Weird Things pt 1

Crazy/weird things that are true:

I've been handcuffed to a blow up doll

The ring bearer at my wedding was a dog

The best man at my wedding was a woman

I think I ran over one of my best friends in high school

I'm not always drinking when I write on this blog

I've technically have gone to 3 colleges yet have no degree

I once wrote a suicide note for a garden gnome so I wouldn't get blamed for his death. I didn't work.

I have given a mooning garden gnome as a gift

I once went gambling with $5 playing nickel keno, and won $5 with my last nickel

I laugh at inappropriate moments

I was in shock after getting hurt and repeatedly on the way to the my parents house would wake up, ask where I was, then sing a song about an ugly duck that got run over by a truck

Tonight I heard , "Oh jeez! India puked on her weasel" and realized that I'm not the weirdest person in the house.

I'm not dying

But I think I know how I am going to die when I do. I think I am going to have a titanic brain aneurysm where the blood comes out my ears. I do seem to have a good ability to spike my blood pressure pretty high and pretty fast, which ain't pretty. So that's the basis of why I am going to die that way. That, and I don't think that my death will be a fizzle, "oh he's gone now." kind of thing. It's not my style. It's going to more like, "Holy shit what the fuck happened here did some crazy carny shoot him in the head! Fuck! There is blood everywhere! Someone call the cops!" Jeez, knowing my luck it will happen while I'm on the toilet with a Playboy (for the articles) with my pants around my ankles and an unflushed toilet. That's depressing, so I'm voting for number 2. Not like it happening while I'm working on a #2, but #2 as in the second portrayal with the screaming and the carny hunt afterward. Not that a carny could take me out, and I don't allow garden gnomes anywhere near me after '98, so getting taken out by them is a long shot (and anyone who has used a carny gun to shoot out a paper star at one of their "fairs" know that their guns suck ass and can't hit anything.

I was thinking about putting in my will that after I die, to have my ass removed and cremated separately and the ashes from that baked into a pie and then the pie given the Dick Cheney. He probably get's a lot of pies. I want the rest of my ashes put in a paper bag (with "Dead body ashes" written on the bag with a sharpie), and put into a safe deposit box. And then my "tombstone" could be written on the back of a business card and put on the outside of the safety deposit box. It could say something like, here are the remains of a good agent of chaos who gave up his ass for a good cause. If you can think of any good tombstone sayings for me, feel free to throw them up in a comment.

Guilt Repost

OK, I feel guilty for posting such a lame post. So here is a repost of one of my favorites:


You know, I love beer. I love beer in it's many forms and varieties. I have overcome my beer snobbishness and can live up to the fact that I even like light American beer. I especially love Amber ales with their rich textures that flow over the taste buds. The sweetness and feather like quality of Rolling Rock beer has always been a delight to me. The batch of home brew I did I really liked too, especially the stuff that really fermented well and had an alcohol content slightly lower than hard whiskey. But I have to tell you, I think I found a beer that I not only dislike, I find it absolutely find it hard to drink. At all. Well, maybe not THAT bad, I do have a high gag reflex tolerance.....

Anyway.

This beer is named after a mythical creature of the northwest. And I don't think the naming of the beer is a coincidence. The beer really does taste like your mental image of what this creature would taste like. The beer I'm talking about is called Bigfoot Ale by Sierra Nevada brewing company. Oh my god, I swear to you that if I licked Bigfoot, I would bet you a million dollars that it would taste like this beer. I now believe in Bigfoot because how (or why) else would someone make a beer like this. Every time I take a drink of this beer my mouth automatically starts salivating profusely to drown out the bad taste in a sort of gustatory survival reflex. I've voluntarily put some bad things in my mouth over my lifespan, but honestly, I think this might be the top of the list. My wife won't kiss me after drinking this beer, it's that bad. And I'm not sure, but I think I heard the kids talking about why it smelled like dad ate a dead skunk. It's a bad beer. You know, I just thought of a redeeming quality of this beer. It tastes like tree bark. I love trees, so that is the closest thing to a compliment that I can give it.

Oh god, I just took another drink. YYYUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!!!!!! Jesus Christ how can they make a beer like this for mass market! Why do I keep drinking it for that matter. I find it goes down better if I can sort of bypass my taste buds.

My wife just took our dog India out of her bath and she looks so unhappy to have to have put up with the indignity of a bath. So reproachful, so forlorn. Poor dog. But crap, she was halfway to chiapet land.

OH GOD! I did it again. Why do I keep doing that!? I think deep down I hate myself and that's why I'm drinking this shitwater, treebark beer. I think the fact that this is my 4th beer is helping out. Like beer goggles for beer.

