Michelle's Meme

A meme I have shamelessly stolen from the beautiful Michelle.

Who did you last shoot a dirty look at?
The Blog, after it deleted my last comment on Michelle's blog and made me write a new one. Man, that pissed me off.

What kind of car do you drive?
What day of the week is it? I have 5, plus my wife's car, and 2 motorcycles.

Have you ever had a garage sale?
Yes, not only did I sell my garage, but the house that went with it, too.

What color is your iPod?
I bought a green one for My Wife, but I don't have one myself. She never asked for one. I just thought she'd like it. And now I can't get it away from her because she likes it so much.

What kind of dog do you have?
I have a dog that meows, climbs trees, and poops in a litterbox. Some folks call him a cat.

What's for dinner tonight?
What is this, Hee Haw? I remember that show. Hey, remember Barbi Benton? Man, that girl was hot!

What is the last drink you drank?
Ice cold well water. Speaking of wells, our pump seems to have a leak somewhere. The cats appreciate it though. It gives them a constant supply of fresh water. Dammit.

Last time you were sick?
Earlier today, as I was reading Barak Obama's pastor's response to criticism of his racism. What an unrepentent dirtbag.

How long is your hair?
Just long enough for My Wife to tell me she wishes I'd get a haircut.

Are you happy right now?
No, I'm the prince who saves Snow White from Happy and the other dwarves.

What did you say last?
I wish you hadn't ask me this. The last words I have spoken tonight were when I shouted "goddammit" when The Blog deleted my comments on Michelle's page. Yes, I know, but it just slipped out.

Do you drink beer?
I'm Baptist. I drink YOUR beer when no other Baptists are around to see me.

Have your brothers or sisters ever told you that you were adopted?
In my family being adopted would have been preferable. No, they used to tell me that if they pushed my bellybutton my legs would fall off. My oldest sister to this day says I was a smart kid because I never fell for it. I figure I saw them do it to my older brother and noticed that his legs never came off. I mean really, how dumb did they think I was?

What is your favorite key chain on your keys?
I've got a Chevelle SS454 keychain I'm fond of. I've got another made of solid brass that just says 'Chevrolet' on it. And of course, most of the time when you see me in traffic I'm driving either a Nissan or a Ford. I keep my classic Chevies in the garage.

What is in your pocket?
Twig and berries are all I have on me at the moment - no pockets, I'm dressed for bed. No underwear, either.

Who is the last person you had a phone conversation with?
CIO of a company that has apparently been pursuing me for over a year. I had no idea they ever had an interest, so they must not pursue very hard or something.

What DVD is in your DVD player?
101 Dalmations, Debbie Does Dallas, B Movie .... I think that's all. It's a carousel so it holds 6, but I think there's only 3 in it right now.

What's something fun you did today?
Ate really unhealthy. Hey, it was My Wife's idea. She was in the mood for chocolate fried pie with ice cream and I didn't feel like fighting her on it.

What do you think of when you hear the word "meow"?
Someone is apparently out of catfood, in search of a lap, wants to go outside, or is simply lonely somewhere in the house and just decided to sit down and start crying about it.

What are you listening to right now?
My ass whistling a merry tune.

What have you had to drink so far today?
Water and milk. Nothing more exciting than that. Sorry to blow my wild party animal image and all. I do have plenty of Schiner Bock and wine coolers in the fridge. You want something?

When is your birthday?
On the same day that I was born, every year.

What's the area code for your cell phone?

Where did you buy the shirt you're wearing now?
It was a gift from my sister-in-law from the nearest Harley store. We think from the size of it that she originally bought it for her husband, a rather large and obese man, but gave it to me for Christmas by accident. I wear it as a sleep shirt because it's nice, but much too big for anything else.

Is there anything hanging from your rear view mirror?
Wild monkeys, usually. Those bastards are always breaking into my truck and stealing my CDs.

What are you going to do after this?
Go to bed and dream about how much better my life would be if I were someone else, preferably someone who gets to have sex with Jessica Biel and Jessica Alba at the same time.

What is something you need to go shopping for?
Condoms, milk, and a new starter for the Chevelle.

Do you like pickles?
I like Kelly Pickler. I'd eat her with fries and a Coke.

How about olives?
I'm not into cartoon women. I mean, I'll admit that Jessica Rabbit was hot, but I'd be afraid I'd accidently erase her or something. Olive would just split right up the middle like firewood hit with a wedge.

What is your favorite kind of gum?
Ruger 9 mm mostly. Oh wait, you said gum. Sorry. I like Bubbalicious.

Do you have any tan lines?
Not so much tan as burn lines at the moment. I'm fried and covered in Aloe Vera lotion

Do you remember the name of your kindergarten teacher?
Mrs. Adair. She was a blonde hottie. I was only 4, but I knew what I liked even back then. She was hot.

When you're at the grocery store do you use the self checkout?
No, I take all my groceries to the pharmacist. She's a righteous hottie and she always grins at me whenever I buy condoms.

Has anyone ever sang to you?
My cats do it all the time.

Has anyone ever given you roses?
Guns'n'Roses once, on CD, but never just roses.

If you were abandoned in the wilderness, would you survive?
I don't know if I would or not, but I'd sure as hell kill the person trying to abandon me there before they could get away. Then I'd search their dead body for a cell phone.

What is your favorite color?
I mostly prefer white girls, although I have experienced a few darker colors in the past and had no complaints about them at all. Well OK, I have one complaint related to Korean girls being somewhat crazy, but other than that, no complaints.

What color are your eyes?
Brown and bloodshot

What is a compliment you receive way too often?
Sometimes I get tired of being told that I'm way too good in bed. Yeah, spread that around, would you? I just thought that shit up.

How tall are you?
Last time I was measured I was 6 feet even, but that was way back and I'm pretty tired these days.

Who was the last person to say they loved you and when?
Kelly Preston, famous movie hottie and wife of John Travolta, but that may have been a dream. I fell asleep while watching "Medium" and woke up with a huge erection and a strong desire to watch some dirty '80s movies.

Do you like your parents?
I don't know how to answer this. My dad is dead and my mom is a bit wacky.

Where is the furthest place you've traveled?
One of the Caribbean islands or perhaps Ontario, Canada. I didn't measure which was further.

Which do you prefer, to eat or sleep?
I prefer to sleep. I can ignore hunger and it'll go away eventually, but tired will jump you from behind if you're not careful.

Do you look more like your mom or your dad?
I look eerily similiar to my dad, or so I've been told by every freakin' person in his hometown in Texas.

