Don't Read This

Rambling...that's my middle name. I would change it, but I don't like change...unless it's jingley change. That I like. That and donuts. But not the "fat-free" kind. Those are yucky. What was I saying?

1/20/10 10:58 AM

My Refrigerator is a Skanky Ho!

I was going to go for a run today, but it's raining, so I think that running today is a bad idea. Unless you're a refrigerator. Then you should run everyday. I'm not a refrigerator, but maybe you are or you know somebody who might be. I guess if you are a refrigerator, you probably don't mind people putting things in you. I'm not a refrigerator, so I don't like it when people put things in me. Unless I ask you to, or pay you to or blackmail you to do it with skanky pictures of your Border Collie in a freak suit. Otherwise, it's just weird. I did have sex with a refrigerator once. That crisper drawer really is versatile! Not really. It's only good for produce. You'll just have to trust me on this. Or try it for yourself, I don't care. I do care, but I won't make a big deal out of it. I only make big deals in Vegas. Or in a a public bathroom stall, but, why drag George Michael into this?

Don't you just hate people who get all offended at the slightest thing? Like that time my neighbor got offended when I washed her car while she was at work. It was a good deed!! I should offer that I vomited all over the front seat before I washed it...but it was still a nice thing to do. It wasn't like I got drunk and vomited in her car or anything like that. It was food poisoning. I think it was something I drank. Okay, it was definitely something I drank, but I seriously suspect that bottle of vodka was past it's expiration date. I may sue.

Anyway, I never get offended by anything. I do offend myself sometimes. That's annoying. Just this morning, I told myself a joke that really pissed me off. I'm still not speaking to myself. Which makes my co-workers happy, actually. I don't have co-workers, I work from home, but my cat did meow her voice of approval. I may buy myself something really pretty later on today to make up with myself and then later on tonight in the shower, I'll just take my...well, that's personal, isn't it? Sick-o!

Comments (1)

  • 6/14/10 - Franki 7775Your really insane, It must be due to the food poisoning or should I say the over due vodka that...  Show Full Comment
12/15/09 11:06 AM

Tiger Wood Removed Susan's Boyle!!!

I had an affair with Tiger Woods, too. Well, not an affair, but I used to watch A Current Affair and he was on that show once, I think, so that's similar, right? I love Susan Boyle. And by "love", I mean that I wouldn't ever buy anything she ever recorded because I get it all free on Limewire! Not really. I don't believe in stealing. Unless you're playing baseball. Then it's okay.

The judge didn't think so, though. He said no matter what game I'm playing, pick-pocketing is never okay. Unless you're Oliver Twist. I just love that movie. "You have to pick a pocket or two!!"

That's what I was singing when I stole that guy's wallet. And I was good at it! Everybody said so. Not the guy, though. He did love the dancing, though. I could tell by the way he had me in that choke hold. He said I was a star! No he didn't, but I did see stars. After he hit me with that aluminum baseball bat. His aim was good!

I need more coffee.....*dashes away*

Comments (2)

  • 1/11/10 - nutellaI´ve never read so funny entries like these ones.
  • 1/10/10 - SGSidekickHoly crap! Your mind is toasted, isn't it!?! LOVE it!
11/22/09 1:04 PM

Dog Food Tastes Like Chicken!

My next door neighbor can be so testy at times. She came to my door yelling and screaming because I gave her hungry dog some food. Okay, it was her little kid, but he was starving! Actually, he's a little porker and I know you shouldn't feed children dog food, but it was all I had. And dog food tastes good! Actually, it doesn't and I would know because I tried some once when I was a little kid. Fine, it was last week, but there was a good reason. I hadn't done my weekly shopping and I still had two big ol' cans of Alpo on the top shelf that I was saving for the next time my son forgot to clean out the septic tank. Children can be so forgetful! Like that time my son forgot to...well, I forget what he did, but I bet he won't forget the lesson he learned after eating a bowl of kibble!

The social worker didn't forget either, actually, and said that she was going to open an investigation. I just laughed and laughed and said I'd open a can of whoop ass on her if she darkened my doorstep again. Those people can be so nosy, am I right? I am a very good parent, everybody says so. Well, not everybody but at least one person and who cares if it's my mother who suffers from Alzheimer's? It's true that she chewed on her bathrobe and said, "Man, these french fries are tough" and once tried to smoke her finger, but she knows good parenting when she sees it.

