I was asked to do this. Sorta. After seeing my shitty video I doubt I'll be asked again.
This has made the rounds of various blogs. I got it from Ute, who got it from Fen. It's to show others how a blogger sounds, what our accent is like, how badly we curse, whether we have a lisp or sound gay, and that sort of thing.
I'm sorry if my voice sounds like I have a cold. I always sound like that. This is why I never became a famous singer. This and the fact that I suck at singing.
What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
What is the bug that when you touch it, it curls into a ball?
What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?
What do you call gym shoes?
What do you say to address a group of people?
What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?
What do you call your grandparents?
What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?
What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
What is the thing you change the TV channel with?
So there you go. Wasn't that exciting? No? Well, not every day can be Drunken Rant Saturday, now can it?
I think I'm supposed to tag some people to do this, not that anyone responds to my tags. But OK, I tag:
Karina of Anywhere But Here in Vancouver Krista of Oceanaria formly of Toronto, now in Vancouver Alyson in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada Senorita in San Fran Spiky in Los Angeles White Rabbit in the UK Electro Kevin in the UK Jules in New Zealand Unique Stephen in eastern Australia Frankie in Perth, Western Australia Ubermouth of the UK Dog3oy in Singapore Marie in London, but originally from Sweden I'm looking for anyone in South Africa I'm looking for anyone in South America I'm looking for anyone in the Netherlands, Sweden, Finland, Denmark, Iceland, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, Russia - come on, let me hear from you!
There will be more tags to come if I can find a way to reach some of the people I'm thinking of. The further away you are, the more I want to hear your VLog. After all, this one is about Accents and Regional Dialects. And even if I didn't tag you, feel free to do this. And then tell me in the comments so I can come listen and make fun of you, er, marvel at your unique and special way of talking.
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"The 6.3 quake that rocked Christchurch, New Zealand, was a bad hit to a city that six months ago didn't realize it lived on a fault line. But amid the rubble, this country has the civil culture to recover quickly.
Sometimes the most telling indicators can be seen in little things. Hours after the quake struck, a British tourist posted a film on the Internet showing a huge rock slide rumbling down to houses on a street just outside Christchurch — and in the background, a Kiwi resident diligently sweeping away the debris so the cars could still get through.
Meanwhile, news photos showed other New Zealanders, acting on their own initiative, marching over to the badly damaged hotel district in the center of the city, and offering homeless tourists their beds ... "
and then read the most heart-wrenching blog post ever, here:
"They were just walking out of the cafe as it happened, Chris (Mrs) pushed her husband hard out of the way of falling debris, he still didn't have the strength to move at any pace. He was knocked to the ground by part of a falling building and she threw herself over top of him to protect him from anything else coming down. When the dust cleared she noticed that he was bleeding out from his leg, she ripped off her top and tried to tourniquet his thigh, it wouldn't work, he fell unconscious. A couple of people tried CPR but he didn't recover and a policeman told them they had to leave ..."
"APN News & Media, publisher of nzherald.co.nz, has launched a nation-wide appeal for Christchurch earthquake victims with an initial company contribution of $100,000 ..."
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new zealand
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It's Monday morning and I'm already exhausted. I'm supposed to go to my workout at noon today and pump with the volleyball players, but I don't think I have it in me. Yesterday I went hiking in the mountains. I was on that trail for a couple of hours and got a little dehydrated. The night before I got almost no sleep at all, so today I'm just totally drained. I know I shouldn't skip this workout. Hell, with the shape I'm in I shouldn't skip any workouts ever. In fact, I should be doing 2 a day. But I'm falling over. I'll probably go home at lunch and lie down for 30 minutes, then eat something and head back for another stressful day of work.
I didn't go to Memphis this past weekend. So last night when I would have been on the road battling drunks with cell phones swerving down the highway, instead I was going over my 4x4, checking the oil, checking the antifreeze (radiator was bone dry - not good), and polishing the damn plastic lenses that pose as my headlights because they had become so dull and hazy that my headlights barely seemed to shine through. I remember when headlights were made of glass and you didn't have to polish them in order to use them. Those were the days, when steel was steel and had chrome on it and headlights were made of glass. Now we get plastic fenders, Styrofoam 'bumpers' that do nothing, crumple zones - which is just another way of saying cheap ass car wads up like a sheet of aluminum foil, and air bags.
