2010 Archives
An Open Letter To Tostitos Scoops
Dear Tostitos Scoops,
I apologize for the tardiness of my letter, as I realize you’ve been on the market for the last few years. But as I’m sitting here tonight, enjoying my friend’s homemade salsa, I’m wondering how the hell anyone ever ate salsa (or any dips) before you came along?
I know that flat tortilla chips are still made, but I shudder to think what kind of child-molesting cretin would even bother with those flat bitches? Flatties don’t hold a candle to your voluptuous curves that envelope a dip like an old lover in a tender embrace. You not only hold my salsa with confidence, but you ensure that every last bit of it makes it to my mouth and not my shirt. Your shape reminds me of the cradle used to hold the blessed baby Jesus. And when food resembles a religious figure, you know it’s going to be delicious. God bless the person who created you! There’s a special place in heaven for this tortilla chip saint.
Keep On Scooping,
Brooke Amanda
What’s On Your Mind?
I now present to you, from the depths of my inner soul…”Facebook Status Updates You Will Never See.” Enjoy!
“Thanks to Mark, Brian, Sam & Peter…Best Gang-Bang EVER!”
“I love Satan! If you love Satan, too, please re-post this as your status!”
“Oops… just sharded!”
“Does anyone know the best dandruff shampoo to use? I’d really appreciate some good recommendations.”
“Finally got that whole toe-jam thing licked!”
“Damn, my herpes are flaring up again. I hate Mondays!”
“Thanks to everyone for all the best wishes on my hemorrhoid surgery.”
“I love registered sex offenders. I you have a registered sex offender that you love, please re-post this as your status.”
“I hate black people!”
“Getting the annual birthday BJ from my wife tonight. Can’t wait!”
“Should NOT have let my husband try out that butt-plug on me last night. Butt = Sore.”
“Just woke up in my own vomit. AWESOME weekend!!!”
“That blackhead on my back FINALLY came out!”
“Does anyone know a good laxative to use? I’d really appreciate some recommendations.”
“I heart binging and purging! If you heart binging and purging, too, please re-post this as your status.”
Wouldn’t you just love to see someone write something like this in their update? It would seriously make my day. No more “Tiny Timmy just took a pooh in the toilet for the first time” or “Little Susie finally slept through the night.” Those are freaking boring! Let’s get real, people. Real and hard core! Let it ALL hang out. As for myself, I prefer to be more of a creeper, just hanging out in the background, silently judging and mocking others. It really it the best way to go through life.
Shits McGee
“Man, I’m gonna tear you’re bathroom up when we get back to your place.”
That’s a direct quote from my friend “Shits McGee.” The following is a 100% true story and only the name of my friend has been changed to protect his dignity…or what’s left of it anyway.
Shits and I went out for Mexican food Saturday night. Probably not the best choice for a guy who told me he’d been “gassy all day.” He had some chips and salsa and a chicken taco. Nothing too crazy. As we’re driving home, Shit’s unleashed the above quote on me. My own shit stories are well documented so, thankfully, I’m not squeamish about bodily functions at all.
As soon as we walked in the door, Shits made a beeline for the bathroom. I turned on the TV and waited…and waited…and waited. A good 15 minutes went by and now I’m getting worried. What if he pushed so hard he gave himself an aneurism?! So I do the only logical thing and text him.
Me: “Are you okay in there?”
Shits: “Ooaah.”
Okay, I have no idea what in the living hell this sound/noise is supposed to mean. Shits then emerged, looking extremely spent and asked me where my toilet brush and cleaner are at. You know the toilet must have looked like a damn sewer if Shits is offering to clean it. Since my apartment is tiny, I can smell EVERYTHING as soon as he opened the door.
Me: “The cleaner and brush are under the sink. Did you even turn the fan on or spray the room spray I have sitting on the sink?”
Shits: “Um, no.”
Why don’t men think to do these things? Shits then starts to clean the toilet when all of the sudden I hear him sort of yelp and slam the door shut. Okay, round two here we go! At this point, I’m now laughing so hard, I’m crying at this ridiculous situation. So I text him:
Me: “I’m laughing so hard, I’m crying!”
Shits: “Jesus.”
Shits then decides to call me WHILE ON THE TOLIET to tell me he can’t believe that liquid is coming out of him.
Me: “Is it like you’re peeing out of your butt?”
Shits: “Yes”
Me: “What the hell did you eat today?”
Shits: “Nothing weird…I did eat some lentil soup two days ago. But there’s green stuff coming out and I haven’t eaten anything green lately.”