One of the best ways to be an effective parent is to always teach your child new things. Like arithmetic, spelling and the fine art of chimney sweeping. That's a valuable skill, I'll tell you! And my little son's the best at it. Or he will be once he is discharged from the burn unit. I discovered that you should always make sure the fire is out before you lower your kid down the chimney. Woops! I quickly found out, though, when he started screaming, "AAAAHHH GOD, I'VE ENTERED HELL!!

Well, dear readers, that's all that's going on in my life this lovely Sunday morning. Now I must go because my mother is out front arguing with the garden gnome. Toodles!
11/20/09 1:00 PM

Catnip Makes You Gay!!

Do I have the right to force my cat to share in my religious beliefs? She doesn't think so, so I thought I'd pose this question for you, dear readers. You guys always post the most uplifting comments and suggestions. Like that one commenter recently who said, "Holy shit, have you suffered recent head trauma?? What the hell is the matter with you??". I know that doesn't sound like an uplifting remark, but you gotta read between the lines, like I do. That's how I got through college. I read between the lines in all of my textbooks. That always helped me pass all of those tough exams. Not really, I flunked out of college, but that guy really supports me.

Okay, he probably doesn't support me at all, but why would I care what he thinks? I trotted over to his "blog" and found nothing but advice and links to websites about overcoming childhood trauma. Right. Like that's important. I suffered from childhood trauma and my life is just peachy. I just live by the philosophy that you should never live your life in the past. That really helps. That, and the Seroquel.  Don't judge me.

Anyway, back to my cat. I think it's important to instill good values in your pets. Otherwise they'll just ruin their lives with sin and debauchery, like my cat does. My cat recently came out as a "homosexual". It's true! She told me so herself. Okay, what she actually said was, "Meow!" but it was very butch and she was wearing that insufferable plaid flannel shirt. Not really, cats don't wear clothes, but that's part of the problem right there! Nudity only leads to one thing: SIN! And I should know, because the last time I was nude in Walmart, I got into a whole bunch of trouble. I found out later that you're not supposed to try on the underwear before you buy it, but how else can you know if it fits? Sure, I wasn't in the dressing room when I was trying it on, but they were all full. Nobody saw me or anything. Well, there was that one kid, but he didn't care. I could tell by the way he was screaming and vomiting. (Read between the lines, remember?) They also don't let you try on the bras, but that's for a different blog.

Unfortunately, I can't write anymore this morning, my cat just walked in and asked if she can change her sex like that evil Chastity Bono. Not really, but I do have to get her spayed and I can tell she's really looking forward to it, the four-legged freak. And she does have that sordid tail.

11/19/09 8:57 PM

Therapy Clogs My Arteries!

So, dear readers, you will be happy to know that I've finally decided to quit smoking. And since I've never smoked, it'll be so easy. My mom is so proud of me, she said, "Oh my god, will you EVER move out!" So you can see how happy she was. Okay, that didn't sound like happiness, but you'd have to know her. Trust me on this.

So, the other day I was telling my therapist that I think I'm getting better and that my self esteem is improving. I told him that I yell positive affirmations at myself in the bathroom mirror every morning and that really helps me to start the day off with high aspirations and positive goals. Well, it wasn't my bathroom mirror, it was a mirror on display at Bed, Bath & Beyond, but any mirror will do, I think you'll agree. The manager didn't agree, though, because right after I screamed at my reflection, "YOUR PENIS IS THE PERFECT SIZE!!" he said I had to leave. I don't know what the big deal was. Well, except for that elderly woman who fainted near the bath towel display, but I can't help it if self help offends some people.

Anyway, my therapist was so proud of my efforts and progress and told me so by saying, "Would you like fries with that?" Fine, it wasn't my therapist, it was the girl at McDonald's, but she is very nurturing, let me tell you. And every time she hands me my double-quarter-pounder with cheese, I feel so much stress lift off my back. Yes, it is being re-routed to my arteries in the form of unhealthy cholesterol that will likely kill me before I'm forty, but it this your therapy? No, I don't think that it is.

