My Own Personal Piece of Doom Cake

Best Excuse For Getting Drunk All Year

2009-12-24T14:06:00.002-05:00

Big Red Sign Means STOP

2009-12-23T17:40:00.000-05:00

Today the universe conspired against me. The Holidays fought back like a ruthless bastard in my War on the Holidays.

This little fucktard decided that Santa brought him a gift; TOTAL FUCKING IMMUNITY FROM STOP SIGNS.
I should have rammed his pretty new mustang. That would have taught him about STOPPING AT THE BRIGHT RED SIGN. It would have also taught him not to pull out in front of crazy people driving blue Ford Explorers.

If you seem him, give him the one finger "Santa Loves You" salute. He deserves it.

Just when I was decided that I am going to ask for a new Louisville slugger for Christmas so I could deal with bastards like this, I discovered that the worst driving assholes are not all from Texas.

Less than two minutes after the first fucktard ruined my day, this bastard pulled out in front of me as well. Guess what? STOP SIGNS DO NOT APPLY TO THIS BASTARD EITHER.

Too bad he is from Alaska. Seems like they drive like retarded ass monkeys there as well. I wanted to force him off the road and into a stop sign, but there were none to be seen, just stop lights. He deserved to crash though.

Merry Christmas assholes.

Another Reason to Continue the War on Christmas

2009-12-22T00:07:00.000-05:00

How come everyone asks me to "Give them a list" of shit I want for Christmas? Like I really know what I want or a better question is "Are you really going to get me what I REALLY want?"

I mean you ask for a Death Star (not a toy, the REAL FUCKING PLANET DESTROYING THING) and they roll their eyes.

You ask for a cruise missile and everyone starts talking in hushed tones, murmurings about the government coming for me, and shit like that.

You ask for a microwave active denial system and I get blank stares.

If they want a list then they should not be so damned touchy about want I want. How else am I expected to dominate and terrify those around me without the proper tools?
Funny thing is, the three toys get better responses than my request for a "bus load of strippers" and "a case of good whiskey," plus a direct "IV drip of viagra."

I guess some people just cannot get into Christmas spirit. So if you do not want celebrate the Holidays my way, do not get so pissy when I try to make things holidaylicious.

Breakfast Conversations

2009-12-20T15:22:00.000-05:00

My two year old is a constant source of laughs and fear. Part of me thinks she is crazy in a way that medicine or electricity cannot fix.
Take our breakfast conversation from this morning;

Dirturchin#2: "Those people are talking to me Daddy."

Me: "What people? Your sister?"

Dirturchin#2: "No Daddy, them.." Points her fork at a blueberry that has fallen out of her pancake.

Me: "Your blueberries are talking to you?"

Dirturchin#2: Nods her head yes.

Me: "Those are blueberries not people."

Dirturchin#2: "They talk to me."

I let it drop at that point. Part of me wanted to pursue it and the sane part of me did not want to dance that dance without a redbull or two in my system. She is only two years old but apparently as crazy as a shit house rat as my pappy would have said.

I guess I will let this one slide. I will not get too freaked about the blueberries, as long as she does not start telling me God talks to her through the bananas.

Identity Crisis

2009-12-19T17:40:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I wake up and have no clue as to why the crazy speaks so loudly to me. It is not like voices in my head, but more like a low hum in the base of skull where the brain leeches like to feed.

Nothing dangerous mind you, but just the same old feeling that I am not sure which version of "ME" is making appearance on any given day. Been like that my whole life. There is Me, ME, and mE. Do not ask for an explanation, I will just start jabbering about the brain leeches that are sucking on my medulla oblongata and then someone is going to go home with with a headache. Trust me.

Let me try and explain it in a different way.

This is how my daughters view me. This is how they think of daddy. Not too bad being considered as entertaining and reliable as an insane lemur king, but hey it makes me wonder a bit.

This is how a lot of my coworkers view me. Trust me, they tell me to my face. Again I can not argue with being an evil insane genius with the social skills of a serial killer.

This is how my students view me. I still get a laugh out of it.

