Bohemian Crapsody

Eat Your Hamburger Next to Me

2010-08-19T18:24:00.000-07:00

I want you to eat your hamburger right next to me as I sit here on the airplane. I want to smell it. I want to smell the ketchups and the mustards and the sweet relish.

On an unrelated note- I think I might be developing scoliosis as a result of this Eastern European torture chair that gently cradles my spine in the delightfully painful shape of the capital letter "C". If you don't mind I would also like to ask you one question- are those Sweet Maui Onion chips making you thirsty? I could easily go to the commode and fill your water bottle with urine if you like. Just let me know...

Your friendly neighbor,

Passenger 57

Business Friday

2010-06-25T14:46:00.000-07:00

Business: Follow me on Facebook.
Me: You go f yourself.

Happy Thanksgiving

2009-11-26T21:26:00.000-08:00

"The best thing about Thanksgiving has got to be cleaning up after everyone else has gone home." said Grandpa as he finished loading the dishwasher. "Well shit my pants!" he exclaimed, kneeling down in front of the sink. "We're out of dishwashing detergent. I guess I'll go to the store and get some more."

"What did you say dear?" asked Grandma.

"Nothing. I'm running up to the market. I'll be back in a jiffy."

"Ok. Did you finish the dishes?"

"I'll finish YOUR dishes..." he mumbled, walking out the door and fumbling while he shoved his arms through the sleeves of his heavy flannel barn shirt.

"What?"

"NOTHING!" he shouted. He walked out the the detached garage jiggling his unusually large key ring in his right hand. Grandpa had always been kind of a packrat, and his key ring served as a pocket-sized monument to his increasing reluctance to throw anything away.

The garage was a good 100 feet from the house, and on unusually dark nights such as this it was impossible to see your way on the unlit path. He'd made the trip a million times, and knew every detail that lay in the dark. He carefully stepped over the old rusted red wagon left in front of the garage door, reached into the doorway and flipped on the light. Nothing happened.

"Just my luck. What's next? My dick going to fall off?"

He flipped the lightswitch back to the off position and stepped into the garage. Just then he heard the sound of a pot hitting the concrete floor. "Must be the cat." he said aloud. There was a rustling sound. This time it came from the opposite side of the garage.

"Ain't no way that was the cat." he thought. "Anybody there?" He paused, waiting for a response. Nothing. He quickly made his way to the Chrysler and opened the driver's side door. Just then a shadowy figure lept from the dark corner in front of the car and tackled Grandpa to the floor. In the low light from the open car door, he saw a dreamy teenage vampire wearing a fashionable pea coat sitting on his chest, pinning him down. Grandpa tried to struggle, but soon realized it was useless.

"At least I don't have to finish the dishes." said Grandpa, as the charismatic young vampire flashed his fangs and leaned in for the kill.

"Gobble, gobble." said the vampire.

Marker

2009-11-24T17:01:00.000-08:00

Do me a favor- if you see this guy, please beat the living shit out of him. Don't kill him, just beat him within an inch of his life. Also, if you could do it in front of a lot of people, that would be great.

Coincidence?

2009-11-09T14:48:00.000-08:00

Steven Tyler + Joe Perry

equals

Tyler Perry

Coincidence? Or is God speaking to me?

Like a Movie

2009-10-29T11:53:00.000-07:00

Why can't my life be fun and exciting... like a movie?

Tough Beef

2009-10-07T17:23:00.001-07:00

After I dropped Andy off at school I drove down the side street towards the main highway. I had never been this way before, so I was paying more attention than usual. I noticed an unusual amount of manufactured homes that butted up against the narrow road. There was barely enough room for two cars, and there certainly wasn't a lane divider. Should another car come barreling towards me I would have to quickly veer off into the high grass that occupied the shoulder.

As I approached the highway I noticed a large group of cars parked off to the right. A few seconds later I could see a large, run down building sitting on a vast parking lot which was partially paved, and partially dirt, but completely dilapidated. The building was white stucco with dark brown wooden trim and featured a red tile roof. The roof line had been purposefully designed to look like some unholy American version of a Chinese temple. "This must be a Chinese restaurant" I thought to myself. I looked at the sign, which was posted on the East wall, as well as on a large post out front. It read "Tough Beef" in exotic, Asian sign calligraphy. I could see a neon sign in the window that flashed "Open" in red.

I was hungry, but not in the mood for Chinese food. For some reason I was compelled to pull into the parking lot, and park near a chain link fence that separated the restaurant's parking area from the storage facility located next door. There were so many cars in the parking lot I just had to go in and see what was going on. "This place must have been here since the early 70's" I thought to myself. Seeing that it had obviously not been updated, I guessed I would be in for a trip down memory lane. I walked in the dual oval doors and was greeted by a small Mexican lady with a toothy grin. "Bienvenidos!" she said as she rounded the corner, approaching me. It was almost as if she was expecting me.

"This is no Chinese restaurant!" I said to myself. "This is a Mexican place." I was ecstatic. The hostess sat me in a booth with a painting of the Virgin Mary hanging watchfully above. The wall was avocado green and the bench was sparkly red vinyl. Like most booths, the bench seat felt low, and when I put my hands on the table I felt like a muppet anchorman reading the news. I ordered chicken nachos, and they were the greatest nachos I had ever tasted. With each bite I noticed that every ingredient was represented in a consistently perfect ratio. And the consistency- the consistency was heavenly.

I listened in on the conversation between two ladies sitting at a table near my booth. "They catered my daughter's wedding." said the woman with her back to me. "It was good, but I don't think I would ever choose Mexican food for a wedding. It's just not very classy." She took a sip of beer. Her friend was nodding her head in agreement as she sipped on her Margarita. For a moment I felt sorry for the woman's daughter, as I imagined her mother's complaints during the wedding weren't limited to the food.

After my meal I asked the hostess about the restaurant. She informed me that she and her husband moved here from New Mexico in 1986 and bought the restaurant.

Summer With Grandma

2009-09-06T22:53:00.000-07:00

"I'm baaaack" he screamed as he ran into the house, slamming the screen door behind him.

"Oh dear" his grandmother said. "How did you manage to get off the bus?"

"I bribed the bus driver with the $40 you gave me" he said proudly. "I told you I don't want to go to Summer Camp."

"You're a real Houdini" she sighed. "I guess its just you and me for the next 6 weeks."

"Great. I'm going over to Dave's house."

"I don't think so. You owe me $40. You're doing chores until you pay off your debt."

And so began his Summer of hard labor.

My Date With a Vampire

2009-08-30T19:39:00.000-07:00

It's embarrassing to admit, but I have terrible luck with relationships. I mean, I've turned more women gay than softball. But lets be honest, finding love in today's romantic landscape is challenging. That's why I lowered my standards and signed up for Match.com. After sifting through the vast wasteland of cat ladies and shemales, I finally found Ms. Right. Her name was Samantha, and she was a vampire.

I saw her profile last week and I made first contact by sending a quick message that read "You're hot. I am employed and I speak English. Want to go on a date?" The next day I had an email in my inbox that said "You have a new message...". I frantically opened my web browser and navigated to the dating site to see who had responded to one of my many "feeler" messages. Samantha's reply came with just one word- "sure". Of course I had to follow up to get her phone number and address, but I won't bore you with those details.

She wanted to meet me at midnight out in the woods underneath the weeping willow tree on the night of the first full moon. "How romantic!" I thought.

The night of the big date I made sure to follow my standard pre-date ritual, which consists of making a trip to the ATM, changing into clean underwear, saying 100 Hail Mary's, drinking a Scope-tequila cocktail, and sticking an icepack down my pants for a good half-hour.

I drove out to the woods and arrived at the weeping willow tree 15 minutes early. I sat and waited nearly 2 hours before realizing I'd been stood up. With a deflated ego I walked back to my car and drove home, where I watched Twilight twice before falling asleep.

Once, Twice, Three Times a Bridesmaid

2009-08-22T12:18:00.001-07:00

I've been to plenty of weddings over the years, many of which shotgun. Most of them are indistinguishable, as they all seem to follow the same general pattern. "Do you take this man, sickness and health, love and cherish, until death or financial trouble..." "Do you take this woman, sickness and health again, honor and obey, until something better walks along..."

The ceremony usually lasts a little too long and during the 30 minutes or so in which I can't talk or distract myself I am stuck in a folding chair examining my darkest inner-most thoughts. I look around and catch a tearful look on the bride's mom's face and I start to well up. But then I see the groom's nephew playing with his iPhone and my thoughts turn violent as I reach down and grab a nice, round river rock. I check out the bridesmaids and wonder why they avoid my efforts to establish intense eye contact. "The sun must be in their eyes" I think to myself.

After the ceremony I grab a plate of food and smuggle it out to the parking lot and eat in my car, so as to avoid eating with strangers and the awkward conversation that follows. I then take a few hits off the flask, dump some altoids in my mouth, and walk confidently back into the reception area, where I am met with an air of celebration, and people desperately trying to find segues for leaving.

I dance with a drink in my hand because I think it looks cool, and I loosen my tie for the same reason. In between slow dances I play the "mother-daughter" game in which I stare at a girl until her mother notices.

After the reception I go home by myself and leaf through the wedding magazines I keep in the bathroom as a single tear rolls down my face.

Is Everyone on Vacation? I'm Lonely

2009-07-26T00:21:00.000-07:00

All this time I had been looking forward to Summer. I thought that the warm weather and the barbecuing would bring me everlasting peace. Instead the Summer brings restlessness and sorrow. Every day spent inside feels wasted, as does each weekend without a special Summer function. Each day that passes reminds me of the finite quality of the season, and in turn directs my thoughts towards my own mortality.

Summer is a time of abandonment. Friends and families pile into the station wagons and leave town. Even TV has packed its swimtrunks and went to the beach without me. All I have to do is wait another month or two and TV will return, bringing football with it. Thanksgiving and Christmas will loom on the horizon, and my life will have purpose again. However, I'm sure that while I'm unwrapping presents or carving a turkey I will be longing for Summer once again.

Circle of life.

Funny, Yet Relevant, Play On Words

2009-07-16T14:40:00.000-07:00

... Fonzi Scheme ...

I'm sure somebody thought of it already. I know, I suck. Go to hell.

Michael Jackson's Doctor Implicated in Death

2009-07-14T16:44:00.000-07:00

Newsflash ---

Dateline July 14th, 2009:

Los Angeles Police have officially ruled the death of Michael Jackson a Homocide. In a statement issued by Deputy Director Chief Commisioner Trevor Villaizquierda, Dr. Conrad Robert Murray, Michael Jackson's personal physician, has been named as chief suspect in the death of the late pop singer. This announcement comes in the wake of a search warrant issued by the 3rd District Court of Appeals in Los Angeles County for Dr. Murray's Silverlake Condominium.

