Welcome
Pro Status
No Expiration
Help Decide
Archive Calendar
Blogroll
No Expiration
Written on February 26th, 2010
Pipe down, everyone. Don’t go rushing to agree with me just yet–let me explain WHY, specifically, I suck.
You know the story about the killer whale that grabbed his trainer by the head and killer her? I suck because I am disappointed there is no video of the attack.
Seriously, I’m all bummed and shit.
What sort of monster would want to see that??
THIS sort. **points to self**
I just saw video of the whale playing with the trainer seconds before the attack, and I’m sure whoever took it is kicking themselves for turning the camera off, but who knew he was gonna grab the poor girl’s ponytail and drag her under??
Written on February 24th, 2010
I heard an advertisement on the radio for Belterra Casino. My parents go there all the time and just love it, so I was listening to the super special weekend package deal they have going on.
Two nights stay, free dinner, all the gambling you can manage, and complimentary drinks. Pretty sweet. I think they have a decent golf course, too, which is why my dad digs it but it’s too cold to play now. But, this package deal is “sure to please the lady in your life.” I can promise that it would NOT please me, and here is why:
Belterra thinks the BIG draw is the entertainment. Usually they have some pathetic band like Sha Na Na or Three Dog Night (seriously), but not this weekend!!! This weekend they have the comedic stylings of the one and only Vicki Lawrence!!! She will be performing a “two” woman show–as in, the first half of the show will be her as herself, sharing her undoubtedly sidesplitting humor. But the second half…..wait for it!!!….the second half she will perform as “Mama,” from the hit 80’s tv show “Mama’s Family!”
Christ, I can’t think of anything I would rather do less. I hated that show–it, and I Love Lucy are my all time least favorite programs. And, it’s depressing to think that she is resurrecting this stupid character and dusting off the lame wig and rolled down knee high stockings for a shitty gig at Belterra.
Some entertainers just don’t know when to quit.
Speaking of which, the guy who is now being called the “star” of Growing Pains has gone missing. No, not Kirk Cameron, but they guy who played his dopey friend, “Boner.” His family fears he has hurt himself. Cameron issued a statement saying, “Call me, man. Mike and Boner could always get through anything!”
I’m thinking if I were seriously depressed and wandering around trying to decide when and where to off myself, the last thing I would want to be reminded of is my ONE acting gig from thirty years ago. Nice going, Kirk.
Written on February 23rd, 2010
I believe Westy was one of the first “friends” I had on JS, and I have loved her for years. She was one of the first on board here at KCL and has been invaluable to Matt. She is always willing to lend a hand with layouts and whatnot, and she always has something kind to say to everyone.
Westy, dollface, I hope this is the best year you ever had. For sure it will be different, but I hope you look back on this year as the one where you put yourself first and found happiness and satisfaction.
Happy Birthday.
Written on February 22nd, 2010
We went to Kroger this morning, before the rain settled in. There is this one bagger that I get a big kick out of so I usually go to the aisle where he is working.
Normally, he just hums. It’s sort of a barbershop-style singing…you know, the “boom boom bum boom boom” and he does it incessantly. It cracks me up.
But today, ah, today was different.
Today he was talking a blue streak about, I think, the Olympics. It was as if Geo landed himself a part-time job.
This is not EXACTLY what he said to me, and to anyone within earshot, including the beleaguered cashier (who apparently had heard all the shit she wanted to listen to for one day, thank you very much) but it is pretty close. I am not going to use punctuation at all, so that you can get a better idea of his rambling:
That is why the Chinese hate us because over here you got the Canadians and the Greeks with their gymnastics and once they turn their head one time all of a sudden America beats the Canadians and the Chinese have no one to blame but themselves because if it weren’t for Northern Ireland and Scotland there wouldn’t even BE basketball and the US couldn’t win at hockey either so the Chinese get all mad because the Canadians threw the game and they were hoping that Greece would win because of all the oil.”