So see my issue? Who the fuck am I? There are a great many days when the answer completely escapes me. Maybe there is not a good answer. Maybe that is the real truth and maybe it is not a bad thing. No matter what I have some serious issues.

HAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!!

Like that has been a secret for my whole life. I have an extra serving of crazy and it makes me walk in circles and bang my head against the floor so I can play "normal" for everyone. Do not worry, I am not dangerous, at least not in the "ted bundy" kind of way. I am much more of a "Death Star" kind of guy. I like my evil on a grand scale.

So, I am off to have some coffee and decide who I am going to be today. Wonder who I am going to pick?

PS. Here is how I view myself on most days

3 Times the Stupid

2009-12-17T10:37:00.000-05:00

First off I think that an H3 should be renamed PussyCar. If you drive one, it is a lot like drinking light beer. All the flash of real beer, but with the substance of camel piss. If you want to drive a Hummer, man up and drive the real thing, not a Cute H3 that is smaller and more environmentally responsible. Otherwise you are just driving a P3 and you know what the P stands for.

If you want to drive one to work and weave in and out of traffic like a crack head going for his morning fix, stay out of my way. I am pretty sure that the Blue Beast could take an H3, especially when I am finishing off my third redbull of the day.

If you drive a P3, I mean H3, do not stop suddenly at a stop light, open your door, and toss out a fucking bag of fast food trash in front of rush hour witnesses. It took all my self control not to get out of my car, grab my fishing pole, and flog the skin off of your bones right there at the red light. You deserved it.

You also deserve your license plate posted here on the net so other people can see who the asshole in the H3 is. Yeah buddy, I am putting you up here for the whole world to see. EVERYONE needs to know that you drive like a crack head, drive a pussy car, and trash the roads like a fucking fool.

So piss off asshat. I SAW YOU. By the end of the week I might even know where you live.

Nothing Like Being A Political Junky

2009-12-15T01:32:00.007-05:00

People think us Texans are full of shit because we were smart enough to pawn Shrub the Boy Idiot off on them just to get him out of the governor's mansion. Yeah, maybe that backfired a bit, but shit, we had to get rid of him. Not like our state elected him all by ourselves. Some of you other morons helped us with that screw up.

Here is a shout out to my peeps in Houston.
It takes balls to elect a lesbian mayor.
Big Brass Houston Sized Balls.
I love it.

Never thought Houston would pull something like this off, but damn, no one can rake us over the political coals for this one. I hope the conservative republitards are weeping in their soup, rending their hair and clothes, and rubbing ashes into their skin. You backwards small minded fucks deserve it.

I love the voters in Houston.
Anise Parker could be the worst mayor the town has ever had.
I do not give a shit.

I hope every time she speaks a republitard drops dead.
I hope her super lesbian powers cause the republitards to lose the power of speech.

Time to have a beer for my friends in H-Town.
You folks made me proud.

Don't Blink, You Could Miss Something Fun

2009-12-14T23:30:00.000-05:00

If you do not live in Texas, then you might take a pass on this one. Then again, the last time the nation took a pass on Texas Politics you dumb asses wound up with Shrub the Boy Idiot and Darth Chaney his evil side kick.
So maybe you ought to grab a pen, pull up a chair, and take notes.

First up is Governor Good Hair. If you do not know him, give it a shot and google "Is Rick Perry Gay?" Used to be this led to the website for electing is main competitor. Not sure where it goes today. Governor Good Hair is who we got when Shrub bent the nation over the table and gave good old USA some rough prison love. I think the local republitards want him to step out of the picture, but he is going to fight for his rights and the governor's mansion no matter what anyone thinks.

The only problem he faces is that fact that a lot of us know he is an ass monkey and his opponent for the republitard nomination is probably far more evil than he can even imagine. Trust me on that one. Governor Good Hair is probably not going to have a clue how evil she is till he is standing with his own guts around his ankles while she cackles and sheaths her bowie knife.

Kay Bailey Hutchinson has been one of Senators from the Good State of Texas for as long as I can remember. Hell, not only is it my election day ritual to vote against her, but I have even been in the Gallery at the Capital Building and watched her deliver some mindless speech to three drunken pages, and four sleeping senators.

