Playing with myself
My wife is always curious as to what it is I do into the wee hours of the night while she and the child are tucked snug in their beds, sound asleep. Not too much. Drink some beer, play some cards, discover the secrets of cloning! I'll need to continue the process and see if I can't get a third for the Friday night game.
¶ 1:03 AM0 commentslinks to this post
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Things You Can Only Say On Thanksgiving
01. Talk about a huge breast!
02. Tying the legs together keeps the inside moist.
03. It's Cool Whip time!
04. If I don't undo my pants, I'll burst!
05. That's one terrific spread!
06. I'm in the mood for a little dark meat.
07. Are you ready for seconds yet?
08. It's a little dry, do you still want to eat it?
09. Just wait your turn, you'll get some!
10. Don't play with your meat.
11. Just spread the legs open and stuff it in.
12. Do you think you'll be able to handle all these people at once?
13. I didn't expect everyone to come at once!
14. You still have a little bit on your chin.
15. How long will it take after you stick it in?
16. You'll know it's ready when it pops up.
17. Wow, I didn't think I could handle all of that!
preparation for the holidaysIt's a known assumption that alcohol consumption spikes dramatically during the holiday season. Can't really say why....more football games to watch....more stress....more to celebrate....whatever the reason, the bottle gets hit, and gets hit hard.
I know that I will be drinking, but I never plan on the hangover. I don't really know too many people that plan that part of the party. But as a public service, I present to you the 5 levels of hangovers:
One Star Hangover (*)
No pain. No real feeling of illness. You're able to function relatively well. However, you are still parched. You can drink 5 cokes and still feel this way. For some reason, you are craving a steak & fries.
Two Star Hangover (**)
No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay, but you have the mental capacity of a staple gun. The coffee you are chugging is only increasing your rumbling gut, which is still tossing around the fruity pancake from the 3:00 AM Waffle House excursion. There is some definite havoc being wreaked upon your bowels.
Three Star Hangover (***)
Slight headache. Stomach feels crappy. You are definitely not productive. Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume reminds you of the flavored schnapps shots your alcoholic friends dared you to drink. Life would be better right now if you were home in your bed watching Lucy reruns. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 3 iced teas and a diet Coke--yet you haven't peed once.
Four Star Hangover (****)
Life sucks. Your head is throbbing. You can't speak too quickly or else you might puke. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but that can't hide the fact that you only shaved one side of your face. For the ladies, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the bumper cars. Your eyes look like one big red vein, and even your hair hurts. Your ass is in perpetual spasm, and the first of about five shits you take during the day brings water to the eyes of everyone who enters the bathroom.
Five Star Hangover (*****)
You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the employee who sits in the next cube. Vodka vapor is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth in an attempt to get the remnants of the poop fairy out. Your body has lost the ability to generate spit so your tongue is suffocating you. You don't have the foggiest idea who the hell the stranger was passed out in your bed this morning. Any attempt to take a dump results in a fire hose like discharge of alcohol-scented fluid with a rare 'Floater' thrown in. The sole purpose of this 'Floater' seems to be to splash the toilet water all over your ass. Death sounds pretty good about right now...
And to handle that hangover, I present to you the plentiful, if repugnant, hangover cures (as spotted at Dumb Little Man):
* Drink Buttermilk. (ughhh) It will calm you stomach and add badly needed liquid into your system. That is, if you can keep buttermilk down hungover.
* Ginseng tea is given to relieve the effects of alcohol. This may be the practice, but there is no reason to believe ginseng will help.
* Reduce the amount of sugar you consume while drinking. The boosted metabolism of sugar AND alcohol will accelerate the depletion of B vitamins and make your hangover worse.
* Drinking homemade Sauerkraut juice, the solution in which the cabbage was fermented in, in the morning (a staple hangover remedy in Serbia, called rasol)
* Greasy food is a fairly effective remedy, though not as effective as "preemptive strikes" like the aforementioned Ibuprofen at night.
