Seriously... Don't look at it

.

You know when something says don't look at it, it is going to be good. Hat's off to this puddle of murky perversion for his voyeuristic version of a retarded ginger superhero... I can only imagine the hours it took to carefully render each 4 inch follicle of radish pubic hair and create this glistening bag of smashed assholes.... You are one sick f*ck.

Hauling a lot of ass

"I can never remember which left to take... God Damn! What smells like a honey roasted ham?"

Nyte Vision

Look, I made a lot of mistakes in 2010... Perhaps I was a bit too lazy, a bit too cynical. Maybe I need to eat less and exercise more... But let me introduce you to my biggest mistake of 2010... Never giving proper dues to the incredibly charismatic Mr. James Nyte.

I can't understand a fucking word he said, but we all know it is the thought that counts... and I could not think of a better way to start my new year than enjoying the harmoniously sweet refrains of Mr. Nytes heartpouring ballad... Easily the best 6 minutes of 2011.

I find this all incredibly inspiring. Although the words may be as distinguishable as his impeccable tattoo choices depicting the 2010 BP oil spill.  His song and look is inescapably catchy and his message is crystal clear.... Kind of.... Well, in a meth induced, autotuned sort of way....  Either way it has me screaming,"I want to be like James Nyte."
 
Think about it... Minus the Tim Mcgraw meets cocaine vibe, this mother fucker is totally content with 3 chords, a fresh patch of milk weeds, a blanket booster seat and a few sparkle effects. Of everything on earth, this guy is telling us that THIS is what he thinks is the shit.... Damn, I wish I was so easily content... How much cooler would life be if all I needed was a dew rag, a gravity defying Casio, and a rat tail of amphetamines the size of fucking jump rope?...
Instead I have wasted my time with the trivial things in life such as dental care, sleeves, and sobriety. Starting today, I am going to scratch all of my benign resolutions for the new year and simply live by a new set of rules. I will see the world in a new way.... A simple new resolution I call "Nyte Vision".

Any guy who's only distinguishable line is "All's I know..." is all's right with me... Truly inspirational, James. You've got me so motivated about this au courant outlook on things, that I too am going to have to tightly tie a shirt around my waist to hide how excitedly stimulated I am about the fresh new year.

Like a dream come true.

New ringtone for work calls

WTF is this.... I don't know if this is real or not but who gives a rat's ass... it will emancipate you from the bonds of a shitty day, and make you laugh for at least the next 100 years....

However, it did make my conscience play a torturous game of North and South over whether I should laugh or not.

Technically, I don't know if the Parthenon was built by slaves, or the pyramids, or America for that matter.... However, if we look at what this culture's major contribution has been to American society, We've got Hip hop, Jazz, and Blues.....
So I think they will be very appreciative and find it very fitting, that we finally make reparations with a song...
Raw deal?.... O.k., we'll throw in a president.

Look at it this way, at least you're not a fucking slave.

Charitable Heartbreak

"Sometimes it's hard to go on and keep those smiles?"
Something tells me this bouncing little butterball is really heartbroken over his dad. In fact they all look incredibely and hopelessly "lost in the grief".

How fitting is it that WalMart is sponsoring this festive little charity project. I'm sure that coerces a big boned smile from their swollen grief stricken faces.

Do we really need to be giving this family food for the holidays?  Just a guess, but it looks like they had a hell of a thanksgiving feast.... Are those f*cking cookie tins? Really? Cookies and Video games?.. I love that the girl just lost her dad and the only tears I see, are the tears of joy as she holds a can full of soft batch hand picked pasteries.
How about a fucking treadmill..... Gym pass.... some dance lessons....  some Crystal Meth?
You know, a little amphetamine addiction might not only help them drop a few hundred pounds but it might also help them cope with the incredibly inconsolable sadness of losing their father...Three husky birds with one rock... or stoned.

