Jokes and Humor Online

The Blonde Bird Lover

2006-05-09T19:57:00.000-07:00

You were the sexy blonde woman at the Marina Safeway last night at about 6:30. Well, I guess technically you entered the store at 6:27 and left at 6:48 (I like detective shows). I was the guy in the poultry section who kept lifting the frozen chickens out of the freezer, holding them above my head, screaming ?be free? and then dropping them on the ground. A few weeks ago, I saw a story on Dateline about a boy who had fallen through the ice and been declared dead when his nearly frozen body was pulled from the lake, only to be resuscitated minutes later. You can see where this is going; we know the chickens are frozen, but are they really dead? My role here may seem purely humanitarian, but it?s also practical. Who wants to buy a chicken, take it home and then realize they suddenly have a new pet? Anyway, I could tell by the way you were looking at me that you liked the cut of my jib. If you remember, I asked you your name and you said "I. Carrie Mace." Cool name. Kind of like the architect, I.M. Pei, I guess. But you left so suddenly, I couldn?t get your number. Coffee?

Space Alien

2006-04-19T10:08:00.000-07:00

Space Alien looking for human male subject for scientific experimenation - maybe more. I'm looking for a man who wants more than capture, probe, mind wipe and release.

I'm 9' tall, grey skin, gills, long smooth tentacles with lots of suckers, cold slimy skin and green eyes. Most men find me attractive! I'm easy going and have a great sense of humor. If you mind meld with me you'll know that. I haven't been in a serious relationship in over 100,000 years - but I think I'm ready again.

I like to spend a romantic evening soaking in a nice big tub of warm brine and have someone to mind meld with and rub my tentacles - touching - feeling - especially the 9th tenacle - if you know what I mean. --- hmmmmmm --- ;;-))

I'll Fire You

2006-04-11T21:55:00.000-07:00

So, you jauntily march into the office at 8:55 AM, ready for another hot, steamy day at work. You're dressed casual, with tight black jeans and a shiny blue button-down. You say the prefunctory "'Morning" to your cube-mates, who begin to drool as usual since you are so foxy. You think to yourself that it's an interesting coincidence that so many managers have taken alot of vacations in the past few weeks. Like every day, you check Fucked Company for your news of the day, since it get's you hot and ready for work action. You think to yourself, "I wish my manager would fire my ass, but he's such a wimp, he'd never do it. Too bad, since he'd be cute if he was more dynamic and forceful. Ugh, why am I so attracted to people who fire me? It never lasts!"

10:00 AM rolls around. Just back from another do-nothing, go-nowhere meeting, you sit at your cube and check FC once more. "Hello! What's this? _MY_ compnay is laying off 75% of it's staff?!? Oh, I'm so hot now! Maybe Jack will fire me, oh, I'm so horny now!" A few minutes later, Jack pokes his head out of his office and asks sheepishly that you come in. You can hardly stand it, you want him so bad! He's really gonna do it! You can feel it!

"Well, I have some bad news for you. The company is laying off 75% of the staff, and my department is being completely eliminated."

"I see."

"Please pack up your personal things into this box, and please sign these papers"

You look at the papers. "Hey, wait, these say I'm being layed off. I want to be fired."

"Huh. Well, no, we are laying you off."

"Are you that much of a wimp that you can't fire a woman when she's asking for it?"

"Well, I..."

"Get some balls! I WANT YOU TO FIRE ME RIGHT NOW!"

"I just...."

"NOW!" You rush over to him, and pull him out of his chair by his shirt collar. "Do you UNDERSTAND? Fire me NOW!"

"OK, YOU'RE FIRED!"

"Oh, YES! More!"

"You're the worst employee ever! You're FIRED! You're FIRED! FIRED!"

The lovemaking lasts for two hours, with the passion getting hotter with each new form to fill out and sign. You've never been fired like this before, not with this much pent-up passion and urgency. You feel like you're being fired everywhere, all at once. After the heat is passed, you go home, satisfied. You pass out, exhasted from the furious firing session from earlier. You wake up the next morning, jobless, yet ready to call for Unemployment with a resolve that you hadn't had before. It's an addiction, but an addiction that you have no intention of kicking. You can't wait until you are fired again.

You Grabbed My Crotch On New Year's Eve

2006-04-09T13:38:00.000-07:00

You thought you were going to have a fun-filled evening didn't you? Your girlfriend @ your side, a drink ticket in hand, nothing could go wrong. So you thought when I walked by & your girlfriend wasn't looking you could catch a little grab @ my crotch. There was no mistake...you grabbed it, & grabbed it hard.

Little did you know I was the manager of the club. Yes, that's right, you just grabbed the manager's vagina. & no, you were not drunk, so that can no be used as an excuse. YOu pathetically denied it as two bouncers pounced on top of you (& even a few other patrons). You were removed per my order. I hope you had a wonderful New Year's after spending $$ on the cover charge that you couldn't enjoy.

Dare I assume you also flash small children in the playgournd during lunch?

Guys who stole my 'boom box' in the late 80's

2006-04-07T11:19:00.000-07:00

You know who you are! Ahh, I remember it well, that autumn day in 1988. My friends and I were headed from school (Catholic grade school, nonetheless) to baseball practice at Aptos Field. Apparently, we wandered onto the literal wrong side of the (MUNI) tracks. There you all were. You crossed the street, intimidated my friends, I saw them receeding, those damn nancy-boy sissies, damn our Catholic other-cheek-turning upbringing. You advanced like an otter stalking its prey. "That's nice, can I see it" you said. "No", said I, resolute in my desire to be able to keep my ghetto blaster. I might want to blast "A Shoulder to Cry On" or anything from BelBivDeVoe in the future. But, you persisted and your friend - the one who apparently was a Joe Pesci in training, the lil' midget - sneered, replying that I better give it up, or his friend would "kick (my) ass". Seeing my punked friends crying and repeatedly making sign-of-the-cross motions, I finally acquiesced, bitterly. Just like it was yesterday, or at least the mid-'90's, I gave an internal guffaw of joy when I saw the speakers come crashing off the base as you crossed the street. "That'll show 'em", I thought. I was shaken. I had messed my pants. But, it's not like I think about it every day of my broken life or anything. So, where are you? Answer if you dare. Hahaha, the last laugh is mine. Byee all!

So you've gone and had our relationship without me...

2006-04-04T08:49:00.000-07:00

On date 3 you are worried about committment? Huh? Did we have a conversation during the what, 15 hours, that we've known each other about it?

"I can tell from your body language that you resist one-on-one relationships" you say. What? How did our conversation jump from Henry Miller to monogamy? Yeah, that makes sense. And where did the "confront your past" bullsh*t come from? You didn't even let me finish dessert!

Have I cheated on you in your mind? Are your imaginary friends saying dirty things about me? Are you moving too fast for yourself and blaming it on me? DO YOU EVEN KNOW I'M NOT JEWISH!! Well, walk away if you must, but just let me know if I was fulfilled in our relationship, or if you were good in bed.

I'm just a girl who likes going out with funny men. That's all. I even pay half the dinner tab. I don't cheat, fanagle engagement rings, or try to change your wardrobe. Ease up, poncho, we were just dating.

I lied in all my previous postings....

