Whatever your political affiliation, THIS is funny. But in order to be fair (as required by the FCC Equal Opportunity in Bullshitting the Public Act) I must also say this...
CHAPPAQUIDICK!!!!!
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
And So I Will Dance For Thee
I have been remiss in posting this. My deepest apologies to all. Now, I have to get back to the fairyland...
Monday, August 06, 2007
I ate what?
I decided to give ol' shorschitt a gander and see how she was doing. Apparently Friday morning was an oatmeal and iced tea morning (the thought of drinking iced tea first thing in the morning makes me feel a little queasy. Yet I will drink hot tea right off and have absolutely no issue with it. Is it me, or do you feel the same way? Or am I being a beverage snob/freak?). She said she would rather be having eggs and bacon (now THAT is a breakfast I could eat every day of my life. If only Wifey would leave me some bacon. You can ask Larry the Upstairs Neighbor about that, he'll back me. When we make breakfast - usually on the weekend - and we are making bacon, we have to make 2 pounds of it because between her propensity to pile it on her plate and her need to make kamikaze runs into the kitchen while we are cooking in order to grab a couple of strips while cackling like a madwoman and shrieking "Bacon!! ALL FOR ME!!!!!!!!", we can go through some cured pork around here). But then she listed some other foods she would rather be eating. And here is the list...
Cucumber Kimchee
Turkisk Pebers
Li Hing Mui
Arare
Chichidango
Manju
Ika
I know exactly three of the words on that list. And one of them my father used to use as a euphemism for "shit" (he liked to say that someone was in deep kimchee. For that reason alone I will never be able to eat kimchee. Word association culinary edition is a bitch). Also, I am pretty sure that the third to last word is one of those Himilayan words used to describe the Yeti. And if it isn't, it should be.
I am going to keep checking out shorty's blog. If nothing else, I am going to learn some bitchin' new words.
BSR
Cucumber Kimchee
Turkisk Pebers
Li Hing Mui
Arare
Chichidango
Manju
Ika
I know exactly three of the words on that list. And one of them my father used to use as a euphemism for "shit" (he liked to say that someone was in deep kimchee. For that reason alone I will never be able to eat kimchee. Word association culinary edition is a bitch). Also, I am pretty sure that the third to last word is one of those Himilayan words used to describe the Yeti. And if it isn't, it should be.
I am going to keep checking out shorty's blog. If nothing else, I am going to learn some bitchin' new words.
BSR
It puts the lotion on its skin...
How come I never had neighbors like this? (thanks to www.fark.com for the link)
http://www.denverpost.com/lifestyles/ci_6544653
Also, while my opinion may change when I am a father, all I can think is that Dad is being a real dick. Hell, if I was him, I would be outside playing baseball with my kids EVERY DAMN DAY OF MY LIFE!
http://www.denverpost.com/lifestyles/ci_6544653
Also, while my opinion may change when I am a father, all I can think is that Dad is being a real dick. Hell, if I was him, I would be outside playing baseball with my kids EVERY DAMN DAY OF MY LIFE!
Friday, August 03, 2007
And so my minions grow
Soon my readership will reach double digits, and then the world will HAVE to acknowledge my brilliance! It seems that someone was randomly clicking on the "next blog" tab when the Blogger Lotto spit my page out. Of course Shorty immediately recognized my witty, urbane view of life as required reading (I hope to one day replace The Catcher in the Rye for "that book that your cool English teacher gave you to read that your parents and the establishment don't want you to". Of course, that means I would need to be collected into book form. Hey HarperCollins, you out there?). So welcome Shorty to the fold, and let's see how she does with her explorations of self flagellation. I know mine have brought you to me, and really, what else could I ask for.
http://shortschitt.blogspot.com/
I have a list of other things to ask for if anyone wants to know.
Not that you aren't important to me. Not at all. I am just a greedy bastard.
BSR
http://shortschitt.blogspot.com/
I have a list of other things to ask for if anyone wants to know.
Not that you aren't important to me. Not at all. I am just a greedy bastard.
BSR
Thursday, August 02, 2007
I have finally found my Sean Bean
I love Wifey. I would hope that this is known and completely understood. I know that Wifey loves me. Hell, at this point she would have to. However, she does like to rail on about how incredibly hot Sean Bean is (if you don't know who he is, look him up yourself. I have no desire to post beefcake pics of my wife's moist-inducing obsession). Now I do have subscriptions to Maxim and Stuff (and had one to FHM before it went teat's up. Pun intended), but the pictures of scantily clad women is really more of a pleasant bonus to the magazines themselves to me. If I was 14, maybe those pics would be enough, but as a 34 year old with access to the internet, suggestive just doesn't get a rise out of me (pun intended again). She has occasionally given me a little good natured grief over these magazines, but nothing much comes of it (no pun there you dirty minded little monkeys). Besides, while I have never dug deep into the recesses of Elle, or whatever that catalog sized magazine is that she gets every month, but I know that all of those women's magazines have those shirtless guys that is somehow supposed to sell feminine hygiene products and so forth. And I don't care.
