The World According to JP

I'm An Idiot...

2008-03-11T08:12:00.000-07:00

...or should I say a fucking idiot?

Once upon a time, yours truly had a truly benevolent notion. I would move from Kissimmee, Florida to Cheboygan, Michigan and eventually to Portland, Oregon and live out my days as a happy, healthy, studly human being. You know what they say about best laid plans, right? Well, if you don't, let me tell you, best laid plans SUCK!!!

It's been over two years since I've posted anything on this site. The stress finally got to yours truly. The well was dry. Dry as a hooker working dollar beer night down at the local tavern. Too much stress. Too many problems. Too much life happening to me all at once. There was a time when I looked up to the heavens and said out loud, "How much more do you expect me to take before I go on a four-state killing spree?" It's been a long road, with many more miles ahead of me.

Anyhow, I digress. Back to the suckiness of laying plans. When I found out "we" were pregnant with G-Doggy, all I could think of was getting the fuck out of Florida and heading West for greener pastures and a better life. After Mozilla came along, I really thought I was set in Portland for life. Then, it happened. I started thinking. Actually, I started over-thinking. I overthought EVERYTHING. I got caught up in the Nation of What If. As in:

What if this is all there ever will be in my life?

What if the waif (what I called the wifeola) and I were only supposed to create two children and call it quits?

What if I wouldn't have met the waif?

What if this is the best you can ever do money-wise and job-wise?

What if there's a better life waiting for you somewhere?

The answers started to come in a flood:

It's not supposed to be like this;

Maybe you should call it quits;

You'd probably be blissfully happy, but you wouldn't have the two human beings that you wouldn't trade for all of the world;

It's not. You're an intelligent, high-functioning, goddamn good looking human being. Surely you can have a better career. (Ok, good looking wasn't in the answer I was looking for).

You should go find a better life. You deserve it, you fucking stud.

Do you see where I went wrong? I wish I would have.

Yes, I pulled up stakes back in July and moved to Utah (where? - EXACTLY). I cannot say that I like it here. Actually, I dislike it a lot. It's too conservative, political and Mormon-ish for me. Now before the haters start, let me say that I don't have anything against Mormons as individuals. But when they assemble in large groups, look the fuck out. Let's just say that shit gets done. Not good shit either. We're talking about a large portion of the population deciding what is right and what is wrong for you, so you don't have to burden yourself with making a decision about anything. I love drinking the 3.2% alcohol here. Of course, now when I go back to Portland or to Vegas and am in the vicinity of a bar I become drunk beyond recognition. I love the fact that I have had 4 friends DUI'd since I moved here. In the 15 years I lived in Florida and the following 11 that I spent in Portland, I only had 2 friends that had been DUI'd...now I know 4 in a shade under 9 months?? What.The.FUCK?!? Yes, they wait outside the bars at night and watch. When someone gets in their car and drives away, they find some bullshit reason to pull them over and guess what? I know they have officially scared me straight. If I go out and the girlfriend orders an alcoholic-type beverage, I drink water. All night. I refuse to be the 5th personally known DUI.

There are some good things about this place also. I love the house I live in. Love the view out of my front window and back yard. Love that I'm 4 blocks from the trailheads so that I can take the 3 dogs hiking whenever the mood strikes (yes, it strikes a lot). My jobs (yes, I have 2, child support be damned) are better than the average bear's jobs here. You can buy a lot of house for fewer dollars than on the West Coast. The house we live in would fetch upwards of $350k in Portland. We paid just shy of $215k.

But it comes down to this - I honestly wish that I never would have moved out of Florida. I have lived all over the place, but Kissimmee, Florida is my home. I get that achy feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I think about what my life was like. Was it utopia? No. Was it perfect? Hell no. But was I one lucky bastard to have been raised in the shadows of Walt Disney World? Hell FUCK yes!! Why wouldn't I have wanted that for my kids? What was I thinking?

Ever since Nanny (my grandmother, not a 21 year-old caregiver) died, it's like I'm incapable of making a correct life decision. I think my brain is short circuited. I'm so indecisive, so unsure of myself, so fucking regretful that I can't even stand myself anymore.

It's a shame. I was in the perfect place for me. I was too stupid to realize it. Now I live in the anti-perfect place for me. And I'm FUCKING miserable.

Yes, I Was Dead...

2006-03-03T20:50:00.000-08:00

As IF it's any business of yours. Dead, buried and no longer around. I planned to stay that way too. However, I decided to raise myself from the ashes and post again.

Holy fuck, how melodramatic was that? No, I wasn't dead. I wasn't even sick. However, it's been awhile since I've felt together enough to post.

The long and short of it is that I got fired. Yes, me. Fired. And the reason? This blog. When I posted my female masturbation list, one of the IT geeks in Seattle just happened to be monitoring what I was doing. Well, he passed this lovely little website on to the senior partner at the big firm in Seattle who called the office manager at my office in Portland and told her that he wanted me gone by the end of the day. Nice.

Never mind that the post took me literally 10 seconds to post, since I had it saved as a draft. Never mind that I was on my break. Never mind that I was on top of my work from day one, never fudged my hours for billing purposes. Never mind that I was there every day from 7:15 to 5. Never mind that I busted my ass for them. Yeah, all that was out the window because of this website. So, as you can imagine I was a little bitter toward this place for awhile.

Yes, they claimed that I violated the "sexual harrassment" policy at their nice little firm. I asked how, exactly, did I do that since I never sent anyone at work my link. Never told anyone at work about this website. Never even hinted about it. She had no answer for that one. She only said, "It's out of my hands."

Then, I pointed out that I had worked the day before, which was MLK day (office was closed), and had I known this, I wouldn't have come in. After that, I said something about this being a supremely bad day all of a sudden to which she said, "Believe me, I didn't imagine my day being like this. I was home doing something and had to come in to do this." I looked her in the face and deadpanned, "Yeah, it's much worse for you considering after this you get to go back to your nice office and your $100,000 a year salary with as many days off as you can get away with." She asked if she'd have to call security.

At that point, I told her that no, you don't need security. See, I'd really have to give a shit about the company in order to go ballistic. Looking back, I really didn't give a shit. Don't get me wrong, I love doing what I do, but the last firm I was at has problems with how they treat their employees. Everyone is just a number. They give you just enough perks to keep you from slashing everyone's tires on the way out the door for the weekend. Also, it's hard to work for a company that is so intent on screwing the little guy out of every last cent they can. I really just didn't care. In that respect, they did me a favor.

So, after I collected belongings, she walked me out the back, watched me get on the elevator (as if I had any inclination about running back into the office and getting naked or something) and walked back to her cushy job and shitty law firm. Scoreboard me for the moment.

The first couple weeks were great. I took my kids to school AND picked them up. I did some projects I've been putting off for a long time now. Surfed the net on my own terms. Thought about what was important to me. Basically, I reconnected with my life.

However, after the first month, when I had seriously started looking for a job, I saw how different the market is this year. I really thought that I'd have a job with a comparable salary within a couple weeks. Well, we're going on Week 7 and I still haven't found it.

My savings account has dwindled to almost non-existent and the pressure is on. I have managed to keep myself afloat for the past couple weeks by doing some temp work and some side work for another attorney. I don't mind the temp work, but something's gotta change soon. I'd prefer to sell my Suburban and/or trade it in, not have the bank come get it. The problem is that if I sold my Suburban, I'd have to go get a new car and I don't know any banks that will loan moolah to a dude with a temp job and no clear definable income. Oh well, I'll just keep making that payment somehow.

So, here I am at ANOTHER cross-road. I found myself in a similar situation last year when I was told I was being laid off. The main diffence being that I had a new job the next week.

It's been a stellar 12 months for JP. Two forced job changes (one still pending), one divorce and no more savings account. A little word of advice, when you save money for a rainy day, make sure you save twice as much as you think you need because it NEVER goes as far as you think it will.

Anyhow, this has degenerated into a long, boring diatribe. I just wanted to let all you guys know what was up. I consider you my friends and wanted to put something here for awhile now, but just didn't feel up to it.

Hopefully soon we'll be back to our regularly scheduled ranting.

The Mid-Season TV Lineup

2006-01-28T21:47:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know it's been a long time since I posted on here. I don't think I'm ready to talk about what's been going on with me, so I have worked on a new post to keep you guys entertained. Hopefully, I will get my thoughts organized enough soon to give you some sort of explanation.

Until then, here are some of the TV shows I expect to come out soon. I mean, network television is getting so redundant, isn't it? I hope that someone from TV land picks up on these.

*THE NEW CREW*

OBJECTION! (ABC, Sundays, 9:00)
When was the last time you experienced a courtroom drama chock full of lawyer jargon? Sure, "The Practice" is up there, but there's all that other stuff going on and that fat bitch. Who cares? "Objection!" promises a higher objections-per-minute ratio than any show in the history of television. With "Objection!", your intake of good courtroom drama will only be overruled by your sustained pleasure. And that's admissable.

Godot's Not Here, Man (FOX, Mondays, 9:00)
Legendary one-joke funnymen Cheech and Chong reunite after twenty years, lighting up your television screen with this minimalist show about two burnouts, Pedro and Estragon, hitchhiking on the side of the interstate of life. This very existential program explores base human relationships, man's eternal struggles, and new ways to incorporate the word "man" into otherwise logical conversation. Some nudity.

JUDGING REINHOLD (NBC, Thursdays, 8:30)
Two parts "Night Court" and one part "The John Larroquette Show," TV's newest and funniest judge, played delightfully by Judge Reinhold (last seen in "The Dumpster in Back of My Apartment Complex"), will surely sentence you to a lethal injection of giggles. It's gavel to gavel comedy as the lawyers and bailiffs are even wackier than the plaintiffs and defendants! "Judging Reinhold" is one jury duty you don't wanna have your friend bloody up your face to get you out of.

BOOBS (WB, Fridays, 9:30)
Those folks over at the WB are looking a little bit like Fox in the early '90s with this candidly titled program. In "Boobs," two brothers (Anthony Michael Hall and Fisher Stevens) co-own a plastic surgery clinic that specializes in breast augmentation. If staring at "Boobs" for half an hour while tickling your funny bone is your idea of a good time, perhaps the WB has your prescription.

