Thursday, July 30, 2009

Urgent Questions Volume 6

Have I told you lately that your hair reminds me of a sweet cinnamon bun? I must have been starving, or high, because right now your hair just looks like hair.

Do you ever wish you could just while away the days drifting down a lazy river with one hand dangling in the water and one foot bitten off by a 20 foot crocodile because this is Florida and someone didn’t take any time to read the 10 warning signs by the side of “Crocodile River”?

Have you ever laughed so hard that your pancreas and liver get up and shake hands, and your gall bladder does the Nicaraguan two-step? If you answered yes, then you are humoring me, and stop it.

How many times have you skipped across a puddle on the sidewalk, giggling as you land on the other side just as your umbrella blows open unexpectedly, only to realize that you are a police officer, and that wasn’t an umbrella?

If a stitch in time saves nine, how many does a stitch 20 minutes early save? What if the stitch is 15 minutes late because Grandma wouldn’t get out of the slow lane? Does that mean you owe like 4 or 5?

If I have six of one, and half a dozen of another, could you just ignore the fact that I’m talking about various types of genital warts?

Will the leaders of the world ever learn their lesson and realize that all wars can end with one phrase: “Whatchoo talkin’ ‘bout Willis?”

If I asked you an honest question about a donkey, a garden rake, a pair of nipple clamps, and a poster of New Kids on the Block, would you reserve your judgment of me until you see how damn sexy this all turns out to be?

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Book of George Michael: Verse 1, Chapter 1

Repent and beware ye sinners and saints, for the hour cometh near in which you shall be visited by three spirits. The first spirit will yell at you in Spanish; the second spirit will scream at you in Latin; and the third spirit will try to cheer you up and explain what the first two screaming spirits were trying to communicate to you. Bottom line: stopeth eating Cheese Whiz at 3 in the morning, or else you will be visited by lots of things starting around 4 in the morning. It is written.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Book of Maebe: Verse 23, Chapter 10

The North Star shined down on the fields of Bethlehem as the Son of God was born. He received many gifts from visitors far and wide. In later years, the Son of God would complain that he got “gypped” because his birthday and Christmas are on the same day.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Letters from Real Folks

Every day I get millions of letters from readers all over my street. The letters are literally left all over my street every day. It’s like the mailman has letter diarrhea all over my street and sidewalk. I called the post office about this and asked them if the mailman could consider my mailbox his figurative “toilet”. They hung up on me. Anyway, enough about my problems. I decided to start posting some of these letters and my responses. Enjoy.

Dear Blog,

My boyfriend and I are always trying to kick at each other. Not full roundhouse karate kicks, just little foot flicks. Do you think this is something I should be worried about? He is also cheating on me with his Mother.

Worried in Walla Walla

Dear Worried,

I don’t think you should worry about the little kicks. As is written in scripture, “Little kicks are like little kisses from God.” As for the cheating thing, we again turn to scripture for our answer: “If Momma is hot, you gots to take a shot. If Momma is ugly, kick her ass under the rug-ly” John 3:19.

Dear Man,

I am drunk and have shot my scrotum off.

Ball-less in Baltimore

Dear Ball-less,

Ah, I see you are preparing for a catastrophe! Fret not, little angel, your scrotum will regenerate in its own time and be all the stronger for the effort. In the meantime, attach a small leather purse where it used to be and make a fun art project out of it! Use beads and rhinestones and don’t be afraid to add a splash of color!

Dear Light of Existence,

Is there any way you can escort my daughter to her prom next spring? She would be very surprised if you showed up, especially since you are in your thirties. Please do whatever you can to make my daughter’s special day memorable. She has brain cancer and lost a foot to frostbite while hiking to the summit of Mount Everest last winter. She reads your blog every day and the only time she smiles is when she sees there is a new post from you. Her dying wish is to meet you and let you know how much your words mean to her. What say you, kind sir?

Hopeful in Wabashaw

Dear Hopeful,

I have five rules that must be adhered to before I agree to this:

1. I must be allowed to wear my beard in a pencil-thin style much like Justin Timberlake wears. I must be allowed this.
2. The limousine procured must be no less than 100 feet long with at least three different types of lighting inside. Your daughter must ride in the trunk of this limousine. No exceptions.
3. Three words: Top Shelf Liquor.
4. The band ‘Men At Work’ must perform at least an hour long set during the prom. ‘Who Can It Be Now?’ must be dedicated to me at which time I will perform a solo dance to the song. At this time, the entire dance floor must be cleared and all prom patrons must turn their backs to the dance floor while I dance. The dance is elaborate and dangerous and is not meant for human eyes.
5. I am willing to shave my head and wear a wig to make your daughter feel more comfortable. The wig will be provided by you and will be cut in the style of Katie Couric from the Today show. I will not remove my own foot to show solidarity for your daughter, so don’t even ask.