* Going for a swim in cold water feels painful, but often helps to manage the headache.
* “The hair of the dog”. a.k.a. drink more. Well liked and effective, but this is more of a procrastination tactic, as a hangover is basically alcohol withdraw and you’re just prolonging your inebriation.
* Have sex. First of all: easier said than done hungover. Second of all: oh, wait, ’sounds good other than that first thing. This gets your blood pumping and will release endorphins which are natural painkillers and mood-enhancers. See exercise below.
* Drinking Coke or Pepsi. (The “Black Aspirin” or “Red Ambulance”) the caffeine, bubbles and sugar can be easier to hold down than pure water (or buttermilk). Sugar partially compensates the inhibition of the gluconeogenesis.
* Drinking pickle juice, the solution in which cucumbers were pickled, in the morning (a staple hangover remedy in Russia and Poland). It is sometimes suggested to add honey to the solution.
* Eating some Asparagus before bed. Asparagus is a diuretic and these only compound the problem.
* Eating whole jalapeños. This will certainly wake you up.
* Pedialyte. This contains more electrolytes than almost any over-the-counter drug. This will help you re-hydrate your body as quickly as possible.
* Eating mineral-rich foods, like pickles or canned fish.See buttermilk, above. Gross.
What do these lovely creatures do? Well, aside from stocking and cooling up to six cans of beer and two mugs, upon the press of a button, the machine will open up a can, and pour in into the mug with a perfect head every time.
Now without having to get into the robotics and engineering department of MIT, you too can have such a creature. It's called a wife. Just get married, sit back, and wait for her to start pouring beer!
¶ 6:25 PM0 commentslinks to this post
Sunday, November 05, 2006
George Carlin's Views on Aging
Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is when we're kids? If you're less than 10 years old, you're so excited about aging that you think in fractions.
"How old are you?" "I'm four and a half!" You're never thirty-six and a half. You're four and a half, going on five! That's the key.
You get into your teens, now they can't hold you back. You jump to the next number, or even a few ahead.
"How old are you?" "I'm gonna be 16!" You could be 13, but hey, you're gonna be 16! And then the greatest day of your life . . you become 21. Even the words sound! like a ceremony . YOU BECOME 21. YESSSS!!!
But then you turn 30. Oooohh, what happened there? Makes you sound like bad milk! He TURNED; we had to throw him out. There's no fun now, you're Just a sour-dumpling. What's wrong? What's changed?
You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, then you're PUSHING 40. Whoa! Put on the brakes, it's all slipping away. Before you know it, you REACH 50
and your dreams are gone.
But wait!!! You MAKE it to 60. You didn't think you would!
So you BECOME 21, TURN 30, PUSH 40, REACH 50 and MAKE it to 60.
You've built up so much speed that you HIT 70! After that it's a day-by-day thing; you HIT Wednesday!
You get into your 80s and every day is a complete cycle; you HIT lunch; you TURN 4:30 ; you REACH bedtime. And it doesn't end there. Into the 90s, you start going backwards; "I Was JUST 92."
Then a strange thing happens. If you make it over 100, you become a little kid again. "I'm 100 and a half!"
May you all make it to a healthy 100 and a half!!
HOW TO STAY YOUNG
1. Throw out nonessential numbers. This includes age, weight and height. Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay "them "
2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.
3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever. Never let the brain idle. "An idle mind is the devil's workshop." And the devil's name is Alzheimer's.
4. Enjoy the simple things.
5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.
6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person, who is with us our entire life, is ourselves. Be ALIVE while you are alive.
7. Surround yourself with what you love, whether it's family, pets, kee! psakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.
8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.
9 Don't take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county; to a foreign country but NOT to where the guilt is.
10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.
The Nun and the Cabbie
A cabbie picks up a Nun. She gets into the cab, and notices that the VERY handsome cab driver won't stop staring at her.
She asks him why he is staring.
He replies: "I have a question to ask you but I don't want to offend you. "
She answers, " My son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."
"Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me."
She responds,"Well, let's see what we can do about that: #1, you have to be single and #2, you must be Catholic."
The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, I'm single and Catholic!"
"OK" the nun says. "Pull into the next alley."
The nun fulfills his fantasy with a kiss that would make a hooker blush. But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.
"My dear child," said the nun, why are you crying?"
"Forgive me but I've sinned. I lied and I must confess, I'm married and I'm Jewish."
Flaming Pumpkins of Death
As far as decorations go, Halloween is one of my more favorite holidays. I don't really even consider it a holiday so much so as an event. It's great to see the kids dressed up, even better when the adults join in the fun. 2 years ago we had quite an exhibit, with a fog machine, strobe light, misc. decorations, and lets not forget the glow sticks. There was so much fog pouring out of the garage, the neighbors thought the hosue was on fire.
Unfortunately, the fog machine didn't hold up for the following year and we had to think of something else. I started looking for pumpkin carving ideas, templates, that sort of thing. That's when I came across Extreme Pumpkins. And the thing that really caught my eye was the jack-o-lantern with a three foot high flame shooting out the top of it's head.
I stared in awe, wondering how it was possible. No simple candle could produce a flame of such magnitude. Luckily for me, there was a little tutorial that explained how the whole thing was done.
So, ignoring the warnings and disbelief of my wife and my father, I proceeded to soak a roll of toilet paper in kerosene while I started to carve my pumpkin.
Once the pumpkin was ready and it was time for the trick-or-treaters to start coming 'round, I placed the kerosene soaked TP into the empty cavity of my pumpkin and produced a spark, which lit that sucker like you wouldn't believe. It was awesome.
This year, not really being the creative type, I decided we would relive the flaming pumpkin and give the folks in Salisbury something they hadn't seen before.
And my buddy got in on the action as well. Starting off, we had 2 carved pumpkins, 7 rolls of toilet paper, kerosene, and a box of matches.
But by the time we were done, we had gone through a family pack of toilet paper, a roll of paper towels, all of the kerosene, half a container of canola oil, and a can of paint thinner. ( for the record, the canola oil burns really well, but doesn't provide the appropriate height of flame that we were looking for, and the paint thinner was awesome! giving even bigger flammage than the kerosene)
The LARK ProgramA Lady liberal wrote a lot of letters* to the White House complaining about the treatment of a captive insurgent (terrorist) being held in Guantanamo Bay.
She received back the following reply:
The White House 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue Washington, D.C. 20016
Dear Concerned Citizen,
Thank you for your recent letter roundly criticizing our treatment of the Taliban and Al Quada detainees currently being held at Guantanamo Bay,Cuba.
Our administration takes these matters seriously and your opinion was heard loud and clear here in Washington.
You'll be pleased to learn that, thanks to the concerns of citizens like yourself, we are creating a new division of the Terrorist Retraining Program, to be called the "Liberals Accept Responsibility for Killers" program, or LARK for short.
In accordance with the guidelines of this new program, we have decided to place one terrorist under your personal care.
Your personal detainee has been selected and scheduled for transportation under heavily armed guard to your residence next Monday. Ali Mohammed Ahmed bin Mahmud (you can just call him Ahmed) is to be cared for pursuant to the standards you personally demanded in your letter of complaint. It will likely be necessary for you to hire some assistant caretakers.
We will conduct weekly inspections to ensure that your standards of care for Ahmed are commensurate with those you so strongly recommended in your letter.* Although Ahmed is a sociopath and extremely violent, we hope that your sensitivity to what you described as his attitudinal problem" will help him overcome these character flaws.
Perhaps you are correct in describing these problems as mere cultural differences. We understand that you plan to offer counseling and home schooling.
Your adopted terrorist is extremely proficient in hand-to-hand combat and can extinguish human life with such simple items as a pencil or nail clippers. We advise that you do not ask him to demonstrate these skills at your next yoga group. He is also expert at making a wide variety of explosive devices from common household products, so you may wish to keep those items locked up, unless (in your opinion) this might offend him.