How long does it take you to shower?
I can shower in 5 minutes, but if I've been dreaming about Kelly Preston or Jessica Biel it may take a lot longer.

Can you do splits?
When I was actively taking tae kwan do I could come close, but now I don't even want to think about it.

Can you use the grill?
I can grill a mean burger. Would you like to try my meat?

Are you flexible?
I was never overly bendy, even when I ran track and stretched out every day. These days I'm stiffer than a wooden dick.

What movie do you want to see?
I had high hopes for "Forgetting Sarah Marshall", but the ads have actually started to convince me that it doesn't look all that funny. Worse, Kristen Bell doesn't get naked at all in the movie. The guy does - Yuck! So, "Iron Man" is moving up on my list of movies I might be curious about.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night?
I woke up so many times. I don't know what the total was by morning, but it wasn't enough.

Do you wear your seatbelt in the car?
I've always worn it, and I've always said that it's not the government's place to tell us we have to. If this is what our cops are doing then clearly we don't have a crime problem and don't need so many cops. And also, we have a government that thinks 18 is old enough to vote and run a nuclear submarine, but not old enough to make basic decisions about our own daily lives. Think about that for a minute.

Are you scared of flying?
No, not flying - falling and hitting the ground, but not flying. I've never thought of it as being any different than riding a big bus. Then again, we have had some major bus crashes here in Memphis so perhaps that isn't the best way to look at it.

What do you sleep in?
My bed. Duh.

Do you have any tattoos?
I have Shannon Elizabeth's phone number tattooed on my penis. I hope to God she never changes her number.

Have you ever been to Los Angeles?
No, actually I haven't. I haven't been to California at all. I've been to Kings and Queens, but I've never been to me. Oh how I hate that song.

What jewelry do you wear all the time?
Just my family jewels.

What is your favorite song at the moment?
I don't have one at the moment, but if Faith Hill or Shania Twain were to come to my bed and sing to me, whatever they sang would be my favorite song.

What song do you HATE?
The theme song to "That '70s Show" is pretty damned obnoxious.

Do you like chocolate?
I told you, I've been with all different color girls and they were all pretty good to me.

Are you easy to get along with?
I'm so easy that narcissists and sociopaths seek me out just to see how much they can get away with before I stick a knife in them.
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Miley Cyrus and those Scandalous Pics

Miley Cyrus' MySpace Scandal

Miley Cyrus is all over every news site I've visited this week. Apparently she took some photos of herself and posted them to her private MySpace account. But MySpace being MySpace, it got hacked immediately and the photos were copied and spread all over the internet.

All the news sites are reporting how 'shocking' these photos are and how disturbing it is because 'young girls look up to Miley' and yet this is how she behaves.

So, I saw the photos and all I have to say is this:

What is the big damn deal?

These are photos of a typical 15-year-old girl acting like a typical 15-year-old girl. How is anything about any of this shocking in the least?

And when did the antiChrist, anti-religion, anti-male, feminist media suddenly get so incredibly prudish and holier-than-thou about something like this? Isn't this the same media that attacked the FCC and George Bush when a television network was fined for Janet Jackson's decision to bare her big plastic breast? They said it was ridiculous and typical of 'evangelicals' and 'puritans'. So who's the ridiculous one now?

Anyone who has a blog can't escape seeing various random photos of females of all ages posing with their arm extended, camera in hand, and their clothes either half or fully off. These photos are all over the place.

Underwear and Hello Kitty!

I grew up a Southern Baptist in Alabama, with everything that goes with that. I've seen the Miley Cyrus photos. I'm supposed to be the big bad Religious Right compared to the feminists who run our media. And yet I can't see what the big fucking deal is with these photos. The girl is wearing clothes. She's not even topless.

Oh, but Vanity Fair's famous lesbian photographer, Annie Leibovitz, took some photos of Miley where she appears to be topless, although you can't see her breasts at all. Oh goodness, the scandal! Not for Annie, because you know you can't criticize a lesbian woman for anything no matter what she does. But for Miley and her parents. What were they thinking?!


Miley's Vanity Fair Scandal

Let's face facts here. Miley isn't showing anything at all. It's not even as exciting as Vanessa Hudgens' fully nude self-portrait.

Disney Darling Vanessa Hudgens' Full Monty

And in Vanessa's case, everyone said "oh, she's 18 so it doesn't matter." Yeah, she's 18 so you can fuck her. But if she were 17 and you got caught with her photo, by God, you'd be a child pornographer and sent off to prison as a registered sex offender, you son-of-a-bitch.

Still, the media is all panty-wadded over Miley and her bra and Miley and her sheet. It doesn't even qualify as porn, none of it. In fact, neither Miley's photos or Vanessa's photos qualify as porn. No one is performing a sex act on anyone else. It's just a girl alone with a camera.

Girls not alone

When I was a kid, I remember how the Europeans used to say that America was all fucked up because we rated nudity as pornographic and harmful to society, especially to children. We have a shit fit over a bare breast, which the rest of the world considers to be nothing of consequence.

A French Breast

They argued that we were crazy because we considered violence and even sexual violence to be highly entertaining and of no consequence whatever. My parents, and especially my feminist mother, used to say that those people who argued for this view were idiots and perverts. I used to agree. But I was young. What did I know?

Now that I'm a grown man and I've seen for myself the consequence of a lifetime of encouraging sexual violence while having constant hissy fits over bare tits, I have completely changed my mind.

Sexual Violence

Depictions of graphic sexual violence (always against males) are everywhere in America. You don't have to go searching the internet to find them. They're in your local paper, included alongside an ad for your nearest tae kwan do class. They're on posters hanging in the gym. They're in magazines in the grocery store. They're shown to children in elementary school who are then encouraged to do this to any man or boy who bothers them. And by God, they are all over the TV and in the movies every single day on every single channel, including the so-called 'family' channels. American society is more vicious and sexually violent today than ever before in history. But of course we are. We teach it and encourage it.

And yet we're all flustered and constipated about Miley Cyrus taking photos of herself in her underwear and posting it in her private account on MySpace. If she posted a photo of herself kicking her father in the testicles that would be fine. Lord knows when Kim Kardashian's little sister kicked her step brother in the testicles just to be a brat on "Keeping Up With The Kardashians", we all saw that in ads for the show over and over and over again.

Sexual violence doesn't hurt anyone, right? I mean, just so long as the victim is male. After all, the American media's favorite saying is "well behaved women rarely make history." The more violent and sexually abusive a woman is to a man, the more she's celebrated for being 'empowered'. But let her show the slightest hint that she might be a normal 15-year-old girl who just wants to be sexy and we have a giant shit fit.

