I know it's immature, but...

While on facebook I searched out the name "tits" and came upon a man whose name is Willy Tits.


Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha




holy shit


hahahahahahahahahahaha

Tickets and Footsteps

Ran a stop sign on my way home from work. Kind of pissed myself off. When I got home I found out that my son took his first steps today. I fucking missed it. Damn it. I never should have gone to work today. Would have seen my baby walk for the first time and I would have avoided a ticket.

She may have meant "influence" now that I think about it.

Tonight, while talking about the more domesticated nature of my friend Tom, my wife said to me; "maybe you should let Tom rub off on you." I have to admit it, I freaked out. "That's disgusting! Has he approached you about this? Do...es he find me attractive?" Sorry honey, but I'm not the kind of person that just lets guys rub off on him. Gross.

beer review

Hazy pail golden color, the kind that scary mosters crawl out of before attacking an entire town for its own nefarious purposes. Little bit of white head that clings desperately at the edge of the glass.

Banana and grapefruit, yeast and grain hit the nose as if two specific fruits and... some grain and yeast.

Quite acidic and sharp, like a cheddar lined with razors. A vague underlying dryness and the lingering taste of sweet decay remind me of the last hooker I had in my trunk... kind of a funny story really; I was so drunk that I had lost count and after I buried the two in the backseat and I ended up forgetting the one I left tied up in the trunk.

Anyway, everyonce in a while when I hear a knocking sound that I had THOUGHT was the engine. Haha, turns out there was a third hooker back there, but I didn't realize it at the time.

I didn't really have money to pay for anything to get fixed so I just kept on driving. Eventually everything quieted down and I forgot all about it.

So one day I have some groceries that a bagboy brings out to my car and when open the trunk: BAM! There's the dead hooker. Terrible wafting scent comes up and blasts us in the face, the bagboy is throwing up on the ground and I am just laughing my ass off.

I hit him on the head and threw him in next to the corpse in the short skirt and buried them both in the desert.

That was a close one.

Anyway...

Yeah...

But this decay smell in the beer was more the yeasty smell than that of corpses. Hope it didn't come across like that.

Great beer, the tastes improve and become more pronounces as the bottle warms up... Wheats are lovely at room temperature.

I'd definately bring this funky little wheat places with me. Solid wheat.


(Troegs: Dream Waver Wheat)

Upcoming Event

I turn 30 on the 27th of this month. I'm not feeling like 30 is very old. I know everyone says "I don't feel 30!", but I guess I do.. I just don't feel like it's old.

We'll see. Maybe I'll have a nervous breakdown or something. I'll keep you posted.

On drinking.

It is possible to drink often and get drunk rarely.

Just thought I'd point that out because a lot of people tend to assume that anyone who drinks regularly is a raging alcoholic.

One or two beers a night will not get you drunk, probably won't even get you buzzed (unless you drink them really fast). I happen to drink, on average, 1 beer a night. Sometimes I don't drink anything, sometimes I drink one, sometimes I drink two, every great once in a while I'll have 3. But that's usually the full extent of it.

So do I drink? Yes. Do I get drunk? Rarely.

Just pointing that out for those who tend to make assumptions.

Writing Again

A little bit anyway. I've been on a pretty long dry spell, but I'm finally writing in some stories again. Off and on. Not with the ferver that I have in the past, but progress is progress.

Blog Adultry

I've been updating somewhere else.

I know, I know; we've been together for so long. But I've been doing it.

It's not the magic is gone, I just saw some magic elsewhere. It twinkles, it shines, it catches my eye. Don't worry, I don't want to leave you. I just... I just need a little bit of this on the side.

It doesn't take up nearly as much time. I don't have to think as much, is all. It's easier.

It's name?

Come on, you don't really want to know that. What good will it do if you know it's name?

Okay, okay. No need to shout.

It's name is Twitter.

And you should follow me there. @donteatpoop

(I'm sorry)

Why Bananas are Cool

Bananas are cool because they are yellow. There are no other fruits that are yellow and as cool as a banana.

Monkeys like bananas. You like monkeys, don't you?

Bananas are also packed with vitamins and shit. By "shit" I mean "additional things that are good for you", not "shit". That would not have been a good selling point.

Plus they are shaped like dicks. So when a babe eats a banana, you can kind of pretend like it's a dick. But you have to kind of ignore it when they bite chuncks out of it.

When friends who are male have bananas you get to harrass them for having one. You get to make dick jokes and ask him why he packed his dildo for lunch or if he's testing his gag reflex or if he plans on eating that. And then he can run away and cry and think of a really good comeback but not think of it until much later in the night when he is at home and posts it on the internet.

If you are a guy and you bring a banana to work for lunch, a good cover would be to offer it to a female coworker in a suggestive mannor. "Would you like my banana?" wink-wink. nudge-nudge.

Wish I'd thought of that sooner.

*sniffle*

BBQ

I like barbecue sauce.

Beer

An uncle of mine once told me "you know why beer goes through you so fast?"

"Why?" I asked.

"Because it doesn't have to change color on the way out!"

Then he laughed for a while.

When he was done laughing I pointed out that we were both drinking Guiness, and that either he had mistaken his dick for his asshole or there was something seriously wrong with his urinary track.

For Those Who Celebrate

Enjoy your day.





