Since I lack any real ability to play instruments, sing, keep a beat or write emotionally deep lyrics I figured that a punk band would be the way to go. I probably wouldn't play my music any differently. Why alienate the brain dead legions of magic marker sniffing punkers that already love three chords and songs
of jilted punk love and who, most of which, will end up dead in the backseat of a car buried in a pile of paint cans and Flipsides.
Even metalheads are turning to punk rock. These legions of hair spray and spandex Eddie wannabes have been lost ever since the hay days of Motley Crue. They have nowhere to turn. Grunge has that heavy shake your brain crunch, but all the songs are about overdosing and watching your life and your friends go to complete shit. Sub par for the Metalloid. No songs about drinking beer and puking at the school dance. No songs about looking up your teachers dress and fucking junior high chicks. Grunge is just too damn deep for the average Metalhead. Punk at least has
that child like lyrical quality that's easy to understand while you're cruising the local lake, drinking Coors Lite and smoking your dad's cigarettes.
Yep, if I was in a punk band I guess I would actually change some of the lyrics slightly to pull in some off the headbanger crowd, but why bother. With the continual loss of real metal and the continual growth of both punk and grunge I think the troops of no-thinkers will come to punk. For simplicity above all. So here's my punk song. Rock on blokes!
It's handily titled: PUNK ASS FUCK (and is to be sung really fast if you try this at home)
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
Goes to all the cool shows
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
Never blows his nose
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
Likes to steal his mom's money
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
Way to punk for Mudhoney
He can't get laid
Never stayed at job long enough to get paid
He's just the punk ass fuck
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
Huffs fumes in the garage
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
Born in the back of a dodge
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
Slams every night
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
To much of a puss to fight
He can't get laid
Destroys everything his parents made
He's just the punk ass fuck
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
He's nobody's fool
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
Flunked out of middle school
To punk to drive
It's a wonder he's alive
He's the uber punk
Yeah yeah yeah punk 'n ' roll forever(mini-punk solo)
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
Steals cds from the mall
Punk ass fuck punk ass fuck
He's only five feet tall
To short to get laid
He'll never have it made
He's just the motherfuckin' punk ass fuck
This song can be yours on a limited edition blue vinyl split with former President Clinton's super saxy project called Hillary's Big Ole Balls. They are doing a special love song titled "Monica sucked a Quarter through my ass". It ought to be one hot seller. And it's available to even the average citizen. Are you man enough tater? Sign up now! Don't be the only square buttnut on your block. Everybody's shootin' up and fucking like rabid monkeys in the streets to this sweet new groove.
Call now and one of our "Phone Specialists" will process your order post haste.
Dial now and receive The Terd Tweaker 2000. Specifically designed to reach those hard to get problem areas. Never has the removal of reverse dingleberies been so easy and efficient since Hasbro's Anal Axe.
Don't forget to order a vat of Tingle Wax. There's nothing more unpleasant than going on a dry run with the Tweaker 2000. That inner pink tender butt flesh can tear like a piece of plastic without the soothing power of Tingle Wax. Mmmmmm Tingle Wax.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Friday, August 1, 2008
It's Friday! (a repost)
Happy Friday or Day of the Fries.
Named as such to honor Finnius French, The Lord of the Fries.
Who would set his enemies decapitated heads upon skewers, stuff the ears and mouth with potatoes and the nose with potato slivers once a week.
The starving town peasants would sometimes sneak up at night and remove the slivers for their weekly dinner, which would have to be heavily salted to remove that tangy decaying head taste.
Upon being asked what they were doing that evening, each would say:
"Going to get some of French's Fries."
Hence our love today of heavily salted potato slivers adoringly called "French Fries"
And ketchup was later added to give a realistic "freshly removed from a bloody head" look.
Named as such to honor Finnius French, The Lord of the Fries.
Who would set his enemies decapitated heads upon skewers, stuff the ears and mouth with potatoes and the nose with potato slivers once a week.
The starving town peasants would sometimes sneak up at night and remove the slivers for their weekly dinner, which would have to be heavily salted to remove that tangy decaying head taste.
Upon being asked what they were doing that evening, each would say:
"Going to get some of French's Fries."
Hence our love today of heavily salted potato slivers adoringly called "French Fries"
And ketchup was later added to give a realistic "freshly removed from a bloody head" look.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Zen Related Fury...
I was trying to relax with a round or two of Cell Phone Scrabble and got to a point where it would not allow me to enter the word zen as it was not available in its dictionary.
And this just moments after Raj had been used by the computer player.
With that bit of maddening silliness and my ongoing dating site futility I had to set in front of my Buddha mini zen based rock garden and mediate my frustrations away with my daily chubby figurine prayers of "Why can't I find a woman or a scrabble game that doesn't cheat O' wise little wooden fatman?"
I'm now going to head outside and finish up my weekly throwing of the raw biscuit dough at slow driving passerby.
And this just moments after Raj had been used by the computer player.
With that bit of maddening silliness and my ongoing dating site futility I had to set in front of my Buddha mini zen based rock garden and mediate my frustrations away with my daily chubby figurine prayers of "Why can't I find a woman or a scrabble game that doesn't cheat O' wise little wooden fatman?"
I'm now going to head outside and finish up my weekly throwing of the raw biscuit dough at slow driving passerby.
Duchovny Fans Shake with Frustration...
While waiting for a tape to rewind I was just watching today's episode of Live with Regis and Nuttier than a bag of nut filled nuts former blonde soap star and they were featuring the daily wheel trivia question which is answered by a call in viewer (yes #1 I know enough about this daily "talk" show to know exactly what was about to happen and yes #2 I still use VHS tapes.)
Anyway, the oh-so-easy question was what is David Duchovny's first name of his X-files Mulder character.
After the clock ticked down to 10 seconds "I was screaming Fox, woman Fox damnit!!" directly at the television. As if I was trying to send gameshow like vocal and mental thoughts of the correct answer via TV waves to her location.
It may have been the weakened state of cranial activity on her part that the answer did not reach her in time...or maybe my own college-fried low firing synapses could be the culprit...or even more likely that continually hollering at a TV has absolutely zero affect to what happens or many TV show type womenfolk would have lost their clothing as I've loudly wished and stubbornly hoping Sherise's baby daddy on (insert daytime talk show here) would've ponied up after the DNA tests.
Anyway, while typing this I caught some of the rest of the show and realize that Amber Tamblyn is friggin' super sarcastic and hilarious while Akon the guest musician pretty much blows.
Ooops, Price is Right is firing up. I must now leave and see how much weight Drew gained/lost over the weekend and see if he finally says anything nearly as funny as any given line from his former show and how many times I can yell the correct prices at the deer-in-headlights dazed contestants.
