I know what you're thinking. The world must be coming to an end. After two years of not posting anything, I've decided that it's time to start posting again. This is now more of a combo thing. Not only will I use it for the purpose of ranting, but to just say things that I think I need to say.
I think this one may get a bit serious to start and the funny thing is that almost everyone that reads this won't be a member of the population that used to.....so enjoy.
Anyway, In August/September of last year I realized that I was very unhappy with where my life was and took steps to remedy that. I made some small changes (how I present myself to others) and also some very bigs ones (my job, outlook on dating, etc.). Anyway, as unhappy as I was back then (at least when reflecting), I am quite the opposite now. I have spent most of this week in a stupor smiling away. Granted, most things like that can be attributed to people rather than situations, but the fact that I love my job and don't have anything to complain about makes it seems so incredible when something good does come along. I guess I'm just happy and really wanted to say it into a public forum. I could be happier, but that would take way too much effort :-p Just kidding. I'm just feeling lucky, since being me is a freakin' awesome place to be at the moment and I don't think I'd trade it for anything.
Oh, and to all my friends that are responsible for this (I would mention particulars, but I like being vague), thanks. That's really all I wanted to say. I'll do my best to go back to being funny soon, but for now, I'll just settle for being happy.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
I love radio commercials.
They really do provide some absolutely wonderful material. And it's all from pure suckiness. Today, and at least a few times before, I heard an absolutely retarded one. Just For Brakes, they do a whole lot of brake jobs apparently, over 1 million last year. But that part is the meat and potatoes of the ad. It's the end that kills me. The jingle goes like this... "At Just for Brakes, we really do.........CARE!" I've decided that this could be the worst jingle of all time. Let's break down the reasons:
1. It doesn't rhyme at all. Any good jingle has some level of rhyming to it, even if it's ABCDEC or something along those lines. The rhyme sticks in your head. They just have this horrible knack for annoying the shit out of you, but after the 10000th time you hear it, you can't get the motherfucker out of your head. I've had myself at work and singing radio goddamned commercial jingles for hours on end. It's miserable. But I do remember who to call if I need a plumber or locksmith or something like that.
2. The phone number never appears in the fucker. Jingles need to have the phone number. Something to remind you, "yes, call this when you need us." Like (and I don't remember exactly who this is for but "867-0916. 1,2,3,4 open the door." That has the number in it. And it rhymes. This is a winning jingle.
3. To be perfect it has to be incredibly crazy catchy. The kind of thing that would lead you to sing it when at work for hours on end. And when I say catchy, just humming isn't good enough. It needs to be all out singing. And not just singing to yourself when you're in the car. I'm talking singing balls to the wall in public surrounded by people that see you on a regular basis. The kind of singing usually reserved for great songs, stuff by Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, and the Rolling Stones.
So where does teh Just For Brakes one fall short? Well, first it doesn't rhyme. I was expecting something more like "At just for brakes, we really do....brakes." Granted that would suck too, but better than care. And that pause between do and care is just SOOOOOO long. Gives you time to think of stuff they should be saying instead of the world care. Second. No phone number. Not even mention of how to contact them. Imagine I need help with my brakes right away. what do I do? Do I look for the nearest, cheapest place or do I search out the fuckers that got that jingle stuck in my fucking head? Answer is no. 2. I may hate the jingle but it will work on me, I'm a weak soul. And lastly, it's not catchy at all. Before I sat down, I actually had to think to myself, how did that goddamned annoying stupid ass jingle i heard today go? Usually, it's more like why can't i get that fucker out of my head? Instead of writing about how annoying it was being stuck in my head, i'm writing about how much it sucks. And it really really sucks. big time.
Ok, that should occupy some minds for a few, that and my wrist is hurting from typing. So on that note, fuck off bastards!
