A Quick and Dirty Hit

It is Monday, and I felt the need to begin with some pirates and space bears (not to mention wacky robots and the skeleton of a dwarf). The wolf and the space ships shaped like derby hats (or acorns, I cannot decide) are also a nice touch.

I am not in the best of moods. Day job is pissing me off lately (I am tempted to just have a gigantic bitch session, but it would feel a little much like self centered whining, and even I have my limits when it comes to begging for pity, no matter what Wifey says. If it keeps up, prepare yourself for "The Whining"), and I have an ear infection right after kicking a cold. I am taking antibiotics so strong that I can actually taste the color blue. But (and it is the ability to notice things like this that is both my blessing and my curse) I am beginning to get worried about the possible side effects of this current medication. It seems that this medication may decrease the effectiveness of some birth control pills. I was supposed to ask my doctor or pharmacist for more information, but I neglected to notice this oh-s0-vital warning in time before I left the pharmacy the other day. Now that is bad enough news, especially since Wifey and I are not planning on having a child in the next 9-10 months or so. We will have to be careful because apparently my doctor or pharmacist believes that I am on "The Pill". And if that weren't bad enough, I am now at an increased risk for yeast infections! I need to be wary of any vaginal itching or discharge!

If I start to suffer from any vaginal itching or discharge, a yeast infection is the LEAST of my worries, don't you think?

A Special Christmas

The one I put up has apparently been removed. And I need to keep this alive.

Here we go again (again)

Yes it has been a few weeks. One day shy of three to be exact. I have been sick, Wifey is sick right now, and the BCF (Baltimore Comedy Festival) is in less than 2 weeks. Plus there are those pesky two jobs to deal with. So I have been a little bit busier than usual. But I shall strive to fill you in on all the pertinent info. Let me bullet point it so that I can disseminate the information to you faster and then move on to topics that require more detail.

• A hearty congratulations to Target who decided to wait until a week after the release of the DVD of Borat to get some ancillary merchandise in (2 shirts, neither one seemingly of very high quality). Both have the character of Borat on them. One says "Nice", the other "High Five". Way to stay on top of the trends Target!


• I have been married to Wifey for almost a year and a half, and have been in a relationship with her for over 5 years. Until this week, I never knew that when she was sick that everything smelled like fried chicken to her. I find that to be an awesome side effect of being sick, and fervently wish for it to be contagious. Also, I can only pray that our children are similarly blessed. Imagine the agony of being sick being muted by having everything you come in contact with smell like you are in Popeye's. How cool would that be?


• This morning on the drive in I was at a stop light and looked at the traffic waiting to come in the other direction. I saw 5 dump trucks in a row, all waiting out the light like me. To the vast majority of the population that would be completely innocent, but to me it was immediately a group of German terrorists smuggling gold, and it took every ounce of strength in my still half asleep, no coffee yet this morning body to not jump out of my car (or as close as I ever get to jumping out of anything), scream "Chester A. Arthur!" as my battle cry, and pull one of those guys (yes, I am assuming that the dump truck drivers were men. Woe to the gender-specific job profiler!) out of the cab and search him for a bundle of 10 quarters. Why my brain makes these kinds of connections (and rather quickly considering the time and the complete lack of artificial stimulation coursing through me) is one of those things that is either one of those things that draws you to me or makes you not want to invite me over to the house without first locking up all the soup spoons for fear that I will bend them Uri Gellar style.


• I have it on good authority that there is no Rule 6.


• I found a couple of old tapes that I made for a show I directed and have spent the last couple of days of commuting time listening to them. I would like to editorialize my opinions of these tapes, but I feel I cannot objectively opine on their meaning or whatever window into my psyche they may reveal. But they have been great fun for me, and I get the feeling that I will be avoiding radio for a while so I can listen to them a few more times.