Anyway, the oh-so-easy question was what is David Duchovny's first name of his X-files Mulder character.
After the clock ticked down to 10 seconds "I was screaming Fox, woman Fox damnit!!" directly at the television. As if I was trying to send gameshow like vocal and mental thoughts of the correct answer via TV waves to her location.
It may have been the weakened state of cranial activity on her part that the answer did not reach her in time...or maybe my own college-fried low firing synapses could be the culprit...or even more likely that continually hollering at a TV has absolutely zero affect to what happens or many TV show type womenfolk would have lost their clothing as I've loudly wished and stubbornly hoping Sherise's baby daddy on (insert daytime talk show here) would've ponied up after the DNA tests.
Anyway, while typing this I caught some of the rest of the show and realize that Amber Tamblyn is friggin' super sarcastic and hilarious while Akon the guest musician pretty much blows.
Ooops, Price is Right is firing up. I must now leave and see how much weight Drew gained/lost over the weekend and see if he finally says anything nearly as funny as any given line from his former show and how many times I can yell the correct prices at the deer-in-headlights dazed contestants.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Shopping Around...
So, I had to go out of town earlier today for a blind date and made the best of it by not only watching the new Batman movie on that thar big screen and eating Thai food, but I hit a garage sale and book store going out of business in same town and Hastings on the way back home. Many many bargains made for a happy boy. As some books will possibly be resold for a handy profit on that silly eBay thing.
First stop was a garage sale. I picked up these two paperbacks for a dime each. The Sara Douglass one I've always wanted to read and the Brian Jacques is from the Redwall series that I have 8 other volumes of but have not yet read any of them. And the DVD movies were a mere seventy-five cents each. I had borrowed The Davinci Code once, but had to give it back before I was able to finish watching it. And I've always seen Mirror Mask in the store, but only until this way cool type girly girl mentioned she liked it in an email did I think about getting it. And good thing I waited as it was way cheap. Just watched it by the way and she was dead on. What a cool flick!
Garage sale part two...three 1972 first edition hardback and in mint condition Richard Scarry books that were a quarter each. Always loved Mr. Scarry (I also snagged a The Devil Wears Prada CD audiobook box set for one dollar...but more on that later...)
From a bookstore that was going out of business I picked up the following gems. A limited edition boxset of five first edition Doonesbury books from 1971-1974 for only one dollar. Some of these kinds of boxed book sets can be hard to find.
bookstore continued...four comics for a nickel each. Tall Tails featuring tigers and other animals in fantasy medieval settings. I had never read this one. The other three I have comics from their series, but have not actually read these particular ones. The Midnite Skulker is a superhero based comic with a mallard type Batman. And the remaining two are Hamster Vice. Rodent detectives , but I'm sure you already knew that...
more bookstore continued...A pair of first edition Elfquest books only a quarter apiece. And one of the volumes had a surprise that I did not catch until getting home...
The surprise?? An official autograph in the inner page from co-author, Sci-fi/Fantasy writing legend and Oklahoma resident Mercedes Lackey! Already verified!!!
And my final shopping trip: Hastings. I arrived back into town and decided to see what kind of trade-in value I might gain from the afore mentioned Prada CD audio set. As when selling/trading stuff at Hastings they often increase the value of what you bring in when you opt for store credit instead of cold hard moolah. The audio book brought me around nine in store credit and it just happens they had a cart full of decently new movies as part of a Saturday sale special. All movies were $1.99 and if you bought two you got a third for one penny. So I grabbed the following six titles: The Hoax, Shoot 'Em Up, Talk To Me, Hot Rod, Mr. Woodcock and Balls of Fury. The last being the only one I had previously seen. I got it just to even out my picks. Can't beat six movies for barely over eight dollerydoos!
So, to summarize: Twelve books, four comics and eight movies for a grand total of...Five dollars and fifteen cents. The Hastings movies do not figure in as their cost was in credit taken from an item that cost a wee little dollar.
This made up for a ho-hum blind date by a mile.
I still wish I didn't have to attempt dating, but the thought of being eternally lonely keeps me trying.
First stop was a garage sale. I picked up these two paperbacks for a dime each. The Sara Douglass one I've always wanted to read and the Brian Jacques is from the Redwall series that I have 8 other volumes of but have not yet read any of them. And the DVD movies were a mere seventy-five cents each. I had borrowed The Davinci Code once, but had to give it back before I was able to finish watching it. And I've always seen Mirror Mask in the store, but only until this way cool type girly girl mentioned she liked it in an email did I think about getting it. And good thing I waited as it was way cheap. Just watched it by the way and she was dead on. What a cool flick!
Garage sale part two...three 1972 first edition hardback and in mint condition Richard Scarry books that were a quarter each. Always loved Mr. Scarry (I also snagged a The Devil Wears Prada CD audiobook box set for one dollar...but more on that later...)
From a bookstore that was going out of business I picked up the following gems. A limited edition boxset of five first edition Doonesbury books from 1971-1974 for only one dollar. Some of these kinds of boxed book sets can be hard to find.
bookstore continued...four comics for a nickel each. Tall Tails featuring tigers and other animals in fantasy medieval settings. I had never read this one. The other three I have comics from their series, but have not actually read these particular ones. The Midnite Skulker is a superhero based comic with a mallard type Batman. And the remaining two are Hamster Vice. Rodent detectives , but I'm sure you already knew that...
more bookstore continued...A pair of first edition Elfquest books only a quarter apiece. And one of the volumes had a surprise that I did not catch until getting home...
The surprise?? An official autograph in the inner page from co-author, Sci-fi/Fantasy writing legend and Oklahoma resident Mercedes Lackey! Already verified!!!
And my final shopping trip: Hastings. I arrived back into town and decided to see what kind of trade-in value I might gain from the afore mentioned Prada CD audio set. As when selling/trading stuff at Hastings they often increase the value of what you bring in when you opt for store credit instead of cold hard moolah. The audio book brought me around nine in store credit and it just happens they had a cart full of decently new movies as part of a Saturday sale special. All movies were $1.99 and if you bought two you got a third for one penny. So I grabbed the following six titles: The Hoax, Shoot 'Em Up, Talk To Me, Hot Rod, Mr. Woodcock and Balls of Fury. The last being the only one I had previously seen. I got it just to even out my picks. Can't beat six movies for barely over eight dollerydoos!
So, to summarize: Twelve books, four comics and eight movies for a grand total of...Five dollars and fifteen cents. The Hastings movies do not figure in as their cost was in credit taken from an item that cost a wee little dollar.
This made up for a ho-hum blind date by a mile.