1. It doesn't rhyme at all. Any good jingle has some level of rhyming to it, even if it's ABCDEC or something along those lines. The rhyme sticks in your head. They just have this horrible knack for annoying the shit out of you, but after the 10000th time you hear it, you can't get the motherfucker out of your head. I've had myself at work and singing radio goddamned commercial jingles for hours on end. It's miserable. But I do remember who to call if I need a plumber or locksmith or something like that.
2. The phone number never appears in the fucker. Jingles need to have the phone number. Something to remind you, "yes, call this when you need us." Like (and I don't remember exactly who this is for but "867-0916. 1,2,3,4 open the door." That has the number in it. And it rhymes. This is a winning jingle.
3. To be perfect it has to be incredibly crazy catchy. The kind of thing that would lead you to sing it when at work for hours on end. And when I say catchy, just humming isn't good enough. It needs to be all out singing. And not just singing to yourself when you're in the car. I'm talking singing balls to the wall in public surrounded by people that see you on a regular basis. The kind of singing usually reserved for great songs, stuff by Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, and the Rolling Stones.
So where does teh Just For Brakes one fall short? Well, first it doesn't rhyme. I was expecting something more like "At just for brakes, we really do....brakes." Granted that would suck too, but better than care. And that pause between do and care is just SOOOOOO long. Gives you time to think of stuff they should be saying instead of the world care. Second. No phone number. Not even mention of how to contact them. Imagine I need help with my brakes right away. what do I do? Do I look for the nearest, cheapest place or do I search out the fuckers that got that jingle stuck in my fucking head? Answer is no. 2. I may hate the jingle but it will work on me, I'm a weak soul. And lastly, it's not catchy at all. Before I sat down, I actually had to think to myself, how did that goddamned annoying stupid ass jingle i heard today go? Usually, it's more like why can't i get that fucker out of my head? Instead of writing about how annoying it was being stuck in my head, i'm writing about how much it sucks. And it really really sucks. big time.
Ok, that should occupy some minds for a few, that and my wrist is hurting from typing. So on that note, fuck off bastards!
Sunday, October 16, 2005
A title that promises nothing
Now, if i've ever had an acurate title to a post, this was it. I mean, it says nothing at all, not a damned thing. I had other ideas for the title since what is on my mind will be far more amusing than anything i've written since at least 2 posts ago. But really, does this go down as a good title or a really shitty one? Maybe i should have just titled it, I have no idea what to call this one, but that would be a lie. How about something like "I have an idea but that might give away the direction that I want to go with this post"? But that's too long. Ok, so really nothing is too long for me, I believe you should always be over-expository (BIG WORD ALERT) in everything you write for humor. Why? cause it's fucking funnier that way! Really, that's it, fun-ni-er. yes, i broke it down into syllables, live with it, it's the best way to do the "should i talk more slowly?" or the ever so famous (at least to some of us) "did i studder?" Basically it's teh "i'm getting this point across regardless of what you might try to do to stop me. It's true, you may have gone to U(sic)GA, but this joke is so prolonged and stretched out and overused that even you can get it.
Ok, so now that that's been said, i'll get to what i wanted to talk about. It's not that important. Well, actually, for once i think it is. It's got more to do with the world than just my skewed perception of it. Ok, so maybe i only think that since as i just said, i do have a skewed perception of the world. But here goes anyway...
When I do something that's really dick, for example hang up on someone when they're annoying or i call them an asshole and simply walk away. You get the point anyway. But when I, or any guy for that matter, do(es) something along those lines, all I can say is "sorry, felt like a dick there for a moment" or "he's just an ass" or "fucking bastard". There's no good way to get out of it intact. That's where women have this HUGE advantage. See, if a woman does this, she has teh ultimate out (and yes, that was gonna be the title of this post originally) she can just say "sorry, PMS" and all is forgiven.
