Scared Bunny

UhOh…my mind is wandering again.

They had sumo wrestling from New York on today. Believe it or not, I like sumo wrestling. Let me amend that. I like Japanese sumo wrestling. It is just much cooler with all the ritual and costumes they have. Plus, the wrestlers are much better there. I like the old guy that is in the ring screaming. I like the way the ring is elevated and made of clay on bales of straw. I like the bizarre rank system and names for techniques that none of us could ever figure out. But most of all, and I never thought I would say this, the wrestlers look better.

For some reason, the fat Japanese wrestlers are not near as nasty as the fat guys that wrestle outside Japan. It’s not an ethnic thing because even the Japanese wrestlers that wrestle outside Japan are nastier. Hell, the nastiest looking guy was Japanese. He had rolls of fat in places I never thought possible. I can’t explain it, but the Japanese wrestlers are bigger and heavier, but they aren’t nearly as nasty. And the non-Japanese had so much body hair. It was almost as if their tactic was to be so repulsive their opponent was afraid to touch them. Watching sumo from Japan, I was able to get used to the giant asses in those big thongs they wear. That would never happen with the wrestlers that were in New York.

And yes, they do wear those freaky thongs, although one gut had the world’s largest pair of compression shorts on under his. And, amazingly, that looked even creepy. Plus I think he had a strip sewn in to kind of hide his asscrack, so it had this big white stripe that made it look like he had some kind of maxipad there just in case there was leakage. It was bad enough seeing all of the asses and cellulite, but making it look like he had to worry about the runs was even more disturbing. That was the guy that made me change the channel.

On a related sports note, to me it just seems tacky to have Louisiana State play the Miami Hurricanes in a bowl game this year.

I have noticed something about IT people at banks. They are miracle workers. I can’t tell you the number of times I have been unable to do something on a bank system and been told that the system is fine. As if by magic, the problem corrects itself just by their words. Interestingly, the words have to come from an IT person though. My boss checked the system for me and said it was fine, and nothing happened. So he called the IT people, explained the problem and they said the system is fine. Miraculously, after he called me to tell me their message, I was, in fact, able to perform the task that has not worked for weeks.

I used to cynically think that the clicking I heard when I called our IT people was them typing as they corrected the problem that they claim didn’t exist. One advised me that, in fact, he was not typing. I think the clicking involved beads he was using in whatever ritual they do before proclaiming the problem does not exist. I am picturing more subdued Benny Hinn thing with “The system is fine” replacing “You are healed”. I think they use prayer beads.

While the BTK killer is an incredibly creepy guy who did some horrible things worthy of the slowest, most painful death possible, I still think it’s funny that he left cereal boxes for cops to find.

Little kids are no fun for New Years Eve. The best you can hope for is a chance to watch them fight to stay awake. I doubt my son even gives a shit. To him the year begins and ends on his birthday. It’s not like he has to put the date on checks or anything. I think his personal record for staying up is a little after 11, so I think he could do it, but I doubt he’ll want to. I will admit that being able to sleep in a little and knowing he’ll be tired the next day for his mom are tempting incentives though.

We get along, but he was awful hyper when I got him on Christmas, and he didn’t calm down all week. I think she deserves a little taste of that. Heaven knows we have some candy and donuts to give him the sugar he’d need. Of course if he were hyper he’d wear my ass out long before midnight. I really don’t need that. I get tired enough anyway. Not that I give a shit about midnight. One day is the same as another when you get down to it. If I were asleep at midnight I wouldn’t care. I’ve seen New Years Eve before. They all seem about the same, unless you are at a cool party.

By the way, the best way to spot the lamest person at a New Years party is that he’ll be the one that points out at midnight that all thoroughbreds just became officially a year older at midnight.

Speaking of midnight, my pillow will turn in to a pumpkin if I neglect it any longer.

OK, before our normal blog entry, I have to say this…I am so glad my parents are gone. When they come they are here for at least a week. By the time they leave my anxiety level is off the chart. There is a reason we live in different time zones. It can take days for me to relax. And, let’s be honest, little kids playing PS2 while you try to work don’t help matters. But, with them gone, things started to get better. Work was going well, my boss was even happy. Then I get a nasty email from a client at 9:30 pm because the gentleman that drafts our letters (that aforementioned boss) generally sucks at it. So this customer thought we were trying to rip him off and had lied to him. That left me forced to make a late night call to an irate customer. That is not good for stress reduction. Now, I was able to calm him down, and I think it ended up getting me the business, but my heart rate may just be back to 80 sometime tomorrow. That is, of course, assuming the phone doesn’t ring, the kids behave, my emails are all friendly…

Ever think maybe going to college was a mistake?

Anyway, I have to say something. With only one exception, I do not call any of the exes by name. We all know that one exception is Heather, the queen of the crazies. I think she’s earned the right to be called by name. Plus, nobody that knows me and knows about this blog knows Heather. If anyone that does know her reads the blog and thinks it’s about her, I’d say that her behavior has made it obvious to them, so it’s kind of hard to feel guilty about that.

But what I was thinking about is this. If someone reads a story where I describe a psycho ex, and they think I am talking about them, exactly how can they justify getting mad? It seems to me that if a woman reads a story about a raging insane bitch and thinks it’s about her, then her behavior gives her some reason to think she may be some sort of raging insane bitch. To me, I would take that as a sign that maybe I need to make some changes in my life. I read a lot of shit on the web. I do not assume that it’s about me just because I happen to read it.

I do know one thing I wouldn’t do. I wouldn’t post comments that my friends would read and figure out who I was if they don’t already know.

I had to say that…sorry.

For the record, the stress level with my parents was not impacted by the fact that, while assisting me with putting up a new ceiling fan, my mother failed to listen when I asked her to turn off a power switch, resulting in me being electrocuted…twice.

You know, I was going to write something else, but I forgot what it was. I could stay up until I remember, or I could sleep. Guess which I choose?

OK, first, I must apologize to those that read early. For some reason Blogger deleted the HTML for the John TV site. I got it fixed, but I know many people read before I noticed. Because of that, many of you missed the joy of seeing a site that is enough to make you either puke or swear off sex. It may even be good enough to do both, but I only swore off sex and got a little queasy.

E-Harmony commercials creep me out. First, let me say there is no such thing as a $50 compatibility profile. I say this because nobody has ever paid for one. They have always been included in the service, so they have always been free. To be worth $50 there would have to be people willing to pay that. They have never found any of these people. I doubt they have even tried. Consider this.

But the creepy part is the people. The old man that runs the place seems like he is trying to build some funky cult based on matching people electronically. I am not sure what his plan is, but I think it may be some Stepford wife thing. But I think it’s Stepford Husbands, because the guys all seem like such pussys. The women just seem off. I can totally see them doing a 180 on the guys after a couple of years when they figure out they are married to men and not fantasies. Of course, I am also very frightened that these people are each other’s fantasies, because they all seem one bad drive-through experience from becoming serial killers.

I have been some really bad online dating experiences, but e-Harmony has always scared even me. To see why I went and looked around. Something about the site made me think the site was full of very bitter women who were looking for some kind of fantasy that doesn’t really exist. I have dated women who have trouble when they realize they are actually dating a human. It’s never fun. For some reason that site just seems to be targeted at that kind of person. They have all these bells and whistles to make the woman think she is going to find the perfect guy if she just logs on. I have news for everyone. There is no perfect guy, just like there is no perfect woman. I don’t care how “compatible” a fucking computer says you are.

I don’t know why, but for some reason the fact that the site claims this incredible level of compatibility based on some test makes it seem even more desperate than a normal personal ad. I mean, normally you browse a little, you find pics you like and you send emails. But there they have a long drawn out process. It’s like saying ‘I give up. I need someone to do this for me.”

