No need to thank me, fellas.
Yeah, I said I was sorry for using the R word but, c’mon… you know that was sincere.
The truth is not Paul Pierce. The truth is, I lost my patience with that dumb ho.
Give me a break! Playing dirty? What fool in their right mind would question one of my bros like that? And she wouldn’t shut up! She just kept rambling on like an idiot!
So. Of course I didn’t mean for that word to slip out, ‘retarded,’ like she had special needs or something. If that were the case, she’d be entirely innocent but, there are reasons we don’t allow people with special needs to question us after games, right? Ha-ha-ha…
So. Why do we even allow bitches the privilege of interviewing us?! We need to go back to the good old days, when only men ventured out where they belong. When women knew their place, and stayed there, god dammit!
You know there IS the WNBA. Ha-ha-ha… yeah. I think all the female reporters who care about basketball should mosey on over there, and leave us alone! Only men understand just how hard we play. And only a man can understand another man‘s pride, so they ain’t gonna ask us any stupid questions.
Bitches need to back off! And stay out of our locker rooms too, god dammit!
How did that girl get in here?
Aww shit.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
LeBron James Speaks To Team Mates Post Game
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Trump Speaks To Republicans In New Hampshire
People of New Hampshire and the rest of the important states… like Iowa…
Nobody here from Iowa? I was told there would be. Hmm. Obviously someone needs to be fired. Well for those of you here, I want you all to listen very carefully. I’m only going to repeat this possibly one hundred times in the next few days on any outlet I can muscle my way into.
Do I have your attention? Listen, you people- I’m SO serious. Turn off your phones because what I have to say is a thousand times more important than whoever could be calling or texting you in the next few minutes. Let me put it this way… if I don’t get your full attention, you’re fired. Trust me, I will find a way.
Are we ready now? Good. First off I want to talk about Obama in the poll I conducted in the Trumpousine on the way here. I asked all my people this: Do you believe Donald Trump was indeed responsible for single-handedly getting Obama to finally release his long-form birth certificate.
Okay I admit, it wasn’t really a question. But they all quickly and enthusiastically answered with a firm, ‘YES.’
That is, all but one. And do you want to know why I’m going to tell you this? Because hopefully we all can learn something here. This person had the audacity and misfortune of being of the alien species known as FEMALE. And whatever she said isn’t important or relevant since I could never relate to her anyway. SO. I said to her, ‘You’re fired.’
SO. As far as the birth certificate goes, it’s like this… Trump: 100; Media: 0; Obama: -1,000; Alien chick: -900.
Money-money-money-money…
Oh. Excuse me for just one sec. I gotta take this. Be back in one sec.
Thanks for waiting twenty minutes. I’m really glad because I’d hate to have to fire any of you. I really appreciate you saving me those calls.
Now I want to talk about jobs, which is my strength. It’s true, I own a lot of businesses, but I alone can’t hire all of the unemployed. Besides, we all know I’m not the problem. China is the problem. Trump is the solution. We have to Trump China. There are many ways we can do this that all begin with the letter Trump. SO. Let me tell you my first idea for what will eventually come to be known as, Operation: Trump China.
We raid the Wal-Mart stores, gather everything up and ship it all back to China. Then we employ kids right here in America who want to work, but can’t get any jobs thanks to all the illegal aliens that Obama brought here. It’s the perfect solution. We hire kids from say, ages ten to fifteen, to make clothes and ashtrays while their lazy parents stay home on their asses. No more unemployment checks. The budget is happy, the parents are happy and the kids are happy they get out of school early. Next thing you know, China is bowing to me- I mean, US. They’ll bow to us and come crawling on their knees, begging for mercy. And I’ll just pull out my finger and point at them and say, ‘You’re fired.’
Now it’s… Trump: 10,000; Media: 0; Obama: -100,000; Alien chick: 10, because now I recall she was very attractive and maybe that’s why I hired her.
SO. Blah blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah blah jobs. Blah blah BLAH blah blah blah blah blah Blah. Blah blah blah liberals, and Blah Blah blah blah blah. Because I just can’t believe blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah, thanks to Obama. Blah blah blah blah BLAH is blah blah blah blah blah blah this country.
SO. If you only remember one thing I said today, remember this… I never said Republicans were too crazy for anything. The media, CNN especially, just hates me because they’re jealous I have a TV show that’s a thousand times more popular and entertaining than any of their lame shows, now that Larry King is sipping wine on a nude beach. The only time their shows aren’t lame is when I’m on them. I’m the ratings juice. I’m the O.J. of politics. Why? I’m tangy and delicious and good for this country.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Twisted News: Captain's Lawsuit Fails
Ima Maroon
**************************
Judge Play Land threw out Captain Caveman’s complaint on Wednesday against the legendary animated comic hero, Superman, saying it was, “a lawsuit a grade-schooler could find irony in.”
Play Land also noted the litigation has fueled the small but loud “birther movement” against Superman, and described it as, “nothing but a stack of rhetoric covered in poo gravy.”
Caveman filed the complaint as an effort to club Superman’s orders for the Captain to deploy to an animated version of Iraq.
Caveman’s logic for shirking orders is based on it’s claim that since Superman was never born on the planet Krypton he is a phony, and therefore shouldn’t be allowed to commandeer.
Caveman issued this written statement in advance:
Caveman’s proof includes it’s strong belief that if Superman were actually born on the planet Krypton, he wouldn’t have a deadly allergic reaction to kryptonite. It makes no sense whatsoever. How can something on his own planet- with basically the same name- send the ‘man of steel’ spiraling tragically into a death roll? That I’d have to see to believe, but he won’t put on a demonstration. What is he hiding?
Caveman also believes Superman has used 39 aliases, all stolen from other animated characters.
Caveman itself spoke to us for a moment before entering the court room. “If Superjerk win, terrorist win; no way me gonna win game of Club, Gun, Bomb!”
In response to that Superman said, “Caveman is a cartoon character. It will be up against other cartoons and cannot be exterminated. It has nothing to worry about. What a jackass.”
As Play Land ruled against Caveman, she also had this to say, “Unlike in ‘Alice in Wonderland’, simply saying something is so doesn’t make it so.”
She then ordered Caveman to, “Go to hell. I mean, Iraq.”
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Twisted News: Drug Counselor Tells Celebs, "Just Die Already"
Bebe Maker
****************************
Celebrity patients undergoing treatment for substance abuse in Hollywood, CA were beside themselves when their counselor told them to, “Just die, already. Please. All of you. Just keel over and die.”
Web-certified (self-proclaimed) rehabilitation expert Simi Ragg says she was at the end of her “long, long, waaay too ffffing long assed rope” with the celebs, now her ex-patients.
“I had to kick them out of my program. You can only do so much talk therapy with these losers,” Ragg sputtered. “I thought I had a good group here. In the beginning they agreed they were insecure, greedy dumb shits who had lost all control. And I told them regularly how sad and pathetic their self-centered, woe-is-me attitudes and reckless behaviors were- and how if they continued to want all of the time they were going to get… it!”
Ragg continued, “Like I said they started on the right track. I don’t know how, why or exactly when it happened but I ended up with a room full of whining pussies and boasting idiots. What am I supposed to say when all they can talk about is how badly they need to get lit? Or their last high, and how great it was to crash into a ffffing embankment and cheat death on a bottle of Demerol? That’s loony speak.”
Note from Bebe: It was then I looked at my watch and raised a brow, noting aloud it was almost 4:00, as if I had to leave immediately and rush home to my children. Ragg saw right through me, and rambled on for what seemed like hours.