I'm sure air bags seemed like a good idea to someone, but the reality is they knock the living shit out of people who were often otherwise OK until the airbag punched them in the face like Mike Tyson. I hate them. I hate them almost as much as I hate crumple zones and fake bumpers.
I remember watching a film of Henry Ford crash testing one of his old Model A cars. He drove it to the side of a hill and then pushed it off sideways so that it rolled all the way down the hill. Then he walked to the bottom of the hill, got in the car, and drove it back up the hill again. It was fine. Yeah, try doing that with a fucking Toyota Prius sometime and see how well it does. Fucking piece of shit plastic battery-powered Matchbox toy car can't even survive hitting a squirrel without something crumpling, something falling off and the fucking air bag punching you in the face.
I thought the future was supposed to be taking us forward. Certainly that's how all the old science fiction movies portrayed it. Everything was shown as better in the future. Except that everyone wore white jumpsuits and ate pills instead of actual food. And when you turn 30 they cook you and eat you, unless you're Michael York and you escape. And apes take over the world. But other than that, things were supposed to be better and cooler. But the reality is a bit different. Today, if you pit a 1970 Dodge Polara against a 2011 Dodge Charger in a head-on collision, the Polara will emerge without a scratch and the Charger will wad itself into a neat little ball of recyclable garbage, like a crushed beer can with a tiny little airbag inside. And the old Polara rides better, has more room inside, holds more junk in the trunk, and you can sit on the hood and lay back onto the windshield to look at the stars in the sky without denting anything or cracking the glass, unlike the new Charger or any new car, which collapses the minute you lean on it too hard. Oh, and also, the old Polara came with a 440 cubic inch engine if you wanted it.
A steel car is a real car
It's a sign of our decline that we can't afford to make cars out of steel anymore. We can't make them strong enough that a teenager can stand on the hood with a beer in their hand and shout "wooooo" to some girl whose house he's parked in front of and has a crush on without the hood collapsing under his skinny teenaged weight, doing thousands of dollars worth of damage.
We can't teach kids how to read or do math in school anymore, either. We're too busy teaching them 'social consciousness' and feminist hatred of white males instead. Meanwhile, the boys are being castrated in the hallways between classes Adam Sandler-style and carried to the hospital with ruptured testicles while the teachers stand by, video the assaults and laugh, but do nothing to stop this sexual war on our boys. They're too busy encouraging the girls to be strippers and put condoms on bananas and cucumbers to worry about the boys being sexually tortured in their own classrooms. Meanwhile, the cops roam the halls with Tasers, which they use on the boys genitals whenever they catch the boys being late for class or going to the bathroom without a hall pass. The boys keep cracking up with all the sexual abuse, randomly coming to school with guns and bombs and blasting everyone because they just can't take it anymore, but no one will help them or put a stop to what is being done to them. And then we wonder why no one wants their kids to go to the public schools.
No future
We can't make a decent movie anymore. There are 45 new movies in theaters right now and advertising on TV all day long, every single day, annoying the shit out of me. Of the 45 movies, 34 feature multiple scenes of guys getting hurt in the testicles, apparently as a gag. This is supposed to draw viewers in, don't you know, and it's all they've got to offer in the way of physical comedy. Hey, some guy just got castrated! Isn't that great? I think I'm going to spend $15 to go see this great piece of cinematic genius! Oh wait, no I'm not. I hate that sexist shit. I can turn to the Disney Channel and see that a thousand times a day for free on Hannah Montana so why drive to a theater and pay a ridiculous amount of money to see the same insulting and degrading shit from Adam Sandler or whoever else these idiots are in the other movies? Fuck that. If I'm going to all the trouble to go see a movie in the theater and pay the outrageous prices they charge, I'll go see the one that doesn't have to rely on misandric sexual violence and abuse in place of actual comedy, original ideas or a real story. I'll go see the one with Owen Wilson, Jenna Fischer and Christina Applegate starring in it because it looks like it could be funny and because Jenna and Christina are both hot. Plus, no one gets hit in the balls, at least not in any of the ads.
