Why does "bad news have to come in threes"? What's up with that. Why can't one bad thing happen and then it be done with. Isn't it pretty bleak to consider that once a single bad event has occured, you're still in for 2 more unfortunate things coming to you?
Why is there an "easter bunny" and not an "easter gazzelle", "easter ocelot", or "easter meerkat"? Why does it have to be a rabbit? After all, I've recently in the news about how a deer got into somebody's house and eventually knocked out a pit bull. More recently, a mountain lion was discovered in some guy's house. Perhaps these people were a little quick to judge. These animals were probably trying to deliver a little candy and/or treats to children while being discovered in their magical acts. After that, they had to defend themselves. I bet the Easter Deer kicked the shit out that pit bull. Could you imagine how the Easter Bunny would have faired?
How come everytime you end up on the phone with some business or corporation, their "menu has changed"? When the fuck was the original menu up... because every time I have ever called one, it has apparantly deviated from the last menu in some way. Is this some type of corporate decision? I can just see a CEO pacing in front of some huge table with other executives sitting around saying, "... oh, and by the way... Could somebody please get that damned menu changed?! We've had the same one for at least 2 weeks now!"
Also, I'd like to know when this change occured. Why can't you tell me that? Why can't you tell me that the "menu has not changed in the last 8 months" so I can have a point of reference. When should I start paying attention to the new menu? Will the menu be changing in the future? If so, when will it be changing? I need to mark my calendar.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Thursday, August 3, 2006
The Stinger
Here's something I wrote in Spring 2001:
I wish I had a stinger. Bees have them. Wasps have them. Ants kind of have them. Why can't I? If I had one, then I'd sting people and then run away. Wouldn't that be hilarious? Not a really powerful one, but a kind of powerful one. One that would hurt, but not kill. Just maim...injure, etc..
Right at this instant, I'm sitting on a bench at LSU. There's some people sitting on this other bench next to mine. See, if I had a stinger I would run over there, sting them, and then run away screaming like a little girl. Of course, I would keep turning around to see their reactions. They'd be writhing around on the ground in pain. Then I would run around a tree and hide, just waiting for my next victim.
Hmmm... where would my stinger be located? I guess I would like it mounted on my head like a unicorn. It would spring out whenever I got mad, and I would run up to someone and head butt hem on the arm, then run away. Perfect. Kick ASS. I'd probably need some kind of uniform as well. I could be a super villian. Not a really evil one, because I wouldn't rob banks or anything. Just an annoying one. Superman would certainly have his hands full with me. He'd always get calls and be like, "Stinger Man? What...again?! Dammit. I don't have time to deal with this shit. Just put some meat tenderizer and some aloe on it, and you'll be fine."
Ah yes...a stinger. Then the world would be mine. It would be so great. Say there's two chicks just standing there... chatting it up. You know. Typical chick chatter. "So, are you going to the mall today, cuz if you are, I wanna go. Tabitha bought the cutest little shirt at like, Lerner the other day. It has, like, these little black stripes on it... and, you know how stripes make you look slimmer, and...(STING!) FUCK! OH FUCK! My fucking arm. It hurts! Shit. Something just stung the piss out of me. Hey! It was that guy... running away. That one over there, screaming and, like, flailing his arms around..."
Awwww yeah. Stinger man strikes again.
I wish I had a stinger. Bees have them. Wasps have them. Ants kind of have them. Why can't I? If I had one, then I'd sting people and then run away. Wouldn't that be hilarious? Not a really powerful one, but a kind of powerful one. One that would hurt, but not kill. Just maim...injure, etc..
Right at this instant, I'm sitting on a bench at LSU. There's some people sitting on this other bench next to mine. See, if I had a stinger I would run over there, sting them, and then run away screaming like a little girl. Of course, I would keep turning around to see their reactions. They'd be writhing around on the ground in pain. Then I would run around a tree and hide, just waiting for my next victim.
Hmmm... where would my stinger be located? I guess I would like it mounted on my head like a unicorn. It would spring out whenever I got mad, and I would run up to someone and head butt hem on the arm, then run away. Perfect. Kick ASS. I'd probably need some kind of uniform as well. I could be a super villian. Not a really evil one, because I wouldn't rob banks or anything. Just an annoying one. Superman would certainly have his hands full with me. He'd always get calls and be like, "Stinger Man? What...again?! Dammit. I don't have time to deal with this shit. Just put some meat tenderizer and some aloe on it, and you'll be fine."
