Archive for the ‘general mayhem from my head’ Category


January 15, 2009

May I be the last to wish you all a Happy New Year and all that good stuff I was supposed to say two weeks ago? May your 2009s be shiny.

I didn’t return with a big entry or anything fun like that but I did bake you a couple of pies. Yes, two! For the price of one! Just to tide you over, you understand.




A Friday Thought

December 12, 2008

What’s so miraculous about Miracle Whip? Because, let’s be honest here, it’s just sort of like mayonnaise with flavor. I could put flavor in mayo in about three seconds and it wouldn’t even be close to a miracle, it would just be a case of grabbing a ketchup bottle or some garlic or the strained juice from Justin Timberlake’s salty jock strap or something.

Miracle Whip needs to be taken down a peg or two if you ask me. Maybe call it “Passable Mayo Substitute Whip”. Sure it’s less catchy but it’s at least true.

In other news, I’m now going by the name the Godlike Guv’ner.


December 3, 2008

It was Britney’s birthday yesterday and the world celebrated that she actually made it to 27 without losing all of her fourteen marbles, although I’d say she’s not totally cured yet because it looks like she forgot to put on a top.

I don’t know about you (ladies) but I wouldn’t be able to have a good time wearing that dress. I’d be spending all night having a panic attack that my jubblies were going to fly loose and conquer the world the second I walked down a step or something. No one needs to see that with their cocktails.


Yes I know, I don’t post for weeks then I come back with this tripe. I do apologize.

In Other News

November 12, 2008

Apparently Lindsay Lohan on “Access Hollywood”, referred to President Obama as the “first colored president”.

She then slaughtered a baby seal and sucked out its guts while commiserating with California’s decision to overturn the rights of gays to marry, by saying “It’s a setback sure, but soon fags everywhere will be able to get married like normal people.”

7 Quirky Things

November 7, 2008

Kelly from Lavender Lattes held me at gunpoint and made me do this meme. Yes, really. Since I’m up exceptionally early I’m going to do it too. You can’t stop me. It’s about 7 weird or quirky things about me, to which I gasped aloud and muttered, “ONLY SEVEN?”

1. List 7 weird or quirky things about myself,
2. Post the 5th photo from my 5th album for the whole dang world to see… (huh?)

7 Weird or Quirky Things about me:

One: Whenever I eat spicy food (and I like spicy food!) my ears tingle. The spicier the food the tinglier they get. It’s how I gauge my eatins! I actually had a sandwich from Subway last night that reached a 7.5 on the ‘OUCHY’ Scale! Those hot peppers, man. They’re weapons of mass tastebud destruction.

Two: When I get an idea I’ll think about it for hours. Days. Millennia! Like when I was thinking about how fun it would be as a project to build an abode from shipping containers a few weeks ago, I totally built the entire home IN MY IMAGINATION, from the welding to the wiring to insulating it… My brain latches on to something and won’t let it go till I’ve mentally covered it. I even pretended in my head like the shipping container thing was a reality show. “This is where I’m going to put the washer/drier and my spiral staircase will go here!” as I waved enormous power tools around and wore goggles and overalls and you all thought, while watching my mental TV, “Wow, that chick is AWESOME!

Three: I hate to lose at games. OK, it’s not so much I hate to lose as I hate that I’m totally incompetent at them. For example, I’ve been playing this Xbox car racing game lately where the aim is to smash into as much traffic as you can at high speeds, which, let me tell you, is very therapeutic indeed, but part of it is racing at the same time and I hate when I’m being incompetent at it and coming in last, which is often. Now in real life, you can cut me off at the lights and I don’t give a shit so long as I don’t smash into your stupid ass, even if I might mutter a bad word under my breath. In a driving GAME however, I will take you down, sucker. I will pound you into the nearest wall and send you over a ravine to your bloody, twisted death. And if you beat me I will sulk and smash MY car into stuff because I am five.

Four: I always hold the phone to my right ear. I can’t do it on the left side. It sounds different and wrong. Plus I need my left hand free to make gestures.

Five: I like National Anthems. Shhhh.

Six: Sort of like the ear thing, I can gauge how drunk I am by how my toes feel. A couple of cocktails they tend to tingle, another one makes them all rubbery. My toes are all knowing.

Seven: I have a third nipple on my butt. OK, it’s not really a third nipple, it’s a little bump that feels like a nipple. I mean I don’t go around feeling up my own butt all day or anything but I know it’s there. It’s always been there. If I was feeling a whole row of butts, I’d know mine instantly due to that little bump. Now there’s an image.

If you read all the way through that, I’m impressed. You must’ve had a lot of coffee.

Star Trek In “The Buttock Shooters”

October 27, 2008

Here’s a heartwarming (Or should that be buttock warming?) little story for you this fine Monday, that came to my attention through FARK. Seems drive-by shootings have progressed to sail-by shootings. My favorite line is the last one: “…he was having further tests done to see what kind of projectile was lodged in his buttocks.” you know, in case that gun was firing skittles or puffer fish.

Here is my suggestion of how it all went down, kindly demonstrated by the cast of Star Trek.

"We're ready for your dastardly sail-by shenanigans, foe!"

“We’re ready for your dastardly sail-by shenanigans, foe.  Bring it!”

"Jim, I've been hit.  Squeeze my breast. No, harder!  Ha ha! I'm kidding. It hit me in the buttocks. What is it, McCoy?"

