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Monday, September 29, 2008

Life is a Lemon and I Want My Money Back

Ah, Meatloaf.


You thought this was going to be some whiny emo post, didn't you? From me? Riiiight...


Who doesn't love Meatloaf? That is, anyone who's heard of him and doesn't think he's the gloppy red-sauced stuff they serve at nursing homes to people who've forgotten to put their pants on that morning.


Yipe.


It still amazes me, even at 26, how the next generation of kids think that Knockin' on Heaven's Door was a breakthrough Guns N' Roses creation (more recently an Avril Lavigne attempt at something palatable, for those too young to even know who Guns N' Roses is), Whip It was written by Disney, and Gene Simmons is that annoyingly gay Sweatin' to the Oldies dude.


Don't even get me started on Kid Bop. (I know, I know, but seriously - don't.) Or how many blatant Bob Dylan rip-offs there are running around there (besides Knockin' on Heaven's Door).


There's a new Metallica album out, Death Magnetic - and I have to place a disclaimer before I state my opinion of the one song I've heard off this thing (the Unforgiven III) - I love Metallica. L - O - V - E. With a capital *MUAH*.


.... but my God guys, are you even trying anymore? Metallica is to metal what Stephen King is to horror. King could write a crap novel in 10 seconds about a possessed transsexual broomstick that terrorizes people by rolling around goosing them in the bums, and still hit #1 on the bestseller list in a week - just like Metallica spun out this piece of crap, and will probably sell millions from the name alone. Does that make them any good? No.


James, Kirk, Lars, Robert - grow your hair back - it's been downhill ever since you lopped it off. Pleeeeaaase.... Just give it a try, what do ya say?


Until next time....


Thursday, September 25, 2008

Here's a Bunny With a Pancake on its Head

Yup, it's another round of deep thoughts.

Is it me, or are kids bigger than they used to be? Maybe the government should regulate the use of Miracle Grow on fruit and vegetable crops.

Does the Disney Channel have a secret laboratory somewhere where they create test-tube babies that are freakishly attractive, talented, bilingual, and marketable by the thousands?

Is George W.'s head lumpy from all those brain farts?

What's the deal with OLEO? Why the hell would someone actually market a product with a warning on the package containing the words "may cause anal leakage"? And who actually buys those products???

Speaking of anal leakage - if a gay man could fly, would his bum whistle?

Can you really see Russia from Alaska?

What were the Burger King ad execs smoking when they came up with the Burger King mascot?

Is it frightening that I'm 26 years old and enjoy watching Hannah Montana? Isn't it even weirder that I just posted that?

*shrug*

That's all for now.


Sunday, September 21, 2008

Quick, Hide the Google AdSense, Part 2

Where was I? Ah yes, porn.

Is there a factory somewhere deep in Arkansas that produces peroxide blond women with G-cup silicon boobs and too much lip liner, with their brains lobotomized so all they can say is "Ooooh," "Yeah," and, "Yes Mr. Johnson, I love pie."?

Yea, and plot lines. WHAT THE HELL? Did these people have to graduate from soap opera acting school before they were allowed to star in porn? Do they have one of Jerry's Kids back there writing scripts? It's PORN, people - plot lines in a porn is about as useful as a brain is to George W. Sure, it fills space - but does it really contribute to anything?

"Oh my, is there a fire?"
"Yes, there's a fire - it's in my pants."
Bow-chicka-wow-WHAT?

That's not sexy - it's retarded. If I were busty bimbo #72, I'd be too busy laughing to let Stripping Firefighter Guy into my house, let alone do things with him that might actually - for the love of God, no - produce offspring.

Forget watching this stuff for anything sexual - I want to see the bloopers. I want to see busty bimbo #72 get overzealous trying to put out the fire in Stripping Firefighter Guy's pants and get a black eye. Maybe even knock out a tooth. Or, "Mister Firefighter, your hose is SO bi - " *FART!* ...and you see footage of Iwogima getting nuked.

Now THAT'S entertainment.

...and that is also why I will never be allowed to be involved in any process of editing porn. Blue balls would abound - it would be total chaos.

Until next time...


Saturday, September 20, 2008

Quick, Hide the Google AdSense, Part 1

Anyone who's ever written online content knows that keywords are crucial. They help your content get listed in search engines, which brings traffic to your site. The more you use the same keyword in your post, the higher your ranking will be when someone googles that word.

Which brings me to my next subject - sex sells.

It's true! Mention the word "boobies" in one post and *BLAM!* - instant page views.

Granted, I think I may have disappointed a few people with that one, what with derailing their solo spank session and all - my bad.