Anyway, dear readers, that is all I wanted to tell you this fine, rainy day...and I'm so happy that you are here for me. You ARE here for me, aren't you?


Comments (2)

  • 11/20/09 - Sign543Haha, thank you. :)
  • 11/20/09 - Judith (JUDITHEA)I like you're sense of humor. I think you'll make it.
11/18/09 2:36 PM

BigFoot Stole My Carbon Footprint!

So, my boss at work calls me into her office the other day. I was in my office doing important things like…okay, I was doing a crossword puzzle, but she gave it to me and that's the truth. Not an inconvenient truth…but I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, she calls me into her office and she says, "You suck at life, fill out this form and then afterwards I'm going to kill you." No, she didn't say that. Well, yeah, she did, but still, that's not the point of this entry.

She asked, "When are you going to start reducing your carbon footprint?"

And that's the point, you see, because I am not going to reduce my carbon footprint. I'm going to *increase* my carbon foot print, that way people will know I was here. How else can you know? You're welcome.

The best way to increase your carbon footprint is to shop at Foot Locker. Don't you just love their cute little checkerboard shirts? They look just like coaches in the NFL, except I doubt any NFL coaches wear pink lipstick and sport beehive hairdos like that lady did at the store where I went. She was really nice though and let me blow that big whistle around her neck. Actually, she didn't, it was a huge gold locket with pictures of her grandkids inside, but how could I know that? It was in my mouth. See? You understand.

Anyway, I told her I wanted to increase my carbon footprint and asked where they stocked their carbon dock martins. She just laughed and laughed and laughed. She thought I was so funny. No, she didn't, she actually called mall security, but I did buy a shoe horn while I was there. It was an acoustic shoe horn, but it wasn't tuned, though. After that, security dragged me out kicking and screaming. Okay, they didn't drag me out, but I was still kicking and screaming. I think I need more fiber in my diet.

11/10/09 8:45 PM

I'm Back!

I'm back! I know, I know, you want to know where I've been for 3 years, right? Well, I'm sure that's not all you want to know. For example, you probably want to know why Rihanna has such a big forehead. Right? Stop looking at me like that.

Anyway, where I have been is kind of a big deal. You see, dear readers, I've been off helping to feed the poor in distant third world countries. Okay, not really, but I did give a french fry to a starving kid who was sitting in a ditch once. Fine, he was sitting right beside me and he's my nephew, but he really wanted it and I couldn't resist the longing in his eyes as he said, "Give me a damn fry, asshole." He's such a cute little thing. Everyone says so. Okay, nobody says so except his parole officer. Not really. What she actually said was that if he didn't get some serious mental help, he's going to kill somebody.

Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk about. I got a new job! I'm a doctor! No, not really, but I did apply. And by "apply", I mean I went recently to update my immunizations. That shit hurt! I hate needles. But, I was brave. I didn't even flinch. Not even a little. Okay, maybe a little. Fine, when she stuck the needle in, I screamed, "OH MY FREAKIN' GOD, YOU'RE KILLING ME!!!", but she didn't mind. Actually, she did and told me to get the hell off her lap, but who could blame me?

I got my immunizations because I don't want that dreaded Swine Flu. I hate pork. And a sneezing pig just freaks me out. Except if the pig is a cop, but you shouldn't call them that, I found out. But, he had no right to pull me over. I know my rights. He said I wasn't allowed to vomit out of my window while I was driving. Well, could I help that I was suffering from a terrible stomach virus? Not really, I was drunk, but he didn't know that. He quickly found out when I offered him a shot of my vodka, but a high fever will make you do crazy things, am I right?

Anyway, I would type more but my 6-year-old blabber-mouth son is yelling at me from the back seat saying it's illegal to blog and drive. Like he would know. He can't even keep his diaper on straight. I would pull over and beat him, but it would take too much time to un-duct tape him from the seat. Well, somebody stole his car seat. Don't judge me.

Comments (1)

4/29/07 4:15 PM

I'm A Body Builder!

Well, not yet, but I did join the local gym, so I'm well on my way. Actually, I'm really good friends with Arnold Schwartzennegar, so you can see the kind of body-building company I keep. I give him tips on working out all the time. In fact, if it weren't for me, he wouldn't be where he is today. Not really, but I did vote for him, so that's kind of the same thing, right?