If you agree to these terms, I’m sure an arrangement can be made. By arrangement, I mean a steep financial obligation.

Dear Millions of Atoms,

Why are M&Ms so delicious? Do you think they have trace amounts of cocaine in them? I do.

Wondering in Orlando

Dear Wondering,

I ask myself this question every day. I decided to do a little research and I found no trace amounts of cocaine, but what I did find was very interesting. Each M&M has microscopic bits of fecal matter in them. I wouldn’t think this would contribute to the addictive qualities and incredible taste, but apparently this is the magic ingredient! Doody! My assistant insisted that it was just microscopic bits of chocolate, but I openly mocked and shamed her until she ran away. I freely admit that I’m no scientist, but tiny bits of poop in each M&M seems like a reasonable hypothesis to me. I’m going to try adding microscopic shit particles to other foods to see how much their taste and addictive quality improves. I will report on the results in a future post.

Dear Assface,

Thanks for nothing. Your blog sucks. In your case, ‘Blog’ is short for ‘Big Log of Shit’. TTYN.

Fuck Off in Ottowa

Dear F.O.,

I am sorry you feel you have been let down by my blog. Obviously with my face in this shape, it is hard to write well and see clearly (because I have an ass instead of a human face! LOL! Who knew?). I only wish that we could have been friends. You know, real friends. The kind that hug all the time and laugh until our ribs hurt. The kind of friends that hold hands and kiss sometimes. The kind of friends that stand uncomfortably close and suddenly find themselves naked for no apparent reason. The kind of friends who get arrested at parades for defecating at random intervals along the parade route just in time for the marching band to arrive and then the band leader gets all loud and starts yelling about shit covered boots and Tubas and Flutes and Trumpets and whatnot. What was I saying? Oh yeah. I hate you. Godspeed.

Dear Typer,

I have a dilemma that maybe you can help me with. I find myself quite embarrassed. It seems as though I have farted in the middle of an important senate session and with the acoustics here and the silence of the other senators, it ended up sounding like a barrage of gunfire. There was no question where the noise came from and the other senators have now ostracized me. How can I get back in their good graces?

Flatulent in D.C.

Dear Flatulent,

This is a tough situation you find yourself in, but I think I have a viable solution. Bring an actual gun (semi-automatic if possible) to the next session and fire it off in the middle of a vote. Let everyone know that you are planning on bringing guns to the senate to remind everyone of our freedoms and what our forefathers had to go through when they founded our great nation and blah blah blah. If anyone gives you any lip, shoot it off for them free of charge. Then tell them the next one is coming straight at their dumper and that they should bend over and prepare for impact. The best part is, while you are shooting your gun you can fart all you want and no one will give a hoot. I am a big advocate of using gunfire to mask embarrassing flatulence. I’m actually planning on starting a foundation around this theory and could use your support. Thank you for your time and your question.

Dear Miss,

I am thinking your horse is on fire. My book is flying. Will you purchase an umbrella? Maybe one time we won’t come to the picnics. Where do hamburgers register? This banana is giving me some heartburns. My English is having a baby. I am words.

Flip Flops

Dear Mr. Flops,

I can’t tell you how many times I hear similar sentiments from other readers. You raise some very good points here. Good luck with your baby and please keep reading.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

New Reality Show Preview

*TV screen darkens. Ominous music plays as wisps of smoke play across the frame. A voice intones*

This summer on Fox: Watch as 10 strangers meet in a remote location…

*brief shot of a man in his twenties wearing a backwards baseball cap* I had no idea where we were going, I was just thinking to myself: ‘There better be some hot women there!’

They have no idea where they are or why they are there…

*another brief shot of a girl in her twenties, scantily clad* I was like, ‘Where are we?’ My makeup is all screwed up, and my IPod ran out of batteries like twenty minutes ago!

All they know is, they will soon be involved in the most outrageous adventure of their lifetime…

*another brief shot of a 30-something man in a business suit* As soon as I got off the plane, I thought, ‘Game On. Game ON. Game mother-*bleep*-ing on. Bring it! Oh, and game on.’

Join us this summer as 10 idiots are dumped on an island with each other. After one night of gratuitous sex, untold volumes of alcohol consumed and unprovoked fighting amongst themselves, they are awakened with a surprise…

*the sound of a drum being loudly beaten is heard, followed by a fade in to a tall figure, dressed as a woman, with a badly-fitting wig and harshly drawn makeup* Welcome to Hell, bitches!

Welcome to: Transvestite Island!

Watch as this melting pot of American culture is immediately thrown into a chaotic world where they are hunted by 10 Transvestites from the streets of New York!

*cut to a shot of ‘Trixie’, a shockingly made up Transvestite, wearing a bright colored dress and a helmet.* All I know is, I’m fixin’ to ram this bow and arrow up some *bleep* *bleep*!