....but - it made me think. Shaddup. Messing with people is a favorite hobby of mine, so let's go fishin'. *evil grin*

I learned first about sex from a series of uncomfortable conversations with my parents. For my own therapy's sake, I won't go into details. It's an unwritten rule of mental stability - parents and sex should never so much as be mentioned in the same sentence, let alone parents be allowed to mention sex - ever, under any circumstances - to their children.

Especially if any part of the conversation contains the phrase, "Your mother can be quite the wildcat."

@#$&%$$!!!??? OVERLOAD! OVERLOAD! GAG REFLEX ENGAGED, BRAIN TO SELF DESTRUCT IN T-MINUS 10 SECONDS......

This is the kind of thing that causes aneurysms later in life. You can try to suppress it, but it takes root somewhere in your brain and years later, when you least expect it -

*shudder*

Moving on.

I had Sex Ed in the 4th grade, and the only thing I can remember from that class was thinking,"How in the world can such an unattractive woman know so much about sex?"

XXX stores frighten me. All those battery-operated, smelly, vibrating things. So does porn. But that's a subject for the next post, since I've filled this one with traumatic anticdotes that will haunt me forever.

Yea, I'm not going to sleep tonight.

...to be continued....


Friday, September 19, 2008

...and I Shall Call Him George

I've gone another week without posting - I know, I know, shame on me. I'm running out of excuses, so I'll just leave you with this:

...Congratulations, you've just been mooned.

And there, I have accomplished two tasks at once - I've created content for a blog, and I've incorporated pictures into my blog. I've also made you endure one of the lamest attempt-at-a-joke puns ever known to man - but isn't that part of my job?

I bet you're now wondering what the hell the title of this post means. Yea - I don't know either. I know some of you suspect that I keep random retarded lines in a hat somewhere for inspiration on the days I have nothing to ramble about. For the record, I don't. I'm just insane.

Until next time...

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Conspiracy Theory #48 - Hereditary Insanity, part deux

Anyone who knows me personally and has ever met my parents knows that my Mother is a packrat and my Dad was a neat freak. You could tell immediately which corner of each room was my Dad's, because amongst the piles of books, paperwork, chip bags, and junk mail, would be a small, spotless space, where "there was a place for everything, and everything was in its place."

What does that mean for me?

I'm a packrat with OCD.

I keep everything, but I have an insanely large file cabinet (ok, eBay box, at the moment), full of bills, receipts, junk mail, and things my children bring home from school. I have stacks of books everywhere, but they're all in alphabetical order by size - and God help you if you put a cd or dvd back in its case without the title being straight and at the top. All dvd's are also in alphabetical order, by genre.

If you attempt to put my canned or boxed groceries away for me, I will hurt you - I have a system, dammit, and that system is not to be tampered with. I'd explain what the system is, but you wouldn't understand.

I keep shoe boxes. Why? I have no idea. But I do know that if I threw them away, I would need them for something. They're in neat stacks of 3 in my bedroom closet underneath my clothes, which are arranged by sleeve length, material, and color - all facing the same way on the hangers.

My children can dump toys all over the floor and I can stand it long enough for them to come home from school to clean it up - but if there's a B dvd in the M section, I will twitch until it's fixed. (Ok, not really, but it drives me crazy, at any rate)

What does all this mean for my girls? I have no idea, but considering that their Dad is a typical male who is okay with throwing anything just about anywhere, it doesn't look good. Being that there are two of them, it's possible that one will be a neat freak and the other will be the packrat.

Let's just hope they won't have to room together for long.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Birthday Bliss

First, my apologies for not posting more lately, but my house has been overrun with midgets and a satellite has intercepted my brain waves, making it painfully impossible to come up with anything original.

Yes, I'm reaching - sorry for that. Next.

Today's my birthday (thank you, thank you, hold your applause), and I'm now officially one year past a quarter of a century old.

Think it's time to start counting back yet? Or be 26 until I'm 80, riddled with Alzheimer's, and don't really give a shit if anyone knows how old I am (that is, if I an remember how old I am, what my name is, or if I put pants on that morning), as long as they're willing to cut up my nursing home meatloaf for me?

Ah, Alzheimer's. Oh come on - you know me, you can't say you really didn't see that one coming.

It's a horrible disease, but for the person who has it, it might actually be kind of cool.

Hear me out before you flag this blog, geez...