Okay, I don't know Arnold, but I can do a really good impression. You should hear me say, "It's not a tooh-mah!". I sound just like him. Everyone thinks so. Okay, only one person thinks so, but she works for the information directory, so her opinion is very reliable. I could tell by the way she said, "Do you want me to give you a phone number or what, asshole?" that she was very impressed.

I'm already in pretty darn good shape as it is, so I doubt my journey to becoming a body-building champion will be a long one. I mean, if you saw me, you'd see how my muslcles already are just so defined and just bulge out everywhere. Sometimes I'll just flex my muscles in this big body-building pose and just let out a big roar. That really gets me in the mood to work out. You're not supposed to do that at the library, apparently, but how was I supposed do know? But, anyway, I am so built! Sometimes kids get scared when they see me approach.

To be fair, I should mention that I walk down the street in red speedos and a sombrero, but I do live in San Diego, so you can see why that's not all that strange.

The gym where I go is really great, I have to say. The lady who signed me up said I should start with lighter dumbbells, so I don't over do it and get all sore or injure myself. I didn't see a lot of small dumbbells at the gym. There was this one guy who looked kinda stupid, but he wouldn't let me lift him, so I just decided to start working on my specs...or flabs..or something. I don't know the terminology. I asked a lady to point me to the machine that will make my neck bigger than my head, but she just said to go to hell, so I left her alone.

After a few minutes, I decided it might be best to start on the treadmill. That's a great workout, let me tell you. They said the key is to start slow and work your way up. They don't fool me, though. They just say that so you'll stay longer and pay more money. The girl said I was an idiot and said that my membership fee was the same no matter how long I stayed, but I've read the fine print.

The key to the treadmill is that it gets your heart rate going really fast. That's important. I found out the best way to get your heart rate up really fast is to just sit on the treadmill and then hit the start button at the fastest speed possible. When you go shooting off the end into the wall, your heart rate is just flying, let me tell you! They wouldn't let me do that anymore, so then I just started running on it like all the other boring people who don't know how to have fun. I didn't start off slow, though. Instead, I turned it all the way up and sprinted like crazy, screaming, "RUN, RUN, AS FAST AS YOU CAN! YOU CAN'T CATCH ME, I'M THE GINGERBREAD MAN!!!"

After awhile, I was tired, hot and sweaty, so I decided to take a shower. I asked this big guy to "spot me", but he just called security, so now I have to find another gym. I'm thinking of joining a pilates group. I've always wanted to fly planes. My uncle is a pilat and takes me up in his cessna all the time.


Comments (3)

  • 2/17/08 - j charltonI really hate trying to open cd's --- you ruin your fingernails, your patience, the packaging (?)...  Show Full Comment
  • 4/29/07 - Sign543Haha, has been a while. :)
  • 4/29/07 - No Really, It's Ranger (fr4)'ve been missed. Stand still.
9/18/06 1:39 PM

I'm Ready For My Close-Up, Mr. Demille!

Well, I’ve decided to take my blog in a totally new direction! I’m going to turn it into a docu-drama. Some of you may not know this, but I’m a pretty well-respected filmmaker. It’s true! Okay, it’s not totally true. Nobody actually respects me, but I do just love that song “Respect” by Aretha Frankfurt…or Frankincense or whatever her name is. I just love to sing that song wherever I go. “Sock it to me! Sock it to me! Sock it to me! Sock it to me!” I sang that at my latest prostate exam, unfortunately, and had a lot of explaining to do. But most people say I sound just like her! Okay, only one person said it. What she actually said was, “This is a museum, so shut the hell up,” but she wasn’t fooling me one bit. I knew what she meant.


Besides, who did she think she was being so bossy? I was on a class trip and my third grade teacher was in charge of us. At that point, I really had to go to the bathroom, so I raised my hand and asked the teacher if I could go. She was really nice and let me. Okay, fine, she actually said she wasn’t my teacher and that adults weren’t allowed in the third grade and if I didn’t get away from her class she was going to call the cops. But, I still got to go to the bathroom and that’s really the point. And her class was so nice! At least I got to join them for snack time. Well, not exactly, but one girl did throw a banana at my head as I was leaving and I did get to eat the half I didn’t accidentally step and slip on.