I still wish I didn't have to attempt dating, but the thought of being eternally lonely keeps me trying.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Mr. Empty Pants (or jackass without jockeys)
A young man, named Mr. Shore, had returned from a long journey and had gone back to work after taking his clothing to the Foo-Chu Laundry. He had purchased many things on his trip including a little creativity for himself, because it was always something he lacked. He remembered that he had left the creativity in his pants that were at the laundry, and to his further dismay, he had left his pride, spirit, and will to live in the same pants. Before Mr. Shore could retrieve them, the pants were given over to man from a tiny Middle Eastern province, who had no ability to feed his village. He sorely needed the pants for a delicacy of his land called Slack Stew. A healthy pair of slacks stewed correctly could feed his people for months, he decided to sell the pride for passage on a small shrimp boat, which left him on a small island half way to his destination after the Captain realized the pride was empty. The man waited for two long weeks before another boat came along. He bargained with the crew and gave them the spirit for a small rowboat. It took him a month to reach the mainland and upon arriving he was met by the police and the Captain of the ship he had gotten the rowboat from. The Captain had the man arrested because the spirit he had given him was crushed. The man spent one year in jail and lost the will to live, which was pretty much already spent anyway. When the man returned to the village he was left with a worn 'n' torn pair of slacks with just a little creativity remaining. So to get by without money or food the villagers used what remained of the creativity for a food shortage solution. With the creativity mostly spent they took the tattered pants, a bottle of poison and mixed a village size heapin' helpin' o' Slack Stew. The villagers all died, permanently solving the food crisis. The pants were identified by the belt loop records and what was left was shipped backed to the rightful owner, Mr. Pauly "Empty Pants" Shore, who never missed the things he lost as he never used them much anyway.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
To Ponder and Such...
It's funny how your life, be it the real bits such as dating (the oh so sad attempts of) or the falsified reality bits such as online gaming and blogging, can be utterly affected by other events.
And like an alcoholic passing a bar on his daily routines I've struggled internally with the need to be lost in the throes of blogging when I stroll past my computer.
The reading, writing and commenting on, I've come to find out, had developed into simple pleasures that seemed lost and out of reach.
Partly due to those real life events, but also when I do blog lurk I like to be able to have the time in place to fully read and think on what I read and maybe even talk about it in some way.
I really need to push past this and probably will in the near and far future and just log on and read or write in snippets whenever I have a second here and a minute there.
Blahbitty, blah, blah-la-laa-la...
I guess the point I'm trying to make is that like an estranged family that you suddenly miss and don't seem to have the time to be around, I've come to dearly miss this second or third family of blog types I've had the fortune to be a minute part of all their daily things and random thoughts.
Huh, I just realized that's the most open I've ever been here...and I also didn't make a rude comment or conjure any naughty mental pictures...that was both easy and supremely difficult.
And like an alcoholic passing a bar on his daily routines I've struggled internally with the need to be lost in the throes of blogging when I stroll past my computer.
The reading, writing and commenting on, I've come to find out, had developed into simple pleasures that seemed lost and out of reach.
Partly due to those real life events, but also when I do blog lurk I like to be able to have the time in place to fully read and think on what I read and maybe even talk about it in some way.
I really need to push past this and probably will in the near and far future and just log on and read or write in snippets whenever I have a second here and a minute there.
Blahbitty, blah, blah-la-laa-la...
I guess the point I'm trying to make is that like an estranged family that you suddenly miss and don't seem to have the time to be around, I've come to dearly miss this second or third family of blog types I've had the fortune to be a minute part of all their daily things and random thoughts.
Huh, I just realized that's the most open I've ever been here...and I also didn't make a rude comment or conjure any naughty mental pictures...that was both easy and supremely difficult.
Friday, June 13, 2008
World War III Veterans Against The War
Just so I'm not accused of jumping on any bandwagon at a later date, I'm throwing my hat in the ring now/first as being a shaken survivor of and against one of the worst wars of the next fifty years.
Whether I was drafted, recruited with the promise of bags of shiny dangly bits or just ether-in-a-hanky press ganged; I'm sure I will barely make it through any engagements and will make life as difficult as possible for all involved in the military machine as well.
I'm not even sure what it will be for or about...coconuts in the tropics or bananas in Brazil, I damn well wont like or support it while I'm there and especially after it's over.
Let's see, unless it is actually for bananas...uh, well of course that all depends on if the Brazilian potassium-filled-fruit hoarding regime recruits soldiers directly from their soccer teams.
No way am I fighting a bunch of coffee bean jacked up can-kick-the-twig-and-berries-to-the-moon soldiers with legs the size of tree trunks...no damn way.
Whether I was drafted, recruited with the promise of bags of shiny dangly bits or just ether-in-a-hanky press ganged; I'm sure I will barely make it through any engagements and will make life as difficult as possible for all involved in the military machine as well.
I'm not even sure what it will be for or about...coconuts in the tropics or bananas in Brazil, I damn well wont like or support it while I'm there and especially after it's over.
Let's see, unless it is actually for bananas...uh, well of course that all depends on if the Brazilian potassium-filled-fruit hoarding regime recruits soldiers directly from their soccer teams.
No way am I fighting a bunch of coffee bean jacked up can-kick-the-twig-and-berries-to-the-moon soldiers with legs the size of tree trunks...no damn way.
Hokie Smokes!
Almost two weeks since I've been aboard this ship of fools!
Time sure flies when you're hepped up on pills...especially when none of them are your own prescriptions...
I have actually been crazily busy assisting my father in the care of my mother who after having knee replacement surgery suffered a minor stroke...which sure put a hold on us playing our favorite game of What's That Burning Smell.
All in all, she is much improved and I'm getting drunk whilst not on momma guard duty detail.
Time sure flies when you're hepped up on pills...especially when none of them are your own prescriptions...
I have actually been crazily busy assisting my father in the care of my mother who after having knee replacement surgery suffered a minor stroke...which sure put a hold on us playing our favorite game of What's That Burning Smell.
All in all, she is much improved and I'm getting drunk whilst not on momma guard duty detail.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Stifka This...
Since I've not been here for several days, I'm gonna Jayne this sucker and add a picture...
With a few flowers, a flower laced lamp and the light bulbed torture of one Stifka figure by another...can't keep my eye on those buggers all the time...
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
P&J Tips
For efficient Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich making, take two pieces of bread.
Add your favorite jam or jelly to one piece and then your favorite peanut butter to the other piece.
Put the two pieces of bread together and you've got yourself a sandwich partner.
Enjoy!
In yer face Sparkle!
Add your favorite jam or jelly to one piece and then your favorite peanut butter to the other piece.
