Thursday, August 26th, 2010

And I got a new theme song….it’s Alejandro, by the lovely and talented Lady Gaga. Surprising right, probably thought that due to my absence and triumphant return, it would be something along the lines of whatever song contains the epic lyrics “AIN’T NOTHING GONNA BREAK MY STRIDE, AIN’T NOTHING GONNA HOLD ME DOWN,” etc. etc. but guess what, I’m a multi-layered beast. So, stay tuned for more surprises, other-wordly business and general ballyhoo-ing. And CONGRATS Powweb, specifically Mr. Isaiah V. who resurrected this site, and my soul from a desolate wasteland, not unlike purgatory.

Well, Powweb, you refuse to allow pictures to upload, which makes me sad, but I’ll cut you some slack instead of cutting your throat since i am back in cyberspace.

See all you turds on the flip side.


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Thursday, June 17th, 2010

I get it, you WERE gonna be the model for the Statue of Liberty. It was years and years ago….GET OVER IT. Besides you really wanna be remembered as a green behemoth wearing a sheet. I mean, that statue has arms like a ‘roided out linebacker. Not exactly how a demure little French lady, dead or alive, would see herself. I mean, she’s wearing Birkenstocks’ for Chrisssakes….

I get it, you had bit of a thing with old sculptor Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi, and little Freddie was a bit of a momma’s boy. Hey, not my problem that your idiot boyfriend wouldn’t commit. I got my own problems, ya dig? One of which being that I can’t seem to get a decent night sleep to save my life. See where I’m going with this? Passive aggressive, perhaps, but that’s my way.

Oh, I see…..he was a visionary. Sure, don’t they all have dreams, honey?  Always something more going on in that rinky little brain of Freddie’s right? And you, always the dutiful, supportive, ever suffering girlfriend. I bet you bought him plenty of lunches, sat in plenty of little French cafes drinking coffees, eating croissants waiting, waiting, waiting for him to show up….and I’d bet my left nut that he rarely did, and when he did stumble in drunk or outta sorts or stinking of perfume, you’d forgive him. He was a artist, after all….and you were gonna get your head on a giant statue.

And who got their pretty little head on the buffalo beast green lady……but, his overbearing, biyyytach of a mommy. Isn’t that always the way? The manipulative, controlling megalomaniacs ALWAYS get what they want…..don’t you get telenovellas in the afterlife?

This happened in 1885, why all the whining now? Shouldn’t you just track down  Freddie’s ghost and pour acid on him or lock him in a storage unit or whatever you do to punish a ghost?

Well, today may be the anniversary of the delivery of the Statue of Liberty…but ain’t nothing you can do about it now, babydoll. Time to pour yourself a stiff drink and accept that you bet on the wrong pony in the game of life. Hey, focus on the afterlife. Surely, some idiot is looking for a muse….and try to find a demon because chances are pretty good that he never even had a momma. Less competition.

So, let’s all just move on with our lives, I’ll go back to sleep and you fly away or whatever angry little French ghosts go.


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Wednesday, June 9th, 2010

I miss Arrested Development. Here is my friend and caretaker trying to get me to watch some stupid show about a lady and some d-bags, alleging looking for love….and maybe dignity. I will bet a bag of frozen pig nuts that they find neither. I miss Golden Girls and I miss Small Wonder. Where has all the creativity gone? Buried alongside my beloved Marc Jacobs shoes, perhaps?  I did eat those shoes for lunch last week, and the carcasses are buried in my yard…..Perhaps the wealth of amazing tv and movies was due to certain substances and supposed abuse of said substances. And thanks to Nancy’s “Just Say No” horsecrap, all the creativity was 12 stepped out of everyone. But, if the price we pay for sobriety is crappy tv, then bring on the coke and jim beam chasers. Let’s get it together, Hollywood. Not all of America can choke down this tripe. FYI, my buddy in this picture agrees with me. He was only trying to distract me from the BBQ that was happening. I do love  processed meats. Vienna beef hot dogs are proof that God exists and wants me to be happy….although, I guess it also shows that God wants horses to die. Ah, well. Get some better writers, tv….or I guess, given all this alleged reality show nonsense, just get any writers.