Doesn’t help that most of the stories involve people who were so desperate they decided to pursue people nationwide. I am not saying long distance relationships are bad, or that I wouldn’t have one, but I live in an area with a few million people. I’d have to really wonder if I felt that that wasn’t a big enough pool to dangle my hook in. It just seems like you are either insanely desperate or ridiculously arrogant to assume you need a 300 million people to find the one for you. Of course, with the folks there talking like they are going to find your best possible match, maybe that’s the reason. Now, for me, I assume my best match won’t require me to spend a shitload traveling or relocating.

Lest you think I am picking on the chicks, I don’t think the guys are any better. If the whole thing doesn’t make you uncomfortable I will just assume you have a screw loose. I don’t know how to evaluate the guys because I have never dated a guy. I do know that a guy that tries to sound like a saint is usually a prick. Seemed to have a few saints there. I’d go on more about the guys if I knew what to say. Maybe a woman can weigh in. Until then, I can only discuss what I saw in the chicks.

I also get the feeling most of them hate to be called chick.

I like AC/DC, but you can’t tell me they don’t understand why people thought they might be gay when they named the band AC/DC, the guitarist dressed like a schoolboy and the lead singer generally wears a belly shirt and has been known to perform in drag.

I was kind of wrong. My boss didn’t call once. I fact, I can’t find the guy. I am never more amazed than when the man who gets angry if his call isn’t returned in 10 minutes fails to return calls or answer emails. Of course, he could be on vacation. Why would I need to know if he’s on vacation? Just because I can’t do big chunks of my job without him, which means neither of us make money.

Sorry, had to bitch about the boss. I will leave out the brilliant conversations I did have today because while they are annoying as hell to me, they would not be of any interest to any of you.

Instead, let me tell you I visited a site I have to recommend for all the guys out there. First, before I do, I will say I had heard of it before, but had never actually visited. A good friend sent me a link today and I have to say I was shocked. Rarely have I found a site so useful for the average male.

The site is John TV.

OK, now many of you have clicked that link, and a few probably lost their lunch. If so, there is a new use for it. It is great for anorexics looking for help with purging. But, for guys, what is great is that this is a site that will do more than a cold shower ever could. It’s not just that these are some horrid looking women. If all it took was ugly women you could just go to Wal Mart. But these women are not only beastly, these are women that make a living getting paid for sex. Once you associate those faces with sex, you lose all sexual urges. When I first saw the site I honestly thought it was possible I would never have sex again. I got over that, but when I think about the faces I certainly lose my erection, if I have one. Guys can always use an aid in regaining control of their lust, and that site will sure do it.

The other thing I think it will be good for is keeping guys from cruising the streets for hookers. I have never gone looking, but if that is what is out there, there really is no reason for me to. Not only don’t I want to fuck anyone that looks like that, there is no way I could. In fact, if there were some hot streetwalker out there and I also saw a woman that looked like those chicks, it wouldn’t matter that I had found the hot chick. The proximity of the hag would have me running in fear. I am not sure, but I think just looking at the pics gave my eyes gonorrhea.

But, at least I got this cool new icon for Yahoo Messenger:


Oh, and for an update, my boss is an idiot. It really doesn’t matter when you write an email if you shut down your computer and don’t send it until midnight.

Last, but not least…the ex.

Yes, I know she is an ex for a reason. The first time I was not ready for anything as serious as what we had. The second time she kind of screwed up. While those are bad indicators, we are also still talking and very friendly after almost 2 years. That is a pretty good sign. Yes, she pissed me off, but it was probably unavoidable at the time. Besides, had she not done it I would have missed one really seriously twisted relationship. That one sucked, but it is also what got me past a lot of my baggage, and I have a shitload of baggage.

So, odds are I will give it a shot. It’s a crapshoot, but they always are. I don’t see her as my next wife. I don’t see anyone as my next wife. Well, if an insanely hot chick with a shitload of money and no desire to make me sign a pre-nup were to come along, she would probably get me to change my mind. But less than that ain’t gonna do it.

Oh, and my Christmas lights keep tripping the circuit breaker. I have too many.

It’s fucking hot. OK, not summer 105 with 70% humidity hot, but too fucking hot for December. When my son is playing outside in shorts and a tank top, it’s too fucking hot. When I have to seriously consider letting the air conditioner run for a while, it’s too fucking hot. Hell, the ceiling fans were running like a motherfucker. That is, of course, because I have a remote with a thermometer that turns them on based on the temperature, because I am a guy and we like remotes and things that are automatic, But I digress, it’s too fucking hot. And next weekend we may get past 80, because it will still be too fucking hot. In fact it will be even more too fucking hot.

Normally I support global warming. I am not a huge fan of cold wherever I may be, provided I am not skiing. But I would like a period where we get a little nip in the air. I like having to wear jackets now and then. Hell, I got a new jacket for Christmas, but I won’t be wearing it any time soon, because it’s too fucking hot. I like long freezes that kill bugs, because I hate bugs. What would be really cool is for it to suddenly get insanely cold so the bugs are still outside instead of in my house. I like it when my grass is dormant and I don’t have to mow it. All of these things won’t happen because it’s too fucking hot.

By the way, I love the way the day after Christmas is when they show The Antichrist on the History Channel.

I have to bitch about the last week of the year too. Yes, I did get today off, but the last 4 days are a pain. I have a lot of shit to get done, but do you really think any of it will? My main support person is on vacation, so I have her back up. Most of my clients won’t be working. Most of the third party people we rely on won’t be working. The people who will be working are my boss and brokers. They do not seem to understand that if someone isn’t working, they probably aren’t going to be answering their phones or, I dunno, actually doing any work. So how, exactly, am I supposed to get them to do anything? It’s not like I can do it for them. That’s not allowed. Besides, some of it I don’t know how to do. It’s in my industry, but way outside my field.

The thing is, with less real work, brokers and bosses have more time to call for “updates”. There won’t be shit to update them on. No I didn’t get what I needed, they took the week off. No I haven’t gotten any new business, nobody is calling. I call them and leave messages but they don’t call back. Most of them have messages saying they are out until the New Year. I think you get the idea. In short, nothing worthwhile will get done, but certain people will never accept that.

Justin wanted me to tell you he says “Guitar Hero is the most fun we have had with the PS2 in a LONG time”. He also says his fingers are bleeding.

I almost forgot, I face a huge dilemma. As I expected, the ex I am talking to does want to be serious. I am not sure what that really means though. She has work, kids and school, plus the difference. So we could be serious and still rarely see each other. I could, in theory, go down there to hang out where she works, but that ain’t gonna happen. So, in a way, serious could mean nothing more than agreeing not to see anyone or look for anyone.

Basically, and I hate to admit this, not much would really change. I’m not trying to meet anyone now. I’m not going to strip clubs. I am not seeing anyone else. I am certainly not fucking anyone. I am not talking to any other women. My personal ad is not updated and I never even look for matches. I am not even chatting or calling any women beyond a couple I see in an online game. In short, I could be serious with her and have almost no change other than actually getting some sex and calling it a relationship.

But, for some reason, that distinction gives me pause. It really shouldn’t, but it does. If I call it serious, I feel like I’ll get paranoid and nervous again. I admit the distance makes me worry, as does her part time job as a waitress. I just have this feeling there are women she works with and goes to school with that would pressure her to find a local guy. Even if they aren’t blatant I can see some of those unannounced set-ups and double dates. I can’t even explain why I feel like that, since I don’t know these women.

Part of it is just a general distrust, especially of those I don’t really know. It’s easier to just assume people are bad until proven wrong. If you do that you will rarely get an unpleasant surprise from them. The whole thing is mental really. Then again, I am mental, so it fits. From a practical standpoint the decision is obvious. So I have to make a decision.

And you know your 7-year old is really tired when he cries because the American only came in second in the World’s Strongest Man contest.

I considered not blogging today. You know, take the day off. But it’s midnight, everyone else is asleep, I can’t sleep yet myself. I can’t understand why but for some reason I can never sleep when I’m supposed to, but the rest of the time I could sleep at the drop of a hat. I’m sure that both of the people that still read this appreciate me not sleeping because that’s when I write.

