Nazareth Carpenter Being Held On Charges Involving Underage Mother

Bethlehem, Judea - Authorities were today alerted by a concerned citizen who noticed a family living in a barn. Upon arrival, Family Protective Service personnel, accompanied by police, took into protective care an infant child named Jesus, who had been wrapped in strips of cloth and placed in a feeding trough by his 14-year old mother, Mary of Nazareth.

During the confrontation, a man identified as Joseph, also of Nazareth, attempted to stop the social workers. Joseph, aided by several local shepherds and some unidentified foreigners, tried to forestall efforts to take the child, but were restrained and tasored by the police.

Also being held for questioning are three foreigners who allege to be wise men from an eastern country. The INS and Homeland Security officials are seeking information about these who may be in the country illegally. A source with the INS states that they had no passports, but were in possession of gold and other possibly illegal substances. They resisted arrest saying that they had been warned by God to avoid officials in Jerusalem and to return quickly to their own country. The chemical substances in their possession will be tested.

The owner of the barn is also being held for questioning. The manager of Bethlehem Inn faces possible revocation of his license for violating health and safety regulations by allowing people to stay in the stable. Civil authorities are also investigating the zoning violations involved in maintaining livestock in a commercially- zoned district.

The location of the minor child will not be released, and the prospect for a quick resolution to this case is doubtful. Asked about when Jesus would be returned to his mother, a Child Protective Service spokesperson said, 'The father is middle-aged and the mother is definitely underage. We are checking with officials in Nazareth to determine what their legal relationship is.'

Joseph has admitted taking Mary from her home in Nazareth because of a census requirement. However, because she was obviously pregnant when they left, investigators are looking into other reasons for their departure. Joseph is being held without bond on charges of molestation, kidnapping, child endangerment, and statutory rape.

Mary was taken to the Bethlehem General Hospital where she is being examined by doctors. Charges may also be filed against her for endangerment. She will also undergo psychiatric evaluation because of her claim that she is a virgin and that the child is from God.
The director of the psychiatric wing said, 'I don't profess to have the right to tell people what to believe, but when their beliefs adversely affect the safety and well-being of others - in this case her child - we must consider her a danger to others. The unidentified drugs at the scene didn't help her case, but I'm confident that with the proper therapy regimen we can get her back on her feet.'

A spokesperson for the governor's office said, 'Who knows what was going through their heads? But regardless, their treatment of the child was inexcusable, and the involvement of these others frightening. There is much we don't know about this case, but for the sake of the child and the public, you can be assured that we will pursue this matter to the end.'

* sent to me by Maddy
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Just Real Quick

Don't - don't you want me

As a Dallas Cowboys fan, I just want to say, any man who comes to a Cowboys game and DOESN'T want to see this, is a blazing homosexual and a shameful excuse for a man. I mean, seriously, what kind of man would rather see a bunch of sweaty guys throwing interceptions than look at Jessica Simpson's hot, authentic, non-silicon, genuine Texas woman body? You fuckers need to grow a pair.


And no, Jessica didn't cause Dallas to lose to Philadelphia last weekend. In case you failed to notice, Dallas didn't exactly shut down Green Bay and they didn't even have Brett Favre or their 2 starting corners, so get the fuck over it and leave the girl alone. Professionals don't lose because a hot girl is in a skybox. But sometimes they lose when their thumb is all hosed up and they can't hold onto the ball. Quit booing the hot chick!

pee park
We no boo Jessica

In the United States, we have our police scouring the roads looking to Taser men in the genitals for not wearing seatbelts or raising their voices. We arrest men who go into parks and pay $5 for a blowjob from some homeless guy in Memphis (yes, seriously, yuck.) We use our cops to pimp for female prostitutes, refusing to arrest them, but arresting instead the men who need them and then labeling those desperate men as sex offenders, as if any sex a man has is a crime simply by virtue of the fact that he is a man.

But in China, they have pee parks. Yes, pee parks. I don't know what it is, but perhaps the following photo is an indication?

China - the next great world power?

Down in Australia, apparently they have a tradition of partying like mad throughout the entire month of December, spreading Christmas cheer for a good 30 days instead of just the one. Businesses are hoping to get more productivity out of their lively and fun-loving Aussie employees, so they're encouraging them to drink less and work more. They say it's working and that the annual Christmas partying is now down to about 2 weeks or so. Personally, I think they should leave matters alone and just send free plane tickets to overworked and frustrated Americans who need a good break. Drunken American tourists would spend enough money while down there, drinking and laughing, to more than make up for the lost productivity. Then, when it was all over, we'd pick up our shit and go back home. They call this win-win in the business world. I say the Australian establishment should give it a try. I'll be anxiously waiting for my ticket, bags packed and ready to go.

Ho ho ho, mate!
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Wa ha there, Pilgrim

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Hump Day

bad landing

As I left the house this morning, I saw a bright, shining star up in the sky. And then I thought perhaps it was a burning plane crashing down. It was so bright, it was hard to look at. I kept watching it as it fell. It reminded me of an skit from a really old episode of Saturday Night Live, involving Steve Martin and Dan Akroyd:

"What the hell is that?"
"Yeah, what the hell IS that?"
"What the hell is that?"
"Oooooh, I know what that is."
"Oh, yeah."
long pause
"What the hell IS that?"


Anyway, the light went out, leaving nothing but a long tail of smoke behind. It was a flare.

Just as it went out, someone fired another one. By this time, I was in my truck and driving to work, watching this odd sight out my window, instead of worrying about the road because, let's face it, I'm the only person for miles out here.

By the time I reached 'town', as we like to call it when we get to the "Reduced Speed: 45 mph" sign, there were 6 smoke trails in the sky, with one burning flare still going. And I'll be damned if I could figure out where the hell the person firing the flares was.

What good do flare guns do if they shoot up so high that no one can figure out where the hell the person who fired them is? I mean, sure I may be aware that someone is firing flares. They may be hurt and in need of help. They may be lost out in those woods somewhere, with a bullet from a deer rifle in their ass or something. But if I have to use the flare to figure out where they are, they're shit out of luck. There's just no way.

Did you ever wonder why The Professor, with all his amazing inventions that he made out of coconuts and Mary Ann's bras, never made a simple flare gun to shoot whenever a plane flew by on Gilligan's Island? Speaking of that, why didn't he ever 'make' Mary Ann? What kind of men were those guys on that island, with both Ginger and Mary Ann being hotter than a July day in Texas, that not a one of them ever jumped on either of those girls? I don't know about back then, but these days if those girls were stuck on that island with such weak excuses for men, they'd start doing each other. Either that or they'd spike one of those coconut cream pies and get the guys drunk enough to have a little courage between them. And then there'd be some hot, hetero action, finally.

no sex

Maybe that's why the network cancelled that show at the height of it's success? Maybe the network executives and their Gunsmoke-loving wives just couldn't stand making a show where three single men didn't even TRY to jump on two smokin' hot single women on a deserted island.

Anyway, when I turned down the last street to go to work, half the Boondocks City police department was waiting for me.

"Uh, officer, I didn't even know she was only 16, I swear. I thought she was her older sister, Britney. Really, they look just alike!" I lied.

But as it turned out, they weren't there to arrest me. They were just there to block off the road that I needed to drive down in order to go to work. All I could see behind them was some truck with a hose and some guys watering down a foundation for reasons I guess only they and God understand. The cop directed me to drive down the highway to "the new road next to the new WalMart" in order to go around the whole obstruction.

How sad that WalMart, which hasn't even completed construction yet, is already a fucking landmark? That's how small this town is.

"Go down 3 blocks 'til you pass Jacob's old barn - it ain't there no mo', but he useta train Morgans and there's still a couple'a wagons he left behine when they done run off 'n got run over. Turn left at them thar wagons 'n go about, oh, say a tenth of a mile until you see a red Camaro with a sycamore tree growing up through the windshield and turn left thar. Then go until you pass the new WalMart and then right thar you get back on highway 93. Yup. That's hows you do it!"

Anyway, I took the road the cop told me to. It led me to a neighborhood we nearly bought a house in, which we THOUGHT was going to be closed off with only the original 2 entrances and no through traffic. Ah, but now there's a whole new WalMart road piercing it right in the heart that would have just PISSED US OFF if we'd moved there. I took that road and it led me to another damn cop.

"You have to go right," he said, motioning me to turn right.

"I have to go to work," I said, turning my wheels left.

"Oh, ok, go behind me," he replied. And then he waved.