It's what killed the dinosaurs, you know.

Troegs Nugget Nectar

Had some of this on tap last night. It was soooooo good. The hops were very present, giving off a citrus-like taste. It went down so smoothe, it was refreshing to drink after all of the porters and stouts and dunkels I've been drinking lately.

My wife even liked it, and she claims to have disdain for hops. She pointed out the flavors she liked, and what she described was the hops. So I enlightened her. I ended up grabbing some IPAs for her to try, since she apparently doesn't hate hops as much as she thought she did.

The barmaid there described the ale to another patron as "hoppy and bitter," the guy steered clear of it for that reason. What a shit-barmaid.

It's an amber color, citrusy hops and a light bitterness. That's what I would have said. Bet he would have grabbed it if he'd heard that.

Happy Easter

Jesus is alive.

Happy 'you're not dead anymore' day, Jesus.

Another one bites the dust

Found another dead hooker in my trunk.

I'm thinking about drilling some air holes so that this doesn't keep happening.

NOTE: The air holes will be drilled into the trunk, not the hooker.

I Have Achieved Lift Off

As the shift came to a close at work and people began to leave, I realised that it would be a matter of time before I could let out the gigantic fart that had been building up inside of me for the last several hours. When the last person walked out the door, I let it go.

It moved me forward like an inch on the chair.

This has never happened to me before. I've dropped some serious bombs, but nothing has ever literally moved me.

I'm hoping to find a way to turn this into an alternate fuel source.

Stump the DJ

Since it's April 1st, I thought I'd revisit a prank I pulled a year ago on some friends. (this was posted once before as part of another post) For the sake of anonymity we'll call them Dude and Chick. This prank was not pre-concieved, but if I ever get the chance to try it on some new people who haven't heard me tell the story then it most certainly will be.



After a semi-stressful night of work two of the other supervisors and myself decided to head out to a local bar for drinks. (the supervisors are the aformentioned Dude and Chick) There was a DJ there that night and he said over the mic that he was taking requests and if anyone had any to just come up and tell him what we wanted to hear.

That’s when I proposed a bar-game. I don’t know if this is a game other people play, but it’s called Stump the DJ.

“How do you play Stump the DJ?” Chick asked.

“It’s easy,” I told her. “We make up a band and request to hear it a song from them.”

So we started brainstorming for band names. It had to sound like a real band and we threw several ideas out on the table; Black Sunday had a good run, then I suggested Silver Jews (someone I was certain they had never heard of). They thought Silver Jews sounded horrible, not like a real band at all. (for those who don't know, the Silver Jews were a real band, a member or two went on to form Pavment... Another band that a lot of people haven't heard of... google it). I was trying to get a feel for their musical expertise, especially because Dude graduated from college with a bachelers in something music related. I was pleased that they hadn't heard of them.

Next I suggested Queen Franklin and we toyed with this one for a while before I suggested Soul Coughing, a band that was not unheard of but not common. I watched them for recognition and saw (thankfully) that they had never heard of Soul Coughing.

“That’s what I’m going to request then,” I said, getting up from my stool.

"I don't know, that's not really a good name," Dude said.

"Yeah, you said it's supposed to sound like a real band," Chick said.

“Well I'm going with it, I don't care... I think it's a great band name. And I'll ask for the song..." I acted like I was pulling this song title out of thin air, when in fact it was one of their few 'hits'... "Super Bon-Bon.”

Then I walked away from them, went up to the DJ and requested it. The DJ hadn’t heard any requests for Soul Coughing in a long while, but he did have the song.

I returned to the bar and Dude and Chick were excited to hear how it went.

“I walked up to him and asked for Soul Coughing's Super Bon-Bon," I said, trying to look disappointed, "but he didn't really pay me any attention. He just put a thumb up. So then I asked him if he had it and he kind of rolled his eyes and said no." I sighed here. "He didn't even bother looking."

They were pretty bummed.

"Big build up, no pay off," I said. Dude and Chick nodded in agreement.

Then, two or three songs later, the DJ announced that the next song was from a band called Soul Coughing with the song was ‘Super Bob-Bon’. The bass started pumping and the looks on their faces... Their jaws just dropped. It was all I could do not to laugh, I dropped my jaw as well trying to look as astonished and dumbfounded as they were. "No way," I said.

It only lasted a few seconds, but it was glorious. It was also great to watch the reralization hit as Dude looked at me and said "Fuck you, Poop." Then chick slapped my arm and called me an asshole.

Long set-up, but everytime I think back on the looks on their faces... Holy shit was that a solid pay-off.

My little girl

She's getting big. She turns six next week. I know that doesn't seem that old, but I already miss the cute little-girl things she used to say and do.

She used to have a lisp, couldn't pronounce the letter s when it was followed by another consonant. So the word "lisp" for instance, would have been pronounced "lip". She used to talk to us about the tars in the ky, the people walking down the treet, bee tings, tiger tripes, and melling flowers. I won't even bring up the times she wanted to play with her scooter. (hilarious)

When we startled her she'd say "You cared me out of my crap!"


She used to carry around her little kitty blanket and suck her thumb...

I miss that. I wish I hadn't had to work so much and miss out on so much.

Walking Cool

You know how sometimes you're walking with a really cool swagger? You know, just struttin'... But then you bump into something, trip or stumble? And there's that moment when you aren't sure what you should do next?