Hey! It helps to hock a loogie into your mouth and THEN take a drink of this beer. Yeah, you may say grooooosssss, but I say you haven't tried this beer yet.

Should I take another drink? I'm pretty toasted at this point, but I don't know if I can or not. My decision making capability has been compromised by all of the drink, but this beer is really, REALLLLYYYY bad crap. I think I would rather lick the ass of a sick Sasquatch than take another drink. But I am in the slightly drunk phase that anything and everything alcoholic is fair game. But this beer is pushing the limits of that too.

Phew, that's another one down. Being the cheap bastard that I am, I feel obligated to finish drinking the rest of this shit. And I am not using the label shit lightly.I just opened another one. I twisted off the cap on this one. It's freakin hard to twist off the cap on these bottles. It's almost like the brewery even thinks it's a bad idea to drink this beer.

OK, I think I have drank too much. The beer is staring at me, challenging me. I can almost hear it saying "drink me fucker! I dare you!" Yeah, I showed it. I took two drinks.

OH SHIT, the dryer is going to explode!!!!! Never mind, my wife came to fix the problem. Phew! Thank god she is here an sober....India reminds me of a badger after she gets a bath. I think it's all of the puffiness. It's also all of the licking.

You know after a big rain how there are puddles on fallen logs in the forest? Especially puddles on fallen logs with toadstools around them? That's what this beer reminds me off. Even in my deadened state of awareness, it tastes that bad. Maybe it tastes that good, but I don't realize it.

I think I should call it a night....

Love to all that make my life as fun and interesting as it is!!!!

Bits and Pieces, rambling drunk blog

So I need to preface this blog with the fact that 1) it is a drunk blog, and 2) I am REALLY tired.


First this drunk blog is brought to you unofficially by Kona Brewing Co. Pipeline Porter and Michelob's Hop Hound Amber Wheat.




















Before I get started I have to tell you that while I am not the biggest porter fan, the Kona Brewing CO Pipeline Porter with real Kona coffee is absolutely amazing. The complexity of the beer with the surprising complimentary coffee flavor is amazing. As for the other beer, I am sorely disappointed. I guess Michelob's idea of an amber wheat beer is to take bud light and and a drop of red food coloring in it. Then add a ton of elephant piss because that's what it tastes like. Don't get me wrong, I grew up in the south, and am male, so I will still drink it as it is alcoholic. But I feel abused for having to have paid money for this brew.


anyway, enough with that rant...


I went snowboarding today and had a blast! Well, mostly had a blast anyway. The 2nd run down the hill I was doing really good and lost it and fell on a hard packed snow mound and broke my ass. I didn't really break my ass but bruised my tailbone, but saying broke my ass is a lot more fun. Though being able to NOT say I broke my ass, if even in joking form, would be better still.

That makes me think of a tiny skit. A guy is skiing, and falls on his ass. He is writhing in pain and moaning, crying; " I think I broke my ass!", when all of a sudden he lets out a huge fart. Then he says, "Oh thank god it still works!". Then he starts waving at his face and says, "Oh Jesus, maybe it IS broke!" Then a St. Bernard dog comes up with a little cask around his neck like in the cartoons but passes out when he gets near the guy.


That reminds me of this old comedy skit show "Bizarre" where a guy had to take his shoes off for a scene in a Japanese restaurant and he wasn't doing it. They finally get him to do it and the rest of the cast starts gagging, the plants start drooping, and the wall paper rolls up. I was rolling on the floor from laughing at that one.

Oh man, that was funny earlier. I think my comedic timing is off or something. I wonder if it's messed up because of some fubared government daylight savings thing.

Speaking of snowboarding, I got up a 3:30 to feed the critters since my wife is out of town. I could have gotten up later but I was too excited. That's pretty crazy since I was up late last night chasing after a breakout artist horse. Luckily the other horses he was with didn't break for it either. I couldn't find or see them at first and I was worried that they might have gotten loose and tried to hitch a ride for Hollywood or something. They are younger horses and don't understand the vicious people and cutthroat society that Hollywood is, especially for ruralites. Oh yeah, and after I got the horses settled which took a good 45 minutes, I was greeting by a nice pile of dog vomit when I got back in the house. Yeah, my dog's are givers. Great. But even though I got to bed late, it didn't stop me from getting pumped about snowboarding today.


