The Good, The Bad and The Ugly of Kimbo- 2010 Edition

Something of a year that two thousand and ten. It's over, here's what happened. No particular order.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

1. A tree fell on my car- The Bad

It was a beautiful sunny Friday in Canton Baltimore. I had gotten a ride to work that day because I was having car trouble and it just wasn't safe having a car cutting off on 83 at a high rate of speed. A co-worker that lives in my Brewer's Hill neighborhood picked me up that morning. Ironically, this was the first time meeting her. Blah blah work goes on. It's the night of an O's game so traffic is slow going. As we near my house she says "wait which one is your house again?" to which I answered "right where that fucking tree is on my car." LaFawnduh is no longer with us.

2. The Return of the McRib- The Good
Some say it's gross. I say they're gross. Always loved it and will embrace it in my face upon it's return each time. I'm so glad to know that I have a McRib alliance in my life these days. We're like the Kiss Army but with out make-up. It mostly involves smearing McRib sauce on our faces and touching ourselves. Come back soon you delicious riblet.















3. I catch my ass on fire- The Ugly
In a perfect storm of ridiculous and probability, this is a true story. Whatever you do, DO NOT have two packs of matches in your back pocket. It's dangerous. It was getting late and I was one of perhaps six people in the bar. I was at a table with the owner and another friend. As I slid off my stool, someone behind me said "what's that smell?" I was feeling my left ass cheek warming up. I looked over my left shoulder to see smoke coming out of my pocket. I reached in pulled out the two packs of on fire matches and slammed them on the table. In a miracle that only a baby angel can provide, I was not burned and neither were my pants. It's why I'm called the "Silent Genius."


4. Baby Skylar Beats Cancer- The Good
Jewely, one of my dearest kindest friends in the whole world, got unfortunate news this summer. Her five year old nephew was diagnosed with Leukemia and was ordered to treatment immediately. He spent his summer vacation getting chemo. While playing at the pool he had an accident and cracked his head open which called for staples. School started....still on chemo. A short story that seemed really long, we recently found out that Skylar is cancer free!


5. Getting Broken Up With Via Text Message- The Ugly
Not only did this happen, it happened while I was in Germany.(yes, a foreign country) In a perfect act of cowardice and a grown-up fail...true story. In other news, it might be time to bring back the blog "red flag." A hit from the beginning of my blog. Please refer to my "The Awesomeness of Dating...I Know You're Reading This" entry. I have one rule to dating for myself really..."never bet against your own team." Kim rule following fail. Two red flags, first date. When you hear these words "you know we're getting married right" or "iIhave federal drug chargers for cocaine" there shouldn't be a second date. At the end of the day, a text message when you're 30 years old to break-up with someone with whom a few days earlier you spoke to about moving in with and with whom you were constantly planning your future with is...well...enter your own descriptor here. Man fail=Kimbo win. Bullet dodged. I guess we can also label this one "the good."

6. Ben Rothlisberger Finally Gets That Tampon He Needs- The Good
It was a little different than the one he usually needs as this one was for his nose. One highly esteemed Mr. Haloti Ngata of the Baltimore Ravens honored his request with a good old fashion nose break. And for this, we salute you Mr. Ngata.




7. My Gig Writing for Splice Today- The Good
Though short lived it was a nice fun paid writing gig to shit my scantily clad logical view about the worldwide web. They range from sports stories to pop culture to politics. Below are the links to all of my stories, several in the top 5...what? what!?
http://www.splicetoday.com/sports/milledgeville-ga-your-new-touristy-rape-spot
http://www.splicetoday.com/digital/betty-white-2-0
http://www.splicetoday.com/sports/the-team-no-one-follows
http://www.splicetoday.com/sex/the-sec-sex-how-not-to-surf-for-porn-in-2010
http://www.splicetoday.com/digital/because-we-haven-t-seen-anything
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/justin-bieber-the-gay-propaganda-nazi
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/my-love-of-informercials
http://www.splicetoday.com/music/rock-n-roll-high-school-30-years-on
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/10-things-i-hate-about-you
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/the-inner-harbor-s-dog-crap-problem
http://www.splicetoday.com/consume/speakeasy-saving-o-donnell-square-one-drink-at-a-time
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/some-day-are-worse-than-others
http://www.splicetoday.com/digital/google-suggest-shocking-stupidity-revealed
http://www.splicetoday.com/politics-and-media/patrick-mcdermott-s-bizarre-disappearance
http://www.splicetoday.com/pop-culture/perez-hilton-and-my-continual-obsession-with-celebrity-gossip



8. James Madison beats Virginia Tech- The Good
I've met a lot of people in my life who don't know that James Madison is a university. They do now. Boy I miss Harrisonburg sometimes as demonstrated in the video below. (nice little minute montage of the old days) Proud of my Dukes!