But her obsession over Sean Bean (and the way she says his name every time she is given a cause to think of him or see him on TV) drives me crazy sometimes. Even my Angelina Jolie (before she got knocked up by Brad Pitt to make what will undoubtedly be the world's most perfectly beautiful baby that will probably wind up being the Anti-Christ because it is going to have immeasurable good looks and charm, and nothing that perfect can be anything but evil) obsession never reached 1/3 her obsession over Sean Bean. I had resigned myself to a life of being the guy she shares coitus with while she dreams of Sean Bean (I have to keep typing his full name, because if I just type "Bean, it brings to mind images of Rowan Atkinson, and I am fairly confident that no one in recorded history has ever had an erotic thought about Rowan Atkinson. At least I hope not) once she gets tired of my "O-Face", and I was okay with that. And it isn't like I was out there hunting for my own celebrity to crush on. But I came across (NO PUN! YOU SICK BASTARDS!) this pic and realized that I could stare at it for at least 3 weeks straight. So I am going to claim her for my own, like Wifey did with Beany (does that work? Are there any famous Beanys that would make you think of them in lieu of the Seanster? Let me know).
Mmmmmmm, Johannson........
BSR
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Today's Mood Is...
There are so many things to love about this picture. It ranks up there with the Joker messing with the kid's report card for all time awesomeness in comics. Prove me wrong if you can.
BSR
And just to prove it...
Honestly, I am torn here. This one might actually be better, especially when you look at the Joker and how he is pretty much the wost killer in the history of comics (or at least in the top 5 of a list I just don't have the energy to contemplate) and he runs away yelling "HA HA! I've made someone cry!"
Add to that the freaky image that it looks like Past Joker from panel 2 is going to kick Present Kid from panel 3 in the head, completely futzing the space/time continuum and destroying the known universe in the process, and you have yourself a kick ass comic page.
Your votes, please?
BSR
Something I forgot yesterday
While making my random list of bitchiness, I forgot this...
Never trust someone who has their own name tattooed anywhere on their person (usually their arm, but why not cover all the bases). At best, they are narcissistic, at worst, they are such frigging morons they need to refer to their own flesh when someone asks them to identify themselves. And if the questions go beyond name, you probably don't want to see where they keep the rest of the information.
And a corrolary to that, never fuck with someone who has their loved one's name tattood on the FRONT OF THEIR OWN NECK! Their is only one person I know of who has that, but I still think that it is a generally good rule to follow.
Don't say that you haven't been warned.
BSR
Never trust someone who has their own name tattooed anywhere on their person (usually their arm, but why not cover all the bases). At best, they are narcissistic, at worst, they are such frigging morons they need to refer to their own flesh when someone asks them to identify themselves. And if the questions go beyond name, you probably don't want to see where they keep the rest of the information.
And a corrolary to that, never fuck with someone who has their loved one's name tattood on the FRONT OF THEIR OWN NECK! Their is only one person I know of who has that, but I still think that it is a generally good rule to follow.
Don't say that you haven't been warned.
BSR
See what I mean?
And THIS is that guy. See the front of his neck? It says "Sara". The man got a tattoo ACROSS HIS FREAKING LARYNX! You gotta admit that is one hell of a bigger committment than a ring on your finger. Ain't no way you can pocket that in a bar if you feel like flirting.
D
A
M
N
BSR
Monday, July 30, 2007
Today's Mood Is...
Wifey is back and it makes me happy. Momm-O-in-law is back and that means no waking up early on the weekend to walk her dog. Sleep and lovings brings me inner peace.
You have NO idea how hard it was to not spell "peace" another way.
BSR
Randomness All Over Again
Okay, in no particular order...
(Except for this. This is meant to be first) Big congrats to my main man Fineous and his lovely lady Shade (almost a real name for once!) for birthing their kid. I will not mention the child's name or sex because I think that is his call to make. If he wants to make their offspring a quasi-celebrity on a not too widely read blog, he can leave a comment (or he can make the announcement on his own blog). But either way, YAY!!!!
(This is also first. It was a tie) And belated congrats on my former best man and his woman that he made legal for their little poop filled ball of joy.