Tags: | Posted in Irritation level 12 | 1 Comment »


Monday, May 17th, 2010

Or, Moses. If you are leading your people out of slavery and into the promised land, then you can carry a walking stick. Hell, you can even have one with an insane bird head carved on the top.  If you are trapped in a forest, or even if you are going on a hike in the forest, you can use a walking stick. A regular one. BUT if you live here

Or are walking from the brown line stop to the theatre….

then for the love of god, you do not get to use a walking stick, not even if you bought one special order from a guy you met when you were in the Dells who claimed to have hiked Everest blindfolded with only the walking stick as a guide.

SO…… I saw one of your cohorts the other day. He was walking out of the red line stop at Grand/State.  Not only was he dressed for safari, but he had two fanny packs on. One in the front and one in the back. Which is all fine with me, I mean, maybe he just had a lot of stuff….but then I saw the walking stick. It was a good two feet taller than him, and was thick like a fat girl.  With from what I could tell, a silver panther sitting on top like a hood ornament for a shitty cadillac.

Then, I saw where he was going….perhaps you guessed it. Hopefully, you didn’t, because it doesnt make a lick of sense……My man was heading into the Jewel. To do a little grocery shopping. Or as we like to call it: city-hiking. Because that’s how we roll. When you have to leave your house to navigate the dangers of the grocery store, you need a few essential things: your industrial grade machete, your passport and a giant walking stick….

So listen up, walking stick wielders, we live in a society and there are rules. And the walking stick rules are as follows:

1. Wizards and old-testament heroes can use walking sticks.

2. A trip to the Jewel is not a safari, it is an errand.


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Monday, May 10th, 2010

Let me make one thing very clear. I love Gossip Girl. I love it almost as much as I love red velvet cupcakes and I would put on my umbro dual colored shorts and toss around the old medicine ball for a red velvet slice of heaven. And I HATE exercise. So…..I am at irritation level def-con 6 right now. I mean, it’s not as bad as ANY time when Vanessa is on-screen, which puts me at def-con 12, but this whole Serena business is still cringe-inducing.

SERENA! You’re killing me.  If a velociraptor can learn how to open a door, A DOOR!!!!!, then certainly you, Serena, an actual human being, can learn not to being so goddamn gullible.

But, you can’t. You refuse to learn. I mean, really? really?? You really thought your dad magically returned and wanted to reunite with you and do all sorts of dad-related activities?? Get it together, Serena. Retarded drunk monkeys could have figured out daddy’s ulterior motives quicker. And Dan as your go-to shoulder to cry on??….please don’t get back together.  For the record, I am opposed to this reunion, but if you do start banging your ex-boyfriend/current brother, then can I even think it…dare it be so, will Vanessa be banished??? Because if that’s the case, then slip him some vodka in that OJ during brunch and make it happen…..


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Thursday, May 6th, 2010

It’s not my fault, I swear to god. And speaking of god, no way he would have made shoes so tasty if he didn’t want me to eat them for lunch. I mean, nobody ever says that it is chocolate’s fault for being dessert.

So, who’d have thunk that my last week’s lunch would have come back to haunt me while I slept this afternoon.

When all I wanted was a little nappy-poo, I had this SOB circling around my brain…..

“Listen, shoe” I said, ” you are too delicious to live.”

The shoe just kept singing a song by Hannah Montana.  A hideously catchy one.

“And the J-Z song was on. And the Jay-Z song was on”

“Shoe,” I said, ” I understand that you are angry with me, but that song? It’s horrible. Perhaps I do deserve some punishment, but listening to that tripe on repeat is a punishment worse than death.”

“And the J-Z song was on. And the Jay-Z song was on.”

“Shoe! Stop!”

“I can’t. It’s stuck in my head. Damn you Hannah Montana. You are the worst.”

Then, the shoe banished itself to the netherworld, somewhere far far away, where she could get her brain wiped clean of Hannah Montana and her alleged music.

And the world was peaceful again. Until I felt a bubbling of some little tune deep within my soul, and when I started in on “J-Z song was on. And the Jay-Z song was on”  my punishment began…..and for the record, I have sworn off shoe-lunches and am returning to my old lunch: Lychee martinis.


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Wednesday, May 5th, 2010

HEY GANG, who has four paws, love naps and jokes?? This fat bulldog right here. So, here is the joke-o-the-day for all y’all. It was crafted in the bowels of hell and forged by the un-dead….ok, well, maybe my trusty Starbucks barista told it to me…..either way, ENJOY!!!

So, here goes…..JOKES!

What is the difference between a Hummer and a porcupine?????