That's sooooooo unfair. I really wish we had something like that to cop out of any time we just wanted to be the world's biggest prick. It could be LOPS, Lack Of Play Syndrome. But that's not acceptable. I guess since it's not proven or something. But really, i think about it, and it's rather simple, cause i know that when i go thru long stretches (in that 2 month-9 month range) i get really just a bit more testy. Why that range do you ask? well it's simple. In the first two months, you figure, well, i'm just pacing myself. After 9, you've kind of resigned yourself to the idea that it's more likely that your penis will fall off randomly than get some happy fun play time. In between though, it's the "god damn, i need me a woman." and you get a bit testy and pissed at all sorts of people. This is where LOPS would come into use. But i don't think people would be likely to let you get away with it for 7 months in a row.
However, in this unfair world, women get away with it form teh age of 13 until around 50, 4 days out of every 30. That comes out to 13.5% of 37 years. Now, is that fair? i thought not. So really, we should be allowed some time to be assholes ourselves. Not a ton, just some. But this really leads me to my next thought related to this. Which is, that all world leaders should be married men. That way you make sure that they are men that are at least getting a little loving so as to avoid LOPS and not women to avoid PMS so that wars are for bad reasons like oil and not really bad ones like "i was feeling like a prick today, so i blew up a small country."
Ok, well i think that will work for today. If you want me to post more, inspire :-P or at least be funny, or soemthing liek that.
Ok, so now that that's been said, i'll get to what i wanted to talk about. It's not that important. Well, actually, for once i think it is. It's got more to do with the world than just my skewed perception of it. Ok, so maybe i only think that since as i just said, i do have a skewed perception of the world. But here goes anyway...
When I do something that's really dick, for example hang up on someone when they're annoying or i call them an asshole and simply walk away. You get the point anyway. But when I, or any guy for that matter, do(es) something along those lines, all I can say is "sorry, felt like a dick there for a moment" or "he's just an ass" or "fucking bastard". There's no good way to get out of it intact. That's where women have this HUGE advantage. See, if a woman does this, she has teh ultimate out (and yes, that was gonna be the title of this post originally) she can just say "sorry, PMS" and all is forgiven.
That's sooooooo unfair. I really wish we had something like that to cop out of any time we just wanted to be the world's biggest prick. It could be LOPS, Lack Of Play Syndrome. But that's not acceptable. I guess since it's not proven or something. But really, i think about it, and it's rather simple, cause i know that when i go thru long stretches (in that 2 month-9 month range) i get really just a bit more testy. Why that range do you ask? well it's simple. In the first two months, you figure, well, i'm just pacing myself. After 9, you've kind of resigned yourself to the idea that it's more likely that your penis will fall off randomly than get some happy fun play time. In between though, it's the "god damn, i need me a woman." and you get a bit testy and pissed at all sorts of people. This is where LOPS would come into use. But i don't think people would be likely to let you get away with it for 7 months in a row.
However, in this unfair world, women get away with it form teh age of 13 until around 50, 4 days out of every 30. That comes out to 13.5% of 37 years. Now, is that fair? i thought not. So really, we should be allowed some time to be assholes ourselves. Not a ton, just some. But this really leads me to my next thought related to this. Which is, that all world leaders should be married men. That way you make sure that they are men that are at least getting a little loving so as to avoid LOPS and not women to avoid PMS so that wars are for bad reasons like oil and not really bad ones like "i was feeling like a prick today, so i blew up a small country."
Ok, well i think that will work for today. If you want me to post more, inspire :-P or at least be funny, or soemthing liek that.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Ok, so maybe i'm not so consistent
When I left you three weeks ago, I said I would do my best to write once a week. Apparently that was all just an elaborate lie of mine to convince you to come back over and over again expecting results. But there have been none! HA! That'll teach you to trust me, or something like that. Really what it comes down to is a mix of laziness and stuff that I was doing. The stuff though was swing-dancing and work, so nothing that should have prevented this moment from occuring. Instead, I spent a whole lot of time reading and sleeping. That precious time could have been spent riffing on something totally meaningless on this site, which I am doing at this moment. I really do believe that this is my release from reality. Here I get to talk about all sorts of things that really have no relevant anything to them. It's just a whole bunch of non-sense back to back to back... And we all love us some nonsense.