The search turned up $500,000 in cash, a thank-you card signed by LiveNation CEO Michael Rapino (also in custody) and the alleged murder weapon (see file photo below).

Dr. Murray and his attorney have declined to comment.

There is a God

2009-07-05T08:57:00.000-07:00

When I die, and go to heaven, Michael Jackson and E.T. will be there to greet me.

Summertime Comic Series

2009-06-16T08:18:00.000-07:00

Part one -- Cher-iff:

From Here to the Bus Stop

2009-06-08T20:59:00.000-07:00

It was 7:06 AM and it was still dark outside; not pitch black, but dark enough that you would turn your headlights on in your car. The rain poured down steadily without pausing to let him pass through as one might expect as a friendly gesture from a polite English gentleman. The rain was certainly no gentleman, no sir. Instead, the rain was a dear friend who at times would let you down by telling other people embarrassing things that he'd sworn he'd never reveal.

He walked down the dirt road behind his apartment complex somewhat slumped over, as if to say to anyone who might be watching "I give up, you won, now what?" He wondered why this dirt road existed in the middle of a major metropolitan city. The fact that it was smack in the middle of his immediate living surroundings was an incredible slap in his already swollen face. The cars that had driven down the dirt road over the years had carved large potholes which would fill with water when it rained, creating wet landmines that sat and waited for him to walk through without paying attention; which he often did.

He had an umbrella, but he rarely remembered to bring it with him. And when he did remember, he would usually leave it at work and be without it the next morning. He reached over his right shoulder with his left hand and grabbed the shoulder strap of his backpack to bring it down so that he could fish around inside the rear compartment, where he left loose change lying about. He felt around blindly for what he could tell were coins and removed a filthy handful, his fingers stained by the remnants of graphite from the various mechanical pencils who'd lived and died in the backpack. He picked out $1.65 and dumped the remainder back into the pouch. He noted that they were mostly pennies, which bothered him more than he cared to admit.

He made his way across the street after enduring the painful wait for the pedestrian green light. He wasn't in a hurry because he knew he still had a few minutes before his regular bus would arrive. He knew this because he woke a few minutes before his alarm went off. As he approached the bus stop he would try to avoid eye contact with the other passengers in waiting. He didn't want any bus friends, and he felt that the other passengers didn't want any either. He certainly did not want to impose, even if it would make the commute less painful and quite possibly his life a little more endurable.

He would notice certain 'usuals' on his bus. There was the short Asian guy who looked just like Lloyd from the show "Entourage". He knew this because his roommate watched Entourage, and he would join him in an effort to maintain a friendly environment within the two bedroom, two bath "dormroom". There was also the older black guy who looked kind of like Lionel Richie, who always wore tan pleated slacks and a lighter brown leather jacket; a very respectable early 90's outfit. The Lionel Richie lookalike carried an almost matching leather satchel slung over one shoulder which further enforced the image of an early 90's class act.

But most important was the girl who always sat in the aisle near the middle of the bus. She had medium length brown hair and kind of a snooty face. She was the kind of girl you would expect to let you get halfway through your conversation before she mentioned her boyfriend or fiance. She would derive a near sexual pleasure in knowing that she just temporarily crushed your soul. Her usual dress was a pair of tight pants, a peacoat of some sort and generally a pair of flashy boots. Her tight pants showcased a slightly large rear end that initimidated him, and he imagined that she was hiding a bountiful bosom underneath that peacoat. She usually sat next to an older woman and the two would talk non-stop during the 15 minute trip downtown. They were definitely bus friends.

Today he was feeling a bit down. The rain had been carrying on for several days now, and was starting to weigh on his otherwise optimistic spirit. For some reason, when he was 50 feet from the bus stop, he started hearing "Love Shack" inside his head. The sound of Fred Schneider's voice instantly put him in a good mood. He began to smile uncontrollably. Just then the bus pulled up. It was his lucky day. He stood patiently in line, trying desperately to conceal his smile from anyone that might be looking at him. He climbed the bus stairs, dumped his filthy mitt full of change into the change funnell, and started his trek towards the rear of the bus.

Still struggling to hold back his smile, he inconspicuously moved his eyes about the bus interior, searching for the girl. There she was, in her usual spot. He glanced away before she had a chance to look up. He was walking in slow motion down the aisle. Just when he thought it was safe he looked back in her direction. She was looking right at him. He couldn't look away, nor could he hold back his B52 smile. She smiled and continued to stare. His heart was racing. There was no one in the seat next to her. It was his chance. She seemed to guide him to the seat next to her with her eyes. He thought he could smell her perfume from 10 feet away. There were still two passengers walking in front of him. They might take the seat. Only a few more seconds and he would be there. "Just keep going" he thought to himself. "There are empty rows in the rear. Please. For the Love of God!"

The first of the two spotted a bus friend on the opposite side, and made a beeline to the rear to make friendly conversation. The second person was taking his time, but fortunately kept walking. "This is it" he thought. "This is my chance. Don't blow it." He took a big swallow, cleared his throat, glanced over his left shoulder and took a seat next to the girl. Just then he realized he wasn't wearing any pants.

The smell of fear, and other things

2009-06-02T14:29:00.000-07:00

He was running as fast as he could, his legs felt like rubber. He knew they were chasing him, but he couldn't summon the nerve to look behind out of fear that the simple act of turning his head would slow his pace. The path that lay before him was a dirt road running between two vast cornfields. The corn stalks were 7 feet tall if they were an inch. It was dark outside, but somehow the path was lit from behind by car headlights. This was especially odd since his pursuers were on foot. Each step he took stirred up a small cloud of dust that was visible in the phantom headlights. He couldn't afford to take the time to question his surroundings. He only had time to run.

His pursuers had only one thing on their mind- hunger. They were acting out of instinct. They were carnivores, and craved fresh meat. He was the closest thing out there in the desolate acreage of farmland. His mind raced along with his body. His hopes of escaping were waning since there seemed to be no end to the cornfields. He thought of taking a sharp right, into the corn stalks, and trying to hide, but they would undoubtedly hear his every move; not to mention running through the stalks would slow him down. He considered that if he were to veer into the cornfield, he would clear a path for them, and they could continue less hindered than he, closing in that much quicker.

"Thump". His foot hit a rock. His body flew with the momentum he'd built. He dove head first in slow motion into the dirt. "It's over" he thought. He summoned the strength to claw his way from down on all fours back into an upright running position. But it was too late. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. His body gave out and he tumbled to the ground. They got him.

In what he thought would be his last act, he tilted his head up and looked at his would-be killers. As they stood over him all he could see were their silhouettes against the mysterious headlights that followed behind them. He opened his mouth to scream but only to let out a tubercular cough. He heard some laughter...and smelled mustard.

Just then he woke violently. "It was only a dream..."

Happy Birthday?

2009-05-28T09:08:00.000-07:00

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" they all yelled, as Dana walked into her apartment. All her friends had gotten together and planned a surprise birthday party for her. Dana was pleased, except she secretly wished that they had chosen a different place in which to celebrate.

"I would have at least lured my friend to a restaurant or a bar or someone else's house if I were to plan a surprise birthday party" she thought to herself. "My apartment is so boring."

Dana's roommate, Clarice, was in charge of organizing the party, which included calling all of Dana's friends and her two sisters that lived in the city. She even invited two of Dana's ex-boyfriends, with whom Dana was still friendly. Dana was currently single, but she had been on a few dates over the last few months.

As she mingled through her group of friends and well-wishers, Dana noticed someone out of the corner of her eye whom she didn't recognize. He was short, pudgy, with brown hair and large square framed glasses. He had big rosy cheeks and an impish grin. He wore gray corduroy slacks and a red polo shirt with yellow stripes that was obviously too small, showing off his buddha belly. He was over in the corner by the book shelves, rifling through Dana's CD collection. Suddenly Dana's attention turned to the kitchen, as her best friend from childhood, Debby, whom she hadn't seen for YEARS popped out and Screamed "HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHICKEN DUMPLINGS" at the top of her lungs. "Chicken Dumplings" was the nickname given to Dana by Debby's mother when Dana and Debby were kids. Dana had been a chubby girl growing up until the summer after her sophmore year in High School.

The night went on and Dana had a wonderful time. She caught up with everyone and most people stayed until the wee hours of the night. At first she was worried since the party consisted of a calico of friends from different points in her life, that no one would have a good time and people would leave early accompanied by lame excuses. Fortunately this was NOT the case.

Finally the last two guests walked out the door; Jan and Keith. Jan and Dana both worked at the bank together and had become great friends when they realized that they lived a block away from each other. Jan's boyfriend, Keith, worked as an auditor for an accounting firm. Dana had always thought he was too interesting to be in his line of work.

As Dana shut the door, she realized that she was all alone in the apartment. Her roommate, Clarice, had left 15 minutes previous to drive some other guests home. They had a little too much to drink and she offered to give them a ride. Just then Dana remembered the odd-looking character she witnessed rummaging through her CD collection at the onset of the party. As she turned to walk towards the kitchen she looked up and there he was, impish grin and rosy cheeks.

"Hi Chicken Dumplings" he giggled in an eerie child's voice.

Dana shrieked in terror.

Hot Fun in the Summertime

2009-05-21T15:54:00.000-07:00

I ring in the Summer time with Orange soda. It's what I do. These days its diet Orange Soda, and I'm a little slower and hairier than I used to be (see picture below)
but the feeling is generally the same as its always been. The smell of pool toys fills my nose as I walk down the aisle looking for summertime deals in my local superstore. Normally my default footwear has been the "thong". At least "thong" is what I grew up saying. It has since come to my attention that no one calls them "thongs" anymore, and that they are now referred to as "flip-flops", an onomatopoeic term that I find ugly and crude. Be that as it may, this Summer finds me wearing a slip-on summertime Croc (pictured below):Let us rejoice and be glad.

Sexual Identity Theft

2009-04-22T10:06:00.000-07:00

Week 1

Michelle: Uh. Have I told you how awesome you are? I mean it.

Kevin: I appreciate the fact that you think I'm awesome, I really do. I'm beginning to lose faith. Sometimes I wish I had Male-pattern-baldness... Are you watching Monday Night Football tonight?

Michelle: Uh, no. I hate football. Why?

Kevin: How can you hate football?

Michelle: I hate football for many reasons, but the top 3 are as follows: (1) Its dumb (2) Texas is way to obsessed with it (3) I don't like it.

Kevin: The reason I asked is that I was going to get you a Christmas present with an NFL theme, but now I guess I'll have to think of something else. I always employ "feeler" questions before I make any major decisions...

Michelle: Great way to approach things. I can appreciate that. I would rather just get "felt up". Are you inviting me over to watch it?