I am glad I chose not to share my thoughts on Christmas. After everyone went to sleep I was just browsing to get some credits at Blog Explosion, and it seems that everyone that did blog had thoughts on the subject. Most were about what you expect. Pretty much you have those who love Christmas, those who hate Christmas and those who are so obsessed with politics they only mention Christmas as it is viewed on their side. But there was an exception.

One very brief post really fell in to the “I hate Christmas” camp, but his comments were very different. His day consisted of sleeping late, eating alone and watching TV. On TV he saw nothing but whores and sluts. I got the feeling he watched one of the MTV channels, but I can’t prove that. His plan was to then go clubbing where he could spend the rest of the night with, you guessed it, whores and sluts. I will give him credit for acknowledging he was a slut himself. (I always support self-awareness.) It was also nice to see someone who didn’t wallow in their anger. Instead he just made his attitude clear, and accepted his place in life.

Now, I have an only slightly related observation. When a professor is speaking on camera for a documentary about the history of Christmas, he should try to ensure the blackboard behind him doesn’t say “Arbeit macht frei”.

That reminds me of something else. This morning when I woke up it was still hours before my son would be here, so really Christmas wasn’t starting. There also wasn’t a football game until 4pm. With my parents here, that meant trying to find something we could do that wouldn’t offend them or bore me. This is much harder than it sounds. They are very easily offended, and, to be honest, we only kind of succeeded.

This dilemma actually began last night. The solution was a History Channel piece on Jesus. It was one of those things where they talked about finding sites Jesus would have visited. Of course my cynical side pointed out that it’s hard to say for sure where Jesus was born, where he was buried, where he learned to ride his bike or where he learned to bowl. Luckily for me my parents also hate self-appointed experts, so they agreed with me.

Today we had the missing years of Jesus. Those guys had Jesus going to England, India and I am sure Las Vegas. So the question was obvious: how do you know for sure? All they deal with is legend. Just because some dude wrote it down a long time ago doesn’t mean it happened. Just imagine what someone 2,000 years from now would think after reading my blog. You have a cult, plural marriage, lots of booze and strippers and every woman mentioned is insane.

But I have come to a conclusion about how they might know where Jesus went. We know Jesus spent time with the lowlifes. I bet that started as a kid. So I think Jesus probably hung with gang members. In fact, that could be where the idea for the disciples came from. Disciples isn’t really too shabby for a gang name. Maybe it was 12th Street Disciples, and it’s just gotten confused over the years. Anyway, as a gang member Jesus learned about tagging. The reason they know where all he went as a youth is that he threw up his tag. I believe he probably went by J-Dawg.

I think Jesus really liked tagging and kept it up as an adult. That’s how they know they have found the house Peter owned (where they claim the Disciples were based) and the boat they fished from. J-Dawg probably threw up some tags on the shit so people would know it was his turf.

It’s also possible the crucifixion wads all over a turf war and the Pharisees weren’t really religious dudes at all. They may have been just a major Jerusalem gang that got pissed that these upstarts from Galilee were trying to move in.

Makes as much sense as anything the PhDs had to say, and you didn’t have to go to college to get the info. You can thank me later.

So what do you write about at 12:30 AM on Christmas (or Christmas Eve if you prefer?)? If you are me, what you don’t write about is Christmas. I kind of figure that between Christmas at your house, every other page on the net, TV, radio, the newspaper and anything else you come in to contact with, you will have more than enough Christmas in your life without my thoughts on the matter. Instead, I will ramble again, because, as has been the norm, my mind is far from focused enough for a real post, and nothing is happening that warrants my attention.

If you read the comments from last night, you will see someone took offense to my tagline where I call you ‘bastards”. I was upset that she got upset after reading the second line on the page. I would hope I could have offended her closer. Originally I was considering finding a way to call you all bastards in the first line, but I like the placement of bastard as it is right now, so I figured another change was called for. Therefore, I have replaced the word “screwed” with the word “fucked”. It actually said fucked originally, but I changed it so people would read before the obscenity shocked them. I just forgot to change it back when I decided I don’t give a shit. Also, for the record, I don’t give a damn, a fuck, a flying fuck, a flying shit or a fucking shit. I might give a flying fucking shit, but I’d have to see one first to be sure.

I actually found it hilarious that someone took it so personally as to believe I am calling all readers bastards. The number of people that should be taking this shit personally is extremely limited, and even those people read it just to drive themselves crazy. Sometimes they seem to just want me to know they are checking up on me, but really that just makes me laugh. And, no, I am not laughing with them.

So here is a tip, if you think you see yourself in these stories, consider it not a sign that I am writing about you, but a sign that you probably have done some pretty fucked up shit that you are in denial about. If me saying “you bastards” offends you, you might want to consider the possibility you really are a bastard. Unless of course you are a woman, in which case I advise you to consider the possibility you are a bitch. If you are a transsexual please chose whichever insult you feel least comfortable with, because that is the one that probably suits you best.

Personally I have no problem with the word bastard. In fact, I used to use the nickname Little Bastard online. For me it had 3 meanings. First, that is the name of the car James Dean was driving when he died. So not only do you get a James Dean reference, but you tie in a cool car AND dying. That reference is kind of a 3-fer. Second, some people think I am an asshole. I think bastard is a good approximation of the meaning behind asshole, but for some reason it is less vulgar. They let you say bastard on TV, but you aren’t supposed to say asshole. Last, but not least, I am literally a bastard. I am not literally little, but it sounds better than bastard all by itself.

I am also facing an ethical dilemma. In general I am opposed to any sort of marathon on TV. I don’t mean when they show the best episodes of a show. I mean when they show the same fucking thing over and over. As previously mentioned, this relates to the traumatic experience of seeing “It’s a Wonderful Life” on TV non-stop for about six weeks every year when I was a kid. Well, once again one of those fucking Turner stations is showing “A Christmas Story” non-stop for 24-hours. It is a great movie, but I just don’t think there really is a movie worthy of this treatment. It really is annoying to be flipping through the channels and seeing it on every fucking time. I really hate for Ted Turner’s evil minions to ruin this movie for me, but they do this every year and it is starting to put a bad taste in my mouth. I worry I will either get to where I hate the movie, or I will be forced to kill TBS staffers until I finally get the bastard responsible. Don’t doubt my sincerity. It took 2 years and 14 murders but I finally got USA to show something besides Wings.

That reminds me. Some have complained that my blog is too violent. This is a total fabrication. My blog has never hurt anyone. It just sits there quietly on the screen. It doesn’t do a damn thing. If anyone got hurt while reading the blog they probably punched the screen, in which case they are the violent one, not the blog. The blog may sometimes contain discussions of violence, but we can’t blame the blog itself for those now can we?

Now, I must sleep. But I will close with this thought. I believe that if “My So Called Life” had been on one more season Ricky would have ended up doing the nasty with Jordan Catalano.

Fuck my head hurts. I have a massive headache, which is an improvement from the migraine I had when I woke up. By wake up I mean rolled over and went back to sleep. Yeah, I spent most of the day in bed. I am kind of looking forward to heading back to bed, but can’t yet because there happens to be a one day only sale on a specific toy my son wants, so I have to be awake at midnight to place the order so we can pick it up at the store tomorrow. This was something I was totally trying to avoid because I really don’t like crowds, lines and general insanity.

Of course, having neither gone out nor talked to anyone besides my son and parents, this has not been the most intellectually or emotionally stimulating day. So I am going to ramble again.

Did you know that the movie Lords of Dogtown does not qualify as a Christmas movie? I was informed of that fact as we watched it tonight. Personally I think everyone should accept that a movie with the word Lord in the title is really about as close as religious as I am going to get. In fact, there are only 2 Christmas movies I do like. I like A Christmas Story and I like the original Miracle on 34th Street. Yes, I know that latter one seems off for me. I like it anyway.