*THE GAME SHOW CIRCUIT*

WHO WANTS TO GOOSE A MILLIONAIRE? (ABC, Tuesdays, 8:00)
The geniuses at ABC have done it again, this time giving ordinary Americans the chance to goose past winners of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?" Like "Who Wants To Be...," "Who Wants To Goose" is a variation on the British version of the show. The main difference is that host, Regis Philbin, sucks cock for extra cash.

THE GREAT RACE II (CBS, Wednesdays, 9:00)
Neo-Nazis compete for cash and prizes.

SURVIVOR 4: OBSCURITY (CBS, Wednesdays, 8:00)
Members of the band Survivor outwit, outlast, and outdo each other as the last Survivor not to commit suicide gets like a Chia Pet or something. Hosted by Frank Stallone.

*SPINOFF CENTRAL*

THAT 30S SHOW (FOX, Mondays, 8:30)
From the shmucks who brought you "That '70s Show," this hip new show guides us through one of our nation's other beloved decades: those wacky 1930s. A candy bar cost a penny and bread cost a nickel, but laughter? She was free.Watch these kooky kids and their hoky hijinks as they try to catch a buzz on economic failure and stay one step in front of their nosy neighbor, crochety Mr. Hitler (Tom Selleck). "That '30s Show" will certainly cure any great depression.

DHARMA & GRACE (NBC, Thursdays, 9:00)
The peacock network finally struts its stuff with this daisy of a show, called "the best program of the new fall season" by my penis. Free-spirited Dharma and clothing-optional Grace make every schoolboy's dream come true (and quite sticky) with this wonderful show about lesbians and the girls who love them. If you like gals kissing each other, this very well might make up for that teddy bear Santa never got you that one Christmas, that heartless bastard.

SABRINA THE COLLEGE-AGE WITCH (UPN, Who Cares?)
The lovable vixen Sabrina is all grown up now and she's off to college. This time around, Sabrina is no longer played by Melissa Joan Hart, but by my ex-girlfriend, Leann, who went Wiccan before our messy breakup and then put a curse on my transmission to spite me. "Sabrina the College-Age Witch" is a little different than the teenage equivalent because Sabrina dies in the first episode and then the rest of the show pretty much revolves around me and my militia of whores.

MY ACHING WOODY (NBC, Thursdays, 9:30)
After beating Satan in a game of marbles, ex-bartender Woody Boyd (Woody Harrelson) is granted one unconditional wish. That one wish? The power to prescribe medical marijuana. Things get interesting when Robert Downey, Jr., Charlie Sheen and Gary Busey move in next door.

THE QUEEN OF KINGS (CBS, Tuesdays, 8:00)
An obese cardshark, Chloe (Camryn Mannheim), who knows when to hold 'em, knows when to fold 'em, and knows when to roll away will certainly deal her way into your heart with "The Queen of Kings." Even though she's in a wheelchair, she can still have a good time, especially when she gets back home to hubbie, Ace (David Caruso). You'll laugh hysterically at the soon-to-be-famous episode where Chloe enters a lard-eating contest. If you like to hit on 17, then you, sir, are what I call a cradle robber.

The Definitive Female Masterbation Terminology List

2006-01-17T08:51:00.000-08:00

Ok, for all of you out there that are sick of the same ol', same ol' terminology when it comes to female masterbation, here is a whole list of terms to choose from. Feel free to add any I've left off.

Digging a Trench
Doing your Nails
Dousing the Digits
Drilling For Oil
Engaging in Safe Sex
Erasing the Problem
Fanning the Fur
Feeding the Bearded Clam
Feeding your Slot
Fiddling the Bean
Fingerbating
Fingerpainting
Finger Blasting
Flickin' the Bean
Flit your Clit
Fucking Without Complications
Gagging the Clam
Gagging the Lips of Love
Genital Stimulation via Phalangetic Motion
Get a Date with Slick Mittens
Get a Lube Job
Get To Know Yourself
Get a Stinky Pinky
Going Mining
Groping the Grotto
Greasing your Hips
Grissle Rub
Gusset Typing
Having Sex With Someone you Love
Hee-Haw with wrinkled Mee-Maw
Hitchhiking South
Hitchhiking to Heaven
Hitchhiking Under the Big Top
Jillin' Off
Let the Fingers do the Walkin'
Levy Break Limbo
Making Soup
Manual Override
Muffin Buffin'
Nulling the Void
Paddling the Pink Canoe
Pampering the Pussy
Parting the Red Sea
Pearl Fishing
Pet the Petunia
Pet the Pussy Cat
Polishing the Nugget
Polishing the Peanut
Polishing the Pearl
Play Poker
Play the Clitar
Play Couch Hockey for One
Play the Silent Trumbone
Playing With Her Pineapple
Playing with Mrs. Palmer's Five Daughters
Playing With the Man in the Boat
Pushing the Button
Peeling the Asian Pear
Pussy Soccer
Riding the Unicycle
Rolling the Dough
Rubbin' the Nubbin
Rubbing the Donut
Rubbing the Red Pussycat
Scoring the Hoop
Soaking the Whisker Biscuit
Spelunking
Spearing the Bearded Clam
Squeeze the Peach
Strumming
Strumming the Banjo
Surfing the Channel
Teasing the Kitty
Teasing the Tuna Taco
Testing the Plumbing
The Virgin's Release
Tickling the Taco
Tiptoe Through the TwoLips
Toggling the Bit
Tossing Pink Salad
Three Point Shot
Trolling the Bermuda Triangle
Two Finger Taco Tango
Washing your Fingers
Night in With the Girls
Airing the Orchid
Auditioning the Finger Puppets
Beat the Beaver
Beating Around the Bush
Brushing The Beaver
Buff the Weasle
Carpet Bumping
Cat Got Tongue
Checking for Squirrels
Clam Bake for One
Cleaning your Fingers
Clitters
Coming Into Your Own
Creamin'
Coming Into Your Own
Cunt Cuddling
Dialing the Rotary Phone

An Open Letter to Porn

2006-01-12T16:07:00.000-08:00

Dear Porn,

Hi there, how are you doing? It seems to me like you're thriving - you're a multi-billion-dollar worldwide industry and there's more of you out there every day, in new forms, with new perversions, expanding into more markets all the time. Your mother must be so proud.

Don't worry about not recognizing me - you don't know me, but we actually have a long history together. I won't go into the full story, but just let me say that I've done some crazy shit for you, stuff that I'm not entirely proud of...but that's not to say that you didn't reciprocate, of course. I mean, you completely changed my life three times - first, when I discovered masturbation, second, when I got a TV and VCR in my own room, and third, when I discovered that I could find you on the internet. Mind-blowing stuff...and now that I'm living by myself and am currently single, I can see you any time I want for as long as I want. This is like our Golden Age together, except for one slight problem. I didn't notice it at first, but as we spent more and more time together it became pretty obvious.

You suck, dude.

And I'm not trying to make some sort of cute pun here - you really do suck. You're awful, horrible, poorly made, and I can think of a whole list of huge problems that you have.

First off, you don't make any fucking sense. I mean, have you ever sat down and actually tried to watch one of your "features" straight through? If your plot isn't some needlessly complicated, convoluted mishmash of nightmarish editing, it's so utterly simple that non-sex scenes consist of little more than "Hey, we know each other, let's fuck." I realize that creating plausible situations for characters to have sex while only having 5-minute bursts of plot in which to do it in is difficult, but with that in mind, why bother? There are fewer people that watch a movie of you for the plot than read Playboy for the articles (if that's even possible). But I guess I can overlook that since I usually can only watch (read "last") about 11.5 minutes of you at a time.

Next, let's talk direction. Do any of the people who direct you have any clue what in hell they're doing? Here's just a few of the egregious errors most directors make:

1) The Extended Close-up: You know, this may surprise you, but anyone who's watched you for more than five minutes knows exactly what a penis going in and out of a vagina looks like. Especially when it's a close-up shot, where all you can see is pussy, cock, and pubic hair (except when it's a doggy-style shot, where all you can see is pussy, cock, balls, pubic hair, and a pair of asses). And do you know exactly what a close-up shot of a penis going in and out of a vagina looks like?

EVERY OTHER SINGLE FUCKING CLOSE-UP SHOT OF A PENIS GOING IN AND OUT OF A VAGINA THAT HAS EVER BEEN COMMITTED TO FILM IN HUMAN HISTORY, THAT'S WHAT! Okay? Do you get it now? We've seen it, and we've seen it a million times, and it never looks any different! It's not like you can even tell who's actually doing the fucking just by looking at the close-up, like some warped version of "Name That Tune" - so why do you feel the need to spend 45 seconds out of every minute showing it to us? Could we please actually see what's going on in the rest of the scene, and maybe show some breasts or, god forbid, the woman's face, for once?

2) The Guy Shot: Now what the hell is the point of this? Go out on the street and randomly poll people - 99% of them are going to tell you that women are better looking than men, and 100% of them are going to say that female porn stars are better looking than male porn stars (Ron Jeremy is smart and funny and all, but let's admit it, dude is fucking ugly). So why the hell do you randomly, all of a sudden, switch to a shot of either just the guy's face or just the guy's upper body or something for 30 seconds? Most guys in porn don't bother acting while they're fucking anyway, so all you really get is 30 seconds of not showing anything remotely interesting. And do you know how much it sucks to be jerking off, start to come, and then get stuck with a Guy Shot? You know it's too late and there's nothing you can do about it, but you'd rather be doing anything else than coming at that particular moment. (The nearest equivalent I can think of is prepping a launch of a missile, pressing the fire button, and all of a sudden realizing you've just launched it at your own house.)

3) The Acting: Can this get any worse? It's bad enough that the acting during the plot segments is wooden at best, but then when you get to the sex scenes themselves, it stays universally awful. First, there's girls who break the fourth wall and look at the camera when the cameraman isn't part of the scene. Girls, if you're in control enough to look all sultry at the camera, we can tell you're bullshitting. Secondly, girls, don't continue moaning after the guy has pulled out and is jerking off above you. Nobody is stimulating you in any way - who the hell do you think you're fooling? Thirdly, you could replace the guys in porn with pieces of plywood that have strap-ons attached to them, and there wouldn't be much difference.

(And speaking of the guys, what the hell is with most of you needing to jerk off to come? Here you are, having sex with women that most guys would give their non-masturbating arms to fuck, and they can't even get you off? That just seems wrong somehow.)