Me: “I might have some Imodium A-D under the sink.”
Shits: “No, I just have to get this stuff out and then I’ll be fine.”
Okay then. Shits emerged from his bathroom hell once again (thank God he turned the fan on) and I had him light a match. I told Shits that I am totally writing a post about this and gave him the chance to pick out his pseudonym. He then astounds me by eating some of the tacos he had brought home in his doggie bag. I’m really amazed that someone can have diarrhea AND an appetite at the same time. Pretty soon, though, Shits is back on his Porcelain God and the following texts are sent.
Me: “ How the hell do you have anything left to shit out?!”
Shits: “I don’t know but it is starting to go raw and burn.”
Me: “Oh no! That’s the worst!”
Shits: “Yep.”
Me: “You may need some diaper rash creamJ”
Shits (yelling from the bathroom): “DIAPER RASH CREAM?!”
Me (yelling back): “Or I have aloe vera gel in there if you need it.”
Shits (texting a few seconds later): “You’re going to have a funny post on this.”
Yes, Shits, yes I will. I think the collective time he spent in the bathroom was close to an hour and he used AT LEAST one roll of toilet paper. But you know what? If you can’t have explosive diarrhea in a friend’s bathroom, where in the world can you have it? The next time I’m dropping some kids off at the pool, I’ll think of Shits McGee and the fond memories I have of his explosive asshole.
The One Where The Toliet Overflows
Bob The Plumber
Now imagine this fun-filled scenerio happening at work. It’s sheer terror, embarassment, and humiliation times a thousand. I fondly remember the time I had to deal with Niagra Falls happening in my backroom at work while the store was open, and as an added bonus, super busy because it was the week before Christmas.
Even though I did NOT cause the overflow (well, I kind of did in an indirect way), I’m the one who had to deal with it. Actually, myself and another manager had to deal with it. Picture us in our snowboots trying to move boxes of product out of the path of Toliet Water River while simultaneoulsy mopping at the speed of light. We came to find out that all the stores on our side of the mall were experiencing the exact same thing. And do your know what the culprit was? A GINORMOUS wad of tampons that had accumulated and plugged up the pipes. How lovely it was to be told this information by a grizzled 60 year old plumber. His exact words were, “I wouldn’t flush those things down the toliet anymore.” Thanks Bob!
So I guess the moral of this story is 1) ALWAYS have a plunger on hand, 2) Dozens of woman flushing tampons every month WILL cause an epic backup, and 3) Grizzled plumbers named ‘Bob’ are always right.
The Monster Inside Me
The Dreaded Bedbug
Thanks to the TV show “Monster Inside Me” on Animal Planet, I’m now convinced that the grapefruit-sized bug bite on my leg is in fact the Botfly laying eggs and feeding off my flesh. Have you seen this little gem of a show? It’s both disgusting and riveting at the same time. I never in my wildest dreams could have imagined that people living in the United States could have maggots growing in their skull or worms living under the skin. Maybe I could see this happening in a third world country, but in good ol’ germaphobic America? Never!
Well, Animal Planet has proved me wrong. I don’t even know how I stumbled across this mess in the first place, but now I’m totally hooked. What’s truly terrifying is that most of these people become infected in the most mundane way possible. One woman had a cat scratch her and the next thing she knows, a worm is visible moving underneath the skin on her right titty. Yikes! Or even worse, they don’t really know how it came to be that a 12 inch tapeworm was living inside their lower intestine. Yes, one man was having terrible stomach pain for days, then one night he shat out one of dozens of tapeworms that somehow started living inside of him and feeding off of his body. Gives new term to the meaning “Holy Shit!” Let me make this clear…he literally felt this tapeworm dangling and PULLED IT OUT OF HIS BUTTHOLE! WTF?!!! How did he not pass out or vomit?
Whoever writes the titles of the episodes deserves an Emmy for “Best Title That Will Gross Out The Viewer Before They’ve Even Watched A Minute Of The Show.” Some examples are, “ Flesh-Eating Hookworms,” “Scabies, Mice & Parasites,” “Maggots In My Head,” and my personal favorite, ”Bedbugs, Food & Sex.” I’m really glad they found a way to tie all three of those things together and in the process, destroy two of the things I love most in this life. Damn it!
Excuse me while I go dose myself in equal parts rubbing alcohol and bleach, spray my mattress down with Raid and wash all my clothing in boiling hot water. I’ll also be certain to ONLY eat food from now on that’s been heated to at least 500 degrees and drink water that’s been triple filtered and litmus tested for bacteria. Does anybody know where I can buy a good chemistry set?