Unfortunately, I only had a few groceries so I got out of there pretty quick, but not until I had caught the eye of the cashier and she, in turn, rolled her eyes at me and sort of gave a nod in the dude’s direction. I guess she had been listening to this kind of thing for hours, and it probably lost it’s charm pretty quickly, but I would be happy to listen for a little while longer. I love crazy people.
Written on February 21st, 2010
I don’t know, y’all. She is Troy’s cousin, after all. AND she is being a big show off about what a hot shit cook she is.
See here, Kristi! We don’t cotton to your highfalutin* ways around here!!!
Kidding. 
Welcome to the nuthouse.
I did not make some fancy shmancy cous cous today, but I did make a batch of less than superior yeast rolls. I have a pork roast that didn’t thaw in time for dinner, so I will make it tomorrow. It has a lot of fat on it, and a big bone (cues the guys to start laughing about “big bones”) but I will see what I can do. I prefer pork loin, but Matt bought it and I will see if I can’t make it edible.
In other news, if you haven’t signed up for the Death Pool, you should totally do it soon. I am positive that my choice of Jon Gosselin is a winner, and DO NOT believe that damned Steve when he says he picked him first. You know how HE is. Always trying to act like he was the one who thought of every good idea. **rolls eyes**
In still OTHER news, today was my second day on Chantix. Yesterday tripped me out, and it was not cool. I quit doing drugs years ago because I did not want to feel out of control (obviously, I am talking about hallucinogenics and not perfectly good narcotics.) I literally felt like I was about to start tripping yesterday morning, and believe me, I know me some trippin. I’ve only eaten about a thousand hits of acid or so in my day (long, long ago, but still. I remember.) Anyway, today was better, and it’s weird how it is working. I actually have to remind myself to smoke, but my doctor said it was important that I DO smoke for the first two weeks. I think I will make it one week, and be done with it. I’m tired of being a smoker. God, what a bunch of losers we are. Those of you who never smoked, or those who quit once and for all, be grateful.
Peace out, everyone. Hope you had a good weekend.
*can y’all believe “highfalutin” was actually on the spell check???
Written on February 19th, 2010
I went to Sam’s Club today, and was standing in line at the snack bar for a coke. The guy in front of me ordered a sweet tea. When told they didn’t have sweet tea, he ordered a Diet Coke.
Big deal, right? The guy wants sweet tea, doesn’t want to fuck with having to sweeten it himself, so he gets a Diet Coke. Whatever.
BUT!
The guy BEHIND me turned to his wife and goes, “Did you just hear that??? That guy ordered a sweet tea and when they didn’t have it he got a COKE! What sense does that make??”
She mumbled something, probably along the lines of, “Shut the hell up, jackass.”
I stood there in the middle, minding my own business (as usual.)
It should have ended there. Dude in front got his drink and was happy, and it was MY turn to order. But no. Jackass behind me won’t let the shit go.
“Who DOES that?” he asked, loudly. “Who goes from sweet tea to Coke???”
The guy in front of me stopped right beside him and said, “Do you have a problem?”
Dickhead in back goes, “I just think it’s stupid for you to hold up the line for half an hour while you kept changing your mind.”
Guy in front goes, “It took two seconds.”
Guy in back goes, “We’ve been standing here for thirty minutes waiting on you to get your damned drink and I bet SHE is mad as hell about it, too!”
I shouldn’t have turned around. I should have done what I always do, which is…say it with me…mind my own business (as usual.)
But, turn around I did.
I said, “Dude, it took about two seconds and if you would shut the hell up I could go about the business of ordering MY drink and we can all get on with our lives.”
The guy in front laughed and walked away.
Dude behind me said, “Yeah, right.”
The girl at the counter looked scared, and I didn’t blame her. The guy was clearly a loose cannon. I wish I could have stuck around and helped her out, but that guy was such an ass I decided to go elsewhere for my Diet Coke–like our fridge. I was afraid he would start yelling again and I didn’t want him to scare Brad.
What the hell is wrong with some people???