One of the local stations will show nothing but film of a burning fire in a fireplace for 3 hours on Christmas morning. Having seen a clip of the fire during a commercial, I won’t be watching. My TV is about 52 inches, and it looked like the whole fucking room was on fire. To me there is nothing even a little cheerful about simulating a housefire. Well, at least if it’s my house. Now if it were…

Actually, I won’t be seeing it anyway. The fire is from 5-8am, and I have no intention of being up by 8am. Only one person can get me up by 8, and he won’t be here. Of course I am worried mom will be up early working on dinner, which would totally blow. Not the working on dinner part, the part where it wakes me up.

I don’t know what is in egg nog, but it scares me.

I can’t seem to get hooked up with that ex. Basically the few times neither of us was working, one of us had the kids, and I’m not going to involve the kids or miss time with my son. This is making for another very long dry spell. I hate dry spells.

I also hate cheese.

Shit, my head is throbbing. I have got to crash. Wish I could write more, but I can’t.

I don’t think we’ll have any pretty pictures tonight. In fact, I am kind of surprised I am posting at all.

I am not in the mood to write, and have nothing on my mind. I would like to see if it is possible to sleep for about 40 straight hours, but between my son, work and my parents kind of prevent that. It’s not that I am in a bad mood, just a bland mood. I am not really up or down. I can’t even describe it except to say I feel flat.

But, I have to put some shit in here tonight, so here it goes.

First, Blog Explosion’s profiles of my blogs say they contain “partial profanity”. At first I was confused because I don’t even know what “partial profanity” is. I thought they might be referring to several typos I have made where I told someone to “fuc off” or “kiss my as”. Then I decided to be pissed off about this. I think they are saying my profanity is half assed. That is just bullshit. I use fuck enough that people comment about me using it too much. I believe I have used every profanity in the English language. I even considered swearing in foreign languages but I figured most people wouldn’t understand it so it wouldn’t seem as crude and offensive.

Like many people I check to see how many people visit my blog and where they come from. I like reading the blogs that link to me even if I don’t comment much anymore. I also can kind of get a feel for what kind of people read this shit. But one thing about that is you also know if certain people are reading. For example, there is a certain ex that insists she never reads, but does almost every day (based on our few conversations she wants to see if I mention her, but doesn’t want to admit that. There are also people from a certain forum that come just to see if I am still offensive to their delicate sensibilities. Sometimes I have to add extra “fucks” just to make sure I don’t let them down. I know they enjoy their indignation and I’d hate to take that away from them.

The local strip club with the nastiest commercials on the radio is also the club where you are least likely to have anything happen besides just a dance. They do have great food though.

I accidentally stumbled in to an 8-hour sale at the grocery store. I could bitch about the huge crowds that I could not avoid because my son needed something, but instead I have to say, those people were nuts. When we pulled in to the parking lot we parked next to an old pickup truck. The old couple that was in the truck had entirely filled the bed of the truck with jumbo backs of toilet paper and paper towels. Now, if I really thought they were just going to roll the neighbors’ houses, I would think that was cool. But I just can’t see them doing that. That left more “traditional” uses for them, which left me assuming they had reached the point where they can no longer control their bodily functions. I will not lie, what hit me was not sympathy, but nausea.

If you are a waitress in a bar where it’s fairly normal for guys to offer you money to fuck, I think you need to consider finding another job. Unless it’s a strip club. In that case you really can’t be too terribly surprised.

If you make it a habit of offering women that bring you drinks money for sex you really shouldn’t be too surprised when you get your ass kicked by an angry boyfriend, husband, manager, bartender, bouncer or random guy.

I hate Christmas carolers. 20 strangers standing on my porch singing to me is really kind of creepy when you think about it.

The fact that women find Johnny Knoxville hot proves they are at least as superficial as guys.

A friend and I used to go to an upscale strip club on fight nights. We liked the fact they had a huge projection screen, stopped the music during the fights and had great food. There was one really cute dancer there named Diamond. One time she mentioned her roommate worked there too and she’d bring her to our table for my friend. As we sat at our table a dancer named Emerald. I warned my friend that she had to be the roommate. She was, and Diamond did bring her to our table. I am not sure he has forgiven me for that.

Right now there are people wondering what the odds are of a woman named Diamond finding a roommate named Emerald.

The chick that cut my hair had a pierced nose. I asked if it hurt and her response was that I should get one. She thought not only would it look good but also that it made sense that I get one because I worked at home so nobody would see it. I still wish I understood the logic of that. There are all sorts of fucked up things I could do to my hair, face and body and not have customers see, but that is just fucked.

Who would have ever guessed a relationship between a porn star and a man that runs a brothel wouldn’t work out?

You know, there is a reason I don’t post pics of my son here, and it’s not because he’s not cute, because he is. Hell, he has actually modeled for a company that sells Halloween costumes, although he wouldn’t wear those costumes for Halloween unless forced to at gunpoint. But I don’t want to have my son’s picture on a page where I’m discussing anal sex and strippers. Call me crazy, but having his picture show up when some perv does a Google Image search. Any number of things I have written here really shouldn’t end up tied to pictures of a little kid. In fact, it would be hard to find something here you would want associated with your child.

I bring this up because in pretending to surf at Blog Explosion to earn some credits I noticed a really scary trend. There are a lot of “Mommy Blogs” where the woman writes about everything in her life, and has pictures of her kids. I don’t know, but I don’t really think that is too smart. What you and your husband do in the bedroom doesn’t really belong on the page with your toddler. I wouldn’t even want my son’s picture to be tied to things like “Bush sucks”. Seriously, think about what you are writing about and decide if you want your kid’s picture associated with it. Do a Google Image search some time and see what comes up. Lots of things that are totally unrelated will show because the picture is on a page that mentions it.

Sometimes, just for fun I will come up with an outrageous search term and do a Google Image search. Then I will laugh at the people whose pictures show up. Granted I don’t know them and they don’t really know I am making fun of them. For example, I did a search just now for “monkey balls”. Here are some of the pics that showed up.




I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to be tied to “monkey balls”. I also wouldn’t want my picture showing up when someone searched for “monkey balls”.

More to the point, these poor souls show up if you search for “anal sex”. It would really suck to be some of these people.






So the next time you post a pic of your kid, consider what else is going to be said on that page and decide if you want people that search for it finding pictures of your child. Oh, and the molesters are going to just search for pics of kids, so consider that when you post those pics of junior playing with the dog or Margaret in the bathtub.

I also came across a blog I at first thought I would have to link. It looked good and it seemed to have a team of ladies that would be fun. Then I read the most recent entry. Someone wrote in to ask if semen was good for you, and all 3 ladies launched in to a diatribe against swallowing. That is just not a site I can support. Here is the deal. Once the spooge leaves my dick, I really don’t want to see it again. Besides, spitting makes no sense. It’s already been on your tongue. You already tasted it. May as well swallow. Plus, I have had nasty shit in my mouth. Swallowing it does a lot better job of getting it out of my mouth than spitting.


So I will not endorse that site. I am betting they advise against anal too.


As you can see, Planned Parenthood endorses anal, so if anyone tells you it’s bad they are just wrong.

I have to say a couple of things inspired by the radio.

The first is that sometimes people need to be protected from embarrassing themselves. In this case, something that is being done to be nice has really made someone look bad. They were playing one of those spots where they talk to soldiers so they can wish friends and family at home Merry Christmas. In this case they were talking to a woman. But she didn’t appear to be in the military. In fact, she was in Alaska. But she said she had a husband AND father stationed in Iraq. I was pretty stunned at that until she added, “His name is Robby Jones (name changed to protect the innocent). I was a little concerned that her father and husband is the same guy. I am pretty sure that is not legal in Alaska.

There are people claiming that she meant he is her husband and father of her children, but she didn’t wish any Merry Christmas on behalf of the kids. Most of the time they like to say “For Billy, Mary, Bobby and Bubba, Merry Christmas”. There was no mention of the kids, so maybe her father is her husband. If that’s the case, the radio really shouldn’t play it because that isn’t the best way to break the news to her friends and family if they don’t already know. I would think hearing that might make the rest of her family spit out their coffee. Now, if she just misspoke, maybe they could have re-recorded so she didn’t sound like a refugee from Deliverance stuck in the frozen north.

