Feeble Gust of Wind Perturbed by Bigger, Stronger Gust

29 04 2009

Earlier today around 4:03 PM PST, a feeble gust of wind was awestruck when a mighty gust  of wind swiftly blew by.

When questioned, the feeble gust seemed shocked and  shaken. “I just don’t know what the fuck happened out there?! I had my sights set on this tiny cluster of calico cat hair. I moved a dust bunny the size of a golf ball once, but this was a grand opportunity.  Anyways,  I was going to loft it up about three feet, drop it an inch above the ground, and spin it for a bit, and then – whoosh! Just outta nowhere this rude-ass fuckin’ gust of wind sent it swirling over the rooftop — and it left me twirling in the corner by this decrepit shed. What is this world coming to?”

A few hours later, that same mighty gust was apprehended for “messin’ with wind chimes.”

By then, the feeble gust found solace as it huffed an eggy fart cloud — courtesy of some kid in a ball cap — through a crowded farmer’s market.

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Teeny Smiley Face – Buggin’ Me Out

22 08 2008

There’s a teeny smiley face, chillin’ in the upper right corner of my blog, and it’s buggin’ me out – big time. I’ve been staring at it for over an hour.

It’s winked at me twice. I tried to scare it off with a pair of “hi-chi-style” karate chops, and followed up with a thrusting knee. It didn’t flinch.

Then it double winked – both eyes, same time (damn that’s a spook-fest) then regained its sinister smile.

It’ll come and go, but never stay gone. I refreshed the page and it moved. The fucker moved! It’s planning something…. Maybe it wants to play. Maybe it wants to play patty-cake. I don’t do patty-cake – not any more. I’m through with all that – through! Through damn it! Through!

I know it’s planning something… something big. I don’t know what, but shits going down.

I just waved. Nothing. Same sinister smile. No winks this time… Wait… nope, same sinister smile.

Maybe it wants to fight? I know some sweet moves, (as mentioned above) but it’s got nothing on my “360 roundhouse” – nothing. I get on the couch, yell into oblivion, kick forward, belch, raise a fist high, spit, shimmy, and then spin into a 360 degree roundhouse. It’s highly effective.

What an idiot, this smiley face. Wait… What the? It just rotated, and double winked, right, then left… and what’s that smell? That’s it. I want it outta here… outta here, now. I’m bringin’ my dogs out…





Remember Those Gaps in My Employment History? Gone!

30 07 2008

Back in the glory days of college when booze flowed like sweat trickling down summer’s hot ‘n staunchy armpit, not every day was saturated with humidity, but every day seemed to breed something a little sweaty.

During this phenomenal realm of buffoonery there were no jobs, no interviews, no shirts-tucked-in, no offices, no 9 to 5 with the incredible 10 to 6 flex, no bullpuckey questions from the ultimate agitators – HR. “If I was your manager, what type of relationship would we have? I want to learn about you. Can you tell me about the you that is you… the real you within, that is? (What I look for most in a supervisor is someone that will stand tall when I unleash an uppercut into their loins. Someone I can say “fuck off” to with a point and a smile when they ask me to engage in a pointlessly tedious task… all that good stuff.)

… and were back.

In the all-encompassing awesomeness of college, the time was merely now and that now was profoundly invigorating. Booties were shakin’, the earth was quakin’ and my only true worry was crispin’ the bacon.

Peeps would get hammed… Real hammered, and shit would break, and holes would suddenly form in the walls. (I remember the landlord, that nosey fuck of all fucknugs. He’d say, let me handle those types of situations. You let me know if something gets broken. Why? So you can los-jackos-the-rent when you’re done? No thanks, shitface. I got this one.)

Any hole in the wall was plastered with 18 tubes of tartar control toothpaste atop particle board – dappled with peppermint flavor crystals.

Those, truly were the days, but enough reminiscing. One can only look so far into to the past without delving into a gaping cre-vass.

Today’s days are now, and today’s days must include some sort of continuous income… but how? For months, I’ve waddled in this as if a penguin caught in an updraft of heinously chilled winds… and then it hit me – a profound revelation!

Perhaps the resume needs stitching… Patch up those gaps in your employment history like you were corking up the core of the earth (and porkin’ that whore from Fort Worth.)

Check out this heinous gap…

Unemployed: May 2007 – Present…

  • nothing
  • muffin
  • no wait… nothing

What happened there? Seems like a whole lot of nothing…. wait…. What’s that? WHAPOW! That gap just got sealed up something fierce, my friend! Shit was getting done during that time – for real. Those were productive times indeed.

Here’s what really went down (wink, nudge… roundhouse to the forehead, point)

EMployed: May 2007 – Present.

  • doin’ it
  • and doin’ it
  • and doin’ it, yeah!

(Wait… Where?)

What?

(Where? and what did you accomplish?)

What on earth are you asking – “where”…  “accomplish”? Are you with HR? That gap is my employment history is long gone, and that’s all you need to know.

And just as that atrocious gap has poofed into oblivion, so have the glory days of college. They are no more, but a mere memory. They are no more, but a gargantuan hole in the wall: patched up and smoothed over with rich, fresh and ever-so-prosperous peppermint flavor crystals.





I Reject Your Cake with Authority

2 07 2008

I don’t enjoy cake and that’s the scoop. It’s sticky. It’s sweet. It’s loaded with sugary shards of slop, and I’m not into it at all. So, if you choose to offer me a piece, I will kindly say, no thank you.