• JabberJaws is back from a 2 week vacation. I entered my personal Cubicle Death Row to her sitting at her desk mumbling about the numbers she was entering into the system. It was just me and her. It was the longest 20 minutes of my recent life. I put on the Stevie Wonder, The Definitive Collection CD and tried to drown her out of my head. So far I have been unsuccessful, but the Lurker and Wonder Woman have joined me here and that has lessened the blow. Now she is grumbling something about old music. Since I have no idea how old the old bat is, I can only assume that to her, old music is fife and drum and that this "rock and or roll" (and possibly "jigaboo" music as I have heard the old guard refer to it) is as annoying to her as my Metallica albums were to my parents all those years ago (I knew to keep my NWA tapes only on headphones. They could handle loud guitar and screaming, but I don't think they were ready for the revolution)


• Finally, I need to tell the Ronnettes (and by extension Wifey) that my bid for President has very little overall to do with whether or not I do in fact take off my shirt and fulfill the prophecy of my blog's name or if it will just continue to be a vaguely identifiable reference to The Simpsons that only geeks like me and Larry the Upstairs Neighbor and I (and also my good friend C3PO the translator lawyer) get. The fact that the original email by one of the Ronnettes said that she would vote for me only if I did remove my shirt has evolved into a thread worthy of X-Files-o-philes (which I REALLY hope is the name for big fans of the show, because that would be awesome!) of bantering back and forth, with Wifey (seemingly) getting jealous. Of course, Wifey had to work into the thread a reference and picture of the 2 guys from Supernatural. Because, as I am sure you remember, "that show is made of awesome". And this week, for some reason, it smells like fried chicken.

Let me share the transcript of this thread with you (the names are removed to "protect" the "innocent"...

You’ll get our vote if we can finally see you shirtless!!!! J

I second that motion

All you hussies need to back off!

What’s the problem? I say if he doesn’t do
it, that’s false advertising!

Indeed

Again.
Whatever.
Some more.
Wenches

Hater!!!!! J

You’re psychosis is frightening

Ha hahaha hahaha Ha

Watch out, [name deleted]! I hear a demonic laugh! You might want to get your
sword and salt ready!

I know! I’m just going to have to call the hottest demon hunters ever to
help: [this is where the picture was]

What we? You have ulterior motives missy

That is where it ends. So now let me make a few points on this.

• I fail to see how demon hunters and TV shows that make Wifey moist and me somewhat pointless in her life (as long as she as them to fantasize over, along with her Sean Bean guy, I am basically window dressing with an extra limb if you catch my drift) have to do with my being the leader of the free world.


• It really wouldn't be false advertising unless I was actually elected. Big Shirtless Ron is just a name of a site. I never made a claim that I was the Ron in question. Yes it might be implied, but it is not implicitly me. And even so, I never make a claim as to WHEN I am shirtless. I could be shirtless right now (and wouldn't THAT be a fun way to freak out JJ. Hell, now I'm tempted to sit here and do my work in my boxers just to see what would happen. But I won't). I could be shirtless in my home (which I am quite frequently). But I will make this pledge right now. If I am in fact elected, I WILL give every supporter who requests it a signed 8x10 glossy of me posing completely shirtless (if you vote twice I might be bottomless too. With three, you get egg roll).


• I really don't have a third point, but I said I was going to make a few points, and at this point I had only made 2. Since it is universally accepted that 2 is a couple and 3 is a few, I felt the need to make a third point here, even if that point is just making the point that I have no actual third point.

See how Presidential I am? Not only did I keep my word by making three points, I used enough circular reasoning/double speak to confound the average person, thereby ensuring that I can package my words can be packaged any number of ways in order to either confirm or deny whatever platform I am currently supporting or railing against depending on the special interest group that is trying to buy my vote with their $500 plate fund raiser. I hope you are listening Order of the Blind Left-Handed Dentists with Tourettes Syndrome. Get that rubbery chicken and those waxy green beans on those plates and let's get a move on here. I need campaign coffers and a battle/war chest. Those are the things hey always mention on CNN and Face the Nation as the candidate's best friend.

Also, my old college buddy Middle Name Morgan sent me a link to the guns and dope party, urging me to affiliate with a party for all of the benefits that it entails. I will consider it, and I do like a lot of their platform policies. However, their reliance on ostriches is a little disturbing. Check it for yourself...

My Dear Friend,

I support your decision to run for
Commander-in-Chief. However, although running as an independent has both its
advantages and allure, having the backing of an actual political party may add
dignity and, if I may, a sense of gravitas. A suggestion: http://www.maybelogic.com/gunsanddopeparty/

I am going to take his sage advice and continue to make myself available for any party that wants to contact me in order to have me run with them as my backer. Until that time I will stay independent and will act accordingly.