9. I can ride my bike with the handlebars backwards- The Good and The Ugly
Picture it, night of Oktoberfest party, Baltimore, 2010. A nice little party, after I had already drank for breakfast and lunch, and we've decided to play cornhole, bags or whatever you know it as. An owner of a local watering hole wants to play with us. We set up only to realize that the cat of one of my friend's roommates has peed on the beanbags. After trying to play with rubber gloves and me vomiting, (I'm not good with smells) we halt. After letting some drunk girls throw a couple because we thought it was funny they were throwing pee bags without knowledge, I made a move. I called another local pub and was lent a bike to go get the bags. I get there, get the bags, come out and can't figure out what the hell is wrong with the handle bars. This said, I had to get back. Picture it..me riding down one way streets, braking with my thumbs and giggling. I get back to proclaim that "I broke the bike and don't know what happened." I hop off, they promptly just turn the handlebars around. This was the night I saved bags. There may or may not have been other factors involved.(read this like a warning at the end of a pharmaceutical commercial)














10. I Finally see Muse live- The Good
Last but not least...I had tickets to see Muse with my friend Marjorie when I lived in LA. We had bomb seats because we worked for Warner Brothers so...you know. I decided to move to TX and missed the damn show. That was nearly 4 years ago. Finally in March I got to see Muse at 1st Mariner Arena which is nice and small. I can honestly say it was one of the best live shows I have ever, ever seen. Thanks Muse. You melted my face. I can't find any pics of the show right now but all I can say is LASER BEAMS!

And that concludes my top ten of twenty ten. May 2011 be filled with mishaps, awesomeness and assholes so I have something to write about. Peace y'all!

The great toaster nemesis, Mysti Bluee and primal conspiracy.

It's the giving season and I like to help people so I'll start with an open letter. A heart felt one. (Please read with the "Eye of the Tiger" guitar riff in your head, over and over. Riff only)

Dear Old Man Winter,

Go to hell and die. I hate you. I am more tired than Rip Torn's face, of chasing my goddamn garbage cans down the street. It's like a sport, a kill sport. I have to find the can and the lid in time before some asshole runs over them. Looking for the lid underneath cars and skulking down alleys like a turd. Hoping that some asshole pigeon or alley cat doesn't get territorial with me. I almost got killed by a flock of pigeons the other day. Do you know how much I already hate pigeons? I give them nasty comments in public on a regular basis. They're grosser than that time Billy Bob Thorton and Angelina Jolie were doing it.


Now, that bitch friend of yours, Wind? You have got to get a hold of her. While chasing my trash can I was so cold, I'm pretty sure I lost circulation in my boobs. Boobbite. You both suck.


Love,
Kim
-PS, really don't appreciate having to chase the trash cans. I live on a hill. Asshole.

So yeah, I hate the cold, so what? That stinging you get inside your nose that makes you cry because of the air temperature is as awesome as catching a table leg with my pinky toe. Thanks for the bonus bloody noses and body aches though. I like bonuses.

I'm also not a fan of Xmas. It's got terrible music, terrible sweaters and terrible intentions. BOOOOOOO Xmas! Seriously, I can't go enjoy myself at the corner pub without my soul being stabbed to death by stupid people rushing the bar on their winter pub crawl dressed up in K-Mart sweaters and robot santa hats...farting and stinking out my bar. Those hats are creepy as hell and aren't cute much less comedic. Yeah, you're awesome you have a hat you can turn on. Such a wild and crazy guy you are. So now that it's butt to nut in the place, you're going to start dropping beer farts? I could kill you. I gag when I walk by a dumpster. I'm not equipped for this. Of courrrrrrse, it's far too cold to go outside plus, parting the sea of morons is way to much work. Pffft, a sea, you did it wrong Jesus. Try parting the sea of morons, or maybe try to part a fart. A sea? Loser.

And this, this is what I would classify as a rape sweater. Wearing this sweater may cause headaches, seizures, confusion and ambition problems.



I realized the other day that I have a cancel button on my toaster. This is amazing to me. All my life I have never been able to wait for the toast to naturally pop-up from the toaster. I have always forced the slider back up. I realized, the toaster is my nemesis. For some reason, my extreme lack of patience while toasting has become a nemesis situation. I don't know why but I don't want that bastard to beat me. I end the toasting first. I END THE TOASTING. The discovery of the cancel button kind of made my world. In other news, I have a toaster. SCREECH!!!