What Governor Good Hair does not get is that the conservative Republitards love her and she could probably give birth to Darth Vader on Monday morning and wrestle an alligator with her bare hands by the end of the day. She is one tough evil old woman and she prospered in Washington under the reign of Shrub the Boy Idiot. Her and Good Hair are going to have bloody republitard death match over who gets to put their name on that ballot for governor. My money is on her. She can bitch slap the gel straight out of Governor Good Hair.

The Demotards are also ass deep in issues.

The first is Kinky. I am sad enough that he gave up the ship on being an independent candidate and joined the demotards in a serious attempt to beat the survivor of the Good Hair vs Darth Hutchinson battle in the general election. I get the shakes just thinking about having a Jewish Cowboy as my governor. I would say it gives me some serious wood, but I have issues enough without going there. Just remember, it is politics, nothing more.

Now signing up as a free agent with the demotards sounds like a great move when you first read it, then you read about this guy in the news.

Bill White is the now Former Mayor of Houston. I do not live in Houston and could never vote for him, but I would. I like him. In Houston you either hate him or love him. I love him. White attacks problems like a pit bull on meth. If there is a problem, he will come up with all sorts of answers and try every damn one of them till something works. I like a stubborn problem solver like that.

The only problem is that the two best candidates have to duke it out in the demotard primary. The poor bastards have to fight each other rather than work together to dethrone the republitards.

See about paying attention?
When made politics happen in Texas the rest of country winds up getting the old butt rape scenario at some point. Not sure how it is going to work this time, but something evil is brewing and it stinks of political swine.

Stay tuned for far more election fun here in Texas

Sunday Morning Thoughts

2009-12-13T01:07:00.003-05:00

Things that bother me

2009-12-12T23:07:00.000-05:00

And it Starts to Bubble

2009-12-09T17:16:00.001-05:00

Remember how I told everyone my problem was that I was not angry enough? Well toss that claim on the trash heap and lets get this anger thing rolling.

I read this today and I remembered what it feels like to be angry.
Now I am not that thrilled that we have to have some sort of corporate pay czar, but the fact that we have handed out a 180 billion dollars to these dumb asses to keep them from going belly up is even less appealing. To top it off with the fact that when warned they were going to get their bloated executive pay checks cut because they are already bleeding the corpse of AIG dry like giant ticks, they threatened to quit.

Yeah, I read that part correctly and I still do not understand.

1. Company is broke.
2. Government loans them 180 BILLION AMERICAN TAX PAYER DOLLARS to bail them out
3. Investment portion of the company hands out millions of dollars in bonus pay.
4. Federal Pay Czar slashes pay of top execs
5. Top execs threaten to quit it their zillion dollar salaries are touched.

What am I missing?
I have a few college level economic courses under my belt and when 1 & 2 happens, the company should buckle down, do better business, and cut costs.

AIG does not seem to understand this.
I bet if we burned one of their vacation homes to the ground they might listen.
What if they were sold on ebay for spare parts to pay off some of AIG debts?

If I was the Federal Pay Czar and this boat load of bastards rolled up in my face screaming that "CUT OUR PAY AND WE WILL QUIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I would simply laugh, shoot them both barrels of the old Middle Finger Gun, and offer up some of my dead pappy's advice; "Don't let the door knob hit ya where the good lord split ya."
In other words, do not let the door hit you in the ass on the way out because you are FIRED!

As federal pay czar one of my Constitutionally mandated powers would have to be the much feared "foot in the ass" fine.
Run a company into the ground, take government money, then flaunt all respect for America by having a salary so bit it has to be delivered in an 18-wheeler, and threatening to quit and ruin the company if I cut your pay, would all result in my having the right to put my size 10.5 foot so far up your ass that you would need a team of doctors to get it out.

Damn this pisses me off.
I just lack the words to really get it out in a decent manner.
I think I need to go find myself a Fortune 500 CEO and beat the hell out of him.
It might make me feel a little better

Anger leads to Hate; Hate leads to GOOD BLOGGING

2009-12-08T23:17:00.000-05:00

I am back. I am no longer on strike, but I have stepped away from blogging for a day or two to do a little self inspection.