Ah yes...a stinger. Then the world would be mine. It would be so great. Say there's two chicks just standing there... chatting it up. You know. Typical chick chatter. "So, are you going to the mall today, cuz if you are, I wanna go. Tabitha bought the cutest little shirt at like, Lerner the other day. It has, like, these little black stripes on it... and, you know how stripes make you look slimmer, and...(STING!) FUCK! OH FUCK! My fucking arm. It hurts! Shit. Something just stung the piss out of me. Hey! It was that guy... running away. That one over there, screaming and, like, flailing his arms around..."
Awwww yeah. Stinger man strikes again.
Friday, July 21, 2006
More Various Thoughts!
1. Don't you hate it when you're speeding on the interstate, and you spot a police car ahead of you or behind you. You slam on the brakes hoping this policeman didn't totally just see you breaking all kinds of laws. You think you're in the clear until you finally come into view with the driver and notice it's an old fucking man in a white Ford Crown Vic. What the hell are you in that kind of car for? You should be in a maroon caddy or like a gray Buick. But no, you wanted to get the vehicle that looks exactly like a police cruiser. Every city, every parish, every STATE uses the crown victoria or the Chevy Caprice. We need to start a movement to get old folks out of these cars before they give me a heart attack. Seriously.
2. I went to Subway today. There making my sandwich was a so called "sandwich artist". I guess she was just a bad artist. Who could possibly want THAT MUCH lettuce? When I say I want pickles, how about 2 or 3. I don't need 44 pickles on a 6 inch sandwich. They consistantly put a ridiculous amount of the additions you'd like to see made to your food. You say you want some tomatoes. They put 400 tomatoes on there. You want "lite mayonaise"? How about 1/3 of this bottle of mayonaise. Then they wedge it closed with a knife and wrap it up in 6 square feet of paper. Hey, I know everybody! Let's celebrate wastefulness! Then they take the football sized ball of paper they've turned your sandwich into, and put it into another bag. Maybe next you can put it into a box, then into a ball of rubber, and then wrap it in tin foil. Then put into a car and drive it to my house.
3. All over Baton Rouge, they're installing cameras to catch people speeding. Did you know this? On every other traffic signal, there's a little camera on the wire between the traffic lights. Then there's another one like on a lightpole around there to get a snapshot of the other side of your car. They're supposedly going to mail you a ticket everytime you run it by photgraphing your license plate. Enclosed with the ticket will be a picture of you running the light. I was reading on a message board the other day that someone in another state who'd already seen this implemented got themselves a ticket and photo in the mail. He decided to write them a check for the fine, but then take a picture of it and mail them the photo only. The cops must have had a sense of humor, because a few days later he recieved another letter. This time inside was a picture of handcuffs. Ohhhhh burn. That's some kinda funny shit right there.
Peace!
2. I went to Subway today. There making my sandwich was a so called "sandwich artist". I guess she was just a bad artist. Who could possibly want THAT MUCH lettuce? When I say I want pickles, how about 2 or 3. I don't need 44 pickles on a 6 inch sandwich. They consistantly put a ridiculous amount of the additions you'd like to see made to your food. You say you want some tomatoes. They put 400 tomatoes on there. You want "lite mayonaise"? How about 1/3 of this bottle of mayonaise. Then they wedge it closed with a knife and wrap it up in 6 square feet of paper. Hey, I know everybody! Let's celebrate wastefulness! Then they take the football sized ball of paper they've turned your sandwich into, and put it into another bag. Maybe next you can put it into a box, then into a ball of rubber, and then wrap it in tin foil. Then put into a car and drive it to my house.
3. All over Baton Rouge, they're installing cameras to catch people speeding. Did you know this? On every other traffic signal, there's a little camera on the wire between the traffic lights. Then there's another one like on a lightpole around there to get a snapshot of the other side of your car. They're supposedly going to mail you a ticket everytime you run it by photgraphing your license plate. Enclosed with the ticket will be a picture of you running the light. I was reading on a message board the other day that someone in another state who'd already seen this implemented got themselves a ticket and photo in the mail. He decided to write them a check for the fine, but then take a picture of it and mail them the photo only. The cops must have had a sense of humor, because a few days later he recieved another letter. This time inside was a picture of handcuffs. Ohhhhh burn. That's some kinda funny shit right there.