Instead, I love that we are feeding this butter bird family of stuffed turkeys with the very addiction that is going to finally choke off their mother's aorta 3 weeks into January, and leave them as fucking orphans. I guess it's only fitting that this generous publicity stunt is named, "getting to the heart of Christmas". Marketing genius.. Great idea Walmart..... Let me thank you in advance for leaving me, and the rest of America, to pick up the burdening years of premium healthcare costs, and PTSD therapy that your fucking gold star family will require for the next 30+ years.

I can't wait for the ultimate slap in the face when a big pine box, draped in a flag and the words "Cpt. Kasey Roberts" on it arrives at the house....and our burly little ballerina dances passed it and amorously hugs the pallette box next to it, just dropped off by Walmart, wrapped in celophane and that says,"Jimmy Dean"....

Merry F*cking Christmas.... sausage lovers.

Sometimes it is just too easy

A while ago I posted a link for anyone looking for something to fill some time in a long day. Today is the same concept... Here is a screenshot example from a time killing personal favorite, that is always guaranteed fun... If you're ever needing a devious laugh and feel like your going to hell anyway... give it a try.

Mormon.org... It's kind of like fishing with dynamite... a bit unfair, but still funny as hell.



click pic to enlarge

Hands up, who's crazy

At exactly what point in life do you realize you are genetically destined to be a f*cking hand model?  It's got to be fairly early, at least in this case, because it came at the cost of developing any social skills and has retarded all awareness of the world around her... leaving this mess looking like a remedial 2 month old that is just discovering her hands again every 30 seconds.

A+ to the news producer who brought this crazy bitch in for the eye to eye interview... It's too bad her eyes never see the f*cking camera... She might not be looking but we all giggled watching her play an erotically orgasmic game of air cat's cradle... I've never seen a girl more into a set of fingers, it's like a lesbian watching porn.

Seriously, put your f*cking hands down...  Your hands don't "emanate and radiate good health and care" just because you've got them stuffed in a pair of gloves or your crotch all day...  I knew a boy who lived in a bubble once and he was definitely not a goddamn picture of health....
Exactly who does do the mondaine things in this girls life? Because the mondain things for her might be a nightmare for me... The shit goes both ways, Susan... Here's an example... for me, wiping my ass is extremely mondaine.... but because this mondaine task is a complete nightmare for you, your poor personal hygine also becomes a tragically disgusting nightmare for me... While you think your fantastically fickle phalanges express a healthy glow, your personality and shitty situation radiates compulsively neurotic sickness...

Here's another one that is going to break your heart.. unless you have just pulled them out of a vat of paint, basically everyone's hands are a neutral tone.

It's true Ellen, I am in awe. Not because you can make a living off of 5 inches. Believe me, I know a lot of guys back in college who made a full time living on much less... Old news... I'm in awe because someone has let you get away with no cooking, no cleaning, no opening cans or doors.... It's kind of ironic that everyone wants to take our subpar meager little hands and bitchslap you right in your finger fetish f*cking smile. We are not falling for it.

I'm just going to go out on a limb here and say, there is definitely no man in your life....and no, it is not because of your overly selfish and lazy demeanor. It's your face... or your greasy wet look perm... but this Laura Ingalls Wilder act you've going isn't doing shit for your situation. Perhaps you should take a few minutes away from your hands and spend sometime on your fucking grill, it's about as repulsive as your personality. Thank god your a hand model.

May i suggest that it is about time you discovered another body part?.... It's called a vagina. Just a guess but when you figure out what it is, you may just forget about those fingers all together... at least 8 or 9 of them.

Baby steps..... If we work on this a bit who knows, you may find some guy who would be fine with opening your cans, turning your pages, and wiping your ass..... After all, it could be a dream come true for him... think about it... He would never have to talk to you... He could always be the one to work the remote... He could take your hard earned cash every time in cards because you always believe you have the best hand... And you are definitely the only girl who could have a multiple old faithful doublebarrel squirtfest just by watching yourself give a hand job.