Parenting fail
I should be watching more news. I should be trying to keep up more with what is going on in the world. But our news is mostly shit, too. All the major TV networks are owned by billionaire Marxists who use their death-grip on our media sources to shove hate and bullshit down our throats. In the old days, this was called propaganda, and it was associated with socialist legends such as Adolph "Alfie" Hitler and "Uncle" Joseph Stalin. Now we associate it with CBS' overlord, "crazy-assed" Sumner Redstone, or any of the other big networks, all of which are controlled by a tiny handful of guys who all hang out together and think alike. The only exception to this is Rupert Murdoch, who owns Fox, and who was smart enough to realize that the only way he could break into the elitist world of giant television networks was to offer programming to the neglected half of the population who aren't communists. Unfortunately, it wasn't out of some high moral fiber that he did this, as the rest of his programming demonstrates. It was simply realistic thinking and mental clarity that brought him to the decision to target the 'other half' of the population with his network, and even then only with the news programs. If half the people of the world have nowhere to turn for news that doesn't directly insult them, clearly the best way to break into the television business is to target them as your audience. It doesn't mean the programming you provide isn't shit, only that it insults different people with its shittyness.
Speaking of the news, here in the United States we keep hearing that the Egyptian people are protesting for democracy in their country. But when I skip our major misinformation sources and dig a little deeper, what I find is that the Egyptians aren't protesting for democracy. They are protesting in favor or an Islamic dictatorship in which shariah law is forced on all citizens of Egypt and Egyptian women are thus treated like men are in the Western nations, shittily. They support Hezbollah and the attacks on the United States, including 9/11, and want to attack Israel. In short, what they want is a government that joins with the Saudi Royals and Osama bin Laden in making war on America and, in fact, all Western nations, while lobbing missiles at Israel for fun. Funny, but this sounds nothing like what our news media is telling us.
One thing I did see in the news today is a story about the rising crisis the various Christian denominations are facing, as more and more people (men) are leaving them and going to non-denominational churches instead. It seems that the old, mainstream denominations are losing members (men) in droves, and haven't a clue as to why. Having grown up in the heart of the Bible Belt and dragged to every Southern Baptist church in the state of Alabama as a youth, I think I might have some ideas about why this is occurring. If you scroll up to a few of the things that I said previously, all the sexual violence against men in movies and TV that is being encouraged, and all the real life sexual violence against boys in our schools that no one is doing anything about, you might think to ask, "what has the Christian church done about this to try and stop it? What have Christian leaders said about this problem which very non-Christian researchers in non-Christian places like the University of New Hampshire have documented and even declared an alarm over, stating that the rates of sexual violence against males in America are now a verified and exploding epidemic?
Welcome to adolescence - Get used to this
And I would answer you - nothing, nada, zip, zilch, zero, not a single word.
The mainstream Christian churches in America are too politically correct and feminized to ever dare speak out in protest about the epidemic of S&M-syle sexual violence and abuse directed at the males in our society, because they fear the women in the church, with women very nearly being the only people left in the churches now, might take offense at the diversion of attention over to the 'hated' sex. They might become offended at the very suggestion that males might be victims of any kind, especially of a sexual kind, and leave. And if the women leave the mainstream churches, no one will be left in them anymore. Of course, if the churches hadn't gone feminist in the first place, they wouldn't be in the predicament they currently find themselves in. But they did, and so more and more Christians, those who actually care about God and the law, have left them and gone elsewhere, sort of like audiences did to the Big 3 television networks and CNN when Fox came along. Or like the Christian people of Sweden did when government took over the churches and ordered them to be politically correct and feminist in all that they say and do, leaving their churches as empty as a tomb, forced now to rely on government tax payouts to simply remain in existence, but serving no real purpose, as Swedish Christians all worship at home, away from government interference and PC propaganda and hate.
Broken church
Anyway, that's the thoughts rolling out of my head today. I'm tired from the weekend and apparently missing my workout. I'm going to regret missing my workout, but it can't be helped. I have too much to do at work today to think about that until the day is done and I am home again. Maybe I'll go after work and lift weights or something? Or maybe I'll just go straight home from work and go to bed, to sleep until tomorrow when I have to get up and go back to work again?
You have read this article misandric monday
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I went to the gym yesterday. I've been sick so it was a test to see how well recovered I am. Apparently I am recovered well enough to have returned to my previous pathetic state.