2006-03-30T19:49:00.000-08:00

OK, I admit it, I lied. In previous postings, I described myself as slender, attractive, independent, well-read, well-traveled, with great humor....but you saw right through me. Most of my replies were from shirtless, hairy biker dudes with a paunch the size of Gibraltar, whiny little boys begging me to be their Sugar Mama, foreign men hoping for a marriage ticket into the U.S., or guys so illiterate they couldn't spell "trichloroethylene" if their lives depended on it. The rest of you just had big equipment you wanted to show or tell me about.

So no more lies, this is the real me....I'm an agoraphobic. I haven't been out of my double-wide trailer in 14 years. I have 15, count 'em, FIFTEEN cats. I have perfected the art of talking to animals with a brain the size of a walnut in baby talk. I'm convinced they understand what I'm saying if I speak in a high sing-song voice. I'm sure you'd enjoy it if I talked to you this way as well. If you should decide you'd like to come over and visit, I'll run the vacuum on "your" chair. Promise.

My many interests include: The home-shopping network, building mazes out of newspaper stacks, playing "find the dead thing" in the back bedroom, creating mixed media art pieces out of found objects, and talking with my friends. Most of my friends call at around 6:00 p.m. and work for ATT or MCI but we don't talk for more than an hour so I'll have plenty of time for you.

I'm pretty desperate so I'll take about anything. You don't have to be 40ish, sophisticated, good-looking, single, sane, secure, well-read, well-traveled or anything like that. Anyone will do, really. And if it doesn't work out, you don't have to worry about me stalking you or anything. I don't get out much.

Last Night At the Park

2006-03-28T11:28:00.000-08:00

I am sure you are as cute as i thought you were, but i am not sure, it was dark. you were wearing a sweatshirt and you had a cap on. i was the one with the muddy jeans bent over the tree stump. i had fun, you did too (i found out later when i got home and found the stains).

sorry about the poo on your shoes.

coffee?

Boyfriend for Sale

2006-03-26T11:25:00.000-08:00

For immediate sale, one boyfriend, slightly used. If interested, please inquire. Details below:

Model: Caucasian

Gender: Male

Quantity: 1

Previous Owners: 4

Accessories: no baggage

Status: single

Age: 29

Hair: short dark blonde

Vision: nearsighted, hazel

Special skills: puts toilet seat down after use

Training: self-cleaning, chivalry

Personality: funny, honest

Known defects: none

Runs on: Thai food and hamburgers

Habitat: midtown Manhattan

Co-habitation: none (no roommates)

Last rotation: 2 months ago

Compatible with: unknown

Annual checkup: technician's report: "future outlook is bright"

Known allergies: mildly allergic to cats (goes away after a day)

Finances: low debt, good bank balance

Movies: yes

Dinner: preferably with the opposite sex

TV: only HBO

Cloned: yes

Original model: yes

Languages: English, HTML

Sex: varies

Programmable: yes

Condition: a few dents

Price: best offer

To the Ones that Answered

2006-03-24T09:13:00.000-08:00

As for me I think there has to be a better way
for an adult to find a significant other today
I tried it , I admit I posted my note,
I got lots of answers from hordes of men who wrote
great winsome emails that made me grin.
but that was before reality set in.

So do me a favor and spare me the poems
and half baked attempts at palindromes
and all those testaments that you’re 50 but look 35
when you, I, and your mirror know it’s a blatant lie.

I have nothing against bald men who make passes
it’s the fact that you pretend that you aren’t that makes me gaseous.
no you don’t live at home with mom any more
but shucks, you just happen to live right next door.
And when I said I was looking for a little romance
I didn’t mean send me pictures of you sans pants.
And while we’re at it, I was more than amused
the measurements were interesting but what did you use?
did you measure yourself, in which case bravo
or did you just guess in which case ho ho…..

And yes, I meant no married men.
I don’t care that you can’t remember when
the last time it was you made love to your wife
if that’s really true, you should get a new life.
but just so you know that's a very old line,
every single woman knows that cheating whine.

I’m not perfect, don’t get me wrong,
but I’ve been honest all along.
I said I was old, with brown hair and brown eyes
so why on earth were you surprised ?
some of you said you preferred blond hair,
and others wanted some one 22 and fair
what did you think I was lying like you ?
Damn, everything I said was true.
Perhaps you just skimmed my short note
but I am just what I wrote.
and yes I get horny too
but I think the batteries will just have to do..

Tribute to Hunan Express

2006-03-22T20:15:00.000-08:00

Of all the greasy foods i adore,
it is the one, Hunan Express, mi amor.
Sesame, General, Spicy, Lemon, alike,
this chicken, truely, is worth the hike.
Oh my tastebuds grow wild, thinking of such
as brocoli beef, fried rice, and eggrolls i munch.
Calories, sodium, MSG shall not forsake
my yearning for sour spicy soup can't wait.
Such haste in my lunch hour, i must make
for my one o'clock calls, i cannot be late.
Oh ladies of Hunan, scoop away!
Pile on the goodness of grease that i crave.
For nothing compares to a belly-full,
of quality take-out, of Hunan's rare jewel.

For Trade: My Breasts For Yours

2006-03-20T20:36:00.000-08:00

Yes, I have large breasts. Not excessively huge, but big, nonetheless. "A fine rack," you may say. "Big hooters." "Baywatch material." "Nicely stacked." "Melons." "Lovely grapefruits." Or my favorite, "TORPEDOES!" Feh.

The fact is, I hate them. Loathe and detest. Despise. I want them off my body and gone! Not only do they give me backaches, but I can't sleep on my stomach. I find it hard to kiss someone, as there's always this "mass" between us. Sex is a bitch. I can no longer jog. My cat actually WALKS down out of the window onto my lap by way of my breasts! Unfortunately, I don't have much lap left. I have a hard time buttoning shirts, since those two buttons at chest-level are stretched tight and constantly break off and the rest are loose. I often find leftovers lingering there. And odd things, like leaves and Post-It notes.

Yeah, you're probably laughing at this point, but it's really NOT FUNNY! (Well, not unless you laugh at the fact that I actually have a T-shirt that my left nipple has *rubbed a hole in* -- not unlike the way guys pumice their jeans to make their dick look bigger and burlier, like it actually wore through their trousers and is about to chase you down the street. I'm not talking a white, faded spot, though; I'm talking an *actual* HOLE in my T-shirt! You know, so my nipple can look out and see the world (and perhaps chase you down the street), thus mocking me even more.)

Guys, how would you like to have balls so big that you couldn't lay on your stomach or see your shoes when standing? Or jog? Or hug someone without them jutting into the other person, forcing you to lean over or else stand several inches away. Wait, stupid question, why did I ask? Forget I said that.

Girls with small(er) breasts, you don't know how lucky you are! Why in the hell would you want to *increase* the size of them?!? Especially with some gelatinous unknown substance in a plastic baggie, blech! Wait, stupid question. Forget I said that. But that's the reason I'm here!

I want to trade my large breasts for your smaller ones! Mine are pasty white, but I don't really care what color yours are, as long as they're comfortable and I can sleep face-down... and reclaim my lap. No reasonable offer refused.

E-mail me now, if you would like to swap.

Is this why they call it Hotmail?

