Now Read this…no….really…you’ll lol

September 1, 2007

 While I’ll grant that she has done some scurrilous things in her time,  I’ve still managed to tolerate Bagel like I would a dull normal step-sister.  I’ve been tricked into watching 7 minute long youtube’s that lead to suicide , Have had cat’s attached henceforth and forevermore to my blog, and listened to her whine about how hard she’s worked.

   Well, apparently the she-satan of Ration Reality has decided to make it up to me.  She has written an absolute gem of a piece translating Rap music into normal english.  It looks like quite possibly years of research went into this, and probably copious quantities of narcotics.  All of this on  whatever a housewife can save up from the grocery money and turning a trick or two on the weekend.

  I’ve read a lot of very funny stuff here at wordpress, but this is almost transcendant…you should probably have a look.  Or not.  you reading it won’t increase my income nor my enjoyment of the article, so I really couldn’t give a shit less.

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The day in pictures…or not

August 29, 2007

   Because it happened to be occurring at the time I generally rise anyway, I slipped on some shorts and wandered barefoot over to the golf course to check out the moon.  I’d received a text message telling me I ought, and had decided last night if I didn’t wake up late I would.  this is what happens when you ignore your instincts.  The text message was from an ex and said something about “go look at the fucking moon asshole” or some such.

    My heart was warmed by this poignant prompting, and being obstinate I almost went and took a good healthy shit in rememberance of the relationship.  Instead, because I actually wanted to see it I did so.  It was a moon.  It was hard to see because it was in its fully eclipsed phase, and as noted at 6 a.m.,  blue.  As I was returning to the house I noticed something dark on the steps.  It wasn’t big enough to be a corpse, so with my disappointment already upon me, I tried to make out what it was.

   It was a cat.  A kitten rather.   A furry little puntable puffball of a kitten.  I’m not a cat fan.   I nudged it with my foot to push it off the steps, and the feral little fuck reared back and hissed at me.  In the best of times I’m not a particularly pleasant person, and in the morning I make Genghis Kahn look like a girl scout.   Had this thing been human it would’ve been soundly smited and sent packing.  Since it wasn’t, I went ahead up the steps and into the house.  My screen door tends to close at whatever speed the wind dictates, and I’m not particularly inclined to turn and close doors.  They close or they don’t, it’s all up to them.

   When I finished the morning blurb, bath, and beyond I returned to the living room to do the animal things.  Water the dog, feed the dog, water the rabbit, feed the rabbit, water the cat….what the hell is that thing doing in here?  Apparently the cursed little dung beetle had followed me in, and was all curled up next to Roscoe.  I reached down with ill intent, but as i tried to return it to its natural habitat (anywhere but my home) Roscoe started grunting at me.  Not his high pitched I want to bump uglies with your ankle growl, but rather these almost nurturing sounds.  I took a closer look at the kitten, and noticed that it was that blueish black color.  I like to think of it as necrotic.

    Each time I tried to extricate the kitten from Roscoe’s clutches he started with the grunting nonsense.  I decided to hell with it and went to work, where around nine a.m. I broke my finger, and just after lunch pulled a muscle in my chest.  Add to this the determination as to when I would take my forklift training, and the general all around ignorance of the workforce, and it was not a good day.  I did get the east end of the baghouse done, so at least it was productive.

    I drove home in one of them funks that has you cussing at everyone going slower than you for being an idiot, and everyone going faster than you for being a maniac.  Don’t lie…you’ve been there.  I’d forgotten about the cat.  Apparently he had forgotten about me as well, for when I walked in and headed for my flop zone the mangy little hair merchant was on my couch.  I didn’t see him, and the yowl eminating from him when my oversized ass landed on his microscopic body was in direct contradiction to the laws of probability.  It rattled the windows.  I was fairly impressed.

     Cats,  being spawns of satan, are incredibly hard to damage, and this one wasn’t injured.  I still felt bad, so I let it hang around.  Then my daughter came in.  Squealing with delight she snatched it up , and spent the next several hours doing the can we keep it thing.

   I now have a cat.  I blame it for the eclipse, the finger, and any other damn thing that went wrong today anywhere on the planet.   It’s name is general Tso’s kitten.  laugh fuckers.  The first time I smell cat in my house it will be general tso’s kitten, and my daughter will be in a convent.  

   


I Can Haz Cat Nuggets?

August 8, 2007

How funny. Suddenly my blog is being visited by the cat folk. You know who I’m talking about. The walleyed, semi-literate set that frequents I can haz cheezeburger. Its our equivalent of the animal section at hallmark cards. I know why they come here. It’s a masochistic desire to learn about their sickness. In our society its not enough to know that you’re sick. You have to know what other people think about your disease.  Before I start this I’d like to slip this link in.  The wiseasses over at Ration Reality did this a couple of days ago, and since you are cat folk, and I’m the sort that believes in feeding a habit,  kitty pictures linked to my posts.  I haven’t retaliated, so if anyone has a suggestion other than “kiss my ass” slip me a comment.  Go ahead you catheads, have a look then read on.