She can't take her eyes off me
The instructor is always looking at me, monitoring me. I'd like to say she's checking me out, but I know that isn't true. She's looking at me in that worried way that people do when they see someone they think is about to keel over and die. She keeps saying "go at your own pace. Rest if you need to. Take a break if you have to." Things like that. And she's usually looking at me when she says it.
The greatest insult of all happened yesterday. I did, in fact, need to rest so I sat my ass down on the floor for a minute while everyone else was doing lunges while pressing weights overhead. The woman in front of me, apparently seeing me in the mirror, turned around and said "are you all right?" Yes, I am fine. I am sitting on the floor because I am tired, but I will be getting up again in a minute.
I'm surrounded
All around me are college volleyball girls. They pump along, never tired, never sweating, never huffing or puffing or blowing anyone's house in. I'm pouring sweat. I always do. I have been this way since I was 11 years old. I sweat waterfalls. And I have bad allergies, so my nose runs during class. Today I thought I'd be smart and bring a handkerchief to blow my nose without having to leave class. Well, it was a particularly bad day for allergies and I soaked that handkerchief on the first blow. It was nasty. And all around me are the young, shiny volleyball girls, all hearing me going "HONK" and eyeing me with their side glances. "Is he REALLY using a handkerchief? Like, I haven't seen anyone use one of those since my grandpa, and he died in the 1980s when I was in diapers."
No eye contact
The college volleyball girls won't ever look at me directly. I know why. They don't want to make eye contact. They fear that if they do I will lock onto them and then smile a goofy grin, like guys do when their brains are drowning in dopamine and oxytocin which is kicked off by a strong physical attraction and makes guys suddenly become retarded. It has an effect similar to cocaine. I know this because I learned it in biology back in college. Hot girls make guys dumb. And then we get that stupid grin on our faces because our brains are suddenly stoned out of existence and all we have to function with is our most basic "lizard" brain which isn't very bright and rarely impresses women. They call this thinking with our dicks, but that's not quite scientifically accurate, although it's close. The stupid grin is a warning to women, especially hot young single women, that trouble is lumbering their way all Frankenstein-like. And they don't want trouble to lumber their way, grinning like an idiot, and trying to make small-talk with grunts and moans. So they won't look at me. And that's just as well, because I can see myself in the mirror, and I look like ass. Even worse, being surrounded by hot young college volleyball girls just makes me look even worse. It accentuates my assness in contrast to their hot young shiny. And it makes me feel rotten. And the feeling rotten then makes me shine less and less, so that my sweaty, honking, snotty assness stands out even more as the light inside of me gets dimmer and dimmer because of seeing my ass-like self in that damn mirror surrounded by shiny glimmering angels.
See how she shines?
Even worse, these volleyball girls, nothing against them, but they aren't anything spectacular. I mean, outside of class I probably wouldn't pay much attention to them any more than they would me. But in this class, where most of the students pumping away are over 30, this random flood of collegiate athlete girls stands out. I don't know what it is about girls who play volleyball, but they have a certain look to them everywhere I have ever encountered them. And this crew is no different. There are three or four of them who look like they have stuffed 2 volleyballs under their shirts, only it isn't volleyballs, it's the real them. So sure, they attract some attention there in the gym. And I'm sure they want to avoid as much of that attention as possible, especially in a class filled with over-30 guys.
Those aren't volleyballs
As for me, I'm too busy trying to keep up with the teacher to stare at the volleyballs under the shirts of the volleyball girls. I'm sweating and huffing and wondering how I could lift weights, play soccer and run distance races all my life and still struggle so much in this damn class. Why won't she just slow down? Why are we doing a zillion squats and lunges? My legs are going to fall off and I may projectile vomit if this continues. I could do a million pushups and dips and overhead presses if she'd just have us do that first and then do the zillion squats and lunges, but when we do them first I can't do jack crap afterwards. By the time we got to the pushups I felt like I was going to suffocate from lack of air. And then the worst possible thing happened - I felt my knees coming down towards the ground. For God's sake, it's just pushups! I am NOT going to put my knees down on the ground to do damn pushups. But down they came and thumped on the ground and there I was with my knees down doing pushups like a girl. But those volleyball girls weren't doing girl pushups. It was just me.