2006-03-19T18:13:00.000-08:00

I'll tell ya, I come in today to 49 new messages, not one personal. If I believed what was in my inbox, my name would be Joe Blanch. I'd be out of debt, have a bigger penis and breasts, be working from home making $5000 per week, while watching brittney spears and mariah carey in a suck-fuck fest.... AND, Bonus, found all of my highschool friends and classmates that I've lost touch with over the years.

Why Buy the T-1

2006-03-18T19:30:00.000-08:00

OK, some advice please. Please save comment if you disagree. We obviously have a difference of opinion without my being a greedy dot-com.

I've been cohosting for a guy my age for the past 6 mos and we get along great, apache/ssl, ssh, stunnel for email, etc. I've fscked his disks (he hasn't mine because its a RAID array) and we know each other's root passwords. Things are progressing well. We have been having net and now I think it might be time to pull away because, like it or not, I really want him to propose a fiscal arrangement to me and I fear that it won't happen if he continues to get net any time he wants it. There's nothing stopping him from keeping this arrangement indefinitely, right?

My question is: how do I pull back without it backfiring with him thinking that I'm dropping his packets? Ipfw configuration up to this point has been a very nice aspect of our relationship.

I'd appreciate any advice, particularly from other oldfashioned (pre 99) ISPs with similar opinions to mine.

Thanks!

Man-Eating Couch

2006-03-17T19:11:00.000-08:00

Man-eating couch! $1200 (Leatheriticus Carnivicus)

On first appearances, this member of the sectional couch family looks harmless, but after sitting in it for less than 30 seconds, most prey finds itself lured to sleep by the incredibly comfortable cushions and soft fill. When the prey reaches a fully unconscious state, the couch will begin to remove items (loose change, keys, cameras, wallets, etc.) from the victim's pockets. Although this may sound horrible, this particular Leatheriticus Carnivicus is fully domesticated and will surrender most plunder without any fuss. Leatheriticus will definitely NOT run out into the back yard and bury your wallet, although he has successfully hidden a camera for a period of 3 months.

Leatheriticus is in excellent condition--his black leather coat is unmarred and clean.

I have to move, unfortunately, and don't have the necessary pasture land to support him anymore. He can deal with up to 5 prey at any one time due to his L-shaped nature.

Be One of the Cool Kids

2006-03-16T07:15:00.000-08:00

Imagine for a second if you will......... you are driving down the road and all the ladies keep looking at you coquettishly. Is it your new hair plugs? Your new gold medallion you got last time you went to Tijuana? No, it's your car, the very car you bought because of this ad. It's a classic car boys and let's face it, you need all the help you can get; you aren't getting any younger. Prove your masculinity and fix this baby up, it wont take much effort but you can make it sound like you did a lot of work.

This blue 1990 Honda Prelude 2.0 Si is in excellent shape and condition and it must go. I am a lazy git, otherwise I would take care of the minor problems myself.

$1,200 and it's yours.

This car boasts

- power windows
- power steering
- cruise control (FREE dime to hold down the button)
- manual transmission (a stick shift)
- a full tank
(that's right, comes with it's own gas!! act now before my shady neighbours siphon it off)
- clean seats and floors (after you vacuum them)
- moon roof (with a button to work it with)
- five working seatbelts
- ash tray
- coin compartment
- tow thingie (which might be called a trailer hitch without the ball thing on it)
- steering wheel
- AM/FM radio with tape player
- tires (with air)
- possible movie fame*
- over 300,000 miles**

This car has never been

- smoked in
- sold
- stolen
- successfully broken into
- flooded
- abducted by aliens
- out of the USA
- cloned
- bugged by the feds
- used to break the front window of a shop so my mates can run in and grab all the candy bars
- kindling
- a prop in a porno
- used to tow an ATM machine
- possessed by satan
- sued
- used to cruise for hookers
- blessed by the pope
- a clown car
- photographed for a magazine with a hot chick's ass resting on it
- abducted by aliens
- involved in an accident (unless you count the time an elementary school teacher backed into it and caused a small dent -- I was too lazy to get it fixed)
- lit on fire
- intoxicated
- a flotation device
- a feline mating ground
- bungee jumping
- used as a rectal thermometer
- in a monster truck rally or demolition derby
- involved in a robbery, drive by shooting or pyramid scheme
- chatted up
- used to traffic drugs or illegal immigrants
- a substitute for a clothes dryer
- a murder weapon
- affiliated with the Russian Mafia
- flogged

This car has never had

- a creepy dead body in it.
- a jealous ex-girlfriend clinging to the top of it screaming desperately "don't leave me" as I drove away
- inoculations
- expired tags

wow! such a great car..... but what's wrong with it?

- needs a new timing belt to replace the broken one this means you will have to bring a tow truck or levitation device to take the car home with you
- the cable that makes the speedometer work need to be replaced
- the A/C doesn't seem to work
- hardly noticeable pen marks, possibly removable (think of this as 'local art')

This car has never had Microsoft's hands in the design, build, or maintenance. This car is Linux friendly. (but must be properly cleansed due to having been driven thrice by a Microsoft programmer

Just cos I like your pants I'm throwing in a set of chains (that really fit!). Now, when you go...... well, where ever you find snow, you'll be ready.

Email me for any further information, but please do not email asking if I'm serious I AM. Please do not email me with questions which can be answered by simply reading the above. If this ad is still here, the car is still available.

Live the good life, buy my car.

* possible movie fame = they filmed aerial shots for the movie 'Rat Race' in my aunt's neighbourhood in Southern California and my car was parked in the driveway at the time. Yes, I'll autograph it at no extra charge.

** has had the engine replaced once but I don't know when

Sofa Bed - Senseless Victim of Apartment Downsizing

2006-03-15T08:10:00.000-08:00

CUPERTINO (AP) - From the heart of Silicon Valley today, word comes that a two year old, pet free, beautiful and comfortable pull-out couch/bed was slated for termination as economic forces are compelling its owners to move their headquarters from a 2BR apartment to a small 1BR.

When contacted for comment, a spokesperson for the couch's owners offered this prepared statement:

"The economy has not cooperated nor rebounded as quickly as we had hoped. Therefore, effective February 1, we will be moving our headquarters from a sprawling and luxurious two bedroom estate in Cupertino to a 1BR hovel in San Mateo. As such, we unfortunately announce, that we will not have sufficient space or resources to maintain our current furnishing levels, and will be forced to make some cuts. The primary target of these reductions will be our blue sofa-bed."

The spokesman added:

"This couch has served us well for these past couple of years. Though it has not been a seat for any heads of state, or household name tech leaders, it has loyally offered itself on nights of watching rented videos and the nightly news in our den. Its inviting cushions, and navy blue fabric with a stately gold trim will always be burned on our minds as hallmarks of comfort and relaxation. Plus, its capacity for transforming into a bed on extremely limited advance notice has set a very high bar for the adaptability and utility of future furnishings."

The spokesperson continued:

"While it is our stated policy never to divulge the criteria we use to determine which furniture will be selected for termination, let me just say, that today's decision was in no way performance based. We are losing good furniture today. Make no mistake about that."