So in an effort to quash the unwanted visitation of what I can only assume are lesser life forms I will try my hardest to explain it again. You like cats. That’s right. That’s the genesis of your disease. Instead of using them as god intended you pamper them, and house them, and let them kiss your mouth. Have you ever watched a cat lick its balls? Or its rectum? Did he brush his teeth when he was done? No. He kissed you. He licked you on your now cats butt infested mouth.

It’s okay though. You’re not likely to die from letting a cat lick your face after he washes his bottom. Nor from allowing the scurvy little buggers to spray your house down every time they go into heat. Nor from them sharpening their claws on grandmas Chippendale chair. You will of course be pitied by members of society that understand the proper place of a cat. Next to the green beans. On a plate.

I can probably help you though you troglodytic cretins. Maybe you’re just ignorant. Maybe you just don’t know any better. If thats the case the following will help you out. I’ve listed several acceptable uses for cats/kittens that may help you stop prostating yourself before the feline demons.

1. With just a little duct tape.a kitten makes a great croquet ball.

2. Drivers education. Take your child out driving and award points for cats and kittens. If he gets a hat trick buy him a pizza.

3. one word    souffle’

4. writing a thesis paper. Its alleged that cats always land on their feet. Toss one off the hoover dam. Write about the results.

5. Fetch. Any dog can get a ball and bring it back to you. Toss a kitten. It will help keep your dog healthy.

6. Pull. Cats make great clay pigeons. You can’t use a normal trap thrower, but if you grab it by its tail and throw it like a discus they spin perfectly, and make a fine red mist when hit making it easy to keep score.

7. pinatas. rubber cement candy to your cat and hang him from the tree for your child’s birthday party. Not only do the children get rewarded when they hit it, but it makes an awful racket, saving you money on noisemakers.

8. slippers   this one is self explanatory. just hollow out the rotten little craphead and slip in your feet. nothing like warm fresh kitty slippers.

9. tired of kids running across your lawn? Kill a cat and put it on a stick. Works much better than a scarecrow for birds too.

10. dusting. Again, obvious. If you’re gonna let the little beast get furballs on your carpet its a tradeoff that you use him to dust the furniture. Besides, a healthy dose of pledge will cover its stench.

Now knowing as I do that merely by hanging out with a cat you have proven just how dumb you are I can’t see you taking my advice. Its ok. Just go clean out that stinking cat-box you servant.


I just washed my utopia and I can’t do a thing with it

August 5, 2007

     I’ve had some nasty things done to me in the ol blog world.   From having my blog hijacked, to being called everything in the book by my Ron Paul fanatics.   I even had one tell me I had just written the dumbest thing he had ever read on a blog.  I was offended until i found out he was a 30 year old libertarian and had only been reading for 2 weeks. Today though is a day that shall live (at least for me) in infamy.

Last weekend I found a blog full of truly reprehensible heathens, and overwhelmed by an incomprehensible sensation of pity, I spoke to them.  Practically treated them like equals, even though it became abundantly clear at the onset that this blog was obviously staffed by an eclectic mix of short bus rejects.

   Though they were apparently afflicted by more neurosis than the staff of the White House, I stll felt that it was my civic duty to attempt to improve their lot in life.  Which I did, by allowing them to bask in the glow of my brilliance while they continued to toil away slavishly at their what can only be described as “intellectually malfeasant” blog.

   Today I received my comeuppance.  In the best tradition of no good deed shall go unpunished these blog slugs somehow paid someone to create pictures with words on them for their little corner of blog hell.  These pictures are of cats.  These pictures are linked to posts, one of which is cleverly titled 6 a.m. Hateful, and written by me.  Yeah.  They linked my blog to a cat.  Not even a good cat coated in cornbread and served with potatoes and gravy.  A furry ornery little fourlegged version of satan is what they linked my pristinely virtuous literary masterpiece to.

  We’re these not obviously the human versions of a gene pool picostimus I would be on them like Doug Heffernan on a chicken…like the pope on an alter boy…like linsey lohan on a crack pipe.  Instead I shall rise above because picking on the mentally handicapped is not acceptable behaviour.  Also because they are far superior to me technologically, and this kind of thing would almost certainly keep happening if i were to declare a blog war. 

Payback is a bitch they tell me, and ms. Bagel has one coming.  The rest of them of course shall be tossed in under the guilt by association clause. 