I think it's important to keep moving with the cool walk. That way anyone who turned their head at that moment and didn't see how lame you are... They would still think you're cool.

And the other people would think "Man, that's the coolest clumsy person I've ever seen."

Booger under Keys (no lock)

Just lost a booger to the keyboard. I saw it fall from my finger and attempted to rescue it, but it slipped under the 'f' key. It's a gonner now.

No time anymore

I keep wanting to write in this novel that I started forever ago. (of stones and stars). I've worked out a few changes that need to be made which will help me progress the story nicely and open a few sub plots... But i just can't seem to find the time to work on it.

Right now, for instance, i'm writing this instead because I only have twenty minutes or so before I should be in bed so that i can function at work tomorrow. Between work and family my writing has been on serious hold.

I need to get into it though, I need to get back to chasing my dream. I frustrate myself with my procrastination and my inability to follow through. Dammit.

Alright, enough venting. Off to bed with me.

New Troll

Got one for real this time.

I've decided to stop publishing Quixnote-Grey's comments as he is stuck on one topic and will not move from it. He continues to attempt to antagonize and act like a bitch and I've decided that I'm uninterested in putting up with it anymore.

I've asked him to stop with his shit, and he responded with the usual; bitching about censorship and threatening to never return... As though that were a punishment of sorts.

Begone, asshole. Go find yourself a new bridge to hide under. You have shown your true colors.

Word of advice, at least learn to admit when you are being a troll. You'll find a lot more freedom in your life when you learn to admit who you are to yourself.

I will also reiterate and reword the moral of one of my previous posts as it is clearly applicable to this cock-gobbler: The freedom of speach does not mean you get to just be an asshole all the time.

Stephen King made me crap my pants

Before you make assumptions, I wasn't frightened at all; but this evil heartless bastard still made me shit my pants.

Here's how it happened.

I was messing with the computer when I was suddenly hit with an urgent need to go to the bathroom and drop a duece. So, naturally; I went downstairs to the basement toilet, planning on reading a book which I had left down there earlier. It was one of King's books, a part of the Gunslinger series.

But the book wasn't there. I pinched my cheeks together, holding back the emmenant anal explosion that was begging to be set free. I desperately looked around for the book, but it was nowhere in sight. I had done a little laundry earlier, so I made my way over towards the washing machine in the hopes of finding the book.

And that's when it happened. The ass cannon had fired.

I gave up looking for the book and took care of business, cleaning my underwear and showering afterward. First time I have ever shit my pants. Fucking Stephen King.

And get this, after everything was over; the book appears as if by magic not far from the toilet.

You owe me a new pair of underwear, King.

Random Tough Guy Character

A line for a future tough-guy character. Comedy. No plot yet.

MobsterOrSomeshit: If you don't pay up, I'll sick ToughGuy on you.

ToughGuy: I punch elephants.

Protagonist: You punch elephants?

ToughGuy: ...

-silence-

ToughGuy: Yeah.

Protagonist: Woh. That's pretty badass.

ToughGuy: I know-

MobsterOrSomeshit: Forget about the elephants. I want my fucking money Friday.

FIT

We have the Wii Fit now at our house. So now when I play video games I can get some excercise in.

I'm trying to counter this by drinking heavy beers and eating while I play.

6 9 6

Sometimes I kill people

Usually they piss me off first

Other times just because

Why does this keep happening to me?!?!?

I swear there's some sort of conspiracy out there to keep me from ever being at peace.

I went out for lunch today, left the office and ran to grab a few burgers from the local burger grill. I don't go out every day for lunch, in fact it's pretty rare; which is why this is so baffling... How did they know?

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I went outside, got in my car and drove. It's not a short drive, but not a long one either. It might have taken me ten minutes at the most.

Anyway, I got out of the car and ran inside, ordered my burgers and waited for them to be cooked. When they were done, I went back out to the car. No time to eat them there, I had to get back to work.

So I get back in my car and I spot a flash of metal out of the corner of my eye. I ducked just in time for a shuriken to embed itself into my dash. Fucking ninjas!

I turned around to find two of the bastards in my SUV. One of them had just drawn a katana, I guess he wasn't used to fighting inside of a vehicle though because he had no manuverability. He tried to take a swipe at me, but the blade got caught in the cieling, fucking ripped a big gash in my cieling! I'm thinking about suing.

Anyway, it was easy to dodge such a clumsy attack. I started the car and pressed the cigarette lighter in while he made another swipe at me with his blade, this time it ran into a window so no worries there. One of the ones in the back-back threw another star at me, thankfully the clumsy jackass with the katana was moving around at that moment and the shuriken landed in the back of his head. He must have been new to the job or something.

At about the same time that I heard the sick 'thump' of the throwing star hitting his skull the lighter popped out and I grabbed it. I dove over the front seat, stretching towards the back; his projectile weaponry was no match for close quarter combat. I plunged the lighter into the guy's eye, his eye jelly sizzled and popped. First time I ever smelled a burning human eye, that's for sure. I can't help thinking that a little lemon pepper would be a perfect touch to make a meal out of it.

While he's freaking out over his eye-burn I take one of the razor sharp throwing stars from his belt and cut open his throat.