“I couldn’t imagine telling them, ‘Just live, already. Keep right on living and breathing cocaine. Keep teaching the youth who idolize you that if it isn’t dope, it isn’t chill.’ ”
“The world thinks every artist is nothing more than a walking medicine cabinet or a pissing bum in sharp threads, thanks to those boneheads. So I couldn’t tell them to keep on living. I can’t promote a DUI or insulting the Jews. That would be sarcasm- something I’m just not capable of pulling off. I’m too sincere… I’m very serious about my work.”
Although Simi Ragg’s ex-patients are celebrities, this particular group would like to remain anonymous for now. A few are working on their stories and should have them in print within months. Others will slowly but surely make appearances on reality TV. The remainder plan to, “keep bangin’ and livin’ it up till we OD, like the Ragg lady told us to.”
As for Simi Ragg, she has already fled the country. Rumor has it she’s bleeding in a cave somewhere near the Pakistani border.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
King Interviews The Grim Reaper
Humph. Well if you want the story to die, why don’t you kill it?
Smart ass.
Monday, March 2, 2009
The adoption option
Whenever I think on this subject one thing that really gets my blood boiling, especially since half of those ‘special’ people who ‘work for us’ in Washington are ‘gay on the side’… is that in most places in the US a gay couple can’t even adopt. Well, maybe there aren’t any laws banning it unless you’re in Arkansas, or was that Alabama and what’s the difference? Even so, they’d rather place a waiting child into the hands of a 100-yr-old couple who cane youngin’s at will.
This…
…And this could happen to a child near you.
Yes, maybe some do deserve a good caning. 99% probably need one, but try telling that to a social worker. Seriously though, no kid should ever, ever have to change a bedpan…
When using the word ‘gay’ I’m talking about men of course. Gay women can go to a sperm bank so I’m not even acknowledging them here. I just think it’s so totally unfair. Plus, I’m not related to any gay women so call me biased if you want. It doesn’t change the inequality.
Gay people are just like us. Except they’re gay, which a lot of people get hung up on because according to their bibles they’ll burn in hell right alongside everyone who lies, cheats, steals and listens to extremists. I think what that means is when the world ends the entire city of Washington, D.C. will turn into a giant lake of fire and everyone tuned into Rush Limbaugh will suddenly feel their heads explode.
I know it’s up to each state to decide whether or not to allow or ban a gay couple from providing just as much love as a straight one to children who truly need it. So I wish they’d come to their senses and look at it from a logical perspective. Why must the bible always be used as a divisive device when there’s so much we could learn from it? To be more specific, it clearly states in Revelations that in the year 2012 Washington, D.C. will turn into a lake of fire and Rush will reveal to his listeners he is the son of Lucifer himself causing heads to violently explode. Then, according to the mother of one of my daughter’s friends*, Yellowstone National Park will erupt and destroy us all.
*Ask your kids what they’ve heard lately at school but sit down first.
Of course before that happens, President Obama (who was in Hawaii hosting a party for his party) will lead his followers to the new city of Jerusalem where Senator Max Baucus will finally be free to dance in the daisies and put flowers in his hair. But not before letting everyone know he still opposes gay marriage, adding he just doesn’t think it’s fair to ban it.
So Montana Max will still be one of many confusing Democrats, but since he’s taken more pro-Israel PAC money than anyone it gives him a free pass to enter the city of gold. What I mean is, since he’s been such a huge supporter of Israel he’ll breeze right in while Rush burns for all eternity… the fact that Max has received well over $319,000 in his career from those contributions alone is just a side note.
How much to get Maxi out of the closet?
By now you must obviously be wondering how Oct-O-Mom fits into all of this, so I’ll briefly drop the silliness and even the sarcasm. If Nadya Suleman really wanted everyone to leave her alone she’d give up the babies and a few others for adoption. Her kids would be happy, the public would be happy and the media would temporarily melt into a pool of tears. Wouldn’t it be for the best?
The only downside is gays still can’t adopt but if they could just rustle up a shit load of money for the right people or lie on the application… Well, I’ll always be an optimist.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Nadya Suleman sleeps with stuffed animals
I’m not feeling bitchy or anything, I’m just bored. I originally wrote this a few weeks ago, but I’ve updated it in a couple of places with *asterisks*.
What happened to the good old-fashioned hot and steamy way of making a baby? In case you’re lost (crazy mom who pays for sperm) maybe you should go back to the Build-A-Bear workshop. I’m thinking she wouldn’t understand because her bed is filled with stuffed kitty-cats and assorted inanimate objects.
I’m talking about SEX. I’m talking about a woman getting naked with a man, and the chemistry is so WOW they can think of nothing in the heat of the moment but YOWZA… see, she wouldn’t understand.
If these are true sex fiends in the rawest form (and what’s so wrong with that?) they’ll soon have a tiny little version of themselves demanding constant attention for the next 18 years. Actually it’s more like 35, but who’s counting?
This college grad/fridge artist appreciates his mother’s cooking.
I’m not against sperm banks. It’s just I’d always thought they were for lesbians? Well? I can’t think of any other reason they should exist. But I can remember hearing something possibly 15 years ago about a handful of straight ‘mature’ women who for one reason or another were having trouble rustling up some quality jizz the traditional way. They thought having kids when they were all shagged out was the ultimate way to feel or stay young while making some use of an idle vag.
Idiots! Having kids is as anti-youth as you can get. It speeds up the aging process. You have a kid when you’re 20 and BAM! You’re 30. Just like that. Having a kid is not something to put off until you’re 40 people! But enough about procrastinators. This is about Nadya Suleman.
She makes Angelina Jolie look… nearly harmless?
She has some serious problems I don’t think even Dr. Phil could handle if he were a doctor. Having all 6 plus 8 more of her children with NO SEX is just the tip of the iceberg.
When the story first broke* it didn’t seem nearly as horrible. We couldn’t see her face. And it was reported she worked in the medical field, had a great salary and was living in a home her parents had bought for her. If a couple wants to help their responsible, hard-working daughter who loves kids and can afford to give her a house, then what’s the big deal? I thought not to freak out over some random woman having a shit load of kids at once.
*That story probably came from her PR lady, before she turned piss-yellow and quit recently. I guess she thought doing it pro bono would help drum up business, but in the end maybe she learned PR isn’t about being an outright lying bitch. It’s more like diminishing the negatives and highlighting the positives. Hulk Hogan could do better.
Now the story has taken a dramatic turn. Truth is, she doesn’t have a job at all and has been mooching off of hard-working folks while continuing to breed without the aid of a penis. And, Miss My-Womb-Is-So-Awesome-Men-Hate-Me is living with her parents too? WTF? All 9 family members crammed into a 3 bedroom shanty? So many questions I have! Well, actually just a few…
· When she was a kid, why did her parents insist on having loud, raunchy sex with their bedroom door open? It could’ve happened.
· Depending on the situation, why didn’t her parents either kick her out of their house on child number 3 or prevent her from moving in with them in the first place? So what if the grandkids are disabled. There comes a time when you need to explain to your grown child the concept of being an adult. It means in the very least if you lose your job and can’t support the kids you already have, you should stop having kids.
They could’ve packed her shit up, pointed her into the direction of a homeless shelter and kept the kids as collateral. She probably owed them a fortune at that point. But no, they let her and the 6 offspring live with them… I’m just saying, I think the cuckoo bird might not fly very far from the tree, which houses a entire family of cuckoo birds.
· Where oh where are they planning on putting 8 babies?* I guess the master plan consists of dresser drawers, cardboard boxes and incest.
*The true plan has since been revealed. She has a website (surprise!) and is accepting donations. No one saw that coming! And really no one but she is more deserving of the public’s generosity. It isn’t like the money would be wasted, since the nearest Child Protection Agency shouldn’t be preparing right now to swoop in. Maybe it’s not Texas, but come on now…
*And I hear Sarah Palin is happy she won’t be losing any of her website’s donors over this. But I just have to ask… Would Sarah Palin give you a kidney?