But the subject which seemed to come up quite often this past week was etiquette. And not just any, but Southern. Why? because myself and friend (Leeny, for those that know her) were hellbent on educating on of her friends on the way to be a southern gentleman. Granted, he's from northern Ohio, so he was a little slow on the uptake, but we still did what we could to help. That's when we started going over all the little rules, which will be discussed later, one by one. Anyway, I started thinking about these rules and all, that's when three things crossed my mind. First, that a whole ton of these are somewhat outdated, considering women's lib, automatic locks, sewer systems, and automatic doors. Second, that some women do find offense when some of these rules are followed, but even they like to be pampered on occasion. Which leads into point three, A proper southern gentleman would clean up in the north. He'd have women knocking on his door at all hours, so cool.
Then all these rules, well, there are the ones everyone knows: Hold open doors, Open the car door, close the car door, give her a hand to help her up out of a seat, walk on the street side of the sidewalk. There are the ones that less people know: Pull her seat out, and then push it back in under her so she is close to the table. Stand when she gets up to leave the table. Order food for both of you (after asking what she wants) or let her order first, this all depends on the girl. Let her choose her seat first, then you take one of the remaining seats. And then there are the rules that nobody ever seems to know: Always lead when walking, even if it's by only half a step, especially when going down stairs. Exception to rule, when going up stairs, she goes first, in case she falls, you can catch/break fall. Also, going thru a doorway, even when the doors are propped, she goes first. She is the first to take a bite of food, don't start until she does. Always let her offer to pay, then don't let her. I can on for a while with these, but I'm sure people get the point. There's just all these rules.
So going back to this education thing, we were realizing that northern men have no freaking clue about any of these and how to treat a lady. I've learned this when I open doors in the north and they look at me like i'm some kind of alien. I remember giving up a seat on a bus to an old lady in boston and i just got these "what the hell?" looks from everyone. But the point is that I have no idea why I'm talking about this. I think it's time to switch up topics.
Maybe salt shakers would be more sensible. Well, not sensible but more like me. Cuase let's face it, when am i ever sensible. I do things, i think about them later, but sensible, it's not my forte. I really do think that a random ass subject like salt shakers, coming in the middle of something completely unrelated, like this, is more like me than talking about a subject that's not that funny. But why salt shakers do you ask? well, i personally don't know, it was the first thing that popped into my head. so it was that or antelope, and I don't really want to talk about antelope. But yeah, salt shakers, i always thought about the why thing. Cuase they all empty out at different rates, so when with one you don't get enough, the next one it's like eating a salt-lick. I mean really. But anyway, i don't feel like typing any more. I just needed to put something down. Sorry it wasn't all that funny. Acutally, had barely any humor, but i just like to think 0f it as a bridging of the gap to my next post which won't suck :)
But the subject which seemed to come up quite often this past week was etiquette. And not just any, but Southern. Why? because myself and friend (Leeny, for those that know her) were hellbent on educating on of her friends on the way to be a southern gentleman. Granted, he's from northern Ohio, so he was a little slow on the uptake, but we still did what we could to help. That's when we started going over all the little rules, which will be discussed later, one by one. Anyway, I started thinking about these rules and all, that's when three things crossed my mind. First, that a whole ton of these are somewhat outdated, considering women's lib, automatic locks, sewer systems, and automatic doors. Second, that some women do find offense when some of these rules are followed, but even they like to be pampered on occasion. Which leads into point three, A proper southern gentleman would clean up in the north. He'd have women knocking on his door at all hours, so cool.