The Carnies Are Coming! The Carnies Are Coming!
Yes, sadly summer is coming to a close. Every year, it seems to go by faster than the last. And every year, small towns across the country celebrate with carnivals, fairs, and gatherings of all sorts. If you don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb at the next carnival you attend, please follow my advice and you’ll be blending in with the locals in no time flat.
For starters, your clothing should be casual and understated. After all, you can’t converse with the carnies if you’re totally glammed up. The common uniform I saw this summer was very basic. Take a black tank top paired up with some acid washed jeans. Done! The tank top can be solid-colored or it can have one of the following logos on it: Harley-Davidson, your favorite 70’s classic rock band, or your favorite beer/liquor. I understand that accumulating a pair of acid washed jeans may be a bit tricky as I haven’t seen any sold in stores since 1987, but you can always check out your local Goodwill or Salvation Army. I GUAREENTEE you will have no problems finding some there.
Okay, now that we’ve the clothing down, let’s work on the accessories because as everyone knows, it’s the little things that really make the outfit. For women, hairstyles may vary greatly, but one thing is key…you MUST have a scrunchie securely in place. A banana clip can work in a pinch, but a scrunchie really is preferable. Men have at least three hair options. Number one, you can ALWAYS sport a mullet. It really is the hairstyle of the gods. Number two, you can be completely clean shaven a la’ Neo Nazi Skinheads. Number three, you can slap a bandanna on your head and call it a day, preferably one with the American flag design.
Other accessories that are exceptable are tattoos (for both men and women). The more the merrier! The gaudier the better! I think a classy touch is a rose on the breast, just poking out of the aforementioned tank top. Crucifixes are also lovely, along with the skull and crossbones design. And ladies, pay attention to your hands! Talon-like nails painted with a bold design really say “You take one look at my man and I’ll scratch your freakin’ eyes out!” Kittens got claws!
And lastly, you want to make sure you roll into the fair in high style. The ONLY exceptable modes of transportation are a Harley or a suped-up muscle car. Now that the hard part’s over, you can relax and have fun! Take a ride on the scrambler, eat some funnel cake, drink a lemonade shake up and for God’s sake, partake of the beer tent! Who knows, you may even find a little carnie love:)
Dating For Dummies
When diving headfirst into the cesspool that is otherwise known as online dating, one must steady themselves for the barrage of freak shows they are going to encounter. While online dating is not new territory for me, I had taken quite a lengthy break from it and only recently dipped my toe back in again. Guess what? The water is still fucked up.
It never ceases to amaze me that for every decent guy that is online dating, there are LITERALLY twenty complete and utterly useless human beings lurking in cyberspace. Where do all these guys come from?! Are they really that surprised that they’re still single? In order to help these pathetic individuals find true love, I’ve devised a few dating tips to help them be less disgusting.
1. Do not email and write “Text me, sexy. 309-555-5555.” Really stud? You chose THAT to be your first correspondence with me! I don’t even know your real name. What in the hell do you expect me to text you?! Are you actually that illiterate/socially retarded that you couldn’t type me a few words of greeting? Email deleted.
2. Do not write in your profile, “My kids are my entire life. If you can’t except that, then stop reading.” Who the hell is going to CONTINUE reading?! Like any woman is going to read that and think, “This guy sounds AWESOME. I really think he’s found a healthy balance between being a single dad and having a meaningful relationship. I’m sure his kids are not spoiled brats who are used to coming first all the time and would readily except me into their lives.”
3. Do not write in your profile, “ I am sick of games. I am sick of cheaters. If you are into games and cheating, then move on. I am sick of being hurt and am wondering if there are any honest women left out there.” Once again, I don’t think a woman would read this and think, “ Wow! This guys sounds very emotionally stable. It seems like he’s had some bad past relationships, but has really worked through them in a mature and healthy manner. I don’t think he would be insecure or jealous at all.”
4. Here’s a biggie, when and if you do decide to meet up for a date, ALWAYS follow this rule…THE GUY MUST PAY. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it works. If nothing else, AT LEAST offer to pay. It’s the chivalrous thing to do and nothing shuts a woman’s legs tighter than having to shell out for her own date. For reals.
5. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again…you MUST have good teeth…and be clean. You can’t be some fugly SOB who hasn’t showered in a week. Put some effort into your appearance! Don’t pick up whatever clothes have formed a pile on your bedroom floor and throw them on. My God, guys, it’s the little things! It really doesn’t take that much to impress us, just look like your trying! Is good hygiene really that much to ask? I don’t think so.
6. Lastly, have a job, a car, and a place of your own. Again, pretty simple things in life, but it’s SHOCKING how many unemployed men are still out there mooching off of mommy and daddy. No cool. Sooooo not cool.
I think I may have to start a non-profit for degenerate losers looking to turn their dating lives around. I feel that I am just the kind of nurturing soul these douche bags need.
God’s Plague Upon This Earth
Is it just me or are there a million crickets EVERYWHERE this summer? What in holy hell is going on?! Every morning when I come into work it’s like the Bay of Pigs happened overnight in my store. I have to sweep up at least 30 to 40 corpses everyday. Some are clearly dead and others look like they’ve been hovering on the brink of death for the last few hours. I choose to mercifully end their agony with the sole of my shoe because that’s just the kind of good-hearted person I am.
I know that locusts and frogs are mentioned in the Bible as signs of the Rapture, but I’m pretty sure crickets aren’t far behind. And some of those little bastards are quite spry. Just when I think I’ve got one, he jumps under a fixture. There is even a creepy one living in the bathroom that none of us can find, but we sure as hell can hear his haunting chirp. Imagine trying to take your morning pooh, when from under a pile of office supplies you hear the deafening sounds of a distraught cricket. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the little guy was trapped and calling for help.
Hopefully, our Terminex man, Dustin, solved the problem. He came in a couple of days ago, re-sprayed, and set out sticky traps. The traps are already jammed-packed full of dead bodies that remind me vaguely of a scene from “Schindler’s List,” so I’m thinking we’ll need to toss them out soon before the emotional toll of all this killing becomes too unbearable. A person can only take so much carnage in a day’s work before they become completely insane.
R.I.P, The Bookies Book Club, February 2010-August 2010
I’m calling it! Time of death, 6:30p.m., August 2, 2010. Oh, fellow Bookies, what happened?! Three books in and we flatlined…hard. I know most book clubs don’t last for more than a few months. I know this! But, I just thought that this time things would be different. We were going to go the distance!
Sure, there were warning signs along the way. I knew at the first meeting, when only three of us had finished “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo,” that this was not a good sign. But like an addict who denies they have a problem, we trudged on.
Next came Candice’s pick, “Lamb.” It was another good book, but I KNEW we were in trouble when even the person who chose the book had to get the audio version to finish it. Not good.
Then came the book equivalent of the Titanic, “Wicked.” This bitch of a book sunk the whole damn ship. Guess what…it’s NOTHING like the musical it’s based on. What an awful, awful book. It’s so hard to get into, then just when the story picks up, it sucks again. My God, why didn’t we just read “War & Peace!” At least I would have learned a little history in the THREE months it took me to finish this monster.
After the “Wicked” incident, things just never got back on track. Sure, there have been empty promises of the next book selection, but let’s not kid ourselves. I’m ending this charade while we still have our dignity and can hold our heads high. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. Farewell, Bookies! Never stop following that reading rainbow!
It’s Mel’s World and We’re Just Living In It
I know I’m a little late to be jumping on the “Mel Gibson is as crazy as a shit-house rat” train, but I’m coming to this ballgame with a completely different perspective on Mr. Happy. You see, Mel has become my new linguistic idol! How many of you can drop the f-bomb 25 times in a 2 minute tirade? That’s not easy, people! That takes years of pent-up sadistic rage! Mel has given me so many new insulting phrases that I can’t wait for someone to piss me off just so I can try them out.
For example, the next time I’m shopping at the grocery store on Senior Citizen Discount Day and one of those geriatric bastards won’t get out of my way, I’ll just yell, “ Hey, Sugar Tits! Move your f—ing cart!” Then I’ll pant a little and if they give me a dirty look, I’ll just come back with, “Shut-up and blow me, Grandpa!”
The next time the bank teller screws up my change order for work, I’ll scream, “You’re a whore! A f—ing, worthless, ungrateful whore! And your kid is a f—ing pathetic mess, too!” Granted, I won’t know if they actually have a kid or not, but I think it’s worth a shot.
I think it’s easy to see just how much Mr. Gibson has contributed to our society. Instead of berating this master thespian, we should be applauding the gift he has given each and every one of us. Oh yeah, and Mel is right about those crazy Jews…they TOTALLY made up that whole Holocaust thing.