I wish I could be the one to tell her that she has no chance in hell of ever starring in a movie with Brad Pitt and then stealing him away. Sorry Nadya, but you will never make Mrs. Pitt the next Jennifer Aniston.
What if I’m wrong and she wants Angelina Jolie?
Either way, someone better remove her uterus, put her in a straightjacket, THEN explain to her how babies are made. Force her to watch celebrity sex tapes. (*Rather than starring in them - I just read her wiki page at the last minute here, and she’s received a serious offer to make a porno!) It could make Paris Hilton and Pamela Anderson feel like their work was suddenly making a difference. (*Or if she accepts the offer and does porn herself she’d be teaching others, therefore righting all of her wrongs?)
Who is crazier… Nadya Suleman or Sarah Palin?
Friday, January 23, 2009
Thank you Grandpa, for everything
Grandpa’s dead now… Well, since Christmas Eve he’s been dead for two years and I'm just now beginning to accept it. I hope I go out like he did - in my sleep. I know, boring as hell, but if it’s on Christmas Day at least I can haunt my descendants a little (the ones who remember me) on what is supposed to be a happy holiday. Christmas Day, Eve - what’s the difference? He couldn’t have planned it any better than that. In fact, without even knowing it he may have been trying to steal the baby Jesus’ thunder. And how can you knock a guy for inadvertently trying? Of course that’s speculation but it’s true he wasn’t a big fan of the manger, or to be more specific, anything religious or even slightly Catholic-y.
Yes, dying in my sleep in my seventies on Christmas Day is exactly how I want to go. Once you hit 80, how can life be any good? A typical day for me at that age would probably consist of coughing up blood, writing a few crappy lines about the “good ole days” right after swallowing a bunch of pills, cursing out the neighbor kids, inspecting my poop and then sleeping for 16 hours. Whoopee!
Grandpa went out right. It was the right time and the right way. He was getting too old to keep driving, let alone keep kayaking the rapids. All he did was worry me the last six years of his life anyway. When thinking about my own children and grandchildren I think six years of stress would be sufficient.
But really, as great as it seems I wouldn’t have to die on Christmas Day. I’d settle for any holiday just as long as I have a few grandkids around to make my own children feel guilty for not spending enough time with me when I was an old maid. Just because they’ll have their own lives is no excuse for the inevitable neglect. Someone has to call them out, even if it’s in advance. Guilt is what makes a family go round. And if anyone should feel guilty, how is that my fault? We all have our share to carry. Some of us just choose to ignore it.
So as I was saying four paragraphs ago, Grandpa’s dead now, but in an attempt to find some kind of wisdom to pass on to my sons (who are turning 17, 16 and 15 this year) I’ve been looking back at his life. I think it’s my own way of dealing with the fact that I can’t call him up and ask, “So what the heck do I tell these hormonal punks?”
As it turns out, the life he lived is a gold mine of valuable information. Here is a tidbit of what I’ve told my sons: Be careful who you help out. Rescue a dog and you’ll have a faithful friend. Rescue a hooker and she’ll stab you in the back. The beautiful ones you always seem to lose.
Okay, that last line is actually from a Prince song but that doesn’t make it any less true. And this has nothing to do with Grandpa (or Prince) but I’ve also warned, “You’ll need a f**king army or a crazy bitch to stop one. Don’t call me!”
I guess in a few years they’ll already have learned this stuff on their own. Who ever listens to their parents, anyway? Oh... No… They’d better not call me!
Finally, I don’t want to get mushy or anything and you probably can’t read this but I’ll always love and miss you Grandpa. Thanks for everything.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
How to deal with A-Holes and have a Happy Thanksgiving
Whether your own family likes to give you hell or you’re bravely facing the in-laws, YOU are what really matters on this special day of stuffing face. And in a perfect world, we ALL have an absolutely wonderful holiday with everyone we love and nothing goes wrong and we all shit rainbows. Well, get over it! Last time I checked, my shit wasn’t multi-colored (it’s been a while). So if your heart fills with dread this time of year and you’re forced to deal with assholes, you have options. Depending on your personality there are a few ways you can go about this without technically killing anyone.
Option 1: Be the happy-go-lucky one.
This means you put your happy face on, no matter what kind of mine field you’re walking into. Use humor, silliness or stupidity to your advantage. No matter how awful your jokes are, as long as you’re smiling at least one person is guaranteed to not want to kill you. Befriend them! Unless they’re super self-absorbed or a total basket case they’ll defend you when the piranhas attack, even if your partner pretends you don’t exist. And you will be completely invisible to your partner at a family gathering at least once during your relationship, so it’s important to have some comrades around. You know, for when you offend those people without a sense of humor, or those who think they’re better than everyone else… Or the elderly. And you won’t walk out of there without offending someone, you goofy clown.
Option 2: Play deaf and dumb.
Maybe you can’t smile because the sun didn’t come out, someone is dragging you out by your heels, or you like to torture happy people. If you’re not feeling good vibes that’s perfectly OK. When the assholes come ‘round, play dumb. Block out anything that doesn’t bring you comfort or joy. And most importantly, keep your mouth shut! If you can’t resist interaction, do like the chimps do and make obvious gestures. When you are asked a question, shrug. When you’ve had enough and are on the verge of walking out, throw your hand up as if to say, Step off, bitch! There’s also a finger that works for that. On second thought, just stick to the deaf and dumb routine. And it works in any situation where you don’t want confrontation, you spineless mute.
Option 3: Be the biggest asshole.
Why take shit from any turkey? You’ve been a pushover far too long now. You’re sick of the headaches brought on every year by certain ass hats you wish you didn’t have to see, hear, touch or smell. And worst of all, you’ve been holding back. Well it’s time, my friend. It is finally your time. Use this gathering as an opportunity to tell everyone exactly how you feel about them. Hold back no more! Summon your inner-beast. Give them what they’re asking for. But take heed - to be successful you must be strong and loving toward yourself. In a pinch, a strong and loving companion will do. When the dust settles, you’ll be feared. You’ll be hated. Someone will want to kill you. But you are made of steel. Now, proudly and boldly go where the few who aren’t premenstrual dare. You can do this, you coldhearted asshole.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot… Happy Thanksgiving!
Saturday, November 22, 2008
People are strange, and my celebrity twin
About a week ago I learned something in a crowded room full of (mostly) strangers. People tended to be drawn to those who looked or seemed most like themselves. The few blondes in the room always sat together. The guys in plaid with baseball caps stopped talking whenever a man wearing a tie sat near them, or a female. Leather jacket people (unfortunately not the biker kind) had their own little group, and so on. I mostly sat next to Pat since I knew him, and there wasn’t time for idle chatter so it worked out. Talking to Pat is like talking to a rock.
He just can't do it.
When we took breaks the strange behavior continued as people congregated in the hallway, lounge and outside. For the most part people were polite. No one I spoke to ever snubbed me, except for one of the blondes. It was like I was invisible. In that moment I felt… so… black. Damn cracker.
Now here is the list of brave people who initiated conversation with me:
· The only Native American woman there, who sat next to me and sought me out on breaks. I was the only one she talked to and her bff that week. I’ll just say I know more about her family than I ever will about Pat’s. I don’t think he even has one.
· A red headed woman who thought I was funny, but then again, it could’ve been gas. You never know.
· When I was a few minutes late one morning a really spiffy and happy man said, “Hi! There’s an empty seat right here. Sit.”
Damn, I didn’t get his name or number.
· Pat said, “How about Perkins?” and “Let’s go to KFC,” and so on. He was definitely the bravest.