Put the two pieces of bread together and you've got yourself a sandwich partner.
Enjoy!
In yer face Sparkle!
Monday, May 26, 2008
Office Tips
Here's ten easy steps to fast track your rise to the top of the corporate ladder.
WARNING: Not for sensitive natured types or the faint of heart.
Due to the use of such uncouth words as custard, plastic and bathroom.
10. In the next meeting fill you boxers with mayonnaise, then drop your pants
and rub your crotch on the guy's head next to you all the while screaming at
the top of your lungs "I'm fucking this dude in the ass and cumming like a buffalo."
9. Keep telling the same person that they have bad breath even if
they don't, and then punch them in the mouth.
8. Announce in a meeting that you have AIDS. After everyone gives
you the sympathy remarks... tell everyone how you're just kidding...
then tell them that they are all a bunch of queers.
7. Before a meeting, fill your mouth with custard - then during the
meeting, put one finger in the air and make like you are hocking up a
big loogie - then spit the custard into a clear glass and hand it
to the person next to you and say "beat that!".
6. Inform a male coworker that he "wouldn't make a good hooker", then
piss in his coffee and tell him he needs a good "ass fucking".
5. Always walk around with a big smile and keep one hand down the front
of your pants, moaning out loud every few seconds.
4. Answer every question asked of you with "fuck if I know!" then call
the person an ethnic slur that doesn't even match their race.
3. Run down the hall with your dick out while urinating all over and yell,
"It won't stop! God help me! It won't stop!" Then when it stops...look down
and say... "Oh!"
2. Ask to borrow someone's pen - bring it to the bathroom - stick it in your
butt - return it and tell the person to smell it. When they tell you that
it smells bad, say, "It should! I had it in my butt!"
1. Shit on the floor in your office and when someone comes in and sees it,
tell them it's the fake plastic kind - when they try to pick it up, and
realize that their hand is full of shit, laugh and point at them.
Raises, dinner invites and kudos galore will follow if you stick with this easy plan.
WARNING: Not for sensitive natured types or the faint of heart.
Due to the use of such uncouth words as custard, plastic and bathroom.
10. In the next meeting fill you boxers with mayonnaise, then drop your pants
and rub your crotch on the guy's head next to you all the while screaming at
the top of your lungs "I'm fucking this dude in the ass and cumming like a buffalo."
9. Keep telling the same person that they have bad breath even if
they don't, and then punch them in the mouth.
8. Announce in a meeting that you have AIDS. After everyone gives
you the sympathy remarks... tell everyone how you're just kidding...
then tell them that they are all a bunch of queers.
7. Before a meeting, fill your mouth with custard - then during the
meeting, put one finger in the air and make like you are hocking up a
big loogie - then spit the custard into a clear glass and hand it
to the person next to you and say "beat that!".
6. Inform a male coworker that he "wouldn't make a good hooker", then
piss in his coffee and tell him he needs a good "ass fucking".
5. Always walk around with a big smile and keep one hand down the front
of your pants, moaning out loud every few seconds.
4. Answer every question asked of you with "fuck if I know!" then call
the person an ethnic slur that doesn't even match their race.
3. Run down the hall with your dick out while urinating all over and yell,
"It won't stop! God help me! It won't stop!" Then when it stops...look down
and say... "Oh!"
2. Ask to borrow someone's pen - bring it to the bathroom - stick it in your
butt - return it and tell the person to smell it. When they tell you that
it smells bad, say, "It should! I had it in my butt!"
1. Shit on the floor in your office and when someone comes in and sees it,
tell them it's the fake plastic kind - when they try to pick it up, and
realize that their hand is full of shit, laugh and point at them.
Raises, dinner invites and kudos galore will follow if you stick with this easy plan.
Friday, May 23, 2008
No Respect For Toby
(Ishat wasn't around, so I figured I would write a blog. Thus continues the circle of life or Simba save me or whatever.)
I'm sure you've heard the saying or caught the bumper stickers stating "Every time you see a rainbow God is having gay sex."
Which first off, that's got to be awesome for whatever sassy Sammy he's got pinned in a pay toilet or assmashed in a dark alley. I mean think of it, you're young, gay and having a normal Thursday by taking it in the tookus for a smoothie when WHAMMY you're getting it like you could never have ever wished or dreamed. You can't even finish that banana coconut drink delight as usual cause the bathroom's filled with a blinding golden light, it feels like an industrial cloud covered jackhammer is splitting your rectum. Of course a God type dude is going to have some kind of massive, but yet tender johnson. And those 7-9 glorious hours later when he decides to deliver his true heavenly message, techno accompanied electronic angels in leather appear and sing while molten gold explodes from your eyes and ears and before your body collapses into an unidentifiable heap you see a rainbow. Oh joy.
Okay, so the fellas get all that bliss and that rainbow thing cause that God guy likes the meat conventions, so what in the hell did the Virgin Mary see when she got with child? God's straight little brother Toby that's who. D&D geek, Babylon 2 fan and forever living in their dad Mongo's basement, Toby was destined to be a virgin for life. So when Mongo wanted a grandson to deal with those uppity Romans and smartass Jews he ordered God to, in his own words "Let loose the family steeds." Of course Mongo had no idea his oldest had been smoking the pole since the last of the dinosaurs. In steps Toby.
Toby actually ended up picking the wrong gal. Instead of forcing himself upon a kingly woman of his father's choosing he picked a barmaid from the local tavern called The Immaculate Conception. This place of choosing led to much scholarly confusion down the road. Toby would've had actually come through this unscathed and maybe even ready for more if not for the barmaids insistence that her husband get to watch and then join in...fifteen times. This part was the most interested his brother became about the entire evening or Toby's life for that matter. And blah blah blah the two moved around yada yada yada manger afterbirth so on so on strangers and animals drunkenly watching and so forth.
So Jesus Christ, as he was named, the son of Toby, nephew of God, Grandson of Mongo had to do some carpentry, public speaking, and healing of the sick before being killed or misplaced, it's all kinda sketchy. Just due to a couple of lame brothers.
Instead of the future Mongo had ordained for him by becoming a great Emperor of the world and cleansing Europe of the white menace, of course all after his 100 years of blood mother fuck ass terror with bestial mutilation and rainbow eradication.
After failing completely both Toby and Mongo become depressed and despondent. God being a turd tapping jackass and not wanting to stop listened to his dog groomer Serge and had them relocated to another planet and later trapped them there. He named it Uranus and then had it surrounded with multi-colored pleasure rings or rectal rainbows as Serge joked before God cast him out and renamed him Lucifer. That's where the gay legends come from of looking and seeing the men trapped in Uranus.