So, anyway, I’m starting to film my docu-drama, and I have to say the footage is looking really good! I have some really good connections in Hollywood, so I was able to hire some Academy-Award winning actors. Meryl Streep is going to be in my film! Well, almost. She did agree to appear, though. Okay, I don't know Meryl Streep, but I did hire my stuffed bear, and he does sort of look like a Dingo and I do like to hold him while playing my Merle Haggard records, so you can see that’s almost the same thing. Also, I was able to get funding to buy a million-dollar camera to film with, so that was fortunate. By “funding”, I mean I broke open my piggy bank with a hammer like I used to do as a kid. Actually, it was my safety deposit box at the bank and the manager screamed at me, saying I’d have to pay for that. People can be so mean sometimes.


I couldn’t actually afford a million-dollar camera, so I bought one a bit cheaper. Okay, there was only $15.33 cents in my safety-deposit box, so I wound up using my mom’s old Polaroid camera. Don't you just love those? You snap the photo, there's a blinding light and then the picture comes shooting out the bottom. I used to pretend I was a Polaroid camera when I was a kid, but my mom said I had to stop because it wasn't pictures I was shooting out of my bottom, but we can skip that story.


Anyway, I know it's not actually a filming camera, but if you take like a hundred pictures in a row, you can piece them together and make a nice flip book that looks like a movie when you flip them really, really fast. You have to stand really still while you film each frame, though, or it doesn’t work. Also, it doesn’t work if you have to jump off your roof in the nude for a segment, which I do for my film, I’ll explain later.


The hard part is that the action only happens in the split second when I snap each photo, so I have to scream, "ACTION!!!!!!! CUT!!!!!!!!" really, really fast, so the crew doesn't get confused. Actually, the stuffed bear is my only crew member, but sometimes it seems like a whole bunch of people since he's so hard to work with. For example, he demands his own trailer, room-temperature bottled water, and will never sign autographs. Oh, the rigors of the film industry.


I just love films, though, don’t you? Not you. The girl to your left. I go to the movies all the time. Just every chance I get. I would go even more, but Circuit City said I can't bring that lawn chair back into the store and that hanging out in the electronics department, watching their television sets without buying anything is against the rules. What a stupid head. How can I know what I want to buy if I can't try it out first? I also asked that question when they were screaming at me in that toilet store. Wow, but people can be testy these days. 


Anyway, I love that one film, “The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe,” When I got home from that movie, I immediately ran to my wardrobe to see if there was another land inside, behind my clothes. I was so excited! I just shoved my way all the way to the back behind the cloaks and coats and started feeling for the tree branches and the snow. I don’t actually have a wardrobe, but my suitcase worked just as good, once I squeezed myself all the way in, zipped it halfway and piled a bunch of my clothes on top of me.


I felt just like I was in the movie and I started calling out, “Aslan! I’m coming, Aslan!! Wait for me!! Wait for me!! I want to help fight the Snow Witch!!” It was a blast! Well, until the security guard at Sears showed up and ruined everything, the idiot. Fine, it wasn’t exactly “my” suitcase, but the clothes were definitely mine. I know, because I was wearing them up until I had to take them off to pile on top of me while I pushed through the wardrobe. Doesn’t work without the clothes, I think you’ll agree.


I just love to act out scenes from movies, though. Al Pacino is great, isn’t he? I just love to do that line, “Are you talking to me? Are YOU talking to ME??” Finally, the waitress at Sizzler said, “Yeah, dumbass, I’m talking to you. I asked you what you wanted to drink!” But she has no sense of humor. Looking back, it was probably a bad idea to act out a scene from The Exorcist and spit pea soup all over her when she brought me my check, but at the time, I thought she would just laugh and laugh and laugh, instead of screaming and running to the back.


Comments (5)

9/7/06 12:36 PM

Death by Vick's Vapor Rub

How many things can go wrong in just one day? Why can’t every day just be trouble free? Where does it say that life has to be just one big ‘ol kick in the head after another? And why doesn’t Steve Buscemi get his teeth fixed? Ignore that last question.