My American Dancing Rock Band Idol

O.k.. He doesn't look like much of a sports fan or Bon Jovi fan..... So I'm guessing after watching her son spent two straight months in the basement playing video games, she finally took the company Celtic's tickets as a last ditch effort to get this recluse little wallflower out of the house.
You know when you first see him there is no interest in basketball, or social interaction period... He is day dreaming of casting spells and shit.... And then it hits him... You can physically see his brain recognize that after spending countless solitary hours playing rock band solos, this is the moment he has been dreaming up in his head for years....  Always accused by his mom of never taking initiative, and never applying himself, this kid just grabbed the bull by the horns, stuck his tongue down it's throat, and made that arena his bitch....
I'm glad she had a front row seat.....

Seriously could not get any better. Well, unless he snatched one of those frazzled females for a brief makeout, drank her beer, then dropped her on the fatty in row 9, who is just pissed his tuba career is over, and never turned out this well.

Good for this kid.... and good for his mom..... and good luck to his mom getting him out of the basement, with that "video games are colossal waste of time and will never get you anywhere" speech ever again.... Ever.

Like f*cking clockwork.....

Anyone who has read my past posts should know how I feel about Samurai swords, and the people who own them.... If not, here is a Math lesson

I've included the following article from today's news.... and you do the F*cking math.

Living with Mom.... Check

36" Katana.....Check

I bet this f*cker was wearing jean shorts when the police found him.

It is Universal Law..... Proof is in the pumpkin f*cking pudding... Happy Thanksgiving mom!

I'm gonna need that pancake recipe

While not tied to any political party, sometimes I watch, or read things concerning the economic and political turmoil in Washington today... I, like most Americans, often wonder, "how the hell did this guy get elected?"...... Or, "who was it that voted for these people?".

And then I see things like this.....


As you may know from past posts I have a weakness for fine art...  a connoisseur of sorts... here are a few samples from the astounding artist Dan Lacey who calls himself  "The painter of pancakes".... Sounds fucked up?........ You're right.

Whatever this guy is eating, or smoking... I'm sure it is medicinal... and I want the recipe.

Click the here to see more



Because who hasn't dreamed of a hot oil rub from a horned democrat gay steed?... Especially while sipping a blended drink from a coconut, on the beaches of an active volcano. If you say not me, you probably don't believe in socialized medicine either.. HaHaHa



Is that a black man riding a Confederate horse? or does American Airlines really have pilot uniforms for Unicorns? and Why the hell would a nuclear fallout destroy clothes for all humans, but not for 4 legged galloping mythological mustangs?



Unicorn vs. Moose.... great.....  but, what the fuck is up with that Alaskan vagina?






Although incredibly savvy when it comes to politics and flat breads, Dan does not limit himself as an artist or person. He takes on other controversial subjects such as religion and current pop culture....

That's weird! I too like to picture Jesus wearing a sequin glove, resurrecting a black Michael Jackson.

Fucking Awesome!

I picture Lord baby Jesus wearing an Old Navy Pullover

Is it just me or does anyone else want to punch this kid square in his growing little freckled nose? Sorry Burpo, but even if I thought your story was even remotely true, I would still tell you to f*ck off just because of your irritatingly pretentious personality... Colton fucking Burpo??? Seriously. Wasn't this kid just on TV, taking a ride in a balloon?

Look, I'm not in the business of calling little kids liars, but this kid is a fucking fraud half full of dog shit.... And his parents are full of holy shit as well... Now, Todd... I appreciate all of the countless hours you and the little Re-Todd spent rehearsing, but those ambigiously detailed descriptions are a little bit suspect. Not to mention the fact that your 4 year old just wrote a f*cking book, when he can't even read the cue cards his mom is holding up over there.... Somewhere between the sea blue eyes, world lighting smile, and colossally large hands, you lost me....

I'm not sure who is taking advantage of who here... Is it the boy, who has figured out that using the phrase, "I saw Jesus" and a short story, can get him out of any trouble with his miracle seeking parents?.....  Is it the parents who have discovered the miracle that using the phrase, "I saw Jesus"... sells fucking books?...... Or, is it the news producer that who knows that the phrase,"I saw Jesus".. makes for incredibly amusing news material, and the paradisaical joke is on us?