Naturally, you will insist and ask again… don’t be shy, have some cake… It’s really good! I’m sure you think it is, but I don’t. So, go ahead and ask me again, like you always do.

Try the cake, it’s simply divine! No thank you, I’m all set… More cake for everyone else!!!

Don’t get me wrong, even though I don’t enjoy cake, I’ll be there to celebrate your b-day, say “congrats” or “you’re the fuckin’ best”, but if you ask me a 3rd time, that sickening slice of chocolate cake is goin’ upside ya head with authority.

If you insist, but a fourth time, then not only will I reject your cake with authority – you’re getting dropped kicked across the fuckin’ room, bounced off the wall and into the cake.

No matter what kind of cake your offering, I’m just not interested – even if your little granny foo foo whipped up her award-winning recipe.





I’m Gettin’ Amped for 5 Bucks a Gallon!

28 05 2008

Truth be known, unemployment doesn’t pay well, and if you’re almost 500 days deep, it doesn’t pay at all. That’s why I’ve been riggity-rackin’ my brain, trying to figure out how to get less MPG’s on my cruise-mobile. Might as well answer an “up yours” with an “up yours, truly”, when we’re lookin’ at $5 a gallon this summer. So, let’s suck the teet off the mother’s teet ’til it dribbles gasoline – then we’ll have ourselves something worth paying for.

I roll in a very fuel efficient ride.  I can easily top 35 MPG’s, but I know, with a lot of hard work (chuckle), I can slice that in half (just like when yooze collectin’ unemployment!) I’ve got a plan, and some tips to share…

3 Easy Steps to Reduce Your MPG’s in One Tank or Less

1.) Add three tons of lead to your trunk, a trailer in tow and fully deflate all tires (Feeling ambitious? Remove hood and doors for added wind-resistance.)

2.) Keep windows down and A/C on full blast at all times.

3.) Rev like you’ve never revved before… always.

Follow these three tips and you’ll see your MPG’s diminish faster than the price of gasoline rising!

Even better, you’ll be thankin’ your lucky stars that good ole G Dubya sent you 6 stylin’ Benjamins. (What a guy, clap, clap, clap… bummer ’bout that whole 8 year thing. You’ve done awesome. So awesome, you’re far stanker than 50 bucks a gallon!)

So, cash in those 6 stylin’ Benny’s, treat yourself to a gallon of gas, hit up the grocery store, spend the rest on this week’s lunch and before you know it, you’ll be just as amped as I am about 5 bucks a gallon.





You’re Going to Need a Whole Lot of Gas, If You’re Building a Business with Farts

3 05 2008

As gas prices tickle the $4 realm – those looking to build a business with farts may be in the money. The time is now to cash in quick by rippin’ foul and furious farts. Why rely on foreign influences when you can rip glorious gas clouds in your car, home and office?

3 Tips for Success:

1.) The wind is your enemy.
Whether you’re rippin’ farts, waftin’ farts or baskin’ within a stank fart cloud; a lofty gust of wind can whisk away your entire fart supply in one fellow swoop. Protect your farts in bottles or cans or freezer bags… and for the love of mankind – don’t let a wispy breeze deplete your entire fart supply.

2.) Think cheesy thoughts, and crank out more farts then you possibly fathomed.
Fiber, cheese and wheat provide incredibly fierce fart power. Tap into your local cheese supply and start scarfing it all down – cheddar, American, swiss, parmesan, Gouda, groo-yair, gorgonzola – you name it… and don’t forget the 12 grain wheat bread. (add more rotten with broccoli)

3.) Turn egg farts into gold, and cabbage farts into silver and bronze.

This is easier than you think, yet so few try. Gather up a frenzy of cheap jewelry, and bring it to the kitchen. Leave it on the counter and begin making breakfast. (If you’ve gotten mega hammered the night before on wheat beer and eaten pizza and/or burritos, then you’re ahead of the game.)

To Begin: Create a fart-o-rific four egg omelet… add rich cream, all the cheeses mentioned above, broccoli, ham, steak, 1/2 cup whole milk, more heavy cream, a pound of white american cheese (must be white), week old cabbage and 1 cup of hot sauce. Cook, consume and wait for a barrage of farts to come trumpeting out.

After you’ve ripped a category five hurricane of farts in your kitchen – remember that cheap jewelry you gathered? Well have a look at it… you’ll find a collection of gold, silver and bronze – all thanks to those egg and cabbage farts!





Kevin Youkilis Enrolls in New England School of Wizardry

1 05 2008

After decades of pondering, Red Sox slugger, Kevin Youkilis enrolls in the New England School of Wizardry.

In a recent interview Youk began with, “I’ve always felt wizard-ish, and thought how great it would be to become a wizard. Many confuse me with famous wizards on a daily basis. So, I figured I might as well check it out and just make it happen… and you can’t beat those starry-pointed hats.” While commenting, Youk’s goatee morphed into a fuzzy bunny with fangs, then a savage coyote, and then back into a traditional goatee.

Although Youk’s new hobby will be hands-on-acts-of-wizardry, he has no intention of leaving the Red Sox anytime soon. “These past few years were incredible. The fans are amazing. It would be great to really give them something magical. If I could loft 50, 60 or even a 100 more dingers over the monster each year by nudging my chin towards the stands with a bit of wizardry, then why not?”

When asked whether or not obtaining his wizardry degree would interfere with baseball – Youk disappeared, and then reappeared eating cotton candy with a chagrin smile. He disappeared once more and was supposedly sighted floating above center field, and wafting his bat as if conducting a symphony.