4) Recycled footage: How fucking dumb do you think we are? If you take the same 90-second loop of footage and use it two, three, or even four times during one scene - news flash! - we can tell, you idiots!

5) Outside shots: Sorry, but your directors need to learn the concept of light and shadow, because when you do a shitty job of dealing with light, all the shadow means that you can't see a damned thing. And I know it's outside and there are billions of insects out there, but seeing those little black flies or gnats flying around while trying to watch some Asian pear tasting is really a turnoff.

6) Anal: Look, porn, if I were into watching the gay version of you, I'd understand this. Guys not only have the nerve endings in the asshole itself, we have the prostate too, so it makes sense. But women? All they have is the nerve endings way down at the end, and with the amount of testimonials I've heard from real women who swear against it, why do you perpetuate this myth that women like taking it up the ass? Not only that, but when a girl sucks a cock after it's been up her ass, I don't feel like jerking off, I feel like cringing. I feel like puking. I feel like stabbing myself in the eyes with a nail file. I feel like doing anything but jerking off. What does one have to do to make that sanitary, give her a pre-fuck bleach enema?

Direction aside, there's all sorts of other stuff that stinks about you, porn. For every decent boob job, there's six girls who have obvious scars and stretch marks or look like they've had a pair of cantaloupe-sized lumps of Silly Putty stuck to their chests. For every Chasey Lain, there's three skanky-looking girls you wouldn't screw even if you were falling-down drunk and had the option of using someone else's dick. For every ten seconds' worth of actually arousing imagery, there's twenty minutes of uninspriring tedium. And worst of all, for every hour that I've spent watching you, downloading you, sneaking around my parents' house looking for you, and thinking about you in general, there's an hour that I could have spent been doing something else a million times more worthwhile, like expanding my knowledge to help me become a multi-millionaire. But, alas, it's not to be.

You suck, porn. See you tonight.

Sincerely,
-Lifetime Porn Watcher #10,495,102,867

Personal Ads

2006-01-10T08:13:00.000-08:00

Even though I'm newly single, I really don't ever see myself having to write or answer a personal ad, but you never know when the need will arise. When I was married, I used to read the personal ads as a source of entertainment. However, now I read them for research. Here is the difference between a personal ad a woman would write and one a man would write.

Women's posting:

You MUST:

- Be over 6'2"
- Be in great shape.
- Be great looking.
- Be educated. I have a masters degree AND a law degree. That means I am really smart. Did I mention I have a masters degree AND a law degree? Even though deep down I know I am not that bright I can hide behind these degrees and pretend I am - phewww!:)
- Have a great job and make lots of money. If you aren't a doctor or lawyer you aren't good enough cuz they are really, really smart but more importantly they will make my best girlfirends jealous (bitches !).
- Be able to impress my friends and make them envious and jealous. Oops I think I mentioned that above. Just want to make sure you know what your main purpose is.
- Not be too domineering but you aren't a momma's boy either. Meaning whatever mood I am in I will tell you how to act.
- Like wine. I like Shiraz cuz it's Australian and I am really worldly and only know Merlot and Shiraz and Shiraz sounds more sophisticated.
- Be well travelled. The bus tour in London was great and staying at the Paris Hilton just screams culture. It means you are smart, attractive and cultured if you travel, cuz getting on a plane and staying at the Hilton takes lots of brains and skill.
- Like jewelry. Tiffany is my very favorite - it is just wonderful. I love wearing a dog tag around my neck that reads someone elses name. Besides only 20 million other women have it. I feel so special wearing the same thing everyone else does.
- Like Starbucks. Even though their coffee really sucks and is way overpriced I must have it. What would someone think if they saw me walking with a plain styrofoam cup ???
- Like fine cars. As with jewelry, I have very unique taste in cars as well - BMW or Mercedes.
- Love Sex and the City because like the girls on the show I have whored around a ton (I will never admit that to you though) but seeing it done on TV makes it OK. Because they aren’t just whores, they are rich women looking for love! They represent sophisticated, educated, tasteful, classy girls like me. If you are a yuppie and spread your legs for lots of guys you aren’t a whore – you are just looking for the right guy. Those uneducated blue collar girls that fuck lots of guys are whores ! But I have a masters degree and a law degree so just because I have had more men than the urinals at Fenway Park I am not a whore damn it !
- Not ever, ever, ever be worse looking than any of my friends boyfriends cuz if you are I will try to fuck him behind your back and my girlfriends back (that bitch!)
- Not ever, ever, ever, mother fucker be less successful than any of my friends boyfriends. If you are I will try to fuck him behind your back and my girlfriends back (I hate her !)
- Never bore me. Yes, you guessed it, if you do see above, cuz I am getting sick of telling your sorry ass how many ways and why I will cheat on you (sigh!)
- Give me the attention I need but not be too clingy. Again, this all depends on my mood of the moment. Good luck figuring that out. Oh and if you aren’t attentive enough or too attentive, see above.
- Have a huge dick. Again, see above, you know by now what will happen if you don't.
- Constantly be amazing in bed and live up to every fantasy I have ever had about a man. If you don't I'll be coming home late from work several times a week.
- Be a Prince or the son of a Prince would be good. I am too stupid to know that the son of a Prince is still a Prince but I know I want to get me one. If not a billionaire, millionaire, singer, actor, athlete, doctor or lawyer (in that order) is acceptable.

Being a psycho or sociopath is OK as long as you meet all the above criteria. I won't let a small thing like that get in the way if you have all these other qualities. Just because it didn't work out for Nicole Simpson or Laci Peterson doesn't mean it won't work for us. And even though Princess Diana was more miserable than George Bush on Jeopardy I am sure I will be quite happy being a Princess. At least until the effect of making my friends really envious and jealous wears off, then I will find something to hate about you and my life !

Also when I do cheat please know that it will NEVER, EVER, EVER be my fault - it will be yours.

Please note this is just a partial listing of things I am looking for in a man. You should know that this list can and will change constantly and if we do get together there will be an ever changing social contract that I will constantly amend without you knowing it and worse never tell you I changed it.

RESPONSES WITHOUT PICS WILL BE IMMEDIATELY DELETED!

I can't wait to hear from you.

--------------------

Men's Posting:

Let's fuck!!

New Year, New Rant

2006-01-05T13:02:00.000-08:00

Ok, since Vicki is always ranting about apostrophes, here's something that irks me to no end.

lose - the opposite of win, to misplace something, ONE FUCKING O
loose - the opposite of tight, your mother/wife/sister, TWO FUCKING O's
how can so many people get these two confused? IDIOTS

your - a possessive, similar to mine, his, her as in "your loose slut of a sister loses her mind every time she gets railroaded by your whole inbred, shitbag excuse of a family", NO FUCKING APOSTROPHE
you're - a contraction of "you are", as in "you're a dipshit", A FUCKING APOSTROPHE

its - another possessive, similar to your, NO FUCKING APOSTROPHE
it's - a contraction of "it is", as in 'it's fucking simple', A FUCKING APOSTROPHE

Need a trick? Fine - when using it's or you're, expand the contraction. If "you're head is full of shit" becomes "you are head is full of shit" and doesn't make any sense (maybe it will to you because you're a fucking idiot), then you are using the wrong word.

to - a preposition, as in "turn to the right" or "it's time to go back to school", ONE FUCKING O
too - an adverb (know what that is?), synonymous with "also", "as well" as in "Really? I went to college too. I actually read a FUCKING BOOK." It can also be used to mean "to a regrettable degree" as in "It's too late for you, moron", TWO FUCKING O's
two - a number, it comes after one

there - an adverb, similar to here as in "your tiny bus is over there"
their - yet another possessive, similar to your as in "it's not their fault that you're a fucking retard. It's YOUR fault."
they're - a contraction of "they are" as in "they're not responsible for your complete ignorance of YOUR OWN FUCKING LANGUAGE. READ A BOOK!!"

IT'S NOT FUCKING HARD.

By the way, grammar is spelled with TWO FUCKING A's. So next time you want to flame someone for bad "grammer," at least spell it right.

Happy New Year everyone!!

Happy Holidays!!

2005-12-23T10:10:00.000-08:00

Dear Honda Owners,

2005-12-20T12:32:00.000-08:00

I don't want to race you.

That's right, I'm the exact opposite of interested in trying to challenge you and your faux supercar in a drag race between stoplights downtown. I don't know why you all feel the need to glare at me while the light is red. You don't have to change your grip on the steering wheel like its a pair of motorcycle handlebars, either. You especially don't need to rev your four-cylinder with its loud exhaust system because you might tempt me to want to race you.

I don't.

What really gets me, though, is with the abundance of similarly craptastic Hondas out there, why do you want to race me? The way I figure it, you want to race everything in sight. My Suburban has less than 250 horsepower and the aerodynamics of a barn. However, I suppose the near-verticle air dam which is my windshield isn't neccesarily discouraging to someone who puts a fucking wing on the back of a front wheel drive car. More downforce for the rear wheels then, eh? That way you can accelerate faster, right? Great work, dipshit.

But seriously. I don't get it. I don't ask you to go drive trails with me. I don't wave and say 'lets go haul ass through a mud pit'. Sure, I spend about as much time off pavement as you do on the track, but at least I can tell the difference between a race car and a 4x4. Does my Suburban look like a challenge or something? Do you and your Honda friends get together and say 'Dood! I just beat that Suburban with the 20's, DVD player/TV and low gears! I'm so fast!' And after said conversation, do you all perform a circle-jerk? Are you the pivot man? Or are you just in charge of clean up?

The way I figure it, your car sucks so much, you can't beat any of the other Hondas, and sure as hell don't want to admit defeat. Instead of buying a genuinely fast car, you choose to get your rocks off racing easy vehicles in your piece of shit. Way to go, badass! I'm proud of you! Why don't we get together and beat up some kids later. I'll let you sucker punch a baby. It will be hardcore.

Seriously, though. Please, please, the next time you see me, or any other non-challenging vehicle at a light, don't antagonize them and encourage them to 'race.' Instead, pull your head our of your ass, and realize that your hatchback is probably faster than a minivan, delivery truck, recreational vehicle, bicycle, u-haul, and other similar underpowered non/aerodynamic vehicles. Oh, and don't forget, you're probably faster than me, too. But I wouldn't count on it.