Then all these rules, well, there are the ones everyone knows: Hold open doors, Open the car door, close the car door, give her a hand to help her up out of a seat, walk on the street side of the sidewalk. There are the ones that less people know: Pull her seat out, and then push it back in under her so she is close to the table. Stand when she gets up to leave the table. Order food for both of you (after asking what she wants) or let her order first, this all depends on the girl. Let her choose her seat first, then you take one of the remaining seats. And then there are the rules that nobody ever seems to know: Always lead when walking, even if it's by only half a step, especially when going down stairs. Exception to rule, when going up stairs, she goes first, in case she falls, you can catch/break fall. Also, going thru a doorway, even when the doors are propped, she goes first. She is the first to take a bite of food, don't start until she does. Always let her offer to pay, then don't let her. I can on for a while with these, but I'm sure people get the point. There's just all these rules.
So going back to this education thing, we were realizing that northern men have no freaking clue about any of these and how to treat a lady. I've learned this when I open doors in the north and they look at me like i'm some kind of alien. I remember giving up a seat on a bus to an old lady in boston and i just got these "what the hell?" looks from everyone. But the point is that I have no idea why I'm talking about this. I think it's time to switch up topics.
Maybe salt shakers would be more sensible. Well, not sensible but more like me. Cuase let's face it, when am i ever sensible. I do things, i think about them later, but sensible, it's not my forte. I really do think that a random ass subject like salt shakers, coming in the middle of something completely unrelated, like this, is more like me than talking about a subject that's not that funny. But why salt shakers do you ask? well, i personally don't know, it was the first thing that popped into my head. so it was that or antelope, and I don't really want to talk about antelope. But yeah, salt shakers, i always thought about the why thing. Cuase they all empty out at different rates, so when with one you don't get enough, the next one it's like eating a salt-lick. I mean really. But anyway, i don't feel like typing any more. I just needed to put something down. Sorry it wasn't all that funny. Acutally, had barely any humor, but i just like to think 0f it as a bridging of the gap to my next post which won't suck :)
Monday, September 12, 2005
My jumblies
So I spent my entire last post talking about body parts, mainly those considered unmentionables. This post however, is looking to be entirely different. Why will it be different? I have yet to discover this, but I can promise there will be a stark constrast between this post and the last. I could spend the whole time talking about something other than body parts, or I could talk about different body parts altogether, or (and this seems more likely minute by minute) I could just talk about my last post in this kind of manner. However, I feel I should do my best to create some level of original work.
Speaking of original work, ever wonder why some rappers get credit for originality or talent when they don't have either. Particularly, Puff Daddy or P. Diddy, or I like using the letter P cause I think I make me cooler. I mean really, the man's name is Sean Combs. How the hell did that become Puffy? Did he do too many drugs and he was known for his puffy eyes? Or was it the fact that he seems to love fur coats that are 20000 layers thick and 4 sizes too big? I mean, that would make me puffy, I know that for sure. And why don't non-rappers get these kind of nicknames?
The really cool nicknames have been dominated by the rappers: Jay-Z, Eminem, Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre. These are quality names. Still my favorite is DJ Jazzy Jeff. It's just fun to say, tons of fun i think. Try it out...doesn't that alliteration just roll of the tounge? Now try it in a southern accent, it comes more like Deeeeee-Jaaay Jayzey Jayff. Goes from 5 syllables to somewhere between 8 and 15. But that still brings up the question why? Is it because names like Sean Combs and Marshall Mathers just aren't "hard" enough? I would name other rappers by real name, but I don't know any, sorry.
So going back to what I was saying, a mixture of why? and why not other musicians? I can see Joshua Bell coming out to dropped lights, a fog machine, some strobe lights, dancers and a big screen flashing "J-Bell" over and over as he gets on stage. Then some beautiful woman bringing him his violin as he stands front and center. Ok, so that's not too cool. How about Diana Krall? She could go by Special K, sit behind the piano and in that hardcore kind of way, start singing the old jazz classics. Maybe I just answered my own question as to why the other artists don't have those nicknames, but it still leaves the question as to why they have such cool ones.