I really need to get back to work now. Have and excellent weekend (I know it is only Wednesday, but I also know that odds are I will not be back online until next week. But before I go, one final thought. I was (and still am, although I can't afford it like I could in middle school and high school) a comic book geek. Due to the aforementioned lack of finances, I do not collect regularly anymore. I rely on Larry the Upstairs Neighbor for all the good stuff, and I read Wizard magazine pretty much every month. So I am not over informed on the latest Marvel MEGA CROSSOVER EVENT OF THE MILLENNIUM, Civil War. I know a good bit about it from my sources, but that is as far as it goes. So I really had no idea that they were going to kill off Captain America, and even if I know for a fact that they will retcon (comic geek talk for using a new story to go back and rewrite what happened, kind of a mea culpa, 4 color deus ex machina literary device) or just straight out deny the finality of the move with some convoluted explanation, I am still bothered by the death of ol' Cap. So I particularly liked this picture I saw (I hope this posts. You who are old friends of this thing know that me and picture posting don't always get along). Goodbye for now my little minions.

Quick and dirty addition. Blogger decided to post the picture up top. So now you went through this long ass post and now finally understand what the hell it is supposed to mean. Don't you feel complete now? I know I do.

BSR

And so the masses speak!

It has been all of 2 or 3 days since my big announcement, and already I have a volunteer to be my personal Secret Service escort (although if Fineous won't block the occasional Wifey forehead flick I don't know if I trust him to jump in front of a bullet for me. I might have to make him the Secretary of SNIP! btw - that's an inside joke, don't even try to figure it out), and I have 2 votes, but they are qualified with special requests. Now I have plans to be the President who finally stands up to special interest groups and stops the pandering to the lobbyists. However, in the interest of fairness I feel I must share the requests of my first official supporters, who I expect to see on the campaign trail any moment now. Spread the word my pretties, spread it!

First comment... You’ll get our vote if we can finally see you shirtless!!!!

and the second... I second that motion

Well ladies, first of all you will have to clear that with the First Wifey. Secondly, while I have no intention of making this a habit, if I do in fact win the election, I will pose for you with as few clothes as you wish. I might even have some glossies printed up.

Speaking of Wifey's role in the administration (and if we weren't speaking of it, we are now dangit!), she is openly campaigning for Secretary of Defense of Head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. To those requests I have unequivocally said "no". Anyone who knows Wifey knows how dangerous she is unarmed, or armed with only a butter knife of plastic spoon and her always with her propensity for accidental carnage. If you think I am going to let her be anywhere near the football you are crazier than I thought you were, whoever the hell you are (yes, I think you are all crazy. Even YOU). That being said, why even become President if you don't get to be all nepotistic and crony-ish (I don't know if they are words, but if they aren't I will decree them to be after the nomination. Kneel before Mirriam Webster, son of Jor-El!), so I will gladly accept any and all requests for official positions in my Cabinet or for any other appointments. However, in order for your request to be accepted, you must give me valid reason why you should have this position. And if this reason is presented in Haiku style, all the better.

As far as the positions go, pretty much all of them are open and available. The only one that anyone might have dibs on is Ed Norris (the former commissioner, not the local actor made good) for Secretary of Defense. He has no idea that I am planning on appointing him, and I would have to issue an executive pardon first, but I would probably need at least one person I haven't yet been drunk with or slept with (or in a few cases both) in an advisory position. And since he is (from what I have heard on the radio) one of the most rationally positive thinkers I am aware of, I wouldn't mind having him bending my ear. Besides, I figure he could clean up a lot of the bullshit currently blocking up the system.

Okay, I await more responses now, and am eager to hear questions regarding policy. Remember, the email to contact me is bigshirtlesspresident@gmail.com . All emails will be answered.

Join me next week for the running diary of the class I was sent to by my day job. 7 hour class, I lasted all of 70 minutes. As soon as the first break hit I rolled out and had a delicious, reasonably priced meal at Cracker Barrel. But until then, take care my pets, and let's keep moving all the way to Washington!

BSR in 2008

In the immortal words of Nathan Detroit, "ALLRIGHT ALREADY!!!!!"

Yeah, I promised you big news last week. But I can't resist the build-up. And besides, I forgot that I promised big news (luckily for you Larry the Upstairs Neighbor reminded me). But without any further delay...

Let me digress for a moment. I have always been fascinated by American History. I love reading books about it (ask Wifey). It is not a passion for me like sports or comedy, but it is one of my favorite diversions (and yes I could spend an entire weekend watching the History Channel and its brethren). Politics are not nearly as fascinating to me, excepting for where it intertwines with history (but the thing is that they intertwine a lot, so I have a somewhat keen interest in the topic).