When contacted for comment, the couch had this to say:

"Though I am sad to be leaving my employer, I understand their decision. I also believe they are treating me fairly. Though, I arguably could be valued at $100 or $200 in today's marketplace, they are offering me, cushions and all, at a drastically reduced price. We have spoken since the announcement, and they assure me that their first concern is making sure I find gainful employment again soon."

To that end, we have learned, the couch's owners are offering this item for the incredibly low (and extremely negotiable) "transition" payment of $20 to any worthy purchaser who will come to Cupertino and pick it up between now and next Tuesday.

Space Alien

2006-03-13T07:55:00.000-08:00

Space Alien looking for human female subject for scientific experimenation - maybe more. I'm looking for a woman who wants more than capture, probe, mind wipe and release.

I'm 9' tall, grey skin, gills, long smooth tentacles with lots of suckers, cold slimy skin and green eyes. Most women find me attractive! I'm easy going and have a great sense of humor. If you mind meld with me you'll know that. I haven't been in a serious relationship in over 100,000 years - but I think I'm ready again.

I like to spend a romantic evening soaking in a nice big tub of warm brine and have someone to mind meld with and rub my tentacles - touching - feeling - especially the 9th tenacle - if you know what I mean. --- hmmmmmm --- ;;-))

Seeking a truly DEPRAVED Man

2006-03-12T08:08:00.000-08:00

*This is a very specific fantasy. Read in its entirety before responding*

You know who you are. You're so over the vanilla sex life. You're into pushing your limits and the sexual envelope. What others consider kinky, you consider tame, maybe even boring. You're one nasty man.

So this is what I propose....

We arrange a time and I come over. You greet me by stripping off your clothes and telling me I own you for the night. I lead you to your living room. From my bag, I take a good length of rope, sit you down, and tie you up to the point that you're completely restrained...

I reach into my bag again and walk over to your TV. Suddenly you realize what's happening. I've put on every episode of every season of Dawson's Creek.

In the meantime, as you're helpless and tied and subjected to what could be some of the worst torture you've ever experienced, I'm running up your phone bill, being cutesy and baby-talking to my boyfriend back in Michigan or Ohio or wherever, telling him how much I love him and miss him.

Or we could just phuk.

To the Girl that Kicked Dog Shit at Me:

2006-03-10T00:37:00.000-08:00

You had no idea you did it and it's not that I'm actually angry at you, but rather a bit puzzled as to how someone could step in a pile of dog shit that considerable, IN STRAPPY HEELS, NOT NOTICE, and then as you continue to do your heel-toe chicken strut manage to fling a small portion of said shit directly into my shin.

This happened on the west side of Sunny Brook Lane near Grand Ave. I saw it in your face that you had no recognition of what you were doing, for that I shall spare you any rage-filled verbal lynching, but by now you must have figured it out, cleaned it off, and are probably neck-deep in the toilet vomiting up the last of your banana nut muffin b/c I SAW some of it on your open toe, which no doubt you have by now as well.

So, shit-kicker, I do not blame you for your actions, for I am a Buddhist and realize the futility of such an action, but I do pose a question; karmically speaking, you stepped in that dog shit for a reason, probably a wrong-doing of some kind in a past life or in this one. I ask you what you think you might have done to cause this event to transpire, and, how did I get involved. As the Buddha taught 2500 years ago, we all keep coming back, over and over again, starting off where we left off from the previous life. So as I'm reflecting on this right now, I realize the error in my ways. Perhaps it is I who owes the apology, seeing as how some sort of horrible transgression on my part towards you was finally paid up today when you sent that Hershey kiss of dog excrement hurtling towards my Banana Republic pants.

Everything is random, yet nothing is. So I digress my shit-kicking girl...I say we're even. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry about that little incident 239 years ago. I never intended to have my horse kick you in the mouth like that.

Ok, that's a lie, I kinda intended, but didn't think it would cause such extensive damage. The practice of Dentistry wasn't then what it is today.

I've Got Big Mountains

2006-03-10T00:02:00.000-08:00

I usually wear minimizer bras. They aren't the sexiest undergarments out there, but the support they give my girls is outstanding. Recently I have been bored with them and since there recently was a sale in my favorite department store, I decided to purchase some bargain bras.

I was attracted to the one I am wearing today because it is a deep red satin, and it's what they call a "Plunge" bra. The support comes from the underwire and from some gentle padding on the sides that also push the breasts together for a little cleavage action. However, with my DD's, this means some MAJOR cleavage action.

I look like Jessica Rabbit. This is why I usually wear a minimizer, nobody has looked me in the eye once today. Half of me is mortified and the other half of me is sashaying around like a Russ Meyer's Supervixen.

I flashed back this afternoon to an experience I had in high school and perhaps the root of my breast-shame. I was wearing a cardigan with a low V and nothing underneath except my bra and was intently reading a book at my lunchtable. I suddenly was struck with something that then went down my shirt. Stuck between my full breasts was a french fry. I looked up to see who threw it at me and saw it was Eddie L., the class prankster, and a friend of mine.

"What the hell, Eddie?" I said and he threw another french fry.

"Hey, you're a fuckin' Happy Meal!" he said, as both french fries were now sticking up from my cleavage. "All you need is the burger and coke because you got the fries and the toys!!!" I was crimson, but laughed it off because I didn't want to be uncool. I never wore a low v-neck again.

Today I am, though. And for the sake of science, I have placed the following items between my breasts here at my desk, to see if my cleavage could support them.

Letter opener, highlighter, white out, nail file, sunglasses.

Just thought I'd share.

I'm a Can of Fix-A-Flat

2006-03-08T11:14:00.000-08:00

Has all of your air leaked out ? Let me repair you so you can put the rubber to the road again. Varooooom...Ladies...you may start your engines.

My repair shop has all the right tools to do the job.

Imagine having your wheels rotated and your carborator cleaned...it's been awhile...how bout a tune up ?

I promise not to leave greasy fingerprints on your body. Let's get those plugs firing again !

This metaphysical mechanic will lay her lesbian touch on your vehicle. There is nothing like the purrrrr of a finely tuned machine.

Stop Continental Drift!

2006-03-06T12:42:00.000-08:00

We need your help urgently! We must inform public about the enormous risk involved with Continental Drift. If we do not stop this phenomenon we will all face a terrible end. If the continents continue pressing forward at their currant rate we will all face the grave realities involved. We can NOT just sit back and take a “wait and see” attitude. This ever-present condition does not just affect us here in this country; it is now a worldwide issue. People of the world need to unite together and go toe to toe with these behemoth slabs of crust. People…This is WAR! If you support earthquakes and volcanic activities then this doesn’t apply to you, but if this directional drift is adversely affecting you, we can make a change!
On Saturday we are organizing a “direct response” We MUST all go to the ocean and collectively PUSH BACK THESE MONSTRATIVE PLATES! WE CAN DO THIS!!!

Bring your fins and flippers or a car jack will also be helpful!

See you there!

I Hate My Brothers Wife

2006-03-05T02:41:00.000-08:00

I really hate this whore that my brother married. I can not describe to you what a selfish-self centered cunt she is. At 35, this little sawed off dwarf (I dont mean to offend the short or those who have dwarfism - BUT I HATE THIS CUNT)- who is a nurse, by the way, ACCIDENTALLY GOT PREGNANT. You do not get accidentally pregnant, at 35, with at least a pretty reasonable grasp on medical concepts. This was such a total ploy, so ridiclously transparent that I want to smack her.