Miley Cyrus' photos of herself are nothing to get excited about. By Disney's twisted double-standards these photos are tame in the extreme. Anyone who has a daughter that looks up to Miley and her Hannah Montana character has nothing at all to worry about. Any child that can be associated with the Walt Disney Corporation and come away from it no more perverted than this has done extraordinarily well.

It's not Miley Cyrus we need to be concerned about. It's the perverts who run our media.

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Things I Have Learned (That Do Me No Good Whatever)

A thousand tears may stain your face, but they do you not one bit of good.

Movie people all dress the same. You can spot them from across the parking lot at film festivals.

Everyone wants to be a star. No one wants to be the doorman.

The most dangerous man is the man who has lost everything.

Many people have great music in their heads. It's the getting it out so others can enjoy it that is the real trick.

I feel certain that if the Founding Fathers of the American Revolution could see their nation today they'd say "we risked our lives for that? No fucking way!"

I have the most generic face in the world. Everyone thinks they know me from places I've never been and things I've never done.

Hot women know they're hot, but when you see them out in public and they have that air of "I'm too hot for you" they become less hot. Or maybe I'm just bored with them?

The difference between an actor and a film maker is that actors stand around a lot trying to look cool. Film makers move around, with lots of activity, and don't really care if you notice them or not. They're doers, not posers.

The power flashing on and off, on and off, on and off, is far more annoying than when it just goes off and stays off until it's ready to come on again once and for all.

Nobody breaks up anymore. They just drop you from their friends on Facebook. How do parents these days handle a crying teenage daughter who says "Daddy, he dropped me on Faaaaacebook"??

Are microwave ovens technically really ovens? I mean, could you cook a roast in there?

I did a pathetic little workout the other day. Now my arms hurt like they're broken or something. How did I get to be such a girlieman?

Kroger grocery store has printed on my last receipt that I have 186 points for the month of March, but nothing as to what the hell that means or how I might find out. WTF?

The phone will always ring when you're home alone, pants around your ankles, on the toilet. Always.

People are calling my house, wanting to talk to Bertha. I tell them they have the wrong number. Then they yell at me, insisting that they most certainly do not have the wrong number and they know this for a fact because Bertha gave it to them herself. If I ever find out what Bertha's number is I'm going to call her at 2 am for a chat.

I'm thinking about grad school again. If I do go back, I'm going to make it a point to stop by the computer science department and shout into the classrooms, "hey you idiots, you're busting your asses for nothing! Go change your majors to finance so you can make big money with very little effort."

The end is near. It's not you, it's me.

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Penis Theft Crime Wave!

marathon streaker

According to the internet news, which of course must be true because internet news is not allowed to lie, there is a mass crime wave of penis thefts in The Congo. Apparently 13 or so people have been hanged for using black magic to steal men's penises.

Here in America this 'black magic' is called African-American magic to be more politically correct.

Anyway, I saw this news story and it occurred to me that these men whose penises were stolen must be single. I know this because were they married, like me, they wouldn't have even noticed the theft for weeks, possibly even months.

It's true. Married men, on average, get so little use out of their penises that they could be stolen by witch doctors in The Congo and the men wouldn't even care. I know I'd never notice. I'd just be standing there in front of the toilet, half asleep and peeing all over myself and the floor, without a care in the world.

"Huh, I could'a sworn I had a penis there just the other day," I'd think to myself, before stumbling back to bed. "Ah well, probably misplaced it or something. It'll turn up."

The next day, My Lovely Wife would inform me that I had peed on the floor and didn't clean it up. But this wouldn't be anything new. I mean, hell, don't all men pee on the floor in front of the toilet without even realizing we're doing it? Sure we do. It's one of God's many practical jokes he plays on us as we get older. It's a holy riot. If you listen closely while standing there peeing and dribbling all over the floor, you can almost hear the legions of angels laughing.

Another thing that occurred to me while reading this news story of penis thefts over in The Congo is how different everything would be if it were happening here in the United States.

First of all, no one would be punished for it. The National Organization for Women would be on CNN talking about how the thefts are empowering to women and should be funded by the federal government with a new branch of the Department of Justice created just for the purpose of stealing more penises. Senator Joseph Biden would sponsor a bill creating this new branch, making a big speech praising penis thefts and claiming that he wished someone would steal his penis so he wouldn't ever be tempted to pee standing up again - because as everyone knows, men peeing standing up is somehow degrading to women and shit. Hillary Clinton would dodge this news story like the plague because it would threaten to derail her campaign against Obama. NBC would air a prime time home video show featuring one full hour of video clips of boys being virtually castrated in horrible accidents. And CBS would instruct their script writers to include penis theft bandits in every show, blaming white males for the whole thing while simultaneously portraying women as sympathetic victims.

Finally, whomever was arrested for it would declare themselves to be "the real victim". They would get a dream team of criminal attorneys for free, paid for by billionaire Nazi George Soros. They would be invited to appear on Oprah. Hearst Publishing would immediately sign them to a book deal. The Lifetime Network would do a movie starring Sally Field in which we would be shown how they lived a hard life and were abused, but somehow remained very lovable all the while. And finally, predictably, they would be acquitted.

Too bad those dudes in The Congo aren't civilized and progressive like we are here in the United States. They're hanging these fuckers without so much as a televised trial or anything. The real irony is that the people they're executing over there probably didn't do anything, whereas here in the United States when someone does something like this for real, if it's a woman and we have her caught red handed we don't do jack shit to her. We let her ass go. Ain't it funny how it always works that way? And if it were a man, because usually when a man commits a sexual crime like this against another man or a boy it turns out that he's gay, the media would hush it up, and the courts would give him a light sentence. But then someone would shank the fucker while he was in prison and he'd die face down in a toilet. So it's all good.

Anyway, I don't plan to do any vacationing in the Congo any time soon. And if I do go, I'm probably gonna leave my penis here, just in case.

weiner grille
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Deep Thoughts and Stupid Shit


Tyler Perry/Madea said it best....