The other thing I learned is that Jesus always agrees with anyone who happens to be talking about him. In this case, there was a discussion about the homeless. Specifically, the topic was “Why do you hate the homeless?” One of the callers was asked if he was religious. (I think he was only asked because he was Hispanic, but that is for another entry on another blog.) His answer was yes, but his views were rather odd. These included:

• Jesus said “Everyone puts their pants on the same way, and if they don’t do it right, they’re screwed.” (For the record, I have no idea what that means.)


• Jesus wouldn’t really think the homeless should be cared for because they don’t do anything anyway.


• Jesus would approve of strapping bombs on to homeless people and sending them to Iraq to kill “bad guys”

Of course he also felt this plan would be very successful because the homeless already stink, have beards and you can’t understand what they say, “just like the Arabs”. While it is an interesting theory, I doubt its practicality and have to question if the theorist knows many “Arabs”. I am not sure if it was related to this plan, but he also wanted the homeless to “give their social security numbers to Hispanics who will actually use them”.

The next time I found a cult, I have decided to latch on to this phenomenon. The basic idea would be a one-on-one ministry called “Your Own Personal Jesus”. For a minimal fee I will tell you that Jesus agrees with whatever it is you think. I figure that people have been saying Jesus said this or that for so long that me jumping in to the fray won’t matter much. But I do see how those could go over real well. Just imagine being able to back up any argument with a theological opinion that Jesus would agree with you. And he would agree with you on every issue large or small. If your wife wants Italian and you want Chinese, you call me up and, once your credit card is approved, Jesus sends you a message that he wants you to have Chinese.

I think this will be a great moneymaker. It’s a pretty shitty theology, but what the hell.

I’ve figured out I have the wrong job.

Dog from Dog the Bounty Hunter just got signed to do another season of the show. I am not a fan of the show, but you have to love the guy just because they are going to pay him $100,000 per episode. Now, I know that is not a lot compared to something like Seinfeld or Friends, but I wouldn’t mind getting paid about $1.2 million a year, or whatever that works out to, to have guys with cameras and boom mics follow me while I do the job I was already going to do. At first I thought that having these people might interfere with his ability to do his job, but it must not since it seems like every bounty hunter in the country has their own fucking show. They all also catch lots of idiots that run away to their mom’s house as if it would never occur to anyone to check there. Besides, even if it was going to be harder to catch someone you just take a little of the money they are paying you to get the guys that might notice the lights and cameras outside their door.

Of course what makes these shows really work isn’t the catching of escaped felons. What it takes is a truly dysfunctional cast of characters. That is where I’d have the problem. I kind of got rid if all the interesting people. I actually watched Family Bonds last night and was reminded of why people like this shit. The basic formula is get people that would fit right in on Jerry Springer, but have a job that you can pretend is the subject of the show. The one that struck me was a woman that didn’t get near as much attention as everyone else: Sister-in-law Number 1. She has a name but I never bothered to learn it. I do know, however, what her tits look like. That could be because it seemed like they were always looking for a reason to show them. She has liposuction, and we have to see her tits. She has to get her nipple pierced, and we join her husband and watch the process. I swear that, if everyone was in the office and the main guy started screaming he needed milk for his coffee she’d come running in, rip off her top and squeeze breast milk in the cup.

So, basically, what I want is for them to have cameras installed in my house and for a cameraman and sound guys to follow me while I do what I do. The hard part is selling a network on my job because it is mostly working on a computer with occasional phone calls to liven it up. But the job is just an excuse anyway. The real reason for the show is what happens outside work. I think I have already proven my ability to attract nutbags that will do insane things, and there is no reason to believe they will be any less insane with cameras around. In fact, I think some of them would have even done more crazy shit with cameras around because it would have made them uncomfortable. Plus, there being constant documentation of their actions might speed the meeting to freak-out cycle considerably, which would be good for me and for the audience.

I also think the cameras would attract new nutbags. I have seen enough of the shows to know that there are people who will want to be around these “celebrities” just because it means they will get on TV. That would be good because unlike the typical reality show we would embrace these crazies. Why not take some of them, let them be their crazy attention starved selves and get it all on film. The fact the show would be about crazy women would attract women who wanted to be crazy on TV. We’d have more crazy women than we’d know what to do with. Plus, I could pick only the really hot ones. That has a certain appeal to it.

Speaking of whores: I was reminded of a scientific study done in one of my old hometowns. There was a citizens group that didn’t want strip clubs near their homes. They also didn’t want adult bookstores and massage parlors. I can’t say as I blame them. Those places tend to be in shitty neighborhoods. Of course the neighborhoods in this particular town were shitty before there were all these businesses, but they didn’t want their neighborhoods to get even shittier. I am not sure that was possible, but we’ll just assume they were right because I am too tired to debate whether a strip club is worse than a bunch of heavy equipment that starts idling it’s diesel engines about 5 AM. (Although I value sleep far too much to discard the importance of not living next to a heavy equipment yard.)

So these people commission a study. By study I mean they paid a professor to look at all the crime stats around the adult businesses in town. They then released the shocking statistics that there are more “serious sex crimes” around these places than is normal for the town. The newspapers were very concerned because, as we all know rape is a serious sex crime. Of course they kind of glossed over the fact that there weren’t more rapes. There were also not more sexual assaults of any kind. They didn’t have more pervs flashing schoolchildren. What they did have was a lot more prostitution.

I can see why this was so shocking. I mean the massage parlors have women who get naked with clients and rub lotion on them. Who would have guessed these women sometimes had sex for money? And the “bookstores” and strip clubs had private rooms where women got naked in front of guys. It never occurred to me that women willing to get buck-naked in a small private room for a stranger for a little money might be willing to have sex with him for even more money.

Basically, they paid this professor thousands of dollars to announce that, where you have congregations of whores, more people pay women for sex. Well, no shit. I would have told them that for half what they paid this PhD. In fact, to save them money, you have more drugs sold where there are drug dealers present, and you will ticket more drunk drivers outside bars than grade schools. You also have more deaths in a hospital, so we shouldn’t want a hospital anywhere near our kids. They might die!

And can someone explain to me why neighborhoods around hospitals are “quiet zones”? They have brick walls, soundproof glass and are 10 stories tall. I really doubt the people inside will hear me drive by at 50 m.p.h. even if I have the radio blaring. Besides, the nurses keep them all doped on morphine so they don’t hear anything anyway.

I’m confused by something. Many have discussed the idea of having a deathbed conversion. It seems like a pretty good plan. Granted, you have to worry about an instant death, but there are risks with every plan. But I think they saw this plan and decided that, when you get to heaven you will be rewarded with a better mansion if you do good things on Earth. But what the hell difference would that make. Supposedly everyone in heaven is happy, so why would they care if someone had a better mansion. Hell, if everyone is satisfied, how can one mansion be better than another?

Yeah, I know I never discuss religion or politics. That one kind of confuses me though.

I have no idea what to write about tonight. Actually, I am not really in the mood to write. I didn’t do jack shit today besides nap and hang out with my son. I had nothing that motivated me in the least. In fact, I avoided serious thought at all costs. I have a shitload of work to do tomorrow, and that will continue all week, so there will be time to think then. No reason to waste a weekend thinking too much.

I have done some reading though. There have been just some random blogs I looked at and I have to say that there are some dumb motherfuckers. I don’t mean the bloggers. If a blogger seems dumb I stop reading. No, these are people that the bloggers have written about. My personal favorite was the story of one of only 4 putters built by hand for Tiger Woods. According to the story, the guy that makes them makes a few. Tiger takes 1 to use, and one backup. He lets the guy that makes them do what he wants with the others. In this case he kept one and sold one to a dealer. Now you too can own this club. Of course it costs more than a brand new BMW. I am sure that there are a lot of people who just love to waste money and to be blunt, that is what this is. I have news for anyone interested in the club. You can have Tiger’s clubs, his clothes and even, if she is willing, bang his girl. But you still won’t be Tiger. You also won’t play like him. Not even close.