To digress from the digression, last night Wifey not only threatened to kill me (I know she has been plotting this for some time. It is the main reason I don't insure myself more heavily. As long as she can't afford to live without me she has to keep me around. But if either of us hit the Lotto, I'm a grease stain on the pavement. Avenge Me!!!!!!!!!!). I often get silly tired at night around bedtime. Most of you have been so tired that you start laughing for no reason, or had some other kind of similar reaction. Well, I get like that 4-5 nights a week for stretches at a time. It is just one of those things, and I know it can be frustrating for Wifey. However, there was no call for her to suddenly proclaim that I am possessed, flick me right on the forehead, and start to tell me she is going to behead me and then burn me and cover me with salt (I think that was the order she mentioned them in. At that point I was too busy saying "son of a bitch that hurt!" regarding the flick on the forehead, right in the temple). This brings me to my point from a couple of weeks ago regarding Wifey's possibly unhealthy obsession with the show Supernatural and the like. However, for whatever reason the sword stayed on the wall and my head stayed on my neck, and I am able to make my big announcement to you.

For years I have said that if I didn't like the way the country was going I would do something about it. I would run for President. I meet all the requirements as outlined in the Constitution. I am (or will be by the time of the actual election next November) 35, I am a natural born American citizen, an I have never been convicted of a felony. And in case you were wondering, those are the only requirements.

So just in case you haven't figured it out, I am officially announcing my candidacy for President of the United States of America. I am running on an independent platform, I have no plans to affiliate myself with any political party. If any of the parties want to contact me in regards to running on their ticket, they may feel free to do so. In fact, I have created a email address specifically for comments and questions about my politics. I swear right now to answer every question I receive openly and honestly. You want to know where I stand on something? Ask me. I will answer. And what is this email address? Why it is bigshirtlesspresident@gmail.com .

I await your questions, and together we will march all the way to the White House!

Actually, I will probably drive. It would be a long walk and I don't want to be all out of breath and sweaty when I am sworn in.

BSPR

Yeah, it's a week late...

But Homestar Runner is still worth it.

http://www.homestarrunner.com/tgs12.html

BSR

5 Guys in a Limo

Like McDonalds, I'm lovin' it!

I am the very model of a modern major bootie hound

This is the kind of thing that pisses me off because I didn't think of it first.

The eye of the storm

I have to be careful, and quiet. Wifey is asleep right now. But she is the focus of this little post, and I dare not wake her up.

I am beginning to think that she has an obsession bordering on the unhealthy. That obsession is "Supernatural". I know she loves the show, and that is fine with me. It is a decent enough show, the episodes I have watched with her I have enjoyed, even though the show isn't really my cup of tea. But I am beginning to worry about her, and am now exploring 12 step programs (a program for addiction to a program? It's like a Dr. Seuss rehab!). I came home tonight to her just beginning to watch the episode from last night (that she watched last night while it was broadcasting but still felt the need to record). She says that it was only her second viewing, but as I listened to her quote lines from it with amazing accuracy (when she wasn't gut laughing and tee-heeing and basically laughing like ZZTop...a-haur-haur-haur-haur...ever heard La Grange?), I got the distinct feeling that she might have been telling a fib. I have no way of proving this theory, but sometimes your gut instinct is right on the money.

Now here is the thing. I know there are a few shows that I watch fervently, making sure I record them if I won't be able to watch them when they are broadcast (unless they are a show I can catch OnDemand with le digital cable). However, I don't both watch AND record, unless I am recording it for someone else to watch. And if I do record it for whatever reason, I don't watch it again (at least once, if not 3 or 4 times), constantly rewinding so I can re-re-live the best parts. Of course, this IS the show that Wifey describes as being "made of awesome". What does that mean you ask? Hell if I know I respond. You know her? You ask her to explain. And watch as she bounces around the room like Tigger while making squealing noises and panting (and possibly ruining underwear) while thinking of the two leads on the show.