Go play some more Gran Turismo, and quit being a jackass.

Six Easy Steps For An Enjoyable Holiday Office Party

2005-12-15T08:15:00.000-08:00

Yes, the season is upon us, folks. Time for offices everywhere to come together and unite for one single cause - getting absolutely snockered on the company's dime. Yes, some of these parties can be pretentious and boring (like mine promises to be, later today actually). However, if you apply these six things to your party, it will liven things up considerably.

1. Dive right in: Rather than having a glass of wine or a beer, jump riiiight in to the heavy stuff. You should even do it before all the guests get there to ensure that you get maximum exposure to clients and bosses at your absolute drunkest. I choose top-shelf vodka. Bonus: You tell the bartender "not to be shy" as she's pouring it because, after all, this is an open bar.

2. Talk openly about office politics: Tact is cool in the office, but it has no place at the cocktail party. You might want to tell your boss exactly why it is that "everyone hates" her. Bonus: You tell your clients that you're actually writing a book about your company, and that it's going to be the next "The Devil Wears Prada."

3. Talk about sports: For example, when the Vice President of the company that just acquired your office says "I love Steve McNair, he's my favorite QB," You should stand up and say "McNair's a pussy." Don't leave it alone, either, point to people in the bar who you think could kick Steve McNair's ass and mouth the words "pussy" to her for the rest of the evening. Bonus: You form a triangle with your hands and move it towards your crotch as you say "pussy."

4. Be cool: Sure, they hired you to do a job, but goshdarnit you're cool and you should let your coworkers know it. The best thing to do is tell ridiculous stories from your past. Also, you should not censor yourself in any way. If you're telling the story about how you clogged the toilet at a french bistro in Oakland, go ahead and leave no detail unmentioned. By saying things like "my shit was so big, I had to stand up to finish" or "I knew it was going to be a clogger when it broke the water line" you're letting them know that you're cool AND creative. Bonus: as you're making the 'plunging' hand-gestures you knock a glass of wine out of someone's hand.

5. Hit on cocktail waitresses: This is actually a rarely used move, but if you see an attractive waitress HIT ON HER! It's not every day that some guy as charming and hammered as you makes nice with a suggestively dressed waitress, so go ahead and give her your business card! Write something quirky and original on the back, like "Nice skirt, wanna fuck?" before you slip it to her, also. Everyone you work with will be impressed with how suave you are. Bonus: You never bother to get her name, but instead refer to her by the appetizer on her tray. "Hey tuna-tartar my name's JP," or "Chickenballs, you're really cute."

6. Stay late and then call people who have left: Just because the party's over, it doesn't mean it's time to go to bed! Go drink some more and call your colleagues to remind them how funny you are! "Remember when I told everyone that my favorite movie was Humplestiltskin?" And if they've turned off their phones (f'n ass monkeys) don't be afraid to leave mean messages letting them know "how weak it was that you bailed so early" and so forth. Bonus: when the open bar turns to a cash bar you loudly yell "BOOOO!" and ask your boss to "spot you a $20."

Following these six easy tips will ensure a pleasant post-party day at the office.

Dear Secretary

2005-12-13T08:25:00.000-08:00

While I do appreciate everything you do around here, really, there are a few things I need to get off my chest. Yes, I realize that you're not my official secretary but please take a memo. Or something.

1. i can't tell you how fucking irritating it is that you always type your emails in lower case. we all learned in first grade that the first letter of a sentence is always capitalized, names are capitalized, and when referring to yourself, "i" is capitalized. you're a secretary for christ's sake. nobody, especially you, is that fucking busy to make one extra mother-fucking keystroke to properly punctuate.

2. In the same vein: Please, quit using the asshat Smiley Face, Wink Face, Sad Face, or Crying Face characters in your emails. I am going to walk over to your cubicle and Kick You In The Face if you persist with using those stupid little emoticons or whatever the fuck they're called. The last thing I want to see in your email is some retarded yellow blob, bouncing up and down with its eyes bugging out, and its tongue wagging at me. Knock that shit off. We're grown adults. It's embarrassing. Really.

3. I don't care, and really don't want to hear, about your personal health issues. I understand you are getting a little long in the tooth these days, and have scheduled more doctor appointments than that fucking boy in the bubble. Honestly, I don't really care. What bothers me is that you felt compelled to explain how the gynecologist kept you in stirrups for "hours" with your clothes off. I really did not need to visualize your saggy, white cottage cheese-ass and varicose-veined legs pinned up, spread eagle into the air. That was so very, very wrong of you to burn such a vile image into the deep recesses of my ganglia. Shame on you.

4. You are *right outside* my office door. You have a cubicle, which is generally not conducive to keeping conversations private. When you're on the phone, making personal calls, guess what? I can hear you. Again, I'm not a hard ass, and I could give a shit if you make personal calls. But if you're going to talk TO YOUR DAUGHTER about how badly you need "dick" (and I'm not talking about Richard, either) - please do it somewhere else. Although I understand that women over 55 need sex too, the thought of you getting "dick" in any shape or form, honestly, makes me want to become celibate. For all that is good and sacred, please stop.

5. I don't do the hiring or the firing here, and I don't have anything to do with how much money you make. So don't complain to me. I realize you have a car payment and rent. Guess what? So does almost everyone else, sweets. Make it work. Maybe instead of buying out Nordstrom's make-up department and using every known cosmetic cover-up known to mankind, perhaps you could use some of that money for your bills? Hmmmm. Just a thought.

6. You're a short, pudgy woman. God cursed you and holy shit do you hold a grudge. But you don't have to make it up for it by playing Hitler around here to the rest of the staff. In particular, there is the hot little number they just hired in office services, and already, she's complained about the way you've been treating her. God help you if she quits because of you. I have never been happier coming to work these last few weeks, lusting after this particular hottie like a sex-starved teenager. Don't screw it up or I'll take away your computer and force you to use carbon paper and that old manual typewriter in the storage room. Good luck surfing the 'net on that.

7. Last, but certainly not least, BRUSH YOUR TEETH. Oh. My. God. What in the holy fuck do you eat in the morning? Onion and garlic sandwiches with a side of shit? Within 30 seconds of you arriving here each morning, those horrific, hell-sent mutant molecules from your disgusting piehole find their way into my office, mounting a full-on assault. I brace myself, because I know within moments you will step foot into my office, spouting your fog of pure evil into my face, forcing me to internally chant "smells like roses ... smells like roses ... smells like roses" to keep you from wearing my marionberry muffin all over the front of your blouse. All this could be prevented with a $3 Oral B and some fucking Colgate. Please. I beg you. Brush those things.

Okay, that should do it. Thanks.

Men's Room Etiquette - For The Last Time

2005-12-08T11:07:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know my problems with public restrooms have been well-documented on this site, but after having no choice but to use the toilet here at work this morning along with the idiotic fucktards that occupy this floor, I just can't stand it any more. I promise, this will be my last rant on this subject. Well, until something else happens.

I’m a reasonable guy. However, I am repeatedly exposed to some pretty unreasonable things. It’s hard enough to wake up each morning and drag my ass to work, the last thing I need is to deal with a bunch of fucking weirdos that don’t know how to co-exist in a communal restroom.

If I had it my way, there would be a series of private, single-occupancy restrooms instead of the shit corral we are forced to deal with, but that point is moot. I understand the concept of efficiency in a building designed to house many people and that having a shared bathroom is a necessity. Personally, if I wanted to use a trough, I’d be a pig. But hey, we all have our crosses to bear.

So in the meantime, let me help a few of you disgusting guys out with a few rules that you should follow.

#1. Maximize distance - If you are the only one at a line of urinals or stalls, select one at either end, NOT the fucking middle. Choosing the middle forces other men to stand as near to you as possible and pull their dicks out and pee. For Christ’s sake they are peeing right next to you, PEEING!

Even more importantly is the stall selection. Always chose a stall that is as far from another occupied stall as possible. If I’m taking a shit, do NOT come into the stall next to me. Thanks so much you fucking fecalpheliac, now there is half a foot separating me from another man who is taking a shit, one inch of which is some metal. I don’t want to hear you and I don’t want to smell you. I just want to finish up and get back to my job and continue to pretend I don’t hate the lady in the office next to mine.

In addition, please use the sink farthest from the urinals as well to wash your hands. In fact, do me the favor of slightly turning your back to me while I piss.

#2. Get in, Get out - Don’t dawdle in the men’s room. Get in there, do your thing, WASH YOUR FUCKING HANDS and go. Who the hell are these guys that seem to be meandering around the restroom. Don’t talk to me, don’t talk to other people, get off your cell phone, don’t have a meeting in there. In fact, don’t have a little chat right outside the restroom door. Not only will you have to hear men inside evacuating their bowels, but the person you stopped to talk to in order bring up that one thing from that meeting yesterday that you just wanted to clarify a few things about, has probably got to piss pretty bad and you are such a self-centered piece of shit that you don’t even realize that the guy in front of you crossing his legs, grabbing his crotch and sweating isn’t even listening to you anymore because his bladder is about to rupture into his body cavity.

Oh hey, Mr. Oral Hygiene. It’s great that you take good care of your teeth, but perhaps after lunchtime, when the men’s room is at maximum occupancy, brushing and flossing for 15 minutes isn’t the best thing. Doesn’t it bother you that people are shitting a few feet from you as you slide your waxed cinnamon floss over your pearly whites? No, I forgot, one of you actually sits on the shitter while brushing. Fucking sick, man. Just gross.

#3 Privacy - While this isn’t the easiest thing to maintain in a room full of people crapping and pissing, there are a few things you can do to at least make the pretense that you are minding your own business.

Close the god damned door! Sometimes I use the stall to pee. It’s more private and I’m good enough to put the seat up, and so should you. However, am I the only guy in the world considerate enough to close the door behind me? I think I’ve crippled a few guys because I walk into the stall with the open door and smash the door into the spine of some moron who decided for some unknown reason that they didn’t need to close the door behind them. Way to go there guy, I hope that leaves a permanent scar to remind you to not do that again.