Peace!
Friday, July 14, 2006
Various Thoughts
1. The Pilot Precise V7 Fine Point is the finest pen in the world. I've used a lot of pens, and in all honesty I have NEVER had a problem with the Precise series. I mean that. Pilot should sponsor me.
2. Isn't it great when you're at a family function and the dog has a hard on? I can't think of a funnier way to incite an awkward moment than when a dog walks into a room full of aunts and uncles and has an erection. Maybe if it's humping someone. That makes for an uncomfortable situation and I love it. It's along the lines of going to a zoo on a first date and seeing some sort of primate playing with himself or watching some animal take a shit. Well, isn't that fantastic? People act like they don't see it but believe me - everybody knows what's going on.
3. How come at night, every fast food shake machine on earth breaks? What's up with that? Shakes are the kind of thing you eat at night. Nobody has a large milkshake at lunch. They eat them as late night snacks. But it never fails for me to hear that MOTHERFUCKER on the intercom tell me "Our shake machine is out of order...". I hate that person now. See what you did? You have driven me to hate you. I almost know they're gonna say that every time. Sometimes I don't even want one but I'll order it anyway just for them to tell me I can't have it. I want to say "Can I have 900 large strawberry shakes please" just for them to grasp how terribly bad I want a shake. The shake machine is out of order. Fine. But you wanna know what else is out of order? Your fucking face. Fuck you, you fucking bitch. Fuck! I wanted a shake! I literally have no other recourse. You were my last chance at a shake tonight and you have failed me. I don't have shakes at home. I don't have a shake machine. If I did, it would work. I can't go to a 24 hour Circle K and get a shake. A Frozen Coke is the closest I'll get. But I don't want that. I wanted a shake, you mothefucker you.
4. This morning while taking a shower, i noticed the bar of soap I had left had pretty much neared the end of it's short life. I had a full bar sitting next to it, but I wanted to use all of this soap before I made the switch. I didn't want to be wasteful, so I cleansed myself with a tiny sliver of soap, which is not the easiest thing to do in the world. It's like showering with a marble, or maybe a vitamin. Regardless, when I was done I started to think of what happens to all those little soap shards people throw out. Man, if we could get our hands on all of them, that would be a huge amount of soap. We could make a lot of regular bars out of that.
2. Isn't it great when you're at a family function and the dog has a hard on? I can't think of a funnier way to incite an awkward moment than when a dog walks into a room full of aunts and uncles and has an erection. Maybe if it's humping someone. That makes for an uncomfortable situation and I love it. It's along the lines of going to a zoo on a first date and seeing some sort of primate playing with himself or watching some animal take a shit. Well, isn't that fantastic? People act like they don't see it but believe me - everybody knows what's going on.
3. How come at night, every fast food shake machine on earth breaks? What's up with that? Shakes are the kind of thing you eat at night. Nobody has a large milkshake at lunch. They eat them as late night snacks. But it never fails for me to hear that MOTHERFUCKER on the intercom tell me "Our shake machine is out of order...". I hate that person now. See what you did? You have driven me to hate you. I almost know they're gonna say that every time. Sometimes I don't even want one but I'll order it anyway just for them to tell me I can't have it. I want to say "Can I have 900 large strawberry shakes please" just for them to grasp how terribly bad I want a shake. The shake machine is out of order. Fine. But you wanna know what else is out of order? Your fucking face. Fuck you, you fucking bitch. Fuck! I wanted a shake! I literally have no other recourse. You were my last chance at a shake tonight and you have failed me. I don't have shakes at home. I don't have a shake machine. If I did, it would work. I can't go to a 24 hour Circle K and get a shake. A Frozen Coke is the closest I'll get. But I don't want that. I wanted a shake, you mothefucker you.