I need to make it clear that I am okay with her having crushes on these two. I like to tease Wifey about her obsessions with Sean Bean and the guy who played the blond vampire on Buffy. I tell her that the vampire is as gay as the day is long and would therefore have no interest in her. She defends his heterosexual libido until she runs out of breath. Lather, rinse, repeat. It's not like I go all Tim Hardaway on the guy. It's just that he is so British and sunken cheeked that I am convinced that he must love roosters. And yes, I am calling pretty much all British actors gay. Prove me wrong. And send your hate mail to me care of Ronnie Patriot. Besides, I get Maxim and Stuff (and until its recent untimely demise, FHM. By the way, how do I get a refund on the balance of my subscription to that?) every month, and they are about a half of a Mother-May-I baby step away from being porn. If you ever read any of those, play my favorite magazine based game since the "you have to find the rabbit on the cover before you can read the issue of Playboy" game we played in college, where a subscription to Playboy is almost one of the pre-reqs to getting your degree. But I digress...

Grab an issue of one of those men's magazines and flip through it until you get to one of the photo layouts. And then find all the pictures where they had to airbrush out at least some nipple. It averages 4.something last time I checked.

So it's not like either one of us is being a prude here. But her need to watch this show (and the fact that just watching an episode that you just watched about 24 hours ago wore her out so much that she needed to pass out on the couch almost immediately) tell me that I might have to seek professional help for her. Is there a Rorshack test for the CW?

Okay, gonna run now so I can get to bed. BSR is tired, and he has to go into the day job tomorrow (Saturday) in order to get caught up on a few things. But I will leave you with this...in the next week I am going to have a MAJOR announcement. One that will affect EVERY ONE of you. What is this big announcement? Check in next week and you will find out.

BSR (the cliffhanger King)

how long can this go on?

I can't help it, it is too damn funny to me. But if I can't get this image out of my head soon, I am going to have to go low carb.

more

I hope I am never too old for this kind of humor.

Words don't do it justice

Safe for work, as long as fart noises are okay.

I was going to bring sexy back, but I forgot my receipt

I love customer service.

BSR

STOP CALLING ME!

Wifey told me that there is a small clamoring for a new post out there in the Ronnettes realm, and who am I to keep them from entertainment?

Before I get too deep into this I need to say something. Like 99% of the population we have caller ID on the home phone. Well I do not know who "Unknown Caller" is, but I need to tell him (he is too aggressive to be a she) that he needs to go to the courthouse and get his rather unfortunate name changed, because I keep thinking that he is someone I don't know so I refuse to answer the phone. I just know that I am missing some important news, but he never leaves a message. Which is kind of rude if you think about it.

Okay, now I need to call out the "annoying c-words" that are at Wifey's office annoying her (I have been assured by Wifey herself that none of the Ronnettes are responsible for her being all crankified). Listen you schmuck(s), you are making it much more difficult for me to score with Wifey on those rare occassions that we are both home and conscious. I can't talk her out of her lacey underpinnings if she comes home and needs to vent for an hour and a half on how much you are pissing her off. And I got needs, people. So please, for my sake, wait until she is unable to accept tickets for the Ferris wheel before you work her nerves. I have already written off that week, so if you are going to work her into a gigantic ball of anger, THAT is the week to do it. On the plus side for me, if you wait until then to get her dander all a flutter, she will probably kill or at least maim you. That will eliminate a source of tension for her, which will allow me to release more of my own tension, as well as fill special balloons with the equivalent of a mid-major city's worth of potential people.

Now that Wifey is all blushing and cursing the day she ever told her co-workers about this site, I can move on to the business at hand...

I love my mother-in-law. I truly do. But she is going to have to learn that you do not start your car, leave it running, and go back in the house when you live on Belair Road in the city of Baltimore. Aberdeen? Go right ahead. Hell, anywhere in Harford County should be pretty much safe. But not when you live 20 feet from a stop for the 15 bus. It just ain't a sound business decision. And not only did we have to deal with all the stress of this, but since she used her regular set of keys, we had to change the lock on her door. Not to mention that my leather vest was in the car to be taken to the cleaners. Now, I am not going to argue with the $200 that insurance is paying us, but it is not easy to find a leather vest that compliments the portly gentleman without making him look like Dozer in Mask (the one with Eric Stoltz, not the one with Jim Carrey). "this is red..."

Sorry, I couldn't resist.

Now, what the hell else is going on? Oh, I know. BM (Best Man) and his wife had their baby, a lovely little girl named Olivia. I say that she is lovely even though I have not actually met the little ball of skin and poopy diapers. I am just going to assume that she is lovely until I find out otherwise.