Cops here will wave to you. I like this town. Even if they did once pull me over and yell at me for my habit of taking photos while driving. Past flaming accidents that are in the center of the road. With cops and firemen standing all around it. One of whom glared at me and my camera as I clicked my last photo. Then he jumped into his Chevy SUV and tore after me. Ah, but that's another story.

So I drove around the cop and went towards work, wondering why the first cop didn't let me go to my job instead of sending me to WalMart. A big 18-wheeler pulled from a neighborhood right in front of me.

"How the hell did YOU get past the cops," I wondered to myself. "Dammit" is was I said out loud, though.

And now I'm here at work. I was late. Hardly anyone else was here. The place is partly deserted for Christmas, and partly for people trying to figure out how to get here with cops directing everyone to WalMart. There hasn't been much blog traffic at all today. I visited ADW's fabulous blog and tried to get her to send me her address so I can send her a Christmas card, but she's having none of it. I tried to catch up on Marlayna's blog, but suddenly it's set to private and I'm not able to get in. I was just reading it yesterday, too. I visited Tug, whom I have never come across before. It seems everyone else has been to her blog, though, and someone I'm the last one to discover it. And that's only because she found me first.

This coffee isn't quite doing it. And my problem with my code in SQL Server still isn't resolved. I've been banging my head against this for days and it's frustrating me. Meanwhile, SQL Server has swallowed every last drop of memory my computer has to offer and it's wanting to crash real bad. Slowly but surely, I've had to shut down every other application. This browser is next.

Time to get back to work.

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A Survey, a Meme, a Thing I stole from Lucie on MySpace

From the original: "Here's a survey (bulletin) for the lonely/boring times

My snarky little brother posted it & I didn't feel like going through & deleting his replies... a few were somewhat amusing. Just not as amusing as Nude Memphis" (oh YEAH, baby!)

OK, here are MY answers, not her snarky brother's:

1. Would you bang your neighbor?
I met a few of my new neighbors at a Christmas party last week and I can honestly say, sure, why not. The hottest woman at the party left just about the time I arrived, which means either I was really, really late, which I was, or else she looked at me and said 'psycho - get me out of here'. If I ever see her again I'll chase her down, tackle her, and ask which it was.

2. What words describes your last relationship?
Heart breaking

3. Do you think it's fair to add whatever questions you want to a survey or meme when there are several numbers missing?
I'm doing it right now, baby!

4. What's the last movie you saw?
Amelie, a French movie with subtitles that I watched while flying high on medicine. It turned out to be pretty good, though, and she was a hottie, so when she finally got naked I was really glad I sat through the entire thing. Or maybe I hallucinated that.

5.I've come to realize the last person who held my hand...
Doesn't know what love is

6. What is your middle name.
It's the name between my first and last name.

7. Who have you talked to most today
I'm not sure if I've spoken to anyone all morning. This is the exciting life of a Genius. I probably have my most open conversations with my PC. I say, "You are a worthless piece of shit" and he responds, "I'm crashing now." We're completely straight with each other.

8. Do you carve pumpkins every year?
No, I carve single women that I've lured into my van. No wait, that was the medicine again. I think I passed out in front of "Criminal Minds" the other night. It's always the white male on CBS. I don't even have to watch anything beyond the first 5 minutes to know how the story is going to go. I'm sure somewhere in their office building is a big old banner saying "always blame the white man". That's the CBS company motto.

9. Color of your boxers?
Blue, with green Grinches all over them. Or maybe it's the Cat in the Hat? I can't remember.

10. Color of your shirt?
Bangladesh blue with strings perpetually hanging off that I swear I cut off every day. Do we manufacture ANYTHING in America anymore?

11. I'm always ...
gassy like a Saudi oil well

12. Who's on speed dial 2? 4? 6?
Jessica Biel, Carmen Electra, Jennifer Love Hewitt

13. Honestly, how many boys/girls have u been in love with?
No boys, couple of girls

14. What’s your favorite season?
Fuck season.

15. How do you feel right now?
So tired, I'm not even sure if I'm really writing this or it's just a dream, a really, really lame dream.

16. Are you a bad influence?
Are you a worse person than me? If so, then no, you are. If not, then yes - hey c'mere, I wanna show you something.

17. If you could live your life over again, would you be willing to stop here and go back?
Yes, I'd go back to 9th grade and screw my way through school. I would major in finance, which is easy as hell, and make a fortune on the market 'cause I'd already know what is going to go big and what is going to crash when.

18. Rather have your name or your siblings name?
My parents were nothing if not uncreative. Each of our names are equally boring and uninspired. I spent most of my childhood thinking my name was 'Number Five'.

19. Would you do anything for someone else?
No, not a thing for anyone. Get off my blog.

20. Have you ever been called a bitch?
When I was 7 years old, Mike Polites couldn't come up with a decent comeback to any of the plethora of curse words I was pelting him with, so he called me a 'bitch' and then said "that's worse 'cause it means you're a girl." Who knew that Mike was so far ahead of his time and the entire black community? Had any feminists caught him saying this, though, he wouldn't have survived to see the day that black men everywhere were using his idea in rap music. Even now, Oprah Winfrey has a team of 'antifeminist hunters' out looking for him. I hear he's had to go into hiding down in Argentina somewhere.

21. Do you drink, smoke and chew, and do you go with girls who do?
I'd go with Carmen Electra if she snorted Pixie Sticks through her nose. I don't care how healthy her habits are. I just wanna dance the Vajayjay with her.

22. What is your ringtone?
It depends on who's calling. For you, the ringtone is "The Stripper". You probably don't even remember why, do you? Yeah, we told you that you passed out, but we didn't tell you what you did before you passed out. You're a YouTube star, baby!

23. What song is on?
On what? I have no radio here. You want me to play a song on my PC? OK, I choose "Dancing Queen" by Abba, because I feel like a disco fag in this shirt right now. Ooh, where is my Trans Am? I should get some half-boots to go with these shiny plastic pants. And grow a porn mustache. Yeah, baby! See why I don't listen to music at work? This is your fault.

24. Are your grades good?
I might have good grades if I were to go back to school. I'm thinking I should get an MBA and start a car wash. Doesn't this sound like a great idea? Woo hoo! Workin' at the car wash, yeah! Sorry, still got that whole disco thing in my head. Lemme find some Black Sabbath and blast it right out of there.

25. Do u hate anyone?
I hate the whole world, man. The devil sends the beast with wrath because he knows the ... oops, that's not Sabbath. Sorry, I picked the wrong song. Iron Maiden is for gym workouts only. Otherwise I start heaving printers through walls and shit.

26. Does your best friend have a myspace?
I don't have a best friend. If you pay me or blow me you can be my best friend and from then on, whenever I get a thing like this asking me about my best friend, I'll point everyone to you, OK?

27. Have you ever slept with your best friend's sister/brother
No, but if I had it all to do over again, I would. I was such a mangled up mental case growing up and they were so ready to go. What a waste!

28. Last time you went out to lunch?
Last week sometime. I think we went to ... um ... a cheap pizza buffet place, where you get a whole lot of not very good pizza for a lot of money. You can tell who their regular customers are because they're all really fat. It was crap.

29. Does the opposite sex find you attractive?
Usually they find me standing outside their windows in the bushes. And after that, the police find me hiding under a car or up a tree. Did you know they'll Taser you even while you're up a tree, and then let you fall on your head? Yeah, spread the word. This is important to keep in mind.

30. Who is your favorite character from Friends?
Monica, 'cause when that show was new and they were all about 21, she was SMOKIN'. Then again, so was Rachel. You pretty much couldn't go wrong with either of them, but Monica was the hotter of the two at first.

31. Do you have a tattoo?
A midget who calls me 'Boss' and tells me when a plane is landing in my lagoon? No, I've never had one of those.

32. Do you want one?
No, I'd rather have a hot 25-year-old woman do that job for me.

33. Do you have one or more britney spears CDs?
No, I can't say that I do. But Jessica Simpson is asleep in my guest room right now. Maybe I could ask her if she's got any I could borrow just to make you happy?

34. What did you do last night?
Ate at an Italian restaurant and then moved boxes of crap around in the garage. Whee, SO exciting. I had to take Jessica to the airport so she could go to the Cowboys game to be with her bo, but I hear she's dumping him after last night. I don't know why. Who won that game, by the way?

35. Are you a "Lost" fanatic?
All I know is that a huge cast of actors are on Gilligan's Island and there is a WWII plane in a tree, which fell out and hurt some guy, and a fat guy with lots of hair from the last season of "Becker" is there, and I have no fucking idea what is going on.

36. Say you were given a drug test right now. Would you pass or fail?
It depends on what drugs they were looking for. If they're testing for Nyquil or Robitussin, I'd be in BIG trouble.