A Hummer has pricks on the INSIDE!!!!!

OMG – It’s funny cuz it’s true.



Tags: | Posted in Jokes | 1 Comment »


Tuesday, May 4th, 2010

You may think that all candy is the same, that any candy is better than no candy….well, to my 4 loyal readers, you have been operating under a gross mischaracterization of the truth. I learned my lesson the sad way and because I love you all, the way I love  a DECENT  candy bar, I want to save you from the same humiliation. Here’s the facts……

I was in the movie theatre, and I may have been slightly overserved….it’s not my fault that watering holes insist on serving red wine in fish bowl sized glasses (if fish are gluttonous Asian carp)…..so, there I was standing, ok, FINE!! there I was swaying, in front of the candy counter. What I wanted was raisinettesRaisinets – they are my raison d’etre. Yes, I understand that I may be a d-bag for using that phrase, but I paid for that stupid Rosetta Stone and that’s all I remember, well that and something about Nutella. But, I digress. So, in my slightly inebriated state, I was talked into something hideous. Something grotesque. Something that makes me puke my ever loving guts out all over this lovely Apple desktop computer just thinking about it…..I bought this

Nestle Crunch

Oh, the horror. The sweet love of Christ. It was appalling. These alleged candies tasted like styrofoam caked in a homeless guy’s urine. i.e. not great and oddly sort of like asparagus. And what is even worse, is that I ate the ENTIRE box. The whole thing. I planned on returning it, tossing it in the acne filled face of that jag weed high schooler who operates the customer service counter like it’s a Nazi checkpoint, and demanding for my cash back and also some free movie passes as compensation for pain and suffering. BUT I couldn’t, because I ate the evidence. ARRRGGGGHHHH!

THE MORAL – Stand your ground when some slut behind the counter tells you that the Buncha Crunch is delicious because it most certainly is not delicious, it is garbage. It’s Raisinets you want. Oh, and see Kick-Ass. It wasn’t terrible.


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Monday, May 3rd, 2010

I consider myself pretty open-minded. I tried Clear Pepsi. I watched Will Farrell’s dramatic films (i wouldn’t advise him to quit his day job…but not as puke-inducing as I thought). I even ate at Chipotle once. HUGE, HUGE mistake…..but live and learn. I also consider myself to have a relatively firm grasp on reality…..and I certainly never thought what happened to me this morning, would ever happen to anyone who was not on a acid-induced mind fuck……But I was just sitting on my chair, settling in for a long overdue afternoon nap, when I turned into a flipping pencil drawing……

Ace in pencil

Yeah, that’s right. And I am certainly not in an A-Ha video. Literal version or otherwise……The pencil drawings were a little shaky and made me feel like I was on a cruise ship, which as per my previous post, does not make me a happy camper. So, while I do enjoy the delightful tunes of A-Ha and I especially enjoy the literal interpretation of the video, I’d prefer not to be involved in it. So, Take on Someone Else, please!!!!

Much obliged. And also, let me know when you are coming round to play a reunion tour….I am guessing that will take place at a state fair or maybe a local church picnic. Either way, I’m there.


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Friday, April 30th, 2010

I work hard. I get up every morning and eat breakfast. I don’t have a job, per se, but I try to do calisthenics 3 times a week, so I felt that I deserved a little vaca. A little R & R, as they say. So, I packed up my gear and headed down to Cabo. It was delightful.   Tacos, burritos, fried ice-cream. I fell asleep on the beach after a long day of doggy paddling up to the swim up bar for cocktails…..and when I woke up, the earth was cloaked in darkness.  Great mother of pearl, I thought, is it the night?

It was not the night…..it was the day. The sun was out, there was not a cloud in the sky, but there was a Vermont-sized boat blocking out the sun.

Carnivale Cruise Line

Boats are for baths,  not for blocking out the sun.

Carnivale cruise line, you stink. Why do you hate the sun?

The sun is nice.

The sun is an appropriate size.

You, the cruise lines, are mean and fat.

Cruise lines are jerks. You have always been jerks. Ever since the very first cruise, you have been an enemy of all that is good. You even hate Jack and Rose. Jack was king of the world, and you were probably jealous.

For reals, only crabby turds hate Jack and Rose.

jack and rose

Since you hate Jack and Rose,  and insist on blocking out the sun, I hate you Carnivale Cruise lines. And I will never set foot on your floating city, even if the earth flooded.


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