I’m a tough one to figure out thanks to my dark hair and peachy/pasty skin. Whenever someone meets me for the first time and tries to label me or guess my ethnicity they are usually wrong. The upside is being able to blend in just about anywhere. The downside is… Well, there really is no downside. When they are wrong I find it amusing. One time I’ll never forget was back when I was married and living in my husband’s home town. I’d just started making chicken-fried steak (which is the only thing I can cook well) and we were almost out of cooking oil so my husband went to the store. He returned with an old friend he had seen walking along the road carrying a 12 pack. I hadn’t even met this guy yet but here he was, at our dining room table waiting for dinner and drowning himself in his beer. They called me out of the kitchen. Right after we were introduced he blurted out, “You look like a Jew!”
I smiled and said nothing.
He turned to my husband. “She’s not Jewish?”
My husband just smiled and shook his head. Then his friend turned back to me, “You really look like you’re from Israel or sumthin’!”
To this day I’m still not sure if he was racist, ignorant or just thought I looked like Anne Frank.
Anne
Me
She's definitely my celebrity twin. Now if anyone needs me I’ll be hiding out in a house full of white kids.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
The Shit List: Downtown Chain Restaurants
I wanted to reserve this list for groups of people I really dislike, but bad management IS people and the root of the problem. And I’ve heard it’s not good to “stuff” your feelings. I never have a good bottle of booze handy anyway. I spent last week attending lectures so by Friday I was numb enough as it was. And all that sitting! I hate it when my butt cheeks fall asleep. It really wasn’t the place to stand up and shake it. The first day I was surprised to see some one I knew. Pat is extremely boring one-on-one and I was in physical pain trying to have a conversation with him, but he is a nice guy and no one likes to dine in public alone. Well, we don’t. We didn’t want to risk getting back late so after factoring in everything (traffic, parking, wait time, etc.) we had to have lunch downtown. Our places of choice were scattered around the outer edges of the city and we were stuck in the center. Math is never fun and was working against us.
When I’m in the largest city in the state I normally try to avoid downtown. Traffic stinks and the only place to catch a bite without messing with a meter is a chain restaurant, which you can find elsewhere. But now I have even more reasons. Pat didn’t know what to expect either so I can’t pin any of this on him. Hence the shit list. We went to a different place each day and they all sucked. These were the two worst.
We started off the week at Perkins. When our waitress came over I immediately recognized her. I used to work with her somewhere else and she looked exactly the same as she did ten years ago, from her hairstyle right down to her pregnant belly. Talk about deja vu. But wait, there’s more. She still has this cold and pissed off look like she will either pull out a gun or start balling if you ask how her day’s going. Don’t think this just comes with being a waitress and packing a fetus. She’s always had a way of making people uncomfortable, prego or not. Well, everyone has their skills. She also hates conversation unless it involves her complaining, so I was glad she stuck to her job. I was hungry so I ordered the ‘Everything Omelet’, which was a ten dollar omelet. Ten dollars! Everything Omelet! So I’m thinking I’ll be in omelet heaven. Was I wrong to assume that? Umm… After getting my omelet I couldn’t help but wonder where the rest of it was. Seriously, it looked like something a model would not only inhale but actually leave in her stomach. I was already put off, then I noticed the cheese on top wasn’t melted. The last time I got my food like that (A&W summer 2006) the entire thing was cold. Well, it was actually much worse. My chili dog was partially frozen. So was I wrong to assume my omelet would be a little coldish? Since it didn’t look frozen I dove right into it. I burned my tongue.
I had it coming. And I’m always this scary.
As you can see I’m wrong a lot of the majority of the time. And when I’m wrong I’m very, very wrong. And as if all that weren’t bad enough, while I was pretending not to be in pain I noticed another tight-lipped, snobby snot waitress who worked with me that same year. It wasn’t weird enough to see just one of these old sour puss co-workers, so here were two of them in the same damn place. And yet, after thinking it over I left a nice tip for the walking time bomb. Some day some one might get hurt.
The next day Pat was craving some kind of KFC bowl that had mashed potatoes, gravy, chicken and cheese all mixed together. I still don’t know what it’s called. For one, they didn’t have it up on the board. Two, he couldn’t remember the name. We stood there for a while as he looked for it, until an anorexic looking young woman with greasy hair and a depressed demeanor slowly came out of the darkness (maybe some bulbs had burned out). And the place was dark too. To be more specific, this girl looked like an emo 8th grader but was Addams Family creepy. The bad lighting didn’t help any. No, scratch that. If the lighting was any good we would’ve seen more creepy.
They always start with dolls
Pat described what he wanted and she rang it up. Although it sounded grotesque, like what a one-year-old does with his food right before he throws it on the floor, I knew Pat had some taste so I told the Addams girl I’d try it. Then she said we’d have to wait while they made the chicken. It was lunchtime at KFChicken and they weren’t ready for 2 measly orders? Great. It got worse though. We sauntered off to find a table and there were plenty of them. There were only 3 other people in the place which I thought was odd, at first. Then we went from table to table. We couldn’t find one that was clean. Not one! Every single table was dirty. Magnificent. Pat went from disgusted to determined to make it better somehow. He chose a small table with only a few crumbs and used a napkin to wipe it off. He was really hell bent on this chicken potpourri so I thought it had to be good. When it was ready we had to go back to the counter. Perkins prices but no waitresses in sight? Yes, I was pissed the bowl thing cost ten bucks. I know it’s all about location, but we weren’t in a frigging mall. Okay, I’ll admit the chicken/potato gumbowl was very tasty, but it shouldn’t take a Taser to get your employees to wipe tables or show some courtesy. And they should at least look like they might not be carving out the hearts of live chickens by candlelight in a back room. Oddly enough the rest room was clean, so if I’m ever in the neighborhood and need to pee or drop something off...
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
We could change Election Day to a month earlier
You’ll see what I mean by end of this post. But first a little background to my dad’s worst Halloween ever, which was just last Friday. He has a shed in his back yard that (except for a few days a year) is stuffed full of Halloween crap. But for years all he had in there was a dummy wearing a hockey mask in an electrocution chair (death row style) that’s rigged to look pretty awesome when it’s plugged in. After construction he and his friends nicknamed it “Sparky” for obvious reasons. When Dad was still in his “single and hating most women because of my mother” years, he and his friends took Sparky over to a family member’s house. And others would contribute, making it the most kickassingest Halloween display on that side of town. Then Dad got remarried, and his wife turned out to be the kind of one-woman-show who puts many to shame when it comes to making holidays spectacular. Well, almost everyone.
So she says.
And from that Halloween on, Dad and my step mom teamed up to make their property really freaky. Their house and yard became the most happenin’ place in the neighborhood. But this year they were more than slightly annoyed with some of the ghouls who stopped by. And after hearing all about it, here's what I now believe are the worst types of visitors (from least horrible to most horrific)…
The super obnoxious teenaged thief
This was not your average obnoxious 13-yr-old male teen who, for example, might tell you he’s taking your daughter to his grandmother’s for cookies when they plan on watching a movie together at his house. No, this is the super obnoxious bastard who tells you exactly where they are going while he’s got his arm around her (and she’s wearing a mini-skirt and giggling way too much). The ‘thief’ part is obvious. He’s going to steal her virginity. In this case Dad would’ve done the honorable thing and send him packing with his underwear hanging out of his pants, then tell his daughter to, “Put some damn clothes on.”
Anyway, this super obnoxious jerk arrived as you might expect, with all manners out the window. He didn’t even say “Trick or treat” before slamming his entire hand into the candy bowl in an attempt to take all he could. Well that wasn’t going to fly. Dad grabbed his hand and forced the punk to drop it all. My hope is this spoiled piece of butt waste will remember this and learn something, but I have an odd feeling he’ll be in kiddy jail soon. I wonder if that’s anything like the adult-jail variety? No? Damn.