"If somebody wanna walk out of your life, let them go. Especially if you know you done did everything you could do. You done sat around been the best man or best woman you could be and they still wanna go, LET THEM GO. Whatever they running after they'll see what they had in a minute, but by then it's gonna be too late. Cause half these people be sitting around crying about it, worrying about it 2, 3 years from now you ain't gonna remember their name. How many times you done seen folks somewhere you be like, 'What the hell was I THINKING?!?!?! What was wrong with ME!?!?!? I musta been lonely as hell to hook up with you!!!!!' LET FOLKS GO!!! Some people come in your life for a lifetime, some come for a season, you got to know which is which. You gonna always mess up when you mix them seasonal people with lifetime expectations. People have to learn how to be by themselves some. People have to learn how to be alone. I don't understand all these people, 'Oh I need somebody.' 'Lord where is my man/woman?' That is crazy! If you don't know how to be by yourself, what you gonna do with somebody else? Stop praying about it! Shut up and WAIT! Go work on you. That's what that time is for, to get yourself together. I'd rather be in a corner with a puppy and a goldfish, and be happy. Than to be sit around my house with somebody wondering that the hell they there for. You would be surprised what people will put up with to have somebody there just to tell them that they love them. I don't understand it. I can't live in dysfunction. I done come through too much, gone through too much hell and high water to come there and let you come up in my adult life when I'm suppose to be at peace and give me all kinda hell. Only two places on this earth you gonna have peace, the grave and your house."


How pathetic have I become? Today I was excited to see the UPS man arrive because I knew he had my replacement wheel for my Snapper riding mower. My grass is in serious need of a cutting and I can't find a replacement wheel and tire anywhere in Memphis. I had to resort to fighting a desperate Ebay battle for these damn wheels and tires. And you know what? Some motherfucker actually outbid me the first time. Who the hell else in this world needs a new Snapper front wheel besides me? Anyway, I didn't have time for that shit, so the next time I just used the "Buy it now" option that one guy offered and grabbed my damn wheel. Even then it took 5 days to get here. The UPS guy asked me what the wheels were for. I told him it was for my Snapper riding mower. He said "my dad left me one of those when he died. I used it about 3 times and then chunked it." Yeah, even the UPS guy has more class than to ride a Snapper. But not me.

When did I become the guy whose most exciting event in life is the arrival of new wheels for his lawn mower? How did this happen? Should I start wearing khaki pants and a light blue shirt with a sweatervest or some shit like that? Maybe I should get me a pair of glasses to complete my fall into this abyss. I should trade in my musclecar and buy me a Volvo.


All the mainstream news outlets in the United States are in a hissy, battling amongst themselves over the ongoing Democommunist Party clash between female-supremacist radical, Hillary Clinton, and black-supremacist radical-come-lately, Barack Obama. Meanwhile, in the Reallyoutoftouchwithvoters Party, namby-pamby fence-rider, John McCain, has locked up the nomination and is enjoying a soon-to-violently-end period of peace and quiet while the press and Commucrats completely ignore him, much like the rest of America. The upcoming November Presidential election promises to be one of the least satisfying of all time, with roughly 65 percent of Americans saying they're only going to bother voting because the 'other' candidate is absolutely horrible, and they wish their party had offered up a leader instead of a cartoon.

Republican voters say they see little if any difference between Democrats Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. 35 percent of Republicans said they think Hillary probably has a bigger dick than Obama, but she's also slightly crazier than he is, more of a 'hater', and will sell our entire military with all its' secrets to China or Russia the first chance she gets.

Democratic voters said they don't know how John McCain even got into the Republican Party in the first place because he seems so much like one of them. A majority of Republicans agreed with them, in what may be the largest mutual agreement between Democrats and Republicans since the United States declared war on Germany and Japan in 1941.

Danica Patrick

The news media has been harassing racecar driver Danica Patrick for crying after winning a major race. I went to research this story so I could comment on why men like her and the media does not, but I stumbled across bikini photos of her from Sports Illustrated and got distracted.


When blogger Heather Armstrong, aka Dooce, got fired over her blog, the term "Dooced" came to mean losing your job for blogging. But according to the Wall Street Journal, Mrs Armstrong is estimated to be making roughly $40,000 per month in ad revenue from her blog. With this in mind, it seems that to be "Dooced" is no longer a bad thing. I could use a little Dooce in my life. I suppose to be "Memphised" must mean to make absolutely nothing for your blog even though it is sucking your life away.

It's Good for You!

Australia researchers claim to have done research on male masturbation (they got paid for this shit!) and concluded that it is actually good for you! Seriously. I'm not making this up. Read it for yourself, Smartypants!

"Frequent masturbation may help men cut their risk of contracting prostate cancer, Australian researchers have found. It is believed that carcinogens may build up in the prostate if men do not ejaculate regularly, BBC News reported on Wednesday. The researchers surveyed more than 1,000 men who had developed prostate cancer, and 1,250 men who had not. They found that men who had ejaculated the most between the ages of 20 and 50 were the least likely to get cancer. Men who ejaculated more than five times each week were a third less likely to develop prostate cancer."
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Loonies On The Path - XLI - Complete Madness

I originally started writing the Loonies on the Path series about traffic simply for the purpose of recording what I observed in the way of a correlation between weather changes and other external stimuli and people acting crazy in traffic. I got away from that gradually, as my daily drive through Cordova, Tennessee involved dealing with mentally deficient assholes and bitches so often that the weather and such clearly had nothing to do with it. But this time is different.

Yesterday, Thursday, I had to drive 200 miles in the evening. I headed out at around 7 pm and got home after 11:30 pm. During my drive I saw the worst insanity I have ever experienced in traffic.

I was in my 4-wheel-drive truck, which is not small, but not a gigantic intimidating monster either. It's just an old SUV. I wasn't in a bad mood and I wasn't in the mood to play with idiots in traffic. Yet over and over I kept having other drivers blow up around me for seemingly no reason at all.

I had people get pissed off if I was behind them, slowing down for no reason and then getting behind me and riding my ass, then hitting their brights when they reached a point at which they needed to turn off the highway. I checked how I was following people. Was I riding their asses? No. Were my headlights on high beam? No, they were on the normal setting, and were not especially bright.

Speaking of headlights on high, I noticed an unusually high number of drivers running around with their high beams on, and when anyone flashed at them they would refuse to turn them off, or else they would turn them off briefly, until they were right up at the oncoming car who had flashed them at which point they would flip them on again, blinding the person intentionally as they passed in the opposite direction, as if that person had somehow insulted them by informing them that their high beams were on.

I had an idiot in a white Ford Escort wagon driving slow in the left-hand lane ahead of me. I was on cruise control and slowly caught up with him. I was in the right-hand lane and of no concern to him whatever. Yet when he saw that I was passing by him, he got angry and sped up, flying up the highway for a ways and then slowing down again. Of course, I caught up with him again. And once again, he got his panties in a wad and punched the gas again, speeding off in a rage. He did this three times before really getting mad and flipping his brights on and off and noticeably screaming at me as he threw a hissy fit inside his car. I don't know what he said, but I decided not to react.