I was the only girl doing these pushups
You'd think I wouldn't go back after such humiliation, doing girl pushups surrounded by college girls who did man pushups while pretending that I wasn't even there, blowing my nose and sweating all over the place, gasping for air while the woman in front of me asked if I was OK or maybe needed an ambulance. But my whole life is one giant humiliation. I am accustomed to humiliation. The fact that I struggled so much just means I'm doing the right workout. My muscles need the shock of something they can't do for a change. Sure, I know this type of workout is tailored towards women more than men. I remember when Cory Everson was Ms Olympia and she created this whole "body pump" workout specifically for women. She used to invite male bodybuilders to try to do her workouts with her and she'd make them squat until they vomited. It's just the way it is. I can load up a bar and squat with a ton of weight, touch my ass to my heels and stand back up again, but ask me to do a million reps with my warm-up weight and I'll run out of gas in a hurry. I can max on bench, do some negatives and partial bench presses, clank the big plates together and feel good about my bench, but ask me to do a hundred thousand pushups after doing squats till I puked and I will drop my knees to the ground and end up shaking out a handful of girl pushups while my sinuses clog with snot because I have allergies and suddenly I can't breathe at all.
Don't talk to me about sinus surgery. I already had it. It made things worse. My doctor was a lunatic and everyone I ever met who had that surgery performed by him regretted it. He didn't know what he was doing. Either that or he's intentionally incompetent. Either way, I had the surgery. It didn't help. I still can't breathe.
When class is over everyone has to mill around putting all their equipment back up. The women all talk to each other. People who have been in the class forever all talk. I am new. I don't know anyone. The volleyball girls don't want to make eye contact. I don't talk. I just sweat and blow my nose and do girl pushups and sometimes I stop and sit down on the floor while women harass me that I might be dying. But I will be back on Wednesday to do it again. And I will be back the next week, too. When it isn't hard for me anymore, then I'll do something else, but until then, this is what I need to be doing - humiliating myself, apparently.
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dopamine /
girl pushups /
gym /
oxytocin
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So it's a cold Thursday evening and it's rush hour. You have clearly stopped somewhere for a beer or twelve before getting back on the road to head to your trailer park. It's 28 degrees Fahrenheit, but you're crawling along blocking the passing lane with your window rolled all the way down so you can hang your arm out and signal to other drivers what you think of them. You've got your baseball hat on backwards as a marker of your status in life. The hat, coupled with the hunter green Camaro, your excessively slow passing-lane driving, and the inappropriateness of your window being down in this weather is all one giant waving red flag to the world that you are a rolling arrest record for various misdemeanors all involving alcohol and public nudity.
I'm not sure what your problem with me was, or if it was even specifically with me seeing as you were blocking the entire highway all at once with your intentional slowness, but when I passed you on the right and you sped up to block me out, then you had a problem with me, because I wasn't going to be blocked by a shithead loser like you. I passed you and suddenly you felt motivated to get up off your ass and accelerate. You also felt motivated to turn on your high beams, which had the effect of lighting up my rear bumper and reflecting off the chrome back into your own white trash face, genius. You tried tailgating me, but with my big-assed rear bumper and your plastic and not-so-fantastic Camaro it was a pretty empty threat. It was the sort of stupidity I'd expect from a Hee Haw winner like you, though.
I did enjoy it when we sat side-by-side at the red light. I liked looking down into your rolling trashcan of a car, all filled with every bag and can you'd eaten and drank from for the past 10 years, while you sat there trying to act badass with your backwards baseball hat and rolled down window. Is your window broken? Is that why you kept it down? I ask because I've noticed that all the rednecks around here always have their driver's door window rolled down and they always rest their arm on the door even when it's 28 degrees out. It's like saying "I'm too stupid to roll my window up, rain or shine or sleet or snow." And it did begin to sleet on your stupid ass, too. That made me laugh.
When I turned off the highway and you suddenly found your manhood long enough to show the world how high class you are with your extended middle finger, it was no surprise to anyone. Your Camaro labeled you a moonshine moron long before you held your hand up one finger at a time to show us. I'm sure when you got home to your trailer, which is no doubt in the trailer park located right next to the most infamous strip club in this city, Visionz, where your sister/girlfriend works, I'll bet you slammed your door good and hard to tell the world how angry you are, rattling the window that won't roll up because you broke it by slamming the door like that. And then you stomped into your single-wide trailer and slammed that door, too. I'll bet the instant you got inside you got another beer from the fridge before turning on your big-screen TV and flipping straight over to 'wrassling' didn't you? And then you plopped your useless ass down on your torn and duct-taped vinyl couch that you took from a dumpster and totally forgot about the sleet falling outside, filling up your driver's seat with ice because you were too stupid to cover it and too lazy to take your car to have the damn window fixed. 'Cause you're a winner, Bubba. Your life is awesome.