And then I flip through the channels and some asswipe cast Rosie O’Donnell in Exit to Eden, which was almost enough to give me a stroke. And enough to keep me from ever stroking again.

Oh, there was one blog where some American guy living in Bangkok discussed how, despite constantly railing against stripper/hookers and the guys that frequent them and fall in love, he has fallen in love with a Thai hooker. Now, I may be missing something, but if they are so sleazy, why are you even going to see them, dating them, fucking them…

Oh, and why is Tom Leykis on my radio on Sunday morning telling me what expensive champagnes to use to woo women? Last time I checked he was all about “pump ‘em and dump ‘em”. If I am going to woo, that would kind of go against the “Show me your tits and suck my dick” mantra, wouldn’t it? I seem to recall him bitching about how women expect nice things in exchange for sex, but here he is talking about volunteering to do it. Now I know some women are greedy, but if you offer them shit and they accept, whose fucking problem is that? I mean, when people give me shit I generally say thank you and take it.

And this fucking historian on TV sounds like that redheaded kid on King of the Hill that says things like “Your dad blew up”. But he’s Asian, so I am really confused every time I see him.

I hate the word InterWeb. It is particularly bad when the person using it talks about how they need to change blog hosts if they “want to be taken seriously on the InterWeb”. Here’s a clue. First, none of us are taken seriously. These are fucking blogs. If you want to be taken seriously write a book or something else people have to at very least check out from a library. Second, if you really think your blog host is why you aren’t being taken seriously, you may want to see if your doc can up your medication.

Now I will sleep. Tomorrow I will bitch some more.

If you ever decide to open a place that specializes in children’s parties, there are a couple of really basic things to do. First, it is a good idea to hire cute girls to catch the father’s eyes. The fathers really do get kind of bored because the kids are busy playing and a party full of married women can get really boring. Second, said cute girls really do need to like kids. All I can say is that while the people we saw today understand rule one, they seemed to have a problem grasping rule 2. Damn that girl seemed to really hate kids. Now, while I pretty much like just my son, these kids weren’t brats by any means. Hell, the problem kids from the school were all somewhere else today. If they had been there I am pretty sure she would have killed at least one of them. I am not saying this as a bad thing. I think it would have upset their parents though.

Yes, I was at another kid’s birthday party. This time at least it wasn’t Up-Chuck E. Cheese. This place has 2 giant rooms with those inflatable toys you see at church carnivals. So, basically, the kids run and jump for about an hour, they land on each other, someone cries and then they all get mad when it’s over. And I, of course, first prayed my son would have fun, then that there would be at least one single MILF there. There wasn’t. I hate to say it, but my son’s friends do not have hot moms. It always seems like the hot moms are at the other parties. Plus, these are all church types, and I probably am not exactly what they are used to. I was definitely the only father with highlights in his hair. I am a lot less likely to refer to something as “my ministry” except in jest. I also do not call things a “blessing” very often.

My ex and I have an agreement. We both make sure my son has a good moral grounding. She handles religious instruction and I make sure he doesn’t grow up as sheltered as his mom did. Hell, she’s still sheltered. I get the feeling most of the women that have kids in the church school my son goes to. The few that might not mind probably also want a husband, and that is not me. I was thinking about that today watching all these couples. I have no desire to get married because I am having more fun single.

Speaking of fun single, I came to a serious revelation. There was another of those many events where they have women go up and act slutty for the entertainment of guys. The chicks have to get drunk to do it, which they did. But let me say I am not speaking out of sympathy for the women. To me, if you want to have people whistle and treat you like a slut, you get what you deserve. However, I realized something looking at the pictures of these women. I am not saying they weren’t attractive, because a couple of them were. But I was glad I didn’t go to the event. It occurred to me that women I would drive for an hour to see act slutty in a room full of morons must be much hotter than women I would drive for an hour to see in a room full of morons, only to take them home and bang them after. When I pointed out that I wasn’t impressed, I was told I was full of shit. Specifically, I was told, “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t fuck them.” And, I would have fucked many of them. But it’s not like that was a possibility.

That is one thing I really don’t get about guys. Guys will put up with a lot of shit if they get to see women. Maybe it’s the same thing I don’t get about guys that watch a shitload of porn. Sex that doesn’t involve me doesn’t keep my attention, and the same goes for women I won’t nail. I don’t buy the fantasy I guess. Plus, if it’s just fantasy, why go somewhere. You can fantasize anywhere. Hell, you can do it without leaving the house. But hold an event and promise them there will be hot women there, and guys will fight just to get there.

Of course I also don’t get what it is about acting slutty that makes a woman more attractive to a guy. I have a theory involving a secret desire common to men to develop nasty rashes and genital warts, but it’s just a theory. I can say from experience that acting like a slut doesn’t mean you are more likely to get good sex. I will agree that many slutty women are actually sluts, so that may mean getting sex is more likely, but the quality isn’t always there. Of course, most guys don’t seem to care as long as they get off.

It’s like the old joke: What was the best blowjob you ever had? The last one. I know guys that believe there is no such thing as a bad blowjob but that is most certainly not true. Putting aside the fact that a truly bad blowjob can actually hurt, it is possible to suck at blowing without doing physical damage. But some guys seem to think that as long as it is wet and open, it’s all good. I never understood why those guys even bother with women. It seems to me they could do just as good with chuck steak. It would not only be easier to get, in general it is a shitload cheaper.

Of course, if that caught on you’d have guys buying more meat than they really need. Grocers would start marketing steak that is “ribbed for your pleasure”. Rich guys would brag about how they only use fillet. Women would look funny at you if you had a lof of beef in your cart. And “boneless” would have a completely different meaning.

I have been thinking about dolphins. Basically, I have been thinking about the claims that dolphins are super smart. I have to disagree, because they can’t be that fucking smart. The trainers get the dolphins to do all these tricks in exchange for fish. This would make sense if that was the only way for the dolphins to get fish, but it’s not like the trainers aren’t going to feed them if they don’t do the tricks. It’s also not like they get special fish for tricks that are different from the fish they get anyway. In short, if dolphins were so damn smart they’d figure that out and just ignore the trainers when they want them to do a trick. Hell, if they were really smart they’d just jump up on that little platform, knock the cooler with the fish in it and eat them all.

In short, dolphins are stupid.

Also stupid are many of the people I saw while getting my haircut and, yes, I admit it, highlighted. First, let me say that I appreciate their offer of coffee. Next time they need to give me coffee though, instead of asphalt. But it was good since I was half asleep. But the first hilarious conversation was a girl upset about working on Christmas. I am assuming she was talking about a different job because I can’t imagine that the salon is open on Christmas. I could be wrong, but that is not really the issue. You see, they assigned her because she is Jewish. She has decided that is discrimination. As I pondered that, however, another employee asked a relevant question, “But don’t you make them give you Jewish holidays off?” The answer was, “Of course.” So, as I see it, she wants the holidays from her religion off, as well as those of everyone else’s religion. I am betting that if she did enough research she would never have to work a day in her life.

The second entertainment was a lady whose hair had issues. By issues, I mean it had blue and green streaks. She went on for a very long time about how a stylist had messed it up and she had had to pay for it. I dunno about you, but if someone turned my hair aqua I wouldn’t pay them. I get the strange feeling this was a case of at home highlights gone bad. But she insisted, and repeated for 30 minutes, that someone had done it to her. Then they explained patiently that she had to go to a darker shade because a lighter shade would not cover the moss on her head. They did finally decide on a color, but I had to leave before we got to see if red and blue makes purple when it comes to hair.

I could discuss the “hair stylist as rock star” mentality at Toni and Guy, but that is really so cliché. I will say that the worst culprit had 2 issues. First, he was late because, in a series of events one would expect on I Love Lucy, all of his pants (which he kept reminding us cost at least $70 a pair) ended up in a washing machine that had bleach in it because of his roommate. So he was late because all his pants were ruined. There was no explanation of where he got the ones he was wearing, but it really is hard not to laugh at someone so obnoxious telling that story. The other problem is one I have seen often. There is a certain new hairstyle worn by trendy men, and a certain shade of red they like, that when combined make your head look like an orangutan when viewed from behind. Again, hard not to laugh. But you have to be careful because he may be a friend of whomever is cutting or coloring your hair (nobody there does both) and that is a dangerous proposition.