I figure that with the way our cohorts are popping out those that will keep Social Security solvent for us in our declining years (well, it's a hope) that Wifey and I are probably going to wind up with our own little tax write off in the next couple of years, whether we mean to or not.
I am convinced that somewhere there is a portrait of Minnie Driver that is aging, because she apparently isn't.
It is apparently a rule that in order to work for Bulleye Inc. in the clothes (we call them "softlines") area, you have to be a surly sumbitch. At least if you are north of the outskirts of Baltimore.
If you are a man and not working in a hospital (or maybe even if you are) and you wear Crocs for any reason other than medical (there are some medical advantages to wearing these if you have problems with your feet, like if you are a diabetic) than you are a douche.
Sweating sucks (unless you have one of those good reasons).
I am still pissed that Deadwood is no more, and even though John from Cincinatti is (as far as the little bit that I have seen) pretty good (I am due to catch up on it Larry T.U.N. is telling me that it is well worth it, and he usually has a pretty good eye for that), the fact that it is causing David Milch to postpone or even not do the promised 2 two hour tv movies that would wrap up the series because of how exhausting "John" is (read about it HERE) really grinds my gears, so to speak. I demand gratification HBO and David Milch. DEMAND I say!
I have been addicted to THIS (second from top) for quite a while now. Taste it and tell them I sent you. Maybe they will send me a coupon or something.
Okay. I'm outta breath. You go.
BSR
(Except for this. This is meant to be first) Big congrats to my main man Fineous and his lovely lady Shade (almost a real name for once!) for birthing their kid. I will not mention the child's name or sex because I think that is his call to make. If he wants to make their offspring a quasi-celebrity on a not too widely read blog, he can leave a comment (or he can make the announcement on his own blog). But either way, YAY!!!!
(This is also first. It was a tie) And belated congrats on my former best man and his woman that he made legal for their little poop filled ball of joy.
I figure that with the way our cohorts are popping out those that will keep Social Security solvent for us in our declining years (well, it's a hope) that Wifey and I are probably going to wind up with our own little tax write off in the next couple of years, whether we mean to or not.
I am convinced that somewhere there is a portrait of Minnie Driver that is aging, because she apparently isn't.
It is apparently a rule that in order to work for Bulleye Inc. in the clothes (we call them "softlines") area, you have to be a surly sumbitch. At least if you are north of the outskirts of Baltimore.
If you are a man and not working in a hospital (or maybe even if you are) and you wear Crocs for any reason other than medical (there are some medical advantages to wearing these if you have problems with your feet, like if you are a diabetic) than you are a douche.
Sweating sucks (unless you have one of those good reasons).
I am still pissed that Deadwood is no more, and even though John from Cincinatti is (as far as the little bit that I have seen) pretty good (I am due to catch up on it Larry T.U.N. is telling me that it is well worth it, and he usually has a pretty good eye for that), the fact that it is causing David Milch to postpone or even not do the promised 2 two hour tv movies that would wrap up the series because of how exhausting "John" is (read about it HERE) really grinds my gears, so to speak. I demand gratification HBO and David Milch. DEMAND I say!
I have been addicted to THIS (second from top) for quite a while now. Taste it and tell them I sent you. Maybe they will send me a coupon or something.
Okay. I'm outta breath. You go.
BSR
Friday, July 27, 2007
Today's Mood Is...
I forgot my wallet this morning, so I no has had any coffee. This makes me sad. And when I get sad, KOFAY KITTEH attacks people. Do not go into the kitchen cabinet for a mug. You have been warned.
Nostalgia ain't what it used to be
I know, I know. No posts for 3+ weeks, then all of a sudden I am practically spamming the damn place. Well, it is how I operate. So there.
Anyway, last week I stopped at the local grocery establishment on the way to a now previous then future commitment to get a refreshing, chilled beverage. I will not name the establishment by name, going by my long standing stance of not giving the milk away for free. If you want to be mentioned here, you gotta PAY, FOOL!
...sorry. So there I was in a place who's name rhymes with DuperFlesh when I saw the display of CDs and DVDs. The DVDs are usually stuff that I wouldn't buy, but I cannot help but glance over at them. As far as the music goes, I have been known to purchase a CD from the rack. So far (up to that point) I had purchased 2, both happened to be sitting in the very front of the display with their covers displayed prominently. Both were CDs that I had either previously owned or had a kitsch value that made them well worth the $5.99-6.99. So it was when I looked and saw THEM (look up at picture now)
Yes, Living Colour's Greatest Hits. $6.99. I looked at it, read the back cover, and knew that it HAD to be mine. I remember rocking out heartily to LC back in the day, and was eagerly looking forward to doing so again. But after I put it in my truck's CD player I learned something...
They weren't that good.