Or at least I think so. I read all this on a placemat and couple of matchbooks at a Shoneys. The guy coming out of the bathroom with mayo on his chin and forehead said it was all true, so good enough for me.
PS - Their mayo is awfully salty...
I'm sure you've heard the saying or caught the bumper stickers stating "Every time you see a rainbow God is having gay sex."
Which first off, that's got to be awesome for whatever sassy Sammy he's got pinned in a pay toilet or assmashed in a dark alley. I mean think of it, you're young, gay and having a normal Thursday by taking it in the tookus for a smoothie when WHAMMY you're getting it like you could never have ever wished or dreamed. You can't even finish that banana coconut drink delight as usual cause the bathroom's filled with a blinding golden light, it feels like an industrial cloud covered jackhammer is splitting your rectum. Of course a God type dude is going to have some kind of massive, but yet tender johnson. And those 7-9 glorious hours later when he decides to deliver his true heavenly message, techno accompanied electronic angels in leather appear and sing while molten gold explodes from your eyes and ears and before your body collapses into an unidentifiable heap you see a rainbow. Oh joy.
Okay, so the fellas get all that bliss and that rainbow thing cause that God guy likes the meat conventions, so what in the hell did the Virgin Mary see when she got with child? God's straight little brother Toby that's who. D&D geek, Babylon 2 fan and forever living in their dad Mongo's basement, Toby was destined to be a virgin for life. So when Mongo wanted a grandson to deal with those uppity Romans and smartass Jews he ordered God to, in his own words "Let loose the family steeds." Of course Mongo had no idea his oldest had been smoking the pole since the last of the dinosaurs. In steps Toby.
Toby actually ended up picking the wrong gal. Instead of forcing himself upon a kingly woman of his father's choosing he picked a barmaid from the local tavern called The Immaculate Conception. This place of choosing led to much scholarly confusion down the road. Toby would've had actually come through this unscathed and maybe even ready for more if not for the barmaids insistence that her husband get to watch and then join in...fifteen times. This part was the most interested his brother became about the entire evening or Toby's life for that matter. And blah blah blah the two moved around yada yada yada manger afterbirth so on so on strangers and animals drunkenly watching and so forth.
So Jesus Christ, as he was named, the son of Toby, nephew of God, Grandson of Mongo had to do some carpentry, public speaking, and healing of the sick before being killed or misplaced, it's all kinda sketchy. Just due to a couple of lame brothers.
Instead of the future Mongo had ordained for him by becoming a great Emperor of the world and cleansing Europe of the white menace, of course all after his 100 years of blood mother fuck ass terror with bestial mutilation and rainbow eradication.
After failing completely both Toby and Mongo become depressed and despondent. God being a turd tapping jackass and not wanting to stop listened to his dog groomer Serge and had them relocated to another planet and later trapped them there. He named it Uranus and then had it surrounded with multi-colored pleasure rings or rectal rainbows as Serge joked before God cast him out and renamed him Lucifer. That's where the gay legends come from of looking and seeing the men trapped in Uranus.
Or at least I think so. I read all this on a placemat and couple of matchbooks at a Shoneys. The guy coming out of the bathroom with mayo on his chin and forehead said it was all true, so good enough for me.
PS - Their mayo is awfully salty...
My New Movie Project
"There's Something About The 40-Year Old Virgin Mary"
May not play so well in the south...
Advance pre-production tickets are only 1.5 million...give or take a hundred thousand, but it does come with free popcorn (real butter is soooo extra.)
May not play so well in the south...
Advance pre-production tickets are only 1.5 million...give or take a hundred thousand, but it does come with free popcorn (real butter is soooo extra.)
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Blog Stumbling.
Every so often I like to pop that next blog link above and randomly experience another slice of life.
This time I got a German one, Japanese, Portuguese, Vietnamese and Norwegian all in a singular could not read to save my life row.
But yet I still enjoyed gazing at the unintelligible (to me) wonder of foreign blogging.
There were at least still pictures for my simple mind to follow and grasp the idea of the writing somewhat.
All in all another highly enjoyable, yet English free, excursion into the random lovable world of the blog beast.
I also had to come over hear and write something in my own arena so Sparkle will rethink her plans for releasing the awesome might of the plastic dinosaur horde upon my aimless comment leaving carcass.
This time I got a German one, Japanese, Portuguese, Vietnamese and Norwegian all in a singular could not read to save my life row.
But yet I still enjoyed gazing at the unintelligible (to me) wonder of foreign blogging.
There were at least still pictures for my simple mind to follow and grasp the idea of the writing somewhat.
All in all another highly enjoyable, yet English free, excursion into the random lovable world of the blog beast.
I also had to come over hear and write something in my own arena so Sparkle will rethink her plans for releasing the awesome might of the plastic dinosaur horde upon my aimless comment leaving carcass.
Hand Over Fist
Can't quite remember what banal illegality item from TV I had heard set this in motion earlier...
Wait till they make masturbation illegal for men by deeming it a form of early abortion.
If they thought they had trouble enforcing laws already on the books, try it with that one.
They would have cameras put everywhere or even install scrotum chips, cause all a fella really needs is a napkin and quite corner or an empty Snapple jar while driving down the highway, around the neighborhood or in any friend's driveway.
You could imagine the chip just ticketing you like when you run or speed through an intersection and after the camera snaps a shot of it you get a speeding ticket in the mail.
'Cept this one would read like an errands list.
"You are formally charged with reckless endangerment and spermicide for the month of June at the following locations:"
Stoplight of 5th and main
Local Park
Stoplight of 5th and main
Sears parking lot
Stoplight of 5th and main
Home bathroom (shower stall)
Stoplight of 5th and main
Bosses office
Stoplight of 5th and main
And you wouldn't even be able to defend yourself by adding that your boss is hot, the shower is the shower and there just happens to be a friggin' Victoria's Secret billboard at 4th and main.
Wait till they make masturbation illegal for men by deeming it a form of early abortion.
If they thought they had trouble enforcing laws already on the books, try it with that one.
They would have cameras put everywhere or even install scrotum chips, cause all a fella really needs is a napkin and quite corner or an empty Snapple jar while driving down the highway, around the neighborhood or in any friend's driveway.
You could imagine the chip just ticketing you like when you run or speed through an intersection and after the camera snaps a shot of it you get a speeding ticket in the mail.
'Cept this one would read like an errands list.
"You are formally charged with reckless endangerment and spermicide for the month of June at the following locations:"
Stoplight of 5th and main
Local Park
Stoplight of 5th and main
Sears parking lot
Stoplight of 5th and main
Home bathroom (shower stall)
Stoplight of 5th and main
Bosses office
Stoplight of 5th and main
And you wouldn't even be able to defend yourself by adding that your boss is hot, the shower is the shower and there just happens to be a friggin' Victoria's Secret billboard at 4th and main.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Dolphin With Legs (yeah, but can he swim any faster?)