I have found myself in the unfortunate situation of becoming entrapped in daytime television shows recently. It's really starting to effect my everyday social interactions. When people say hello to me, I find myself shouting "you ARE the father!" or "get off my stage!" You ever seen Judge Karen? She's a spicy black with yellow hair. Awesome. Real Judge, real drama, real justice. She'll tell you... "Stay in your lane!" *The content of that link in does not reflect this blog's views.



Now...meet, Mysti Bluee. I originally saw her on Judge Karen's Court. Upon googling her (she made her television plea because she's a rapper), turns out she was also in the running to be on Flavor of Love. That link will take you to her super classy dope audition tape for the show. She is a gem. Back to her appearance on Judge Karen though. She was on the show suing a guy who f'd up her paint job on her '04 Ford Taurus. She explains that she's a diva in East Hollywood (that's where people get stabbed and robbed) and she always goes out "suited and booted." She has to look good everywhere she goes, that's why she was getting the Playboy bunny logo painted on her car. Every statement she made was followed by, "I mean, look at me?"



The truth is, how could we not!?? Everywhere you go, how could we not?

Today I think we need to salute you, Captain Awesome, for the not-so-awesome name change. I, I can't even go into this one. You sir, are an idiot. And for this, we give you a novelty robotic santa hat.

I've always been one for theories, so I'll just go at it. I can't say for sure, whether that guy who looks like a tragic love child of Bill Mahr, Martha Stewart and a Chinese kitten, Julian Assange,


or the sheer evils of Paula Abdul is behind it BUT...I've found that most internet traffic directed to my blog through google search is via the below picture.



I'm beginning to think that this picture holds a secret back end code. I suspect it may hold the WikiLeaks "poison pill" that could do international damage. On the flip side, it could just contain Paula Abdul's pills and she already has done international damage.



Cute picture I suppose but I think it really throws people off when they find themselves perusing a blog entry called "Feces, Pretzels and legitimate fears. Shhhh, I see sound."

In reflecting upon seasons, divas and good old conspiracy, let's roll credits and end scene to this. Actually, watch this clip first and hum what sue is humming. Very perfect.




I've done my best to prove why cold and xmas sucks. I know there are so many of you who aren't with me. I don't get it. I am learning that chasing my garbage cans can be like boot camp and as much as I hate it, it could prove to be useful. Follow your dreams...television judge shows and you TOO can be a rapper and never underestimate a toaster. Zulu Nation and Jew. (i really wanted to use those terms in this blog but couldn't quite find the right spot, had to get it out)

The Original Gangsta and Humanity and the Bean

Yes, yes. Once again I've been neglectful. You too may have noticed, my splice days ended. I had several stories in the top 5 and they dropped a bunch of writers, one being me. Short lived but fun. Plus, I was in a relationship that can only be described in all truthiness by the picture below.


Through thought and request, I've once again been prompted to rip the devil's bowels through his urethra with some bantor. Either way, we'll always have things to discuss. Do I start with people's bumper stickers? The absolute garbage of humor or Kanye West's diamond teeth? That should not be permitted like being atheist or gay as deemed by the Boy Scouts. The King of flagrant douchebaggery was quoted as saying "I guess there's just certain things that rock stars are supposed to do." Roll song and read next paragraph...






First of all Sir (with this honorific I've already given you much too credit), you are not a rock star. A rock star bleeds on stage, wears sweaty leather pants, invents signature stage moves, fills swimming pools up with unnecessary things like condoms and pigeons because they can and bouts with addictions of any sort. Last but not least...plays rock n' roll. Additionally when feuding with fellow artists they write songs and have invitations like "get in the ring motherfucker!" or they fight. Though many of today's "rock stars" take to tweeting like a bunch of pussies, I've yet to see one run on stage while a cocoa pop 19 year old artist is getting a VMA of all things and start shit. Simply put, they never run on stage and bitch about awards they didn't get. Everybody knows that real rock stars know awards are bullshit and could care less.



For many of us, I know these are uncertain times. However, when I log onto facebook and your post to another person is "what's that home decorating blog because i need some inspiration," Fuck you. Are you kidding me? If you reach out to home decorating blogs for inspiration, I must be lost as a human being. I'm pretty sure I can find more earnest nuggets of inspiration in a Jack Handy quote. Probably even a fortune cookie. Maybe in a riddle on the bottom of a Natty Boh cap.




It leads me to believe that most of you is hollow like Christine O'Donnell and do you know about her? She created a platform around anti-masturbation and equated it to adultery. I just want to point out that I do NOT have thousands of kids. Her father actually played Bozo the Clown on television at one point. This at least gives me an idea of the tip of the iceberg. Like the tiiiiipppy tip tip tip. That's it.