The future gold digger
This was a 16-yr-old girl who was not only NOT dressed up as anything but a slut (like those weren’t her normal clothes) but she was also hauling two large gunny sacks like she had just robbed the nearest bank. One was already full of candy, the other half-full. To witness greed of this magnitude blew my dad’s mind, and under the special circumstances he was at a loss for what to do. You see, there’s a rule most men follow called the ‘girl rule’, which means whether they know it or not (usually not) they automatically treat females differently than males. This is always to the female’s advantage. My dad belongs to the group of men who follow the rule without realizing it. It’s why for years my brothers secretly hated us (but mostly our other two sisters).
As you can imagine, the future gold-digging bitch with her sacks full of candy took from the bowl with no shame, and got away without reprimand. Her punishment will come in a few years when she’s forced to pick up Viagra at the pharmacy for her 80-year-old husband and then (as if that weren’t bad enough) it dawns on her he is expecting some action. Either that or finds out after his death she was never mentioned in the will. I personally hope it’s the latter. And that it comes after ten years of picking up Viagra and suffering through the trauma that follows while waiting for him to bite the dust.
The political fanatics
These are the absolute worst kind of Halloween House crashers. At least with the drunks you can make up an address a mile or two away and tell them there’s lots of booze and ‘easy young booty’ there and get rid of them quickly. When I say ‘political fanatics’ I’m not talking about your typical supporters just leaving a few words to mull over before moving on to the next house. I’m talking about the nuts who see the most popular house in the neighborhood as the one to haunt. They stick around and become grade A repellent. When the decent people come along and hear them arguing they run away and make a mental note not to drop by this crazy place ever again. And this story was the one that surprised me. You’d think people would take a break from their political views and enjoy visiting their neighbor’s awesomely decorated yard? Doesn’t that sound better than wasting time trying to shove your ideals (and all sides have them) down another guy’s throat and pissing off everyone in the vicinity (including the host)?
Dad didn’t want to be rude as these were adults and not kids who might actually be taught a lesson. But he sure thought it was rude how these grown idiots decided to make his yard the place to debate. This was his yard, dammit! He eventually said, “Fock it,” and figured it was much less depressing giving candy to the greedy and impolite goblins and witches.
My holiday was just fine since I do very little decorating. Last year I made fun of the teens who came by trick-or-treating. I asked them if they liked being out with all of the little kids, and mentioned it was so sad they didn’t have a date for the Halloween dance. Needless to say, I didn't see them this year. Hillary Clinton once said, “It takes a village to kick a kid’s ass.” So true.
Monday, November 3, 2008
When I fill up I won't be thinking about Kucinich
Dennis Kucinich came to me in a dream and said, “Look at these gas prices! Don’t you think it’s odd - the closer we get to Election Day the lower they go? Don’t you see what’s going on here?”
Then three gigantic men in shades, suit jackets and Speedos came out of nowhere and grabbed him. They slapped duct tape over his mouth, forced him into a straightjacket, threw him into the back of a van and took off so fast I could actually taste gravel. Yum. Then I awoke to my 3-month-old puppy licking my face and mouth. Needless to say, I felt like I got gypped. I was always under the impression, if a dog sucks your face while sleeping aren’t you supposed to dream it’s someone hot and horny, and not dirt hitting your face? Stupid dog. You sleep alone tonight.
The guys who hauled Kucinich off were wearing candy-striped Speedos, so does that make them gay or me gay (for having the dream)?
Isn't watching this after my daughters have left the room somehow okay?
It makes me a dimwit (and there are many layers here). I’m thinking no one in the gay community would be caught dead in candy stripes. Something tells me they’ve been trying to take out Richard Simmons for years, but he’s a sniper’s worst nightmare. (Stand still, dammit!)
This whole candy-striped thing has me in a tizzy. It really killed the sharp-dressed image my subconscious was trying to achieve with their suit jackets and dark sunglasses. So I think I should throw out the Disney movies and tell the girls the puppy chewed them into oblivion. Better yet, I’ll just put one in his food dish every day and call it redemption for loosening up my shoelaces (they always seem to unravel when I’m at work and on the stairs). Well, that and the chewed up internet cords (do they taste better than other cords?), making me scrub the carpet, and I can’t forget the unwanted face bath. I don’t know what’s worse - the fact that I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on Disney movies since my kids could see, or that my puppy chews on shoes and licks his balls before kissing me.
So that was one crazy dream/nightmare/make-out-session-with-my-dog. But concerning recent gas prices, I’d be the last one on earth to complain. They’ve been falling like they can’t get up. We went from $4.10/gal to $2.45 in what seemed like just a month. In fact, I’m getting excited right now wondering how low the price might possibly drop by Friday. I’m stuck with a gas hog at the moment, so for me, checking out the latest smoking hot price on the gas station sign has been just like a hot stud talking dirty to me.
Each time I drive by I wonder, Is today the day I’ll finally stop and let loose? I’ve still got enough to last another week, but I’m telling you, it’s taking all of my willpower to keep from hittin’ that. When I do prime the pump I want to make it worthwhile, so I’ll be filling up until it can’t take no more. And when I do give in to my desire, will I grab the pump slowly and savor the moment? Or will I rush right into it - stuff it in and squeal in delight with each gallon that enters my tank?
We’ll see. For now I’ll be holding out as long as possible. Nothing like letting the excitement build. But when I do it, I’m hoping everyone at the station will be inside the building or fighting in their trucks. I’d like a little privacy.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
It's so hard to find a good doctor these days
I went to the doctor and said, “At night I’m having trouble falling asleep, and stay awake long after the kids have gone to bed.”
“No problem. I can prescribe you some good sleeping pills,” he said.
“But there’s more,” I continued. “When I finally do fall asleep, I don’t want to wake up.”
The doctor interrupted a second time. “Sounds like depression, and if that’s the case, no worries. Nothing a good prescription won’t fix.”
“Wait, there’s more. When I get home from work and my sweet, darling children talk to me I feel a strong urge to grab a beer and take a long swig every time they say, ‘Mom’ or ‘Can you…’. If I actually followed through, in a couple of hours I’d be drunker than Amy Winehouse at a Sunday brunch.”
I sometimes wonder if it’s just her name. Maybe if she changed it to ‘Amy Straighthouse’ or ‘Amy Soberhouse’ it would help her image? Maybe at least help keep her from always looking totally trashed?
Nah.
He winced. “Sounds like you might have the drinking disease. Any alcoholism in your family?”
“No. None. Having lots of kids is the only thing that runs in my family.”
While he scratched his head, I continued describing my symptoms. “When we’re at the grocery store, I want to throw all of the frozen foods into my cart and totally empty out the freezer case.”
“Hunger?”
“No. ‘Cause then it would be easier to stuff my kids into the freezer case.”
“Oh.”
“Just until they begged for mercy,” I added.
He frowned. “It sounds like you’re having early symptoms of a disease called KCJB - Kidamage Caustrating Jellocious Braindeadeous.”
I let out a puzzled, “Hmm?”
He continued, “In plain English - Kids Causing Jellied Brain. It’s very real, and you should be very afraid. The more kids you have, the worse it will be for you in the end. And you’ve got like - let me see your chart - holy kidlets. Five. You should be crapping your pants. Right now. I wish I could tell you there’s a cure. But what I can tell you is, there’s no cure.”
I let out a stunned, “Huh?”
“Luckily, you do have some time left to enjoy life. Mainly in those precious hours you spend away from your children. But eventually your entire brain is going to turn to jelly. One big blob of jam that will be totally useless. If I had to guess, based on everything you’ve told me, I’d say it could happen in about five years. That’s not so bad. You’ll be 40 then, so your life will basically be over anyway.”
I let out a - nothing. Just dropped my jaw into my lap.
He continued, “I admire your gaping mouth. So I’ve been thinking. You know what? I can’t lie to you and say this disease is entirely incurable. There’s nothing wrong with being proactive, now that you know what fate lies ahead. So I’ll let you know - and this needs to be kept just between you and me - I’ll totally cover you, if you want to pull a Yates.”