I really want to know if someone named Brody, Chauncey, Bret, something super-anglo, could make it as a rapper. I'm not saying they'd have to white too, just have one of those "hello, i'm the butler, (insert name here)" kind of names. And that would be great, if all butlers had to have those kind of names. I really would have to get one just for the purpose of waking up each day and saying "morning Jeeves." And it's ok, you can admit it, if you were hiring a butler, you would name him jeeves too. Did I just say name him? I meant get one named. But then again if you hired the guy, you might want one cool enough that they would let you name them, and of all names, Jeeves. That name is pretty sweet though. Maybe that'll be my rapper name.
One day, you'll see it, DJ Jeevesy Jones. I think that's what I really want to be. A rapper. Ok and going back, yeah, my name isn't Jones, but then again, it's closer to reality than Puff Daddy. Have you ever met someone named Puffy? That's what I thought. Now, how about jones? That you have. So it's feasible. And I know i'm white, and not just white, but WHITE. So this would all be in vain as the chance of people wanting to see me rap would be non-existant, even if they didn't know that I have no rapping talent. none, none at all. And I mean zero, nada, zilch, zippo. I'll stop with that now. Actually, I'll stop with everything. That'll show you!
And with that I must say I heart Jeeves, not a person, just the name. That and my balls. if you don't understand, see the previous post.
Speaking of original work, ever wonder why some rappers get credit for originality or talent when they don't have either. Particularly, Puff Daddy or P. Diddy, or I like using the letter P cause I think I make me cooler. I mean really, the man's name is Sean Combs. How the hell did that become Puffy? Did he do too many drugs and he was known for his puffy eyes? Or was it the fact that he seems to love fur coats that are 20000 layers thick and 4 sizes too big? I mean, that would make me puffy, I know that for sure. And why don't non-rappers get these kind of nicknames?
The really cool nicknames have been dominated by the rappers: Jay-Z, Eminem, Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre. These are quality names. Still my favorite is DJ Jazzy Jeff. It's just fun to say, tons of fun i think. Try it out...doesn't that alliteration just roll of the tounge? Now try it in a southern accent, it comes more like Deeeeee-Jaaay Jayzey Jayff. Goes from 5 syllables to somewhere between 8 and 15. But that still brings up the question why? Is it because names like Sean Combs and Marshall Mathers just aren't "hard" enough? I would name other rappers by real name, but I don't know any, sorry.
So going back to what I was saying, a mixture of why? and why not other musicians? I can see Joshua Bell coming out to dropped lights, a fog machine, some strobe lights, dancers and a big screen flashing "J-Bell" over and over as he gets on stage. Then some beautiful woman bringing him his violin as he stands front and center. Ok, so that's not too cool. How about Diana Krall? She could go by Special K, sit behind the piano and in that hardcore kind of way, start singing the old jazz classics. Maybe I just answered my own question as to why the other artists don't have those nicknames, but it still leaves the question as to why they have such cool ones.
I really want to know if someone named Brody, Chauncey, Bret, something super-anglo, could make it as a rapper. I'm not saying they'd have to white too, just have one of those "hello, i'm the butler, (insert name here)" kind of names. And that would be great, if all butlers had to have those kind of names. I really would have to get one just for the purpose of waking up each day and saying "morning Jeeves." And it's ok, you can admit it, if you were hiring a butler, you would name him jeeves too. Did I just say name him? I meant get one named. But then again if you hired the guy, you might want one cool enough that they would let you name them, and of all names, Jeeves. That name is pretty sweet though. Maybe that'll be my rapper name.
One day, you'll see it, DJ Jeevesy Jones. I think that's what I really want to be. A rapper. Ok and going back, yeah, my name isn't Jones, but then again, it's closer to reality than Puff Daddy. Have you ever met someone named Puffy? That's what I thought. Now, how about jones? That you have. So it's feasible. And I know i'm white, and not just white, but WHITE. So this would all be in vain as the chance of people wanting to see me rap would be non-existant, even if they didn't know that I have no rapping talent. none, none at all. And I mean zero, nada, zilch, zippo. I'll stop with that now. Actually, I'll stop with everything. That'll show you!
And with that I must say I heart Jeeves, not a person, just the name. That and my balls. if you don't understand, see the previous post.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Here's Johnny!