My other college friend (the one who is not Fineous) had her 2nd child, a cutie named Helena. Helena I have met in person. She is the size of a cup of yogurt. Which should help the family as they try and move furniture around for her to have some personal space. Almost any closet and a space heater will do for now.

Seriously, she is a doll (literally. I couldn't resist that one either). And both Moms and both babies are doing well, so it is good news all around.

There hasn't been any more discussion between Wifey and myself as far as us making life out of random DNA couplings as of yet. Now she is pining for a puppy from a lady she knows. It might slow down her clock, or at least hit the snooze bar for a while. And best of all, puppies are a lot cheaper, and when they shit on the floor you can just rub their nose in it and no one from Child Services comes to your door to bitch you out.

Now, it is only 2 days until Valentine's Day, and I know that a lot of guys out there are panicking about what to do for their lovely ladies (or their lovely bottoms if you are in Mt. Vernon. Hi Fuzz!). Well if you are looking here for advice you are a fool. I got Wifey drunk at a party and got her to say "yes" to marrying me, and she only keeps me around because I dress up for her. And that French Maid outfit chafes. Plus I am pretty sure that after the accident she figured that she had better tie the knot, because next time she might not be so lucky. Sure, you can do flowers and candy and be the most stereotypical asshat out there. Jewelry? I swear to all that I hold holy that if ANYONE pulls one of those "he went to JARED" moves, I will destroy you all. Stuffed animals? PAJAMAGRAM? What the hell do I know? I didn't get married until I was 32. so what is BSR doing for his lovely lady this Wednesday? Making a nice (hopefully romantic) dinner and drinking a gallon of pineapple juice.

If you know what that means kudos for you. I am hoping Wifey remembers. Because I don't cook while wearing a school girl outfit for just anybody, and I don't do it for free. And damn it woman, I am not some piece of meat, and yes I am ticklish there!

Now while you go bleach your brain of the thought of me in a plaid miniskirt, I will move on to other things.

BSR

A quick thanks

Thank you all for being so patient during my run of lack of time and/or writer's block. I am beginning to feel the mojo again. Mothers, lock up your daughters!

No Added Pressure HERE, TYVM

As you may recall, Wifey recently dropped the thought that she would like to start trying to have a child soon. Granted she told me in the middle of the night while lying in bed all but asleep, but still, communication is the key. And lately she has been oohing and aahing and generally cooing and making squeaky dolphin noises whenever anything remotely cute comes across her path. The pictures of kittens and puppies she got in her inbox the other day caused MUCH consternation as she squeaked and squealed and made dogs all over the neighborhood bark. She has actually put a picture of the Boob Thief up as her wallpaper at work. And God forbid she sees one of those old Michelin commercials. I might never get her back from one of those.

I am waiting for the day I come home to a wall full of those baby pictures by that one female photographer who always puts them in costumes and backgrounds so sickeningly sweet that I need a shot of insulin when I look at them. And yes, my sister has 4 or 5 of them in the half-bathroom in her house. Just what I need as I take a leak, babies in costumes that make their faces look like the middle of a sunflower staring at me. Makes it crawl back up every time.

Well, the guy who was the Best Man at my wedding and his wife are expecting any day now. He called me last night, but I didn't have an opportunity to call him back. I will strive for that tonight. And now I find out that good ol' Fineous Reese (he of the inverted blog to your right) and his lovely wife are also going to be Mommy and Daddy (not necessarily in that order). I find this out from Larry the Upstairs Neighbor who tells me the info (along with the knowledge that someone we both know is engaged. The fact that EVERY SINGLE PERSON he has told the news of the engagement to that knows this person has said "wait, he's not gay?" or has somehow referenced that his betrothed will make an excellent beard. So let's see how THAT plays out) last night. So I clicked on Fineous' blog and lo and behold, it is the big announcement. And there is even a public apology to me for me having to hear about it online instead of from him. So let me say this Mr. Reese, apology accepted, but completely unnecessary. Just name your first borne after me and all will be forgiven. BSR Reese has a nice ring to it, does it not?

Even if he chooses not to appease my most simple request, he is still forgiven. After all, he is a bud. And you don't stay friends for 16 years (ye GODS!) without being able to forgive something as simple as this. Or as simple as me. Hey Fin, call me.