While I do appreciate the sell job from the overly intrigued news caster, I just don't think she is really THAT excited about Jesus.. So, I'd probably vote for this enterprising father for "dad of the year".... Think about it. If I had a smug little shit of a son, who thought he could have me in his back pocket by feeding me full of inspirational bullshit. I too would play his little game and do exactly what Todd did....
First, I would take him somewhere really special, like Old Navy, and get some classy new quarter zip pullovers. Then, I'd schedule an urgent breaking news spot for us to make a national television debut. Together, unified in fleece, that little f*cker could ruin his own adolesence by telling the whole world how he had angels sing to him as he talked with a dead baby fetus, played catch with young grandpa, and took a unicorn ride with Hitler.

Good for daddy... This parapsychological patriarch, however, took it a step further, and when his wife was so gullibley awe struck at her priggish little miracle, he had her, under the creative direction of her 4 year old, write a future best seller.... Then got a free sales pitch on public television.

Truly inspired... Even St. John the baptist would put his hand up to the square, for a high five on that one...

Look, Todd..... I wouldn't want to hear this story if you told it to me for FREE at some holiday party this week.... The fact that you want $19.99 for some half cocked horseshit your son came up with, to get out of being disciplined, is degrading.... But something tells me, There are enough people down on their luck, or who will pay their last $20, grasping for some brief reassurance, only given to them by a fictional story of a 4 year old playing red rover with Michael Jackson and the son of god...
Great f*cking plan, and I'm sure you will be chuckling all the way to the bank.

Looks like Todd got the last laugh.... Or did he?...

Here's where the story gets really F'd up.... you know, when this dad is on his deathbed, his then grown, swarthy little son, Colton, will finally get his revenge for this childhood destroying news story. When he gets really close to Todd's frail ear and revealingly whispers his long held secret,"Yaaaa, you know that whole heaven is for real thing I told you about?... I was just fucking with ya."

Hey Burpo... You and your boy are both still very sick.... I think you both are ReTodds.

I believe it's called a mash up...

O.K. so I am an asshole, we've established that... Here is a tragic, tragic story which for some reason is made incredibly entertaining by the frantic 911 call.... These consistently have me on the edge of my seat... I always wish I could see what is really going on when the horribly terrified individual is panicking on the phone and making absolutely no sense....
So, as a sort of experiment, I grabbed another serious and disturbing current event video, that could aid me in visualizing what is actually taking place on the victim's side of the phone line.

The hypothesis follows the same mathematical law of, 2 negatives equal a positive, or 2 wrongs make a right... If this is true, then i believe these 2 catastrophic events, when combined, will have you exchanging tears of sadness for tears of devious laughter, and for a brief second entertained.... At least until your conscience kicks in... Please participate at your own risk.

Step 1: Before playing the videos, turn the volume up on the top video
Step 2: Turn the volume off, or down, on the bottom video
Step 3: Push play on both videos
Step 4: Watch the bottom video
Step 5: Try not to wet yourself with utter enjoyment and laughter...you asshole.















Ok...ok... you pricks. These videos are not at all related, but each one is shockingly entertaining, and should probably be viewed seperately (with sound)... but you got to admit, it looks awfully close to a feces and food fling feista at the local zoo.... or Denny's.

Sequinthhs in Seattle

Some people make things so much harder than they need to be.. For instance... You know with all the cloudy doom and rainy weather, Seattle is the suicide capital of the U.S..... Why would you add, being a inconsequential spot journalist, doing a story on a sale, at a thrift store....
And not even a good one... Quick... If you are such a talented eyewitness, with an exquisite eye for documenting detail, I want you to quickly tell me exactly how many bracelets this dude was wearing??? Seriousthhhhly.

The way I see it, the frumpy gap toothed beat reporter had it coming.... Here she is, asking painfully obvious questions and shoving a microphone in the willing mouth of an overstimulated sparkle queen, at the check stand of a "designer" sale.... Am I the only one who sees this as a recipe for disaster... I do know it's about time one of these benign, time waste stories climbed up and bit someone in the ass.... Who knew it would be from the snaggled overbite of this unibrowed Scary Bradshaw...