I remember sometime towards the end of my illustrious inhabitance of TX a story where a man threw a burrito at the clerk and ran out of the store with some shit. They never caught him. I feel like it was Bedford but it's best to forget that place. A few days ago, a man and woman tried to rob a jewelry store with a trash bag, a kitchen knife and a wheelchair. I would just like to point out that a burro is a better fucking getaway car than a wheelchair. Sooooo, you thought you were really going to rob a jewelry store, that I'm sure is full of cash for gold caliber type items, name necklaces that say "Cricket" in cursive and dollar signs, like this:




1. park wheelchair

2. put on trash bag

3. rise from wheelchair and enter store

4. demand everything with a kitchen knife

5. get everything and exit store

6. get back into wheelchair where dubious partner is waiting to push you off into the sunset




That is so fucking gangsta, I hope that wheelchair has spinners.


I'll make this one short. I've got to start breaking these things into installments anyway. What have we learned this time around? Wheels are not always better, apparently there is a separation between church, state and masturbation (I think it's in the Constitution Christine) and whatever you do...don't reciprocate. End scene and roll credits to "The Way It Is" by Bruce Hornsby.

I know this sounds crazy like Tom Sizemore BUT...

I'm currently writing stories twice a week for Splice Today to rock your jock. My days are Mondays and Wednesdays and you can find my little stories like crack rocks of opinion between your couch cushions. I mean in the "The Feed" section on the home page. If you didn't know, now ya do. Here are the links to my two first stories, new one tomorrow. Enjoy or fuck off. Either is fine with me. Also, feel free to spread and re-post them or this blog like a dirty love fever.

Milledgeville GA: Your New Touristy Rape Spot

Betty White 2.0

Stupidia, Lady Mustaches and Chicken Pianos with Drakaar on top

Hello Cheeldren! I want to begin by saying yes. I live in Baltimore. I just wanted to clear that up. I no longer reside in the dirty south and have acclimated very nicely. Baltimore welcomed me with open arms and before you knew it I was walking down the street saying "fuck your mother!" to drunken strangers. I am officially a Baltimoron.




Now it's 450AM...so I figure that I better start typing this blog I've been speaking of forever and a day since I can't fall asleep. Of course, now that I'm awake a flagrant parade of stupidia is marching through my head. Things like, how come when I sigh and I'm exhaling I make that series of bangs that occurs on the old MTV News intro right before Kurt Loder came on? That's a surface scratch thought but it is a real thing. Not too long ago I let out a sigh of frustration that much sounded like chewbacca getting punched in the throat or a walrus and a seal mating. I'm pretty sure my roommates are terrified, I hear cocking and loading coming from downstairs. I actually did scare myself, I'm holding my own hand. They might think it's the great beast of Baltimore who comes in the middle of the night to braid your hair while you sleep except he doesn't use your hair, he makes braids out of his Chewbacca hair and glues them to your head.


I'm beginning to feel so blessed everytime I read the news. Blessed because how else can one be so depressed, amused and compelled all at the same time? Yep, another news story of a celebrity going to sex rehab. A public Mea Culpa to save your image makes me laugh. Listen here David Duchovny, Tiger Woods, Jesse James, Eric Benet...give me a goddamn break. I'd like to go around acting like an asshole and blaming my actions on sex too except that I'm a realist. I TOO like sex but you don't see me walking around shirking any type of responsibility because I had sex on the brain. I don't want to hear any lame excuses either like "my indiscretions were actually the fault of friends like Michael Jordan." That's right because they're YOUR indiscretions. Asshole. Sex is pretty much like...the oldest thing in the world. Men have always innately had it on the brain, as go the jokes. Women do too, we just handle it a little more properly like not touching our junk in public. This is just adding onto the next bullshit thing in American society to not take responsibility for. We've grown into that culture as we started suing innate objects because we're dumb and now we're just taking it to a new level. When I grow up, I want to be an asshole and I'll sue to do it because that's my right. I'm going to get my name changed to Asshole Jones and have kids named Brown Eye and Butthole.

I have been noticing, speaking of stupidia, the ridiculousness of all things Facebook. I started the"Pickle Ass Fart Nose" page nine months ago to prove how people could be a fan of anything. Compared to what people are fans of now, Pickle Ass Fart Nose(become a fan...official fan club t-shirts coming soon) should be the next president. He is actually cool now. I've noticed the new trend is to become a fan of past actions. Ding Dong McGuillicutty just became a fan of "When I was growing up I had to record songs off the radio onto tape" and Ding Dong McGuillicutty just became a fan of "When I grew up I had to blow into video games to make them work" Fucking brilliant. Really? Thank you for stating what you ACTUALLY had to do. This is really clearing the way for such hit pages as "When I was born I had to come out of my mother's vagina" "When I grew up I had to walk to the bathroom" and "When I was growing up I farted with my butt." Then there are the people who just became a fan of the sky, moon, happiness. I am a fan of air and a fan of angst so I can take a deep breath before I let it all out. Christ in a tube top! I realized too, I am a fan of some dumb things...like the Blue Ridge Mountains for example. I am friends with them. They don't care about me. They don't care that I used to hike to bear's den, drink beer and pee on them. They really don't give a shit about me.It's really getting ridiculous.