Bunch of icanhazcheeseburger wannabe’s.

very funny

  


Ron Paul Turns in a big number in polls, and other News I like

August 4, 2007

  I think it’s probably wrong to keep your dead ex’s body next to your bed.  The dead don’t deserve that type of disrespect.  I am ok with the use of tzxidermy to keep your loved ones around after they pass.  I think just a head mount would be in pooor taste, but a full body mount doesn’t seem unsound.

Raise your hand if this is news to you.  If you have one hand up raise the other one and hit yourself in the head.

All right ladies, don’t get mad.  Oh go ahead.  You don’t need the money.  this comes as a surprise to me.  I always found angry female bosses about as good to have as angry mail bosses, just with breasts.  I think i would pay them more. 

Crazy History Geeks try to blow up the Queen Mary II.  Ok, no they didn’t, but can you imagine how the guy who made this bust must of been rushing?  Possible terror attack, (which apparently every story is now automatically tagged with), and it turns out to be 3  members of the Turtle Historical Club?

I’m glad really.  I wish to see if a major metropolitan area’s voting bloc will complain about being constantly under surveillance.  This should be interesting based on how concerned they are about someone listening to their phone calls

Ron Paul comes out swinging like bonds is the latest newsweek poll.  I mean bonds on his current i can’t hit shit streak of course.  Ron Paul’s whopping 2% of those polled hsould have the faithful clamoring for his ascension into heaven.  Man the euphoria should be bouncing around headquarters like they’re on an XTC binge.

Bush’s poll numbers now on a historical par with Truman, Carter, and Nixon.  Let’s take a moment to consider this.  Truman dropped an atomic bomb, and ruled with an iron fist through the post war economic disaster, Nixon violated the law on several levels and had to resign, and Carter was the honest Brack Obama, although brighter, of the 70’s.

a cat story for my readers from icanhazcheeseburger…not what you had in mind was it? Kitty got his ass kicked.  That should piss off the peta patrol.

I went here to find out what pop tarts had to do with Hiedi Klums bosom.  You”ll see why I feel like a dumbass when you click on the link.  If you don’t, then you’re an even bigger dumbass than I.

See this is where you see the difference between strategy and tactics.  Remember this as the week Barack Obama lost the nomination.  Unless of course he gets a note from his doctor saying he was on psychotropic drugs and had lost all touch with reality.  What an asswit.

 and thats good news friday.  i didn’t even have to use the bridge, the dog mauling, or the kid cooking in its car seat stories.  What a lovely thing is technology.  We now really do know way more than we really wish to.

Hillary “da rack” Clinton rode her cleavage to a huge lead on the democrat side of the poll…See the Ron Paul link above.  I only added this because I wanted to call hillary “da rack” which rhymes with barack, and is a hell of a start for one of those kill whitey rap ditties.


sunday is for random thoughts 8.5

July 30, 2007

1. The only thing you can’t find on youtube is a republican debate

2. whether you’re a professor or a gardener, I think letting your kid get cooked in a car is a bad thing, and probably should be punished

3.  I’ve never met a stripper I didn’t like, but I don’t loan them money

4.  Leonard Nimoy is going to play spock again.  I think thats cool.  An old really strange guy not working as a walmart greeter.

5.   a coelacanth won’t do anything but swim in a brook, he can’t write his name or read a book… would you like to swing on a star would’ve been a much different song had it been written 360 million years ago

hell its a Bing song, and i’m bored…here you go…gratuitously stolen from some other website…What that is called boys and girls is confessing to a crime.

Would you like to swing on a star
carry moonbeams home in a jar
and be better off than you are
or would you rather be a mule

A mule is an animal with long funny ears
he kicks up at anything he hears
His back is brawny but his brain is weak
he’s just plain stupid with a stubborn streak
and by the way if you hate to go to school
You may grow up to be a mule

Oh would you like to swing on a star
carry moonbeams home in a jar
and be better off than you are
or would you rather be a pig

A pig is an animal with dirt on his face
his shoes are a terrible disgrace
He has no manners when he eats his food
He’s fat and lazy and extremely rude
But if you don’t care a feather or a fig
you may grow up to be a pig

Oh would you like to swing on a star
carry moonbeams home in a jar
and be better off than you are
or would you rather be a fish

A fish won’t do anything but swim in a brook
he can’t write his name or read a book
to fool the people is his only thought
and though he’s slippery he still gets caught
but if then that sort of life is what you wish
you may grow up to be a fish
(music)
a new kind of jumped up slippery fish

And all the monkeys aren’t in the zoo
everyday you see quite a few
so you see it’s all up to you,
you could be better than you are
you could be swinging on a star

5.  You bone strokers better read that.  I could be incarcerated for it.

6.  Dogs are way better than cats.  Why?  It’s simple really.  Because I said so.

7.  I feed my pets.  My children have to fend for themselves.  Thats what opposable thumbs will get you.

8.  speaking of opposable thumbs…can I trade mine for a prehensile tail? It looks funner

9.  Roscoe has overcome his aversion to tile floors.  It is funnier than hell to see a rabbit walking like a cat, but not so funny to feel his furry little ass scootching across my feet as I’m shaving in the morning.