4. This morning while taking a shower, i noticed the bar of soap I had left had pretty much neared the end of it's short life. I had a full bar sitting next to it, but I wanted to use all of this soap before I made the switch. I didn't want to be wasteful, so I cleansed myself with a tiny sliver of soap, which is not the easiest thing to do in the world. It's like showering with a marble, or maybe a vitamin. Regardless, when I was done I started to think of what happens to all those little soap shards people throw out. Man, if we could get our hands on all of them, that would be a huge amount of soap. We could make a lot of regular bars out of that.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
A few weeks back, me and Aimee had to go to this thing called Pre-Cana. It's basically a forum provided by the Catholic Church to tell you everything you've done is wrong, that your marriage is probably going to fail, and that the only form of birth control you can practice which will NOT result in you burning in hellfire is Natural Family Planning. NFP is also what you use to accidentally have 15 children that you won't be able to properly provide for. I'm fairly certain that the people on Little House On The Prarie, The Waltons, Eight Is Enough, and Step By Step used it - thus they've properly earned their spot in Haites.
We were yelled at by a Deacon, listened to cute little anecdotes from a recently married couple, and watched a video that more-or-less drove home the point that "85% of couples who live together before marriage end up in divorce". In fact, I believe that was the title of the film. How awesome is that? Just 15% make it out. After it was all over, I think we were convinced to just keep living together instead of get married. I'd think that more than 15% of the hillbillies I see on Fox's COPS TV program are probably "common-law married" (which I believe takes 7 years... quite a commitment our toothless neighbors have made).
So then they get up and start talking about some sort of other business. We'd stopped and bought some little notebooks on our way because they said to bring writing materials. Sometime during somebody's rant, I drew the following:
(NOTE: Copy and Pasted from my Myspace Blog. Remind me when you read this, and I'll take the time to go and find the files and put them up here.)
I think "Mr. Sun" is my favorite. Either way, we broke for lunch and when we got back - all the seats in the back were taken. We had to sit in the front which meant the lector would be able to see me making art. Instead I had to think up little scenes in my head, like what would happen if I started choking or just stood up and fell on the ground convulsing. I'm sure an ambulance would be called. Then I'd stand up and go "Oh man, I was just kidding! Awwww Damn! I SOOOO got you guys... weeee!" I'd probably be cursed for starting a scene in the Catholic Life Center.
I'm gonna just go and crash the next one they have. Who's with me?
We were yelled at by a Deacon, listened to cute little anecdotes from a recently married couple, and watched a video that more-or-less drove home the point that "85% of couples who live together before marriage end up in divorce". In fact, I believe that was the title of the film. How awesome is that? Just 15% make it out. After it was all over, I think we were convinced to just keep living together instead of get married. I'd think that more than 15% of the hillbillies I see on Fox's COPS TV program are probably "common-law married" (which I believe takes 7 years... quite a commitment our toothless neighbors have made).
So then they get up and start talking about some sort of other business. We'd stopped and bought some little notebooks on our way because they said to bring writing materials. Sometime during somebody's rant, I drew the following:
(NOTE: Copy and Pasted from my Myspace Blog. Remind me when you read this, and I'll take the time to go and find the files and put them up here.)
I think "Mr. Sun" is my favorite. Either way, we broke for lunch and when we got back - all the seats in the back were taken. We had to sit in the front which meant the lector would be able to see me making art. Instead I had to think up little scenes in my head, like what would happen if I started choking or just stood up and fell on the ground convulsing. I'm sure an ambulance would be called. Then I'd stand up and go "Oh man, I was just kidding! Awwww Damn! I SOOOO got you guys... weeee!" I'd probably be cursed for starting a scene in the Catholic Life Center.
I'm gonna just go and crash the next one they have. Who's with me?
Monday, June 19, 2006
Tattoos, 10 years, and a cup of cranberry juice.
Just so you know, there's nothing more exhilarating than asking your fiancé where the fingernail polish remover is and then using it to remove permanent marker from your fingernails under her less than excited glare. I also had fun stripping down to get in the shower Sunday morning and seeing all my new faux tattoos drawn on with blue highlighter, especially the "I heart dick" on my arm. This is in addition to the huge ejaculating penis drawn on my inner left thigh, the upside down cross on my right thigh complete with "666" and "SATAN!" next to it, respectively... and several illegible things written throughout my body. Holy shit. Looks like Saturday night was a doozy!!