"Japanese Researchers Find Dolphin With 'Remains of Legs'"
TOKYO — Japanese researchers said Sunday that a bottlenose dolphin captured last month has an extra set of fins that could be the remains of back legs, a discovery that may provide further evidence that ocean-dwelling mammals once lived on land.
Fishermen captured the four-finned dolphin off the coast of Wakayama prefecture in western Japan on Oct. 28, and alerted the nearby Taiji Whaling Museum, according to museum director Katsuki Hayashi.
Fossil remains show dolphins and whales were four-footed land animals about 50 million years ago and share common ancestors with hippopotamuses and deer. Scientists believe they later transitioned to an aquatic lifestyle and their hind limbs disappeared.
Though odd-shaped protrusions have been found near the tails of dolphins and whales captured in the past, researchers say this was the first time one had been found with well-developed, symmetrical fins, Hayashi said.
"I believe the fins may be remains from the time when dolphins' ancient ancestors lived on land ... this is an unprecedented discovery," Seiji Osumi, an adviser at Tokyo's Institute of Cetacean Research, said at a news conference televised Sunday.
The second set of fins — much smaller than the dolphin's front fins — are about the size of human hands and protrude from near the tail on the dolphin's underside.
The dolphin measures 8.92 feet and is about five years old, according to the museum.
A freak mutation may have caused the ancient trait to reassert itself, Osumi said. The dolphin will be kept at the Taiji museum to undergo X-ray and DNA tests, according to Hayashi.
(end article)
-----------------------------
See what can happen with so many years of easing the hunt off with that entire tuna in a can "Dolphin free" bullshit dogma we've had to put up with?
Man oh man, I can still recall the good old days when a can of Chunky Starkist could be purchased with extra Dorsal bits seared in Blowhole Gravy or straight up Tuna with Fullsize Dolphin Brains in spring water for the healthier among us of course. I mean, dolphin brains in oil is just so gross. Whatever sicko mixed that one is a Tuna, globby bits and toast eating hating bastard. You got to have the spring water to let that fatass brain breathe correctly and bond with the stank molecules from the tuna. I mean its just that simple.
The next step in the Evo-ladder will be baby seals with Popeye like arms able to break a skull busting hunk of wood to splinters or a seaman's leg in two with a stomach curdling crunch. Even snag the front tusks right out of a Walruses mouth in one hand while ripping off the entire mustache at the roots in the other with one blood spurting quick yank. Then we'll be stuck giving money to some new charity for Walrus falsies and bottomless government grants for lip Rogaine research.
Might be wishful thinking or just bitterness about those regulations not allowing me to wear a baby seal pelt jogging suit or decorate my car with dolphin fins. I swear it would only be out of respect for both.
I mean old blowhole leggy with the X-rays and DNA tests, pshaw. That dude went straight to a freezer stocked with ten kinds of dipping sauce. Doc Hayashi and the boys are like all of us old school tuna lovers and dying to see just how awesome dolphin leg and second set fins tastes with tartar or horseradish and wassabi. Problem is his bunch get to sample the heavenly snack of the century and we get that new here's a fuck off to you Porpofu. The tofu based treat with second fiddle porpoise oils and a lousy 1.5 percent dolphin tongue added per volume. The rectum of our brainy buoyant buffet buddies. I mean the actual dolphin rectum would be a sushi item. The tongue? In comparison that's like adding Bull penis, cow tail and the farmers boot to your best steak, but at a much higher 67 percent per volume. Seriously, it's that damn bad.
If an entire crate of fresh uncut Dolphin tongue fell off the delivery truck after being in a double wreck with a catnip van and a milk truck and got soaked in both before bursting open in front of an almost dead starving cat he would shit on each piece until his bowels finally gave out and then wonder off to die in a deep ditch to get away from that god awful worse than a mound of soiled stomach sick baby diapers tongue stench. I guess a dolphins diet must consist of raw sewage, old boots, hot dogs, bird beaks, lawn mower batteries and any given combination of fifteen to twenty rancid sauces, salad dressing, cottage cheese and milkshakes. Where all the nastiest freaky essences of every single one resides only in that fucking tongue. Who's using their big brain now huh? Flipper want a compost smoothie? Yeah you do jackass.
TOKYO — Japanese researchers said Sunday that a bottlenose dolphin captured last month has an extra set of fins that could be the remains of back legs, a discovery that may provide further evidence that ocean-dwelling mammals once lived on land.
Fishermen captured the four-finned dolphin off the coast of Wakayama prefecture in western Japan on Oct. 28, and alerted the nearby Taiji Whaling Museum, according to museum director Katsuki Hayashi.
Fossil remains show dolphins and whales were four-footed land animals about 50 million years ago and share common ancestors with hippopotamuses and deer. Scientists believe they later transitioned to an aquatic lifestyle and their hind limbs disappeared.
Though odd-shaped protrusions have been found near the tails of dolphins and whales captured in the past, researchers say this was the first time one had been found with well-developed, symmetrical fins, Hayashi said.
"I believe the fins may be remains from the time when dolphins' ancient ancestors lived on land ... this is an unprecedented discovery," Seiji Osumi, an adviser at Tokyo's Institute of Cetacean Research, said at a news conference televised Sunday.
The second set of fins — much smaller than the dolphin's front fins — are about the size of human hands and protrude from near the tail on the dolphin's underside.
The dolphin measures 8.92 feet and is about five years old, according to the museum.
A freak mutation may have caused the ancient trait to reassert itself, Osumi said. The dolphin will be kept at the Taiji museum to undergo X-ray and DNA tests, according to Hayashi.
(end article)
-----------------------------
See what can happen with so many years of easing the hunt off with that entire tuna in a can "Dolphin free" bullshit dogma we've had to put up with?
Man oh man, I can still recall the good old days when a can of Chunky Starkist could be purchased with extra Dorsal bits seared in Blowhole Gravy or straight up Tuna with Fullsize Dolphin Brains in spring water for the healthier among us of course. I mean, dolphin brains in oil is just so gross. Whatever sicko mixed that one is a Tuna, globby bits and toast eating hating bastard. You got to have the spring water to let that fatass brain breathe correctly and bond with the stank molecules from the tuna. I mean its just that simple.