I don't have a communications degree... but here's some journalism for you. Let's step up the questions .... Need I suggest a few that could be quickly answered by this video spot:
What does a gay recession look like?
What the hell is a 32 year old gay man doing dressed as a 14 year old Bosnian rec league basketball player?
What would happen if Ross the intern and Perez Hilton had a love child?

While the newscaster didn't impress me. The truth is Mr. Sparkle's lispy reply will be stuck in my head all day... I'm no TV producer, but I play one on my blog from time to time... If you know this dude, have him give me a call.  It just so happens that I heard of an opening which I think would be right up this guys alley (not like that)... It involves performance, countless costumes, lots of smiles, a few sequins.... and I know he will like this.... Plenty of ass... only problem is, he might have to clean up the language for the audience.  I Think it's the perfect fit, given his extremely animated nature..

Sorry news team... I think the more tragic story for today in the Northwest would be, "If you are a gay man in Seattle... it's time to move".... However, I've got a terrific idea for a follow up story... How about in 2 weeks we find our fabulously flamboyant fruitbasket and see how excited he is, after he tries to get semen out of all those fucking Theeequinths.

Man says he was forced to eat beard

You know this shit is going to be good as soon as you see this oversized fifth grader's head squeezed into that tiny hat adorned with a confederate stripper... Truly southern style....."When I get thur, I realize they is already drunk"...... Is anyone in Kentucky not drunk? I'm pretty sure that 85% of the commonwealth residents have a homemade backwoods whiskey still bubbling high octane moonshine straight into an IV...

Seriously, a $20 lawn mower? Who is the dipshit here?.... The two ton savvy shopper that ate his own beard? The dumbasses that thought pulling a gun on a 400lb. legally blind walrus, and feeding him his own facial hair was some sort of punishment?.... or once again a pathetic team of news reporters, who put a $20 lawnmower as their breaking prime time story?... Especially when this shit happened in May of last year.

I don't know which part made me laugh harder, when the 'big boned bluegrasser' descriptively explains, with precise detail, exactly what happened, "One thing led to another... Before I Know'd it, there were Knaaves and guuuns, erythang just went haywire."........or the look on his face as he explains the horrible torture he experienced, "They cut my beard and forced me..... to eat it. "....  I could listen to that shit all day.

How the hell does he say that with a straight face? and, Why is it so funny to here him describe eating something? If you wanted to terrify this dude, take his lawnmower and tell him he has to run the 3 miles to your house to come and get it.... Tell him the Popeye's chicken next to the Gas 'n Go burned down.... but don't tell this f*cker he has to eat something... Just throwing it out there, but I'm guessing that husky Harvey has eaten things 10x's more terrifying than his own fucking beard.

Everyone involved in this story deserves a backwards, sister lovin, red-neck slap on the ass..... But if you really wanted to see all of them torturously shit down both legs before they'all know'd it..... Tell them Kentucky was in fact, NOT a confederate state, but a border state, and never left the union...
Northern Style. Bitch.

Monday motivation

Right from the incredibly descriptive title and heart felt message, this one has been pulling at my heart strings all morning...

Let me tell you a few things Alexis... Your dad named you "Alex" as a compromise... For 9 long months he waited with his fingers crossed for an genetically gifted, athletic, super sperm of a boy, to redeem him from the torment of his 24 year lack of athletic accomplishments... While he may have been forced to give in on your gender.. You are forever destined to shitty tag lines, adrenaline rousing pep talks, and inspirational films like his latest gutsy masterpiece, "Alexis courage."
 
This brings up our next point.... Courage?....Sounds like a bold compliment given to a awe inspiring performance... Courageous?... Really? I know your dad always says, "Always give 110%".... and I don't even have to explain how that is physiologically and mathematically impossible. However, the way I see it, there were 10 hurdles, you made it over 3.... tragically tripped over 5.... slightly tapped another.... and said fuck off to the one in the middle... Do we really have to do the math, to know that someone didn't give it 100%?.... Since your father was so consumed by tearfully watching his Olympic spotlight dreams slip away with your knock out performance, let me be the asshole to point out a few important details..... First, you never even finished the race..... you missed a fucking hurdle. Shouldn't a courageous achievement maybe involve finishing the race?  How the hell do you "courageously" run AROUND a hurdle, voluntarily?... Isn't that the GD point of the event? I'm no track and field expert but I think you are pretty much disqualified at that point.