Eyes forward you fucking pervert. Don’t look over at me. Am I looking at you? No I’m not. I’m minding my own business. I don’t care how big your dick is and you shouldn’t care about mine. Don’t fucking talk to me while I’m peeing. What the fuck? Who would ever even think this is an ok thing to do? It’s one thing if I’m out drinking with my friends and I run into a pal in the john and we comment on how the waitress with the huge tits needs to get the taste fucked out of her mouth, but we aren’t doing that are we? No, we are at work. I don’t even want to talk to you in the lunchroom; the bathroom is out of the question. Go away, drop dead, stop talking to me or I’m going to go Columbine on this whole place I swear.

Look, I’m a nice guy. I just want a quiet, private place to do my business and go. That’s not so much to ask is it?

Office Speak That Needs To Go

2005-12-06T11:30:00.000-08:00

Ok, I’ve worked in enough different offices to where I am qualified to talk about this. In a regular office environment you hear the same stupid-ass phrases over and over again and it just makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs and kill that person.

Here’s JP’s list of Office Phrases That Need To Go:

1)“Clusterfuck” - Why is everything that has the slightest error or problem referred to as a clusterfuck? Can someone tell me? Every time someone fucks up you will hear “oh shit man, Penny got wasted at the client meeting and began calling the CEOs assholes and then took a shit on the conference room table, it was a real clusterfuck.” Yes, Penny is now fired, but I wouldn’t call that a clusterfuck. I’d call that natural selection.

2)“Thrown under the bus” – Apparently, when you get fucked over by your co-workers you get “thrown under the bus,” like the people who got hit by busses are real glad they are associated with these office shitheads. “You hear about John? He fucked his secretary on the break room floor, then she told his wife who quickly took half his shit and left him for dead. She really threw him under the bus!” (Both the secretary and wife could be the ones who threw him under the bus in this example).

3)“Touch base”- This is not baseball, people. There is no need to refer to baseball in the office. “I’ll call you back and we’ll touch bases next week.” Oh yeah? How about I grab a bat, smack you in the solar plexis with it and then we’ll talk?

4)“Shoot me an email”- How about I just shoot you in the face instead?

5)“I’ll see what I can do on my end” – No you won’t. You will wait till that fucker calls you back and bends to your will. You might make a concession or two, but you really want the other asshole to get off his ass and do what he needs to do in order to make your job easier. We don’t need this bullshit phrase to act like we are really doing anything extra after we hang up the phone, because in reality we’re not.

6)“Seeing a lot of potential” – This might just be me, but I hear this phrase all the fucking time. We see a lot of potential for growth, we see a lot of potential for revenue, we see a lot of potential to settle this case,” etc. We see a lot of potential for me to crush your larynx. This is the shit you say to your sister about her retarded kid who finger-paints well, “I see a lot of potential in Billy. If it weren’t for that lazy eye and dent in his forehead, he would be a great artist.”

7)“Come in to work on time.” – Who the fuck are you, my mother? I’ll come into work when I damn well please, bitch. So what if I’m 47 minutes late? At least I came in. I’m hungover as hell and I am not going to do shit but surf the internet and stare at my office wall, but at least I made it in. Shit, I get no appreciation these days.

8)“Stop fucking my wife sir” – Ok, I admit I haven’t heard this but I would give my third testicle to. It would make a great office party story.

9)“With this economy we really have to decrease our profit margins and…..” – Just kill that motherfucker before he finishes. He is bullshitting you to no end. Kill him and take a dump on his chest. He deserves no mercy.

10) “Screw the Pooch” – Bestiality, people, it’s illegal (in most states, anyhow). It is no more appropriate to say “Boy that Dan sure screwed the underage children when he forgot he forgot his brief for the meeting.” We should lock people who use that phrase this like the sick bastards they are (Uncle Eddie, I forgive you) with the real child molesters – that’ll teach ‘em a thing or two.

11)”Brown-noser/Suck-up” – I know some of you will be pissed at me for adding this, but it has to go. This is getting old and we must find something else. Because everyone that gets a raise, does more work, has the slightest authority over you, or just has a hotter wife, is a brown-noser or suck-up. We can do better. How about “Fucktard,” “Shit-Eater,” or “Management-Whorebag?”

12)”The phone is ringing off the hook” – Impossible. Even if you have multiple lines and the phone is “ringing off the hook,” here’s a suggestion: don’t pick it up. Unless you are curing cancer (which many business people like to think they are doing) you do not have to answer the god damn phone every time it rings. If it is an important call, they will leave a message and you can call them back, after you take a shit, nap and have a cup of coffee, of course. So, turn off your ringer and stop using this phrase and telling me “how busy and important you are” or I will rip that phone out of your hand and smash your nuts with it.

13)”Remove from list” – This is more of an email thing, but equally annoying and infuriating. This is especially common occurrence with the office fuckwads who are emailing each other back and forth using the “send to all employees” list and you are forced to read these moronic comebacks and pathetic attempts to be funny to escape there pathetic and shit-filled jobs (unless you’re me because my responses are witty and funny). But even more frustrating is someone, most of the time a manager, will send a simple “remove from list” to be funny and quaint, in a passive-aggressive shit-eating grin way. You know what I like to do after that? I sign them up for every Viagra, Teen/Amateur Sex, Penis enlargement, Tit-enhancement, High-school diploma, Free Sample, G.E.D., Bestiality, and gay spam that I can possibly find (most are already in my mailbox). So for the next few months they are forced to write “Remove from list” over and over again till their fingers bleed.

14) “You’re getting a raise!” – Sorry, never heard it.

15)”Someone has the cases of the Moondays” – Don’t get me wrong, I love Office Space. It is one of the funniest movies ever. But I never heard this phrase until I heard it from that movie, and now every Monday rolls around you can’t walk ten feet with out some assclown saying it. You know what? Every day is the same to me, I’m always hungover and tired in the morning. I do not work at the fireworks, naked women and beer factory so I do not have a “super” time at work everyday. Next time I’ll tell them, “you know what? I’m taking next Monday off so I can go fuck your sister.” I guarantee that will be the last time you hear shit from that person.

16) “These receipts don’t match your expense report” – ‘You know why? Because I was off getting shitfaced at a strip club and buying hookers on the company’s dime.’ Damn I would love to say that to the penny-pinching cunt who works payroll. Does every bitch in the world have to work at this position in every company in the world? I mean seriously, is it a prerequisite? Do you have to be the spawn of everything that is unholy to work in accounting? They all think they are the god of gods too. Next time that power-hungry bitch says this to me, I am going to buy a case of douche rags and put them on her desk anonymously. Then when the month rolls around I will put them on my expense report labeled “Office Supplies” and turn it in to her.

17) “On the fence” – Another phrase common in the business world. “Karl doesn’t know which temp to fuck. He could fuck Jessie, because she has a nice ass, or he could fuck Erica with the huge tits. He is really on the fence with this decision.” It is called hesitation people, people do it when they are thinking or stalling (most of the time stalling). I think you need to “push them over the fence”. “Frank, you need to push these clients over the fence and convince them that our anal lube is the best. The best god dammit!” I would like to push you over the fence sir, and I hope on the other side of that fence is a large, steep and rocky cliff.

18)”Can you get me a cup of coffee?” – Fuck you! Get your own coffee prick! Does it say “office bitch” on my shirt? Oh right it does, sorry sir, I will get your coffee right away…(unzipping fly).

19) “Ramp up”- ‘Ok Jim, we have a lot of child porn to push this quarter, so we have to ramp up at our street flyers for this week.’ Ramp up this, ramp up that, are more fake words for managers to try to sound like they are getting us to do more work. You know what? That isn’t going to happen, I have the same routine everyday no matter what time of the year it is, and 37% effort is as high as I go. When I get told to ramp up for the New Year, I call in sick the next day just to piss the ass monkey off. How about I break your legs and your ugly wife can push your gimp ass up and down the handicap ramps for awhile? Will that, for the love of god, make you not use this phrase again?

20) “Action items” – For people who use this word, everything is a fucking action item to them. What the fuck constitutes an action item? The way this fudge-packer talks at work, my left nut is an action item. The next time this queef tells me to check my action items and have them handled, I’m going to whip out my dick and slap it on his desk and say “I got a new action item for you to handle.” These people should be tied to the back of a bus and dragged for several miles.

21) This is not really a phrase more of a thing you have to do all fucking day long – “Hey/How you doing? /What’s up” or any other form of “hi.” Why must I spend all day saying hello to people I see everyday? “Hey JP, what’s up?”, “Well Jeb, I am actually still drunk from last night and I have no concept of right and wrong anymore. I think I’m going kill a goat then have sex with it. You?” It’s just annoying people. I might be ok with the head nod, but I feel like a goddamn bobble-head doll in work everyday. I saw you in the morning; I do not need to say “hey” at 8:45, 1:17, and 2:55. Does it really do anything? Do people go back to their desk and wonder, “That bitch Janice, didn’t ask me ‘what’s up’ after I got back from lunch. I think the next time I see her I’m going to cut her fingers off.” Let’s just have one “Hi” on Monday and just end it. The only exception is all the hot girls from the office, keeping doing what you’re doing. You know who you are. It’s the only thing I look forward to in the morning. You know it and I know it.

22) “I have a lot on my plate right now”- Bullshit. This is for people who want to sound like they are important and busy and do not have time to do anything else. I will tell you right now, I do not. This is a good phrase to throw to attorneys when they try to give you extra assignments or projects. “Frankly, I have a lot on my plate as it. I can’t handle anything, until I fully clear my plate, run the dishwasher, take a shit, and then take a nap. I’m sorry, your dry cleaning will just have to wait, boss.” I’ll stop using it if you guys stop using it. We can do this together people.

23) “Think outside the box” – This is what insane people do. Don’t you want normal, god-fearing citizens to work for you and not a bunch of crazies? “You know Jim forgot his lunch today, but he ate his own fecal matter to save time and money. I like how he thinks outside the box.” This is just maddening to hear from people who should be thrown in to large cardboard boxes and beaten with golf clubs and thrown into a contaminated river.

24) “Pipeline” – This is often used to give you busy work. “We need to fill the pipeline” or “we have a lot of data in the pipeline” are both common phrases that make you want to beat yourself senseless with a lead pipe in order to escape this office lingo. If it is at all possible I would suggest taking a dump in the person’s desk drawer to silence them.