Here is a part repost of something I thought was funny from one of my old blogs:

BOGO stands for Buy One Get One free. Now In sales we use this term a lot and we just pronounce it as bogo. Now we have had a deal at one time that was a BOGO deal, but a bit different in that a customer could get up to 5 free, so it's like BOG5. But wait, how do you pronounce that? Maybe I'll email Sesame Street, they are good at that kind of stuff. Of course with my luck lately, I'll get Oscar the Grouch answering the email that day and he will tell me to (and I quote from this fictional email response) "JUST FUCK OFF GOD DAMMIT, AND THERE IS NO SANTA CLAUSE! JESUS I HATE THESE STUPID QUESTIONS FROM YOU STUPID BASTARD KIDS WHO NEVER VOTE ME THE MOST LOVABLE SESAME STREET CHARACTER! OH! AND IF YOU SEE THE GRINCH, TELL HIM THAT I CALLED HIM A PUSSY. -with regards, Oscar the Grouch" God bless the rants of Oscar the Grouch. Unofficial of course...


Did you know that carnies have their own language? It's called Cizarny. You basically put iz after the first vowel in every word. I always thought it was just some kind of fucked up carny pig latin, but no, it's its "own" language that just RESEMBLES some kind of fucked up carny pig latin. I learned that from NPR by the way, whoda thought?

Man, I've been watching Heroes season 3 all night and it isn't exactly the type of thing to get me in a comedic mode. Heroes is like Battlestar Galactica for me. I stopped enjoying it awhile back but I can't stop watching it. I should watch porn. Not that it would get me in the comedic mode, just that I like porn. And I don't have the problem of not wanting to watch porn.


My favorite shows lately are "Big Bang Theory", "Eureka", and "Lost". Especially Lost as it was going downhill for so long but the writing this season has been amazing.

This is a fizzle blog, or even more so a fizzle drunk blog isn't it? I can tell because I haven't been hitting the backspace key much for obvious spelling errors. Oh well, like I've said before, I'm kind of like the Mel Brooks of comedy, I throw a bunch of stuff out there and sometimes it's a hit and sometimes is isn't.


Another reason I can tell it's a fizzle is that I haven't mentioned my 10 inch penis, or written about my 10 inch penis extensively. Does that mean I'm getting old!?


FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!


I'm thinking of starting a religion whose basic tenant is that orgasms are gods way of saying that you are doing it right, and that sex has nothing to do with love and families. I'm going to call it the first church of Free Willy. Glen Quagmire will be the pope.

Women need to step it up with funny/cute names for their genitalia. Men have all sorts of names for their penis, but women do not (not that they have penis'). And the names that are out their for their private parts are not funny or appropriate in most cases. That's kind of fascinating.


I think I was oxygen starved as a child. It would explain a lot.

Well even though this wasn't the best post, there are plenty of older post that I read when I need a smile. Go read those. :)

I did good. Grammatically.

So today I used a sentence correctly that I never thought I would be able to do. It just goes to show you that if you have patience, any opportunity will present itself. What was the sentence you ask? It was, "Look, put the bacon in your pants and just give me the 5 bucks!" Ahhhh, the feeling of accomplishment...

My Bucket List

I've seen a few different bucket list's lately and it kind of got me to thinking about what my bucket list would consist of. A bucket list for those who don't know is a list of things you want to accomplish before you die. Now keep in mind that a bucket list will change over time as we change over time. But for now, here is MY bucket list.