I also had an epiphany. For some time I have contended that straight men only dance with women they want to bang, but then I have been countered by claims that some guys just like to dance. Then I realized WHY they like to dance. They enjoy it because it has been successful in getting them laid. What guy wouldn’t enjoy something that worked at getting some tail? If you could get some by giving great manicures, men would be going to beauty school. Here is a story told to me by the ex I am kind of involved with. Her mom, uncle, cousin and their spouses took her to a country bar. She wanted to dance but her male family members were too busy drinking beer, so when a song she loved came on she accepted a dance invitation. While dancing, the guy said, “Fuck me if I’m wrong, but I think you want to kiss me.” Her reply was, “I don’t want to kiss you or fuck you, and this dance is over.” See, guys dance with women they want to fuck, and, being guys, they just assume women follow the same logic. Of course women believing that good dancing means good sex probably doesn’t help matters because a guy that can dance thinks every dance is a sex audition. Probably also didn’t help that the next woman he approached actually fucked him in the parking lot. Now, she could be lying or something, but how many times have I seen something like that?

I also have decided I wish I could pull of being charming and sleazy at the same time. There are just some guys that can walk up to a woman and say “You have a nice ass” and somehow it works for them. Now, if I am already in, I can pull it off, but I just can’t do that as an opener. I actually am really bad at openers, so I guess I couldn’t do any worse with that one.

OK, I have to get this shit up. Sorry it’s late but my body said, “Fuck you” and made me sleep at 10 last night. I will try to do better tonight.

I have been trying to figure something out. Is it a sin to pray that I get to go party with hundreds of porn stars in Vegas?

Here’s the deal. In January there is a huge adult video convention, culminating with the AVN Awards. The place will have more silicon that an Intel plant. It seems my best friend may have an inside line on VIP passes to both the convention and the show. And given the way he and another friend that is likely to go can work a room, I am also imagining these passes would result in invites to more parties than we could possibly attend. Of course I’d just be going for research purposes and to support my friend. It’s not like I would want to bang hot chicks that just happen to do porn.

One really funny thing is that people have said, “Are you worried about disease?” All I can say is that this is one place where you know every woman there has been examined and tested within the last 30-days. Name any other place you can meet women where you can say that. OK, maybe at the clinic, but their tests came back positive. These girls have to stay clean or they can’t work. Yes, there were some that got AIDS, but they had sex with a guy that did double bareback anal in Brazil. I am betting they are not doing that as much anymore. These concerns could be hard on my friend if I am not there to reassure him.

Strangely, the risky ones are the chicks that aren’t doing porn but want to. They’re probably fucking anything with a dick and a camcorder. (That reminds me: pack camcorder.) The thing to remember is that agents, directors, producers, cameramen and assorted porn related sleazebags that promise girls jobs do not have to be tested. Since these are the guys that come up with bright ideas like filming double bareback anal in Brazil, the wannabe starlets are probably pretty risky. Of course I only want to go because my friend needs my support.

The other concern has been about measuring up. This is one I have given some thought though. I know I am at least adequate in that department (at least when I stop being paranoid). But these girls have to be used to well beyond adequate. However, I have decided I really don’t care. It’s not like I am competing for the girl’s love. If I am less than they expect, I will just have to live with that. I think I can handle their rejection. And I am, of course, only doing this to be supportive of my friend.

Also, just going will give me stuff to blog about for weeks. I have seen films of the awards and there are enough nuts there to give me more stories than I know what to do with. And there is also a convention, so there are non-professionals and seriously devoted fans to make fun of. Personally there is not a single porn star I would recognize besides Ron Jeremy, and I have only seen him in mainstream stuff. So seeing people who know things like the girl’s birthday and shoe size should be pretty funny.

The scariest part of the whole trip is things. I do not want to se men in things. I sincerely believe men should not wear them. In fact, any man in a thong really should be summarily executed. This also goes for Speedos, but I don’t think there will be much of a problem there because we’ll probably be asleep during daylight hours and preoccupied at night. If my friend wants to wear a thong or hang around those in thongs, he’s on his own.

That perv.

I think I have discovered the easiest way to blog in the world. First, you do need a blog with readers. That is the hard part. I know what it takes to have a shitload of readers because I used to have a shitload of readers. It took a lot of time. But once you have that, it’s easy. First, you announce you will be having guest bloggers at some point in the future. I am guessing you need a good reason to need them, but maybe not. You can always claim you will be having surgery. People like surgery. Well, they like other people’s surgery anyway.

This is where it gets brilliant though. You let people know that if they want to be a guest blogger, they must submit a sample. You want a whole entry from them. Amazingly, people will do this. Then you post the entries so the readers can read them and comment. You now have easy content, and since it seems like a competition, people are even more likely to submit because they want to win. And they will get their readers to come to your blog because they want to win. And, of course, some of those people will want to win, so they will submit. The whole thing becomes this giant growing mess where people keep submitting to win.

Then, you actually also have all these people who will also write for you when you are “away”. And when you publish their “guest entry” they will once again have their readers come because they want everyone to see that they were chosen, and we all want attention or we wouldn’t be writing this shit in the first place. You just keep repeating this cycle forever, and all you have had to do was read some shot and add like 2-3 sentences about who write it or whatever, plus occasional reminders of what is going on. I am honestly wondering how long you can keep this up.

And, yes, I found a blog that is doing this, but I am not about to give the lazy bastard any free hits. He may be brilliant, but I have decided lazy trumps clever.

I have also decided that people are very gullible. This is because I read the comments on Scary Personals and it is amazing to me that people haven’t figured out that I make up the text most of the time. Now, there are cases where the text is so funny I just use it, but for the most part I make it up based on the picture. But if you read the comments it’s clear that a lot of people seem to think the ads are real just as I present them. Yes, the pics come from real personals ads, but do you really think a woman wants a man who has a DC/AC converter in his car? Does the guy think she wants it for her vibrator or something/ Oh, and there is the need for a shitload of extension cords.

Of course, the suggestion that I start let people post their own real personals there kind of scared me. I would really wonder about anyone that wanted their ad on the page. What happens if someone assumes you are one of the joke people? Even worse, what if someone tries to get a date with one of the joke people? I don’t want to get nasty emails asking for contact info for those losers. For the record I do not gather or keep that. I do not give a flying fuck who these people are. I truly don’t ever want to know any of them. Well, maybe a couple of the hotties would be OK. They may be stupid, but hot is hot, even if she does post pics of herself in front of a toilet.

I would write more, but I have a splitting headache. So I will instead post this:


Nothing says Happy Holidays like a turd in front of a pile of colorful dried leaves.

I had some free time. By free time I meant time spent on the phone with my boss and/or customers. Usually they are not saying anything worth listening to, although I do anyway. But that leaves my hands and eyes free, except when I stop to make an obscene gesture or to roll my eyes and sigh quietly. When I had a regular office and a phone with mute I could actually cuss at the phone, but since I don’t have that now I can’t do that anymore.

Anyway, I used this free time to earn credits on blog explosion. If you’re curious about them there’s a link on the left. I learned a couple of things doing this. The first is that I will not bother to read almost any blogs unless there are pictures of hot chicks there on top. For the most part I don’t seem to be missing much because it seems like all the blogs are either political or by a “writer trapped in the body of a (insert mindless occupation here”). Occasionally you do come across a hot chick trying to advance her political agenda. I was willing to read those if she had enough pictures of herself.

But there were some blogs that really deserved mention. The first one was My Neighbours Are Hoors! (The exclamation point is there’s, not mine). Basically, the title says it all. The writer lives next to a brothel, or at least claims to. Well, she calls it a brothel. To me it sounds more like a pimp situation, just with a female pimp. Regardless, I support all blogs written about Scottish whores in tenements, just because the concept is funny. There are also random naked people in the area. Alas, no pictures. The thing that would make it better would be pictures of the whores, as long as they are cute. They need to be cute because stories about ugly whores are just depressing.