“If I pull a what?!”
He continued, “Shh! Not so loud. I’m trying to help you here. Surely you’ve heard of that mother who drowned her five kids?”
“Um yeah, the psycho-mama. I don’t want to drown anyone. No offense.”
He put a finger to his chin and thought for a minute. “Well, seriously? You’re going to shoot that one down without any consideration? ‘Cause although you’d be in a hospital for the rest of your life, it would be a long life without jam for a brain. You’d retain your sanity. No one will know. You plead insanity, I’ll back you. I’ve got a doctor pal working with a certain defense lawyer, and my friend owes me some favors. Think about it.”
“No.”
“Oh well. I got it! How about an accident? Here’s a good one. It’s simple. Take the kids on a hunting trip. ‘Accidentally’ make them your target.”
“HELL no.”
“Um, alright. Too violent. Okay. I got it! Take them on a long drive into the mountains. ‘Accidentally’ lose them in the middle of nowhere. The wolves and bears should take good care of them. Worst case scenario: one makes it out alive. Two tops.”
I stood up to leave. “Thanks Doc, but I think the only real solution is to send the kids to live with their grandparents. After everything I’ve learned about KCJB today, I’m thinking it’s a good idea. It’s become pretty clear - Mom and Dad are already a couple of jam heads.”
The doctor’s eyes lit up.
“Great Scott! Now why didn’t I think of that?”
Hmm. He looks awfully familiar.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Twisted News: Obama's endorsements defy laws of nature
It all started when Hillary Clinton, after fighting like mad for the Democratic nomination, came out at the convention with just as much fervor to concede and throw her weight behind Barack. When asked why she was so willing to discard her pride and step up for this shocking display of unity, she replied, “Any night I can piss off my husband is a good night.”
That same night Bill Clinton was overheard saying, “I love the guy. Why else would I be so supportive? I don’t need my wife to get a piece. Consider that when you’re in the voting booth.”
Another shocker was just last week when General Colin Powell, a Republican, came out of the closet on NBC’s ‘Meet The Press’ to endorse Barack. While speaking to Tom Brokaw off-camera, he said, “Back when I was for the war I was really against it, but it was the most popular mind-set. Do I regret it? Of course. After eight years of Bush in the White House, am I ashamed to call myself a Republican? Naturally. I just went out and a bought a blue hybrid, a blue beach house in the Bahamas, and a great set of books for my young grandchild based on the TV show, ‘Blue’s Clues’. I’ve even got bluebirds and a donkey in my backyard now.”
Then Tom said, “You’ve been privately supporting Barack for months now. Why wait so long to make it public?”
Powell replied, “Isn’t it obvious? It’s pretty clear he’s the most popular candidate.”
Fast forward to this weekend. The Anchorage Daily News is the state of Alaska’s largest newspaper. Unbelievably, it was reported on CNN and internet news sites that the newspaper has publicly endorsed Barack Obama. When asked why they weren’t supporting a McCain/Palin White House, they came out with this statement…
“We are grateful for everything our sweetheart, Governor Sarah Palin, has done for Alaska and its citizens. We would love nothing more than to support a ticket with a VP candidate who governs our great state, but…
Seriously? For real? You’re kidding, right?”
And the last we will report on (but not the least) is the man who came out to shock the world as one of Barack’s strongest supporters, Joe Biden. It was leaked he will be chosen as People Magazine’s next Sexiest Man Alive. The editors have fallen hard for him, and stated the following reasons for their choice.
“He swallowed his pride when he accepted Barack’s offering to become the VP candidate. In the past he’s ran for President not once, but twice. That is some ‘heart-melting humility’.”
“He survived a near-death experience when an angry McCain supporter broke into his house and clubbed him in the head with a baseball bat. That is some tough. And not long after that, America’s favorite gaff machine was back to display his ‘irresistible sense of humor’.”
“He is a ‘rock solid family man’ which makes him very appealing to the ladies. Any old white guy who can make a young black woman throw her panties with abandon is incredibly sexy.”
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Twisted News: Palin's first news conference
Sarah Palin may be leery of the media in general, but she was eager to take questions from many students in an elementary school gymnasium during what she thought would be a private session. This transcript is based on an audio recording, so there are no pictures. Aw, shucks.
Sarah: Hi, kids! Do you know who I am?
Girl: That lady from Saturday Night Live!? Can I please have your autograph?!
Sarah: I’m actually Sarah Palin, Governor of the great state of Alaska, as you’ve probably seen in The Simpsons Movie. I’m running for Vice President alongside John McCain. I’ll be signing autographs when we’re done here and you’ll be the very first to get one!
Girl: Uh, no thanks.
Boy: You were in The Simpsons Movie?
Sarah: Almost, but not quite. What I meant was Alaska is the state Homer Simpson ran to when his family was in hiding. Did you see me wink just now?
Girl: Why did you come to our school? We’re just kids.
Sarah: Well you may just be children, but I believe you are our future, so if we teach you well- oh wait, you’ll probably recognize those lines from School of Rock. Truth is - I needed a little break from being around grown-ups, and I was in the neighborhood, and your principal is a republican. So I’m here today, just to talk to you all and give you a sense of who I am, and hopefully you’ll go home and tell your parents about the nice lady running for Vice President. Does that sound cool, or what?
Cricket: Chirp-chirp.
Sarah: John McCain will become our next president if we are so blessed, and I hope you’ll think of us as the angels we are. We’re here to protect you from all of the evils out there and fight them while we reign supreme in the justice and liberties of which shall be determined should be held sacred, and other good and safe things like that. I even brought flag tattoos for all of you, which I recommend wearing proudly on your foreheads. Does staying safe sound good to you kids?
(Could be a) Boy or girl: My mom already taught me about ‘stranger danger’. Will we get candy if you win?
Sarah: Of course, and I’m glad you asked that question. Part of our economic plan includes distributing candy to every family in America. But it will have to be fair, so the rich families will get more candy than the poor ones. You see kids, poor families will be happy with whatever they get!
Boy or girl: Mom said not to take candy from strangers. Now I’m scared.
Sarah: Um, next question?
Girl: Who is Joe the Plumber? And Joe Six-Pack? Are they the same guy?
Sarah: I see some one here has been paying attention to my speeches!
Girl: Actually, I heard my grandma (who has Alzheimer’s) telling my mom that you talk about them a lot but it’s just a gimmick. Is that true? ‘Cause my grandma is kind of nuts.
Sarah: Hmm. Well let me tell you, Joe the Plumber is just as important as Bob the Builder. Can he fix it? Yes he can! Can he plumb it? You betcha! Joe Six-Pack is better than Joe Camel. And a Nobama is better than an Obama. No gimmicks here kids, just the facts. And I’m so sorry about your grandma. Under John McCain’s health care plan your family can put that money to good use, ensuring your grandma is always kept far away from you. Seedy caretakers are better than none, Hon!
Boy: Can you really see Russia from your house? My big sister pretends to be you when she says it, but then she laughs, so I’m confused.
Sarah: Well here’s a little secret. If I go way up on the roof of my mansion and use a really high-powered telescope, then yes I can see Russia. Yes I can! So you tell your sister that, and you can also tell her she’s not getting any candy.
Girl: I saw you on TV with Katie Couric. Did you watch yourself?
Sarah: Now I’m curious, Sweetie. Why would you ask that?
Girl: ‘Cause if I ever got on TV I would want to watch myself, so I just wanted to know if you watched yourself. Why else?