After a couple moments of breathing I got out, opened the doors, and threw the bodies out of the car. Thankfully there wasn't a lot of blood. It was a pain in the ass to get blood stains out.

The car was pretty much warmed up at this point, so I put it in reverse and started driving back to work; biting into my burger on the way.

Seriously, could the Kenjin Clan please stop sending assassins after me? I'm sorry I ran one of your elders over, but he shouldn't have been crossing the street in the middle of the night without looking both ways. I can't be held responsible for not seeing him, you people dress all in black! Get some reflective wear or something.

Please, leave me alone.

Analogy Time

There's a big ongoing party that everyone is invited to. Everyone. People come, people go; some linger around longer than others.

The music is bumping, the drinks are cold and intoxicating, the food is delicious, and the people seem to get along nicely for the most part.

One day this dude walks in, a new guy; first time he'd decided to take advantage of the open invite. He drinks the beer, eats the food, converses a little here and there; and then he decides that he isn't digging much on the party.

Now, instead of just leaving like most polite people would do, he shuts off the music for a moment and gets on the microphone.

"Hi everyone, I know I've only been here for a few minutes but I just wanted to bring a few things to your attention. First, this music sucks. I mean seriously, it's terrible. Secondly this beer is like piss in a bottle. The food was absolutely wretched, and to be perfectly frank you people bore and annoy the hell out of me."

Surprisingly the many many people at the party were not pleased with this announcement. As one they told the new guy to get the hell out of the place, kicking him out the door from whence he came.

Once he left, the party resumed.

But the guy was actually offended by this. How dare they tell him to leave! He was only expressing himself, only offering them an objective veiwpoint! This simply would not do!

He went around town telling a few people here and there about the terrible experience he had at the party. Some people listened to him and took his words to heart, most just ignored him. But that didn't stop him from trying to spread negativity about the party.

It is said that the guy still resents the party and party goers.

Despite his efforts, the party went on uninterrupted. That party still goes on today. The moon still revolves around the Earth, and the Earth still spins around the sun.


Moral: Freedom of speech does not entitle you to be an asshole.

Troll Milestone Revoked

Just when I thought my blog had just hit a major milestone, it turns out that I didn't really earn the troll after all. I thought a troll had found me and decided to hate on me. I was hoping he/she would come back and troll me some more. I do so love those antagonistic little bastards.

But alas, if you read the comments of the previous post, you will find that it wasn't earned. Just someone blowing off some steam to a friend, and the friend coming over to try and humiliate me.

Damn it! Thanks for ruining my hopes and dreams, Q-Grey!!!! You couldn't have just left it alone and allowed me to enjoy this achievment could you?!?

Ignorance was blissful, however shortly lived it may have been.

Being as much of an asshole as I am, I really thought I'd have a small colony of trolls camped up over here. Oh well. Perhaps one day I will have a troll of my very own. There's always hope, I suppose.

I think I've earned a troll...

This is so fucking exciting, everyone. It really proves that I'm making my mark on the net. And not just a shit-stain mark on the fish-net underoos this time! If you check the comment section of the previous post you will see what I am talking about.

I like to think I have somehow earned this troll rather than him just happening upon my blog by chance.

But then again, self depreciating comments occur quite often in this blog so I suppose this is really a compliment and not trollish behavior at all.

A compliment so important that it had to be typed three times. It's like a triumverant of compliments. "BORING!" he says. A blog so boring that he attempts to post his comment not once, not twice, but THREE times (before the moron realized that his comments needed to await approval).

I love the interwebs. But I love the idiots who get on the interwebs even more.

Troll on, you crazy diamond. I look forward to your return.

So much snow

It's been snowing like crazy lately.

I stepped into a snow drift earlier and felt a cold sensation on my balls.

Check Mate

I bet its hard for Australians to play chess.

"Check Mate"

Wait... Did he say "Check, mate" or "Check Mate"?

This is so confusing. Hey! That dingo just stole my baby!

I thought it was only going to be a fart

My butt had a message for me. It said, "I'm going to fart." So I leaned to the side and let one rip. What my butt didn't tell me was that the fart was loaded.

I was in a small office at work, thankfully one without witnesses, so I made my way down the long hall way to the back restroom that no one used and let the rest of it out.

But there was no toilet paper.

You would think paper towels would be more efficient at removing poop due to their texture, but they're not.

Penmanship

Last night when I got home I had to pee so bad that I couldn't wait until I got inside. So I started peeing in the snow, and naturally my instinct was to write my name.

It was perhaps the most pristine example of penis penmanship the world has ever seen. That shit was so perfect it could have been a font in Word. Not one of those fonts that you have to download, but one that comes standard with the software.

Anyone who has attempted to write their names in the snow with their urine can attest to how difficult it is just to be legible. Well, my name wasn't just legible, it was beautiful. If I'm ever famous, I want to sign autographs like that.

Attention terrorists and suicide bombers.

Nothing will dishearten America more than striking the Westboro Baptist Church congregation. I do not believe that the US could ever recover from such a devestating blow to out national heritage.

Sincerley,

The Infedels

Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

My parents got a Wii recently. I'm stopping by their house way more often now. We tried explaining the awesomeness of the Wii to my Grandmother, who is near 85; and she kept thinking we were saying "weed". Which was really funny because she revealed this after I told my wife we needed to buy weed. lol.