Kevin: No. I'll agree with you that sexual horseplay is better than Monday Night Football. However, football is rad, despite the fact that Texas is obsessed with it. And yes, you caught me, I was actually toying with the notion of inviting you over to watch the game. ...Packers vs. Rams... two teams with sexually suggestive names. It will be glorious!

Michelle: I’ll pass.

Kevin: Very well. Enjoy your hot bath and romance novel.

Michelle: Yes, I will take a hot bath and there will be a romance novel involved, but not reading; rather, reenacting- on live web cam. Oh, too bad your eyes will be focused on huge, ugly men in tights.

Kevin: My eyes will be focusing on naked ladies as I stuff money into their panties... would you rather join me there?

Michelle: Will there be sex in the champagne room? If so, yes.

Kevin: Sorry, I can't afford the champagne room.

Michelle: No champagne room, no boomshakalaka.

Kevin: Then I guess the only boomshakalaka you'll be getting is from your mochalakachakatata… lady marmalade.

Week 2

Kevin: What do you usually wear to work?

Michelle: Skirts. Pants. Button down shirts. Sweaters. Cardigans. Dress suits. Pant suits. Oh, and the shoes. The shoes are wonderful.

Kevin: I'd like to see you in your finest pant-suit... But first I would like to just see you... naked.

Michelle: You move fast.

Kevin: That's because the authorities are after me. Do you have roommates?

Michelle: Yes, I have three roommates. One is moving out in a week. She just finished her Masters. Now we have a room available for you. How perfect.

Kevin: What did she get her Masters in? Massage Therapy?

Michelle: No, she failed out of that program. Art History.

Kevin: Would you say that you're the Queen Bee of your household?

Michelle: Nope, not the queen. I would say it’s the owner of the house. She’s a power trip attorney.

Kevin: Does she wear short skirts like in Ally McBeal? I imagine living together you often see each other naked... How do you all handle those situations?

Michelle: We don't live in dorms. I have not seen any of my roommates naked.

Kevin: Hmmm... I appreciate the honesty, but I kind of expected you to go along with the whole thing. You must be under a lot of stress right now.

Week 3

Michelle: Uh... do you ever get turned on at work?

Kevin: All the time.

Michelle: What do you do about it?

Kevin: I take reverse Viagra.

Michelle: What is that...like a fat chick in a pink prom dress with pie on her face?

Kevin: Yes… in pill form.

Week 4

Michelle: What was the most romantic moment you've ever had?

Kevin: The most romantic moment I ever had? hmmm... Romantic? Jeez... That implies that I had feelings for someone that went beyond pure sexual lust. I'm going to have to get back to you on that one...

Michelle: Where was Happy Hour?

Kevin: Jakes on McKinney.

Michelle: How was Jakes on McKinney? I couldn't come.

Kevin: Oh really? I thought you were there. I must have mistaken the Golden Tee video game console for you. Jakes was fine. They had $3 you-call-its. They make a HORRIBLE gin & tonic. However, they make a great top shelf margarita. What was your most romantic moment?

Michelle: Um, not most romantic, but a romantic moment was during Henley on Thames when my ex, ex, ex blew me a kiss from the podium after they won gold.

Kevin: Wow, I'm impressed. I met Bea Arthur once.

Michelle: Not THE Bea Arthur? Is she as hot in real life?

Kevin: Yes.

Week 5

Michelle: I hope I never reach the top of the corporate ladder so these emails can never haunt me.

Kevin: I don't think you ever will, unless you sleep your way to the top. And if that's your angle, then you're wasting your time on me. I'm in no position to further your career. All I can do is get your rocks off... (sort-of). What are you doing?

Michelle: About to go to lunch. Sake time! What did you do this weekend? I was downtown, but didn't see you.

Kevin: I was volunteering at the homeless shelter. I figured our paths would cross there. I was hoping we could catch up while you took a shower and ate a hot meal.

Michelle: I’ve switched shelters. I thought I told you that.

Week 6

Kevin: I wonder what, exactly, you're getting out of our relationship... I imagine you recently saw some movie where there was an edgy female character of some sort and you wanted to see if you could be similar, but you were too scared to try it out at work so you cultured it into an alter-ego with me.

Michelle: I am so deeply offended. I get lots out of our relationship. I've learned what not to wear, how to make a mean squash casserole, better kissing techniques, and most importantly, patience- a virtue which allows us to get along with almost anyone. I did go through a Jeannine Garofalo attitude phase, but it didn’t last. Thanks.

Final Week

Kevin: So anyway... I've been listening to the Beach Boys Christmas Album. It's really good.

Michelle: How good? Sex in the rain good? Or the satisfaction of picking your nose after refraining from wanting to do so for the longest time cause you thought it was uncouth to do in public but then when you got in your car, just dug right in good?

Kevin: Are you watching Monday Night Football Tonight?

Michelle: You're asking ME if I'm watching football??? May the curse of Mary Malone and her nine blind illegitimate children chase you so far over the hills of damnation that the Lord himself can't find you with a telescope.

Kevin: Good Lord, Touchy, Touchy... I was just kidding Jeez. You slipped back into that Jeanene Garafolo attitude again... I was going to invite you over. Want to join me?

Michelle: Not for football. Thanks.

My Brain's Turned to Mush

2009-04-21T11:47:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time a baby boy was born with a slight defect to his vision. This rare and unique condition is now known as "Miscreantopia". The condition results from a slightly twisted optic nerve and an enlarged Hylaloid Canal. The condition is impossible to detect at birth, and for the most part stays dormant for the first 12-14 years. The symptoms of the condition generally begin at the onset of puberty.

I know what you're thinking- "What are the symptoms? Does he need glasses? Is he colorblind? Can he see into the future?" No, no, and no. His condition gives him the ability to see through womens' clothing.

At first this was a novelty, but as time passed it became a burden. He eventually went blind from excessive nudity.

My comments to ESPN about their site redesign

2009-03-26T13:03:00.000-07:00

The re-design is poor. It seems like you've significantly added to advertising content. The desired content is becoming lost in a sea of useless information and horrible advertising. ESPN has been turning into a mindless media sinkhole that cares only about short term profits. Shame on you all.

Honk

2009-02-16T18:06:00.000-08:00

My favorite t-shirt is permanently tainted with the smell of sunscreen. It reminds me of fun times at the beach.

Weak coffee and memories of love lost

2009-01-28T07:23:00.000-08:00

As I sip my weak coffee I am filled with memories of love lost. I am also reminded that I need to stop at the pharmacy tonight to get some shaving supplies. But now my mind slips back into the state of intense fear of being watched. Paranoid? Of course.

I think as I grow older I engage in less and less eye contact with strangers as I mill about on a daily basis. To make matters worse I grow more and more aware of what I am doing, which increases my level of paranoia and overall anxiety. Are there pills for this?

Boy, have I veered off topic. I apologize.

Bargain Hunting, and other crap

2009-01-27T11:17:00.000-08:00

In this new age of economic distress I have decided to cut costs. First thing to go is my nightly bath. I figure that each night I waste $35 in water and energy costs. Next on my list is to cut down on the exotic food I normally eat. I am going to devise a new "recession" diet that consists entirely of baklava from gift baskets left over from various holidays. These can be purchased at a discount from any gift basket supplier.

Shifting gears I would like to discuss my recent experience in a taxi cab. I arrived in Chicago at 7:45 PM and hastily made my way to the airport restroom and then to the ground transportation area (in that order). I asked the cabdriver if he took credit cards and in a confident foreign tone he assured me that he did indeed. I cheerfully leaped into his cab and bounced my bottom on the seat cushion a few times before finally settling down for the long drive to downtown Chicago. I smiled at everyone I saw out the window as we sped away from the airport. I was happy to be alive.

After an eternity we arrived at my hotel. My bladder had already re-filled and I was anxious to empty it. I was also anxious to order room service and raid the mini-bar. The cab-driver took my credit card and whipped out his credit card processing kit (carbon copy receipt and a slider mechanism). After he made a carbon copy of the receipt I filled in the tip and signed and all that good stuff. He then told me "just a second sir, I have to call and get clearance on the card."

He slowly dialed up his dispatch agent and asked her to run the card and check its validity. He had her on speakerphone so I was able to hear the entire conversation. "...Please run the numbers."

"OK confirmation code 9...3...7...2...0"

"Wait repeat that please?"

"9...3......7.....2.......0"

"I can't hear you!" He screamed, noticeably annoyed.

"I already told you the numbers, quit yellin' at me"

"Why are you always so mean to me Goddamnit?!!"

"You know what? I'm not gonna give you the numbers." Click.

"Wait- I'm sorry. Just give my the numbers please!!! ........ Hello? HELLO??!!!"

Just then he set down the phone and slunk down into a seated fetal position. His spirit had been crushed." After a few moments of silence he handed me my card and my receipt and said in an almost heart-breaking voice, "have a good night sir."

"Thanks." I said and I jumped out of the cab with slightly lesser glee than I started with. Later that night I pigged out on room service and ordered an adult movie.

Quizmasters

2009-01-14T22:05:00.000-08:00

Behold the new coven of secrecy and wit. We, the quizmasters scour the Earth for knowledge and truth and paltry prize money. We hold the secrets of the universe deep within our hearts and we test each other for merit on a daily basis.

To become a quizmaster write to:

quizmasters
P.O. Box 332
Mesa, Arizona 83321-1348

For a mere $5 entry fee you will learn our secret handshake, learn our sacred oath, and receive a vhs tape of rodeo bloopers. If your letter is received within 30 days you will be entered in a drawing to win cruise tickets.

Join us or else.

Lightning Rod

2009-01-08T08:13:00.000-08:00

The other day I rode the bus to work like I usually do. With my current routine, my path crosses that of a crippled Asian college student who rides the same bus. I think his legs are missing or something. This kid is probably 20 years old or so- and has a funny mop haircut and a slightly neglected upper lip mustache (is that redundant?)

Given this kid's handicapped nature, he always gets on the bus first because he has to situate his wheelchair in the front where the row of seats lifts up to accommodate wheelchairs and the like. Also necessary is the ordeal of lowering the wheelchair lift to get him on the bus, which seems to take an eternity. The ordeal is repeated, of course, when he gets off the bus- not too far before my stop downtown.

I generally respond negatively to any disruption of my schedule, so you can imagine how my mood changes when I get to the bus stop and I see this kid waiting for the bus with a smug look on his face.

This week marked a new twist to my rivalry with the handicapped kid. After the wheelchair lift gently lowered the kid to the street and began to raise back up into the bus, it got stuck. Five minutes passed as the bus driver repeatedly raised and lowered the lift to try and unstick it and get us on our way. It wasn't until a passer-by helped secure the lift by pushing on it as the driver raised it that we were able to get going. I thought to myself... "a minor inconvenience, surely this is a one-time thing..."