It all started out at my 10-year high school reunion. You know, there's nothing more polarizing than walking into a packed room with people you haven't seen in a decade. Especially getting there late and everyone already being there. I had a fucking blast though. I'm one of those people who loved high school. I hated middle school and everyone in it, but I loved my senior year and mostly my entire class. If I could go back in time, that's what I'd set my flex capacitor for. Either way, it was so great talking to everyone and just getting generally shitty with old friends. The one question I got tired of hearing was "So how have you been" and I eventually tried to work things in like "Oh man, my life is awful. Ok. Just kidding" and things of that nature.
Regardless, eventually the 4 hour time limit we'd rented Roux House for was up, which means its time for the North Gate Tavern after party. Now here's where things get a wee out of hand. There's nothing worse than a drunk person having control of an entire bar and seeing everyone from his high school ask for liquor. Because that drunk person is going to give everyone he sees as much liquor as he can. And yes, that's what I did. I was running back there and completely invading my bartenders' space, grabbing outrageously expensive bottles of shit and pouring like a 6 year old with a jug of Kool Aid. After my 10th shot (at least it seemed like that), someone should have taken me out with a tranquilizer dart. I'm going to start ordering the doorguys to put me in a sleeper hold once I pass a certain threshold. Do you think you could do that, Danny? Aren't you into wrestling?
Well, then I decided to try and dye my dick red. Yes, really. I asked for a 16oz cup of cranberry juice and submerged my junk in it. Then I just walked all over the place with a cup of red, sticky liquid on my wee-wee. As luck would have it, the bar was closed at this point. While most of us were ordered to get out, I decided to walk around in the back parking lot and assault the other NGT employees off the clock with a plastic cup and a lack of all respect for myself. I'm trying to largely block most of this out, because I'm not the type to engage in exhibitionism. I have heard people drink cran to treat urinary tract infections. Perhaps I got this backwards and tried to go from the outside in. I just remember people recoiling in horror as I was running around.
The next morning as I'm walking to my car, I saw Nicole outside the back door. "You were pretty naked last night. We expect that kind of behavior out of Joe, but we thought you were better than that." I showed her all of my new tats. I asked why nobody drew on my face, and she told me that luckily Joe told everyone not to because I "had stuff to do today". Thanks, Joe. So there is what happens at my 10-year reunion. It's time to bring some humility back to the table though. I've been out of control the last couple of weekends. I think I have some pretty good reason. How fucked up is it to have your little brother's bachelor party, his wedding, and a high school reunion in 3 consecutive weekends? I mean, come on. Thats the kind of stuff you should stretch over years. At least months. I'm dealing with weeks, people. So cut me some slack.
Anyways, now I guess I'll have to top it at my 15-year reunion. And in case you're wondering, cranberry red is only temporary. You'll have to go with something stronger for a longer effect but my guinea pig days are over. Why doesn't somebody else do something stupid soon? It's my turn to make fun of you!
It all started out at my 10-year high school reunion. You know, there's nothing more polarizing than walking into a packed room with people you haven't seen in a decade. Especially getting there late and everyone already being there. I had a fucking blast though. I'm one of those people who loved high school. I hated middle school and everyone in it, but I loved my senior year and mostly my entire class. If I could go back in time, that's what I'd set my flex capacitor for. Either way, it was so great talking to everyone and just getting generally shitty with old friends. The one question I got tired of hearing was "So how have you been" and I eventually tried to work things in like "Oh man, my life is awful. Ok. Just kidding" and things of that nature.
Regardless, eventually the 4 hour time limit we'd rented Roux House for was up, which means its time for the North Gate Tavern after party. Now here's where things get a wee out of hand. There's nothing worse than a drunk person having control of an entire bar and seeing everyone from his high school ask for liquor. Because that drunk person is going to give everyone he sees as much liquor as he can. And yes, that's what I did. I was running back there and completely invading my bartenders' space, grabbing outrageously expensive bottles of shit and pouring like a 6 year old with a jug of Kool Aid. After my 10th shot (at least it seemed like that), someone should have taken me out with a tranquilizer dart. I'm going to start ordering the doorguys to put me in a sleeper hold once I pass a certain threshold. Do you think you could do that, Danny? Aren't you into wrestling?