In search of a beer store

I was away on business this weekend and checked on beeradvocate.com for some good local beer stops. I found a grocer (ACME) listed that supposedly had good a selection, it also had the same name as the company that sells all the stuff that Wile E Coyote orders, so I decided to go.

I left the hotel and drove the ten minutes or so in search of the place, realizing after the first two minutes that I had to pee. By the time I got there it became apparent that I had to pee really really bad.

Given my bladder I decided that I would hit up the restroom first and relieve myself. But I couldn't find it. I had to try and avoid pinching it off by hand and just did my best with mind-over-matter; but there were a few times I grabbed my junk and held it for a bit. I tried to time it for when no one was around to see, but the last time some woman saw me and got this disturbed look on her face like she thought as about to whip it out and smack her in the face with it.

So I mumbled "I have to pee" and moved past her. Everytime I saw an employee they were super busy and couldn't help me, but eventually I found two women seated at a table in the candy section (which isn't far from the beer section). They were like "Hi, are you here for your flew shot?" and I said "No, I'm here because I have to pee and I can't find the bathroom and some lady saw me touch my penis and thought I was a pervert but I was only grabbing it so that I didn't pee all over everybody."

Then they said "the restrooms are right over there," and pointed at an area that was less than ten feet away. So I went peed. I gotta tell you, it was one of the most magical times in my life. The unrine just kept pouring out, tears welled up in my eyes... I must have stood there for five minutes letting the piss flow.

When I was done, I shook three times, washed my hands, and walked over to the beer section.'

Then I found the beer. They really did have a good selection, a lot of micro brews were available. The wine selection was pretty awesome too, divided by country and vintage. I was really pleased, and if I'm ever in the area again I'll go back. (but I'll be peeing before I leave)

./

Sometimes when I go to hit the period button at the end of a sentence I also hit the back-slash button. I don't know if that changes the punctuation or not, but sometimes I wonder if I'm not somehow offending someone from a different culture in which "./" means something really vulgar, mean, and nasty. If that is the case, I'd like to take this opportunity to say "fuck you you filthy bastard./"

Oh that's right, I have a blog.

Sorry about that, I totally forgot about this thing.

We have a little baby boy living with us now. He's cute as hell but he wakes us up a lot and I don't get the sleep that I used to. So that's my excuse.

Anyway, I'm gonna try and update this thing at least once a week.

Even if it's a really lame update with no real entertainment value such as this one.

I just washed that thing!

What the hell?

I scrubbed myself down in the shower, made sure all of my parts were clean (especially the areas known to develope stink), and the moment I dry off my gut tells me it needs to let some shit out.

Now my freshly cleansed brown eye will spew forth a most vile filth.

And not having had time to dry properly, the toilet paper is just going to get flimsy and rip real easy. I'll have to take care.

Then I can flush and wait for it to fill back up before restarting the shower. Hopefully this time I won't have to shit again when I step out.

Trolls

Why do I let the get to me? Why don't I just ignore them?

I don't really know the answers to those quesions. Maybe it's because I feel like someone should be doing something about them. Maybe it's because others vent to me about them and I feel that I should take a stand on their behalf. Maybe because I have a dark part of me that actually enjoys striking back at them using their own tactics.

I think it's a combination of all three of these things. I get complaints from my fellow users, I do feel that someone should do something, and I do enjoy enraging the enrager. I guess that giving someone a taste of their own medicine brings me some strange sense of peace that borders on rage.

It's a shame that they never seem to realize that what is so enraging them is exactly what they have been doing to everyone else.

The Dog

I'm going to skip past the typical "Sorry it's been so long since I've posted" bullshit. It's been a while since I've posted. Whatever, that much was obvious.

Anyway, today at about 4:00pm we hear this sound from outside that sounds like a dog might be hurt. It was the irritatingly loud beagle bark, but it also sounded like it might be in pain or something. So I got my shoes on and stepped outside and there was a beagle sniffing around in circles on the ground, stopping now and then to bark. It wasn't hurt, just scared.

It didn't run away from me, but it didn't come to me either, just continued sniffing as though I wasn't even there. It was kind of pathetic really, running in circles with its nose to the ground, bark/whining.

Anyway, I finally got him and put a leash on him and called his house. His name was shadow. People came to get him and took him home.

Turns out the stupid fucking dog only walked a street over. One street over and it goes batshit stupid crazy. What a dumb fucking dog. One street. Sniffing in circles.

How much do you know about...

Worms fuck. It’s true. I found out in probably one of the worst places I could have.

I had just gotten home from work and had to take a shit in the worst way possible. So I went to bathroom to drop a serious deuce only to find that the book I had been reading was no longer in the house. My wife apparently cleaned the bathroom and put my book somewhere. I didn’t have time to look for it, shit was about to go down quite literally. So I ran to the kids bookshelf and scanned the titles and grabbed one of those “What do you know about…” titles.

I ran back to the toilet, dropped my pants, sat down and opened the book. “What do you know about… WORMS.” Great. I sometimes get the unreasonable paranoia that something is going to come up out of the toilet and crawl up my ass… So why not worms?

Oh well, I pushed on and started reading. There was an index and I skipped right into the “Mating” chapter. I was like… “They have sex?” I don’t know… I know they reproduced, and when I was a kid I thought you just ripped them into pieces and that was how they reproduced; but I’m not so deluded anymore to believe that to be true.