Listen up Flo Jo... Here is the biggest tip of your young athletic career..... Anytime the word Courage is used after a Jr. High sporting event, it is NOT a good sign... Sure it's soothing, but let me translate what your parents really mean:

"We don't know what else to say to you because we are utterly agape, and dumbfounded, at how embarrassingly inept you just looked. Just like every one of the 23 other people at the track meet, we never, ever, want to witness another astonishingly miserable performance like the baby calf disaster in lane #1. We are just afraid that if we tell you the truth, you will destructively shrivel into a socially retarded stage crew groupy. Who will fall for the first guy in a trench coat, that pays you the slightest bit of attention. It's only because he needs a get-away driver as the final piece in his master plan to turn the middle school into a shooting gallery. After countless hours and thousands of dollars in therapy and antidepressants, you will end up living in our basement with a herd of fucked up looking cats. Only leaving the house twice a year for a Renaissance festival at the local park. Just counting the days until we die, so you and your feline followers can spend what remains of our meager family fortune on hot pockets and fancy feast. Gradually you will fill our house with feces covered news papers, half open cans and moldy pizza boxes until you are confined to one room that smells like cat urine mixed with what ever the fuck that smell is trapped under the second flesh roll above your knee. Forever destined to swell bigger and bigger, until the bedsheets you cried yourself to sleep in as an awkwardly galloping teen don't fit anymore as an improvised skirt, and the only exercise you get is swatting the flies that are collecting in your bed sores..."

....Come to think of it, maybe it is just easier to say, "Alexis Courage".

Sometimes failure is fatal... And the courage to continue actually doesn't mean shit.... Ask your dad how these sayings have worked out for him... Here he is, in his track suit, part timing junior high school highlight videos on his home computer, inserting floating text of stale inspirational bread crumbs and the same music track that he chose 20+ years ago for his incredible football highlight tape...

Ironically, maybe daddy is the one who needs a little courage.... and valiantly come to grips with the reality that there is no amount of annoyingly inspirational phrases and shitty late 80's rock music that can make up for sub par genetic contributions and lack of overall talent... Sometimes you just need to know when to let go.... Although you are a Dick, and probably named Rick.... You are not "Team Hoyt"...Quit the f*cking race. Time to move on.

Miracle my lucky ass.

Check out the headline of this touching story I read today on the UK's Telegraph newspaper site....


"US housewife has children on 10.10.10, 09.09.09 and 08.08.08"

A Michigan housewife is celebrating the birth of her daughter Cearra on 10.10.10.

Quote:
'Despite the neat pattern of their children's birthdays, the Sopers insist it was not planned. It follows the birth of her son on 09.09.09 and her other daughter on 08.08.08, at the odds of 50 million to one. Barbara Soper, 36, said: 'She's our own little miracle.'"


'Mother Barbara Soper, 36, described Cearra as a ‘little miracle’, adding: ‘Chloe is lucky number eight, Cameron is lucky number nine and she is our lucky number ten.’




Enough of this lucky miracle bullshit....  Barbara, you've got me little confused... What the fuck is so lucky about the number 8?..... There is nothing miraculous about the number 9...... and let's have a closer look at your "50 million to one" gushing miracle of a baby, lucky #10.

First of all, that little girl is NOT lucky... You named her f*cking Cearra. Do you even know what the first day of school is going to be like for the first 18 years of that unlucky little miracle's existence?.... "No...no... with a capital C, and an E... no I's... an A... double R and just an A.... you know, like that singer, but with a totally fucked up, uber edgy spelling." ........ Cearra, UhhhhhHuuuhhhHHH.

One thing for sure, she'll be a helluva "speller". Hopefully, this will compensate for her below average math skills.... Let's take a look at what you are teaching your little "50mil" right from the gate... 50 million to one? really? How do the odds makers account for the fact that you scheduled an induction nearly a full month before your little miracle's actual due date?