  • Every day is a brand new day.
  • When you see someone, it's like meeting them for the first time - and you can say something really, really tacky, and not have to feel bad about it later.
  • You can grab that hot mail person's bum and not get slapped in the face - every day.
  • You can forget your pants and no one can say a thing about it.
  • You can flip off little kids and get away with it, as long as you're smiling while you do it.
  • Even if you have to eat nursing home meatloaf every day for the rest of your life, you'll never get tired of it because you won't remember that you've had it every day for the last 3 years.
  • You can leave your house wearing nothing but a raincoat, a shower cap, a flip flop and a snow shoe, and just like the sans-pants thing - no one can say a word.
  • There's no endless guilt trip when you forget your anniversary or your wife's birthday.
  • If you get bored of a conversation you can just let your eyes wander into space and whoever is talking to you will leave you alone - no questions asked.
  • On the same note, you could interrupt them with,"Oh my, it's so nice to have company. My name is (insert name), what's your's?" or even just "Where the hell am I, who the hell are you, and where the hell are my pants?"

So, sick and demented as it may be, there are just a few of the things that might be great about memory loss. Of course, you wouldn't remember those experiences to be able to appreciate them... But the thought is a bit fun.

Until next time...

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Deep Thoughts


That’s right folks, it’s out with the mindless trash talking and in with this round of memorable quotes & conversations you really didn’t want to walk in on the middle of - Reality Challenged style.


**Writer cannot be held accountable for sudden bouts of nausea or sinus cavity damage from spewing carbonated beverages through your nose.

Memorable Quotes:
“Seriously - he could be in a dead sleep and I’d lay down in bed and he’d roll over and start humping my leg - that’s why I wouldn’t let the kids sleep between us.” -LM

“Momma, are squids those big pointy things with testicles?”
“No honey, that’s called a man.” -HL & NS

“She pays in pu**y - not to be confused with pesos.” -CC

“Don’t spew your coffee out your nose yet, let me get my camera first!” -LM

Conversations you really didn’t want to walk in on the middle of:
“…she sharted on herself, so she like yanks me behind her and tells me to stay right there, and I was on poop patrol and I was like, ‘It’s ok Mom, I got ya covered.’” *sings Mission Impossible theme* “I am the poop detective.” -JC

“…ain’t nothing’ comin’ near my face if it smells like pee - I’ll take a Q-tip to that phucker if I have to.” -LM

“…hold on, I got my mouth full of camel right now.” -SH

“…he just rolls it up, and it actually stays there.” - SC

I know, I know - it’s not the most impressive list this time, but I’ve been busy doing damage control and derailing imbeciles the last couple of months, so my time has been pretty much monopolized by that and my memory capacity for the redundant was pretty well filled up.

...and yes, it's another lazy day....

Friday, September 05, 2008

Conspiracy Theory #982 - Useless Movie Quotes

I don't know about you, but I can't remember half of what I learned in history class. I can't remember the passages from Romeo and Juliet, Ceasar, or Beowulf that we were forced to memorize in highschool. And I have no idea what our guest speakers were blabbing about at graduation.

I can, however, remember in great detail every movie quote that ever made me giggle. AND, I can annoy any unfortunate individual in my presence with them on cue.

You see this one coming already, don't you?

Don't sit there and pretend you don't do it too. Seriously, just who are you trying to fool?

Yes, it's another list. So sue me.


"I do have a test today. that wasn't bullshit. It's on European socialism. I mean, really, what's the point? I'm not European. I don't plan on being European. So who cares if they're socialists? They could be fascist anarchists. It still doesn't change the fact that I don't own a car. Not that I condone fascism, or any -ism for that matter. -Ism's in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism, he should believe in himself. I quote John Lennon, "I don't believe in The Beatles, I just believe in me." Good point there. After all, he was the walrus. I could be the walrus. I'd still have to bum rides off people."

--- Ferris Beuller


....Hmm, I don't think he was bitter about not getting a car, do you?


"Men, you are about to embark on a great crusade to stamp-out runaway decency in the west. Now, you will only be risking your lives, whilst I will be risking an almost certain Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor."

--- Hedley Lamar, Blazing Saddles


"I ran out of gas. I had a flat tire. I didn't have enough money for cab fare. My tux didn't come back from the cleaners. An old friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake! A terrible flood! Locusts! It wasn't my fault, I swear to god!"

--- Jake Blues, the Blues Brothers


"DOG POO??? THAT'S AWESOME!"

--- Bubble Boy


Richard Vernon: False alarms are really funny, aren't they. What if your home, what if your family . . . what if your dope was on fire?
John Bender: Impossible, sir. It's in Johnson's underwear.

--- the Breakfast Club


"When you think of garbage, think of Akeem."

--- Prince Akeem, Coming to America


Buttercup: We'll never survive.
Westley: Nonsense, you're only saying that because no one ever has.

--- the Princess Bride


"We're in the middle of bumfudged nowhere and 'you shore do got a purdy mouth'."