Written on February 18th, 2010
We are kicking so much ass in Vancouver.
I LOVE that the snowboarders are wearing plaid flannel. Awesome.
I love the Flying Tomato, and I love that he is cool with such a nickname. I suspect that guy is cool with just about anything, except a cashed bowl.
Off subject, I need a laugh. Dear friends, please band together in an effort to crack me up today. I am so goddamned tired of winter and am beginning to get depressed. I’m ready to be at the beach.
Written on February 17th, 2010
Sign me up for Team Sarah.*
I hate all politicians equally–don’t care what side they are on or what they claim to be able to do. I despise their arrogance and their bullshit and that is why I rarely engage in discussions about politics. Yes, I will laugh if something funny is posted, but funny is funny, folks, and I am not taking sides.
Now, this episode of The Family Guy (which I also hate, and have seen maybe twice and never even cracked a grin) has an adult Down’s Syndrome child who says her mother used to be the governor of Alaska.
BULL-SHIT.
That is fucked up and wrong, and shame on the morons who produce that idiotic show.
There are things that are off limits, and handicapped children are one of them, you asses. Hate Sarah Palin all you fucking please, but leave her son out of it.
Jesus Christ, I am ashamed of myself for even seeing a little clip on Inside Edition. That kind of low brow “humor” is retarded BEYOND Down’s and I hope everyone involved in that little joke is ashamed of themselves.
Sarah Palin is still a politician, whether she admits it or not, which means I don’t like her. BUT, as a mother, I totally commiserate with her in how it must feel to have your handicapped child made fun of for the pleasure of a bunch of dipshits who think that kind of crap is funny.
Shame on you, Family Guy. BOOOO! That shit was not funny, and was damn near the tackiest thing I have seen on tv, and I watch E! regularly.
Assholes.
*not voting for her, just sayin, is all.
Written on February 16th, 2010
A few years ago I was at work in a nearby restaurant when I was suddenly accosted by two of my co-workers. I had just been sitting there, minding my own business as usual, when these jackasses dumped water and flour on me. They would probably give a different version of the story, but who are you gonna believe??
Anyway, one of the guys was Thad, who infamously shot a load in his own eye. It was his lazy eye, too, which made it all the funnier.
So I plotted and schemed to come up with the perfect revenge. Matt tried to help me, but his plan was a total disaster and didn’t work at all. No, I was on my own, and would have to rely on my wits. That is sort of like Jon Gosselin having to rely on his character, so clearly this was going to be a challenge.
I can’t remember what made me think of the perfect plan, but oh my, it was brilliant: one day I wrote “5-4-4″ on a scrap of paper and stuck it in Thad’s apron pocket. I made sure to seem as though I was being slick, like I didn’t want him to know I had done it, but it had to be obvious enough that he WOULD notice immediately. He had been kind of antsy for a few days, because he KNEW I would get him back for the flour/water debacle, and when he reached in to see what I had put in his apron he had an expression of horror as if he expected to find a lit firecracker or a black widow. Instead, he found the slip of paper.
He opened it, read it, and all but scratched his head in confusion.
“544?” he puzzled. “What the fuck does that mean?”
I honestly answered, “Nothing.”
“No, for real, what does it mean?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” I advised.
From that moment on, poor Thad was almost pitiful in his paranoia. His lazy eye would scan the restaurant for hidden booby traps or unseen enemies. The more agitated he became about 5-4-4, the nicer I acted. I would hand him a perfectly good glass of iced tea, and say, “Here, man. You thirsty?” and he would recoil.
“Take it, dummy! There’s nothing wrong with it. I just thought you might want something to drink. Jeez.”
He would reluctantly take the glass, and sniff it. He would claim that it smelled weird, and he’d dump it in the sink.
I was careful to never actually mention “544″ again, because he was so intent on discussing it at every opportunity.
“C’mon, what is it? Is it how you’re gonna get me back?” he’d beg.
“It’s nothing, sweetie. Seriously. Don’t worry about it,” I’d say, with a gentle pat to his cheek.