Oh it is not just me that thinks she is a dog-dick sucking whore. My Brother, who will be refered to as IDIOT-BOY, hereafter, when he decided to get married, asked his best friend of 36 years to be his best man, Buck bowwed out and said I want no partof this unholy union. While the vows were being said, my mother wheeled our father out of the church (He was confined to a wheelchair) while they were exchanging vows. My sister and I wore black. This CUNT-DWARFs brother yelled at my friend at the reception - show us your tits, show us your tits. Her whole family is comprised of short, ugly (and I am no prize-winner so I feel I am a good judge of ugly) creatins - with a poor grasp of the english language.

When my mother found out that she was pregant she looked at my brother and said "i can not believe you mixed my genes with hers".

Needless to say I was then STUCK in this blackout with this whore at my house. They had just flown in from Denver. I had to listen to this Stuck-up little bitch ALL NIGHT.

It's so hot - I can't believe how hot NY is (Okay Denver is in 3rd year of drought. It is also in the 90's there. Plus this frickin cunt lived in NY for 20 years.)

These chairs are leather, its too hot to sit on these chairs - I'll stick to them (You little sawed off Smurf - you should consider yourself lucky you didn't get lost between 2 cushions)(You should consider yourself lucky I don't own a gun)

I can't believe the METs aren't playing, I flew all the way out here to see the METS play the Rockies, I don't understand why they aren't playing (Gee 50 MILLION OTHER PEOPLE are inconvienced too - you cheap self centered cunt - By the way that dress you got married in made you look like a fireplug - if you are that short try something with a little shape - EVERYONE thought it was HIDEOUS - you pig)

Why don't you have any diet Root Beer in the house? (Because I don't like, the stores are closed and I can't get any)

Why dont I have any beer in the house? (I don't drink very much)

When my neighbor offered up - pineapple juice (yeah, sorry, canned), fresh squeezed lime, and rum, topped off with mint from my garden - did he get a thank you - no He got "Don't you know how to make a Mohito - and This is warm, Why don't you have any ice." he wondered off mumbling under his breath 'what a bitch, I thought you were making this up.' Sorry Sean, I wasn't lying.

Finally I would like to add how she almost killed me. She was born out of the country, but moved here when she was 2, lived here for 34 years, and went to school in the united states, so she has no excuses for this.

I try to avoid conversation with her - but she approached me on this.
"what are you reading" - I was reading a book for a review of American literature. I said
"oh you wouldn't understand it, its CATCHER IN THE RYE." trying to brush off the conversation. She then said
"oh, its about BASEBALL. I love baseball."
I could feel my blood pressure start to spike, there was ahigh pitched buzz in my left ear. My eye was twitching. I said,
"no - its about alienation."
"Oh, ALIEN NATION, wasn't that a tv series."
at this point the blood was leaking from ear. I had to lie down on the bathroom floor, on the cold tiles, until I could breath easily again. I kept clicking my heels together saying 'theres no place like home, theres no place like home.'

Thank GOD, that thanksgiving only comes once a year. I am already planning on being sick the day before.

I HATE this woman, and I have a hard time dealing with my brother for inflicting this scourge on the family. We all hate her.

If you are a very good looking man, tall, white, (she is Fillapino, but I have only heard of her only dating white men), and can pretend that you have money, or are rich, or a doctor, or a lawyer - my sister and i will pay you $1000 to hit on and seduce this dog-faced cunt (have a strong stomach, I mean it, some asian women are really beautiful --- this one IS NOT) - shes got a kicked in face like a rat-terrier -- we will give you a $1000 dollars to sleep with her get caught and bust up this marriage. My other sister approves of this plan but has no money to kick in, she is very broke, but says if you need baby sitting shes available. My mother says if we can pull it off -- more power to us.

Thank You for listening - Anyone else have in-laws they hate as much - maybe we can get a pool going and hire someone to take care of everything.

Love to all

Give Me Your Slightly Used Ferrari 550 (or G4 Laptop)

2006-03-03T13:23:00.000-08:00

Me (and my poor, crippled mother) really need a car to get to the unemployment office, as my Volkswagen Beetle won't pass smog. If your recent vintage, (98 or newer, please) Ferrari isn't getting used enough, please consider giving it to me and my mother. I would need you to pay for insurance and give me a credit card for gas, oh and drop it off at the shelter for me. Please wash it first and fill it with gas, as I am a person in a hurry and can't imagine having to take time out from my busy day to do those sort of things. Please have your ( free and clear ) title ready for me.

Thank you... I will possibly accept multi-processor Sun boxes and Cisco BFR's, if you'll deliver and configure...

C++ Seduction

2006-03-01T09:02:00.000-08:00

/*program*/
#define MIN_LUST_FOR_LIFE = 10

#include "yourpic.h"
#include "coolness.h"

main()
{
if (lustForLife >= MIN_LUST_FOR_LIFE)
{
sendMeYourPicture();
}
else
{
getLost();
}

while (overEighteenYearsOld == true)
{
if (theNightIsYoung == true)
{
giveMeACall();

arrangeDateOnFridayNight();
}
}
//you must be cool and know it, age 24-28
//i am SEXY, h0t, not a mormon housewife
//being delicious is not everything
}

Clumsy, Uncomfortable Sex

2006-02-27T11:36:00.000-08:00

Please, deliver me a man who kisses with more than the required amount of saliva, rendering me unsure whether to wipe my mouth for fear of embarassing him. A man, perhaps, who fumbles with my breasts as though there were giant bees or land mines - oh, for a man who smells my hair for far too long a period of time as though it did not smell good but merely *interesting*, like a bloodhound attempting to track an escapee hiding in my follicles. A man who has sex with his socks on during The Weakest Link -

(Mike, why did you pick Susie" bump bump bump "Because he didn't know where the Nile river was" bump bump "Mike! You ARE the Weakest link, goodbye!" bump bump bump)

Let him have difficulty with the condom and then ask if it's ok not to use it.

Please send me a man who, somehow, manages to put it in so it feels *sideways* and pokes at my clitoris like he's trying to buzz a deaf person into his apartment. Let him say things like "I'm ramming you!" and "Fum-muma-fum-muma oh oh oh" while he does it. Let him come after three minutes and then, please, please, please let him idly fiddle with his flaccid penis while laughing at Supercuts commercials.

FREE : appox. 3000 lbs. of rotting cheese

2006-02-24T22:08:00.000-08:00

HELP!!!
Okay, so I was out of town on business for the last 2 months, and when I got back I discovered that the manager of my cheese factory left town, leaving weeks of cheese laying out on the factory floor without proper refrigeration. Now the cheese is moldy and unsuitable for sale. It's also preventing us from making full use of the storage area, so I need to have it out of here by the end of the weekend.

You can probably use the cheese for mulch, artwork, or maybe keep it around just in case-- I don't really care what you do with it, I just need it to go away! Please! :)

To avoid complications I ask that whoever takes the cheese take all of it. You'll probably need a pickup truck or a U-Haul to get it, and it may require multiple trips.