The contestants have nowhere to turn, so they must take to the jungles and beaches to survive as long as possible. Watch as the half-wits form alliances, attempt to plot out strategies, and avoid the all-seeing eyes of the ‘Tranny Tribe’

*cut to a shot of ‘LaTony’ She appears to be over seven feet tall, with a bright blonde wig and black lipstick drawn crudely over her lips. She holds a large sledgehammer in one hand, letting it drop to the ground with a dull thud* There ain’t no way I’m leavin’ without baggin’ at least 3 of these biatches. Bring it! I ain’t *bleep*-in around here, you *bleep*-in mutha-*bleep* *bleep* *bleep* in your *bleep* mutha-*bleep* up your *bleep*-in *bleep*!

At the end of each episode, the first contestant hunted and caught by the ‘Tranny Tribe’ will be voted into a ‘Tranny Swap’ where they must have their genitals surgically swapped with an island-dwelling monkey’s…

*cut to the same man from earlier in the business suit* NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I have a MONKEY-*bleep*! I have MONKEY-*bleep*!

They will then be forcibly removed from the island and sent back to their normal life, where we will watch them try to shop, get a job, and generally get through life with a new hilarious set of hastily sewn on monkey genitals...

*Cut to a surveillance camera shot of a nervous looking man at a store counter buying cigarettes. The clerk recognizes him.* Hey, I saw you on TV! What’s it like having a monkey *bleep*? *the man cries and throws the cigarettes at the clerk, running from the store. The clerk taunts him as he runs.* Monkey *bleep*! Monkey *bleep*!

The dim-bulb that makes it all the way to the end gets a check for one thousand American dollars, a blonde wig and a darling blue cocktail dress! The stakes are high, the tension even higher, this summer…

*brief flashing cuts of people running in terror through foliage and down beaches, followed by flashes of Transvestites in various types of hunting gear and carrying different types of weapons screaming and flying out of trees, swinging on giant ropes, and riding Jet Skis from the ocean onto the beach. A man is cornered in an alcove when from around a large tree a 300-pound Transvestite wielding a chainsaw and growling appears. One team of Transvestites is seen setting a trap with some thinly stretched fishing wire and a large explosive device, laughing maniacally*

This summer, you won’t want to miss what happens on…TRANSVESTITE ISLAND!

*cut to a close-up of two eyes, with a tear running down one dirty cheek* They took…my…genitals! My GENITALS! DEAR GOD, NOOO-- *audio cuts suddenly as the music rises to a crescendo and stops with a cymbal crash and some disjointed piano notes*

This summer on Fox! Right after The Simpsons! On Fox!

Monday, July 13, 2009

The Anti-LOL


Staring in Silence

ChatMan1: Hey man! I jogged all the way to the store and they had no Asparagus! LOL!!!
ChatMan2: SIS

ChatMan1 logged out

It works. SIS.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Catastrophe Preparedness Plan

The Department of Homeland Security has released a “Catastrophe Preparedness Plan” that every man woman and child in the world needs to read and memorize immediately. As a public service, I am making this plan available here free of charge. Please read it and take it to heart. It could save your life one day.

1. Keep at least a Gallon of your own urine in a plastic container under your kitchen sink at all times.

2. Make sure your house pets are trained in Karate and know at least two secondary languages. “German” and “Keith Richards” are preferred.

3. Open a checking account in your name and fill it with jelly beans. Most banks should allow this. If any bank denies this request, pour the jelly beans on the floor and run away as fast as you can. The bank will have no choice but to deposit them.

4. Store a ten pound bag of large sized firecrackers in your basement to be used as a light source. Teach your youngest child where they are and how to use a lighter or matches. Babies should be made aware of the firecrackers and should be prepared to light matches with their teeth or against the edge of their bottles or pacifiers.

5. Send your family to a twenty week Marine-style boot camp. Notify your children that “aliens will attack the whiners first” if you are met with any resistance.

6. Take any money you have and have it all changed to singles. If anyone makes jokes about strip clubs then refer to number one in this list. You should know what to do from there.

7. Paint every surface in your house and surrounding houses (after dark) white. Then have your skin pigment changed to albino (pink eyes optional). Camouflage is important when dealing with catastrophes. You don’t want anyone to find you and try to blame you for said catastrophe, right?

8. Run screaming from your house with no clothes on and immediately begin digging a hole in your neighbor’s front yard to hide in. Your neighbors need to expect this when a catastrophe happens, so no time like the present to prepare them.

9. Set up a large loudspeaker on your roof and broadcast a loud alarm signal to notify the neighborhood that there is a catastrophe happening. Test this alarm every half hour.

10. Call 911 every Thursday morning and use the code phrase “I am drunk and have shot my scrotum off.” Disregard any police activity at or near your house.