One day after Halloween I gift wrapped two fun-sized candy bars, complete with ribbon, and took them to the restaurant for Thad and his homie Josh. I handed them each the little package, and said, “Here guys! I know it’s your favorite kind. Well, gotta go! See ya later!” and left.
I heard from other co-workers that they examined the candy bars with the intensity of a CIS agent, until Josh swore he found a needle hole in his. They promptly threw the candy bars away, certain that I had tried to kill them.
Our boss told us that he had heard that if you put Visine in someone’s food or drink, it would kill them. We all debated whether or not it was true. I couldn’t imagine that a few eye drops would actually KILL someone, but it was still fun to think about, and wonder who we could do it TO. Anyway, Thad and Josh went out that same night and got very, very high. So high, in fact, they were more paranoid than usual and went into a gas station to get some eye drops so their eyes might be less red.
They bought the drops, and went back to their car where they took turns putting it in their eyes.
Still high, Josh was casually examining the bottle, and to his horror noticed a number stamped on the bottom.
A serial number, I guess, or batch number, but can anyone guess what the number was???
That’s right kids. 544.
An absolute and total coincidence, but maybe the luckiest thing that ever happened to me.
The versions of WHO actually burst into tears would depend on who was telling the story, but Josh swore up and down that Thad literally started crying. Thad, of course, would say that Josh did, too.
I’m still not sure what they thought the Visine was going to do to them, since they DID only apply it as directed, but it still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy to picture those dipshits crying in a gas station parking lot. To this day, every time I see Thad he mentions 544 and wonders if the Visine was REALLY it, or if there was more to it. I always just say, “544 was nothing,” and quickly change the subject. He looks disappointed, as if he NEEDS to be told that justice had been served and that he no longer has to look over his shoulder.
It makes my happy to know that for every bad, or inconvenient thing that will befall Thad for the rest of his days, he will wonder if it is 544. I like to think that as he breaths his last, he will shake his fist and curse me and my 544 aloud.
Written on February 15th, 2010
It is my habit to leave the ringer off the phone, but check occasionally to see who has called. I don’t know why I’m so weird about talking on the phone–I used to enjoy chatting for hours on end, but no more. Now when the phone rings, I automatically say, “I don’t want to talk.” I say that before I even know who it is. Matt or the girls will lie for me and say I am in the shower or something. It’s nothing personal to anyone who may be calling–it’s my hang up and I know I’m a weirdo.
So I’ve been checking the caller id for the last four days, and the last number it shows is Eff Stop. He called on Thursday night. Friday came and went without a single missed call, as did Saturday and Sunday.
Suddenly, the tables were turned! Instead of ME being all, “I simply can’t talk right now–I’m far too busy and absorbed in my thoughts” it appeared that everyone else had grown tired of my laziness and quit calling.
Then, of course, I wanted nothing more than for the phone to ring and I would have happily chatted with a telemarketer just so that I would feel wanted.
Ahhh, BUT! When the school called and left a message that school was closed today, the robotic operator informed me that we had SIX new messages! SIX! While none of the numbers were showing up on caller id, people HAD called, and yes, left messages that I did not receive. There was an ecstatic call from Luna, telling me she had been offered the job. There was a call from Puppy, who was at home due to snow. My brother had called and left one of his famous twenty minute messages. Matt’s cousin called to let us know the date of a baby shower had been changed. My friend Sarah wondered if we wanted to get together Saturday night.
So, now that I know we have not been forsaken and some people are still willing to reach out to us, I can turn the ringer off again….happy that phone calls are now and forevermore on MY terms.
I realize it’s just a matter of time before our friends get sick of my shit and scratch our number from their address books, or delete our names from their cell phones. When that happens, I will have to go on the offensive, and call every single friend of ours and be all, “Hey! How’s it going?” just to get myself back in their good graces.
In the meantime, we have to get a new phone that has working caller id. I need to know who I am ignoring, you see.
Evilfury