Sarah: Well, the answer to that is a firm NO. First of all, I’d much rather stick to my line- er, talking points than veer off course and talk to any mean gotch-ya journalists out there. And to tell ya the truth, I knew when it was over it would just be a side note in our campaign. I have more important things to do than watch myself on TV, like focus on winning by saying whatever I can about our opponent on the campaign trail, and making sure my good name is kept good back home in Alaska. And I will continue in this fashion to keep things relevant because I love my America.
(Another) Boy or girl: What are gotch-ya journ-lists?
Sarah: I’m glad you asked! Gotch-ya journalists are reporters who ask trick questions to get you to say something they can pick apart and say mean things about. You know what bullies are, right? Well that’s what they are. Mean school yard bullies with a lust for the taste of blood. Sometimes they give you something funny to drink before you even get started. Well, I’ll just come right out and say it ‘cause I like to talk straight. Kids, the media and news people out there are evil. Well, all of them except Rush Limbaugh. They don’t like me because I’m angelic and good. That not only makes me better than them, but also secures my place in heaven as they sink to the depths of hell. And some day, they’ll beg for mercy as I file my nails and watch reruns of Walker: Texas Ranger with John McCain in The Situation Room. So you kids need not worry. We know how to keep you safe.
Boy: Are you saying Barack Obama can’t keep us safe?
Sarah: You’d have to ask him that question yourself, but I really don’t think he’s coming here! And I won’t say you should fear him, but I’d better let you know - if you look anything like Osama Bin Laden, he’ll shoot you dead.
Boy: Didn’t you say he is pals with terrorists?
Sarah: No, I said he pals around with terrorists. There’s a difference. So when you go to sleep at night, imagine John McCain and I floating over your house. We’re just a couple of angels sent here to reprogram your thoughts in goodness to protect you from harm, is all. But now it’s time to wrap this up. I’ve got to get back to the pumpin’, stumpin’ and tub thumpin’. Just one more question.
Girl: Do you have any advice for us girls when we grow up?
Sarah: Girls, this is important. I want you all to be winners, so you’ll have to trust me on this one. You just can’t go wrong if you find a rich, old man.
Monday, October 20, 2008
The Shit List: Undecided Voters
On occasion I make a mental note of certain groups of people I hold a good amount of contempt for. But why keep it bottled up inside? So I’ve decided to share my feelings. It isn’t hatred - I just really dislike these people. I’m calling it ‘The shit list’ for lack of a better title. ‘People I really dislike’ sounds too lame, and ‘People who should disappear off the face of the earth’ or ‘People I hold a good amount of contempt for’ are too long, and that last one just plain sucks.
Watching the presidential race has been so weird this year. I can’t remember a race ever being this dramatic. It’s like a soap opera except it’s real life, which is pretty awful when I think about it that way. I hate soaps, but I do enjoy vanilla scented body wash. I also hate polls for many reasons but mainly because it’s always really close, and you’ve got those undecided voters who could swing it either way, yet they insist on remaining undecided right up until the very end just to keep the rest of us guessing. Thanks, guys! So we don’t really know how it will end, but I’m ready for it to end now.
Here’s my advice for undecided voters. The first time in my life I had a tough decision to make I went to my dad. Maybe it was something like deciding whether or not to wear those hideous leg warmers to school because they were considered hip, but whatever and whenever it was, it was a tough decision at the time. So I asked my dad how he decided what to do when he was confused about something. He said, “You’ve got to weigh it out.”
He held out his hands, palms up, like he was a human scale and literally showed me how it worked. “You put all the good on this side, put all the bad on the other side. If the bad outweighs the good, it’s the wrong choice. If the good outweighs the bad, that’s probably the right choice. Run with it.”
The leg warmers helped to keep my legs warm that winter.
So there you go. You think about everything you already know, and find out everything you don’t yet know but want to know. Then you weigh it out. It’s not fool-proof, but it’s a formula and better than just sitting on your haunches. So please, and I’m probably speaking for most political junkies here, don’t remain undecided another day.
We’ve still got over two weeks left before the standard national voting day, but that doesn’t mean the undecideds should keep telling the pollsters they have no clue who they are voting for. Everyone’s identity I assume is kept confidential, so what’s keeping them from spitting it out? Are they really still confused or are they just paranoid? Are they on drugs? Alcoholics? Is there a Nazi in the room when they get the call? I give up.
Yeah, I know. Polls are usually wrong anyway. I should just turn off the TV and go to church.
Twisted Lyrics: My Name Is Joe The Plumber
This came to me when I saw a McCain t-shirt on CNN that read, “My name is Joe the plumber.”
This is an obvious twist on Eminem’s song, My Name Is. I’m just having some fun and it won’t be long before everyone forgets all about this guy. I’m also a fan of Carly Simon but I couldn’t make this fit with any of her songs.
My Name Is… Joe The Plumber
Hi! My name is… what? My name is… who?
My name is… Joe the plumber
Hi! My name is… huh? My name is… what?
My name is… Joe the plumber
Ah hem. Excuse me!
Can I have the attention of the press for one second?
Hi kids! Do you like violence?
Wanna see me stick Palin’s nails through each one of my eyelids?
Wanna copy me and do exactly as I did?
Trick y’all and get f***ed up worse than my life is?
I don’t play straight, found a candidate to bait
but I can’t figure out why I owe $1200 to the state
John McCain said, “Joe you are a winner!”
Uh-uh. “You won the debate. Here’s your dinner!”
Well I pretend, I feel like I’m someone else
Cause I felt like a rich plumber cause that’s just how I felt
Got pissed off and ripped the democrat’s balls off
And smacked him so hard he went away crying, so I thought
You all should know who I am, my real name is Sam
I’m on McCain’s side and I don’t give a damn
I am Sam (We know your last name is Wurzelbacher!)
But please call me Joe, God sent me to be the plumber
Hi! My name is… what? My name is… who?
My name is… Joe the plumber
Hi! My name is… huh? My name is… what?
My name is… Joe the plumber
My fifteen minutes of fame sure aren't flyin by fast
Thanks a lot, I was just hoping it wouldn't last
But it’s okay that I’m on many buttons, McCain’s shown me lovin,
and even Sarah Palin gives me huggin (Wow!)
Showed up in the crowd, had my other face on
Surprised Obama, now do you all think I’m a con?
A registered voter, runnin with republicans
and the liberals are screamin at me: “Let’s just be friends!”
Ninety-nine percent of my life is just a dream
I just found out I need a license and I’m steamed (Damn!)
I told me I’d grow up to be a famous plumber
Make a statement about Palin love and try not to hurt her
You know you blew up when the McCain says your name
and the reporters flood your house givin you this fame
Barack at the debate asked to explain his plan
(Joe, can I speak about my plan?)
So I sighed, “Dear Barack, thanks for the support, Asshole!”
Hi! My name is… huh? My name is… who?
My name is… Joe the plumber
Hi! My name is… what? My name is… who?
My name is… Joe the plumber
Stop the tape, this plumber is sick of TV!
John McCain, don’t just stand there, you’re the key!
I’m not feelin too good, cause the people do pry (F*** that!)
They’ll have to slap me on more t-shirts in order to keep my name alive
Am I Samuel or Joe? I can barely decide
I just might lose my self respect, dare me to cry?
All my life I moved from there to here
I have lived in Arizona, in Alaska for almost a year
(Whoops!) You know I’m the Incredible Joe
I’m in Ohio, and I’m the star of the show (C’mere)
When I was unknown I used to get so pissed off I would throw fits
How you gonna help, Joe Biden? You ain’t got no tits! (Wahhh!)
I have to get a plumbing license to work
What the hell happened? I’ll get you media jerks (Bang!)
I’m steamin mad (Arrrggghhh!)
And by the way when you see Barack? (Yeah?)
Tell him that I kicked his ass, and my vote is locked
Hi! My name is… what? My name is… who?
My name is… Joe the plumber
Hi! My name is… huh? My name is… what?
My name is…
You can get your button at McCain's website...