Yesterday I drove to work, bypassing this process, and keeping my sanity. Today, however, there I was again, riding the bus with my handicapped nemesis. As soon as he was lowered off the bus I heard the grinding of the lift mechanism. "Here we go again..." I thought to myself. And during the 5 minutes that followed I decided that I was a lightning rod for inconvenience.

Always and forever...

How I Spent My Snow Day

2008-12-16T18:44:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a snow day, and as we all know, snow days are filled with magic, wonder and adventure. My snow day had all of that, and more.

I began by walking through the frozen tundra to the nearest Starbucks to get myself a coffee. On the way back I stopped at McDonalds and picked up a few sausage mcmuffins with which to stuff my fat face. The McDonalds employees seemed extra chipper as they spit in my food. They were obviously filled with the holiday spirit.

I spent the next 18 hours with my tongue stuck to a flag pole.

The End

Role Playing

2008-11-13T13:33:00.001-08:00

The young couple was having problems in the bedroom and turned to a well-known therapist for help.

"...I suggest that you be frank with each other when it comes to love-making..." Said the therapist in between sips of tea.

They took her comments as a recommendation of Role Playing.

Happy Halloween

2008-10-31T08:34:00.000-07:00

Halloween isn't as fun as an adult as it was when I was a kid. I don't really eat candy anymore, and Horror Movies have lost their appeal as nothing scares me since I lost the will to live. I could go to a Halloween party (assuming I was lucky enough to be invited to one) and enjoy seeing women I know dressed up like whores. However, the plight of the ugly girl who tries to fit in will certainly kill my erotic buzz, and make me think about my life in new and different ways. I'm just not ready for that level of introspection yet.

Somebody help me.

Yes Indeed

2008-10-13T08:03:00.000-07:00

I'm going to name my next dog "Peeves". That way when anyone asks me if I have any Pet Peeves I can say "Yes indeed."

What is True Love?

2008-10-06T12:36:00.000-07:00

Tara had reached a pivotal moment in her life. She was a year out of college and living in an apartment with her older sister. Her older sister had been engaged for 3 years and was living with her fiance. The whole situation was a little tense between Tara, her sister, and her sister's fiance, but thats another story for another time.

Tara had been spending the last 2 months soul searching and looking for work. "When are you going to get a job and move out?" Asked her sister, jokingly. "Why don't you go back to work at the bank for now?" She realized as she finished talking that what she said was hurtful to Tara.

"I know... I'm looking. I'm actually- I'm thinking about going back to school. Whatever happens, I'm sure I'll be out of your hair soon." Tara said in a defeated voice.

"I didn't mean it like that- you can stay here as long as you want. I'm just trying to help." Said Tara's sister. "Do you want to go shopping later?"

"Maybe." Tara said as she noticed her mood changing. Her sister's reassuring comments and shopping invitation had made her feel better almost instantly. "I have to run some errands right now and stop over at Mom's. You want to meet back here at 4?"

"Sure."

"OK, see you sis."

When Tara thought about the bank job she instantly sank into depression. She could picture herself as an aging bank teller, trying to dress nice, counting cash with wrinkled fingers, and spending her 30 minute lunch breaks window shopping. As her mind painted an ever so bleak picture she told herself that it could be worse.

"I could be fat." She thought.

She remembered that her old roommate in college had entered the teaching program and seemed happy if for nothing else that she was working towards a goal. Tara wanted a goal.

"I want a goal." Tara said aloud in her car, as she was driving to Target. She had been driving in silence with the radio off, reflecting. She felt silly as she heard her own voice break the silent contemplation. She pulled into the Target parking lot, parked and went in.

Tara's life inside Target was very much unlike her life outside of Target. Once she walked through those automatic sliding doors she knew exactly what she wanted and exactly where to get it. She got out in record time forgetting not a single item on her mental shopping list. However, upon returning to her car, indecision set in once again.

She was faced with two choices- School or Bank Job- and she felt an obsessive compulsive need to choose one before she drove away. In a moment of weakness she called her ex-boyfriend, Dalton, to ask for his advice. Before she knew what happened she found herself in Dalton's apartment. Just then she realized what she needed. She needed someone to make her feel pretty.

Kitchen Mishap

2008-10-04T09:07:00.000-07:00

Mission: Separate frozen sausage

Weapon of Choice: Cut Rate Asian Cleaver (no pun intended)

RESULT: Booboo

Don't cry for me.

Special Needs Baby

2008-10-03T15:44:00.001-07:00

I am a special needs baby

I don't feel like blogging right now

2008-10-03T14:47:00.000-07:00

I want to make it clear to everyone out there- I don't feel like blogging right now. There's nothing going on in my life at the moment, and I don't know of anything else going on that would be the least bit interesting to your average internet reader.

So bugger off.

Fast Food modifies business plan

2008-09-14T08:45:00.001-07:00

It seems to me that the geniuses at the American Fast Food Collective have come up with a brilliant new business plan- Practical Jokes.

Carl's Junior has their Fake Restaurant, McDonalds has their Dollar Menu, and Taco Bell has their Taco wrapped in another Taco. I always thought I was too smart to fall for any of these simple parlour tricks, but you know what they say- "Pride cometh before a fall."

The other day Pizza Hut got me real good. They somehow tricked me into trying their new pasta creations. Boy did I feel stupid. I wouldn't be surprised if they were secretly filming me while I disgraced myself for one of their upcoming commercials.

Afterwords I called Pizza Hut and said "Ha ha, good one my friend. What's next, you gonna put my panties in the freezer?"

I like to think that I learn from my mistakes. Lord knows I will think twice before inviting Pizza Hut to my house for a sleepover.

Thanksgiving With Me

2008-09-11T12:39:00.000-07:00

I'm working on a movie called "Thanksgiving With Me". Here's an excerpt from the screenplay:

CAST: Me, You, Brian

It's 10:00AM, and I'm sitting downstairs, watching Lions vs. Titans on TV. Brian wedged himself underneath the coffee table and is sleeping there, periodically licking himself. This annoys me because I cannot stand licking sounds. I tell him to knock it off. I hear footsteps from what sounds like the front porch. The doorbell rings. Brian violently squeezes out from underneath the coffee table and starts barking his head off.

"DING DONG"

ME: Brian! Shhhhh.

I open up the sliding glass door and let Brian outside.

"DING DONG"

I run upstairs and open the door.

ME: Helllloooo! Glad you could make it! You got here just in time to start watching some football.

YOU: Oh good, I love football.

ME: Well you're in luck because we have three games today.

Awkward pause as we both look at each other.

ME: Well come on in, lets get some pre-turkey snacks and go get our football on.

YOU: Sounds awesome.

We go into the kitchen and we unpack the grocery bags you brought.

ME: Chips, salsa, guacamole, good, good. I got a whole mess of diet coke in the fridge, but it's still early, I'm still drinking coffee.

YOU: Oh I had coffee on the way over. I'm good for now. Is the turkey cooking?

ME: You know it. I put it in about 20 minutes ago.

YOU: Great. I brought some pies. We got a nice Pumpkin pie, and a nice Pecan pie.

ME: Those are my favorite. I'm going to gather together a big plate of Chips and Salsa and maybe we fill up a bowl full of the Spicy Chex mix I made and then lets finish up game 1.

YOU: Sounds good. I will do the same.

We go downstairs and settle down in front of the TV. I am sitting in the recliner chair, and you are sitting on the loveseat in front of the coffee table. I get up briefly to let Brian back in. He goes nuts for the first 5 minutes and then settles down and crawls back underneath the coffee table.

Life Coach

2008-09-10T08:05:00.000-07:00

I hired a Life Coach. I knew he was good when his first advice to me was to fire my Life Coach.

Political Afterthought

2008-09-05T08:10:00.000-07:00

I don't plan on voting...ever. However, if someone were to hold a gun to my head and twist my nipple really hard I would go ahead and vote McCain.

You are noticeably upset. "How could you say that!!??" you're thinking. "Do you want four more years of the Bush administration disaster?" you wonder. "Are you retarded?"

Perhaps. Retarded. Retarded and petty. Retarded, petty, and lecherous. I have no dogs in this fight, but I have two reasons for my ever so slight political leaning.

I would like to see the Daily Show crowd gnash their teeth and wallow around in agony. Sometimes I just want to see people cry.
I would like 4 years of Sarah Palin prancing around in business suits and stylish glasses.

You can start hating me now.

Clubbin

2008-09-04T22:06:00.000-07:00

Dancing is forbidden in some societies/cultures. That is perfectly alright with me.

Lightning Crashes

2008-08-28T21:22:00.000-07:00

One Friday night I was sitting at home watching TGIF when all of a sudden the lights went out. I was all alone. It was 9:45, midway through "Baby Talk"- the Television version of "Look Who's Talking" with Tony Danza as the voice of the baby instead of Bruce Willis. I didn't really like this show, which somehow made the power outage more scary.

After 10 seconds of pure, unadulterated panic, I settled down and gathered my wits. I fumbled my way off the sleeper sofa and crept towards the front door. The moon was partially exposed that night, so I felt that being outside I would be able to see and possibly check the neighbor houses. Sure enough, their power was out.

I sat in the middle of the front lawn and waited for the lights to come back on. They never did.

The Human Condition

2008-08-27T09:02:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, I really wanted a Nintendo. I never got it.

Chasing the Jade Dragon

2008-08-26T13:02:00.000-07:00

I chased the dragon last night, the Jade Dragon. The Jade Dragon is a nice old-fashioned Chinese-American restaurant located not more than 2 miles from my nice little home. It's located in an older strip mall, right next to a pet groomer, and a Bank of America.

A kindly, spectacled Chinese man runs the front desk, kind of like an Asian Bob Newhart. The restaurant, which never seems very busy, consists of a modest (yet spacious) dining area, and a dark and seedy lounge hidden behind two velvet-padded swivel doors with nautical circle windows.

I keep a Jade Dragon menu tucked neatly in my kitchen drawer. I never use it, since I have their phone number programmed into my phone, and I always order the same thing. I like having it, though, in the rare event that I want something different, or if I have guests who need to see the menu.

"Hello, Jade Dragon."

"Yeah, hi, I'd like to place an order for pick up."

"OK, go ahead."

"Yeah, I'll take a Chicken Fried Rice, and a Chicken Chop Suey."

"Chicken fried rice..... chicken chop suey.... anything else?"

"Nope, thats it."

"OK, give me 10, 15 minutes."

"Great, thanks!"

Ten to fifteen minutes later I'm driving home. Ten to fifteen minutes after that I'm stuffing my face.

The source of my pain

2008-08-21T10:06:00.000-07:00

Behold, my nemesis. Greg Weber, in his drunken splendor. He would make a good medieval tyrant.

suck

2008-08-20T18:05:00.000-07:00

"...and he knows better. But I just ignored him and he eventually apologized."