Yes, I know you may find this hard to believe, especially if you've read my blog for any length of time and are familiar with this series of traffic-related posts. But something was seriously off with everyone and I decided that the best thing I could do if I wanted to make it home as fast as possible and with minimal bullet holes in my truck was to do absolutely nothing when these idiots starting flipping out. Because EVERYONE was flipping out.

So I let Billy Bob Escort have his tantrum and speed off again without responding to him. I didn't even cuss him silently to myself. Instead, I started looking up to see if I could find the moon. Was it a full moon? Not that I could see. And the weather, anything odd happening with that? No, it was a normal spring day, not too hot and not too cool. The pollen count was up a bit, so allergies were a possible explanation. Still, this seemed way too extreme and too widespread to be allergies. EVERYONE was a fucking lunatic tonight. I couldn't come up with any explanation at all.

I had several people driving slow in the passing lane who got mad when I or anyone else went past them. I had several people riding my ass like a gay Boy Scout leader in the woods, even though they could have easily passed me if they actually wanted to. But no, they WANTED to ride my ass.

I kept my cruise control on. I kept a watch on my blinkers to make sure I wasn't driving around with either of them on, which seems to send a signal to everyone that you are a fuck up, although it can just as easily mean that you drive a Ford truck and thus have blinkers that make no sound to alert you that they are still on (what is up with that, Ford?) I made sure, over and over, that my headlights were not on high. I made sure not to tailgate anyone.

All night long, insane fucker after insane fucker played games with me and flew into rages even as I kept my middle fingers to myself, kept my mouth shut, and didn't show the slightest hint of reaction.

What the hell is wrong with everyone? Is it because Hillary and Obama are not playing nice? Is it because McCain got the nomination and now all the conservatives are voting for Ron Paul? Is it because President Bush was filming a surprise appearance on Deal or No Deal that very day? Did someone get kicked off the island, off American Idol, or booted from the house on Big Brother that shouldn't have been? Is Julia Roberts making another lousy, preachy, misandric movie? For God's sake, what is it?!

I made it home alive and without being forced to kill anyone. A miracle, to be sure. It was late. The moon was up and the stars were out. It seemed like a nice night. I was baffled as to what could possibly explain all the crazy constipated jackasses and jackassettes on the highway. When I got inside the house, my wife was asleep, but the cats were waiting for me. And they were bonkers. Stinky, in particular, was completely out of control.

The following morning, on Friday, I was listening to the news. They said there was an earthquake in Illinois at 4:37 am this morning. It was a 5.4 on the Richter scale and equaled the largest ever recorded in the region. "The quake occurred in the Illinois basin-Ozark dome region that covers parts of Indiana, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, and Arkansas and stretches from Indianapolis and St. Louis to Memphis, according to the U.S. Geological Survey." It was felt as far away as Atlanta.

So, I believe I have my answer. Apparently it isn't just pets that can sense when an earthquake is coming. It would seem that humans have some capacity in that regard as well, even if we don't know precisely what it is that is upsetting our mental balance exactly. Who knew that all those assholes and bitches on the highway were merely prophets of coming natural disaster? I guess I should thank them. I'd much rather punch them in the throat, but just this once I have decided to be nice.
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Tagged for a 6 Word Meme

OK, I was just tagged to do a meme by a lovely Australian girl. And you guys all know how I love Australian girls, right? I mean, unless you just got here you must have noticed that I have an obession with Australia and, as a direct result of all of my attention on Australia, I have noticed that there is a plethora of incredibly beautiful women there, many of whom blog, and one of whom promised to marry me even if only so I could obtain citizenship and get a job more easily. Still, I know I picked the best Aussie girl to marry, and you all do, too, 'cause you're jealous of me for having suckered, I mean, convinced her into this agreement. Ah, but that has nothing to do with this meme. I was tagged by Jenn, another lovely Australian girl, albeit not the one who promised to marry me. Still, she's very nice and so I'm doing this meme she asked for.

Ok, here's the rules

1) Write your own six word memoir;
2) Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like;
3) Link to the person that tagged you in your post, and to the original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere;
4) Tag at least five more blogs with links; and
5) Don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

Here we go:

Today I ran. Now I hurt.

I'm tagging Stacy the Peanut Queen, Dixie, Shrinking Kitty (a red hot Aussie girl), Kiki (another fabulous Australian person), Patti, and Emma.

There you have it. Deep and insightful things from my life as of today.
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Women and Those Complicated Toilet Seats


I believe every man who has ever been involved with a woman in any capacity has learned, often by the woman screaming at the top of her lungs, that women are incapable of working the common toilet seat*.

No one knows exactly why this is. We know only that all research results have been sealed and locked away by the Female Supremacist branch of the Department of Justice and that not even the President himself can get access to them.

Anyway, any man who has ever lived in the same house with a woman knows that women can't work toilet seats. Not only can they not work them, but they can't even look at them. As a result, women have been alleged to have drowned as they were sucked down by evil patriarchal toilets after they fell into them because they refused to look and see if the seat was up or not before sitting down.

This is old news. Nothing to report here. But I have discovered something new, something revolutionary, something that will absolutely blow your mind.

Not only can women not work toilet seats, but they can't work the lid either!

I shit you not. Just the other night, at 2 a.m., my loving wife got up and stumbled into the bathroom in a near coma. The seat was of course down, as I am a law-abiding drone and have utterly given up hope of resisting the government-funded Matriachy and its' fascist regime. But, alas, the toilet lid was down, too.

My wife, a reasonably intelligent but very sleepy woman, did not even notice the toilet lid being down as she sat her semi-concious butt onto the toilet and proceded to pee a sparkling golden river.

Once done, she wiped her cooter, and everything else back there in cooterland, apparently not thinking it odd that she was so much wetter than normal. She then threw the wet toilet paper onto the toilet lid and flushed. Satisfied, she stumbled back to bed.

The next morning I found a virtual toxic wasteland in our bathroom. The seat and lid were down, but soaking wet and decorated with clumps of pee-stained toilet paper. To complete the atmosphere, there was pee all around the toilet on the floor where it had spilled over. My wife, a morning person who sleeps like a rock until the instant the sun comes up, had no memory whatever of what had occured. It was as if a burglar had broken in, peed on our toilet, and then left, locking the door behind them.

After some hypnosis and some deep questioning, my wife developed vague memories of waking up and peeing that very night. "I thought it felt kinda funny, but I was too tired to care," she confessed.