Now to the task at hand. There is one major problem with all my friends (or their respective spouses) getting knocked up like rabbits in March. It opens a whole new category of people entering into the "when are you two going to have a kid" arena. Random requests from in-laws and outlaws and blood kin and so forth were tolerable, since we don't see most of them that much. But now that my friends are popping out heirs I am starting to really feel pressure to seed the field. To plant some crops. To put a bun in the oven. In other words, to knock up my wife.

Maybe if she promises to pose for pictures like Demi Moore did in Vanity Fair (or whatever damn magazine it was), I would feel a little better about the whole thing.

BSR

the Land of Lesbians

I am all for diversity. I believe that sexual orientation should be as much a factor in being hired as race or qualifications for the position (okay, maybe qualifications for the position should carry a LITTLE extra weight. I am just tired of hunting for a new job, because apparently I am qualified for but two things...Jack and Shit. And Jack left town. Remember, shop smart. Shop S-Mart. YOU GOT THAT?!?!?) The reason I bring this up is that the Target where I am employed has become a haven of Sappho. I don't know if it is a theme throughout the company or if my store just has a unique concentration of Butch's NOT NAMED Patrick, but lately it seems I can't take 3 steps without running into a lesbian. And by no means am I saying this is a bad thing.

First of all, I am off the market, so it isn't like I am hunting for a hot piece of Target Team Member in the utility closet during my state mandated break period. So there is no competition. I will say that the vast majority of Muff Divers Local 127 are more manly than pretty much the entire IT department here at the hospital, so there isn't a whole lot of temptation there to go thinking things like "she just hasn't had the right man yet". I am fairly confident that in most cases she IS the right man.

Secondly, there is nothing cooler than a woman taking the time to point out a hot woman that has entered the store, and it is even more awesome when she takes the time to check out the ass with you as she enters. Apparently most lesbians aren't into boobs like they are ass and thighs. Me, I appreciate the whole package. I'm just a renaissance man that way.

Last night one of the Local 127 was working in Guest Services when I walked over to drop off some re-shop (merchandise that needs to be re-shelved for those who don't know what "re-shop" means). She was staring intently at one of the registers, so asked her what was going on. She proceeded to tell me (in rather graphic detail) not only that there was a (for lack of a better term) "quality piece of ass" at Register 7, but what she would like to do to those "thick thighs" and "juicy ass". Now how she could tell the relative juice quantity in the posterior of this particular lady is beyond me. I know if you are shopping for melons you are supposed to shake them and sniff them and even knock on them. I am hoping that she did not do this, because odds are it would be misinterpreted, at least initially. Although it would be fun to try and fill out that report. I know spell-check would have a blast with it.

Working two jobs may suck the vast majority of the time, but at least I get to be complimented by lesbians with such kudos as "If only we didn't have the same taste in women", and "it's too bad you are a guy. You would make a great girlfriend". To which I could only reply "I was thinking the exact same thing about you".

BSR

Back from the abyss

Hey everybody. It has been awhile, I know. But it has been a long few weeks. Actually I really don't have anything of note to say right now, but I have felt remiss in my duties as the opinion-maker for my minions, and I just wanted to let you know that I am still thinking of you all, and hopefully I will soon have something worth telling you about.

But I wouldn't count on it.

BSR

Raindrops on roses...

One of my favorite things to do is listen to conversations being spoken in languages other than English. I don't like to be directly involved in them, just be in the periphery listening to them. Why, you ask?

Go on, ask. I won't tell you until you do.

I'm waiting...

Say it out loud. I don't care if you are at work or home or wherever the hell you are. Say "why?". No one will look at you any funnier than they already do. In fact, say it loudly. If nothing else, everyone else in your office will be less inclined to screw with your desk and desktop bric a brac.

Okay, thank you.

I love to listen to conversations in other languages because I love it when they have to say random words in English. It goes a little something like this...

"Dberoiub aeoifjv naer eiouf poirue e iu piu aeorui niaf n oern Coca Cola erfvjierio u aio r oun aeoruageroiun..."

That is always fun for me. So imagine my delight when I was randomly clicking the "next blog" button while a stoned Wifey plays "Simpsons Hit and Run" and randomly says things like "DAMMIT! and "Stupid black vans!!!", and I came across the little jem linked on the title. It is the best. And the pictures and titles of each post are completely senseless.

Nothing like a slice of down home awesomeness to start the New Year!

BSR

BUSH!!!!!

Now I can't stop.