25) “PO and Invoice”- Why don’t we just use the simple actual words these things refer to? One is a ‘bill’ and the other is a ‘receipt’. There is no reason to make paying a bill anymore complicated than it already is. This is really simple and even Leonard, the slow-witted guy from accounting, with the breath that smells like he ate a shit, garlic and onion sandwich for breakfast, can understand with minimal assistance.

That’s all for now. Feel free to add any you think warrants mentioning as well. I will now go hit myself in the head with a tack hammer.

We All Know You Love The Holidays

2005-12-01T11:35:00.000-08:00

Dear Co-Worker,

You might think that it was when you began decorating your office on the first work day after Thanksgiving. But even then, most of us were thinking "oh...she just wants to brighten up the place" or "early bird gets the worm" or some other stupid-ass cliche.

You might even think that it was when you stepped it up to wearing red and green every day beginning November 28th, or when you sent an email around to get everyone together to pick their "secret santa" that we all of the sudden had a V8 moment and thought "Damn...this woman LOVES THE FUCKING HOLIDAYS!"

But you'd be wrong. And the reason you'd be wrong is this: ALMOST EVERYONE LOVES THE HOLIDAYS. You don't have to prove it to anyone, it's just a fucking fact.

So that's why I personally feel it was unnecessary for you to do the following:

1) Must you play that fucking christmas music all fucking day long? Must it be turned up so loud that you'd be able to hear it over a jet engine. Must I have to knock on your wall when I'm on the phone with a client to get you to turn it down?

2) Is it really necessary to remind me (every single day, no less) how many days are left until Christmas? I do, in fact, own a calendar. And, last time I checked, Christmas was clearly marked as December 25th. Also, I've been a pretty strong "counter" since I was a little boy. Believe me, I can do the math to figure out how many days without your assistance.

3) While I do enjoy chocolates, I don't want to find them on my chair. Especially when the discovery takes place AFTER I SIT DOWN! Do you think Santa will put a new pair of pants under my tree this year? Your ass is mine if people around here take to calling me "skid mark."

All I can think about, though, is your smarmy little worm of a husband and how he must dread this time of year. Seeing that bubbly enthusiasm ripple across your chunky chipmunk-like face must drive that poor man to homicidal ideations. I mean, I only deal with you during the work week and I'm pretty much close to killing you every other Wednesday...but to spend my entire life with you?

Jesus, that poor man.

Maybe Santa will bring him a shotgun.

Ok, I'm Officially Creeped Out

2005-11-29T15:06:00.000-08:00

So, there I was, standing at the sink in the bathroom here at the office after taking a leak. I turned the water on, got it nice and hot (men, seriously, washing your hands in cold water is like washing them with your piss because it doesn't work), and squirted the soap out of the dispenser.

Ok, I have to stop here for a second. The soap in the bathroom here was something I could always count on as being the same. I mean, you go into the bathroom and you never know what you're going to find, especially on this floor. However, the soap was always the one constant. It was pink, thick and smelled very nice. I was really happy with it. In a room of freaks and slobs, it was my one comfort item.

Anyhow, back to the story. So, there I was, hot water running, warming my hands up, ready to put some of that pink velvety soap on my hand, I depress the soap dispenser and out comes (or is it cums)......this white, watery substance that looked like the money shot in a porn movie. I about lost my lunch right there in the sink.

So now, not only do I have this cum-like substance on my hand, but I'm utterly frozen. I don't know what to do. I mean, there's no way in fuck I'm smelling this stuff. I'm afraid to rub my hands together, lest the man goo somehow absorb through my pores. I'm totally terrified to wash it off because I really don't want to watch it stick to the drain as it washes out of the sink. Likewise, I really don't want this spunky substance on my hands anymore. In the end, I ran my hands under the faucet, didn't rub them together (yes, I totally closed my eyes so I didn't see what happened to the baby batter), grabbed a paper towel to open all doors between the bathroom and kitchen, walked inside, washed my hands in the kitchen sink here FOUR FUCKING TIMES and called it good.

Can't someone do a memo when they decide to change the soap from something nice, safe and constant to something that resembles what Peter North excreted all over Jenna Jameson's back in the movie I just watched last night? I mean shit, I'm all for a good gooing, but there's a time and place for that. It shouldn't be something that I wash my hands with.

Thanksgiving Changes

2005-11-23T12:01:00.000-08:00

Since things in my life are changing at an alarming rate, why should Thanksgiving be any different? This year I'll have my kids for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, so it'll be the same as always (sans wife), but I'm sure there will come a time when I'll be alone for one or the other.

Rather than eat a turkey sandwich from Boston Market I've decided to re-create a traditional Holiday meal (without me actually cooking. I do plan to have plenty of alcohol, however).

I invite you to audition for one of the following roles that will be vacated when my divorce is final. You can also feel free to create your own and submit.

1. Father- Must be intoxicated well before the meal begins and begin unbuttoning the pants around meal time. You may be de-panted by dessert. Bonus points if you have your hand tucked into the waistband of your BVDs.

2. Mother- Obsessive-compulsives are encouraged to apply. Ability to cry randomly due to such things as the color of the cranberries or your son being a jackass is a plus. Extreme bonus points if you get slobberknockered on egg nog and tell everyone at the table that I'm not good enough for your daughter.

3. Drunk Uncle- Creepy, jobless, and completely fucked up on various hard liquors and other substances. This is a job for someone on the plump side with the uncanny knack for saying the wrong thing to other family members and then falling asleep by the mailbox. Extra credit if you're facedown in your own puke as well.

4. Cousin #1- Completely silent. Has been since 1996. We're not even sure if he can talk.

5. Cousin #2- Attends Ivy League Medical/Law/Business school. Must be clearly embarassed of family and have important people to call on the cell during dinner. Must wear Abercrombie clothes and refer to all women as "Buffy."

6. Cousin #3- Felon. Just got out of the joint for stealing a pig from a farm. I wish I made that up.

7. Cousin #4- On 3rd Marriage with 2 kids and 2 stepkids. Ok, this one isn't that funny....

8. Cousin #4's Wife- Was a trophy wife. After she squirted out her second kid, Cousin #4 started eye fucking every woman in sight, my mother-in-law included. Yeesh.

9. P.I.G.- Person Invited by Guilt. Could be a lonely office rat or the neighbor who stands outside the window staring inside and looking morose. Very helpful if you look like a loner and have no social skills. Laugh loudly at family jokes and dispense advice to children. Come very overdressed and have a bottle of something disgusting. Must cry in the bathroom.

There you go. I'm now taking applications.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!!

Looks White People Cannot Pull Off

2005-11-17T20:00:00.000-08:00

Here's a dude sporting the "I'm Lily White, But I Roll With East-Siiiiide" look. He can't pull it off, no way in hell.

If you're not African-American, dreads are NEVER a good idea.

Unless your name is Snoop, velvet jumpsuits shouldn't be in your closet.

Finger tats - always classy.

Don't. Ever. Nuff said.

The Top 10 Sports Sex Scandals of All Time

2005-11-14T16:03:00.000-08:00

With the Panthers cheerleaders alleged-sex-in-a-bathroom (which they have denied took place, completely ruining my fantasy) scandal coming hot on the heels of the Vikings SexBoat escapade (which is probably the only sex scandal in the history of Minnesota - I mean isn't it fucking cold there?), perhaps it's time to ponder 10 of the (other) biggest sex scandals in sports history:

1. Kobe Bryant: Nobody but Bryant and the young woman who became his accuser know for sure what happened in that hotel room in Eagle, Colo., on the night of July 1, 2003. What is clear is that Bryant's squeaky-clean image was forever tarnished as he transformed overnight from the Next Jordan to a punchline for late-night comics (or wanna be comics like myself). The woman alleged that Bryant raped her while the player claimed that the (extramarital) sex was consensual. The criminal charges were ultimately dropped before trial and the two reached a sealed settlement on a related civil suit. While the cost to Bryant's reputation is incalculable, the cost to his pocketbook included the $4 million he spent on an eight-carat diamond ring for wife Vanessa.

2. Fritz Peterson and Mike Kekich: The Yankees lefthanders shocked their teammates and the rest of America when they showed up at spring training in 1973 and announced that they had swapped wives over the winter. Peterson traded wife, Marilyn, two kids and a poodle to Kekich for Susanne, the two Kekich kids and a Bedlington terrier. Commissioner Bowie Kuhn (who colored himself "appalled") got more angry mail about the wife swap than he did about the introduction of the DH that season. Looking back, Peterson clearly got the better of the deal; he was still with Susanne the last anyone has heard. Kekich, meanwhile, split with Marilyn three months after the couples went public, and was shipped off to the Indians and started only eight more games in the majors.

3. Gold Club trial: It's not exactly shocking to hear that pro athletes frequent strip clubs. It's another matter to have it aired in open court, which was what happened during the 2001 racketeering trial of Gold Club owner Steve Kaplan in Atlanta. Among the athletes who took the stand were Patrick Ewing (who testified that he had been "comped" sexual favors at the club) and Braves center fielder Andruw Jones (who was treated to a threesome at age 19, and actually used the words "hot girl-on-girl action" during his testimony). When one former stripper was asked under oath who was present during one of Ewing's romps, she answered, "The whole fucking NBA." I wonder if the pun was intended or not.

4. Eugene Robinson: The Falcons free safety made headlines for all the wrong reasons when he was arrested for soliciting a prostitute in Miami the night before Atlanta met the Broncos in Super Bowl XXXIII. He had to be bailed out by the Falcons' GM at 11 p.m., just a few days after Robinson had won the Bart Starr Award for "high moral character" (was that "high" as in "baked"?). The team allowed Robinson to play, but he was burned badly on an 80-yard TD pass to Rod Smith that put Denver ahead 17-3 in a 34-19 win. One Broncos fan held up a sign reading: Eugene Robinson For President.

5. Marv Albert: Up until 1997, Albert was known solely as a popular sports broadcaster who liked to say, "Yes!" That summer, though, Albert, who was accused of sexual assault, gained infamy during a trial filled with sordid details. Albert ultimately pleaded guilty to misdemeanor assault and battery for biting a former lover 18 times during a rendezvous-gone-wrong. Albert was fired by NBC and resigned from MSG Network. Rapper Common boasted in a song lyric that he was "freaky like Marv Albert." Albert's professional career and reputation, though, have largely been restored.