How did I think they reproduced? I don’t know. To be honest, worm sex is not one of the topics that has ever entered my mind before cracking that book out. I don’t know if it just never occurred to me or if I subconsciously pushed any such thoughts from my mind.

But last night I found myself staring at the pages and discovering that worms fuck… All while trying to ignore the terrifying rising thoughts of a worm coming up out of the toilet and crawling up my ass.

Yep. Worms fuck. Did you ever see two worms laying on the ground touching? That’s them fucking. That’s how they do it. They just get up next to each other and go at it. And get this, both worms involved get pregnant. Both worms have worm eggs, and both worms have worm sperm.

I’ve also discovered that I really enjoy the term: worm sperm. I also just discovered, upon writing the last sentence, that saying “the term worm sperm” is even more entertaining. I’m now trying to think about other words that I could fit into that, like “firm” or “germ”, but none of it makes sense. Wait… The firm worm sperm has germs…. That was fun.

Okay, so they have sex, right? And then this film travels up and down the length of their bodies and falls off to become an egg sack, wherein hundreds of baby worms will hatch. At that point I decided that hundreds of baby worms are creepy. It’s one of the creepiest things I can think of. Spiders, cockroaches, centipedes, ticks… Yeah, they’re kind of creepy; but hundreds of tiny little baby worms? Fuck.

What if they all started crawling up my ass? That would be seriously fucking scary.

You say Goodbye and I say Hello

“Samantha;” came his voice, whispering to me in the night and rousing me from my dreams.

I sat up to see him standing at the foot of my bed and met his eyes. The moonlight spilling in from the window gave him a strangely beautiful glow.

“Hello darling,” he said with a sad smile on his face.

“How did you get in here?” I asked. I was certain that I’d locked the door.

“I love you,” he told me.

“I love you too,” I said. Something about his smile and the way he was speaking told me that something was wrong. “What is it, Pete?”

“I came here to say goodbye. We have to stop seeing each other,” he said.

His words seemed to echo off of the walls as a cold quiet filled the room.

“I don’t understand,” I said, trying not to let the mounting sorrow overtake me.

“It’s not you, Samantha; you’ve been wonderful. It’s me.”

“Oh spare me the generic break-up bullshit, Pete,” I snapped at him.

He closed his eyes a moment, appearing to fight back tears of his own.

“What is it?” I asked again. “I don’t understand. Is there someone else?”

“No, there’s no one else,” he told me.

“Then what is it?!”

“I’m such an idiot sometimes. Oh God, how could I be such a fool!” His voice was thick with grief. “Sam, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I did something very stupid.”

“What, Pete? What did you do? Whatever it is, we can work through it…”

“No we can’t, babe; we can’t work through this one. There’s just no way.”

“Would you just tell me already?”

“Alright,” he said; taking in a deep breath. “Tonight was Ryan’s bachelor party. We went to a couple of bars. I don’t know how much I drank, I lost count at some point. I shouldn’t have been driving…”

“Did you hit someone?”

“No,” he told me. “No, I didn’t hit anyone.” There was a short pause before he continued. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Something jumped out in front of me,” he said. “I don’t know what it was, a deer or a dog… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I swerved to avoid whatever it was and ran off the road into a cluster of trees. I wrapped the car around a tree… You know, I thought it would hurt more than it did…”

“So… What? They got you for a DUI?” I asked. “How did you get away?”

“I didn’t, Sam. I didn’t get away,” He told me; the tears now running unchecked down his cheeks. “I just wanted to see you one last time before…”

“Before what?” I asked. I knew the answer, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He said, drifting backwards and away from me.

“Where are you going?” I asked, panic and sorrow feeding on one another. “Don’t leave me, Pete.”

“My sister should be calling you soon, Sam.”

“Don’t you leave me!” My panic and sorrow turned quickly to rage. “Don’t you dare leave me Pete, you son of a bitch! Come back here!!”

“I love you,” he said calmly.

“I need you!” I shouted.

The ringing of the phone from my nightstand awoke me. I opened my eyes to see the ceiling above highlighted with dim moonlight. My cheeks were still wet with tears; my body still digesting the intense emotions of the dream. Panic and terror and sorrow were mixing together inside of me like a cocktail of hysteria.

The phone rang again. I stared at it coldly, trying to will it to silence.

But it rang again.

Slowly, with a hand that would not be still; I reached for it.

“Hello?”

A handy man I am not.

I've never been very good or interested in handy work, and as a result I have no idea what the hell I am doing. This makes trips to the hardware store a bit of a chore, but I can do it on my own... It'll take me a while, but I'll eventually figure it out and take care of it.

What's worse than going on my own is going with my wife. My wife is a handywoman. She loves doing shit around the house and she's good at it. It's really embarassing to follow her around the store, especially when the other guys give me the "look." You know what I'm talking about, the 'what kind of man are you?' look. It sucks.

Maybe you're thinking "well then, you better start learning how to do shit around the house so that you don't have to be embarassed." But there is a flaw in that logic. As I stated previously; I have never been good or interested in handy work. And my wife enjoys it, so why ruin a good thing?

Instead I have developed a plan. Any time my wife and I both go to the hardware store, I will walk behind her and act like I'm retarded. Hands straight down at my sides, taking tons of short steps instead of normal ones, my face looking straight at the ground the whole while... I get less looks this way.