So there you have it. Another clue to the mystery of women and how they are different from men. We pee on the floor in front of the toilet, and they pee on top of the toilet itself, decorating it with little bunches of toilet paper when they are done. Somehow it all makes perfect sense.

The scene of a horrible peeing-related accident

* DISCLAIMER: This is, of course, meant as a joke. There are, obviously, many women who are perfectly capable of working toilet seats. I'm being sarcastic, or something, like Hillary Clinton when she talks about being shot at by snipers in Bosnia, or Barack Obama when he insists that he had no idea his pastor of the past 20 years is a raging black supremacist racist, or John McCain when he claims to be a Republican. I love women. I just happened to have closed the lid to keep my cat from playing in the toilet. It was not intended as a trap for my wife.

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Let's Go Cruisin'

car illusion
Hop in and let's go for a drive

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Biggest Loser

I live in a nice neighborhood (now that we've moved.) I have nice neighbors. They have nice things. My things? Not so nice.

Take, for example, our lawn mowers. My neighbors don't even have lawn mowers. They have 'lawn tractors'. And I use the term 'tractor' only because that's what the dealer calls them. I call them BMWs for your yard. My neighbors lawn 'tractors' cost more money than my minitruck. I shit you not.

john deer umbrella fag
Lawn Tractor

When we first moved into this neighborhood late last year, we were mowing our 1 acre of yard with pushmowers. It was a lot of work, obviously, but moving is expensive and we had no spare money to go out and buy a lawn 'tractor'. In fact, we still don't.

The neighbors, seeing this, felt sorry for us. They offered to let us borrow their BMW, I mean, lawn tractor.

cadillac mower

I said they were nice. See?

Winter came and we didn't need to mow anymore. My brother-in-law, married to my middle sister, heard me talking about how embarrassing it was to have the neighbors feeling so sorry for us that they offered to loan us their exotic lawn sports cars. As it happened, my brother-in-law had an old riding mower that he no longer used. He had inherited it from his parents, who had been refurbishing it and using it for about 100 years or more. He himself had put a brand new motor on it when he got it. He said it worked fine. Plus, it was free. So we took it.

bike mower
Free riding mower

So now it's spring and the weeds are growing. Not in my neighbors' yards, of course, because they have a lawn service that comes and sprays their lawns to prevent the weeds. But apparently as we have been informed, the people who owned this house before us were trash, I mean, more frugal with their lawn care dollars than the rest of the neighborhood. They never, ever had anyone spray anything on this lawn and they never did anything themselves, either. So it's a green carpet of weeds and wildflowers, all mixed in with lovely bermuda grass. This means that my lawn was the first on the block to green up and need mowing. Yay me!

I took this greening as my first opportunity to break out my lovely new riding lawn mower.

I looked it over, got the jist of how it worked, checked the oil, filled the tank with gas, and began trying to start it. But it didn't want to start. Maybe I was doing it wrong? I worked on it for an hour or two. No luck. It won't start. I went inside and decided to read up on it and see if I could find what I might be doing wrong. I found nothing. So I went out again the next day to try again. For no particular reason, it started. But then, of course, it immediately stalled again.

"You bastard!" I shouted intelligently for the benefit of my neighbors. And back I went to fiddling with the engine before starting it again. This time it ran fine. Happily, I jumped on and put it into reverse, ready to storm out onto my beautiful 1 acre lawn of green weeds with enthusiasm.

Then I noticed that the front tire was flat. "Ahhhhh daaaaaaammiiitt!!!" Again, I shouted my intelligence to the world.

After much searching, I came to the inescapable conclusion that there is not a replacement wheel and tire assembly for my mower in all of Memphis. In desperation, I bought an innertube and jammed that into the tire. It worked, and I was able to pump it up and mow with it.

When my neighbors mow with their gold plated BMW lawn tractors, you can hear them start up their motors, with the dual overhead cams and 4 valves per cylinder screaming carefully tuned notes of raw horsepower. They mow their entire yard in 15 seconds flat. You can see them flying around their houses, doing the front and back all in one giant circle of flying grass and fury. Some of them wear helmets and racing gear for safety's sake. One of my neighbors wears a full firesuit and has a rollcage, but his lawn tractor can cut 1 full acre in 5 seconds flat, so you know he needs the extra protection.

munster mower
The Neighbors' Lawn Tractor

My riding mower is a Snapper. It's got an 11 horsepower Briggs and Stratton replacement motor and the transmission slips. First gear just won't engage at all. No one knows why. My cats walk casually past me when I'm in the lowest gear. In the highest gear I am very nearly moving along at a reasonable pace, at about the same speed as I walk with my old pushmower. Ah, but I'm not walking, I'm riding. That's the beauty of it! Stylin' and profilin'!


But you know my life would not be complete without the regular doses of humiliation, right? Of course. So, as I rode around my lush estate-like lawn, cheap cowboy hat on my head, very nearly fitting in with the neighbors on my big red Snapper, something happened. Something went BANG. Something fell off. It was big and red and had a bolt hole on one end and an open ended pipe at the other. I looked at it and looked at the mower, but could not figure out what the hell it did to save my life. And the mower just kept going. It apparently didn't think it needed this thing, whatever it was. So on I went, hoping to God nobody saw that.

Later, as I rode around and around my house in the blazing hot sun, I made the mistake of stopping and putting the big red Snapper in reverse. It didn't do anything. I put it back into a forward gear. Again, nothing happened. WTF? I was just going along with no trouble a minute ago and now it won't go into gear? And of course this couldn't happen in the back yard, where no one would see. Oh no, it was dead center of my front lawn, and all the neighbors were out, quietly commenting to one another about my cheap-assed, slow-as-Christmas riding mower and my cowboy hat. And there I was, stuck for no apparent reason.

I shut off the blades and flipped the mower, still running, up onto its' side so I could look underneath and try to figure out what was wrong. I believe this was the first time I had ever actually looked under there to see how it all worked. The transmission looks to be nothing more than two old metal wheels rolling against each other with a little rubber on the edge for traction. They were all covered in dust and grass, so I brushed them off and flopped the mower back down again onto my foot. I tried to act like I was cool and not in any pain as I climbed back on and put it into gear again. Ah, blessed success!

On I went, mowing again, only now, because I had flipped up the carbureted mower and engine while it was running and filled with gas, it began to sputter and stumble. Now, not only were parts falling off my mower, and the transmission stranding me in the center of my front lawn, but the engine was sounding like something from a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

The neighbors tried not to stare. I tried to pretend I didn't notice the sputtering.