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I stole this from Miss Boudoir, a hot female blogger who got my attention with her screaming pink blog and sexy profile picture. Hey, I can't help being superficial. I'm a blogger, not Dr. Phil, who is also pretty superficial but much better paid for it.
OK, so here are 50 questions that were asked of other bloggers, all females, which I stole and answered myself for absolutely no good reason other than that I am lazy and don't have to work very hard on posts like this compared to other posts.
1 - How old do you act? When I'm happy I act about 12. The rest of the time I act about 50, assuming 50 involves a lot of watching TV and shouting things at the screen about how stupid the stuff on TV is.
2 - Why is the sky blue? Because the sky is filled with farts and farts are made of methane and methane makes the sky blue. They fart a lot in Australia which is why the sky is bluer there than anywhere else in the world, or so I'm told.
3 - Do you burp, fart, or both in front of others? I burp in front of others when I'm totally lost in my own world and forget where I am. I fart for entertainment, so I won't waste a good one on you if you aren't someone who can appreciate a fine quality toot.
4 - Someone's writing a book based on your life. What would the title be? "The Stupidest Man in the World"
5 - How many days in a row can you go without taking a dump? I pretty much dump my load about once a day. I have no problem doing it at work. It's one of the few chances I get to read the paper. Somehow reading the news and shitting seem to be a perfect match for each other.
6 - Favorite childhood cartoon? Bugs Bunny
7 - Have you ever caught someone in the act of masturbating? Not if I could help it. Blech. Maybe if some Playboy bunnies lived near me I'd feel differently about it, but they don't so I don't either.
8 - Favorite food to make/bake/cook/etc? I like to make a trip to the counter and say "Gimme a number 1 with a Coke."
9 - What's one redeeming quality about mushrooms? They give shade to frogs and when I whack them with a golf club they always drive straight and true
10 - What's wrong with Richard Simmons? He's flaming on the inside, but frosting and sprinkles on the outside. And his cupcakes have all gone stale.
11 - Name one celebrity who needs to come out of the closet. We've had more than enough celebrities leaping and hopping out of the closet. What we need is for a few of them to get back in the closet and shut the fuck up about their private sexual habits for awhile. Sometimes less is more.
12 - Name one redeeming quality about asparagus. Its great to have in a food fight 'cause it throws well.
13 - If "We Are the Champions", what are you? Freddie Mercury, I guess, only with better teeth and no one climbing up my ass
14 - What's something they taught you in school that should never be taught to anyone? They taught me how to stab a 6th grade boy in the balls with a pencil for absolutely no reason. Seriously. This is what went on at the school I went to. The teachers taught it and encouraged it as much as they could. And now you know just a little more about how I ended up so fucked up and angry.
15 - What's the deal with Steven Segal anyways? He can't accept the fact that he's yesterday and needs to go home and finish growing old there.
16 - Name two movies that should have never been made. How about every movie Adam Sandler ever made? How many is that?
17 - Do you enjoy to point, stare, and laugh at others? Do I enjoy to point? What are you, straight off the boat? I enjoy people-watching and I may on occasion laugh to myself at someone who appears more goofy than average. Memphis has a high level of goofy and ugly so there is a lot of entertainment value in people-watching in Memphis.
18 - Name one or more words that every time you hear them, make you cringe. Balls, Oprah, ABC Family
19 - Have you ever put anything up your ass? My own head a time or two
20 - What can you do better than most? I'm a pretty talented smart-ass.
21 - Have you smoked pot? 2nd-hand for a few hours, as did everyone else at that concert
22 - Would you wrestle a member of the same sex, nude, in pudding for 10 minutes for one million dollars? Yeah, and I'd pin that fucker and make him scream "uncle" too. Then I'd spend that money so fast it'd make the IRS' head spin
23 - Happiest moment of your life? I'm still waiting
24 - Name in order, the body parts of the opposite sex you notice first. 1. Smile, or lack thereof 2. Eyes, gleaming or glaring? 3. Breasts 4. lower good parts 5. hands, holding a weapon or empty?