Well, then I decided to try and dye my dick red. Yes, really. I asked for a 16oz cup of cranberry juice and submerged my junk in it. Then I just walked all over the place with a cup of red, sticky liquid on my wee-wee. As luck would have it, the bar was closed at this point. While most of us were ordered to get out, I decided to walk around in the back parking lot and assault the other NGT employees off the clock with a plastic cup and a lack of all respect for myself. I'm trying to largely block most of this out, because I'm not the type to engage in exhibitionism. I have heard people drink cran to treat urinary tract infections. Perhaps I got this backwards and tried to go from the outside in. I just remember people recoiling in horror as I was running around.
The next morning as I'm walking to my car, I saw Nicole outside the back door. "You were pretty naked last night. We expect that kind of behavior out of Joe, but we thought you were better than that." I showed her all of my new tats. I asked why nobody drew on my face, and she told me that luckily Joe told everyone not to because I "had stuff to do today". Thanks, Joe. So there is what happens at my 10-year reunion. It's time to bring some humility back to the table though. I've been out of control the last couple of weekends. I think I have some pretty good reason. How fucked up is it to have your little brother's bachelor party, his wedding, and a high school reunion in 3 consecutive weekends? I mean, come on. Thats the kind of stuff you should stretch over years. At least months. I'm dealing with weeks, people. So cut me some slack.
Anyways, now I guess I'll have to top it at my 15-year reunion. And in case you're wondering, cranberry red is only temporary. You'll have to go with something stronger for a longer effect but my guinea pig days are over. Why doesn't somebody else do something stupid soon? It's my turn to make fun of you!
Thursday, June 8, 2006
Linens and Things.
The other day Joe called me to find out where my brother is registered at for his wedding. I told him Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I thought that was where it was. I mean.. doesn't that seem right? Apparantly it was not. Here is a transcript of the conversation we had about it:
JoJoD272 [9:34 AM]: How do?
CPT2117 [9:36 AM]: well haloo!
JoJoD272 [9:36 AM]: You lied to me.
JoJoD272 [9:36 AM]: Patrick is not registered at Bed Bath and Beyond...
JoJoD272 [9:37 AM]: LIAR!
CPT2117 [9:37 AM]: i know. i'm sorry. my mother said you called.
JoJoD272 [9:37 AM]: I did...
JoJoD272 [9:37 AM]: I talked dirty to her for a while.
CPT2117 [9:37 AM]: perhaps i meant a little BEYOND Bed, Bath, and Beyond...
JoJoD272 [9:39 AM]: Ahh, it was like a Da Vinci Code riddle that I had to unravel...
JoJoD272 [9:41 AM]: Bed, Bath, and Beyond.... Hmmm... three B's
JoJoD272 [9:41 AM]: Bluebonnet begins with a B'
JoJoD272 [9:41 AM]: But there is no Bed Bath and Beyond on Bluebonnet!
JoJoD272 [9:42 AM]: Bleah...
JoJoD272 [9:43 AM]: Did you know that the "things" in Linens and Things are sex toys and illicit drugs?
JoJoD272 [9:44 AM]: Patrick will be receiving a set of anal beads and 1/8 of an ounce of crystal meth for his wedding.
CPT2117 [10:04 AM]: that is fantastic.
CPT2117 [10:04 AM]: i guess "Linens and Illicit Drugs and Sex Toys" was a little too long of a title.
JoJoD272 [10:05 AM]: exactly...
JoJoD272 [10:05 AM]: My mom used to always call tampons "things"
JoJoD272 [10:05 AM]: What if they only sold linens and tampons?
CPT2117 [10:05 AM]: then they'd be "Linens and Tampons".
CPT2117 [10:06 AM]: I think that would be wildly succesful.
JoJoD272 [10:06 AM]: How about a store called "Used Linens and Tampons"
JoJoD272 [10:07 AM]: How would that one fare?
CPT2117 [10:07 AM]: Hmmm... Maybe "Linens Used For Tampons"
JoJoD272 [10:07 AM]: Or tampons used for linens
CPT2117 [10:08 AM]: That would look good spread out on your bed. Your Used Tampon douvee.
JoJoD272 [10:09 AM]: They would be all the rage in Paris.
CPT2117 [10:10 AM]: For all we know, it already IS all the rage.
CPT2117 [10:10 AM]: What's up with that phrase. "All the rage".
JoJoD272 [10:11 AM]: It sounds like it wouldn't be a very good thing...
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