+

= Fan

My friend Kim Fowler changed her status to:

"Kim Fowler is now friends with herself. Kim Fowler became a friend of Kim Fowler! Kim Fowler just joined the group "Kim Fowler is Awesome" And then Kim Fowler commented on all of this." She is saying it kind of best.

Since I have so many ridiculous things to say this time around, I'll stick with the theme. Focus Factor. I saw a commercial for the pills pictured below. They're for your brain. One of the actual selling points on the commercial is an old man saying "remember names, birthdays and even your keys." Wow, that sounds like some powerful shit. Orrr you could just try to not be a complete retard.

This is also a real thing. I have a terrible feeling I might even know someone who has this. Behold, the Hug-E-Gram. It is for one your loved one is away and you need a hug. You can also personalize these giant life like Mickey Mouse arms with a message like a Build-A-Bear. This may be the worst invention I've seen since the Shake Weight.

This infomercial is Awesome.

Not only would this gift be automatic grounds for breaking-up, it may also be just cause for life dismissal.

There is a receptionist at my office. The name of the person has been changed to protect her privacy. I'll call her "Special." I do not understand how her thoughts appear and what process takes place before she becomes audible and says a sentence.

Me: Do you know if we have any legal pads? I don’t see any.

Special: Well, I know, when I started here in October for that freelance thing or whatever, I couldn’t find any either. And all of the RSVP’s have been sent out for my sister’s wedding, you know, but some of them got kicked back and our family doesn’t know Keith’s side of the family so nobody knows what to do. Some people might get here tomorrow, some people might get here next week so we told him just to call them since it’s his family. (Phone Rings) I walk away confused.

The other day I caught her typing in antidisestablishmentarianism into Merriam-Webster.com. I said "whatcha doin'?" She said, "I'm trying to see if this is really a word, my friend says it is look" and shows me her phone. I say "it is." She says "what does it mean?" As I started to say do you know what "anti" means? The phone rang. Saved by the bell again. How in the holy god shit would I explain something like that to her? I am fairly certain she is confused by capital and lower case letters.

I recently had to get her to personalize a powerpoint presentation that we run at the front desk to welcome a guest. My interaction was so frustrating I had to walk away in the middle to get a cup of coffee. It was like trying to explain something to a Chinese person in German using sign language. Plus, I could not take my eyes off her mustache. My god man. It might be blonde but everyone can see it. I'm looking right at it. It's not hot. Take care of that! I'm f'n Italian and you don't see me walking around with a mustache. Also, somebody needs to trim their bush. That's just out of hand.

I'm not sure what her deal is but she often bursts out with spontaneous sentences about things in which I have to clue to what she is referring. The power was out the other day, that ding bat saw a man waiting at the door, obviously our cards don't work. She starts for the door the cuts and walks behind the desk and tried to buzz him in. No words. Then I'm forced to say something mild to her like, "hey silly, remember, the power is out?" That's not what I wanted to say. It's like when someone says "I like your hat." It's a lie. They're shocked and what they really want to say is "did you make that?" Same reason someone holds the door open for you. I don't care who it is, it's not to be polite, it's to check out your ass.

Since we're talking about work, I just want to point something out to vendors and anyone reading this that I can help. Calling me and telling me your husband just passed away will not help me make a purchasing decision. That's what you get for getting married.

You know, in hindsight, maybe I should have just gone to the Birthingway College of Midwifery and avoided the office situation entirely. Perhaps I should have gone to the Pacific College of Oriental Medicine. Zen bitches. Zen. I guess then, I wouldn't be amused by the last names I come across in my daily life like Farthing and Dumerer. Cracchiolo was a good one too. Sounds like the typical American tried to say crotch in Spanish.

Pet Stars...are you aware of this? The Pet Stars? This is not a joke and that is Mario Lopez.

This show had "celebrity guests." By celebrity I mean James Avery, yep, the dad from Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Mr. Avery was joined by some chick who used to be on Baywatch and the host of "Dinner and a Movie." Seriously, how many times to we have to see a chicken play a small piano? Plus, that was SO already done on the Golden Girls...Count Bessie the showbiz chicken. I want to take that piano and the little toilet that a bird can flush with his beak and place them in Mario Lopez's ass.