And then, at last, and somewhat predictably, it just broke down. And it didn't just break down. No, it broke down dead center of my front yard, where the whole neighborhood could see. Again.

Here was my final embarrassment. Yes, because now came the part where I had to reveal just how old and low budget my new riding mower really was.

All my neighbors, when they climb into their exotic Ferrari lawn tractors, they flip a switch, turn a key, and ZOOM, they're off in a roar as the engine starts automatically for them. My Snapper? Not so much.

I had to climb off my mower and walk around to the back, where the engine is. There, sticking out of the side of my cheap old replacement engine, is a pull rope. Oh no, there's no starter. There's just me and the rope, standing in the center of my front lawn, in front of all my brand new neighbors with their shiny Formula One lawn tractors that do zero to 60 in 3.5 seconds, pulling a rope and cursing as I tried in vain to get my big red Snapper riding mower to start up again.

But of course it wouldn't start.

And so, like an idiot, I had to put it into neutral and push it around back to my shop to try to figure out what was wrong with it. It wasn't enough that I have a Snapper. It wasn't enough that parts fell off it. It wasn't enough that it stranded me in my front yard in full view of the entire neighborhood. It wasn't enough that I was forced to reveal the secret of my pull-cord engine. No, that wasn't humiliation enough for me. I had to endure the final humiliation, the pushing my broken down Snapper to the backyard in total defeat.

Oh, I'm making a BIG splash here amongst my new neighbors. Between my banana yellow hearse in the driveway, my flyers in their mailboxes for a missing cat named Spongebob Stinkypants, and my big red Snapper, you just KNOW they're all very impressed.

I'm The Shit.
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Life's Little Risks

ladder and bucket
Don't step on the top step
unless you have a bucket there
then it's OK

electrical nightmare
At least all the ends are capped

ladder ladder
Necessity is the mother of
emergency room visits

human tie down
Only a relative would make a man do something like this
so you know Dad is driving

truck canoe
Dude, there isn't room for both you AND my beer up here

impending doom
Sometimes there is a good reason
for laughing at a funeral

Momma must really love her babies
and be high on crack

air conditioner daredevil
How exactly is the guy on the balcony helping any?

They don't have jack stands in Mexico?

Clearance 14 feet

* Sent to me by the very beautiful Liquid
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So Close

Congrats to the Memphis Tigers' basketball team in making it to the championship.

So close, and yet so far.

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The 3rd Degree - Narcissism in a Polite and Blogable form

Blue hair
It's all about me, tee hee!

1. Is anything wrong?
Yes, Office 2007 is a memory devouring, slow as Christmas, annoying piece of shit!

2. Have you kissed anyone at the top of your blogroll?
I can't remember which of us was on top, but even if I could, I'm not telling you.

3. Do you want to go to college?
Again?! Well, maybe if someone else paid for me to get my MBA. And I could sleep with college girls again.

4. How many kids do you want to have?
1 or 2 would be a huge step in the right direction, although there is a black girl in Texas who claims I am the father of all 6 of hers. I don't think they look like me, though. The DNA tests were inconclusive, so whatcha gonna do? Maybe I did it and I just don't recall?

5. Do you have a good relationship with your parent(s)?
It depends on how you mean. Dad is dead, so that can't get any worse. Mom is busy fighting a battle for her life against Evil Sister, so I'm off the radar.

6. What did you do for your last birthday?
I don't recall. Probably nothing. Wait, I went to Rockettown and had a party at Claudia's house. Claudia is cool, which sorta raises the question of what she was doing hanging out with a loser like me.

7. What were you doing at midnight last night?
Jessica Biel. Or maybe that was a dream, in which case, I slept through it.

8. Name something you CANNOT wait for?
The end of the world. That should be pretty damned exciting, don't you think? BAM!

9. The idiot who wrote this forgot to include a question here. What would you like everyone to know about you that wasn't asked?
I am the greatest lover in the entire world. Women should be offering themselves to me and paying for it.

10. Again, idiot forgot to put a question here. Anything else everyone should know about you?
Yes, I carry no cash, but I am armed and often gassy, so even if I don't shoot you, I may blind you with deadly methane gas. So just watch yourself, bucko!

11. Have you ever talked to Tom
Tom Selleck? Yes, I called him up and told him that Jesse Stone character he plays in made-for-TV movies sometimes is a blazing lesbian bulldyke. He didn't appreciate the constructive criticism much.

12. Last thing you ate/drank?
Hershey's kiss and Vodka

13. Are you happy?
No, I'm not one of the seven dwarfs.

14. Why do you blog?
To meet girls without having to pay for it.

15. How much longer do you plan to blog?
I'm almost finished.

16. Who’s making you feel the way you are right now?
I don't see any Taser darts sticking out of my genitals, so it must be ME making me feel this way. I'm tired, but not screaming and bursting into flames. Yep, no Tasers.

17. Why do you respond to these quizzes?
To fill the empty spaces in my life and pretend I matter.

18. Last person to make you mad?
Probably some joker in traffic, although those Celtic Woman girls on PBS can be exasperating sometimes. There is one, though, that I think is hot. She won't return my calls. What's up with that? I thought Irish girls were easy?!

19. Coke or Pepsi?
I don't like to mix soft drinks with my drug habits.

20. Have you hugged anyone today?
Not since this morning. Well, I did mug my cat this morning, but a mug is not the same as a hug really. And you don't so much hug a cat as to wad them up and squeeze till they beg for mercy.

21. How happy are you?
I don't think happy is the right word.

22. How many siblings do you have?
147! Goodnight John Boy. Goodnight Mary Ellen. Goodnight Jessica Biel.

23. Do you have any pets?
I did just mention that cat I was wadding up, right? Yeah, that and one other. Technically the other belongs to the wife, but when they fight she suddenly becomes mine and wants my lap. This, of course, pisses my wife off. Women can be such bitches, even cat women.

24. What's your favorite number(s)?
10,000,000 with a '$' in front of it.

25. What do you do after school/work?
I go to the gym and molest women who have "PINK" written across their asses. Sometimes they give me money afterwards.

26. Do you know how to swim?
Why, are you planning to throw me into a river?
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


1. Are you jealous of one or more of your friends?

I have no friends. I live in a cave with no cable TV or plumbing. Bums come by and pee in my front doorway. Sometimes I hit them with rocks and steal their shoes. No wait, that was a dream. Nevermind.

2. Have you known any of your friends your whole life?
No, my whole life hasn't happened yet. I've still got a tiny bit more to go. You'll have to catch me just as I'm dying and ask me this in order for me to answer properly. But then, what with me all preocuppied with the dying, I'll probably just tell you to fuck off.