The next step in the Evo-ladder will be baby seals with Popeye like arms able to break a skull busting hunk of wood to splinters or a seaman's leg in two with a stomach curdling crunch. Even snag the front tusks right out of a Walruses mouth in one hand while ripping off the entire mustache at the roots in the other with one blood spurting quick yank. Then we'll be stuck giving money to some new charity for Walrus falsies and bottomless government grants for lip Rogaine research.
Might be wishful thinking or just bitterness about those regulations not allowing me to wear a baby seal pelt jogging suit or decorate my car with dolphin fins. I swear it would only be out of respect for both.
I mean old blowhole leggy with the X-rays and DNA tests, pshaw. That dude went straight to a freezer stocked with ten kinds of dipping sauce. Doc Hayashi and the boys are like all of us old school tuna lovers and dying to see just how awesome dolphin leg and second set fins tastes with tartar or horseradish and wassabi. Problem is his bunch get to sample the heavenly snack of the century and we get that new here's a fuck off to you Porpofu. The tofu based treat with second fiddle porpoise oils and a lousy 1.5 percent dolphin tongue added per volume. The rectum of our brainy buoyant buffet buddies. I mean the actual dolphin rectum would be a sushi item. The tongue? In comparison that's like adding Bull penis, cow tail and the farmers boot to your best steak, but at a much higher 67 percent per volume. Seriously, it's that damn bad.
If an entire crate of fresh uncut Dolphin tongue fell off the delivery truck after being in a double wreck with a catnip van and a milk truck and got soaked in both before bursting open in front of an almost dead starving cat he would shit on each piece until his bowels finally gave out and then wonder off to die in a deep ditch to get away from that god awful worse than a mound of soiled stomach sick baby diapers tongue stench. I guess a dolphins diet must consist of raw sewage, old boots, hot dogs, bird beaks, lawn mower batteries and any given combination of fifteen to twenty rancid sauces, salad dressing, cottage cheese and milkshakes. Where all the nastiest freaky essences of every single one resides only in that fucking tongue. Who's using their big brain now huh? Flipper want a compost smoothie? Yeah you do jackass.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
A Joke Is A joke Is A Joke
Just a mini-note to those who don't seem to realize that I am not anti-religious.
I'm really not anti-anything...except maybe anti-stupid, and that comes in so many many forms.
Basically I will make fun of an atheist just as quickly as any god fearing individual.
I just go wherever I happen to find humor in something.
So, props to you Baptists and Pagans as well.
I'm really not anti-anything...except maybe anti-stupid, and that comes in so many many forms.
Basically I will make fun of an atheist just as quickly as any god fearing individual.
I just go wherever I happen to find humor in something.
So, props to you Baptists and Pagans as well.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Driving (me insane) or Call Me (crazy)
Their is a recently new four lane highway between Perkins, The Jewel of Payne County and Stillwater, the Gateway to Perkins (see it’s kind of a reciprocal relationship.) Mostly people obey the laws and rules of the road, both legal and of thumb.
Except there seems to be a small percentage, though 25-30 percent may be recognized as a slightly larger than small group depending on the grand total of the sample, who drive in a daze.
Which had made me come to realize that the left lane is for VIPs (Vastly Ignorant People) as they must be so damn ignorant off all others they can’t even consider changing lanes even though they tend to travel ten or miles under the speed limit. The posted limit anyways, these VIP types may have weekly meetings to confirm their annoying place in the world by imposing a low speed limit on their many members a well as make sure they are performing up to quota on cell phone conversations on the road, in a drive-thru or any given place where, even though the talk they are having with an obviously angered loved one or spurned date would make the most prolific eavesdropper turn away, blush in shame and scrub his ears profusely. They are usually talking so loud that they must stupidly think they are in their own living room, porch or pay toilet (that is the wonder of a pay toilet, cause I think if you have to pay to pee you should be able to do whatever the dim-damn you want to in the confines of those hastily scrawled phone numbered walls. Pending murder, but then again even that hinges on the cost of said pay'n'poop receptacle.)
In conclusion I hate to drive along those who lack even a smidgen of common courtesy or listen to people make public spectacles of themselves when liquor is not involved or being sold two steps away in mass quantities. I would rather be the official change giver at a currency enforced porta-potty that uses a leaky low pressure garden hose instead of toilet paper for those chunky castoffs.
Except there seems to be a small percentage, though 25-30 percent may be recognized as a slightly larger than small group depending on the grand total of the sample, who drive in a daze.
Which had made me come to realize that the left lane is for VIPs (Vastly Ignorant People) as they must be so damn ignorant off all others they can’t even consider changing lanes even though they tend to travel ten or miles under the speed limit. The posted limit anyways, these VIP types may have weekly meetings to confirm their annoying place in the world by imposing a low speed limit on their many members a well as make sure they are performing up to quota on cell phone conversations on the road, in a drive-thru or any given place where, even though the talk they are having with an obviously angered loved one or spurned date would make the most prolific eavesdropper turn away, blush in shame and scrub his ears profusely. They are usually talking so loud that they must stupidly think they are in their own living room, porch or pay toilet (that is the wonder of a pay toilet, cause I think if you have to pay to pee you should be able to do whatever the dim-damn you want to in the confines of those hastily scrawled phone numbered walls. Pending murder, but then again even that hinges on the cost of said pay'n'poop receptacle.)
In conclusion I hate to drive along those who lack even a smidgen of common courtesy or listen to people make public spectacles of themselves when liquor is not involved or being sold two steps away in mass quantities. I would rather be the official change giver at a currency enforced porta-potty that uses a leaky low pressure garden hose instead of toilet paper for those chunky castoffs.
The following exchange is betwixt myself and a friend from Austin when he recently contacted me out of the blue...
----------------------------------
1) Him:
Jeff,
Where the heck you been bro?
Someone said you're not living in Austin anymore. WTF?
Let me know what's the haps guy.
Later,
Rusty
2) Me:
Rusty!! The man the myth the frosted flake!!
Haven't checked my email for quite some time until yesterday and look at what kind of sparkly gem I found...but is it a ruby or a rube?
Awesome to hear from you, especially now that I am marooned in the vast polar salt flats of Oklahoma.
It's all a whiter shade of trash and a redder shade of neck around here my friend.
Just answering back at least so you know this wasn't a dead connection...the answerer may qualify for brain dead most times, but the actual interthingy doohickey with the e-whatsit thingamabob is firing a-ok into my computation porn picture holder dilly type device.
Feel free to send a hyper cable transit mail message across the webgate anytime.
Later tater,
Jeffy
3) Him:
You are crackin me up bro. Hey where the heck ya been ya stud?! It's good
to hear from you.
What the heck are you doing in OK? Not that there's anything wrong with
that but hey, aint nuttin wrong with Austin.