37. Do you have a song by Ozzy Osbourne in your library?
Just one? Yes, I do. I have many. Take your pick. Hey, you know that whole "Momma, I'm coming home" song seemed really lame and pathetic until I found out that he calls his wife "momma." I thought, why is a 60-year-old man going home to live with his mother and not totally ashamed of this?

38 through 41 confiscated by Department of Homeland Security
You bastards!

42. What's the last thing you bought?
Probably a DVD or CD. I haven't actually clicked the "process order" button on Amazon yet, but I have a bunch of DVDs in my shopping cart over there right now. No wait, the last thing I've bought was flowers for Ashley! Now I remember. Last week is a blur to me. Merry Christmas, Ashley! Make those boys jealous. You deserve some attention, dammit! A beautiful girl should not be ignored.

43. What's the last thing someone bought you?
Silk Santa boxers with a little red hat. Don't ask. I think there's some fuzzy handcuffs involved, but I won't know until Christmas.

44. Do you ever sing in the shower?
Only when I'm having sex. No wait, that's her. I grunt rhythmically.

45. What's in your CD player right now?
Dirt, apparently. "Mamma, I'm ... Mamma, I'm .... Mamma, I-I-I-I-I" - DAMMIT!!!!

46. What’s your favorite movie?
I don't know. Something involving a lot of beautiful naked women, probably. Like "Bufford's Beach Bunnies" starring Tom Hanks' younger brother. That shit was FUNNY.

47. If you had a chance to do porn, would you?
Wow, they've REALLY dropped their standards, haven't they?

48. Do you believe everyone has a soulmate?
No, this is some shit Oprah made up in the late 20th century to make bitter feminists feel better about sleeping with their dog because they can't find a man willing to put up with all their shit. They console each other by saying "you just haven't found your soulmate yet." Yes, you have. He heard you whining on and on about hating men and ran off.

49. Can you sing?
Like a finely tuned lawnmower.

50. Do you have any deep emotional issues that you haven't dealt with?
What are you implying, you fuckwad? There's nothing wrong with me! I don't have a problem, YOU'VE got the problem!

51. Have you ever been to another country?
Yes, but they sent me back. Now they tell me I'll need a passport before they'll let me out again.

52. Have you ever committed a crime in another country?
No, 16 is legal in Canada. Anyway, that was a long time ago and I was on drugs, which are also legal in Canada. Pretty much everything is legal in Canada, really. That's why we go there.

53. Are you ever a freak about cleanliness or organization?
No, I'm mostly a freak about thigh-high leather boots and fuzzy handcuffs. She's a very kinky girl, the kind you don't take home to mother. I'm Rick James, bitch!

54. Have you ever been to South America or Africa?
No, but I chased a red hot Brazilian girl in college for awhile. I was too much of a loser to get her, though, and she moved off to Florida to make her fortune. Leah (lay-UH) Perez was her name. She had a hot younger sister named Regina. They were both so hot, if they stood too close together, men burst into flames.

55. Do you know how to knit?
Why, did you rip your yarn panties or something?

56.Do you have a job?
As long as I don't spend too much time answering this, I do.

57. Have you ever written love song lyrics yourself and put them on mypace?
I wrote a lame-assed song to go with a melody that was stuck in my head after listening to Regina Spektor songs all day. It didn't make any sense to anyone because no one knew what the melody in my head was, but I didn't care because I'm really selfish like that.

58. What are you doing right now besides this survey?
Looking for a Kleenex while I pull my underwear out of my ass.

59. If you had to leave the country you're in and go live in a different country, where would you go?
Everyone who knows me has heard the rumor that I'm packing my bags right now to go to Australia and marry Steph. Even Steph has heard this. That's why she changed her locks and bought new pepper spray. That stuff really hurts, by the way. And she doesn't even have good aim. It just goes everywhere.

60. Baskin Robbins or Coldstone?
I'm not so picky that I'd turn down one over the other. I'll take either one, but Coldstone is better and Baskin Robbins may be building a place here in The Boondocks where I am.

61. Physics or chemistry?
I liked both. In chemistry you got to blow shit up. In physics, you got to calculate how fast you could push a race car before it flew off the track and crashed into the cheap seats. Wait, I blew something up in physics lab once. But it had nothing to do with the experiment we were doing. I just got bored and my lab instructor was a suckwad from India who didn't speak English well enough to figure out how to yell at me for blowing up the lab table, so he just looked at me, as I was sitting there with smoke pouring off of me and my lab partner. Then he turned and went back to writing on the board without saying a word. I couldn't believe I got away with that. None of the lab instructors in the science building at UAH speak English, so you can get away with all kinds of shit.

62. Facebook or Myspace?
I don't care. It's not like I own stock in one of them or somehow make any money from them.

63. Do you wear any jewelery?
My cock ring is chaffing.

64. What's the stupidest thing you've ever done?
I can't remember her name.

65. G's or R's?
I'd like to buy a vowel, Vanna.

66. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, or Star Wars?
I'll do Hermoine from Harry Potter, although Fleur del Acore would be fine, too. From Lord of the Rings, I'd like to do the New Zealand woman who played the king's daughter who ended up sticking a sword in the Ring wraith's face. And from Star Wars, I'd do Natalie Portman, but first I'd tie her up, 'cause she's just a tad freaky. Is this the question or did I misunderstand?

67. Fly or road trip?
I'd fly if I could get on without having to spend 2 days in the fucking airport getting raped by affirmative action Feds who never find my guns, but always manage to steal shit and make me walk around naked while they're Tasering some poor lost Polish man to death.

68. Batman, Spiderman, or Superman?
I'd do Batgirl. Spiderwoman sucked so bad, I don't think they even tried to make a movie for her. I seem to recall Supergirl super-kicking some guying in the groin in her lame-assed movie, so she can sleep alone with her dog for all I care.

69. What's your favorite Disney movie?
Anything made before Walt died and the gay pedophiles took over is better than the twisted shit they've made since.

70. (added by Tony) Anything you wanna say to people reading this?
Blow me and be my best friend!

OK, now I'm going to tag people to do this quiz just for the fuck of it. And also I'm not going to tell them I've tagged them. I'm fucking lazy and my head is spinning like a stripper on a freshly oiled pole.

I tag:

Bella, who was just here a minute ago
Bottle Blonde, my workout partner
ADW The Ex-Hooters Girl, who is feeling stressed and is going to beat me up
Shrinking Kitty, Melbourne's wildest girl gone wild
Steph, my e-wife who was e-divorcing me, causing me to become e-depressed until she changed her e-mind
Kylie, who never reads my shit or comments on it even after I sent $400 in purses to the address she gave me
Lightning Bug's Butt, who NEVER accepts tags or does memes
Stacy The Peanut Queen, 'cause she's sick with the same thing I am
President Bush, 'cause he's a funny guy when he's drunk
Mohatma Ghandi, he was a fashionista and didn't know it
Mohammad, 'cause us white terrorism targets want to know what's he all about, dude
The Easter Bunny, cause he leaves eggs in my yard and they rot and stink like ass

OK, so that's who I tag for this. I love this cold medicine. Oooh, pretty colors!

chinese stoner
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Hung Chow

hung chow

Hung Chow calls into work and says, "Hey, I no come work today, I really sick. Got headache, stomach ache and legs hurt, I no come work."

The boss says, "You know something, Hung Chow, I really need you today. When I feel like this, I go to my wife and tell her to give me sex. That makes everything better and I go to work. You try that."

Two hours later Hung Chow calls again.

"I do what you say. I feel great. I be at work soon. You got nice house."

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A Meme from MyAss

1. Name and Gender:
Memphis is my name. I don't have a 'gender' - I have a 'sex' and it's male. Gender is for nouns, biotch.

2. What describes your relationship situation?:
I'm married in Tennessee, e-married in Sydney, e-separated in Toronto, and e-stalking in Wisconsin.

3. Where were you three hours ago?:
In a meeting with God. He said you're in big trouble.

4. What was the last show you watched?:
I don't know. Probably a football game. Anyone else notice that CBS refuses to show the cheerleaders?

6. What kind of sun glasses do you wear?:
The kind that help block the sun from your eyes, especially the UV parts of the sun.

7. Who was your last conversation with and what was it about?:
My boss, about various projects and people I'm assigned to kill. Oops, I shouldn't have said that.

