Category: Crazy

So you know how sometimes when you’re driving along on the interstate, the median between the roadways will be all forested and crap?

That’d be a good place to hide a body.

I mean, think about it. No one ever walks that area. Sure, there’s the occasional chain-gang or something picking up trash. But a foul smell would be attributed to road kill; not that bastard upstairs neighbor who brought home a rooster.

I’m just sayin’. So maybe don’t piss me off.

Happy Thanksgiving, my peeps!!!

Go read THIS ARTICLE and come back.

I’ll wait.

Back? Good. Let’s get started.

WTF is wrong with “kids these days”? I mean, seriously, WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT UP AN ALCOHOL ENEMA IN THE FIRST PLACE? And who is the stupid fucker who first gave it a shot? I can think of nothing dumber and more humiliating than having a TUBE shoved up my asshole by some drunk “friend” and THEN having booze poured down said tube and into said asshole. Also, leaving aside the obvious ridiculous stupidity of this stunt – WOULDN’T THERE BE EXCESS FLUID? That would then have to DRAIN somewhere? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that cavity isn’t designed to hold large quantities of liquid. SO, not only would you be colossally stupid, but you’d also be dripping a delightful cocktail of booze and shit out of your ass.

WHERE DO I SIGN UP? *defeated sigh*

So I have this habit of doing nice things for people. This doesn’t make me awkward.

What makes me awkward is the fact that when people say “Thank you” after doing something nice for them, I generally respond with anything BUT the words “You’re welcome.”

So they’re met with something along the lines of “Mmm hmmmm” and no eye contact.



Soooo apparently someone yesterday entered the following into the Googles: http://www.handuptheasshole

And ended up here.

Sorry ’bout that man. Whoever you are. I’m sure my diatribe on stupid Americans being loosed into the world was not exactly what you were hoping to find. Maybe next time try a Boolean search. I hear those work much better.

I once daydreamed about THIS.

Today…a lady was invading my personal space on a fairly empty elevator. So I fake coughed on the back of her neck.

She moved.

Which means that the lesson I learned is: Sometimes indulging my impulse control problem leads to desirable results.


Or hate me. But don’t unfriend me on Facebook. I think we all know how well that goes…

It’s just, I don’t get the hoopla surrounding that book Fifty Shades of Grey. I mean, it’s nothing more than poorly written fan fic based upon the Twilight series (another pile of garbage I will never understand). Go check out 50 Shades of Suck if you don’t believe me about the poor writing. Now, it’s not like I require Dickensian writing in all of my books; but if it can’t find a coherent plot (or sentence) with two hands and a flashlight then we should all just move along while someone sets all of the copies on fire.

My theory is that people with ordinary lives like to believe themselves to be “edgy.” So it’s similar to when books like Madame Bovary, The Grapes of Wrath and Slaughterhouse-Five came out. Those publications were widely derided as nothing but obscene trash – like Fifty Shades of Grey. Only, unlike Madame Bovary, The Grapes of Wrath and Slaughterhouse-Five – Fifty Shades of Grey is epically bad and it is only the subject matter that is titillating. Thus, while it may make people feel “edgy” it is certainly not a novel that will withstand the test of time.

Ultimately, it’s just sex, peeps. It happens all the damn time. I assure you, someone is doing it right now. Maybe even while reading this blog. Except probably not. Though I guess that might be very masochistic of them. SEE WHAT I DID THERE?


I hate meeting new people. Basically, because I hate that awkward small talk that is required by society when getting to know someone. I’m also awkward in social settings (especially those involving new people) unless I’ve been drinking. And even then, I suspect I am still awkward but I just don’t realize or care because I am drunk.

As only one example of my social awkwardness…on occasions too numerous to count I have done the following: See person, recognize person, delightfully say “HELLO!” to and smile at person before brain has chance to process the fact that the person I have just delightfully said hello to and smiled at broadly is someone I dislike. Intensely.

This person usually knows of my intense dislike of them and thus, is confused as to why I have apparently just delighted in their sighting.

My only hope is that they somehow think that I am mind-fucking them. If only I were truly that diabolical. Oh the places I could go.


I got my Father’s Day gift idea email from JA today. It contained the following photo:

DYING! And yet, duh, not a shocker.

I have recently become obsessed with most things JA. Am currently coveting about a dozen lamps, pillows and the most amazing cocktail table ever.

The price tag is a bit overwhelming, but something about it calls to me. If I get a Christmas bonus this year, it might be purchased and living in my house by New Year’s. We shall see.

**EDIT** I totally just noticed that corkscrew is RIGHT above the DILF pillows. I DON’T THINK THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT.

I’ve found that people these days don’t care about facts. Or who said what. Or where the “information” they’ve quoted comes from.

Just so long as the word vomit regurgitates their own beliefs back to them they’re perfectly willing to pass it on ad nauseum (that’s a lot of vomit for one sentence. FYI.).

I long for days of meaningful political discourse; where intelligent conversations were had without one party devolving into name-calling or abject reliance on MSNBC or FOX News.

When did doubt become a bad thing? Why is a change of heart and mind something to be vilified rather than celebrated?

An open mind isn’t a bad thing. It’s something to be celebrated. It means we are capable of change, of reinvention…capable of outside-the-box solutions to problems that eluded our forefathers.

The thought of a stagnant society for the sake of walking the beaten path is a society that is dead before it’s laced its proverbial shoes.

I’ll pass on that one. Thanks.


Not for nothing…but I bet your dad couldn’t find one.