Quote:
'Soper says she and her husband had thought it would be "neat" if their third child was born on 10-10-10 but because her due date wasn't until Nov. 4, it seemed unlikely'.....


'....The induction was begun on 10-9-10, but it wasn't until 6:53 on Sunday night, 10-10-10, that Cearra Nicole Soper arrived. Despite being three weeks early, "she's feeding well," says mom. "She's a trooper."

I don't know about you, but when it comes to voluntarily inducing a birth with medicine, it tends to take all of the fun out of the miracle, for me.... Unless that obstetrician made that Pitocin out of wine, or the water he just manually broke, I don't see the f*cking miracle.

Ok...ok... Maybe that's a little harsh. I guess we could all look past this, and just call it perhaps a little selfish... but after I learned that your second baby was also strategically robbed from the womb dangerously early, you just went from a bit selfish to a maternally greedy attention whore.... Do we really need to revisit the newspaper quote about 'the Sopers insist this was not planned'? I hear what your saying.... It just sounds more like someone is using some embellished numbers and a scientifically engineered miracle, to pull a few heart strings in hopes of a dream shot at a sappy spotlight show on TLC. Sorry, but "Barbara and Chad plus 8,..9,..&10" doesn't add up... Not the same ring to it.... Maybe it's the math... or the task of rhyming anything with fucking Barbara.

Sorry to kill a dream... But, Personally I think the fuzzy math and the general lack of interest shoots the TV show option down. Unless there is some kind of twist.... I'm no TV producer but I'm just going to throw this one out there.... I thought of the uncanny resemblance when I first saw your pic, but brushed it off as fantasy.... Well, until I read your story...

Gotta say, it's catchy, universal, and could explain a lot of questionable time lines. Well, that, and it is probably more believable than your "miracle".

Here is some math that might work... The gestation rate of a wookie is only 30 weeks... or 210 days.... Why would I know that? Because I googled it, and somewhere out there exists someone who is just as pathetically crazy as you are, and knows the full term pregnancy schedule of a exogalactic biped mammal.

I know you love numbers, so pay attention to those.... The shorter pregnancy stats will definitely come in handy if the auditor comes knocking, and asks why you, and your "responsible" healthprovider, fraudulently gambled a precarious induction and 50 million to one odds.... at the risk of over $500,000.00, (or roughly the cost it would take to hold your baby in the ICU for damn near a month) just so you could have your F'n miracle... Smells like insurance fraud to me... or the matted dred on the balmy crotch of a 7' pregnant space monkey..... I imagine they both smell about the same.

The good news is, I believe your situation would be covered under the new Obama healthcare reform.... And who can get mad at the universal love story of an undocumented alien, living in this country, without a job, without insurance, on Medicaid, and who just hung the tax paying American public out to pick up the check for their 3rd baby... Finally a TV show this country can relate to...I think we are onto something.

You might say,"That is ridiculous! Wookies don't even exist in this world!".....
Let me tell you something else that can't exist.... A Vagina, after 3 kids in 26 months. So, while your story might be touching as somewhat of a pseudo unique situation.... We are all grossed out and convinced that the true miracle is that your husband is still willing to have sex with you. Even when it feels just like he is sticking his dick in his f*cking baseball hat.... Go Tigers.

WTF should I do today?

Ever have one of those days?..... Ya, me neither.

But if I did have a day when I didn't have the foggiest flying f*ck of an idea of what I was going to do, I would probably visit this website. It is an abundance of exquisitely ingenious suggestions regarding things that could tactfully fill your time.
In fact..... this is probably WTF you should do today.

http://www.wtfshouldidotoday.com/

Racist apple pricks

Kudos to Apple for coming up with countless cutting edge applications for today's melting pot of global human ideas... However I think they may have overlooked something.. or are they trying to just have a good laugh at the expense of the dialectically challenged consumer?

Here is an example of the cold hearted humor of the Macintosh programmers... She was just a hard working foreigner who had the good idea of multitasking a heart felt advice chat while finishing up the clear coat on the last "mani-pedi" session of the day.... The bad idea was trying to use the hands free voice recognition option of a bigoted Apple product.