9. What kind of cell phone do you have?:
Verizon LG Super Secret Agent Shoe Phone

10. Color of your shirt?
Black, or as they say in South Africa, Bleck

11. Do you hate anyone?
I kill as a matter of professional courtesy, not out of hate. It's nothing personal.

12. Ever had sex for money?
Yes, but then she wouldn't pay, so I had to kill her.

13. What kind is your underwear?
The kind that you wear around your privates.

14. Ever been to the beach at night?
Yes, and sometimes even with clothes on.

15. What is on your wallpaper on your phone?
I never put any on it, but there are a few coffee stains and a little blood.

16. Are you a bad influence?
It depends on how bad you were when I met you.

17. What was the last argument you had about?
Do these jeans make my butt look fat?
No, but your butt sure is stretching the hell out of those jeans.

18. Rather have your name or your siblings name?
I'll stay with mine. It would just confuse things at Christmas otherwise.

19. Have a crush on anyone?
Sure, I love you, babe. - David Cassidy actually said that to Vanna White once. It was SO funny 'cause it sounded SO '70s and he was serious. Anyway .... me? Have a crush on someone? Nooooooooooo, never.

20. Do they like you back?
Oh, who the hell knows.

21. Favorite color right now?

22. Ever held a baby?
Nobody puts Baby in a corner!

23. Last song you heard?
Hey There Vagina - by Steph

24. Wear glasses?
No, last time I was checked I had 20/15 vision. Then again, I've seen a lot of porn since then, so it may have deteriorated some and I just don't know it yet.

25. Last thing someone bought you?
Apparently someone bought me some porn using my credit card just yesterday morning. Discovercard called to tell me all about it and now I don't have a Discovercard anymore until the new one arrives. Yay!

26. Have you lost your respect for anyone recently?
Well, don't tell her, 'cause I swore I'd still respect her in the morning, but yeah, just a little bit.

27. Does your best friend have a myspace?
That would depend on who is my best friend. It could be you, for the right price.

28. Whose page did you visit last?
Bettie Page - she's still got it, baby!

29. Speak to any of your ex's?
I haven't heard from any of them in a long time. I don't even know where they live anymore, and I really don't care. But as for my O's, I talk to them all the time.

30. Where is your phone?
I keep it in the crack of my ass because it's so annoying to have it banging around in my pocket. Whenever it rings, I just fart and out it comes, all flipped open and ready to go. Thank God for that speakerphone option, though, 'cause ain't no way I'm ever putting it up to my face again.

31. Do you paint your nails Or get them done?
No, I am not gay or Goth or stoned.

32. How often do you get your hair done?
Done? I get it cut. I don't get it 'done' though. That sounds like a mindfuck. 'Yeah, my hair just got done. Now it's having a cigarette and enjoying the afterglow.'

33. Would you rather have a bouquet of flowers bought for you or a single one?
I don't care anything about flowers. If some beautiful woman sent me flowers or a flower I'd be far more interested in who she was. Otherwise, why am I getting flowers and what am I supposed to do with them?

34. Do you like shopping?
For new tools or hookers maybe, but not in general.

35. If you had kids, what would you name them?
Boy: Viagra Cialis Cunnilingus Jones
Girl: Propecia Abreva Vagisil Jones

WHERE iS 36-38??
The IRS took them as part of that damned Alternative Minimum Tax.

39. Do you watch Family Guy regularly?
No, I regularly never watch Family Guy.

40. Do you like your job or school?
My job is a job. It pays me money. I spend the money on hookers and beer. I like hookers and beer. Therefore I have a job.

41. Do you read trashy romance novels often?
No, but if they had pictures I might.

42. If you could go on vacation where would you go?
A whorehouse on a beach in Thailand. If they only had a whorehouse inside the Jack Daniels distillery, and moved the whole thing to a nice beach in the Caribbean, it would be heaven. Why hasn't anyone thought of this before?

43. Do you sing in the car?
I sing just like Boy George whenever the cops pull me over.
"Do you really wanna hurt me? Do you really want to make me cryyyyyyy?"

44. Do you ever sing in the shower?
No, but sometimes I fart very melodically. My shower has excellent tonal qualities.

45. What's in your CD player right now?
A porn DVD. I can't see the pictures, but I can hear them moaning. It keeps me awake during rush hour.

46. Last person to tell you they loved you?
My real estate agent after collecting that commission. Good God!

47. How often are you on The Blog?
Some days I'm on and off all day long. Other days I'm so busy I barely have time to fart and I don't get to visit anyone's fabulous blogs at all. It doesn't mean I don't love you. It just means I'm making money for them hookers and beer.

48. Britney Spears or Paris Hilton?
No, please. I don't even want to tap that ass. Herpes is for life.

49. What's your biggest fear?
That God is a lesbian feminist and this is all just a giant mindfuck.

50. Do you dream? Are they bad?
I have a recurring dream that I'm having sex with beautiful women in foreign lands, and then they all blog about my sexual prowess in bed. I think in my last dream I was with some brunette in Sydney, Australia and she kept calling me "Hillsong Boy" or something like that. I think I really impressed her.

51. When that person said they loved you, did they mean it?
Oh, I doubt it, but I paid them enough that I should have at least gotten a hooker out of the deal.

52. What does your last text say?
"Bumper sticker in front of me: my other ride is a U.S. sailor"

53. From who?
Erin the Great

54. Last person spoke to on the phone?
Mary from the Discovercard Fraud Detection Unit

55. Do you like to dance?
How drunk am I? It directly correlates to that. If you've ever seen me dance then you know why.

And apparently, that is all. Don't cry, though. I'm sure I'll have more irrelevant self-centered bullshit to tell you about myself later this week. Try not to miss me too much until then. I know it's hard, but just remember that I love you and you can always send money to express your feelings for me any time you please. The more money, the more you love me.
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Misandry in the Media - Saudi Rape Case

"The woman's offence was meeting a former boyfriend, who she had asked to return pictures he had of her because she was about to marry another man. The couple were sitting in a car when a group of seven men kidnapped them and raped them both, lawyers in the case told the Arab News. The woman and the former boyfriend were originally sentenced to 90 lashes each for being together in private. The attackers received sentences ranging from 10 months to five years in prison, and 80 to 1000 lashes each."

I've heard endlessly about the injustice of a woman who was raped being sentenced to any sort of punishment for having broken the law before being raped. Everyone is talking about it.

What I have not heard, not even once, and did not know until today, is that the boyfriend was also raped and received the exact same sentence as the girlfriend.

How many of you knew that BOTH of them were raped and given the same sentence? I'm curious.
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Christmas Party Overdose

Friday night I went to a Christmas party. It was downtown, in the heart of homeless Memphrica. We were dressed to the nines, whatever the hell that means, and walking from the parking garage to the Gibson Guitar Factory, where the party was being held.

Homeless addict approaches me and My Wife as we reach the stairs to enter the Guitar Factory.

"Sir, before you spit on me, could you give me 11 cents?"

"11 cents? I don't have 11 cents. In fact, as you can see I'm in a suit, I have no cash of any kind beyond plastic. Do you take Visa?"

He was not amused and stormed off before the Gibson Guitar Police could reach the bottom of the stairs and Taser him with their guitar-shaped Taser guns.

Well, OK, they weren't REALLY guitar-shaped Taser guns, but how cool would that have been?

Anyway, I truly didn't have 11 cents to give him and unless he could process my credit card, he was out of luck. Anyway, I give enough money to the homeless shelter, just a few blocks north of where we were, to provide him with all the food he could need and a place to sleep. But I have discovered through various and many confrontations with the Memphrican Homeless, that they are less than appreciative of my donations to the shelter and can sometimes get quite violent in response to being informed of my altruistic generosity.

Have you ever read Ann Rand's definition of altruism? All those super-rich 'social justice' fuckers sure do hate her.

I once found myself standing outside the restaurant, Texas de Brazil, shouting to a fine Memphrican Homeless gentleman, who seemed intent upon violently accosting me after being told I gave the money he wanted from me to The Memphrican Union Mission, that I was going to put my foot up his ass and send him over the goalposts in the nearby FedEx forum. I have no idea where that threat came from. I have never before told someone that I was going to put my foot up their ass. It just spontaneously popped out of my mouth. Apparently it was a good threat, though, as he ceased his attack and ran away before I could finish stretching and warming up for my upcoming field goal try.

But that was some time ago and I have not attempted to kick a field goal in quite some time.

The Gibson Guitar Factory has a big display of fine guitars. Oddly, I didn't see a single SG model in the entire place. The only Gibson guitar I ever owned was a black SG-1 model, very similar to the one played by a certain Australian boy in a band called AC/DC, and one of their most popular models of all time. It was a fantastic guitar, totally different than my others, with super clean action.