1. Rid our planet of the evil domineering carnies. (duh!)


2. Rid the planet of garden gnomes who are all in league with the evil carnies.

3. Help a coke addicted rodeo clown get off his clown addiction and move on with his life.


4. Finish my "to do" list

5. Win the lottery


6. Shoot, and make, a 3 pointer (I suck at basketball)

7. Shoot a .50 caliber rifle


8. Find Bigfoot, and get him a sponsorship with Gillette.

9. Complete a scientific study of which creatures melt when you pour salt on them.


10. Cross the Grand Canyon on a pogo stick "facing" Evel Knievel.

11. Learn how to eat rice with chopsticks


12. Learn how to use an abacus

13. Overcome my superstitions


14. Come to a decision on what kind of body I want after I become a brain in the jar.

15. Learn how to balance a checkbook. Oh wait, that's on the IRS's bucket list...


16. Laugh everyday.

17. Find where a shooting star lands.


18. Go on a week long horse ride where you have to "rough it".

19. Find the best way to get Nitrous Oxide out of a can of whipped cream.


20. Find someone else on this planet who appreciated the movie "Shakes the Clown".

21. Overcome my addiction to the smell of an opening can of tennis balls.

22. Successfully market my Outdoors Triathlon.

23. Do not offend the Illuminati

24. Solve a Rubik's cube

25. Take life less serious.

26. And not be committed in the process

30 pounds equal 1 inch

There is a new math that a friend of mine informed me of. It's basis is that losing 30 pounds equals one inch of penis length. The idea is that a guy (and certain transvestites/transsexuals) loses 30 pounds, you gain effectively one inch of penis length. Now, I have recently lost 30 pounds and said friend asked me if my wife noticed the extra inch. I'm not leaving it up to her as an extra inch added to my already huge 10 inches isn't that big of a deal. So scientifically I measured it and yes, my penis (dick/cock/crowbar of love) did increase in size. This turned out to be a big motivator for my friend to continue on his weight loss goal, and I'm not sure what to make of that. Maybe I should just leave it as I have a penis that inspires people. :) So from now on I will be claiming that I have an 11" penis, and that so you are not alarmed, I DO know how to use it. Unless I have been drinking and then all bets (and claims) are off. I (like most men) may THINK I know how to use it, but there are no guarantee's implied or implicit.

The use of big words used in questionable circumstances is proof that this is a drunk (and tired) blog.

Something something something, have a good night, it's god's way of telling you that you did it right, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda, I think Julia Louise Dreyfus has great hair, Seinfeld was a great show I should watch it again, the Bee Movie sucked, I sometimes wish I had an American Express card, especially when I go to Costco, god I love Costco for their samples, I wish I had room and could afford a nice elliptical machine, I'm thinking of joining a gym again, how many commas are in this train of thought sentence, I like trains, I've been on a train once, there was a military guy meeting his girlfriend/fiance' and they kissed when he got off and I never realized how amazingly cool that was till now, I loved being kissed by loved ones.

Phew!

Is Weirdness Genetic?

Tonight I was in the kitchen cooking when my wife and son were playing cards in the living room. They started telling each other knock knock jokes or something. SHE was telling knock knock jokes, my son was trying to make them up like most kids (and like most kids failing). I'm only kind of hearing this when all of a sudden my son belts out "I'M THE QUEEN OF FARTS!!!" I was between cracking up and asking myself "where the hell did that come from!"

Part 2

Do you think ADD might be contagious? One of my super powers (I have 4 that I know of so far) is that I can not answer a question, yet make you walk away thinking I gave you an answer. You will wonder what I said, but you won't be able to remember. My wife says I would make a great politician. It happens to her all of the time. Man, if I was a politician... I would run for president, but only if I got to pick the interns. Anyway, I think I figured out the whole not answering thing. When I'm thinking of how to answer a question put to me (Like, "when will you get home?") I tend to talk about something while I'm thinking about the answer. I go over what I am doing the next day, what may come up and stuff like that. Before you know it, you are off on a nice tangent with me, and then we end the conversation and you go off with a weird feeling that you missed something. Have no fear though, there isn't anything to miss, because I never answered your question. Maybe I could get a job as a consultant for politicians who are in a tough spot and need to shift the attention away from whatever bad thing they got caught doing. I could get a code name like Smokescreen or The Invisible Answer man.

Anyway, you know how I know this is a super power? Do you remember the question that was asked in the beginning without peeking above?

Bears shit salt!?!?

I'm just relaying important survival information. My wife was driving me back from a doctors appointment (I'm still not pregnant), when we sort of traded places. I should back up a sec and give a little background here. My wife has this odd tendency to ask really off the wall questions out of nowhere. Like can you skate in a pool that has water in it? How would you go about buying a camel in the Northwest? Which then forces me to try an answer said off the wall question as best as I possibly can. So there we are, driving home from the doctor (no more cream!!!), and I come up with, "How would you find salt if you were stranded out in the middle of a forest?" I'm not sure where this thought came from, but it was starting to bug me. Her best idea was to follow other animals around and look for them licking the ground and then that would probably be a good place to find salt. Now, if you have ever been hiking, following an animal that doesn't want to be followed, and none of them do, it's damn near impossible. Second, I don't think that licking dirt that another animal has licked is a good answer. Then she tells me that , "You could watch where a bunch of butterflies have grouped together on the ground. Oh, wait. They were on a pile of poop when I saw that."

OK

ummmmm, NOOOOOO. I think I'll pass on that one thank you honey. Actually, I'm glad she finished that thought because if I ever get stranded in the forest I won't investigate what the butterflies are going over on the ground in the forest. But it got me thinking about the bear shitting in the woods joke, and somehow that was twisted around to a bear shitting salt. Then I thought to myself, "I don't KNOW that it wouldn't be salty...", and you know what? That is the way it's going to stay. Period. Still, is bear shit natures Gatorade?

That's the most offensiveness that I can come up with for now.