“AAAH! I’ve been hit.  The logical thing to do would be squeeze my breast. No, harder!  Actually joke’s on you, because I was hit in the tooshie.  It feels like someone fired a Klingon right up my poop chute.  What is in there McCoy?”



"I think I found the real culprit, Spock."

“Is there something you want to tell us?”

I knew I’d eventually work those photos in a post somewhere.  Who knew it would be over an article on buttock shooting.  Bon appetite!

Living La Vida Locomotive

October 21, 2008

When it comes to living conditions I’m a little odd, I’ve decided. It’s taken me a while to come to this conclusion but now that I have, a lot of things make sense.

You see, houses are all very well and good (and practical) but what I’d really like is to live in something a little more unconventional. Like a converted church with the stain glass windows still in place. Wouldn’t that be cool? Maybe a little odd, particularly for a diehard heathen like myself, but still, pretty splendid indeed. Or how about a renovated barn? That’d be kick ass, surely!

I also like the idea of buying up a bunch of those big-assed, metal shipping containers – those 40 foot long ones – and welding them together in various configurations then customizing them for the purpose of residing in them. You could have some pretty cool features, even though you’d possibly have to put up with your neighbors thinking you’d escaped from an institution for “special” people. (Luckily I’m used to that sort of thing.) But seriously, you could do all sorts of funky goodness with those shipping containers. Stop looking at me like that, you know I’m right! The Guv’ner is always right.

Then there’re these things. Am I the only one who thinks living in a giant passenger jet on a piveting pole is the coolest thing ever? I’m thinking not. Well ok, maybe I am. But come on, people, those are awesome and if you wouldn’t want to live in a giant plane in a field, you must be suffering from a rare brain mutation or something. Kind of like people who wear sweaters with pictures of their dogs on them (WTF?).

I’d also consider buying and outfitting some old train cars to live in or an out of commission boat or perhaps a grain elevator. No? I love Grain Elevators. Instead of the name of the town on the side I’d have it say “The Guv’ner invites you for pie” or “Guv Town”. Wouldn’t that be neat?

Or I could live in a tree house. I saw this documentary movie once about some old, crazy lady who lived in a tree house in some remote part of Hawaii and it was the coolest thing you ever saw. I mean sure, she was a dollar short of a wad, but man, she was the best kind of eccentric.

Or…I don’t know…a lighthouse or a windmill would be pretty cool. Anything funky like that would be right up my alley.

Anyone with suggestions of other possibly cool abodes, be sure to let me know, because I’m not insane enough already thinking about this stuff, truly.

Oh and hi! Sorry I’ve been gone so long. What can I say? I’ll make you all a mental cake. Or maybe even a pie.

One Thing…

September 9, 2008

People who use the word “Squee” of their own free will, should be impaled on a sword because they are as deficient in loveliness as people who say “LOL” out loud.

That is all.

Four Things Pissing Me Off Today

September 8, 2008

1. Phones

I know, I know. Phones are a necessary evil. I’m not saying they’re not. But is it necessary to have it glued to your ear 18 hours a day? Can your sister in Oregon really not get through the day without hearing about your new Bed, Bath & Beyond tablecloth? The world’s become a stupider place since cell phones arrived on the scene. People wander all over the sidewalk like drunken ducklings, unaware of anything but their uber-important conversation with someone they’re probably going to see in about 20 minutes. They stroll out onto busy roads like text messaging, lobotomized halfwits, getting up in your grill and under your feet and making you contemplate a massacre when you just want to zone out on the bus after work. Plus, seriously I’m sick of hearing about your weekend, your bitch coworker, your sexcapades, your honeymoon in Spain and your meatloaf recipe, shut the fuck up.

2. Rain

Rain is an asshole. I hate rain. Sure, it makes things grow and the world wouldn’t survive without it, but screw that. It’s cold, it’s wet, it’s gray, it’s ugly and it makes my hair all frizzy. Let the rain flow into a giant, galactic funnel and divert it to some drought-ridden African nation or someone else who needs it badly. It also makes stuff smell funky and I don’t like funky.

3. Sculpted bras

I hate sculpted/molded bras. I hate them with my whole being. I hate going to an underwear store and all I can find are stupid, cock-assed, inch-thick, sculpted bras. They’re molded into shape and they’re so padded you could jump from a sixth floor window onto a pile of them and you’d spring right back up. However, if you don’t need or want to feel like your womanly mounds are imprisoned in a spherical mattress, you’re screwed because good luck finding anything modern and cute without padding and a plunge neckline. Well, unless you really like lacy granny flowers and seams across the center that would trip a racehorse. I don’t know about you but I love having huge, thick lines across the front of my shirt. Why is it almost impossible to get pretty unlined, unseamed or unpadded bras that don’t look like they were made for a hospital matron or a Victorian school marm? Also, have you ever seen a sculpted bra in a D cup? You could fit the whole of Germany in one of those babies! There’s no need for this insanity. Quit it with the giant sculpted cups.

4. Digital photo frames

What the eff? I can’t believe there’s actually a human alive who thought these monstrosities were marketable and classy. You might as well showcase a giant, neon “ASSHOLE” sign in your living room right between your Elvis clock and that glow in the dark pink flamingo you picked up in Florida. Seriously, just knock out a couple of teeth and start banging your sister right now. I’m horrified these things exist and even more horrified that someone somewhere has them in their house where other people can see their crazy.

Now please enjoy this totally unrelated yet incredible photo, demonstrating the awesome that is William Shatner.