6. Wade Boggs: The chicken-loving singles hitter became known as a ladies' man when Margo Adams claimed in 1988 that she had been his mistress on the road for four years. Adams originally filed a $6 million suit for, well, it's hard to say exactly since one wouldn't think that "road mistress" is that well-paying a job, even in a perfect world. The married Boggs didn't exactly curry public sympathy, though, when he blamed his behavior on being a sex addict, a term he confessed that he learned from a Geraldo Rivera show. Adams sold a tell-all story to Penthouse but her legal claims were largely thrown out. Through it all, Boggs kept hitting singles (with the occasional double off the Green Monster) and eating chicken (among other things).

7. Mike DuBose: The former Alabama football coach admitted in August 1999 that he had had an affair with his executive secretary as the school was forced to pay the woman $350,000 to settle a sexual harassment case. Making matters worse, DuBose had denied the affair just three months earlier, both publicly and to his bosses. The Tide essentially took the settlement out of DuBose's contract, and when Alabama lost 29-28 to Southern Miss early in the 1999 season, DuBose seemed all but gone. Yet when the Tide rallied to win a surprise SEC championship and entered the 2000 season ranked No. 3, many Bama backers were ready to forgive DuBose for the adultery. Alas, he then committed the unpardonable sin of going 3-8 and lost his job. There is truth to the rumor that Bear Bryant repeatedly rolled over in his grave.

8. Dennis Eckersley/Rick Manning: 1978 was a tough year for the Eck. He was traded from the Indians to the Red Sox, his wife, Denise, told him she was in love with another man, and that man turned out to be his best friend, Cleveland centerfielder Manning. Those facts are not in dispute, though much else about this unplanned wife swap (Denise and Manning later married) is murky. Cleveland lore has it that the Indians front office traded Eck because it learned of the affair and needed to ship one of them out, and since Manning had a cracked vertebra in his neck he wouldn't have drawn much in return. For his part, Eck insists the executives knew nothing and that he himself learned that his wife and Manning were together only months after the trade. Regardless, Eckersley fondly mentioned both Denise and Manning by name in a gracious induction speech when he joined the Hall of Fame last summer. I am unsure if he was up for a threesome or not.

9. St. John's basketball players: The Red Storm was already limping through a lousy season when they lost 71-51 at Pittsburgh on Feb. 4, 2004, to fall to 5-14. Things got much worse that night. Five players took a 38-year-old woman they had met in a strip club back to their hotel room. The next morning, the woman alleged that the players had raped her. One of the players, though, had recorded some of the proceedings on his digital camera. When police saw footage of the woman threatening to file rape charges unless they paid her for the sex, the charges were dropped and the woman was instead charged with prostitution and other counts. (That might mark the only time a sex tape has ever helped anyone get out of trouble). The players' respite was short-lived, however, as three were kicked off the team for good and two suspended for the rest of the season.

10. Denny Neagle: The then Rockies pitcher was arrested in December 2004 for speeding. When police say they noticed that Neagle had his belt unbuckled, they questioned the female passenger, who told them that she had performed oral sex on Neagle for $40. (Neagle's trial has been postponed until Jan. 30, 2006; the woman pleaded guilty to prostitution in September.) It proved to be a very costly transaction for Neagle as the Rockies quickly moved to void the $19 million left on his contract, though the team and pitcher reached an undisclosed settlement in May. The 37-year-old was waived by the Devil Rays this spring and has not pitched in the majors since.

Terrell Owens - His Options

2005-11-10T08:30:00.000-08:00

I would hope that by now you all know who Terrell Owens is. He has been suspended for the next 4 games by the Philadelphia Eagles (sup, Vic?) and will be placed on the inactive list thereafter. Dude is a malcontented multi-millionaire wide receiver that has imploded both teams he's played for. His talent is undenyiable. His intelligence, however, is a very different story. So, without further adieu, I present Terrell Owens' options.

Poor Terrell Owens...all that talent but his mouth has overrun his brain. His popularity has generated some interest with the FOX network, and according to my sources, these two pilots are being considered.

In LOOTER, T.O. plays "Cooter the Looter" and it chronicles his adventures as he criscrosses the world looking to take advantage of natural disasters, riots, and the such. He'll steal from you, he'll fo'nicate your sister, and he'll call you a punk and even "make yo wallet dis'pear in thin air."

In Salt n Peppa, Terrell teams up with a random white dude. The plot lines are a little disturbing as this is a story of two men, of different color, who share the same crib. T.O. played football and caught passes and random white dude played catcher in baseball, and well, he caught things too. In this comedy/soap opera, the two men struggle with positioning and the acting is quite hilarious and sick at the same time.

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MTV announces that they are considering a "T.O. and Tina Turner Revue," which could easily make it on any cable network. MTV figures that if Terrell would trade punches with a member from his own team then he could easily fill Ike's battering position.

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Court TV has announced that they are in negotiations with Terrell on a "Roaming Apologist" segment which could air by the fall shows. On the other hand, Terrell states, "Fuck man, I got this shit down. I could apologize right to your face while I'm laughing my ass off inside...dig it." Terrell even apologized to Vanessa Bryant for Kobe's indiscretions some time ago. At the time, T.O. didn't have the crying/tears down the cheek part yet, but according to Owens now, "I can weep like Jimmy Swaggert if ya want, man."

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The BET channel is considering using Owens as Sammy Davis Jr. in a remake of some shows that the infamous RAT PACK did decades ago. We all know that T.O. can do his endzone bullshit, but can he sing Mr. BOJANGLES ?

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ESPN has supposedly offered Terrell millions to replace Don King. The Friday Night Fights might be re-invigorated with his brash commentary regarding today's boxers. You never know, he might just get knocked out hisself. Yeah, dig it.

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A new cable network CCC, (Classic Cable Network) has been conducting numerous opinion polls, both telephone and public, regarding the interest in Terrell playing a man/ape, in the classic remake of Planet of the Apes.

CCC states that Charlton Heston obviously isn't coming back, but rumors have surfaced that Keifer Sutherland (reprising his role of Freddie Lee Cobb from "A Time To Kill") might be interested in playing Heston's part. CCC doesn't want to beeeep out offensive language by either one of them and that right there is the problem. Do you want your child to hear, "Back off (you can figure out the proper N word, or maybe be kind and just tell your kid he said, 'Dumbfuck Idiot'."

Should you have any further suggestions, please contact me as I am representing the moron in this new endeavor.

Things I've Learned From Horror Movies

2005-10-31T08:30:00.000-08:00

As we all know, I love horror movies. As a matter of fact I went and saw Saw II Saturday night and let me just say that even though it wasn't as good as the first one, it was still pretty effing twisted.

Having watched just about every horror movie known to man, let me give you a list of things I've learned from them.

If a voice in your house says "Get Out!!" Then get out;
Never talk to clowns in sewers;
If someone is chasing you outside, and you're wearing high heels...take them off;
If someone is chasing after you with a knife, do not run upstairs where you'll be trapped;
If a little blonde girl stares into a snowy tv screen and says "they're here...," they are;
Never have sex with a girl in the woods;
1...2...Freddie's comin' for you
3...4...Better lock your door
5...6...Grab your crucifix
7...8...Better stay up late
9...10...NEVER SLEEP AGAIN!!!;
If you're filming a documentary in the woods and you find an abandoned house...umm..yeah, don't go in;
If you're beautiful, have big boobages, and stand around naked looking at yourself, chances are someone else is watching you too...from the closet;
If a little boys says to you "I see dead people" - chances are - you are dead;
I learned this one this weekend - if the killer leaves you a note telling you not to use a key on a certain lock, take his advice, or at least don't put your eye up to the peephole while turning said key;
If someone says they'll be right back...they won't;
If you're in a dark room and you hear a noise...run away! Do not go in to investigate;
It's not normal to be able to turn your head all the way around;
When driving along a dark, long, dirt road and you pass some guy bleeding to death on the side of the road...it's actually ok to pick him up. BUT...When he says "can we turn around and get my buddy, he was right behind me!?" DON'T!!!; and
Probably the most important one of all - the killer NEVER dies the first time.

Happy Halloween, all!!

Best Laid Plans

2005-10-26T13:52:00.000-07:00

As you undoubtedly know by now, my wife and I are soon to be divorced. Ever since that has been decided, we have made a very conscious effort to make it as easy and pain-free on the boys as possible. In many ways, it's been better for G-Dogg and Mozilla because they're getting more individual attention from each of us.

Last night, with the soon to be ex going out with her friends, I decided to plan a nice, fun evening for the boys. I decided to take them to Papa's Pizza, which is a kid-friendly establishment. They have a huge play area, which is indoors. Mozilla actually had his 5th birthday party there. After Papa's, I figured it would be fun to take them to see Wallace and Gromit.

So, we get to Papa's, order some food (1/2 cheese, 1/2 pepperoni pizza and some mozzerella sticks) and drinks and head off to find a table. I get situated at the table and then tell the boys that they can go play in the play area.

There is a window looking into the play area from our table, so I don't actually have to go into the room with them (parents are told to supervise children at all times), so I just sit at the table watching through the window, making sure the boys are ok.

About five seconds after they get in there, they start running all over the place like madmen. Almost literally bouncing off the walls. Running top speed from one end of the place to the other, knocking each other down, rough housing, etc.

I have to stop here for a second. My boys know how to act in public. They know how to play in public. They do not get away with much when I'm around. When it comes to behavior in public, I'm not a pushover with them. Actually, I'm the exact opposite of a pushover. Acting up in public isn't something I put up with.

So, I stride in there and put a stop to their antics right then and there. They tell me they understand that if they continue to behave the way they are, we're getting our food to go and they will eat dinner and spend the rest of the night in bed, reading.

Dinner arrives, they boys wash up, sit down and eat. Eating was pretty uneventful. Discussing their day at school, etc.

Afterwards, we have about 45 minutes before we have to leave for the movie, so I tell them they can go play. But this time I gave them very specific instructions. (A) No running in the play area; (B) No rough housing with anyone; (C) Keep your hands to yourself. They told me they understood perfectly and off they go.

So, they get in there and the first thing I see is G-Dogg take off on a dead sprint and knock Mozilla down while trying to bat a balloon up in the air. I sat there dumbfounded. I mean, didn't I just say that was not acceptable behavior? WTH? So I go into the area and have ANOTHER talk with the boys about the rules and their behavior. I never raised my voice, I just sternly told them that they had one more chance before they would be severely disappointed with the rest of their night.