Today did not start off well. I pride myself on being a very good parent. I really do. And I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that sewing my own son’s clothes out of yarn is probably not a good way to show it. But, he loves them, dammit, and pleasing him is what’s most important. Okay, he doesn’t love them, but he does wear them. If he didn’t, I’d just ground him to his room again and conveniently forget to fill his water bowl. Actually, sometimes I really do forget. Well, the bowl is white and sometimes when the light hits it wrong, you can’t tell it’s empty. Except if the water gets dirty from sitting there too long. Then it’s easy to tell. Just kidding. It’s still hard to tell.

So, this morning, I tell him that he’s a big boy now and he doesn’t have to use his booster seat anymore. He was so happy and proud and rattled his chains to show it. I just smiled and put him on the chair and then noticed that his face was just level with the table edge. Oh, well, so he wasn’t exactly big enough yet, but what harm could it do? I quickly found out.

Suddenly, he rears back and lets out this horrible sneeze and his little face just slams right into the edge of the table. Awful. Just awful. What a mess. I mean, he chipped the Formica right off the edge and that stuff is not cheap, let me report. Then he starts screaming and holding his face, yelling, “The blood! The blood! My tooth!” Blah-blah-blah. Hey, bucko, teeth will grow back, but who’s going to fix my table?

Eventually, I saw how bad he had been hurt and after I revived him after fainting from blood loss, I took him to the dentist to get his tooth fixed.

Okay, none of that last story actually happened (except the water bowl part), but I do have a Formica table that got chipped. My son says he didn’t do it, but I still almost grounded him to his room. Instead, I just put him in the well for a few hours and yelled down to him, “It puts the lotion on it’s skin or else it gets the hose again!” No, I’m kidding. The hose doesn’t work anymore. And we were out of lotion, so I threw down some of that yucky Vick’s Vapor Rub.

I remember my mom used to slather that stuff all over my chest when I was younger and sick. Now she says I’m older and sick. Anyway, somehow the fumes were supposed to open up your nasal passages. It worked, too! The bad part is that it also singed my eyelashes, burned all the hairs out of my nose and opened up the nasal passages of all the neighbors within a block’s distance. I think I read someplace that Vick’s Vapor Rub was invented during the Spanish Inquisition. That, and the packaging for CD’s. Have you noticed how hard it is to get into a packaged CD? I gave up and started using dynamite. It worked, too! Well, just on one side. For the other side, I used my band saw.

Seriously, though, I do love my son. He’s such a precious little thing. And my daughter. I don’t actually have a daughter, but I have to say I do in this blog since I have to justify the money the State gives me. Qualifying was no easy task, let me tell you. When I introduced my daughter to the welfare lady, saying, “Tell the nice lady hello, Nellie,” the lady said, “That looks like a mannequin”.

I got really nervous and just told her that she’d slept wrong in the bed and was probably just a little stiff. And she bought it. I got a nice, big fat check. Just in time, too, because I need some new DVD’s. I’m just upset that I have to spend part of it, dressing and feeding the mannequin. I have no idea what I’ll do once she starts school. Faking that is going to be sheer hell, I can tell you. Plus, she’s getting really uppity these days. Striking poses all day long, thinking she’s a model or something. And she never listens. I scream at her all day to friggin’ sit down already, but she just stares off into space. I’m thinking of letting her have a nice long stint in that well. See if that won’t wake her up.

About the Author
Contact me:

I was born in Rangoon and was raised by a one-legged goat-herder who suffered from halitosis, crunchy hair, and a cough due to cold. One day while I was out helping my goat-herding legal guardian collect a couple of stray goats who were bleating and eating our neighbor's poppies (they weren't really poppies...they were carrots, but he tried to fool us so we wouldn't eat his "upside down flowers"), I happened upon a book written by Mark Tween (yes, I know it sounds the same as that other guy, but trust wasn't him) and instantly fell in love with book binding. It was beautiful.

Later when I was in high school (okay, prison, but they did teach us things), I decided I wanted to become an amateur milk I went to finishing school (where I learned to finish the folk tales I used to spin but never finish when I was a kid and an old plate of beets I refused to eat when I was eight because they reminded me of my Aunt Edna's blood boils)...and the rest, as they say, is history. Well, not the kind you'd read in a book...unless you happen to be writing a book about me, which would be pretty unlikely...unless you're my mother and someone raised you from the dead. She's not actually dead, but that's what she always screams at my brother. "You make me so mad, I wish I was DEAD!"

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