BEEP BEEP BB-BB-BEEB .... BEEP BEEP BB-BB-BEEB

"Hold on a sec..." Lisa said, reaching into her handbag. She pulled out a somewhat stylish cell phone and flipped it open. Casey stared at her anxiously, chewing on her right thumb fingernail. "It's Dalton..." pausing for a second, a grin developed on her face. "Awwwww...."

"What is it?" asked Casey. Lisa violently shoved the phone into Casey's face. Dalton had sent a picture of a gift-wrapped box with a festive bow on top, with the words 'I got a surprise for you' underneath. "Oooh! What do you think it is?""I don't know. It could be anything. It could be tickets to Hawaii, diamond earrings, or maybe even a ring!?" squealed Lisa.

"A ring, really?" asked Casey "I thought you had talked about it and decided to wait at least a year."

"No, I doubt its a ring. But you never know with Dalton. Sometimes he can be so romantic." Lisa was downplaying her excitement. This was the first time Dalton had exhibited any shred of romanticism, so naturally she was expecting something big.

Lisa purposefully waited 1 hour before texting Dalton back. She finished her shopping trip with Casey, and freshened up at Casey's apartment before going home to see what Dalton had in store for her. She borrowed some of Casey's clothes and they even went as far as to have a mini fashion show before she left.

The drive home was excruciating and exhilarating. She was in love with the endorphins that were pulsing through her brain. Her mind was racing, but her car was going under the speed limit. She wasn't in a hurry, she was enjoying herself.

She pulled into the parking garage of her apartment complex and slowly walked towards the gate that led to the elevator. In her mind-altered state of euphoria she decided to take the stairs. She never takes the stairs.

She walked in looking sexy and feeling confident. Dalton was sitting on the couch wearing cut-off sweat pants, a long sleeve t-shirt, and a backwards baseball cap. "Hey babe" he said excitedly. "I got a surprise for ya..."

She stood there dumbfounded, still holding her shopping bag and handbag. Dalton got up quickly and ran down the hallway. Moments later he emerged carrying a golden retriever puppy with a little bow tied around its neck.

Lisa broke up with Dalton two weeks later. Dalton gave the puppy to his Sister.

I don't know much

2008-08-17T09:56:00.000-07:00

In 1989, Aaron Neville and Linda Ronstadt met and collaborated on an album. I don't know much.... but I know I loved it.

Ever so gently

2008-08-14T15:20:00.000-07:00

"When is lunch?" he asked.

"As soon as your father gets home."

"Why do we have to wait for dad? I'm starving!" he exclaimed.

"Because it's polite, and respectful."

"Can I have a bagel while I wait, at least?"

"OK, but no cream cheese or anything."

"Alright." he said defeatedly, but satisfied.

It was 3:00 when father finally arrived home, wreaking of booze. "Who stole my keys?" he burst. "They were in my pocket five minutes ago!" As he slurred his words his wife's fake smile turned into a fake concerned frown.

"No one took your keys, dear. I'll go check the car. You probably left them in the ignition again." and she hurried out the door.

"Yeah you do that." he mumbled, as he plopped into his favorite bean bag chair.

"OUCH!" he cried. "Who the fuck put this miniloader on my beanbag?" yelled father with an expectant, 'answer-me-now' look on his face.

'Miniloader' was what his 3 year old son had cutely but mistakenly named his toy forklift.

The End

Ugly Truth

2008-08-12T08:02:00.000-07:00

It appears that America is not the only superficial country in the world. According to my internet news sources the little Chinese girl who was supposed to sing during the opening ceremonies at the Beijing Olympics was not "good looking" enough to present on the world stage, so the Chinese beautification authority brought in a ringer to lip-sync.

Albeit shocking and heart-wrenching, (especially when you Google the whole thing and see pictures of the little girl) this is hardly a new concept. In 1897 a French playwright named Edmond Rostand wrote his most famous work , "Cyrano de Bergerac". The play tells the story of a man who is conventionally ugly, yet possesses skills of wit and brawn beyond compare. Lacking confidence (in both himself and the women he pines for) he enlists the aid of a handsome, young soldier who can barely string a sentence together to take his place in his attempts at woo. Blah blah blah- fighting, poetry, innuendo- great play, and a great story- so much so that it has been re-told in countless movies and television shows, both directly and indirectly. I think there is even a version starring Jeneane Garafolo. To me she is the living embodiment of a female Cyrano. But I digress.

Before we go ahead and chastise the Chinese for another perceived offense against the World, lets take a moment and reflect upon our own sins:

1) Milli Vanilli
2) The chick from C+C Music Factory
3) Ashlee Simpson

Shame on you China, and shame on me. Shame on everyone. Oh, and one more thing- be careful when you Google for pictures of stuff.

Practical Joke Backfires

2008-08-07T10:29:00.000-07:00

Recently my office friend/enemy (frenemy?) Greg Weber has been sabotaging my work area. He started off by leaving threatening post-it notes on my computer monitor. At first they were funny, then they got scary. He soon grew tired of this, and moved on to hiding my personal effects around the office. He hid my spare shoes, he hid my gym shorts, and he also hid my insulin. It got a little too real when I slipped into a diabetic coma and they had to call the paramedics, but we still had a good laugh afterwards. Seeking a fresh start he decided to start tampering with my computer. He unplugged my peripherals and wrote the word "whore" on my monitor with a Permanent Marker.

Today, however, marked a new day of practical joke complexity. I arrived in my cubicle as usual, 7:45AM (I'm an early riser). As I routinely put my frozen bagel in the toaster, hung up my backpack, logged into my computer, and swapped my flip flops for my office shoes I could tell that something was amiss. I knew trouble lay in waiting for me, but I ignored my impulses as I attributed them to hunger. I noticed my chair was not in front of my computer as it usually is, but rather it was facing the left side of my cubicle- over by the stack of Diet Coke cans on my desk. I thought to myself, "that's funny" as I tilted my head and grabbed the back of my chair. Pulling the chair, my surroundings seemed to revolve around me in slow motion when I realized the base of my chair was tied to a Diet Coke can somewhere in the middle of the stack. As my mountain of cans came crashing down into my workspace I felt utterly helpless and vulnerable. "This is what babies feel like when they are born into the world" I reflected.

When the horrific sound of tumbling tin finally ceased, I lifted my ears and heard.... no one. No one was in the office yet. Partially relieved (and severely humbled) I began the long and tedious process of picking up the cans and re-stacking them. I then retrieved my toasted bagel and started checking emails.

Right around 8:24 I heard someone huffing and puffing approaching my cube. I turned around and saw Greg Weber bending over with his hands on his knees, sweating profusely. I could tell he'd been running. I sat there staring at him, saying nothing while he took a few minutes to catch his breath. "How's your morning going?" he said, finally breaking the silence. He was fighting to suppress his smile.

"Fine" I responded. "You're here awfully early."

"I got a bunch of work to do." He crossed his arms and looked around my cubicle. "Hmmm... does your stack of cans look different?"

"I don't know. I can't see any difference. Is there something I can help you with? I'm a very busy man."

After another painfully long silence neither of us could hold back anymore. I fessed up and told him how the cans fell down and he admitted to orchestrating the whole thing. I asked him if he had come in early so he could see the joke unfold and he said yes, but his bus was held up at the river because the bridge had been raised. Normally Greg gets to work around 10. He had to wake up 2 hours early just to try and witness my humiliation. His prank was a success, but his overall plan was a failure.

"So I guess the joke really backfired on you here."

"Yeah I guess it did."

I'm plotting my revenge. Does anyone know where I can get some ether?

Two Wrongs Make a Baby

2008-08-05T08:08:00.000-07:00

Mr. X and Ms. Y met at a dance club called "Crush" one Friday night. Ms. Y was dancing with her friends from work when Mr. X sidled over and commenced his courtship on the dance floor. He swiveled and swerved, to and fro, hither and thither, while beads of sweat cooled him way down beneath his undershirt. He was drinking a bud light, but earlier he had taken shots of Tequila that his friend (and business partner) bought him.

Ms. Y was happy because it was Friday and she only had one week of work left before she was scheduled to go to Mexico for a two week vacation. She was wearing a pair of snug hip-hugging jeans that, even though she bought them on sale, cost so much that she came up short on her rent and her roommate had to float her one month. She complimented her denim showpiece with a bejeweled black tank-top and a decorative scarf worn as a belt. She had started off the night with Lemon Drops and now she was drinking Red Bull without any alcohol, to stay awake and alert.

"Do you want to go outside for a cigarette?" She asked, during the brief music break.

"Yeah, sure" he said, even though he didn't smoke. "Let me grab another drink first. You want anything?"

"Rum and Diet" she yelled. "No, wait!" but it was too late. He didn't hear her as he turned to walk towards the bar, and she decided that she would let him get her the cocktail, even though she had made a conscious effort to stop drinking for the night. She thought it would be lame to ask him to get her another Red Bull.

Out on the patio they smoked their cigarettes. She admitted that she didn't want the drink he had bought her, and he admitted that he'd never smoked before. Their candid conversation soon turned into laughing and touching. They exchanged phone numbers, and then took turns listening to each others' ringtones. Once their conversation hinted at becoming stale, she suggested they go back into the bar to find her friends. This was a white lie on her part, as she had already been informed via text message that they had moved on to another bar.

After some more dancing (this time with her hands connected around his neck and his hands plastered to her behind) the bar commenced its close-down sequence. They decided to split a cab. The plan was to drop her off first, but she invited him in.

"...And that's how babies are made."

"Wow. Thanks dad."

"Anytime son. Anytime."

Food Network sucks now

2008-08-03T14:25:00.000-07:00

The Food Network used to be one of my safe-havens in the entertainment minefield that is cable television. I enjoyed the classic cooking show- those that follow the basic Julia Child and Frugal Gourmet templates. I loved the Japanese Iron Chef. I particularly enjoyed watching them cook with ingredients I'd never heard of before. I would even enjoy an episode of Unwrapped, in which the slightly annoying Marc Summers would tell me how M&Ms are made.

But now Food Network has caved to the collective will of the 'stupid'. Instead of cooking shows we have the search for the next food network personality. Instead of Iron Chef Japanese its Iron Chef America- with the worst Iron Chefs ever. Cat Cora makes me tingle with disgust. And what about all these cake shows? WHAT THE HELL IS SO INTERESTING ABOUT CAKES????? And its not like they are making interesting new cakes, either. They are taking basic shit cake and shaping it into hot-rods, or giant butterflies. This isn't new- I could go to Safeway right now and get a birthday cake that looks like a giant hamburger. This isn't food, its a mockery. Whoever is responsible should be ashamed of themselves. I just want to bury my head in Giada's cleavage so I don't have to watch anymore.