In the center of the building was a huge room filled with tables and a stage. I ended up sitting with only a few of my coworkers, as the table containing the majority of my closest coworkers filled up just before I got there. Argh!

The band that played was called "The Plaintiffs", and they were good. Unfortunately, they were also either confused about what to play for a company with such a wide range of ages, or else they had an odd fascination with KC and the Sunshine Band. Late '70s disco-era music was the speciality of the night, and I was not amused.

Shake, shake, shake - yeah, shake, shake, shake - shake your bootay - shake your AAAAAAAUUUUGGGHHH!!!!!

5 white boys singing Michael Jackon's "Billy Jean" was similarly not my cup of tea. But again, I will grant that they were good at what they do. They sounded just like the original song. It wasn't their talent that I questioned. It was just the musical selections.

I met the band members as we were leaving. They were outside, taking a break and discussing how annoying it was that no one in our company would take to the dance floor, while looking through the display glass at all of the beautiful guitars hanging up inside there. I told them I wanted to get inside and run away with as many guitars as I could carry. They laughed. And I left.

One of my coworkers reported that he and his wife were chased by a man as they left the Guitar Factory, and his wife was so terrified that she was reduced to tears for the rest of the night. Welcome to Memphis. Gun permits require a 2 day course and about 6 weeks for processing of your application.

Saturday night was another work-related Christmas party. No band, but someone "elfed" the company partners and showed the results on a big display screen to the entire company as the highlight of the night. It was hilarious, especially since one of the elf bodies is clearly a woman, and all of the partners are men.

This party was at a nice country club. In every room, someone was having a Christmas party. Some were noisier than others, but everyone was richer than me.

As we were leaving, a high school Christmas party group was entering. I suddenly found myself surrounded by an army of gorgeous teenaged girls and several very nervous teenaged boys. Looking at the girls they had entered with, I understood why they were so nervous. Victoria's Secret could have come in there and picked up a whole new crew of models. Good God almighty!

Sunday was ANOTHER Christmas party. The entire neighborhood was getting together in one house. We were 2 1/2 hours late. I'm afraid we missed some of our neighbors, whom I really want to meet. But we did manage to meet most of them. I'm pleased to say that there appears to be no losers among our neighbors. Everyone is some sort of upper management super duper of some sort.

This means, of course, that I'm the neighborhood loser, as I am not upper management, but merely a modest and lowly Computer Loser whom they apparently know as "the guy who likes to work on cars."

My parade of old Chevies clearly did not go unnoticed as we were moving in. I expect a number of other things probably also did not go unnoticed, but so far no one has mentioned any of that stuff, such as my habit of cursing loudly and creatively while working on said old Chevies, or my cat that poops in the neighbor's yard (she's a Human Resources executive), or how old and faded my wife's car has suddenly become in the past year, or those God-awful ugly clown shoes that she wore to the party despite my begging her to PLEASE buy some decent-looking shoes. I noticed that our most beautiful neighbor, Ashley, was wearing the EXACT same pair of shoes I begged My Wife to at least try on while we were at the store and she was already trying on shoes - really ugly shoes. But she refused.

My neighbors all have nice houses. I was really impressed with the inside of the house where the party was being held. It was so neat and clean and organized that it made our house look like a garage. But then, we have just moved in and are still unpacking, so I can't complain. We have one neighbor with high energy and 7 kids. Everyone comments on how many kids they have, but they seem very happy, so I figure who better to have so many kids than such happy energetic people?

Anyway, we got no rest and nothing done this weekend. I didn't even go running like I'd planned. But we did attend a lot of parties. And now we're both dead tired on Monday.

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Kangaroo Farts Save The World!

SYDNEY (AFP) - Australian scientists are trying to give kangaroo-style stomachs to cattle and sheep in a bid to cut the emission of greenhouse gases, via Farm Farting, blamed for global warming, researchers say.

Thanks to special bacteria in their stomachs, kangaroo farts contains no methane and scientists want to transfer that bacteria to cattle and sheep who emit large quantities of the harmful gas whenever they toot.

While the usual image of greenhouse gas pollution is a billowing smokestack pushing out carbon dioxide, it would be more accurate to show cow butts blasting a lively tune. Livestock passing wind contribute a surprisingly high percentage of total emissions in some countries.

"Fourteen percent of emissions from all sources in Australia is from enteric methane from cattle and sheep farts," said Athol Klieve, a senior research scientist with the Queensland state government.

"And if you look at another country such as New Zealand, which has got a much higher agricultural base, they're actually up around 50 percent," he told AFP.

Researchers say the bacteria also makes the digestive process much more efficient and could potentially save millions of dollars in feed costs for farmers.

"Not only would they not produce the methane with their farts, they would actually get something like 10 to 15 percent more energy out of the feed they are eating," said Klieve.

Even farmers who laugh at the idea of environmentally friendly kangaroo farts say that's nothing to joke about, particularly given the devastating drought Australia is suffering.

"In a tight year like a drought situation, 15 percent would be a considerable sum," said farmer Michael Mitton.

But it will take researchers at least three years to isolate the bacteria, before they can even start to develop a way of transferring it to cattle and sheep.

Tastes Like Chicken

Another group of scientists, meanwhile, has suggested Australians should farm fewer cattle and sheep and just eat more kangaroos.

The idea is controversial, but about 20 percent of health conscious Australians, known as 'bogans', are believed to eat the national symbol already.

"It's low in fat, it's got high protein levels it's very clean in the sense that basically it's the ultimate free range animal," said Peter Ampt of the University of New South Wales's institute of environmental studies.

"It doesn't get drenched, it doesn't get vaccinated, it utilizes food right across the landscape, it moves around to where the food is good, so yes, it's a good food."

It might take a while for kangaroos to become popular barbecue fare, but with concern over global warming growing in the world's driest inhabited continent, Australians could soon be ready to try almost anything to cut emissions.

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Medical Treatment or Home Remedy?

Black eye treatment

For years the conventional wisdom has been that the best treatment for a black eye is to put a piece of raw meat on it. Scientific studies have proven that while the raw meat helps reduce swelling and aids in the healing process, using a cold steak actually delays recovery of broken blood vessel that caused the black and blue marks around the eyes.

These same studies have shown that application of warm soft, and tender meat is the most effective in healing the eyes to recover from the damage. So the next time you get a black eye, here's how to treat it.

two black eyes

* emailed to me by TiggerLane
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Reality Check

Steph kissy lips
Oooh, scandal!

I just received an email that made me realize that sometimes I don't blog quite everything and frequently am a sarcastic smart-ass and consequently end up giving the appearance that things are different than they truly are, especially to those of you who don't know when I'm being a smart-ass or a dork. Usually that doesn't matter, as my personal life is much too boring to be worth giving all the details of anyway. But in this case, perhaps I should play it straight, just this one time.

I have wanted to go to Australia for a very long time. The more people I talk to who are either from there, or live there now, the more convinced I am that it is a great place, with a great future. I may very well want to move there. That is not a joke.

Steph hush
Marry you? For real? Whaaaat?

Steph is not actually planning to marry me. And I don't think she is actually intending to let me sleep on her couch, should I arrive there in Sydney and suddenly appear on her doorstep. In fact, I think she might freak out and call the cops if I showed up unannounced like that. She's a good person and loves a good joke, but the whole point of our talking about e-marriage and her e-divorcing me is that there is no such thing and thus it is purely a joke.

Steph curl tongue
Women want her, too

Clearly I have a bit of a crush on Steph. Notice I've never said that I "e-love" her. But so do most of you, and most of you are women, so how embarassing is that, you lesbos?

Kidding! I'm kidding! See how that works? It's a joke. I don't even actually care that some of you really are lesbians and others are bi or poly or rainbow pony princesses or whatever you want to call it. It's your life and this is just The Blog, a place devoid of reality, but loaded with curse words, embarassing photos, and sex stories, some of which may actually be true.

Steph no look bird
"Playboy called. I said I'd think about it."

Anyway, I love Steph. Clearly she is a person with a good heart, an awesome sense of humor, and the looks of a Playboy star. In fact, I love a lot of you blogger people. But I am fully aware that I am married. In the real world in which I spend most of my time, I have to deal with the daily issues associated with that real-world marriage before I go running off to Wisconsin to try to seduce TKW, or Texas for a whole host of women, or Australia or Canada for, again, a whole bunch of really beautiful women, or anywhere else, for that matter.