I figured it out.
I am blahh about blogging because I am not angry.
It takes a lot of inner hate and rage to keep something like Doom Cake going at a full tilt boogie. It takes Anger on a level that would melt most folks shoes to the floor if they were standing in my skin for just a few seconds to run something like this blog and I just do not seem to have it.

Do not go out and get all lovey dovey on me. I do not need some sort of great big group internet blogger hug. If you think I need a hug, send $20 to my paypal account so I can get a hug from a 25 year old stripper. Trust me. That will make me feel better for all of two minutes.

What I really need is some rage. Some anger. Some hate. I need to get pissed off and start sharpening my toys.

After eight years of Shrubco and the boy idiot's reign of stupid, I must be burned out. Maybe I am tired. Anger is a hard thing to keep up for eight years. It will wear a man down to blunt nub of a human being.

So what am I to do?
I need to get my anger on.
I need to warm up the Hate-O-Tron 6000 and dial it all the way to 11.
It is time for a full tilt rage of that is 1000% Old Testament.
Think Moses coming down off the Mountain and getting all worked up over the golden calf.
Multiply that by 1000 and that is what I need.

So I am here.
Doom Cake is working.
I am hunting something to piss me off.
Just thinking about being so pissed off that my kidneys secrete blood instead of urine is getting me in a better mood. Sometimes just imagining this kind of anger is enough to get the blood pumping.

Sit back.
Buy the ticket.
Lets hope I can deliver one hell of a ride.

Management Skills 101

2009-12-06T10:25:00.002-05:00

Things I learned from a 4 year old

2009-12-05T10:25:00.000-05:00

So THE MAN understands

2009-12-03T23:16:00.000-05:00

And if you know what I am talking about then you get the point. If you do not, then who gives a shit. Go burn and pillage a bit. It will make you feel better. If I was French, I would torch the whole damned country tonight and tomorrow.

I am an American though, so I will have a beer and think bad thoughts about THE MAN.
Here is to bosses that I would kill for and you know who you are. I still got your back no matter what.

If Only they Would Paint these on my Ceiling Instead

2009-12-02T16:29:00.000-05:00

My classroom would be a cathedral if they would torture themselves and draw these on the ceiling tiles.
Can you feel their love?

Grandma's Revenge

2009-11-30T18:38:00.000-05:00

This is singing Santa. He stands about two feet tall and was a gift to us from my mother about two years ago. This thing is a miracle of modern technology that is wrong on more than one level. It lights up from a zillion fibre optic lights and sings a horrible loop of Christmas carols while doing some sort of satanic dance. Two things make singing Santa the most horrible holiday decoration ever; 1)My children love to listen to him sing his endless loop of carols for hours on end and 2)80% of the time he channels the soul of some hellbound chipmunk and sings his songs at triple speed.

Think of soul crushing it must be to listen to Alvin the chipmunk's voice shooting out of singing Santa for eight hours a day. The only thing worse than that is the constant wailing and screaming that goes on from my children when I shut singing Santa off and threaten to burn him alive in the back yard.

Of course my wife is the only one to suffer the full wrath since Singing Santa has only been out of the attic for about 24 hours, but I convinced my little ones that it would be easier to hear their favorite cartoon show if the shut off the evil chipmunk channeling Santa for a little while. I am really scared because my Santa stomach is already full of hate and it is not even December yet. Good Ole Singing Santa might suffer a stroke this holiday season and have to be put down with the 16 gauge. I will use any excuse to allow me to blast Santa into his next life and allow me to have some holiday silence.

Thanks mom. I really love you for this one.

Here I go Again

2009-11-29T21:06:00.000-05:00

While Dante seemed like a guy who had it going on and knew a thing or two about Hell, I do not think he had a good grip on the Holiday Season.

I, on the other hand, hate the holidays. That is nothing new. I am at the point in my life when begging for huge dose of ativan, xanax, and vicodin to make it through the holidays is no longer humiliating. It is a necessity.