Summer Love

2008-08-01T07:51:00.000-07:00

I have yet to experience Summer Love this year. I am running out of time. If you would like to help me out please give me a shout.

Here is a picture to get you in the mood...

I like ice cream and pillow talk.

Morning Routine

2008-07-31T08:04:00.000-07:00

The Today Show is my barometer for what occupies the hearts and minds of mainstream America. Every morning I wake up at 6:45 and tune the television machine to NBC because I know that as soon as I get out of the shower Ann Curry will be mesmerizing me with her exotic beauty, Meredith Viera will be over-compensating for her lack of news credentials, Matt Lauer will be staring at Meredith's chubby legs, and Al Roker will be mincing about pretending not to be gay. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a creature of habit. I love my routines. I get physically ill when I find David Gregory filling in for Matt Lauer (partly because I can't stand the sight of David Gregory's face and hair). While the news stories are stupid and the interviews are bland, I take comfort simply knowing that I am doing what everyone else is doing. I may not get excited about the political candidacies of whats-his-name and the other guy, and I'm not going to lose my mind over the latest gas price report, but the undeserved hype gives me the strength to pull my pants up and comb my hair.

Out of Punishment Ideas?

2008-07-30T08:01:00.000-07:00

I will spank your butt
I will turn this car around
You can't watch TV for a week
You aren't going to summer camp
I will hide your ipod
You're grounded
You have to do chores for Grandma on Saturday
No more Myspace
No more Facebook
No more Video Games
No more Miley Cyrus
No more Hannah Montana
No more Desserts
No more food
No more water

Family Crap Center

2008-07-29T16:40:00.000-07:00

"Here're your tokens" he grunted, tossing the little ziplock bag full of coins onto the counter. His face wasn't speckled with acne like the others, but his head was still in the awkward stage of maturity so that it didn't quite match up with the rest of his body- like some sort of teenage bobblehead doll. He seemed very unpleasant. I'm 99% sure the source of his discontent was the fact that he had a summer job.

There I was, trying to enjoy my company function, and this little pissant had to go and spoil things for me by having a bad attitude. "Enthusiasm is contagious, you know." I told him, as I picked up my coins.

"What?"

"Nevermind." And I walked away, determined not to let this experience ruin the rest of my day. Feeling masculine I made my way to the batting cages. I figured I would put on a show for my female coworkers. Instead I ended up hurting my hand and sweating more than I had budgeted for. The real winner at the batting cages was the girl who cranked some softballs while wearing high-heeled sandals.

Associated Genders of Products/Animals

2008-07-29T09:19:00.000-07:00

Beer is Masculine, Wine is feminine. Cats are girly, dogs are manly.

Feel free to add more.

hardy har har

2008-07-28T08:50:00.000-07:00

They say that laughter is the best medicine. I tend to agree, which explains why my pediatrician was Dave Coulier. I stayed home from school a lot.

Dark Knight Disappointed

2008-07-26T00:09:00.000-07:00

Jingle Bells, the new Batman smells. Hollywood laid an egg. The Batmobile lost two wheels (turned into a motorcycle), and the Joker actually did get away (then got caught later).

And I'm out ten bucks.

Lunch with Andy - Results Show

2008-07-24T13:00:00.000-07:00

Andy showed up late, as usual. He was wearing capris for men and a rugby shirt circa 1992. At first I was a little miffed by him sitting on the same side of the table as me, but I quickly adjusted to it after realizing that the restaurant only had one menu for us to share.

I ordered a diet coke and Andy only drank water. I have this weird little habit of dipping my finger into my diet soda and rubbing my fingers together to see if its sticky (i.e. regular coke). I have a sneaking suspicion that someone somewhere is trying to make me fat.

Andy had his heart set on nachos. I was on a burrito streak that started in April and didn't feel like breaking it. I ordered a burrito. You can tell a lot about a Mexican food establishment by sampling their salsa. La Fonda met my expectations.

As for my pre-lunch predictions, the following came true:

1) I ate too many chips & salsa, spoiling my appetite

Sorry to disappoint you.

Lunch with Andy

2008-07-24T09:03:00.000-07:00

In about 90 minutes I will be going to La Fonda (mexican) to have lunch with my Utah friend Andy Godsey. I thought it would be funny to make some predictions beforehand and then report back afterwards to confirm (or disconfirm) my premonitions. Let's do this in list form:

1) I will spill something on my nice light colored polo shirt
2) Andy will break down in tears because he doesn't want to get married next September
3) Lindsay (Andy's fiance) will call every 5 minutes to make sure Andy isn't doing drugs
4) I will eat too many chips and salsa and spoil my appetite
5) Andy will look at porn on his iPhone
6) Greg Weber will show up and throw something at me (miggs?)
7) Andy will offer to pay for lunch since he owes me for the jailtime I did for not turning him in
8) Everyone in the restaurant will break out into a song/dance number like in the movies

Stay tuned and find out if any of this comes true...

What Smells?

2008-07-24T08:04:00.000-07:00

Oh, its the Red Bull you're drinking. It smells like stomach acid. You are a disgusting human being.

My Favorite Food

2008-07-22T19:14:00.000-07:00

Ingredients:

Tomato
Onion
Cilantro
Jalepeno Peppers
Lemon
Salt
Pepper
Grilled Chicken
Shredded Monterrey Jack and Cheddar Cheese
Tortilla Chips
Refried Beans

Melt cheese onto the chips. Put the rest of ingredients into a food processor and process into a fine paste. Pour messy paste over the chips and eat with a fork (or your hands). Bon Appetit.

Ad Script

2008-07-22T00:01:00.000-07:00

"How was your blind date?"

"She was interesting."

"She was into wrestling?"

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Did you make future plans?"

"Not exactly. I got up to go to the bathroom and never went back."

"Wow. That bad, huh?"

"Yes, my diarrhea was that bad."

IMODIUM AD- when Nature Calls, let the machine get it.

Extra Poor Sports Night

2008-07-21T12:32:00.000-07:00

Last night I flipped on ESPN briefly and was horrified to see Justin Timberlake doing some sort of dance with a Kevin Garnett puppet. Apparently I was watching the ESPY awards.

I consider myself to be a sports fan, but I guess I draw the line at pathetic, sports-themed, scripted comedy. Call me old fashioned, but I would rather watch a football game than see a dance number honoring Brett Favre.

Maybe the collective marketing genius has determined that all of this pageantry is necessary to appeal to women... but naahhh... women aren't THAT stupid. Could it be a half-hearted effort to maintain viewership during the Summer, in which the only sports related activities are golf, baseball, and professional misconduct (gasp)?

Whatever it is I am disgusted, and I want Stuart Scott to be punished (death?) for my minor TV inconvenience.

I admit it

2008-07-20T20:25:00.000-07:00

I am the Captain Stubbing of the Awkward Love Boat

Father Figure

2008-07-18T10:33:00.000-07:00

I remember my most recent violent experience with discipline... It was a warm, sunny day and I had just finished lunch. I had the Spicy Salmon at 1st Ave Bento. In my haste I had left my foodbox on one of the tables in the lunchroom. Unbeknownst to me I had awakened the wrath of my violent father figure.... Greg Weber.

Long story short, he threw my waste right in my face in my cubicle... splattering soy sauce and tears all over. I still have nightmares.

I will cut your nuts off

2008-07-17T11:30:00.000-07:00

The funniest story ever told

2008-07-16T07:54:00.000-07:00

Guy 1: "I don't know, man... I don't know what it is about me, but I think that gay guys always hit on me at parties"

Guy 2: "What are you talking about?"

Guy 1: "Well, last night this dude comes up and starts asking me about music- specifically if I liked Pearl Jam. It just seemed weird, you know?"

Guy 3: "Wait, how do you know he was gay? Liking music doesn't make you gay."

Guy 1: "I just got a feeling from the whole thing. Besides, I think this has happened other times, at other parties. Do I look gay?"

Guy 3: "uh- nah, too easy. Honestly, I'm not really sure. My gaydar is terrible. I just assume that everyone is gay."

Guy 2: "Who was it? Do you remember his name?"

Guy 1: "No, I don't remember his name... but he was that guy wearing the T Shirt with the picture of the Hamburgular on it."

Guy 2: "Of course he's gay!!!! The Hamburgular steals the meat and hides it in the buns!!"

Guy 1, Guy 2, and Guy 3 all laughed until Guy 3's hernia burst and they had to drive him to the hospital. Guy 2 and Guy 3 later recorded a short but hilarious answering machine song message about this event. Guy 1 still wonders if people think he's gay.

Topics for discussion

2008-07-15T21:47:00.000-07:00

Where do they find the British spare for each of the Judgment-Style Reality shows?

I think Tina Turner, Bette Midler, and Cher are sexy.

Whats more campy, the Batman movies with Val Kilmer and George Clooney, or the original Batman TV show?

I am all that is man

2008-07-14T18:50:00.001-07:00

Mens room

2008-07-14T15:21:00.000-07:00

The salt-and-pepper-haired older gentleman walked into the restroom with his younger, professionally goateed Apprentice.

"Would you like me to make you some lemonade?" Asked the Apprentice. "I make it extra salty..."

"Exsqueeze me?"

"Exactly....Exsqueeze me? EXACTLY"

The sound of running water finally ceased and the handicapped-accessible door mechanically wound itself closed. I slowly stepped off the toilet seat and peaked out the stall door. No one. I safely made my way back to my cubicle.

SICK

2008-07-12T18:54:00.001-07:00

Life Imitates Art

4th of July

2008-07-12T08:17:00.000-07:00

Like most good Americans I spent Independence Day eating and drinking stuff. I took time to reflect on my own independence- i.e. celebrating the fact that I don't need my mom to drive me around anymore.

Feeling unusually patriotic I decided to settle down and watch a movie. By some inexplicable miracle the Gods steered me towards the new Rambo movie. Now, I won't say it was the best movie I've ever seen, but I won't say it wasn't the best movie I've ever seen.

Too Cool for Mule

2008-07-12T07:52:00.000-07:00

This girl is going to s*** a brick when her friends tell her its a donkey, not a pony. Happy Birthday!

Movie Ideas

2008-07-11T13:24:00.000-07:00

DOUBLE STANDARD: It's a crime drama comedy. A craahmedy. Ricki and Jake Standard are tough-talking law-enforcing brothers who re-unite after their father's death to bring his murderer to justice. Did I mention that they are huge hypocrites?

