Friday, April 27, 2012

This is an update.

Brought to you by me, the person who updates this blog.

Thank you for reading.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Guy comes home w/flowers

Guy comes home with flowers for his wife.

Wife says, "Ah, you're just trying to get me to spread my legs, aren't you?"

He replies, "What, don't you have a vase?"

Thursday, July 29, 2010

So WTF does "horses for courses" mean? No, I'm not going to google or wiki it. I want to suffer for awhile. I will come up with my own definitions until I can't stand it.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Who is this Christian Bale Freak?

I'm imagining that the poor victim of Mr. Bale's little "I'm-A-Big-Movie-Star-So-I-Can-Yell-And-Scream-And-Dress-Down-Any-One-I-Want-To" temper tantrum is pretty low on the totem pole in terms of the stage hierarchy there. Good.

Tell you what, if I'd been that guy on the receiving end of Mr. Bale's BULL SHIT, I'd have started by saying, "Ooops, I'm sure sorry Mr. Bale," and then, after that, I would have continued my apologies with my middle finger. Then, of course, I have would have walked over to Mr. Bale, moved within two inches of his face, and started humping his leg.

That fucker. Get him out of here. You can't apologize away what he did.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Hand Lotion and Bacon-flavored Panties

Why is it that the best moisturizing hand lotions are always in somebody else's bathroom and never in my own or on store shelves? I never seem to have good stuff. Only those whom I visit. Next time I go to a party, I'm taking a plastic baggie with me and I'm going to spurt out about half their hand lotion to keep with me.

Ok, enough with all the bacon-flavored things. I've had enough. You name it, it's out there. Bacon-flavored lip balm. Bacon-flavored mayo. Bacon-flavored chocolate. What's next, bacon-scented women's panties? Hmm...

I revere the Peanuts cartoon strip so much that I consider it blasphemy to read another strip first.

I get football, mostly. What I don't get is why you see about fourteen guys on top of each other after a fumble, like a big, feisty, manly ball on the field. That is strange. Why would the last few guys pile on top? Somebody obviously has possession of the ball down there, somewhere, don't they? I'd hate to be the ball, and I'd hate to be the man on the very bottom. I just don't get that.

Me and my GF are having a fight. They say that one way to stimulate the current low economy is to go out and buy. She's irritated with me because I want to go out and buy a Jag or a really cool dSLR camera with a long telephoto lens. WTF?

Thursday, January 8, 2009

People's Choice Awards

From the looks of this program I watched last night, Hollywood and the Entertainment industry has been taken over by a bunch of young, ditsy blond girls. Did you watch this?

Bunch of new pop crap. The only reason I watched it was to reinforce my contempt for it.

It was great. I recorded it on the DVR and I'm going to watch it again tonight.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Women.

Well this New Year started out great, Sheesh! Tonight after my girlfriend cooked such a nice dinner, I said to her, "Honey, that was so good. Hey, if I haven't told you that I love you enough, don't worry, I'll tell you a bit later, OK?"

Women.

No appreciation whatsoever.

Monday, December 22, 2008

The Pre-Freeze

I am currently sitting in a tub of very cold water and ice. You see, I've got this theory that if I prefreeze my ass and balls, then this afternoon when my GF and I participate in a sleigh ride with the temperature being a chilly 2 degrees, it won't hurt so bad then they fall off.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Love, Water, and Honey

Love is
Getting her a glass of water,
Watching the water flow.
"Yes, Honey. Sure,"
Knowing the party's still going, and you
Forget that your company left a some time ago.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Slush, School Zones, Plastic Forks, and Socks

Icy winter time again here, cold, chilly to the bone. And I'm more of a jack-ass than ever, just ask my girlfriend. I don't actually drive 80 MPH or with any real intention of climbing through the windshield to attack and eat the heart out of the driver in front of me, I just sound like it. That's part of my therapy! This is how I cope with these torments, these unnecessary and inconsiderate delays. Does it ever really matter that we get into work at 7:09 instead of 7:07 every morning? I know it doesn't. My GF thinks that I don't know it, though, and that I'm always seriously concerned with losing a minute here or there. Bah! This morning, in formally sort-of-snowy but now mostly-slushy conditions, there was a driver in front of me who thought it safest to make her* way through the middle of two lanes. This of course infuriated me so I of course let loose verbally which led to my GF getting all upset, saying I'm a dangerous driver and I should be more understanding and patient and .... oops, wait a second, look up ahead: Those school zone flashers will activate in less than a minute at 7:00 A.M. and a driver ahead of me is going 18 instead of the current limit of 45. Oh shit, like, "Don't drive too fast, you poor, timid, feeble, soul, otherwise you'll miss the the slow zone!" Idiot.

What is it lately with all these web sites and books and things showing all the places to see before you die? It's like stuff you need to do before leaving on a jet plane. I don't want to be reminded that I'm going to die and that I better do or see such and such. Give me a break. Just show me cool places around the world and I'll make up my own damn mind on what I want to see or where I want to go.

I work in a place where the cheap-ass cafeteria provides only cheap-ass plastic eating ware. I can't keep jack shit on my tiny plastic fork, it's always falling off. What can you comfortably eat with one of those? I can't cut jack shit with my stupid, cheap-ass dull plastic knife. What is the point? Never order a steak in a cafeteria that doesn't offer real knifes. They ought to cut up the meat in small, toddler-sized chunks so I don't have to screw with trying to cut my meat with such a dull utensil. It's like using a comb to cut through leather. They ought to have a food processor right next to the cash register.

I can't stand it when my socks fall down. You will even see me walk funny, such that my leg and calf muscles stay flexed enough to hold them up. Speaking of socks, have you ever noticed that October Fest revelers, you know with their outfits, socks up to their knees and all, dance like they need a wedgie remover?

* actually it was a guy who drives like a girl!