The good news is that I made it through Thanksgiving. Two celebrations at two different houses on two different days. I survived. Nothing crazy went down at my mom's house so that was one less level of holiday hell for me to worry about and after yesterday, I finished off the last round of Thanksgiving at the inlaws. All is good, for now.

Today I dragged the sixty containers of Christmas decorations out of the attic. This little bit of torture is the act which marks the end of my Thanksgiving suffering and begins the month long Christmas in Hell celebration that I enjoy so damned much. Good news is I got the damn boxes down, stuffed them in various rooms around the house and laughed at the missus. I will not help decorate. Not one freakin bit. Well, let me rephrase that. I will install the giant inflatable Santa and Snowman because a)It is the last act of holiday decorating and no one else will touch them and b)if I set them up correctly the wind will blow them over in such a manner that it appears Santa is taking it up the butt from Frosty the Snowman. Yeah, I am evil that way.

So happy holidays. I have one more month of this shit to suffer through. I wish the president would declare a national emergency and cancel the month of December.

Happy Day After Thanksgiving

2009-11-27T16:41:00.000-05:00

Letter to Lady by the Egg Display Case

2009-11-25T16:52:00.000-05:00

Dearest Ass-hat,

I understand your excitement at finding a long lost cousin in the grocery store on the day before Thanksgiving. I also understand your excitment for seeing her daughter that you had not see in years. What I do not understand is your unnaturally stupid desire to block the entire fucking egg case with your basket while you caugh up with your long lost cousin.

The first time I said "Excuse me, ma'am," and you glanced my way with that shitty look and returned to gabbing with your long lost cousin, I really meant, "Could you please move your cart?" I guess you missed the hint because you did not budge an inch.

The second time I gently said "Excuse me, ma'am," and you glanced my way with an extra nasty "eat shit and die you worthelss bastard" look and then went back to gabbing with your long lost cousin, I really meant "Move your fat ass lady before I slap the back of your inbred fucking head with this can of creamed corn," but again you missed the gentle hint because you are either deaf, stupid, or just fucking inconsiderate.

The third time I less than politely said "Excuse me, ma'am," pushed your cart out of my way, opened the display case door and got my eggs, I really meant "Out of my you stupid bitch before I punch you in the fucking throat and kick you in the kidneys hard enough to make you piss blood for a month," and you still did not get the hint. You grunted like a water buffalo, gave me a dirty look, and kept telling your cousin how much you miss her while not making ONE SINGLE FUCKING MOTION TO MOVE YOUR CART!

In short, you are lucky that you are going to be alive for your next Thanksgiving feast at this point. Tomorrow your family should be very thankful that their rude as shit mother was not brutally stomped to death in the supermarket by a guy who just wanted some eggs. It took all of my self control and the fact that I had just run 3 miles and was near exhausten to keep you alive. One more shitty look from you and I would have made a bloody smear of you right there in front of eggs. I would have felt more sorry for the stocker that would have had to mop your remains off the floor than I would have for you. Part of me bets that your family would have celebrated Thanksgiving just fine knowing that you were no longer going to be there to ruin their lives.

So be thankful that I was too tired to beat you like a rented mule. Be thankful that your long lost cousin did not have to witness a brutal act of holiday violence. Be very fucking thankful that I did not put my groceries in the car and come back inside with my tire iron looking to spread some holiday cheer.

Sincerely,

Doom Cake

Bringing the Pain

2009-11-24T10:35:00.000-05:00

Budwiser Makes Me Want to Puke

2009-11-23T22:25:00.000-05:00

Not only is AB not American Owned anymore, but if you live in Texas and drink this shit

Then you deserve to crap your pants in public and be laughed at. Really. Bud Light Wheat? PLEEEZE.

This is not only brewed in Texas, but it tastes great.
Forget that Bud Light shit.
Drink a real wheat beer.

The Global War Against The Holidays

2009-11-22T21:55:00.000-05:00

Somethings I find Funny

2009-11-21T15:33:00.000-05:00

A Photo Essay: Texas Dumbass

2009-11-20T15:52:00.000-05:00