FRIENDS- THE MOVIE: Joey, Chandler, Ross, Rachel, Monica and Phoebe are all back together, only this time its on the big screen. Phoebe is having a destination wedding in Malaysia and everyone is making the trip to witness her nuptials. Drama ensues as Monica and Rachel quarrel over who gets to be Maid of Honor. Ross struggles to make it to the wedding after being mistakenly arrested for vandalism, and the airlines lose Chandler's luggage. Will Phoebe say "I do"? Will Ross make it in time for the wedding? How many local Malaysian girls will Joey score with? (I guarantee this movie would make a billion dollars on its opening weekend)

BABY MAMA: A successful business woman is running out of time and out of luck when it comes to marriage and family. She seeks out a young, wacky pregnant girl who wants to give up her baby for adop... Oh crap, its already been made.

I ruined his joke...

2008-07-10T08:13:00.000-07:00

My favorite work friend approached me in his usually creepy way yesterday and with a doodoo-eating grin on his face and one hand down his pants he tried to tell me a joke.

"What's the leading cause of pedophilia?" He asked.

"Well, I personally believe that most pedophiles were abused as children and the psychology of someone who is abused is such that they are compelled to continue the cycle of violence and abuse towards others. Somehow this alleviates the horror of their own experiences that they deal with on a day-to-day basis."

His grin turned into a look of confusion. "Well, actually the leading cause of pedophilia is Sexy Children."

"Interestingly enough, that is a valid point." I responded. "There seems to have been a recent trend over the years to sexualize our nations children. If you take a look at a typical children's show these days you'll see thirteen and fourteen year old girls dressing like professional sex workers. Kids watch these shows and then young girls feel compelled to try and look sexy when that should be the farthest thing from their mind...at least until they reach high school."

"You ruined my joke!" He said, and stormed off in tears.

Party in my pants

2008-07-09T12:57:00.000-07:00

"How old do you think I am" she asked.

"I would venture to guess 25..."

"Aww how sweet"

"I aimed low. I always aim low."

"Well at least you aim"

"I aim to please"

"Well, so far you've missed"

"Ohh snap"

I want to punch you

2008-07-08T09:10:00.000-07:00

I want to punch you right in the face. Punch your lights out.

Proud to be a Wiccan

2008-06-26T09:00:00.000-07:00

I will use this blog post to invent some new appetizer dishes for Chilis, Applebees, TGI Fridays or Bennigan's- whoever wants to pay me. Here goes nuthin'.

1) Sexy Spanish Ravioli: Ravioli filled with Spanish Rice and coated with panco bread crumbs and fried in olive oil. Sexy!

2) BLT Spring Rolls: Bacon, Lettuce, Tomato and Mayonaisse wrapped up in rice paper and garnished with mint leaves and daikon sprouts. It's an American twist on an Asian Classic!

3) Buffalo Chicken Philly Cheesesteak: A Hoagie Roll filled to the brim with Buffalo Chicken wings, topped with loads of melted American and Provolone cheese, and served with a stick of celery and bleu cheese dressing. It's a Working Class culture Clash!

Thats all for now. Tune in next week for a receipe for Eggseroneous. Happy Cooking!

Just out of reach

2008-04-17T14:51:00.000-07:00

No one ever gets what they want. But everyone wants what they can't have. The secret to life is just making do with what you've got until you die.

Take off that petticoat and dance for me...

2008-04-11T10:37:00.000-07:00

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

1) Your dry, leathery skin.
2) Your frozen botox smile.
3) The large gap between your giant, fake breasts.
4) The cute way you trip in your high heels when you're drunk.
5) The way you swear in public.
6) Your cigarette-flavored kisses.

We are leopard-skin-printed soulmates

apathy

2008-03-27T19:27:00.000-07:00

Gas prices are high, the housing market is failing, death toll rises in the Middle East... blah blah blah. I wonder what's for dinner tonight. Did I remember to pay off my credit card this month? Who's going to give me a ride to the airport next week? Will I ever find true love? Where will I be working in 5 years? Do I have a small wiener? Does my boss secretly hate me? Do I need a haircut? I should probably make a Dentist Appointment. I'm going to lose some weight this Summer. ... KABOOM!

I'm no good at...

2008-03-10T14:24:00.000-07:00

1) Making prolonged eye contact
2) Talking on the phone for more than 10 minutes
3) Making someone feel better in the wake of tragedy
4) Telling stories
5) Staying awake past 10:00PM while watching TV or Movies
6) Controlling level of sarcasm
7) Holding a conversation amidst loud music
8) Leaving a party without feeling awkward
9) Playing guitar and singing

An Open Letter to the Man Who Insists upon Touching my Leg on the Bus

2008-02-22T10:20:00.000-08:00

Dear Man who insists upon touching my leg on the bus,

I realize that the bus is crowded, and that you are forced to stand. I've been there, and its uncomfortable. However, do you not realize that I am sitting next to an obese gentleman and cannot help but stick my leg out into the aisle more than usual? I know there is room enough for you to move up just a tad, and not rub my leg every time the bus jolts forward. All I am asking is for you to respect my personal space.

Are you oblivious to the fact that you're touching my leg? Perhaps you think you're banging into a seat, or some other inanimate part of the bus. It's possible (but not likely) that you have a wooden leg, and therefore unable to sense contact.

You are desperately clinging to the pole in front of my seat, despite the fact that there is room in the back, and as more and more people get on the bus they have to violently squeeze by you in order to make room for more. Yet there you are, defending your territory like a pitbull or some other sort of territorial animal that should be put to sleep.

You look like the stereotypical child molester- with your average, pudgy, caucasian face, your supercuts hair, bomber jacket, and your glasses. That Indiglo Timex watch must come in handy when you're waiting in the shadows down by the schoolyard. I'm wondering why you aren't driving your windowless van to work today. It must be at the shop. I hate you and eveything you stand for.

I think you might be enjoying this. Its the only explanation I can think of. You got on the bus, saw me, and made a bee line for the pole in front of my seat so you can rub legs with me for 20 minutes. You make me sick.

How bad do you want it?

2007-12-05T09:18:00.000-08:00

I watched the Today show last week for the first time in 7 years and I realized that presidential elections are only 10 months away. We're knee deep in primaries and the race is really getting hot. I decided to gear up by watching some debates. I found most of it interesting, despite the fact that I barely understand English. I decided to post some excerpts that I found particularly interesting.

CNN: Governor Romney, can you explain to us what your Mormon faith means to you?
Gov. Romney: It means that I can't watch R-rated movies and I can't drink coffee.
CNN: Do you find those rules hard to adhere to?
Gov. Romney: Not really, multiple wives can be very distracting.

Youtube: Senator Clinton, how are you going to reform the US Healthcare system to make sure that every American has Health Insurance?
Sen. Clinton: I will make Healthcare affordable for every American through the miracle of outsourcing. P.S. I hate America.

John Q. Public: Representative Kucinich, what would you say is your biggest weakness?
Rep. Kucinich: Uhhh that would have to be my small body.

Matt Lauer: Governor Huckabee, are you worried that the movie "I (heart) Huckabees" will have an adverse affect on your campaign?
Gov. Huckabee: Yes, Matt. That movie sucked major bigtime. Also, I'd like to point out that I don't hate America, but I do hate Mexicans.

Effeminate Host: Miss Caitlin, recent polls have shown that 20% of Americans can't locate the U.S. on a world map. Why do you think this is?
Miss Teen South Carolina: I personally believe the U.S. Americans are unable to do so because some people out there in our nation don't have maps and I believe that our education like such as in South Africa and the Iraq everywhere like such as and I believe they should our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S. or should help South Africa or should help the Iraq and Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future for our children.

I'm not really much of a politico, but I think I'm going to vote for ........ (drum roll please) ......... that's right, I'm voting for Senator Larry Craig. Don't ask why.

huh?

2007-12-04T09:37:00.000-08:00

Consider the following word: "Amenorrhea"

Contrary to your immediate reaction, "Amenorrhea" is not a slang term used to describe the conditions suffered by someone who grandstands his or her Christianity for others to see. Shockingly, "Amenorrhea" is a medical condition in which a woman of reproductive age does not experience a menstrual period.

Advice for new money

2007-12-03T10:53:00.000-08:00

If you're anything like me then you're not a rich man (or woman, or some sort of unholy combination of genders). But the beauty of living in a capitalistic society is that anyone can become stinking rich despite their upbringing, education level, or lack of desired physical features. Easy money comes from a variety of sources, including (but not limited to) State Lotteries, Lawsuits, Real Estate and of course Living on top of an oil reserve. If you're lucky enough to stumble into a large sum of unearned cash you may think that your troubles are over. The truth is, you have to learn to be rich.

Unless you win the Lottery or an unusually publicized settlement from a major corporation, odds are that no one will know that you're rich. Most rich folk advertise their wealth with purchases of lake houses, fancy cars, and anything made of Alpaca. You, however, need to fast-track yourself to the ranks of the well-to-do, and that is why I suggest you buy some billboard space and take out a full page ad in USA today. I'm thinking of something along the lines of you in a tuxedo (or evening gown, possibly with a tiara, I don't know) clutching some cash and giving a thumbs up. Possible headlines could read "I'm rich now" or "More Money than God" or even the slightly offensive "Up yours!".

Poor people are usually ugly. Well, actually, people are usually ugly (just going with the statistics here). Assuming you're ugly you might want to change that now, since you can afford it. Face lifts, tummy tucks, anal bleaching, whatever it takes. You're rich now, you want people to like you for your looks, not for your money.

Most uneducated, worthless people who fall into money lose it because they think they have an unlimited supply. This goes without saying, obviously, because those who cannot comprehend numbers beyond one thousand will reason that a few million is infinity. I highly recommend getting a financial manager. Keep in mind that you can't trust just any 'ole licensed, bonded financial manager with your millions of smackers. You need someone you can trust- someone you've known for a while. How about your stepfather?

There are two types of wealthy- Greedy and Lazy. You've never been greedy (thank God) so you're satisfied with simply having an infinite supply of money. You quit your job and you sleep 10 hours a day, which is a good start, but remember that there are 24 hours in a day. 24 minus 10 is, ummm, 14, and if you subtract time spent eating and drinking that leaves about, ohhh I'd say 5 hours with nothing to do. Why not spend some money on Jet Skis? While you're thinking about that I will write out a shopping list for your consideration:

Ski Boat
Hot Tub
Expensive Dogs. English Bulldogs are a good choice, as they are often born via C-Section ($$$)
Everything in SkyMall
Guns
Your very own Costco Store

The law is often an afterthought for obscenely wealthy humans. It stands to reason that with enough money you should be able to get away with anything. Examples of moneyed persons skirting common justice are plentiful, but buying your freedom is not a given. The best thing you can do is remain lawful. If you feel the need, the need for speed, then at least make sure you haven't been drinking, and possibly send your lawyer a text message before you get behind the wheel. This way your bail will have been posted by the time you are taken to the station. You'd be amazed at how much time simple planning can save you.