I leave and things are going swimmingly for the next 25 minutes when I see the "lady in charge" go over to Mozilla and tell him something. I go into the area to find out what's up and Mo takes off like a shot for the farthest point in the room that is away from me. I know he did something wrong.

I ask him what's up and he told me the lady told him not to go down the steps of the slide, but to use the slide itself. Ok. That's fine, he didn't know the rule. No biggie. I look at the clock and decide it's time to go to the movie.

When we get out toward the car, I was talking to Mo about what the lady said saying "well, since you didn't know the rule, it's no biggie; just remember it next time." This is when he informed me that it was the THIRD time the lady had told him this. She added that if he didn't listen, he'd be asked to leave.

To top it off, at the exact moment that Mo and I were talking while going to the car, G-Dogg decided it would be funny to trip Mo and make him fall on the wet grass.

Needless to say, I had enough at that point. I nixed the movie idea and told them they were going straight home to bed. I don't remember being that disappointed in them before.

Of course they cried, screamed, begged and pleaded with me for forgiveness. God forgives right away, daddy doesn't. Of course I reassured both of them that I still love them, even though I was severely disappointed with their behavior. I also commended Mo on telling me the truth about what happened.

So, the rest of the night was spent listening to whiny, crying children that were blaming everyone but themselves for their fate.

Of course, after they went to bed and fell asleep, I felt like a heel for putting the kabosh on the fun for the evening, but they need to learn boundaries, right?

I told them that best laid plans don't always work out. You just move on and try to do better next time.

Hopefully, they learned something last night. With all that's going on, it's hard for me to stick to my guns, no matter how well I know that it's for the best.

Monday Morning Laugh

2005-10-24T07:58:00.000-07:00

Ok, when I first saw this, I couldn't stop laughing. I hope it does the same for you.

Clicky Clicky

Snowboarding Season Is Upon Us

2005-10-20T08:00:00.000-07:00

Ah, the crisp winter air and the fresh dusting of powder on the slopes! You can certainly understand my excitement, for now is truly a spectacular time to partake in wintery outdoor recreational delights. As such, permit me to dispense these ten tidbits of advice as you head into your personal winter wonderland.

First, you don't have to be a FAG to gain entry to a ski basin. Sure, at first glance, you might beg to differ after observing the throngs of dumbfucks loafing around in coordinated skiwear (s'up Colorado?), but you can enjoy the hill and keep your manhood by wearing appropriate, non-faggotty clothing - LEATHER. Fleece is for baked, hippie ski fags, not you my friend. Frankly, anything that can be purchased at REI screams, "Poser faggot!" Bust THIS bitch out on the slopes.

Some burned-out Rocky Mountain dipshit may tell you that leather gets wet. The appropriate response to such a statement is "Fuck off, fag." Who fucking cares if leather gets wet? You'll look like a fucking ski stud with a huge slab, and that's considerably more important than being a puss for comfort.

Second, while not all skiers are fags, they are all PUSSIES. You can get whatever the fuck you want at whatever ski basin you hit by showing severe sack at all times. Example. Skiers are borderline retarded because of years at high altitude and the corresponding lack of oxygen; thus, they speak slowly. Don't wait for some pussy to finish his "hey bra..." sentence. You don't have all fucking day to get your bomber downhill on. Grab said pussy by his goggles and bellow, "Where's the goddamn lift, you stuttering retard!" The same decisiveness will serve you well at the lodge when dealing with the notoriously idiotic seasonal employees.

Third, YOU do not have to wait in the goddamn lift lines. This dovetails into the skiers are pussies maxim. Walk straight to the front of the line. If some fag skier complains with a "bro?!", grab his poles, break the first one over your knee, break the second one over his head, and toss the remnants off into the snow with a quick and pointed, "Fuck you, DUDE." If said complainant is a snowboarder, grab his IPod, crush it under your boot, and then call for his fucking Mommy, who is guaranteed to be somewhere nearby dressed as a snow princess.

Fourth, don't let anyone into your chair with you unless you plan on fucking them.

Fifth, don't wait for the lift chairs to reach their destination before exiting. It's a bitch move, lacking in testicular fortitude.

Sixth, the best way to slow a rapid and out-of-control descent is by piling headlong into a group of skiers up ahead of you. Once you are certain that you have lost control, pick your party, clench your fists and direct them at the base of their skulls, and slam into them, letting forth a bloodcurdling scream. When the pileup is finished, make certain you are the first up so you can grab everyone else's gear and throw it into the path of any other folks coming down the hill.

Seventh, ski fags have a communal language all their own - it's pretty fucking annoying. Anytime a ski fag drops some mountain vernacular on your ass, blast 'em in the chops. Rest assured that no response other than a "whoa" will be forthcoming as they are pussies. If you don't get a "whoa," blast them again.

Eighth, ski fags wear hats that make them look like imbeciles. Be a good neighbor and point this out. When you see dude with a hat that has a tassel, ball, deely-bopper thing, or looks like a long Dr. Seuss sock, smack it off dude's head with a "you look like a dumb fag, you dumb fag." If you see a chick with such a hat, ask her, "Hey, are you a whore? 'cause that dude over there (indicate nearest dude sporting deely-boppers) said you were his whore." Chick will then remove dude's headgear in appropriate fashion.

Ninth, when your day of bliss on the hill is done, probably after about an hour and a half, retire to the cozy confines of a lodge and its finest bar to get marinated. While doing so, complain bitterly about every goddamn thing in a voice loud enough for every ski fag in the bar to hear. The formula is simple. "This _______ fucking sucks compared to _________ at anyotherskibasin"

Lastly, don't eat the yellow snow, but more importantly, steer clear of the brown and crimson speckled snow as some ski fag has probably just drug a sore or two over it.

If you simply follow these 10 simple rules, the slopes will be yours for the taking.

Gotta Keep My Pimp Hand Strong

2005-10-19T07:45:00.000-07:00

Hey all. Well, all three of you that actually read this site now. Yes, JP has effectively r-u-n-n-o-f-t his whole readership with the shit he’s been posting lately. I don’t blame you, really. It’s been not only few and far between posts, but the crap I’ve put up here doesn’t belong on a 2 year old’s blog, let alone mine.

Let me say that I’m sorry. It’s been a rough summer. The Summer of Discontent we’ll call it. No, not much has gone according to plan. From marriage woes to softball suckiness, it’s been bad all around.

There has been one WONDERFUL thing that has come out of all of this, but I’m not at liberty to divulge what that is at this point. Maybe in the future.

In all honesty, I’m really f’n pissed off at myself for letting this site suffer. When I look back at why I started this site and what I had hoped it to become, I just laugh. It has degenerated from a place where my funny experiences and really abnormal look at life was on display to a place where I cut and paste funny (or not so funny) emails I received because I’m too idiotic to post something original. I mean what the fuck is going on here? I’d stop reading me too.

What I need to do is get back to basics. I need to quit serving up a watered-down version of shit. I need to smack someone in the face (figuratively, not literally). I need to be me again…not whatever I have been the past 6 months or so. I mean, seriously, it’s was July when I posted something original here. How the hell you people didn’t hunt me down and kick me square in the package, I’ll never know. So I’m blaming you. So there.

There will be a new installment tomorrow. Hopefully, it'll capture the spirit of this joint. Hell, it couldn't be any worse than the shit I've been posting lately.

Since I'm 100% Wop

2005-10-14T08:00:00.000-07:00

I saw this and thought it was very appropriate. It's funny how true all of this is too.

40 Things in the Life of an Italian Child

01. You have at least one relative who wore a black dress every day for an entire year after a funeral.
02. You spent your entire childhood thinking what you ate for lunch was pronounced "sangwich."
03. Your family dog understood Italian.
04. Every Sunday afternoon of your childhood was spent visiting your grandparents and extended family.
05. You've experienced the phenomena of 150 people fitting into 50 square feet of yard during a family cookout.
06. You were surprised to discover the FDA recommends you eat three meals a day, not seven.
07. You thought killing the pig each year and having salami, capacollo, pancetta and prosciutto hanging out to dry from your shed ceiling was absolutely normal.
08. You ate pasta for dinner at least three times a week, and every Sunday.
09. You grew up thinking no fruit or vegetable had a fixed price and that the price of everything was negotiable through haggling.
10. You were as tall as your grandmother by the age of seven.
11. You thought everyone's last name ended in a vowel.
12. You thought nylons were supposed to be worn rolled to the ankles.
13. Your mom's main hobby is cleaning.
14. You were surprised to find out that wine was actually sold in stores.
15. You thought that everyone made their own tomato sauce.
16. You never ate meat on Christmas Eve or any Friday for that matter.
17. You ate your salad after the main course.
18. You thought Catholic was the only religion in the world.
19. Your were beaten at least once with a wooden spoon or broom.
20. You thought every meal had to be eaten with a hunk of bread in your left hand.
21. You can understand Italian but you can't speak it.
22. You have at least one relative who came over on the boat.
23. All of your uncles fought in a World War.
24. You have at least six male relatives named Tony, Frank, Joe or Louie.
25. You have relatives who aren't really your relatives.
26. You have relatives you don't speak to.
27. You drank wine before you were a teenager.
28. You relate on some level, admit it, to the Godfather and the Sopranos.
29. You grew up in a house with a yard that didn't have one patch of dirt that didn't have a flower or a vegetable growing out of it.
30. Your grandparent's furniture was as comfortable as sitting on plastic. Wait!!!! You were sitting on plastic.
31. You thought that talking loud was normal.
32. You thought sugared almonds and the Tarantella were common at all weddings.
33. You thought everyone got pinched on the cheeks and money stuffed in their pockets by their relatives.
34. Your mother is overly protective of the males in the family no matter what their age.
35. There was a crucifix in every room of the house,
36. You couldn't date a boy without getting approval from your father. (oh, and he has to be Italian)
37. You called pasta "macaroni".
38. You dreaded taking out your lunch at school ????????
39. Going out for a cup of coffee usually meant going out for a cup of coffee over Zia's house.
40 Every condition, ailment, misfortune, memory loss and accident was attributed to the fact that you didn't eat something.