Pornography Quote

2006-02-21T23:01:00.000-08:00

"My experience with pornography ... is once you become addicted to it, I would keep looking for more potent, more explicit, more graphic kinds of material. Like an addiction, you keep craving something that is harder, something which gives you a greater sense of excitement. Until you reach a point where the pornography only goes so far, you reach that jumping off point where you begin to wonder if maybe actually doing it would give you that which is beyond just reading or looking at it."

Quote from Ted Bundy

My Resume

2006-02-20T18:39:00.000-08:00

Title:

High Tech Martyr

Objective:

I am seeking a position that will utilize many years experience taking the blame for things that don't go as planned.

Experience:

Company Name withheld (2000-Present)

helped deliver a project 2 months late and $149,000 over budget
created custom reports to accurately display the level of failure
generated colorful charts and graphs to compare this failed project with more successful projects of the past
used multiple sofware packages to incorrectly track progress

Company Name withheld (1998-2000)

successfully accepted blame for a large scale enterprise software soltuion that was never completed
blindly managed 100+ resources towards no deliverable
coversaw $1.2 million allocated towards no particular goal
documented the entire process of false information with multiple software packages

Company Name withheld (1995-1998)

successfully mismanaged multiple projects for clients including Hewlett Packard, Intel, Compaq, Sony, and Toshiba
poorly documented project status with Microsoft Project, Microsoft Excel, and Task Tracker
communicated false and/or useless information to top-level management with PowerPoint
accpeted full responsibilty to save Top level management the embarrassment of failure

Other Duties:

failed holiday party (2002)
forgot to clean office kitchen (2001)
alphabetized files incorreclty (2001)
forgot to FedEx important documents (2000)
insulted CEO's wife(1984)

Additional Skills:

I am also available to screw up and accept blame for private parties, family events, office parties and bar mitzvahs

Contact:

For more information, please leave a comment.
No reasonable offer will be refused.

Asians Can Be Bad Drivers

2006-02-18T16:02:00.000-08:00

My co-worker "Angie" Chen - 3-4 parking tickets a month, and 2 fender benders (her fault) in one year.

My friend "Kym" Tan - Car got towed due to several unpaid parking tickets and license suspended after several accidents

My stepmom (she's philipino)- 2 accidents in 3 years, one of which caused $5000 of body damage to her new car and whiplash to her coworker that was the passenger.

My step sister(again, philipino) - 3 accidents in 2 years, two of which totalled the cars and 1 which caused injury to the other car's passenger.

My friend "Justin" Chung - Drove his suv off the side of the road, down a mountain and into someone's garage. Car was totalled, so was the garage.

So yeah, go ahead and say asians don't have driving problems....

Got Monkeys?

2006-02-16T19:51:00.000-08:00

Hello. I am a caretaker at the Zoo which basically means I clean the animals cages. Well the other day I was cleaning out one of the monkey's cages(name withheld) when he came up and started patting my crotch through my trousers. At first I thought this as harmless play, but soon I started becoming completely TURNED ON! With a visible hard-on the monkey then proceeded to run to the other side of the cage stand on top of a crate and spank his ass at me. What an incredible site! I am completeley heterosexual who loves the site of naked men, but this monkey made me feel the way no other man has. I was about to jump on top of him right then and there and have my way with him, but suddenly realized I was at the zoo. I am a fairly new employee there and am sure they have cameras plastered all over the place. In today's times, I am unwilling to sacrifice my job for a piece of monkey ass. For three days now I cannot get that monkey out of my head. I can't eat, sleep, or drink, (except alcohol which I make an exception) I have contacted several pet stores and have come to the realization that A) Good monkeys are very hard to find. B) I simply do not have the money to purchase a monkey at this time. Please help me. I am not a pervert and am a very well respected member of my community. I just need to get monkeys off my mind. Please be respectful and considerate. Send info/pix ASAP in the comments section.

Neurotic, angst ridden, high maintenance stress ball seeks...

2006-02-15T10:00:00.000-08:00

...polar opposite for a long term, drama filled, co-dependant relationship fraught with extreme peaks and valleys.

Me: I'm always stressed out about friends, family, finances, parking, traffic, breakfast, lunch, dinner, world peace, Barry Bonds bobbleheads, and making a new blog entry here. I'm stressed out right now just thinking about what I'm going to wear, what we'll do, and where we'll go on our first date. And we haven't even met yet! I'm in my 30's, neat, clean, dress very well, short, and Asian. Yup, that will turn off 99.99% of women, and turn on 99.99% of gay men with Asian fetishes out there. Of course the other 0.01% of women who would be interested are already taken or institutionalized. The other 0.01% of gay men with Asian fetishes who wouldn't be interested in me are straight and would want to date my sister.

You: Calm, cool, practice and/or have training in yoga, meditation, massage, aromatherapy, feng shui, hypnosis, anger management, gestalt therapy, shamanic trancework, karma cleansing, transpersonal psychology, frontal lobotomies, etc. Anything and everything that can help me reduce my anxieties, worries, fears, doubts, frustrations, neuroses, angst, stress, and also help improve my grammar at the same time. You're a hopeless romantic, like long odds, and especially love charity work. You also have a keen, albeit morbid sense of humor.

Coffee? (decaf of course)

Bitter Party

2006-02-13T09:36:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Chez America. Tonight's menu is an acidic tribute to the joy of indigestion and irritable bowels brought on by the constant whining, bitching and kvetching of Americans.

Today's specials

appetizer: SUV and rotten egg on the half shell

salad: california sticky greens drizzled with tasteless pseudo-intelligent artist dressing

soup du jour: crotchety local bisque seasoned with a hearty dose of entitlement stewed in haight street hippie stock

Entree: overstuffed obnoxious .com filet sauteed in yuppee scum

And for dessert ..... a big dish of SHUT THE FUCK UP

if you don't like the people who live in this country, leave. It doesn't matter how long you've lived here or how much you feel these streets and buildings belong to you, this country IS the people who populate it. Accept it. The United States today is the .com yuppies plowing down bikers with their SUV's in cow hollow; it is the starving artists painting in dank live/work lofts; it is the horn-rimmed hipsters growing cross-eyed from looking down their noses at the rest of the world; it is the souped up, lowered car-driving asians in the sunset and richmond; it is the bandwagon-jumping post-candlestick giants fans; it is the people who have been here for 50 years and can't accept that change is inevitable. We are all Americans, and if you are unable to tolerate us there are countless other countries you can sample.

I love my new label maker! Buy one today!

2006-02-11T08:35:00.000-08:00

I just love my new label maker and hate machine! They're both extremely cheap and easy to use, and the make my life so much simpler!

The handly label maker lets me know who's who and what's what at a moment's glance. No more complicated thinking about each individual item--just label and go! I liked it so much, I bought 200 of them and handed them out to my friends. You should, too!

As for the hate machine, it's the best thing to come along since Valium! I simply feed my anxieties in the front end and far-flung, widespread blame comes out the back. It's reduced my stress levels immeasurably and I now work more efficiently with all that darned anxiety off my mind.

I'd love to tell all of you where to pick up these incredible items, but all retailers seem to be sold out at the moment. Don't worry, though--shelves should be restocked real soon!

Unless reason prevails in the near future, that is . . .