TKW hotdog
TKW - a really beautiful woman

Perhaps I shouldn't joke so much about being e-married to Steph? I was once e-married to Binsk, who has since dropped from sight without so much as an e-divorce or anything. Perhaps one day Steph will file an e-restraining order against me and I will be her e-stalker ex-e-husband. But all that will mean is that she emails or comments to say "ha, I've got an e-restraining order" and I reply "I won't obey. I'm knocking at your door right now!" It's like when you type ROTFL. You aren't REALLY rolling on the floor laughing. If you were, you wouldn't still be typing. It's just something you say in the internet world.

Binsk - Canada's most prized possession

I remember when I wrote about how much I loved the Dallas-Ft Worth area while I was there, and how impressed I was with meeting Kami. Some of you thought that I was getting it on with Kami and wanting to move there just for her. Rumors flew and some women called me 'asshole' because they thought I was cheating on My Wife with Kami. Well, I wasn't. My family used to go there every summer when I was a kid, and it felt like home to me when I went back there earlier this year. I haven't felt at home anywhere in a very long time. I've been in Memphis now for 12 years and it still isn't home to me.

Kami and clown
Kami - smiling despite the Texas Longhorns' performance this season

If I say I'm moving to Australia and I'm not taking My Wife, it would probably mean that we're getting a divorce. And that's personal. It has nothing to do with The Blog or anyone on The Blog. I'm unlikely to ever write much about anything as private as that.

On the other hand, if I say over and over again how much I want to see Australia, and I mention trying to get my passport, it just may be that I'm planning to go see Australia, possibly with My Wife, but not necessarily. And while I'd like to just pick up and move there, I can't quite do that just yet. If I get to go there any time soon, chances are I'll be right back again after 2 weeks because I own a house here and have a job here and moving to another country is generally not quite that easy. Sometimes you need to visit first. But this is The Blog. We don't always say what we truly mean. And we don't often tell everything. If we did, every post would be a mile long and who the hell wants to read that?

Steph bird
Not really marrying me
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Top 10 - No Black NASCAR Drivers

I'm a figment of your imagination

David Letterman's Top 10 reasons why there are no black NASCAR drivers:

# 10 - Have to sit upright while driving.
# 9 - Pistol won't stay under front seat.
# 8 - Engine noise drowns out the rap music!
# 7 - Pit crew can't work on car while holding up pants at the same time.
# 6 - They keep trying to carjack Dale Earnhardt Jr.
# 5 - Police cars on track interfere with race.
# 4 - No passenger seat for the Ho.
# 3 - No Cadillac's approved for competition.
# 2 - When they crash their cars, they bail out & run.


#1 -They can't wear their helmets sideways.

hip hop
Sup wit dat?
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More Random Thoughts

I was "Christmas raped" earlier this month. It was the 2nd week of November and I was in Home Depot. Christmas displays were everywhere. I was looking them over when suddenly I noticed it. Over the sound system, Christmas music. I wanted to scream, "it's November, DAMMIT! It's too soon!" But I didn't. I am the master of restraint, as you all know.

I'm sure everyone has noticed how the antiChrist PC Police won't allow anyone to say "Christmas" anymore, right? Sure, it's universal throughout the western hemisphere. Christmas is merely a 'holiday' in the midst of other holidays and we are all supposed to pretend that we don't know which holiday it is that everyone is out buying tons of presents and trees and ornaments for. You know, because they decorate evergreen trees for Rammadan and Hanukkah all the fucking time, right?

Have you also noticed that now they won't even allow anyone to say "Christian"? No, now the official term for believers in "he who must not be named" is "evangelical". What does this mean, exactly? I mean, you could be an evangelical about anything. I've met evangelical Cubs fans, evangelical boy scouts, evangelical feminists, evangelical socialists, evangelical atheists, and even evangelical NASCAR rednecks who yell at me for owning a Chevelle instead of a Mustang. WTF?

Have you ever seen a young deer try to run across a wet street, only to change his mind and try to go back the way he came right in the middle of the road? He slips and slides all over the place and busts ass. It's funny as hell.

Why are we bothering with all this political campaigning and shit? Am I the only one who knows that Hillary is going to win? And when she stuffs every ballot box in the nation, which she will, no one in the Republican Party is going to have the balls to demand an investigation. Everyone knows it. Why go to all of this trouble? Either grow a pair, or hand her the keys to the front door. And I have news for you anyway, the Clintons had copies made and kept them when they left the first time. So they already have the keys. They're sneaky like that. Bitches don't play by the rules.

How can a woman go from zero to bitch in such a short time? At 5:30 a.m. I was awakened for sex. Fine by me. By 6:30 a.m. it was back to full bitch mode and I was being blamed for everything. How does this work, exactly?

My Wife insisted that I name the Kitten this past weekend. He hasn't had much time to prove his personality to us yet and the only distinctive thing about him, other than being wild and playful, is that he stinks. So, at her insistence, I named him "Stinky." She was unhappy with this. So I suggested "Stinkbutt." Again, she was dissatisfied. Yet it was she who renamed my previous cat to "Booger Bear." She said the name fit him, because sometimes he acted like such a booger, and he looked like a bear. Fine, and the name "Stinky" definitely fits this kitten. So what's the problem? At least I didn't name him "Shitty."

Heeeeere Shitty Shitty Shitty!

They tell me I need a copy of my birth certificate with an original seal stamped on it in order to get my passport. I apparently don't have that. I don't know how to get that. This is going to be a pain in the ass, isn't it?

While looking for my birth certificate, I discovered that I have somehow lost the title to the Bananawagon during the move. I can't very well sell the car to the guy who wants it without that title. Dammit! Where is that damn thing?

OK, I gotta go pee.
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Holy Snapping Duck Shit, for real!

SYDNEY (AFP) - Animal lovers in Australia have cried foul over a Sydney golf club's plan to cull native wood ducks living on its course, it was reported Tuesday.

The plan by Sydney's Warringah Golf Club to kill the ducks because they are ripping up its greens led to vandalism and threats against the course, local media reported.

The club opted to hire a marksman to shoot its duck population after other deterrents, such as cat-like objects and rubber snakes, failed to work.

But protesters dug up some of the greens in the dead of night over the weekend and left a threatening note after learning of the plan, The Sydney Morning Herald newspaper said.

"Warning: you bastards kill one bird and we will destroy all your greens at our leisure. We will be watching and waiting," the note said.

Club manager Brian Leggett said it had decided to cancel the cull due to the vandalism.

"I can understand people being concerned and upset but you don't then take things into your own hands. This moves it to the crackpot element," he told the Australian Broadcasting Corporation.

The National Parks and Wildlife Service said it had issued the duck shooting licence because it believed the club had tried everything else it could to prevent the water fowl damaging the course.

"We hate this kind of stuff but they are suffering thousands of dollars worth of damage every year. Normally, if they get rid of a few, the other ducks get the message," spokesman John Dengate told ABC radio.

"We are convinced the golf club has tried everything they can to get the ducks to go somewhere else," he said.
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Thursday Things To Think About - Floating Titties

It's Thursday. Aren't you glad you came by my blog today? How else would you know what day it is? Yeah, this is a service I provide, out of the goodness of my heart. Another service I provide relates to a T-shirt slogan a certain Ex-Hooters girl is famous for, but that's another topic for another day.

Every day, as I'm checking my email, at least once per day, the following photo advertisement pops up on my screen, totally erasing my brain and causing me to lose my train of thought. What? Where am I? What was I doing? Who am I?

I tend to be a bit hard on marketing campaigns, especially when they're really, truly lame-assed shit. But this one, I must admit, is pure genius. It doesn't matter how many times a day I see it, I can't not look at it. It's been running for months and yet I still stare at it every time it pops up. I mean, who can look away from a sight like this? For God's sake, it's floating titties! Genius, I tell you, pure marketing genius! I love this ad, whatever the hell it's for.

And now, Things To Think About, from people who are supposedly wiser than me, as is evidenced by the fact that they are quoted all over the internet and I am not.

Success isn't permanent, and failure isn't fatal.
Mike Ditka - former head coach of "da Bears"

I sometimes think that the saving grace of America lies in the fact that the overwhelming majority of Americans are possessed of two great qualities - a sense of humor and a sense of proportion.
Franklin Roosevelt - 1st U.S. President known to have married a lesbian

Excuse me for a moment, I can't quit laughing at this last quote. Clearly this was written a long-assed time ago. I mean, today that quote applies more accurately to Australia than any Western nation I know of. It sure as hell doesn't fit America anymore. Sorry, let me catch my breath here. Oh, so fucking funny ...