I need to clarify something here. Living Colour did indeed rock. They were a guaranteed get the party jumping band. But to listen to them now, you realize that they were pretty much formula rock. They were not innovative, nor were they cheesy. They just were. And that is okay. They were never the musicians that REM were (and are), and they were much to good and had too much pride to be grouped with the Warrants and RATTs of the music world. So I listened to the CD a few times, and now it is in the "I haven't played that one in a while" section of the truck's music collection. It will probably end up on the shelf in the "Oh man, I forgot I had this, I gotta play this now" area, to be dusted off occasionally and enjoyed on it's own merits.
But to tell you truth, I had much higher hopes for it.
Wifey is leaving me
...for the weekend. She is taking Momm-O-In-Law away for her berfsday, which is tomorrow (Happy Birthday Momm-O!). Of course, this means that I have the house to myself for the weekend. It also means that I have to take care of Bleu as well as Buttercup, and I do have to work all weekend. So it isn't going to be all that restful. I had to cancel "Guy's Night In" (it never got past the planning stages anyway), which would have consisted of guys hanging out, drinking beer and smoking cigars, grilling animal flesh over hot coals, and general spitting and scratching of one's self (scratching of others only with express written consent of Major League Baseball and may not be disseminated in any form without said consent).
So Wifey is taking her mom away. Sounds nice, right? I think it is a wonderful gesture. Last year she took her to Annapolis, and even though we only live about 35-40 minutes away from Annapolis, they stayed at a bed and breakfast there, which was a cool idea. If they had stayed home they would have maybe made a road trip for a day, but otherwise done what they always do on a weekend. Getting away has its privileges. So with that in mind, where are they going this year? Guess.
Go on, take a guess.
Give up? Okay, I'll tell you.
Wilmington, DE
I will give you a moment to let that sink in.
Is it sunk?
Okay then...
Anyway, I know that Wifey is taking her mom to a spa, and there are other things on the itinerary, but even she will have to admit that Wilmington, DE (I find it is more effective when it is in bold text. I hear that echo-y kind of reverb laden baritone announcer's voice saying it, filling it with portent and meaning) is not exactly known for its tourist trade. I like the tax free shopping. It's cool to go into a McDonald's and know that the price listed on the menu is the EXACT price you are going to pay. It makes math easier. YAY Dollar Menu!
...now I really want a double cheeseburger. Stoopid impressionable stomach!
So I do find the choice a little odd, but I know better than to doubt Wifey's own version of Manifest Destiny.
One last thing. To all the Ronnettes out there who have mentioned designs on me on the off chance of Wifey's premature demise...well...I'll be home all weekend. Alone. With NOBODY to keep me company. All those who don't root for professional football teams from Indiana are welcome to stop by.
BSR
So Wifey is taking her mom away. Sounds nice, right? I think it is a wonderful gesture. Last year she took her to Annapolis, and even though we only live about 35-40 minutes away from Annapolis, they stayed at a bed and breakfast there, which was a cool idea. If they had stayed home they would have maybe made a road trip for a day, but otherwise done what they always do on a weekend. Getting away has its privileges. So with that in mind, where are they going this year? Guess.
Go on, take a guess.
Give up? Okay, I'll tell you.
Wilmington, DE
I will give you a moment to let that sink in.
Is it sunk?
Okay then...
Anyway, I know that Wifey is taking her mom to a spa, and there are other things on the itinerary, but even she will have to admit that Wilmington, DE (I find it is more effective when it is in bold text. I hear that echo-y kind of reverb laden baritone announcer's voice saying it, filling it with portent and meaning) is not exactly known for its tourist trade. I like the tax free shopping. It's cool to go into a McDonald's and know that the price listed on the menu is the EXACT price you are going to pay. It makes math easier. YAY Dollar Menu!
...now I really want a double cheeseburger. Stoopid impressionable stomach!
So I do find the choice a little odd, but I know better than to doubt Wifey's own version of Manifest Destiny.
One last thing. To all the Ronnettes out there who have mentioned designs on me on the off chance of Wifey's premature demise...well...I'll be home all weekend. Alone. With NOBODY to keep me company. All those who don't root for professional football teams from Indiana are welcome to stop by.
BSR
Monday, July 09, 2007
Today's OTHER Mood Is...
I haven't posted in a couple of weeks, after the hell that was the last week of June, I neded the first week of July to recover. It didn't all the way work, but I feel a little bit closer to normal (whatever that is). But I couldn't decide what really described me today, so I went for the smorgasboard (does anyone know how to put the dots over the "o"? Is that an umalat, or however the hell the word is spelled?) approach. Enjoy the dichotomy!
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