ALIEN CRAFT FOUND, ...NEED HELP...THIS IS NOT A JOKE

2006-02-10T13:27:00.000-08:00

A week ago I found a large oval shaped capsule about 5 feet by 2 feet in the field behind my house, while looking for a golf ball I had hit in the brush. It was warm to the touch and was in a six foot deep hole in the ground almost as if it had slammed into the earth. I waited until the sun went down that same day, and tied rope around the capsule and then tied the other end to the winch on the front of my truck and tried to pull it out. It kept on slipping off the capsule because the capsule was perfectly smooth except for a few notches in the side. I tried for about 3 hours before giving up and then frustrated, tired, and covered in dirt I hid the capsule as best I could and went home. The next evening I went to Orchard Supply and bought about 20 feet of chain and fashioned it into a "chain net". Again, I went out to the field about 3 hours after the sun had set and hooked up my chain net to the winch of my truck. This time I dug around enough of the capsule to get a better hold of it, and ran the net through the notches to hold it. I revved the engine and hit the winch.

The capsule didn’t even budge. This surprised me as I have a 1996 Ford with a V8 engine and 24 AMP winch. Then all of a sudden the chain snapped! I reattatched the chain where it had broken and tried again. I drove my truck around a large tree and anchored it against it. I hit the power to the winch and about 5 seconds later I hear a huge grinding noise, and my winch tears itself off my front bumper!! I At this point I am extremely pissed off and very tired. Chain is not cheap, and losing my $1500.00 winch, I am even more determined to get this sucker out of the ground, and that meant I had to try something else. I went home and thought about what I could do to bring the capsule out of the ground. I know I needed to act fast becase I didnt want anyone to find it. I had already seen a neighbor peering out behind his fence wondering what I was doing out there 1 in the morning. The next day, I called in sick from work and went back to Orchard and got the heaviest gauge of steel chain they had . I also bought double the length this time so I could double the density of my "net". I went home, and about 5 hours later I had a net that I was happy with. The chain and heavy duty hooks had cost me about $550 and my checking account balance had reached 25 bucks. Because I didnt have a winch anymore, I decided to attatch the end of the chain to my rear bumper. I tripled the amount of chain between the truck and the capsule, so there was no way it could snap again, however my bumper getting pulled off was a good possibility. I revved up my engine and dropped the transmission into first gear, and floored it. I think I felt the capsule starting to come out, but in reality what was reallly happening was that my bumper had pulled itself off!

Ok this was the final straw. I was broke, pissed, and my truck was missing its winch and rear bummper! I called one of my closest and best friends to come and see if he could help me. Before this point I had told no one about my discovery. He came over at 3am and we took flashlights and went over to the hole. The first thing he said was "holy shit", this is either a bomb that some plane had accidenlty dropped, or an alien spacecraft. We both didnt believe it was a bomb because it was too heavy. It had to have been over 5000 pounds to break the chain I had used to get it out. My friend who is a doctor, suddenly got an idea. He ran out to his car and grabbed his stethescope. He placed it against the capsule and I heard him whisper, "oh my god,". I grabbed it from him and listened for myself. I heard little clicking and popping noises coming from within the capsule. We both couldnt believe that this thing had something going on inside of it. We went to my shed to get some tools and started to dig it out. We wanted to find out exactly how big it was. Becasue I live on a hill and its pretty dark and bushy where the capsule was, we could assume that we wouldnt get bothered by anyone after 1 am. we dug for about 4 hours, and just as the sun started to come out, we had figured how large the capsule was, 5 ft, by 2 ft. We then covered the hole with as much brush we could find and no one would be able to tell it was there unless they were looking for it. The next night my friend and I rented a huge 4x4 with dual rear tires, with a v12 and a maximum of something like a ½ ton towing capacity. This was the meanest, strongest vehicle we could find, at a hefty price of $350.00 per day from a guy who told us he we would have to pay him his insurance deductible and pay him an additional $2000.00 if we damaged the truck . We took the truck along with 50 feet more of chain, along with my truck and drove them into position to pull the capsule out. Ok, we fixed up the chains to the trucks and started to pull. THE FUCKIN THING DID NOT BUDGE ONE INCH! Then I had a brainstorm. Why not use the tree above the capsule in a pulley system? So we decided to do this and looped the extra chain over a thick branch and hooked it down to the chain net that held the capsule. Again we started the trucks and floored both. They just spun their tires . Oh did I mention that my bumper didnt pull off this time? It did bend the hell out of it though. Ok so we have found out that this thing weighs well more than 10,000 pounds. It's surface can be scratched but we cannot cause any type of DEEP scratch. Even when we tried to use a diamond tipped drill bit with a high speed drill, all we could do was scratch the surface. It is non magnetic. It will not stick to a magnet. The sounds coming from inside the capsule have changed. No more pops and clicks. Now it sounds like something is revolving inside of it and making a scraping noise. (Both our trucks combined couldn’t pull the capsule out of the hole, using a total of god only knows how much horsepower.)

At this point we are at a crossroads. We have gone to an structural engineer asking if its possible for a 5 by 2 oval space to weigh that much. He said even artificially created super dense nickel steel coudlnt weigh that much in that amount of space. It just wasnt physically possible. His associate who was also present said the same thing. We both left feeling rather confused about where to go next. And this is where we are today. We cant pull the damm thing out of the ground. We are thinking about renting a diesel semi to pull it out with. We dont want to lose this discovery to the government. If you know a way that we can get this damm thing out of the ground and transport it , please let us know. Of course I cannot tell you the location of the capsule or where I live for obvious reasons. I live somewhere North in Nevada, and that is about all I can reveal. If you know where I can get access to any heavy lifting equipment please email me. I need to lift about 15,000 pounds and upward. There is solid ground near the capsule and some concrete. I need to keep this thing as discreet as possbile. A semi is going to raise a lot of suspicion and we dont want cops and neighbors going over to look at what we are doing. If you are an engineer or scientist, please lead me with a way to pull this damm thing out of the ground. You will be commenting on this blog entry. Serious people only please. I didn’t just spend the last hour typing this for kicks. This isnt a damm joke, or a prank, or some made up story. This is for real, and I need help for real.