You always pass failure on the way to success
Mickey Rooney - famous actor who screwed Ava Gardner and considered that to be his greatest achievement, as did most of the other men who screwed her

Face your deficiences and acknowledge them. But do not let them master you.
Helen Keller - woman on the Alabama quarter

We tend to elect our deficiences to high office. I don't know why. It's just a bad habit, one which we're probably going to repeat at this same time next year.

You have to expect things of yourself before you can do them
Michael Jordan - famous underwear model who used to play basketball

If I expect Carmen Electra, can I do her?

Deep doubts, deep wisdom; small doubts, little wisdom
Ancient Chinese proverb

This explains why the Chinese are so nervous all the time, I guess. And the missiles they've built from the technology Clinton illegally sold to them in the 1990s explains why we're so nervous over here, too.

You don't have to be the biggest to beat the biggest.
Ross Perot - short man with giant ears

Despite what he says, it's a lot easier being the biggest than it is beating the biggest.

OK, so that's all the deep thoughts I have for today. I mean, I have more, but I left them at home. So sue me. No wait, I didn't mean that literally.

There is interesting crap going on in the news today. I'd comment on it, but I'm ignoring it, so I can't. Deep thoughts and memes that I've been tagged for are as meaningful as I'm getting right now.

I've just returned from the post office, where I picked up the neccessary forms to get my passport. I can sense all the Aussie women immediately getting nervous as they're reading this. They all thought I was only kidding about coming over there. Steph, especially, must be sweating bullets, as she once offered to let me sleep on her couch, only to have me casually comment that once I land on that continent, I never plan to leave. "Oh nooos" she probably thought to herself, "a smelly American squatter!"

They're forcing us to convert to Microsoft Office 2007 today. I don't want to. I don't want to upgrade to Microsoft Vista and I don't want to convert to Office 2007. Why can't they just leave us all alone for awhile? I mean, force everyone else to convert, fine, because I still have stock in Microsoft which I really need to sell. But leave me alone with my comfort zone and familiar applications.

Why can't we just stop and breath for awhile? Why do we have to upgrade every damned thing we own every damned year? What if I don't want a new HD TV? What if I like my car radio pulling old-fashioned FM stations from the old-fashioned airwaves? What if I don't want crumple zones and fucking air bags? What if I think it's totally fucking gay that giant SUVs drop half their front end in the street every time they bump into a shopping cart or deer in the road?

Have you seen all those plastic 'bumpers' lying alongside the roads the past several years? Those are from so-called 'trucks'. They bump something and just fall apart. I don't care why they do it. It's still shitty. I would think the environmental terrorists would be all over that. Talk about shitting up the roadsides! Which is worse, a tiny bag of half-eaten McDonald's, or a giant fucking plastic bumper and grille from some gangsta pimp-daddy's Cadillac Escalade?

I like my big, old, heavy, steel cars and trucks. I like spinning my tires and kicking my posi-traction ass sideways when I feel the urge. I like a rumbling V8 engine that sucks so much air when I hit the gas pedal that the hood flexes downward towards the carburetor.

Yes, I said fucking carburetor, bitches!

I like the fact that I once saw an America where kids rode their fucking bikes without helmets on, and any kid who did wear a helmet was pelted with rocks and called 'fag'. I like the memory of a country where we biked and skated on concrete without wearing a suit of plastic armor for just in case we fell down and hurted our wittle selves.

It's Thursday, by God, and I don't feel like wearing a helmet when I bike! I don't feel that it's any of my government's concern whether I wear a seatbelt or not. I don't think the government knows better how to raise anyone's kids than the parents do themselves and I think the childseat laws are a big, fucking racket.

I enjoyed riding in the back of a pickup truck as a kid! I loved sliding around in the back of Mom's giant, steel stationwagon without a seatbelt, helmet, or stupid plastic prison-seat.

I'm pretty sure that my parents' toys when they were kids had more lead in them than anything coming out of China today, and in fact, I seem to recall that in the past, some toys were made ENTIRELY of lead. And yet still somehow the human race has managed to survive. Amazing!

How did we ever make it this far without a big, neurotic motherly government to legislate away every tiny aspect of our days in those dark years long past? Thank God we've traded our freedom for the promise of security and a giant safety net that requires strict political correctness and total conformity by one and all. I'm so glad.

Now, I need to go home and fill out that passport paperwork as fast as I possibly can.

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Tagged for a Meme - Class List

Tiggerlane has tagged me to write a class list for self-improvement. Because she's a hottie, and because my beautiful Australian e-wife has just dumped me for growing a beard and showing it to another woman, I am going to give in like a drunk girl on prom night and do it.

Rules: Devise a list of 5-10 courses you would take to fix your life. It's more fun to be in classes with friends, so include one class from the person who tagged you that you'd also like to take. Tag five.

Drive Women Wild (SXY490) - I recently grew a beard. And then, because I am insecure, and also because I work in a field where I see how bad the fashion sense of most of us genius types is, I emailed a photo of my bearded face to my e-wife in Australia to ask her if she approves. Unfortunately, Australia is on a vastly different time-zone from America and she was apparently asleep. So she didn't respond. But just then another lovely Australian woman commented on my blog. It must have been like 3 a.m. over there, but she was up. And I was thinking she was in my friends list on MySpace or Facebook and had already seen my face anyway, so I emailed it to her and asked for her opinion, too. She said she liked it a lot. Ooh, my ego felt good! And also I was relieved. I also emailed a long-time friend in Alabama and asked her the same question. She, too, said she liked it. Ooh, I was on a roll! And then I emailed a transplanted Texas hottie who now lives in an igloo amongst glaciers in the frozen north. She said she did NOT like it and also that I have a lousy haircut and need to get my hair cut like Brad Pitt in "The 300" in order to look more manly and less loserly. I take her advice seriously, as she is generally straight with me and knows what she's talking about, so I started to email the other women whom I had asked the beard opinion of. Just then I heard back from my Australian e-wife. She liked the beard, too, she said. But then she emailed me again and called me a "man whore" for emailing my photo to the other women and said she is e-divorcing me. So now I am a broken-hearted, bearded computer geek with a bad haircut, and all those good feelings from the positive feedback I initially received are completely gone. I need a makeover, apparently. And I need professional hottie women to make sure I don't fuck it up. I need a class taught by a team of Victoria's Secret Supermodels to teach us tech guys how not to look like the losers we truly are. This would improve my life dramatically. Or maybe just my ego. But it would be a good start, anyway.

Traffic Building 505 - this graduate level class is stolen from Tiggerlane, who stole it from Bond. "How DO some bloggers get a ton of hits, after posting about NOTHING? Is the blogosphere akin to Seinfeld episodes?" Tigger and I would like to take a class to teach us how to get 100 hits a day, like a certain Australian woman who broke my heart does without half trying. I suspect that it might help if I were female, had big boobs, and some sort of social life, preferably involving alcohol, bikinis, and drunken hijinks. A few wild sexcapes wouldn't hurt any, either.

Stop Being Such a Loser 410 - taught by profs James and Jongeward - Winners do not dedicate their lives to a concept of what they imagine they should be. Rather, they are themselves and as such do not use their energy putting on a performance, maintaining pretence, and manipulating others. Winners can reveal themselves instead of projecting images that please, provoke, or entice others. They are aware that there is a difference between being loving and acting loving, between being stupid and acting stupid, between being knowledgeable and acting knowledgeable. Winners do not need to hide behind a mask. They throw off unrealistic self-images of inferiority or superiority. Autonomy does not frighten winners. Although people are born to win, they are also born helpless and totally dependent on their environment. Winners successfully make the transition from total helplessness to independence, and then to interdependence. Losers do not. Somewhere along the line losers begin to avoid becoming responsible for their own lives. A lack of response to dependency needs, poor nutrition, brutality, unhappy relationships, disease, continuing disappointments, inadequate physical care, and traumatic events are among the many experiences that contribute to making people losers. Such experiences interrupt, deter, or prevent the normal progress toward autonomy and self-actualization.

Personal Law 101 - How To Avoid Being Tasered in the Nuts - Everyone makes mistakes, and sometimes those mistakes involve breaking the law. Every day in America, some unfortunate man is pulled over for not wearing a seatbelt or not having his child in a government mandated plastic cage or other minor infraction. Somewhere along the way from being pulled over to receiving a ticket, this man will get shot in the genitals with a hand-held torture device designed by Taser International to spear the male genitalia and fry a man's testicles with 50,000 volts. This class will teach you the dos and don'ts of dealing with a Taser-equipped police officer and help you to avoid being the latest statistic in the War On Males. If you have a penis or testicles, or love someone who does, you NEED this class.