I don't often eat at McDonald's but sometimes you just need that shit. Do you know that if you get a breakfast sandwich and ask for no egg, the high tech order accuracy screen says "no folded." The egg is called "folded." That's just gross. While I'm on food, I want to address you, yeah you. You people who create kitchens in your cubicles. Not only do we have every utensil, dish and storage option along with two microwaves in the company kitchen, there are not one but TWO Super Toasty Ovens.

As you read this next part, imagine it as read by Denis Leary.

You do not need coffee makers, hot plates, espresso machines, toasters, dishes...office shelves filled with peanut butter, fruit, chips, cereal, bread, nutella and pot roasts. You fucking asshole. This is why my area of the office smells like a Turkish food bizarre. No cubicle kitchens! Not now, not ever!

I'll say it too. Right to you. I don't care what people at work think of me, it's already bad. The other day I was typing "title page" and got called away so stopped typing and left. When I got back, there it was in big letters. I had left "tit" in big letters right there. I sit right outside of the CEO's office. I don't need fans at the office. You know what else? If you have "Director" or "President" in your title, no "LOL'ing" in emails! What the hell man?(in Stewie's voice)

In the age of texting and the internet, words have gotten ridiculous. Nothing is worse than the fact that my mother knows how to text. It's bad enough that my mom says "like" every other word like some 13 year old valley girl, now she's lol'ing and omg'ing. Christ. She said at dinner the other night "I said well, John, you have some BOB going on." When I asked what BOB was I get "oh you've never heard that?" Like I'm out of the cool kid loop. Apparently BOB means belly over belt. It's called a muffin top or perhaps a just a gut. Fucking old people initialisms suck. Internet talk has really make talking annoying. It's so unintelligent. I'd like to say why didn't kids think of using the first letter of words to speak in code earlier? Then I would say oh, because it's dumb. STFU. The next person who says TMI gets sucker punched too. It's 2010. Now this below...this is just dumb. Somewhere in Locust Hill looking out to Fells Point which I can now obviously deem the wrong side of the tracks.

I uh...well. Somewhere in PA on a road trip a few months back, we stopped to eat. I went to the bathroom and this was on the toilet.

I was worried that this sensor mechanism was doubling as a small camera and I must admit I was a little pee shy. This company's name for the product they provide= Terrible F!

Something I've noticed is that a lot of people lately have the "grass is always greener" syndrome. I think we all have it sometimes it just seems to be the season. A lot of one day this, one day that. It's like living on the internet...what content of that last expression is veritable and what needs to be snoped? I'm taking notes and I'm here to tell you, sometimes the grass is only greener because it's fake. Get a hold of yourself man. Now, granted I was in Dundalk when I saw this, it is a slightly different inner confusion.

It may be a little hard to tell but yes, that is a Bad Boyz sticker, a No Fear sticker and a peace sign. Wow. That is one kick ass hippie. I'll also bet he carries a comb in his back pocket and wears Drakkar.

Until next time, we're all going to be ok. End scene and roll credits to "Too Fake" by one of my new favorite bands, Hockey. Rock.

You Pregnant? Gay scissors merrily concussing.

Hello creature features. *Record scratch! Um...there's a woman on TV named Antigone...does she know she's named after the product of an incestuous affair? Maybe they skip Oedipus in Detroit. *placing needle back on record. Today I learned from television, the second most accurate source of information next to the internet, that one in four women misread pregnancy tests. Really? Well, that tells me that one in four women should surely not be having sex...and that two of four are sluts. I know statistics are flawed but I'd say this is about accurate. I'm basing this upon my observations that 70% of girls below 25 already have 3 kids. (that's the mother on the right)


Well, that and 25% of them are confused by a + or - and or a color on an urine activated indicator stick. However, these numbers may be flawed as I currently reside in the south.

Speaking of the internet, which I love love love, it's changed communication so hugely. I freakin' love it but I've got to say I think its led to a little detachment from human touch. I mean, look how much more pervasive having sex with yourself is now that we have the internet. Some people even regret living outside the virtual world and choose to notify their partners of STD's via e-cards. Really? Nothing says "sorry I made your vagina fall off" like a cartoon laden ecard containing and emoticon frowny face. As I only speak truth, see for yourself. ST D-Cards.

As I smoke along in this Pall Mall of a life, I cannot help but make note to build onto this giant pile of shit I already am. Despite my recent concussion, I still maintain my notes. OH! what happened? I got chased by a grizzly bear and a dark ninja(these are poseur ninjas that only do evil) jumped out in front of me. Though I defeated both of them with no problem, a granite counter ran out and knocked me in the head.