The other one I can’t find again, which is all well and good because it did have pictures, but not any good ones. I am not saying there weren’t naked pics, because there were, but the owner seems to like posting pictures of herself and, well, they aren’t to my taste. First, she shaves her head. In my wild college days I had a brief dalliance with a chick that shaved her head, so I have been open minded in the past, but I just can’t do the bald chick thing anymore. But, alas, it gets worse. The girl has a fantasy of being on Suicide Girls. (Note: Link posted just for those who are not familiar with the site. Personally I never liked the goth/tattooed all over look.)

They keep rejecting her apparently, and I think this bugs her. She has series of pictures for their site and I can tell she went to some trouble. There are costumes to rent. There are photographers to hire. There are props to bring in. Oh, and there are nametags to pin through her breast. Yes, she has a nametag pinned through her breast. Not her nipple. Her actual breast. I am not a huge fan of pierced nipples anyway because I would hate to hurt someone’s nipple on accident. When I saw the breast thing I immediately though she may be the stupidest woman on the planet. Then I remembered we had never dated so that was not possible.

In trying to find the site again I came across a few news stories that referred to Suicide Girls as being feminist and empowering. Now, either I misunderstand the meaning of those words or this girl and that site do, because I don’t really see sticking needles through a tit as empowering. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty fucking degrading. Maybe I am old fashioned, but I have never bought the argument that it becomes empowering if a woman decides to do something degrading of her own free will. I would think you are still ultimately doing it so pervs can jack off and fantasize about needles in knockers. Just because you get paid for it doesn’t change that.

Now if she is doing it because she enjoys it, I guess that’s different. In that case she may need a therapist though.

I also have to say something that may sound vaguely political. I do not care what side you are on in the death penalty debate, but this guy looks to me like the evil cousin of the little doll in the Sprite commercials. And because of all the hubbub, now I am having nightmares.

Certain things amaze me. For example, as I have mentioned, I do not understand telling a lie you cannot possibly get away with. I understand lying and, let’s be fair, everyone lies or has lied at one point. And we all make mistakes and tell stupid lies. But why would you tell huge lies you cannot hope to ever get away with. The best I can figure is that people are often so reluctant to call a liar on their lies because they don’t want to embarrass them that these people think they are good liars. They aren’t really; it’s just that some people are too fucking nice. Sometimes the merciful thing to do is to call bullshit so the person at least starts to think about their lies.

I also don’t get people that insist on trying to fuck with someone who has intentionally avoided them for a year, when they insist to everyone they encounter that the person is deeply fucked up. If you get involved with someone, and it’s a terrible mistake, just be glad you got out of the situation. Don’t keep trying to provoke them. All that will do is piss them off. If they are as fucked up as you think, they might just decide to fuck right back. I would think knowing that they could really mess with your life would be motivation enough to just leave them alone. I mean, shit, usually the person that won’t just let it go has a shitload to lose, but the person they think is fucked up has nothing to lose. That’s the thing with nuts; they really don’t have anything at risk. It just doesn’t make sense to me to try to provoke them.

I think that I will write some children’s books and just sock them away. That way, if I ever get convicted of murder I can just release them and suddenly people will think I am a good guy. Plus, it seems like convicted killers automatically get published. It doesn’t seem to matter what they write, it gets published and sells. Since I’d like to get published, and if I were on death row I would want to get off, this would kill 2 birds with one stone. Maybe “kill 2 birds” is a bad choice of words. Anyway, it’s better to be a writer on death row than a painter. Paintings by death row inmates sell too, but you never hear anyone saying, “We should pardon John Wayne Gacy. He makes those clown paintings.” In fact people get all pissed off that people buy the shit. To get people to protest a kids' book it needs to have lesbians or witches in it. SO I will write children’s books with no lesbian witches.

I don’t know what that “flag this blog” thing does, but I think I am just going to start flagging hundreds of blogs to see what happens.

I am assuming that the ex I was considering dating has lost interest. Normally I would be more upset, but I guess things have changed for me. I can’t really say the idea of a girlfriend interests me, and I am pretty sure that is where she was headed. I may give her a call just to kind of end things instead of leaving it hanging. I am curious what her reaction will be, but mostly because I think she feels the same way. Both of us have a problem with the distance and schedules, and I just know we want different things. That’s life.

I suppose I should update you on the roof. Yeah, they’re almost all done. There is a small stretch in the back that will be finished tomorrow. My legs and back are killing me. It appears that climbing up and down the ladder, as well as the roof, is not something my muscles enjoy. Can’t say I enjoyed it either to be honest. It takes me a while because I have to do it between the time I stop working (a.k.a. when the boss stops calling) and when the sun goes down. But at least it will soon be done. Then, after 3 weeks, I get to take it down again. Hell, if I’m lucky it will be cold and windy by then, which will make it even more fun. Remind me again why I do this?

I find the phrase “backdoor negotiations” erotic.

I have a story, by the way. There was a girl a couple of years ago I wanted to date. We chatted a lot, but never went out. I got tired of chasing and gave up. That worked out because she had decided to get back with her psycho abusive ex. Well, in the course of their reunion, she got pregnant by the guy. He got possessive and abusive again, and she dumped him again. He didn’t really want to have anything to do with the kid. Makes sense since he has 4 by 3 other women already. He wasn’t supporting any of them, so she knew she wouldn’t get shit from him. But she did start talking to me. Not because she wanted us to go out, but she stopped going out and just wanted someone to talk to.

This is where the single most interesting part of the story comes. As she would tell me about all of the bad things that happened I kind of pointed out that she had made a choice to go back with him. She did have an option. And I was kind of wondering why she didn’t take that option given that the guy in question was such a tool. Her response was that she thought it might not work because I was a white boy. Well, that confused me a little since she had always known I was white. When I asked about that she told me that the thing was, there was something she liked to do that white boys don’t seem to like much. This had me curious, so I asked what it was. She didn’t want to say though, because she was embarrassed. But I kept bugging her so I could find out.

It was anal sex. Yes, she was worried that I would not want to fuck her ass.

Unfortunately I talked to her last week and made a discovery. It is that some women will refer to all weight gained within one year of either direction of the birth of the baby as being “baby weight”. But, for the record, if you weigh 20 pounds more than you did before the baby was born, that is not baby weight. (Yes, I know that’s mean)

I was temporarily outraged today. I was watching football and there was a commercial for a new ice skating show. Now, by itself that didn’t bug me much. I am not a fan, but I am sure there were some people watching that like skating, so I understand showing it, even if I do think Scott Hamilton is really getting to old for this shit. What bugged me was that this new show was basically “Dancing With the Stars On Ice”. Crappy reality shows with celebrities in them are bad enough. But when they start copying each other I start to puke.

But then they showed the training in process and I changed my mind. This was not going to be ice dancing, where they might slip and fall or something. No, this was figure skating. That means they will be throwing each other around the ice and doing things like spinning while holding the chicks by their ankles. That, I am in favor of. I doubt I will watch the show because I still don’t like figure skating. But just knowing that celebrities will be getting injured for my viewing pleasure makes me feel better.

The only thing that bugs me is that these are not big stars. I only wish there were some big stars that were willing to do these shitty shows. I would much rather see big stars crash and burn on the ice than Debi Gibson. Oh, and Debi, the more you insist on being called Deborah, the more I am going to call you Debi. You were everywhere I turned for like 5 years as Debi, so don’t go thinking you can change now. You’re cute and all, but I have to hold you to the name you had drilled in to our heads by the record labels. If you wanted to be Deborah you shoulda changed it then. You don’t think I stopped calling that guy in purple Prince just because he decided he wanted to ditch the name, do you? In fact, I used to call his house just to ask “Is Prince there?” because I knew it pissed him off. At least I think it was Prince. I looked in the phone book and called the one that loo