I mean, when you're just a guy who has a wife who knows a bunch of shit about hardware and repairs and shit, you get a bunch of looks from guys like you don't have a pair of nuts between your legs.

But when you're retarded they just smile politely or avert their gazes.

I've already put the plan into play once and had great results. I intend on implementing this strategy with each visit to the hardware store. Hopefully I won't run into anyone I know.

Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.

Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.
Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.
Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.
Herpes on my scrotum
Herpe power

They're the worlds most common STD
Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.
They're herpes on my nuntsack and they're mean
Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.
When an evil outbreak attacks
These fucking herpes don't cut me no slack

Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.
Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.
Your mother gave me these itchy, bumpy things
Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.
All the itching leads, it's just part of the disease
Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.

I hope this puts you in the mood
Cause I'm gonna fuck you up the ass real soon.
Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.
Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.
Psycho Rabid Mutant Herpes.

Would you like some herpes?
Suck my balls.

Monkey Business

I have an idea for a new reality TV show. It's called Monkey Business. And basically it's a hidden camera show where monkeys enter the workforce.

For instance. A man hires a construction company to build a deck on the back of his house and a crew of monkeys shows up with hardhats and toolbelts and stuff. Imagine the look on the man's face when a crew of monkeys show up to do his deck.

Or a couple goes out to a restaurant and a monkey (dressed in a waiter uniform, white button up shirt, black pants, carries a notepad, etc) shows up to take their order, AND brings them out their food!

Or a man gets into the back of a cab and tells the cabbie where to take him. Just before the taxi starts moving, the driver (a monkey) turns around and gives him a big old chimpanzee smile.



And when PETA protests, we could send out our official spokesperson; and it could be a chimpanzee dressed in a suit and tie. He could stand at a little podium with a mic on it and address the crowd.

Animal planet could totally pick this show up.

Wouldn't this be the best show ever? Don't deny it, you know it would.

Why won't the robots stop calling?

I don't mind telemarketers. I'd be hypocritical if I thought otherwise, as I work in a call center.

But at the very least have a human call me. Don't send me a fucking pre-recorded message. Does that even work? Ever? I can't imagine you see a lot of success with machines calling people.

I have to pull my jimmy out of the glory hole in an effort to answer the phone in case it's some sort of emergency; only to find out that someone recorded a message to play to me upon answering. Do you realise how rare it is that I am able to convince my wife make the beast with two backs with me?!? I can't be wasting precious time like that by answering the fucking phone and NOT EVEN BEING ABLE TO SAY "Hey, I can't talk right now because I'm having sex."

That's the best part about telemarketers, by the way; bragging to complete strangers.
But all of that is lost on a fucking machine that is playing a fucking pre-re-fucking-corded message!

Maybe I would appreciate the pre-recorded messages more if I was lonlier. But I'm not quite that lonely.

Wait... Are these calls coming from the same people as the automated commenters that I have blocked with the "type these letters" system? Are you that desperate to get in touch with me? I miss you too, guys. I miss your complements on the design of my blog and your random links to porn. Perhaps you could work the porn thing into your messages that you call me with? I think that would be great. Hope to talk to you soon!

A page from Ducky Park

While you are disappointed that you can't run one of the roller coasters, you have to admit that it is pretty cool to run one of the rides, even if it is only a choice between bumper cars and the thing with the horses.

"I guess I'll do the thing where the horses go around in the circles," You tell him, doing your best not to sound too disappointed about the roller coaster thing.

"It's called a carousel, boy," He informs you.

"Right," you say; "The Carousel."

He nods approvingly. "That's where I started. Maybe you can work your way up through the ranks and be like me."

"I hope not," You say aloud, purely on accident. You immediately regret saying it and your face flushes red with embarrassment.

Thankfully Jake seems good humored; he laughs about it and slaps you on the shoulder. "You're a funny guy," He says, leaning on too close to say it, the liquor on his breath combined with the fumes from his poor oral hygiene nearly make you gag.

"Oh man," You say, "Could you not lean in so close when you’re talking to me?!"

"Sorry about that," He says to you, with a good humored smile on his dirty face. "My breath ain't the freshest, I know it."

"You're not kidding either, man. What the fuck do you do? Gargle with diarrhea? Damn!"

He laughs a little more and tells you how to get to the carousel. He tells you to send who ever is working there to him to be reassigned after he trains you for an hour or so.

You thank him and walk off in the direction he indicated. You're not sure why you're following his directions, you know exactly where the horse thingy is, but you figure that if he went through the trouble of pointing out a path for you to follow, you ought to follow it.

Your way would have been much quicker though.

You reach the thing with the horses that go around in circles and walk up to the guy operating the ride. He greets you warmly enough and you tell him what Jake told you to say. The guy practically hugs you, a huge smile spreads across his face and he thanks you over and over.

"I'm just so sick of this ride," He confides in you. "It's the same thing every time, around and around in slow circle after slow circle. I'm so glad you're replacing me."

You don't really know what to say to that, so you just kind of stare at him with a slack jaw.

The ride ends.

"OK, let me show you how you do this," He tells you. You follow him as he first walks over to the gate and opens it, then goes to help some of the kids who need help, get down. The kids all run to their parents who wait at the fence, and eventually the ride empties of all the kids.