Of course this happened while at a family function. This fact alone made me hope for unconsciousness. While there, my sweet quote generating Aunt stated her reasoning for not allowing her gay hair dresser to do her hair anymore. She began to explain her fear of her head getting nicked by the scissors and getting AIDS to which my awesome cozen(yes like Larry and Balky) replied "scissors don't have AIDS Ma." I never heard of scissor AIDS or gay scissors anyway. IS this one?


Anyway, one observation I've made recently is 1 corona+1 man from England= tool. I don't know why I have such an issue with that but don't you? It's like a German coming here and going to Wiener Schnitzel or someone from Switzerland going to the Hershey factory.

While I'm on foreigners, I saw this bumper sticker today. The only unfortunate thing is that I didn't have my phone with me to snap a picture so I had to google it. Hopefully this serves the same effect for you.
While this may be true I'll bet my ass it wasn't a foreigner who formulated this sentence. I'm just sayin. In this day and age there's so much focus on things like racial profiling including foreigners. I can't help but think that people purposely throw things out there as a watchdog mechanism to gauge people's responses with moves like this. I read an article on fancy horse hairdos. WHAT? That's normal. Anyway, here are the pictures that were included in the story.

See...you think what I thought! Avert your eyes and keep your comments to yourself. Otherwise you're an insensitive racist. I saw a new politically correct "no parking" sign the other day. It read:

"Please refrain from parking your rickshaws, scooters, unicycles, bicycles, tricycles, quad-cycles, golf-carts, gondolas with wheels, invisible jets, Flintstone mobiles, Bat mobiles, assorted mobiles, oxen, llamas, como se llamas, cows, horses, mules, ponies, donkeys, miniature versions of the same, unicorns, winged unicorns, Pegasus, giant snakes, lambs, goats, inanimate objects powered by pixie dust, hovercrafts (with/without eels), Segways or any other devices used to get your body from point A to Point B in this dimension here. Teleportation is, as always, allowed."

Ok, I really didn't see that but I'm sure we're not far off.

I know that if you're reading this you have to be smart. On my recent trip and 3 different airports, I saw all kinds of people AND don't get me wrong, I love people except for the ones that I hate. Not only in Syracuse, did I see what for all descriptive purposes we'll call "Mr. Wolf Moon," but also at Love Field. This is what I mean and please read the reviews of this product

Mr. Wolf Moon

AAAAAAAmaz-za-zing!

Since I consider myself an optimist, let's talk about email signatures. Nothing like a fresh breath of someone else's life to inject a revelation into yours. There's a guy at work who sends out motivational statements to everyone in the morning to get the day started. The other day he sent:
"An optimist is someone who goes after Moby Dick in a rowboat and takes the tartar sauce with him."

I usually counter that with "the next person who takes the last of the coffee and doesn't start a fresh pot, hide. you're about to get your stupid head ripped off and shoved up your stupid ass. have a nice day."

A vendor sent me an email and her signature is "Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why we call it the present. " I can already tell she's single, enjoys a glass of wine but she puts ice in it, wears a gold necklace that is the cursive letter her first name starts with and generally plays it safe by doing things like not cooking fish out of fear of under cooking it and getting sick.

Since we're on the topic of things that suck, I've put myself in a position of needing a fix for all shows "real housewives." I am ashamed to admit it except that everyone else I know follows too. The latest..."The Real Housewives of New Jersey." What did they expect to happen? Find Jersey girls with manners? Not even the rich ones in NJ. I've also unfortunately come to realize I've recently had a Danielle in my life.


Somewhat physical similarities but mostly behavioral. Danielle has quite an extensive past marred with drugs and bad judgement. Then, to save face forges on through life with half truths out of fear of being exposed forcing the words of truth subtly to slip from her lips. I think we all know they type. Those who live by the creedo "If I don't talk about it, it's like it's not real." Otherwise known as liars. It becomes unfortunate because you truly care about the person but continuously hit your limits. And they don't care...as long as they get what they need. As much quoted by Vonnegut, pearls before swine. No sense in putting anything out there to someone who won't value it. Kinda funny how something as useless and trite as a real NJ housewife can lead to epiphanies.
Click below and listen while reading the rest



Well I'm looking forward to my next big puff from this Pall Mall of a life. What have we learned today? This time I won't summarize, I'll let you marinate in your own thought this time. Continue to roll credits and get ready to ride it big and tall or not at all. Big changes ahead. Stay tuned! Peace bitches.

Feces, pretzels and legitimate fears. Shhh, I see sound.