4) Me:
Nuthin' at all but the crazy ass apt. rent gougers.
The now ex and I were in the middle of restructuring the main office and in a hinky middle management debacle that had Enron Mach II written all over it when some things ended up not being couple compliant.
Oh, hey I just checked a dictionary and it says that all of the above means simply a divorce.
Poopers, I knew there was like 1-2 words for it.
It's way mutual and mainly being done at this juncture so we can still keep our 20 year long friendship intact and not try to go another few more years and one or both of us do something we would later regret and have to deny or plea bargain in a court of law.
We both care a whole lot for each other and talk better now after 11 1/2 months of separation. And also a bit smarter on how we would've ruined each other in very bad ways if that silly marriage would've went on...and on...and ahhhhhhhhhh.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still way sad and broken up that there wasn't a way for us to have kept it together in any Elmers groove kind of style.
Oh and back to the gouging groove, I was going to stay there for the medical facilities in the least, but something like a 500 sq. foot efficiency apartment next to crack barrio was running $725 to $900. And on the 3rd snappin'-my-arthritic-shins damn floor.
I have a newly remodeled apt. here with a very large living room, kitchen, two 450 square foot each bedrooms, of which the master has a large walk in closet you could park a motorcycle with a sidecar.
I do have to go across the street and take my daily grasp'n'grunt in the Baptist parking lot. And if I time it just right while they run out front to clean up Satan's Sin Sticks I can sneak in the back door and take a quick lemonade leak in the holy water.
They do have a full bathroom, but who the fuck wants to shit where a Baptist has gone? Yeccchhhhh!
I actually have a shower and all the other standard up to code functioning doody and tinkee holding equipment. But I still prefer to do it the other way. And let me tell ya', you've never nature wiped yer arse until you've used the silky smooth word of God. NEVER EVER use a hymnal. Like a damn catalog made from ruck sacks, old car batteries and lemon rinds. It's been 3 months since that goof and I'm still farting out Jesus Loves Me This I Know lyrics every few days.
Well there's some serious stuff about me as well as some seriously disturbing stuff all in a happy union of verbal vomit.
Here's something you may not want, need or ever care to let anyone know was ever in your line of sight at any given second of your life.
Jeff Turner
(withheld address info)
And go ahead and pop your probably soon to be governmentally discontinued postal snail mail on over!!!
5) Him:
bro i needed to bust a gut. that's funny stuff. but now i'm sorry to hear
about the divorce thing.
well personally i think tammy wynette said it best.
now aside from all that, git yer fanny down here. don't you know it's acl
fest this weekend?
and can i get some video of you pissin in the holy water?
6) Me:
It should be on youtube any day now.
Just remember when you search use these specific words: Holy water pee-pee debacle.
Using the words pissed off Baptists brings up way too many hits and usually is just full of records and book they have burned or Methodist name calling.
----------------------------------
1) Him:
Jeff,
Where the heck you been bro?
Someone said you're not living in Austin anymore. WTF?
Let me know what's the haps guy.
Later,
Rusty
2) Me:
Rusty!! The man the myth the frosted flake!!
Haven't checked my email for quite some time until yesterday and look at what kind of sparkly gem I found...but is it a ruby or a rube?
Awesome to hear from you, especially now that I am marooned in the vast polar salt flats of Oklahoma.
It's all a whiter shade of trash and a redder shade of neck around here my friend.
Just answering back at least so you know this wasn't a dead connection...the answerer may qualify for brain dead most times, but the actual interthingy doohickey with the e-whatsit thingamabob is firing a-ok into my computation porn picture holder dilly type device.
Feel free to send a hyper cable transit mail message across the webgate anytime.
Later tater,
Jeffy
3) Him:
You are crackin me up bro. Hey where the heck ya been ya stud?! It's good
to hear from you.
What the heck are you doing in OK? Not that there's anything wrong with
that but hey, aint nuttin wrong with Austin.
4) Me:
Nuthin' at all but the crazy ass apt. rent gougers.
The now ex and I were in the middle of restructuring the main office and in a hinky middle management debacle that had Enron Mach II written all over it when some things ended up not being couple compliant.
Oh, hey I just checked a dictionary and it says that all of the above means simply a divorce.
Poopers, I knew there was like 1-2 words for it.
It's way mutual and mainly being done at this juncture so we can still keep our 20 year long friendship intact and not try to go another few more years and one or both of us do something we would later regret and have to deny or plea bargain in a court of law.
We both care a whole lot for each other and talk better now after 11 1/2 months of separation. And also a bit smarter on how we would've ruined each other in very bad ways if that silly marriage would've went on...and on...and ahhhhhhhhhh.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still way sad and broken up that there wasn't a way for us to have kept it together in any Elmers groove kind of style.
Oh and back to the gouging groove, I was going to stay there for the medical facilities in the least, but something like a 500 sq. foot efficiency apartment next to crack barrio was running $725 to $900. And on the 3rd snappin'-my-arthritic-shins damn floor.
I have a newly remodeled apt. here with a very large living room, kitchen, two 450 square foot each bedrooms, of which the master has a large walk in closet you could park a motorcycle with a sidecar.
I do have to go across the street and take my daily grasp'n'grunt in the Baptist parking lot. And if I time it just right while they run out front to clean up Satan's Sin Sticks I can sneak in the back door and take a quick lemonade leak in the holy water.
They do have a full bathroom, but who the fuck wants to shit where a Baptist has gone? Yeccchhhhh!
I actually have a shower and all the other standard up to code functioning doody and tinkee holding equipment. But I still prefer to do it the other way. And let me tell ya', you've never nature wiped yer arse until you've used the silky smooth word of God. NEVER EVER use a hymnal. Like a damn catalog made from ruck sacks, old car batteries and lemon rinds. It's been 3 months since that goof and I'm still farting out Jesus Loves Me This I Know lyrics every few days.
Well there's some serious stuff about me as well as some seriously disturbing stuff all in a happy union of verbal vomit.
Here's something you may not want, need or ever care to let anyone know was ever in your line of sight at any given second of your life.
Jeff Turner
(withheld address info)
And go ahead and pop your probably soon to be governmentally discontinued postal snail mail on over!!!
5) Him:
bro i needed to bust a gut. that's funny stuff. but now i'm sorry to hear
about the divorce thing.
well personally i think tammy wynette said it best.
now aside from all that, git yer fanny down here. don't you know it's acl
fest this weekend?
and can i get some video of you pissin in the holy water?
6) Me:
It should be on youtube any day now.
Just remember when you search use these specific words: Holy water pee-pee debacle.
Using the words pissed off Baptists brings up way too many hits and usually is just full of records and book they have burned or Methodist name calling.
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