3. Are any of your friends taller than you?
No, I am the tallest man in the whole wide world!

4. Have you ever been ditched by a friend?
Well, if so, they weren't my friend, were they?
_ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


1.Do you play with things when you get nervous?

What sort of things? Have you been peeking in my windows? Masturbation is perfectly natural, dammit! Sometimes I play with guns when I'm nervous. Don't make me nervous. And stop peeking in my windows.

2. Do you have an odd obsession with knives?
No, I wouldn't say it's 'odd'

3. Do you sleep with the door open or closed?
Cave - no door

4. What is your worst habit?
Crashing my computer and then filing an accident report. The police are getting real sick of it.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


1. Do you currently like someone?

I like you if you're nice to me. Unless I don't know you at all. Unless you're a hottie, in which case just being nice even without knowing me is good. But I don't like spiders and snakes, and that ain't what it takes to love me, like I wanna be loved by you!

2. Do you want to kill one of your ex's?
No, why kill them after you've already gotten rid of them?

4. Has one of your crushes ever called you self centered before?
Self centered whore? No, I don't believe so. Man whore, but not self centered whore.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


1. Do you think abortions are horrible?

Well, it wasn't pleasant, but I survived anyway and here I am. I'm not real thrilled about Mom trying to do that to me, though. Good thing she has lousy aim and no skills with tools.

2. You have plenty of secrets?
Just government secrets. The usual stuff
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


1. Have you ever fallen UP the stairs?

Yes, my arms pump faster than my feet can climb sometimes

2. Have you ever had a nail fall off?
No, just rip off when Youngest Sister flung the door open and I was behind it in my bare feet, which ended up wedged under the bottom of the door, minus a big toe nail.

3. Have you ever slapped someone across the face?
Um ....... yes, when I was 3. After that I learned to punch. Then the misandric feminists at my school taught the girls to kick and grope, which we quickly adopted, too. After that it was Tae Kwan Do. Then Filipino stick and knife fighting. Now I just headbutt a lot. I guess I'm getting lazy.

4. Have you ever killed anyone?
Who told you about that?! Come here so I can headbutt you.

5. Worn the same clothes for a week straight
Not quite that long, no.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


1. Do you enjoy drama?

No, please leave it at home. Thanks.

2. Is there any type of rumor going around about you?
Yes, that I am leaving my wife and running away to Australia to marry Steph. It took me weeks of hard work to spread this rumor. I am SO excited! Steph is somewhat less so. I expect I'll be getting some sort of letterbomb any day now.

Pooya! More narcissism from the dredges of my brain, for YOUR entertainment! You're so very welcomed. Please, no applause. Just throw money. Yes, and panties - thanks Sam!
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By the Way, Which One's Pink?

I was watching TV yesterday, when a show about Pink Floyd came on. They talked a lot about Sid Barrett and how he went crazy. I had listened to their music all through high school without ever really knowing much about who he was. The show ended up being more about him than anything else. It was kind of depressing.

I used to listen to Pink Floyd all the time, especially when I felt like I was down in a hole, which was most of the time back then. By the time I had graduated college I just couldn't listen to their music at all anymore. Even today, whenever one of their songs comes on, it starts dragging me back and I usually turn it off.

Oddly enough, and maybe I'm just weird, but to me the most interesting part of the show was when one of them played the opening notes of "Shine on you crazy diamond" and said "I don't know where this came from. I think I was trying to play an A chord and just messed up, but it has a haunting sound and I liked it."

Apparently Sid had walked into the studio when they were first recording this very song for the "Wish You Were Here" album. They hadn't seen him in five years and didn't recognize him. He had shaved his head, eyebrows and all, and gained about 100 pounds. They said it was scary to see this obviously crazy man, a stranger to them, jumping up and down in their studio while they played. And once they found out who he was, they were all devastated by how totally unrecognizable and completely gone he was.

I'm sorry this isn't funnier. This is what's on my mind. It's raining and dark and I can't get this song out of my head. Also, yesterday I made a comment on Steph's Much Ado About Sumthin' about wanting to go get drunk with her and throw pickles on the ceiling of a place called Maccers (which I later learned is simply Aussie for McDonald's.) She said she wondered if I could keep up with her. I said I probably couldn't and would most likely wake up on a street in the morning with pissed in pants and no shoes and no idea where I was. Well, I regret saying that because I dreamed it last night. Steph was in the dream briefly, but mostly I was just lost in Sydney, very much alone.

If you want some of my regular funny, please go visit Burt Reynold's Mustache. Today is my day to post there, and so I have.

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Test for Dementia


Below are four (4) questions and a bonus question. You have to answer them instantly. You can't take your time, answer all of them immediately . OK?

Let's find out just how clever you really are....

First Question:

You are participating in a race. You overtake the second person. What position are you in?

Answer: If you answered that you are first, then you are
Absolutely wrong! If you overtake the second person and you take his place, you are second!

Try not to screw up next time.
Now answer the second question,
But don't take as much time as you took for the first question, OK ?

Second Question:
If you overtake the last person, then you are...?

Answer: If you answered that you are second to last, then you are wrong again. Tell me, how can you overtake the LAST Person?

You're not very good at this, are you?

Third Question:
Very tricky arithmetic! Note: This must be done in your head only .
Do NOT use paper and pencil or a calculator. Try it.

Take 1000 and add 40 to it. Now add another 1000 . Now add 30 .
Add another 1000 . Now add 20 . Now add another 1000
Now add 10 . What is the total?

Did you get 5000 ?

The correct answer is actually 4100.

If you don't believe it, now check it with a calculator!
Today is definitely not your day, is it?
Maybe you'll get the last question right....

Fourth Question:

Mary's father has five daughters: 1. Nana, 2. Nene, 3. Nini,
4. Nono. What is the name of the fifth daughter?

Did you Answer Nunu?
NO! Of course it isn't.
Her name is Mary. Read the question again

Okay, now the bonus round:

A mute person goes into a shop and wants to buy a toothbrush. By imitating the action of brushing his teeth he successfully expresses himself to the shopkeeper and the purchase is done.

Next, a blind man comes into the shop who wants to buy a pair of sunglasses; how does HE indicate what he wants?

He just has to open his mouth and ask...
It's really very simple....


* Sent to me by the very smart Katya Coldheart!
You have read this article test with the title April 2008. You can bookmark this page URL http://thebohemianbunny.blogspot.com/2008/04/test-for-dementia.html. Thanks!
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