You know, I can't be sure but I would like to propose a theory that petting zoos are the gateway to hell. You know I'm not a religious person so I'm referring to hell on earth of course. Have you ever noticed how mangy and crazy eyed animals are in a petting zoo? That's especially discomforting when you eat half of those animals. Then we encourage our children to pet them. Do you know how dirty children's hands already are? Before they touch the animal they have bathroom door, boogers, found sidewalk gum, crotch juice, dirt and dog lick on them. Did you know you can get e-coli at a petting zoo? Then the children vomit and excrete from all orifices which you have to clean up. That's the first step of hell. Then they spread it to everyone. Kids are carriers. They are most likely to cause a plague in the 21st century. It's a proven fact. They spread like rats and have the resilience of cockroaches. Then if the children get killed off from the filthy petting zoos, who will be our future? WHO will stop the pirates? Then the pirates will take over and disease will REALLY be everywhere. Do you know how filthy pirates are? Good Googamooga. We don't have to worry about another ice age if we're heading towards the pirate plague. We will have to take pills to remind us to take our pills. Please everyone. I beg you. Do not let the below image fool you.



In the true fashion of my scattered thoughts, I will be brushing my teeth and going back to Chris Brown biting Rihanna. Who bites anyway? Biting is for babies and dogs both of which dribble and poop in the dining rooms of restaurants. Then I think about the lawmaker in TX(State Rep Betty Brown (512) 463-0458) last week who wants to make Asian people change their names so Americans can pronounce them. Then I thought about pirates and the Sham Wow guy beating a hooker. Then a dolphin swims by singing a slow club song and I'm back to having the greatest day of my life. Feel free to hit play and let the tune guide you through the rest of your reading.




Lot's of people have buzzwords. I'm more of a buzzphrase girl. Things like "what's up my ninja?" or "bitch, i will cut you and kick you in titty." Is it wrong to tell someone(over 60) that if they don't shut up I will smack them so hard their brains will come out of their vagina? It's kind of my new thing. I think it very appropriately sums up my emotions at times. I'm not a violent person but it really is worth the look I get after saying it. It makes me feel good like salami, sex and music from the 90's.

Well now I'm driving down the street. It's lovely outside. Big blue skies and big puffy clouds. Then, a little rock falls out of the sky and hits my windshield. There was no logical explanation so naturally I thought, "wow, a bird just passed a kidney stone and it hit my windshield." Lucky! I'll have you know I've also seen a hummingbird take a crap. I wasn't sure this could be the only plausible explanation though. The stone could have also reasonably been a piece of petrified space bird shit. That's a long way to fall you know? Space?


I've been looking around a lot lately. Human beings never cease to amaze me. This girl...


I like to call this picture American Dream. Really? In a room full of people? Even if you have a cute ass(not pictured here), the bottom line of your cheek is supposed to be above the hemline.

This one I call "I got crabs."



Then there's this person. They have a job.



I mean, I know people in The South are into Looney Toons themed clothing and tattoos but this was a little special. He was all "Thug Life" and wearing this hoodie.



To me...this doesn't scream "ALL UP IN YOUR ASS WITH THE RESURRECTION!" it kind of whispers, Gangtas can be gay too.

It hit me as I was eating some Cheerio's brand chex mix. I kept digging around for the chex and getting mostly all pretzels. Those are the cheap over abundant ingredient that nobody wants! They deserve nothing more then getting fingered by dirty hands in bowls on bars across America. In a bowl full of pretzels and those deformed little breadsticks there are only a few chex. They're a rarity. I seek them. If I ever run a personal ad it will say "chex seeking chex." Maybe I've got myself fooled and I really AM a pretzel but I will try everyday with all my might to jump back in the oven and fix that. If I didn't live in the mix though, I would have nothing to tell you about I think.

Sometimes you have a chexzel. You have people like the BTK Killer. Church going, married,daughters and respected member of his community. His wife knew nothing of him binding, torturing and killing people for nearly 20 years. I'm just saying you never know. Now people can watch you on Google, cyber stalk you and generally have an incredible amount of access to you without you ever knowing. You can never truly know someone now matter how hard you try. That could be their hand you're seeing facilitate things in that porn you're viewing. You never know.

Back to dolphins and slow club and the greatest day of my life



There's something else I learned about recently called Synesthesia. I totally want this disease. It's a condition where your senses get mixed up and some people can see colors in sound. I would like for smell to be associated with sight and work so that if it's gross you just see a color. I could smell baby diarrhea all day or change my garbage without gagging. Seeing color with sound would be awesome but in the case of the most recent Grammy Awards it would all have been something akin to feces. I don't want to have to see unnecessary feces. That's like asking to see plumber's crack everywhere you go. Hmmm...I'm rethinking Synesthesia.

To stay in fashion with the incoherence you've just experienced. Cut scene and roll credits to this...well either work really. See you next time.