Surprisingly, the insanely rich often succumb to the lure of gambling. All of the pretty lights in Las Vegas can turn your piles of gold into multiple sub-prime mortgages. Why not set up your own casino? If you gamble against yourself you can't lose!

One final thought- Be creative. Everyone loves an eccentric rich person.

Christmas Card

2007-11-22T16:16:00.000-08:00

Happy Holidays!
It's Thanksgiving once again and I am filled with holiday spirit. Like most of the country I'm sure you're out of town visiting relatives. Did bad weather or crowded airports affect your holiday travel at all?
I'm staying home this holiday season. The nutcracker suite is playing through my head as I sneak through your house looking for valuables.

Christmas Blues

2007-11-06T13:49:00.000-08:00

I asked Santa to bring me true love this Christmas. He sighed and his face turned somber. "There is no such thing as true love" he said, and he stood up and motioned towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked. "Aren't you forgetting dessert?"

It was warm inside the cabin and Santa had consequently stripped down to a tank-top and boxer shorts. He did not immediately respond to my question as he was pulling on his red, furry jumper. "I should get going... I have a big day tomorrow." He tipped his hat to me and waddled out the door. I should have known better.

The next morning there was an email in my inbox with the subject "Moving on". Santa broke up with me.

Lay off me I'm starving

2007-11-05T08:46:00.000-08:00

Ever since I was a little girl, I had always wanted a pony. Each year, as I celebrated New Years alone I realized that my dream was becoming less and less a reality. Coping is a unique human trait. Fortunately I learned to settle for what the sweet lord Jesus has provided for me thus far. My job, the clothes, the vacation house, and my cachet of meaningless physical relationships are enough to keep my mind off of that which is lacking in my life.

This morning I woke early (thank you daylight savings time) and as I watched the water in the bathtub drain I decided that today I would leave the house sans-underwear. Indian summers bring out the worst in me.

Therapy went by really fast today. We talked about my childhood pets. I used to have a canary named Beth, but someone decided to let her out of her cage when I was 7. Happy birthday to me.

At work I decided to go to lunch with my friend Stephanie. We both had pasta. During lunch we talked about our dream jobs, and men. After lunch we walked to Macy's and bought snowsuits.

At work we have a male receptionist named Evan. I wonder what he would look like wearing lipstick and a skirt.

Dumbledore - "I have always been gay."

2007-11-03T19:01:00.000-07:00

The biggest news to hit the magic community since the Sorceror's Stone is sending shockwaves through wizards and muggles alike. Chamber of secrets? Not anymore. It's official, Dumbledore is gay. Sources close to Dumbledore say that they have known about his sexual orientation for a while, and that due to his increasingly flamboyant tendencies it was only a matter of time before the truth came out.

Officials speculate that this news will hurt enrollment at an already financially strapped Hogwarts Academy. If that weren't bad enough, alumni support is expected to drop to an all time low. Administrators have called an emergency meeting to discuss a plan of action. Unofficial word is that Hogwarts administration is planning to support Dumbledore in his decision to come out of the closet, although they are facing unknown results in what could be a crucial year for Wizard Academies.

Some sources have said that Dumbledore isn't actually gay. Rather, this announcement is a strategic move to position himself for a big payoff from Hogwarts in the event that he is unjustly fired. Citing alleged massive gambling debts and an addiction to barbituates, former accountant Ray Blackman believes Dumbledore is in serious financial trouble, and this is nothing more than a cry for help.

Recent polls across the Wizard community have indicated that a majority still do not approve of the homosexual lifestyle despite vast advances of the gay agenda in the Muggle world. If this is the case, Dumbledore may find himself a victim of ridicule, discrimination, and possibly hate crimes. No one knows what to expect in the coming months, but one thing is for sure- good or bad, Wizards everywhere will never be the same.

top nine reasons to give your life to Jesus

2007-11-02T13:22:00.000-07:00

9 - Sinning isn't as fun as it used to be
8 - You're kind of ugly and dating is a real chore
7 - You don't like making life decisions
6 - You're uncomfortable wearing tight or revealing clothing
5 - You need another way (other than environmentalism) to make your friends feel inferior
4 - You think a Jesus fish would look good on your Camry
3 - You heard that religious girls are the most freaky
2 - Long hair and beards appeal to you more now than they did when you were younger
1 - You don't want to go to Hell

bark if you like me

2007-02-14T16:41:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentines Day everybody.

Diaper Duty

2007-02-10T16:13:00.000-08:00

At the onset of 2006 I changed my diaper. My diaper was dirty, and my butt was getting sore from walking around with a full load. I've been wearing this new diaper since March and its starting to get unbearable. This new diaper is a cheaper brand, which means it can't hold leaks as well as the old diaper. To give you an idea of the comparative qualities of the two diapers, the old diaper lasted 3 years whereas this new diaper is going to burst in half that.

So here I am, diaper getting full, and I have a decision to make. Do I powder up, put on a new diaper and continue to soil myself? Or do I try to potty-train with the hope that one day I will wear big-boy pants?

Save the date

2006-12-07T15:27:00.000-08:00

New Years is around the corner and I'm already sending out invitations to my party. You play your cards right and you may just get one. Yesterday I started stocking up on supplies. My shopping list got a little out of control- see for yourself:

Folding Chairs
Fireworks
Streamers
Napkins featuring Adult-themed trivia
Mistletoe "pills"
Deli Tray
Tape Cassette Player Machine
Toilet Paper
Hummus
Piping Bag
Potato Chips
Ice Sculpture
Zorro Mask
New Jeans

There will be a $20 cover at the door. Did I mention there will be no alcohol?

Sensitive

2006-11-05T11:41:00.000-08:00

Chuck: If you could go back in time to prevent the Holocaust, would you?

Larry: No.

Chuck: Are you kidding me? 6 million people died and you wouldn't try to stop it?

Larry: Ok then, I would.

Chuck: Really? How would you do it? One man against an army of Nazis? You wouldn't stand a chance!

Larry: What the hell do you want from me?

Sunday

2005-12-14T16:24:00.000-08:00

I'm in Starbucks again. The same Starbucks that I spoke of yesterday. The retard behind the counter poured me some weak-ass coffee. The reason being, and I saw it coming, that he started it brewing and poured my cup shortly thereafter, which makes for a weak cup of coffee. I guess I'll get a refill. They're playing music in the background today… thank God.

I didn't do a Goddamn thing yesterday. I went back home after coffee and I watched TV and/or messed around on the internet for the remainder of the day. At one point I took an hour-long nap. At another point I ate an extra large pizza from Papa Johns. It was topped with tomatos and black olives. After the first two slices I began dumping crushed red peppers on it. I figured I needed to experience some pain while doing such a dastardly deed.

I watched the movie "Hulk" during yesterday's sloth-fest. It wasn't terrible. Ok, it was terrible.

I can't wait to take a dump… exercise my demons. I can feel the fires burning. I guess that was just a fart. I'm dirty. I haven't taken a shower since Friday morning. I like what I'm wearing. I live in such a small world. There is so much I don't know and I like that.

Saturday

2005-12-13T16:02:00.000-08:00

I just yanked a bagel from my apartment complex and carried it in my coat pocket to Starbucks, where I am now eating it. It's pretty good, too. I think I'm on to something here.

Writing may be as good as talking- perhaps better. I've been a tad frustrated lately when I hang around by myself because I have no release. The only way I could think of to get release was to strike up a conversation with someone. That is all well and good, but sometimes that can be painful to initiate. Now that I've started writing again, I'm able to find release, and it puts me in such a mental state that I wouldn't feel the hunger pains of social interaction. Yes, I think I may be on to something here.

There aren't many people here. There are never many people at this Starbucks. I don't exactly know why, but it can't help to have some of the most sour, ungrateful and mean-looking employees working here. There is an older couple sitting to my left. I bet they're staying at the hotel Magnolia, which makes up for the vast majority of the building that houses this particular Starbucks. They were talking but now they've stopped. I think they were arguing a few minutes ago.

A crazy homeless man just walked in, swearing at some figment of his imagination. He set his dufflebag down below the table by the window facing Commerce street. The older couple are definitely staying at this hotel, as I was able to conclude from what she just said- "I'm going up to the room to get some Tylenol."

The crazy homeless man is busy rifling through his dufflebag. I don't think he ever got any coffee or anything. He must be seeking shelter.

This Starbucks should be really cool but it isn't. I don't know exactly what's missing. One thing that is bothering me is that there is no background music. This makes for an eerie backdrop of noise. It also makes the locale seem less alive.

The Crazy Homeless man just walked by and muttered "Tall motherfucker…" under his breath. I don't know if he was referring to me. After all, I am of modest height; but then again, he is crazy. It turns out he did get something. It looks like a Grande-sized drink and some sort of crumbly pastry. He drinks his coffee without a lid. In between sips he rubs his face violently with his hands. Yep, crazy.

As time passes I feel the urge to find a bathroom. The coffee is beginning to take form in my digestive system, or my intestines, err whatever. Luckily I live close to here. I should make this my official Starbucks, but I really don't like the people that work here.

Climbers

2005-11-17T15:02:00.000-08:00

I hate climbers.

Crap Shoot

2005-03-22T06:49:00.000-08:00

It's been in the news lately that blogging can get you fired- especially if you vent about your company, boss, and/or coworkers. Well, I'm going to throw caution to the wind and really let my feelings out...

My manager's really been riding my ass lately. "Old Lady Griswold" - I call her, even though she's only 34 and her last name is Perkins. She get's so upset over the smallest things- like when I poured ketchup into the deep-fat-fryer, or how I show up 15-20 minutes late for my shifts, or that time when I poured Mustard into the deep-fat-fryer. She calls me out in front of my colleagues and in front of customers. I swear, she has no tact. One time, when she caught me reading magazines in the deep freeze, she flipped! She actually threw a fork at me. I think she was trying to kill me. Since I am a pacifist, I didn't fight back- instead I just showed Carl (the busboy) some of the naked pictures I took of her when we dated a few years back.

I forgot to mention that I had dated her for 5 months in 2003. She actually got me this job. But soon after we started working together our relationship started to fall apart. She claimed that I hit on some of the female customers and that I was disrespectful to her position in the restaurant just because I was her boyfriend. It's not that I wanted special treatment from her in the workplace, but I think she was extra hard on me just because she didn't want the other employees to think she was favoring me. When I finally ended our relationship she broke down in tears and begged me not to dump her...but she came to terms with it pretty well- especially after she found out that I had been boinking the new hostess, Wanda. I just hope she never thinks to tell Wanda's fiance about it- because that dude is huge and has anger problems. I think he could kill me.

I think our relationship was doomed from the beginning because she was so much older than me. She thought that she could boss me around and keep me from cheating on her. Well guess what? I'm my own man. Nobody tells me what to do. Oooh speaking of which I have to be at work in 5 minutes... shit.