Ahmed will not wish to interact with you or your daughters (except sexually), since he views all females as a subhuman form of property. This is a particularly sensitive subject for him and he has been known to show violent tendencies around women who fail to comply with the new dress code that he will recommend as more appropriate attire.
I'm sure you will come to enjoy the anonymity offered by the burka --over time.
Just remember that it is all part of "respecting his culture and his religious beliefs". Wasn't that how you put it?
Thanks again for your letter. We truly appreciate it when folks like you keep us informed of the proper way to do our job. You take good care of Ahmed - and remember, we'll be watching.
An Extension of God
A United States Marine was attending some college courses between assignments. He had completed missions in Iraq and Afghanistan. One of the courses had a professor who was an avowed atheist and a member of the ACLU.
One day the professor shocked the class when he came in. He looked to the ceiling and flatly stated, "God, if you are real, then I want you to knock me off this platform. I'll give you exactly 15 minutes." The lecture room fell silent. You could hear a pin drop. Ten minutes went by and the professor proclaimed, "Here I am God. I'm still waiting." It got down to the last couple of minutes when the Marine got out of his chair, went up to the professor, and cold-cocked him knocking him off the platform. The professor was out cold. The Marine went back to his seat and sat there, silently.
The other students were shocked and stunned and sat there looking on in silence. The professor eventually came to, noticeably shaken, looked at the Marine and asked, "What the hell is the matter with you? Why did you do that?"
The Marine calmly replied, "God was too busy today protecting America's troops who are protecting your right to say stupid crap and act like an jack-ass.............So, He sent me."
¶ 10:25 PM0 commentslinks to this post
The treeman cometh
One of the best parts of not being a homeowner, but rather a rentor, is that fact that home repairs do not come out of your own personal finances. Having moved to NC from GA, we are currently renting a house while we continue to try and sell ours in Atlanta. Since we've moved in, we have had to have the fridge and the toilet replaced.
Normally, as a homeowner, this would involve a trip to Lowe's or Home Depot, or a call to the plumber. Plus, I'd be seeing little dollar bills with wings on them flying out of my wallet. Ok, not really, but it would look that way in my mind.
But considering the fact that I don't own the current home I live in, all it really involves is a call to rental management company and they take care of it. Fridge? New one delivered and old one hauled off. My only responsibility was to be there at the time to open the door for the delivery men. Toilet? New one delivered and installed, old one hauled off. Did I get sprayed with toilet water or show plumber butt? Not at all. I stood outside and smoked a cigarette while the real work was being done by someone else.
Most recently, I had noticed that the power and cable wires (that run from the pole in the street to the house) were tangled up in the big trees in our rented yard. I contacted the rental company and someone came out to take a look. I told the guy that my concern was not losing power or television (although it most definitely WAS a concern) but rather the potential damage that could be done to his investment (the house) if a big storm knocked any of the limbs down, ripping the lines from the house. Needless to say, he agreed with my assessment of the situation and stated that he would have to get his "tree guy" to take a look at it.
He has a "tree guy"?
Anyway, this morning the "tree guy" showed up with the owner of the property to take a look. Next thing I know al I can hear are the sounds of chainsaws and woodchippers.
Another plus is that I didn't have to, as much as I would have loved an excuse to go to Lowe's, do any of the manual labor. Hell, I'd probably cut my leg off with the chainsaw and fall into the wood chipper, and I don't even know if my life insurance policy covers that kind of idiocy.
Bottom line is that the tree limbs no longer pose impending doom for the wires that run to my rented house, and the only finger I had to lift was the one to dial the phone. I was able to keep my check writing hand safely holstered in my pocket.
No more visions of devastating storms ripping the lines (and the siding, shutters, windows, insulation, etc.) from the house. Added bonus: no visions of dollar bills with wings on them flying out of my wallet.
¶ 1:40 PM0 commentslinks to this post
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