So, It's official, I'm back. Well, maybe not consistently, but I am for now. That should be good enough for all of you, but if it isn't...Piss off!! Well, don't. Stay and read. Then you can piss off, cause by then I've already sucked you in and your mind is mine for the taking (insert evil laugh here). But seriously, I'm writing this since something dire has come to mind. It's a tragedy, and by now, most of you have heard about it I'm sure. No marathon can fix it, as often happens with natural disasters. But alas, this is not a natural disaster, but more one of my own making. What is it you ask? I shall enlighten you below.
As most of you would notice, I am in fact male. Being male, that means two things. First, I love to eat. But that is not what is on my mind. Second, and more obvious, I love boobies (to be hereafter referred to as either boobs, breasts, breastecies, or bajongajongs). Now, it came to mind that in all my posts I have talked about every subject imaginable. I have talked politics (or just simple smear campaigns), cartoons, cereal, heck you name the subject I've at least considered it. But to this time, not boobs. And this is something I want to figure out why. As I mentioned with this whole male thing, breasts are constantly on my mind. If I'm not wondering about whose I want to see, then I'm actually attempting to see someone's. I hope girls don't take this as shallow, it's just male. I like boobs, plain and simple. Even gay guys like them, you can ask 'em, they'll tell you.
They're really quite this entrancing thing to us. We're kinda like "wow, I don't have those. I wonder why not? I must know what it would be like to have my own. But that's not fun, I can just assume if I had them, I would play with them and look at them. So here goes nothing, I'll just play with and look at them and that will make me happy." Or it's some approximation of this. And going back to those names I had earlier. I'll straighten it out for any of the female population that doesn't get them. We do in fact use those names for them. Not exclusively those. But I tend to use those most often. Tits was left out for good reason. I feel a little dirty when I say the word. I mean, in public I can't exactly say "she's got nice tits." I'd get looked at funny. But if I say "how about those bajongajongs?" well, people disregard it as a foreign language.
Anyway, this all came to mind due to the travesty that I was trying to mention earlier. This being the total lack of breastecies in my life over the past, oh let's shoot with.....2 years. So this lack of boobage has seriously affected my outlook on life. I think everyday seems gloomier than the last since it's just been that much longer since the last time I got to pull a Bronsky. Ahh, bronsky, my old friend. But getting back to the point. I think they should hold a telethon for me. I don't want stripper boobs, or prostitute breasts, that's not cool. I want some wholly original, actually wanting to be there boobs. Now that would seriously make my day.
But my days seem fine. Sure each one is gloomier, etc. However, I am a generally happy person as most of you know. So in all truth, when days get gloomier, it's really just been a slow downhill trend from incredibly upbeat to rather bemused. I think all it will take is just one moment of marvelousness and i'll be back to the ray of sunshine you know me to be.
On an entirely different note, I realized some of my recent posts sucked. Well this was due to lack of inspiration. For this I blame the world for not being nearly funny enough. I mean really, did you read some of the crap I've written since I got back from Europe? It really really really sucked. On a scale of one to crapola, it was an easy -15. This was the shitty of the shitty. But I feel I'm back to Old form, rambling incessantly (did i spell that right?), feeling mighty sexy, and on top of it all, i realized that my goal in life is to actually cause a death by laughter. I hope this gets the chuckle needed to start that. One day, there will be a man found holding on to his balls, dead in a chair, in front of my blog. Why his balls? Simple, if a man feels his life or well-being may be in danger, he protects what is most precious to him. Some may say it's their family, friends, possesions, but undeniably, it's his balls. If i was gonna die, i know that all i would worry about would be my balls, maybe the penis too. Possibly want to make sure nothing goes in my ass, cause that would suck. But main concern here would have to be the genitalia. I mean we call them the family jewels, but really, I would sooner give up jewels than those puppies. Fuck there are three things in this world money can't buy, Love, my right nut and my left nut. Simple as that end of story. Let me just remind everyone that I love my balls and boobs. That was the point of this whole post. Hope you enjoyed it, I know I did. And if i'm found dead one day and I'm not clutching my balls, would someone do me a favor, find this blog and post the word "Hypocrite" on here.