He lights up a cigarette and stands there with you in silence.

"Now what," You ask after standing there for some time.

"Now we wait for a line to form and I can show you how to start the ride." He says, sighing deeply. "Man, I can't wait 'till I'm done training you on this. I really fucking hate this ride. I mean, it doesn't even draw a crowd. How many fucking rides are there that you have to wait for a line to start before it will run?"

"I don't know," You tell him.

"None," He replies, "This is the only fucking ride like that in the park. Except for Little Ducks, the kiddie area."

You stand in silence for some time, uncomfortable with the absence of conversation, you decide to introduce yourself. "My name is Ricky by the way," You say to him, holding out a hand for him to shake.

"Chris," He says, shaking your hand briefly. "You know what else pisses me off about this thing? No babes."

"No babes?" You ask.

"That's right," He says, hitting his cigarette deeply before continuing; "There's no fucking babes. You know how many chicks ride the coasters? Tons. And the water rides? Man, the guys that run the water rides have it lucky. There's always a hot dingbat who decided to wear a white shirt with no bra underneath.

"But the only babes you'll get on this ride are moms. Foxy moms. They're all right to look at, but when it comes right down to it, they're moms. They have kids and probably have husbands.

"Other than hot moms, the only babe you'll see on this ride is this blond chick who gets on the carousel once a week. She's gorgeous, perfect body, great rack, hot ass, and the most beautiful pouty lips you'll ever see."

He hits his cigarette again.

"Then what's the problem?" You ask.

"She's fucking retarded. Seriously. Mentally challenged. Not "slow learner" retarded or "acts like an idiot" retarded. Really, genuinely retarded. She picks her nose and eats the boogers and shit. They dethawed cavemen with more extensive vocabularies. It's a damn shame, too. She's a hot number. And her big body builder brother is always around, so you can't even try to take advantage of her."

"Damn," You say.

"Yeah," He replies, flicking his cigarette into the bushes behind the ride. "Looks like we got a line forming," he says.

You follow him to the entrance gate where two kids stand waiting. A third kid stands there with his mom, who urges him to get on the carousel.

"See what I mean?" Chris whispers to you.

"Yeah," You whisper back, "Any other ride and that kid would be begging to get on."

"No, I mean the moms," He says, "Look at the rack on her. Holy shit would I love to suck the milk from her teet."

You look at him like he's deranged... Mostly because you think he's deranged. "You're a sick bastard," You tell him.

"I know," He says. "But I'm on to better things soon, thanks to you."

The mom wins and the kid walks with his head bowed in shame towards the ride.

"Do you need help getting on one of the big horsies?" Chris asks him.

"Shut up, mister and start the ride," The kid retorts.

"We need four more kids before the ride can start, kid. Go pick your stupid horse so your mommy can see you ride around on it."

"Was that necessary?" You ask him.

"Hey Ricky, I don't go trying to tell you how to look stupid, so don't start trying to tell me how to treat the snot nosed little brats that get on my ride." He responds curtly.

"If no one else shows up after two or three minutes," He tells you, continuing with his lesson, "you tell that the carousel is about to start and that'll usually draw a few people."

"And if it doesn't?" You ask.

"If it doesn't you wait a couple more minutes and start it without them." He tells you.

"Ah," You reply, taking this information in.

Chris walks to the gate and cups his mouth with his hands. "Last call for the carousel!!" He hollers for all to hear.

One more kid comes straggling in.

"All right," Chris says to you, "Let's start this ancient bitch up eh?"

You follow him to the platform with the control switch on it and he shows you how to start the ride by moving a lever. He explains that it's on a timer, so you won't have to stop it, but in case of emergency he shows you the manual brake.

You notice a little knob beside the start lever and ask about it.

"Don't worry about that thing. It controls the speed. If you touch it, Jake will have your ass."

You help him start the ride twice before he parts company with you; wishing you luck. You wish him the same and wait for the kids to show up for the next ride. Somehow you imagined running a ride would be more exciting...

You go through the motions for a little over an hour, running the carousel four times for close to twenty kids. Chris was right, you decide, the carousel is a big pain in the ass.

At around five o'clock, however, a beautiful blonde catches your eye. She has a grin on her face that speaks volumes of happiness, and a body like the girls in the magazines your father keeps under his bed. She wears a plain dress and runs to the carousel with an overwhelming amount of excitement.

She runs up to the carousel and picks a horse, leaping up to straddle it. As she gets aback the horse, you cannot help but note the bareness of her ass beneath the dress. It doesn't appear that this foxy young temptress is wearing any panties at all. She looks up at you and smiles. You wonder if she caught you looking.

She makes only the second passenger on the carousel, so you know you have time to kill before more arrive and you have to start the ride. You want to go talk to her, but you're not really sure if she'll like you. You are a dipshit, after all.

Do you stand where you are and wait for more kids or go talk to her?




Interested in reading more? Ducky Park

Why I won't go to zoo's anymore

I was attacked by a flamingo at a local zoo. Fearing for my life, I whipped out my pocket knife and slit its throat. Thankfully no one was around to witness the incident, so I planted the knife in the monkey cages and ran out of the zoo to my car and drove home.

Later that night; I saw on the news that a monkey had found a knife and gone on a killing spree.

I can’t help but feel guilty about it.