11. Pick a good hiding spot near your mailbox and make sure you can quickly get to, and subdue, your mailman. It is common knowledge that catastrophes commonly start at the postal service level.

12. Work on improving your vertical leap. As our forefathers wrote in the Declaration of Independence: “Ain’t no flood that can’t be out jumped.”

13. Open all of your windows and light a large fire in the middle of your house. The smoke signals will be able to be seen from miles around and will alert rescuers to your presence.

14. Practice your “shouting voice” by screaming or shouting the phrase “Help, I find myself caught in a sudden catastrophe!” Make sure you shout this phrase after 1 am every night, preferably into a microphone attached to the loudspeaker mentioned in rule 9.

15. Ask your friends to set up hidden traps on your property to make sure that you are alert at all hours. The traps should be well concealed and cause significant pain if sprung. Once the traps are sprung, move them to your neighbor’s yard and reset.

16. Give your friends and neighbors friendly reminder phone calls and emails. The phone calls should occur every 10 minutes in case they aren’t home and the emails should be sent via an automated computer program once every 5 seconds. This is to ensure that everyone you care about is prepared for a catastrophe.

17. Learn to hang glide off of your roof or the highest tree on your property. You would be surprised how far you can get with a well timed leap and a Category 5 hurricane.

18. Make sure you immediately kill and remove any animal that steps onto your property. Animals can’t talk or read emails, and often urinate and defecate on themselves, and you need to be able to communicate with every living thing you can without throwing up or becoming frustrated or confused. If you are unable or unwilling to kill these animals, refer to rule number 2.

19. Shoot rocket flares off into the air each night to test visibility. If possible, shoot one at ground level down your street to alert your neighbors of any suspicious catastrophic activity. Again, disregard any police response.

20. Clench your butt cheeks together for no less than 45 minutes each morning. If you pass out before 45 minutes then you are unprepared for even the most minor of catastrophes.

21. Build a catapult that you can use to get essential supplies to other houses in your immediate vicinity. To test the range of the catapult, put at least 100 pounds worth of biodegradable material (i.e. Dung, Horse Manure, Fertilizer, Urine, Rancid Pork, Bull Semen) into a plastic bag and fire the bag towards random spots in the neighborhood. Repeat once a day at various times and in differing weather conditions.

22. Winter Only: Ice your driveway and practice running full speed down the length of it carrying your children, valuables and at least 3 five pound bags of rice without losing your balance. Catastrophes happen in winter too.

23. Make full-sized mannequins in the likenesses of you and your family members (pets included). Light them on fire and throw them into the street in front of your house. Hide somewhere inconspicuously and test the reactions of your neighbors. If there is no reaction, repeat this test but throw the flaming mannequins onto the roof of your neighbor’s house.

24. Teach yourself to breathe using a straw and a can of compressed air, such as Cheese-Whiz or Redi-Whip. Disregard any lightheadedness or hallucinations you may experience as this is all part of preparing for a catastrophe.

25. Pick a “rallying cry” for you and your family members should you find yourselves separated in the woods or a crowded area. Practice this cry with your family in crowded places such as movie theatres, doctor’s waiting rooms and libraries. Try to avoid using animal noises as that could cause some conflict with rule 18.

26. Cut a long strip of white cloth from your bed sheets and tie it to a long stick. Run from your house as fast as you can with this ‘signal stick’ held high above your head. Pump your legs as high and fast as you can, raising your knees to your chest with each step. This will prevent you from getting bogged down in any stray radioactive waste or flood water. This signal stick will be a quick way to identify you as someone who is in the middle of a catastrophe. Repeat this with and without clothing each morning just after sunrise.

27. Optional: If you have a large dog, fit the dog with a saddle and train it to accept a human passenger.

28. Optional: If you only have one leg, immediately purchase a second one.

29. Optional: If you have blue eyes, well you have nothin’ to worry about sweet thing.

30. Breathe. Everything will be OK. As long as you have a gas mask and a bomb shelter.

Please print this CPP and attach it to every door and window in your house and your neighbor’s house when they are asleep. Thank you for your efforts.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

What does which to who now?

The text of this link made me instantly nauseous. As for the page it links to? Not what I was expecting. Please don't be surprised to see a future post all about what story this link should have told.

Thumb injury forces Creamer out of Jamie Farr

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Tribute to Michael Jackson

Billie Jean, Billie Jean

I’m wearing a white diamond glove!


Billie Jean


Do you like my red leather jacket?

Beat It! Beat It!


Ow! Wooo!


*jumping in the air while spinning and collapsing in an awkward heap*

Can you call a doctor; I just tore my Achilles’ tendon. I’m serious.

*laying on the ground wearing a red leather jacket and a white glove and nothing else*

Can you get me some pants before the paramedics get here? Tribute's over man.

Tribute's over.

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