Thank you, Come again!
As most of you would notice, I am in fact male. Being male, that means two things. First, I love to eat. But that is not what is on my mind. Second, and more obvious, I love boobies (to be hereafter referred to as either boobs, breasts, breastecies, or bajongajongs). Now, it came to mind that in all my posts I have talked about every subject imaginable. I have talked politics (or just simple smear campaigns), cartoons, cereal, heck you name the subject I've at least considered it. But to this time, not boobs. And this is something I want to figure out why. As I mentioned with this whole male thing, breasts are constantly on my mind. If I'm not wondering about whose I want to see, then I'm actually attempting to see someone's. I hope girls don't take this as shallow, it's just male. I like boobs, plain and simple. Even gay guys like them, you can ask 'em, they'll tell you.
They're really quite this entrancing thing to us. We're kinda like "wow, I don't have those. I wonder why not? I must know what it would be like to have my own. But that's not fun, I can just assume if I had them, I would play with them and look at them. So here goes nothing, I'll just play with and look at them and that will make me happy." Or it's some approximation of this. And going back to those names I had earlier. I'll straighten it out for any of the female population that doesn't get them. We do in fact use those names for them. Not exclusively those. But I tend to use those most often. Tits was left out for good reason. I feel a little dirty when I say the word. I mean, in public I can't exactly say "she's got nice tits." I'd get looked at funny. But if I say "how about those bajongajongs?" well, people disregard it as a foreign language.
Anyway, this all came to mind due to the travesty that I was trying to mention earlier. This being the total lack of breastecies in my life over the past, oh let's shoot with.....2 years. So this lack of boobage has seriously affected my outlook on life. I think everyday seems gloomier than the last since it's just been that much longer since the last time I got to pull a Bronsky. Ahh, bronsky, my old friend. But getting back to the point. I think they should hold a telethon for me. I don't want stripper boobs, or prostitute breasts, that's not cool. I want some wholly original, actually wanting to be there boobs. Now that would seriously make my day.
But my days seem fine. Sure each one is gloomier, etc. However, I am a generally happy person as most of you know. So in all truth, when days get gloomier, it's really just been a slow downhill trend from incredibly upbeat to rather bemused. I think all it will take is just one moment of marvelousness and i'll be back to the ray of sunshine you know me to be.
On an entirely different note, I realized some of my recent posts sucked. Well this was due to lack of inspiration. For this I blame the world for not being nearly funny enough. I mean really, did you read some of the crap I've written since I got back from Europe? It really really really sucked. On a scale of one to crapola, it was an easy -15. This was the shitty of the shitty. But I feel I'm back to Old form, rambling incessantly (did i spell that right?), feeling mighty sexy, and on top of it all, i realized that my goal in life is to actually cause a death by laughter. I hope this gets the chuckle needed to start that. One day, there will be a man found holding on to his balls, dead in a chair, in front of my blog. Why his balls? Simple, if a man feels his life or well-being may be in danger, he protects what is most precious to him. Some may say it's their family, friends, possesions, but undeniably, it's his balls. If i was gonna die, i know that all i would worry about would be my balls, maybe the penis too. Possibly want to make sure nothing goes in my ass, cause that would suck. But main concern here would have to be the genitalia. I mean we call them the family jewels, but really, I would sooner give up jewels than those puppies. Fuck there are three things in this world money can't buy, Love, my right nut and my left nut. Simple as that end of story. Let me just remind everyone that I love my balls and boobs. That was the point of this whole post. Hope you enjoyed it, I know I did. And if i'm found dead one day and I'm not clutching my balls, would someone do me a favor, find this blog and post the word "Hypocrite" on here.
Thank you, Come again!
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Politics....and this time with a less biased filling
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