Azzhowlesz.



Mmmmm crabmeat

God bless Craigslist. Not only a useful tool for the everyday person... but it has provided an window into worlds I never would have guessed existed, nor could I even imagine... All of this, of course, provides the rest of the world with an endless cache of priceless entertainment.

Seriously, who could even make shit like this up?...

At first I saw the post and was a bit confused.... Is this guy's name Jo? Is "Jo on rails" a cool engineering nickname he gave himself?.. At first when I read the line about coming over and "Jo" in his model train room I thought it was just a poorly misplaced typo..... It was at that point I realized 2 things:
1-There is something to this "jo" expression, and
2- I was naively behind the times when it came to contemporary pornographic acronyms. The dude is probably named something more like "J"ACK... and this M*therf*cker is definitely "O"FF the rails.

Gotta hand it to the guy.... sorry...Ahhh.... gotta give this guy credit. He's ambitious, open minded, and definitely knows exactly what he likes...

Seriously, what series of tragic ingredients where all mixed together to make this guys fucked up soup d'jour?... This is either the most arbitrary mix of fetish seeking ideas, or Jack is some sort of fucking precision savant who could re site the phone book, but needs a HO scaled locomotive engine playing a game of "I think I can" up his rectum to get him started.

If I had to guess, I'd say ol' Jack isn't the laser focused type. I think he's got more of a shotgun approach to life. What makes me say that Jo Jack is grasping at proverbial straws?....
Let's look at a few of the cryptic clues: Maybe it's the confusion about having a homoerotic Godzilla blow his hot oversized lizard load all over the poor kids train set without hurting it..... Maybe it's the fact that Jack tends to aimlessly buy extraneous quantities of seafood without discretion.... The fact that Jack has sons in the first place, and is STILL asking some 70 year old male to come over for some mutual touching, role play, and quick game of rub and tug all over last year's Christmas gift, suggests that Jack is a bit complicated.

Let me help out and bring a little focus to the situation...
New flash Jack.... You're fucking gay... Maybe not gay in a "rainbow scarf and David Archuletta" kind of way, but more of a "I want to fondle a wrinkly set of hairy balls, with my face" sort of way... Look, I love the fact that you're a man with standards, but I think it may be time to come to grips with it. I really appreciate the invitation....You are one generous son of a bitch, and the truth is, you almost had me at "imitation crab meat"... But the image of being all alone in a house with you, when you just made room in the freezer really freaks me out.

I'm f*cking pumped

Am I pumped? F*ck yeah I'm pumped.
I'm not sure what it is about little people, a web cam and pop music, but it is an incredible mix that never disappoints..... Ever.

Lil' Sean really does take it to the next level... When he utters the words "dance party".... I would bet money the next word in your head sounded like,"YYYYEEEEEEEESSSS!"... maybe even, "HELL YEEEESSS!"
That's how it went for me too... The next thing through my head was the question, "doesn't a party generally involve more than one person, let alone half a person?"

As soon as those shoulders started moving I was hooked and about lost my mind when those arms started going into a "Kahuna double wave special".
Double wave??? Yeah, it's what they call it when your arms are bent back and forth in three different places and then you do the popular 80's dance move "the wave". Seriously, after seeing a waveset of that frequency, I thought the tide was coming in. I kept looking for some strings coming off of those arms because I felt like I was watching a really good puppet show.... either that, or an baby orangutan, every time he pulled off that clap move.... Awesome.

I know he said 3x's a day I need to get my "move on". Homework completed!..  I already watched mini marionette man hit that epileptic freak out to the chorus about 3x's..... and watching Lil'Sean's face as those figurine arms battle the beat, never gets old.
I got to say, he really gets those shoulders and arms moving.... So isn't it about time he starts moving those legs?

Ohhh..
Sean..... Sean...... C'mon now. Damn it... Look, you said YOU would laugh at it yourself. Life is too short.... Ahhh, or brief..... "Life is too brief to get all serious and not have a good time."



Look, he said it. Not me