Start You Own Business 240 - Anyone who plans to start their own business needs to know a number of important things. Does the business have to be built from scratch or can someone else's existing business be bought, and where would a person find this information? How much will building the new business cost? Where to get the financing? Is the intended market suitable for the intended business? How probable is business success and how long should the new business owner expect to go before breaking even or achieving profitability? All this and more is essential to know in order to avoid being the next failed business bankruptcy in the competitive world of business ownership.

OK, so now I get to tag five suck .. I mean, tag five lucky bloggers. I tag:

Bottle Blonde
Prunella Jones
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Girl Reaction - part II

I went to the gym during lunch today. I haven't been in awhile because of all the strain of moving from one house to another. And because I'm damned lazy.

I did a fast workout with high reps and low weight. I didn't have much time and I needed to go fast. I pumped and pumped as I glanced at the posters on the walls featuring Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime. Yeah, I look nothing like that.


When I was done, I went into the locker room and took a shower. When I got out of the shower and began to get dressed I had the unfortunate experience of seeing my full nude profile in the mirror.


I stood there looking in horror. This is the guy that flirts with gorgeous women on the internet? This guy? THIS guy?! Oh Lord, what if they ever emailed and said "hey, I'm coming to Memphis to see you, you big stud, you!"

I would shit. I mean, oh my God, I look like ASS.

I thought maybe it was just an off day, you know, where my imagination was getting the worst of me. So I stepped on the scale.


Oh, damn, this isn't making me feel any better. Maybe the scale is off? Maybe it's just gas and after a good fart I'll be back to normal? You know, I haven't farted all day. Maybe that's all it is?

Damn Thanksgiving holiday!

I hopped in my new Memphismobile and drove to the sandwich place that I always go to to grab some lunch.

As I stood in line waiting for my sandwich, a beautiful blonde girl came in and stood in line next to me. It was the very same blonde girl I had noticed checking me out one month ago in this very same restaurant.

I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. Was she checking me out? What was her reaction?

girl rejection

Her arms were crossed across her chest and she was looking away from me, avoiding any eye contact.

As I looked in her direction, trying not to be obvious, she crossed her legs, too.

She was standing up, and still managed to cross both her arms and legs in response to me.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh damn fucking hell!

I'm not having a good day.

rejecting him

* On a side note, did you know that whenever you comment out anything in your HTML code on Blogger now, it fucking deletes it? I was editing this post and commented out half of it to come back and work on later. I didn't delete it. But Blogger, having been written by fucking retarded monkeys, automatically deleted every single line of it, much as it inserts fucking carriage returns two and three times into posts that I didn't want fucking carriage returns inserted into. Someone needs to find the retarded monkeys who run Blogger and shoot them.

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Chelsea Clinton visits The South


Chelsea Clinton was visiting the South and remarked to a gentleman,

"I find it so strange that Democrats do so poorly in the South. Do you know why that is?"

The old boy replied, "Well, miss, it comes down to three things: Osama, Obama and yo' mama."



Queen Narcissist

* Sent to me in an email by Holly
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Mom's Favorite

How to tell you're Mom's favorite

* photo sent to me by TiggerLane

So, tomorrow I will be in The Rocket City, also known as Rocketown, for a family get-together and to celebrate Thanksgiving. This tradition normally involves football on TV featuring the Dallas Cowboys playing the Washington Redskins, but apparently they played last weekend and I missed it. It was a close game, judging from the score.

I'm not looking forward to making that long drive, especially since it's expected to rain all day and night today and I will be alone. Then again, when I have a long drive to make and I am all alone, I usually end up singing (screaming) along with the radio just for the fun of it. I'm glad that I can't hear myself because I know it's awful and I don't really try not to be. Sometimes, such as when I don't like the song I'm singing along with, doing it badly is actually more fun than doing it well. As if I could do it well anyway. I'm almost as bad a singer as I am a dancer.

Yes, I am aware that women consider a man's inability to dance well to be an indication of his inabilities in the bedroom, too, but honestly, how many of you are planning to come and sleep with me any time soon? Maybe I'll take dance lessons. Better still, I can always just get really, really drunk. I'm a GREAT dancer when I'm blitzed. And a great singer, too. By God, I'm great at just about everything when I'm drunk off my ass. I'm absolutely sure of this, despite what the police say. I was never a big Stewart Copeland fan anyway, and what does he know about it?

Sorry, '80s joke. If OneHungMan were here, he'd get it.

I'm curious, because it feels awfully tomblike around here lately, but how many of you are reading me through Google Reader or subscribing through the other thing I put up on my page and thus not leaving comments? Yes, I realize you can't answer me if you are doing this, unless you actually come over and tell me, which you aren't going to do because it's so much trouble. It's just that I'm thinking I'm not a big fan of this. Maybe it's just Thanksgiving, or maybe I'm just sucking, or maybe because I haven't had much time to keep up with everyone's blogs lately due to a project I'm way behind on, but it feels like I'm fading away here. What I really need is a sex change, big boobs, blonde hair, and a great sex life. This tends to bring in the commenters like nothing else.

I say this, but then there are plenty of blogs by brunettes who are married and have children (TKW) who, while quite hot and sexy, aren't writing very often about their sex lives. And they get plenty of comments. And guys who don't ever write about their sex lives, like Lightning Bug's Butt, and yet are so funny or interesting that they have an army of women commenting every day.

I think my funk and my stress from this project are affecting my blog in ways I don't realize, but everyone else does. Add to this the fact that I've moved and now rarely have to deal with the insane traffic in Crazy Cordova and thus have few wild traffic stories to tell, and no sex stories at all, and the fact that I've been a lazy fucker and skipped the gym, and when I go the gym is mostly deserted anyway, and really, what do I have to blog about?

I suppose I should be impressed with myself that I manage to squeeze so much material out of my daily poops and farting and poor fashion sense, but I'm not. Everyone else seems to have such fun and interesting lives (ADW) and I envy you all so much. I'd stop writing entirely and just read about your lives, but I know I can't shut the fuck up for more than a few days. After that, it's as if there's a volcano in my head and if I don't pound it out on the keyboard I will go berzerk and become one of those creepy people at the grocery store who just start talking to you out of shear desperation for human interaction and you can't get away from them except by throwing boxes of Cheerios at them before fleeing in panic to your car out in the parking lot. Or, sometimes, fleeing next door to the video game store where they have the newest XBox360 games.

Not that I ever do this, mind you. It's just something I COULD do if I wanted to.

Why are all comic book/video game/Dungeons and Dragons store owners just basically the same guy? He's a loser with a big peanut M&Ms gut, balding head with unwashed hair, scraggly beard, dirty old T-shirt with a slogan on it that might have been funny 20 years ago but is now just a lame testament to how old he is, and body odor that is guaranteed to repel any women within 50 yards. And he only knows how to relate to people through extreme saracasm, like no matter what anyone says to him he responds with some smart-assed insult, "I know you are but what am I."

This is a guy who likes to try to impress 14-year-olds with his astonishing intellect by throwing around big, pretentious words that he heard on a rerun of Xena: Princess Warrior. It's always 14-year-olds that he's trying to impress, because no one else wants anything to do with him.

He's insulting and nasty and not making much money despite the popularity of the products he sells, yet instead of trying to increase sales by improving his customer relation skills, he chooses to simply become even more insulting.

He drives a beat up old Chevy from 1985 with most of the paint peeling off of it. The car was recalled due to the paint flaw, and whomever the original owner was had every opportunity to have it repainted at GM's expense, but they asked their worthless son to do it and he never did. And now that he has inherited the car, he's really sorry he did that.

And the reason he owns the video game store? It isn't that he has any education in business and wanted to build an empire. Oh no, no MBA for this genius. No, it's simply that he's too smelly and nasty to work for anyone else, and so he has been forced to start his own business in order to make a living. And even with that, his character flaws turn a potentially profitable enterprise into a tiny struggling store located in a strip mall next to the Indian deli, where the stench of Middle Eastern mystery meat wafts over each and every day. And he only was able to afford that spot because no one else would rent it.

So anyway, I don't want to be that guy. I don't even really want to know that guy or hang out in his store, even when avoiding the desperately lonely person in the grocery store who wants to talk to me about her grandkids or her aching hip which has to be replaced or any of that crap. And I don't want to be that desperately lonely person in the grocery, either. That person needs to get a blog or something.

But then, who would read it?

Getting back to the point of this whole post, I'm leaving town tonight and won't be around to blog for a day or two. Don't think that I don't love you while I'm gone. You know I still do. I'm here in spirit. But in body I'll be in Alabama eating too much food, talking to my family about ... only God knows what ... and mostly being really bored. Happy Thanksgiving!!!

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