25 - What or where's the furthest you've been away from home? Somewhere in the Caribbean, on an island herding cats while wearing scuba gear
26 - Have you ever been to Africa? I live in Memphis. It's like South Africa except without any of the beautiful Dutch women.
27 - Can you currently do a split? I cannot currently nor could I ever do a split. I came close in taekwondo back in The Day, but never made it all the way down.
28 - What's better - a knee-jerk reaction or a polish knee slap? I've never experienced a Polish knee slap so I'm going with the knee jerk out of shear ignorance
29 - Ever given anyone a dutch oven? Only in the sense of how it relates to farting
30 - What's your favorite kind of apple? Fionna Apple is my favorite apple
31 - Favorite Muppet? Fozzy Bear, cause he was a loser like me
32 - Squash just doesn't sound very tasty. What say you? I say pizza doesn't sound tasty either, but it is.
33 - How many sexual partners have you had? Not nearly as many as I'd dreamed of when I was a frustrated teen
34 - Favorite number? Twelve trillion, and please deliver it to my door in cash
35 - Favorite type of pet? Uh ... Penthouse?
36 - Favorite sexual position? Just anything that results in sex
37 - Least favorite sexual position? The one that ends up in the emergency room with screaming and crying
38 - Is it better to give or receive? Depends on what it is that's being given or received
39 - When's the last time you vomited? It depends. Does it count if it comes out your ass?
40 - Name one product you use that everyone ought to use. A car - it's amazing. You can travel long distances in a short time and even be comfortable as you travel!
41 - What's worse - having your period or spraining your ankle? I don't have periods, but I have sprained an ankle or two. Sprained ankles generally last longer than periods, or so I'm told, but they don't return every 28 days. Then again, I'm a guy so the only way I could have a period would be to bleed out my penis, which would be really, really bad. Let's change the subject.
42 - What sport can you play well? I used to play several sports well, but I've lost my edge now and just generally suck at life these days.
43 - What's the funniest thing you've heard/seen/done in the past week? I watched Tosh.O the other night and it was pretty funny. Also, I heard that the guys on Top Gear said some hilarious things about Mexican cars that have them in trouble with the Mexican ambassador over in England.
44 - Are you interested in being friends with someone on death row? We're all on death row. We just don't often think about it that way.
45 - What's 4+3*800/3? Enough
46 - Who would make a better President - Sarah Palin or Cookie Monster? Either one would make a better president than the Elmo doll we have now.
47 - Have you ever done a snow angel in the nude? Not that I can remember, but alcohol has a funny way of erasing such embarrassing memories.
48 - Who's your favorite Golden Girl? I hate them all and wish that show would go away and join all the Adam Sandler movies in hell.
49 - Have you ever taken a dump out a window? Um, no.
50 - Favorite kind of ice cream? Mint Chocolate Chip or Rocky Road, although I don't eat much ice cream anymore.
And now a video that expresses how I feel ...
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with the title February 2011. You can bookmark this page URL http://thebohemianbunny.blogspot.com/2011/02/50-things-no-one-asked-me.html. Thanks!
I've been sick - really, really sick. I spent one solid week thinking I was going to die. Today I'm back at work. I'm still sick. I still feel like I'm going to die. But I'm out of sick leave and shit has to be done. So I'm rocking myself back and forth in my desk chair while typing on the computer. I'm hoping that mindlessly writing down whatever crosses my mind will help me to stop thinking about how sick I feel.
I had an interesting series of conversations recently. It seems that a guy several of my friends and I went to high school with has become single again. He's lonely and broken-hearted and unsure how to be back in the dating world again after so many years of marriage. So, feeling a bit lost, he's drawing from the same old pool he used to - the girls we went to high school with. Or, at least, the ones who are or are about to be single again. They always used to like him in high school. But now this weird female thing is happening. They are shying away. And I, being tactless and prone to speaking things aloud that people usually don't, asked some of the women why.
"He just needs to get laid," said one prospective hottie he had scoped out.
"I'm sorry," I replied. "how is this a problem? I mean, this is what is stopping you from dating him?"
"Yeah, he needs to get laid. Like NOW."
"So you want him to go get laid - by someone else - and THEN come and ask you out?"
"Yeah, basically."