Saturday, October 4, 2008
How to sexually harass a co-worker
Are you ready to learn how to successfully navigate around those pesky laws banning sexual harassment in the workplace? In order to effectively break these laws meant to protect women and women only, certain criteria must be met. If you fall into any of the following categories, congratulations! You are on your way.
First and foremost, you must be:
An attractive woman, OR
A man who resembles an attractive woman, OR
Self-employed
If you don’t meet any of these basic criteria, there is simply no hope for you. Unless you resort to violence, of course. So stay tuned for the next how-to, entitled ‘How to pick up a lesbian’, as we do not wish to discriminate here.
Tips for the women and those who come very, very close...
1. The don’ts: Don’t think for a minute you can just stroll up to a guy at work and make a move on his unit. Even if he likes it (and studies have shown he will) you run the risk of getting written up or treated like a two-bit hooker. For the sake of simplicity let’s pretend this is a straight man you’re dealing with here. He could tell his wife or girlfriend (you may or may not know exists), which could be much worse. Especially if you are a man in female attire, which makes defending yourself against a mad bitch that much more complicated. And your gender doesn’t matter if she resembles a sumo wrestler. Odds are you’ll be her next meal. Even if not one of these disastrous scenarios occur, he WILL tell at least one guy at work. It won’t be long before word spreads like a meth whore in a truck stop parking lot. The bottom line: If you don’t like your job and plan on leaving anyway, then by all means, roll the dice and make a beeline straight for his junk. But if you’re gonna do it, do it right and get it on video.
2. The safest target is one who has no idea he is a target. Find a good-looking gent with tattoos. The more tats the better, as this will give you more opportunities to play. On each occasion, point out one specific piece of artwork on his beautriful body and touch away. He will not only welcome your advances but gladly tell you all about the particular tattoo - where and when he got it, what gang it might represent, etc. You can either pretend to listen in awe or keep touching it (him) until he is finished with the boring details. Then gracefully walk away, and in your mind shout, Score!
3. Additional hint: Anything in-between these two extremes is safe because you are an attractive woman (or resemble one). Have fun sexually harassing!
Tips for the self-employed...
1. The safest target is most likely the only target in sight - yourself. If you are a man and indeed resemble one, this is the only way you can be absolutely successful in the world of sexual harassment. In addition, the only time you can pull this off is while working alone. But all genders have to realize what a wonderful position they are in here. You are your own boss, so YOU set your own schedule. As long as you strike in the privacy of your own office there is virtually no risk here. And you can go much, much further than the average workplace harasser. Get yourself a full-length mirror if you don’t already have one. Set the mood by lighting a candle or wearing a leopard-print thong. If you are a woman, slap on some pasties. Men and women, you’ll thank yourself later for going all out. So… now that you’re armed with this knowledge you can get creative, and use your imagination for a most pleasing harassment experience.
2. The don’ts: Don’t think for a minute you can just sexually harass yourself in public. For example, you might remember what happened to “Pee Wee” Herman when he worked his hose in a movie theater. After making his contribution to an already sticky floor, he got arrested! Most of society still looks down on touching yourself in a public place, even if that place is dark and already swirling with germs. And if this can happen in a movie theater, Buddha only knows how you could get away with it at a bus stop or in a city park. And I don’t have to tell you how bad it would be if you DID get arrested. In these tough economic times, who could afford the related fines? It’s hard enough being self-employed as it is, so for the love of Anna Nicole Smith, don’t do it unless you’re suicidal. The bottom line: Public masturbation is much better than jumping off a bridge. If you’re thinking about overdosing on painkillers or slitting those wrists, then by all means, replace those thoughts with self-lust and pretend no one will see you working that hand (or dildo) in the poster section at Spencer’s.
3. Additional hint: Buddha isn’t watching. Have fun sexually harassing!
Today's How-to was brought to you by twisted-wiki.com, NOT twistedwick.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
The star of the Republican ticket
She stole McCain’s wisp of thunder and since then has been some sort of puppet person. And according to recent polls, the ‘Palin factor’ has been working well for Obama’s campaign. Much better than Biden. However, I don’t think it’s fair for Palin to say she’s been hearing about Biden’s speeches since she was in second grade. So here’s a cheap shot for ya. I’m 35. She’s 44. Do the math. When I was in second grade she was busy getting nailed in the back seat of a Chevy.
I think Palin is just trying too hard at this point. That quip was an obvious attempt at impersonating Tina Fey that went all screwy on the poor woman. And when Katie Couric got up in her grill about her statement, she tried to pass it off like it wasn’t a dig on Biden’s age and said he was experienced three or four times. I guess Katie really threw her off there. Sarah got so confused she thought she was talking about McCain. Katie is really a bad ass. Anyone in her line of fire should be… scared?
If what America really wants is a dummy times two in office yet again, then elect me. My running mate will be my female dog, Sparky Churchill. That’s historic times two. Two bitches in office. So wrong it must be right? The dog is qualified in commandeering because she’s also named after the great Winston. What can I say. I just knew this day would come.
While Palin was on stage at the convention speaking to a semi-live audience of Republicans, she said if they just gave her a chance she could make them all fifty years younger. And the crowd went wild. There were canes waving and hair plugs flying. Exciting stuff there. Even Joe Biden flinched.
After asking that great question (back before she was actually chosen), “What does a Vice President do?”…
She has apparently been taking a crash course. The question is, will the course crash? I thought for sure it would when they took the teleprompter away. But now that they’re letting her speak on her own, the public is impressed that she can come across like she’s speaking on her own. Maybe they’ll let her talk to reporters some time in the near future for a few minutes, to prove she isn’t just a puppet in lipstick, but I won’t hold my breath waiting for a Sarah Palin news conference. Something tells me, even if he allowed that, McCain would be right behind her whispering, “No comment on ‘bridge to nowhere’.”
Did you know twenty percent of Alaskans hate her guts? You call them cheap shots. I call them fun facts.
Back to the convention… during her acceptance speech she announced she had put the governor’s jet up for sale on ebay. And she went city to city, and kept saying it like it was an awesome achievement. “I said I don’t need no stinking luxury jet! Ebay! Woo! Yeah! Ebay!”
She had me convinced. Convinced she’s addicted to ebay, that is.
Now she just needs to tell us all what she buys on ebay. This is what we really want to know. Who cares about political experience? Let’s talk online auctions, kids and lipstick. Better yet, she needs to sit down with Barbara Walters. That’s how you win an election.
Every great leader has had a love for auctions. That’s how Teddy got his guns. And that’s how Nixon got rid of those pesky documents. That didn’t work out too well for him. But Gerald Ford didn’t come around until he was his 90’s. And once he got started he couldn’t stop. He bought a steel building (on ebay) and used it to store all of his purchases. He was on the site every day, so he eventually ran out of storage space. And that’s when his heart gave out. It’s sad. His hand was still holding the mouse when they found him, face down on the keyboard. Then his wife had to auction off everything.
I wish I could relate to Palin, I really do, but among many things she’d have to suddenly realize the importance of Roe v. Wade and our right to privacy. As far as abortion is concerned, do you think someone like me with a bunch of kids has ever considered it? But it’s comforting to know the option is there. You take that away, and what’s next? Tampon machines in rest rooms? Noooooo!
But I still heart Governor Palin, because she’s a woman with a bunch of kids and a love for the elk jerky. With a little luck from the masses and a big kiss from heaven, perhaps she could become president some day. If she doesn’t want to wait as long as Bush Senior did, after “helping” McCain win the election she should keep praying to that Republican God, and maybe (if she prays it will be God’s will) the grim reaper will bump him up to the top of the list.
What? You don’t really think she has any strategy, do you? She IS the strategy.
Yes, it’s that simple. Some day she could be the first president to put Air Force One up for sale on ebay.