--- Tom, Without a Paddle


"...so not only does he give us directions - my man drew us a MAP."

--- Keitz, Bulletproof


"Human thought is so primitive, it's looked upon as an infectious disease in some of the better galaxies. That kind of makes you proud, doesn't it?"

--- K, Men in Black

In case you were wondering, yes I am having a lazy day today - what of it? :)

Until next time...

Thursday, September 04, 2008

Conspiracy Theory #331- "Poetic Liberties"

In the world of fiction, generally a writer will create alter egos for themselves and do little more than change the names of their friends in their stories, and all are based (though sometimes very loosely) on actual events.


That disclaimer you see in front of movies and television shows that says all characters and situations are complete works of fiction and any similarities to real life people or events are merely coincidental - IT'S A LIE.


Don't believe me? Allow me to provide you with examples.


***All content herein is merely a reflection of insanity deep within the mind of the writer. Any statement that proves to be fact in the future cannot be held against said writer. But I will say I told you so.***


1. I agree with Dave Chapelle's theory about the Count on Sesame Street. Clearly someone had an uncle who was a pimp in the 70's - who else would wear a garish purple suit and rejoice over counting so much? The cape confuses me a little, unless said person's pimp uncle was also a cokehead and thought he could fly...


2. Mr. Clean. I'll just say someone had a crush on Ving Rhames.



3. The Wayans brothers in Hot Chicks. Hmmm, Dennis Rodman, anyone? Ok, minus the basketball. And the fact that the Wayans brothers are undercover agents in the movie and Dennis Rodman could never pull off anything undercover, considering he couldn't even pull off being in the closet.

Yipe.

Which brings me to another random thought - Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus - and Dennis Rodman is from Uranus.

Yea, moving on.

4. Ozzy Osbourne in Little Nicky. Er, Ozzy Osbourne. Ok I just had to mention Ozzy because he's awesome. Even when Sharon tries to desecrate his concerts with bubbles. "I'm the phucking Prince of Dahkness Sharon, and you want me to put BUBBLES in my CONCERT???"

Ahaha, good stuff.

5. Karen in Mean Girls. Sure, she was pretty, but dumb as a rock and so proud of herself for her ability to put her whole fist in her mouth. Shave her head and put an umbrella in her hand and she's Britney Spears. Next.

6. The Pillsbury Dough Boy. Marlon Brando? "I'll give you an offer you can't refuse.... You gonna eat that?"

7. Johnny Depp in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I'm not sure who this character was modeled after (it's definitely a far cry from Gene Wilder's lovable character in the original), but it's just beyond creepy. He's like the 2nd cousin at family reunions that everyone avoids and hides their children from.

Johnny Depp dropped about 100 points on the hotness meter for women around the globe thanks to this character. Good job, Tim Burton.

That's all for now, but you can bet this one will be popping up again.

Until next time....

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

ConspiracyTheory #769 - Ninja Readers

Ok, I've been paying close attention to my page views the last few weeks - and my page views are jumping, but I'm getting no comments.

Not even anonymous. Not even hate filled, misspelled pre-menstrual rants.

I began to wonder why no one was compelled to respond to my mindless posts anymore.

I know what you're thinking, "Oh God, not another list - PLEASE."

Yoink.

I've thought long and hard about this folks, and since I spend so much time mulling over it, I felt obligated to share with all of you.

Once again, if you hated it that much, you wouldn't still be here, now would you?

Theories as to why no one comments on my posts anymore:

Nobody loves me. I'm not Emo, and I'm just too darn likable. Scratch that one.

Everyone in the world has lost Internet access. Well, I live in BFE and I still have mine, plus online porn is still going strong, so that can't be it. No, I will not add a porn section to this blog. Perverts. You know who you are.

All my readers have found better things to do with their time. Ha ha, that's funny. Next.

I use too many big words and there are no illustrations to help along. Okay, except in reference to a couple of people, I'm just kidding on that one. Besides, do you REALLY want to see pictures pertaining to stupid people, Greenpeace advocates, and doggy potty training? Didn't think so. The bubble wrap could be fun, though - I'll have to work on that one.

My posts make no sense and my readers are too dumbfounded by the end of them to have anything to say. I'm not going to lie people, this is probably the most plausible of all of them.

My final theory, far-fetched as it may be:

I don't have a mascot. Seriously, if this is the reason, you the readers and I the writer will have some serious issues. Don't make me bring in Zed.

You see what you've done here? You've made me resort to blackmail. Leave comments or I will bring in the muse.

Be afraid, be very afraid.

Lol, I can't WAIT to see the Google ads that pop up for this one....
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