10.  We are going to have a democratic president.  This president will be a woman.   I’m ok with it.  Let a woman screw things up for awhile.  They lie better, and I’m far to jaded to fall for just any old bullshit.

11.   glass is a solid.  I just said that because one group of people I’m almost certain I’ve never pissed off is the “glass is a liquid” crowd.  This is what 44 years of pissing people off will get you. 

12.  Male praying mantids don’t masturbate.  You see what it gets them?  For those of you who don’t know the female praying mantis tends to chow on the male after sex.  The human version of this is called “alimony.”

13.  I am in pool number 20 of jurors for marion superior court.  I think the best way for me to get out of it is to have them punch up criminyjicket on their computers.  I’m not trying to evade my civic duty, although I have no idea why they call it that…a civic is a honda right?  What I’m trying to do is make sure some poor schmo doesn’t get the chair for jaywalking.  i can be persuasive when I want to be.

14.  I don’t care what else you do this millenia, but at some point you should go check out Anita’s sunday prayers.  She is probably the only thing keeping god from tormenting me 24/7.

15.  I am now going to bed…no…you may not come along…I am tired, and explaining the birds and the bees to you is beyond my ability at this time…enjoy your week…or not…as you see fit…being pissy about everything causes hair to grow on your toenails, and nobody wants to hang out with a hobbit


this week, the blog review, and sunday is for random thoughts #8

July 29, 2007

  Yeah were combining all these this weeek because I’m lazy, and have to go to work at 4 a. m.  Trust me when I tell you reading me then would not be half as pleasant as this will be, and I’m not counting on this being no tip toe through the tulips trip for you anyway.

   I had a bad week.  I failed to beat the crap out of my fellow commuter, and I’ve regretted it ever since.  Somehow mercy leaped to the aid of the little poindexter driving the G35, and I for one am worse for its presence.  It makes me feel llike I’m getting old.

The massive zit rising out of my forehead like a Vesuvias eruption on the other hand doesn’t make me feel young.  I haven’t had a zit in 20 years, and I of course blame the blogosphere.  This being the pimple on the ass of all things literary, I fear its attemting to subjugate my brain.  That or my horns are finally growing in, and according to the quiz over at Empress Max’s blog that may be the case.  I drew the devil card, but it’s erroneous I’m sure.  They come no more mild mannered and pacifistic than I.

      I have also found some new spice for the blogroll, and it is a devilishly funny place to visit.  I should probably warn you that some of the stuff might make you laugh.  Some of the things are not funny stuff, but the take they have on it can leave you shaking your head.  If you go there be sure to find out what a CILF is.  I found it to be a rousing good read, and I’m sure when they are playing in their own little hell we at O’malley’s pub and eatery will be worse for their absence.  Don’t go here if you are a lemming.  It’s not your thing.

Soldier of Truth manages to talk about a lot of issues that generally make you think boring, but he does it in a way that isn’t.  Some of his stuff is downright hilarious, and he pisses off ron paul fans so he’s cool with me.

   The blog is doing alright.  I”m not changing the world, but I beat CNN and the other news orgs. to the punch quite a bit.  I’m not sure if that’s really a good thing since if they think it’s worth talking about I almost asuredly do not.  I have more people reading my semi-literate efforts at cretinism than I would’ve thought would be the case 2 months ago when I started this, but when I compare readership to total number of humans on the planet it keeps my ego in check.

I refuse to post about Hillary Clinton’s cleavage as long as Nancy Pelosi’s monumental fat orbs are dangling in the halls of Congress.

For all you Dick Cheney fans, he just got a new defibrillator installed (thats sort of a high tech oil change).  If you really don’t like him go microwave him some popcorn.

Darwinism seems wrong until you go to walmart.

my neighbor has a cat that thinks my house is his home.  I think he intends to eat Roscoe.  My next post is likely to start My neighbor HAD a cat.

I have to get up at 4 a.m. tomorrow.  If I say that once more I’m whining.  To put some perspective to how I feel about that, let me just point out that I would rather be ass-raped by a wandering band of hyenas.

Do you think the romans feeding christians to the lions made the lions dumber?  You are what you eat.

Bitching whining and complaining doesn’t change anything.  automatic weapons do though.

since my lobotomy doesn’t seem to be taking I’m going to end this.  You folks have good weeks, and piss someone off.  It’s good for the soul