Do you see how confusing this is? Here is a good-looking single woman who once told me she could use some decent sex soon herself since she's been divorced a few years now, but she doesn't want to go out with this guy until he first goes and gets laid somewhere and gets that out of his system. Whaaat??
I guess that myth about desperate guys emitting some sort of stink of desperation is true. He must reek of it or something. Either that or he's staring at her boobs. I don't know which. I've glanced at her boobs a time or two and to be fair, they are impressive. I suppose if he's drowning in the pool of no-sex then her boobs must be a giant eye-magnet to him and he's probably staring way too much and getting caught. And also there's that goofy smile, the one I know I have myself, which men get when they are feeling totally blown away by a woman and they get all "huh huh, gosh oh gee." I think I've seen him with that smile on his face. One of my female friends named it the "boob face." Apparently women aren't impressed by a guy flashing that "boob smile" at them and being all goofy. This, too, I know from my own personal experience of failure. I get that smile a lot, and boobs don't have to be involved at all. Anything that makes me feel intimidated can set off that stupid grin and then it's man the lifeboats and reach for your pepper spray 'cause you'd think I just dropped my pants and whipped it out or something. It's the most powerful woman-repeller I know of short of shouting "women should be in the kitchen baking pie and making babies." In fact, in some circles its even more powerful than that, because some women actually like being in the kitchen and raising babies. But no woman likes that goofy-assed grin, or so it seems. And he's got it all over his face every time I see him.
Anyway, apparently this friend he was interested in has started dating someone now so he's out of luck for the time being. Maybe he could take this opportunity to rush out real quick and get laid, pay for it, and come back all cool and calm in time for her to be available again if things should fail to work out with her new guy.
This oddity of women not wanting to have sex with a guy unless he doesn't really need to have sex makes me think the idea of outlawing prostitution is dumb. Guys who really NEED it aren't going to get it until they already HAD it, so they aren't EVER going to get it unless they can either A) find a drunk girl B) find a desperate girl or C) buy it from a girl willing to sell it. In most states A is illegal, too, so that only leaves B and for some guys and in some cities there just aren't enough desperate girls to go around. So that leaves many guys stuck without any hope, and that leads to violent crimes and acts of terrorism. Because you know none of those Muslim terrorists are getting any, not with those faces and their "kill the infidels" personalities. Not unless they pay for it. OK, jump ahead a few days and I've been to the doctor, got medicines, and am not nearly as close to death's door as I was. Yay.
I had another conversation with one of the women who said that guy needs to get laid before asking her out. Back in college I had a small crush on her and tried to get a date with her. It was like talking to smoke. She would stand there looking right through me and never seem to register that I was even there. Date? What? Were you talking? Are you still here?
Fast forward these many years and she's around again, still looking very much the same. She's got those blue-green eyes and strong cheekbones that the women who descended from Vikings and Norwegian bikini models have. She's got the perfect white teeth and v-shaped face. She's got the long, thick, flowing hair. She's got the bikini model body. She actually used to be a model. And everybody wants her. Still. But now she's divorced and looking to date. I'm married so I'm one of her random guy friends who doesn't hit on her.
Today was when she opened up a little for the first time and told me about not looking twice at a guy who doesn't have ripped abs. And I couldn't help but look down at my own 'abs.' I don't have anything you'd call abs really. There's no trace of anything even remotely resembling proper abs. Not unless I flex really hard. And that bothers me. Especially after working with a damn trainer for a year and a half. That useless fucker.
Not two hours after my conversation with the Norwegian bikini model, I ended up somehow in a conversation with an ex-girlfriend from back in The Day. She very matter-of-factly told me that all her friends in school thought I was super hot, but she never let them near me, never let me know. She laughed and said I was pretty dumb. I never seemed to realize. Yeah, I guess she's right. How dumb was I? I thought I was a super loser and was deeply depressed most of the time, putting up with unbelievable shit from her when I could have dumped her and dated someone else. It would have sure helped if just once someone had let on that they thought I was something worthwhile instead of just a loser.
Those days are long gone now. Now I'm the invisible man, the friend with no abs. I'm Mister Needs Improvement, Mister Inadequate. And I need a vacation from my life.
Speaking of losers:
And in case that upset you, let me give you some music to calm your stomach:
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desperation /
inadequate /
sex
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