Brad

2006-02-09T07:20:00.000-08:00

We both know it’s over and there is nothing more to talk about. BRAD. Which is something we need to discuss. I just hope you see this, because I never want to see you again. I love you. Why is that so hard to say? I love you. Okay, maybe it isn’t that hard to say, here in front of all these people, but it is hard to say, to you, especially when you smell of bagels. I won’t say where in the Haight you live but I hope you can tell it’s you I’m talking about, Haight & Masonic Brad Who Smells of Bagels. My haiku tattoo still hurts. But it’s over. Already. My pet name for you has 7 syllables - all of which I’ll know I’ll never use again. It will fuck up my life. Imagine going through life without using the syllables -moth, -fuck, -cock or -suck. Nevermind the -ing or the -er. Why did I have to think of that particular phrase? Oh yeah. But why do I still love you? BRAD? How’s SARA FROM THE RECORD STORE, BRAD? Or, sorry, is she just called “Blue Hair?” You know, sometimes you remind me of some club promoter scamming at bridge-and-tunnel chicks at Burning Man, some ex-dotcom guy from the Mission by way of the Marina who used to be professional tagger in New York (like ‘BRAD’ would look phat on the subway wall) then “lived all over” as a Hipster with cool glasses but is now a Yuppie Blueshirt hanging out at AquaLush. I don’t know why you remind me of all those particular things but you do. Get over it. Boo-hoo. Sometimes you are like really bad poetry - short meaningless phrases, long self-indulgent stanzas, hollow self-pity that rhymes with Fall of The City. Sisco, Disco and Frisco - this is funny to you. Tickles the irony-bone. Whereas I - I look good and I know what I want. I take care of my body. I take care of my mind. I hated my former job anyway. But I’m an SF NATIVE. I’ll be fine. I know who I am. I’m a completely whole non-redundant person, independent, thriving on my own, needing no one or no thing except a voice and the remote. I ALWAYS have my shit together, or stored nearby. Yes, lately I’m online a bit much, and right now I’m in the middle of a longing frenzy for a sick freak of a waste of a man who doesn’t deserve the love of a leprous shark, but I’ll be over this shortly and then I will survive. Or I’m a survivor. Both good songs. I’m a woman of the nineties, ten years later, bitch. I know what I want. I even have a list. I have two lists now. What I Want and What I Can’t have. You are not described by the form and you are proscribed by the latter. Right after red meat and ecstasy. But then I miss you. You’re like bacon to me. Now I’m with someone else, he’s like wonderful fluffy pancakes. But I always want to order a side of you. You get caught in my teeth. Cholesteral has four syllables. But BRAD Cholesteral has five.

Stay out of my blood - Stay out of my heart, Brad Cho - lesteral haiku.

Please post bail & I'll give you an Aeron Chair

2006-02-08T11:35:00.000-08:00

If you can post bail for a friend of mine, I will give you an aeron chair for free. The bail needs to be posted by Monday at 10am. Please respond ASAP, first come, first serve.

A Public Service Annoucement From Your Kidney

2006-02-07T18:40:00.000-08:00

Some people are laughing so hard from reading this blog that they are peeing, so this one is for you guys:
++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hi there,

This is your kidney speaking. I know we haven't communicated in awhile, what with you being all busy at work and stuff, but I've been trying to send messages your way that I haven't been feeling too good. I'm glad that somebody finally forced you to go to the doctor to get me all fixed up, because I was thisclose to just giving up and is this the way we really wanted to go anyways? I hope you realize now that people care about you and that if you did die all alone in your apartment, it wouldn't be weeks until someone found your dessicated corpse. (More like days, I'm sure.) Please take care of me, and let me rest for awhile. Sit in bed, watch TV, let your mind rot, not your kidney. Eventually I'll get better and then I'll be back up to the task of filtering out all the crap that you put into your system. Please eat real food, not anything that costs less than a dollar and comes wrapped in a piece of paper. That's dog food, not people food. I have enough problems processing that shit when I'm well, don't make me do it while I am ailing. I realize that you may just think this is the Vicodin speaking, but I really do want you to get better cuz without you, I'm nothing but a bean-shaped piece of organ meat.

Love,

Kidney #1.

(Kidney #2 sends his regards also, and says if you ever fuck him like this, he's going to make it so that you pee like a racehorse for the rest of your miserable life. Luckily, I'm a little more forgiving than him.)

short guy/tall girl disaster

2006-02-06T06:48:00.000-08:00

Like a lot of kids who went to high school in the 1970's, I often rode the school bus. One morning on the way to the bus stop, I saw this small poodle-mix runt humping Daisy, our neighbor's female Dalmation. The runt was on his tip toes, banging away, and Daisy's tongue was hanging out and her eyes were glazed over. I said to myself, "Way to go Little Guy!" and chuckled on to the bus stop.

I boarded the bus and sat down next to my friend, Rod, and was in the midst of telling him about Daisy's morning liason when we both heard a loud, desperate yelping that turned our attention toward the window. I don't know what you all know about dog sex, but they get turned around, butt to butt, as the male's unit swells up. It can be difficult to seperate them until the "moment" passes.

Well, apparently something had spooked Daisy and she came sprinting down the street in our direction. The poor runt was attached, butt to butt, with his hind legs now about six inches off the ground while his front paws and chin were slapping off the sidewalk every ten feet or so. He was essentially being bashed against the pavement by a freaked out bitch that had a firm grip on his penis (deja vu, anyone?). A couple minutes later the runt trotted back past, by himself, with a little spring in his step. Kinky little bastard. Asu and I thought it was the funniest thing we'd seen in our entire lives.

So, that's why I try not to have sex with big women. And when I do, I'm very careful not to spook her...

Only 48 Hours to Live

2006-02-05T08:16:00.000-08:00

I just came back from the doctor and he told me that I only have 48 hours to live. I have been diagnosed with a rare-condition that was caused from lead-paint. On my short list of things to do before I pass, I would like to have two girls team up and slap my ass. I am 24, 6'3 210, need a quick response as I have many things that need to get done before Tuesday.

To Mr. Aisle-Seat Jackass

2006-02-04T07:50:00.000-08:00

... Look, no one likes flying. Airports are havens of stressed-out, disgruntled people. So I can completely understand if you were not in the best of spirits. And I myself was not thrilled to be sitting wedged between you, Mr. Aisle-Seat Jackass, and Chatty McWindowseat on my other side. I just wanted to sleep, after having spent a weekend sharing a hotel room with my dad who snores like a friggin’ chainsaw (I could hear it right through the earplugs).

So, after sitting down, getting settled and comfy, and dozing off while the flight crew jabbered about exit rows, I was somewhat startled awake by your sharp elbow painfully jabbing my arm off of our shared armrest. That's right, shared. And I was maybe using a centimeter of the very back of my side of said shared armrest. Well, Mr. Aisle-Seat Jackass, I am not one to be elbow-jabbed so rudely and let it go. I thus reinstated my elbow, comfortably working my way so that I now occupied my fully alloted 50% of the elbow rest, much to your quite obvious frustration, and closed my eyes to doze again. Or feign dozing, as you would have it, as you continually jabbed and prodded with your elbow, to no avail - when I decide to stand fast, man, you ain't proddin' me out of that decision, no Sir. At one point I even opened my eyes, stretched my arms above my head, glanced at you and smiled pleasantly, and calmly placed my elbow back where it rightfully was allowed to reside per United Airlines decree. Frustrating, wasn't it?

But you know, when Chatty McWindowseat then got up and left to join her conference buddies in another aisle, it really only made sense for me, the center person, to take over her seat. I think most airplane patrons would agree that the person occupying the center should be the one to shift to the newly emptied window seat. However, I could tell you were pissed off about that, and felt it to be a great injustice - largely because you made a face like a troll and then glared at me and coughed so loudly and hackingly and obviously that I thought you might be trying to donate a lung, on the spot. What a Good Samaritan he must be, I tried to force myself to think! But no, you were simply expressing as eloquently as possible that you wanted the window seat. Did your Mom give in to your whining demands for candy when you did that as a child? So anyway, realizing this, I even rationalized that you were such an extremely pissy specimen of a passenger that it would be in my best interest to swallow my pride/stubbornness and just appease you as much as possible, if nothing else, to stop the hacking.

So, I then offered you the window seat, since you were clearly so attached to it - but you made that awful face again, pretended you didn't understand English (which I later realized was not the case), and turned away (after strewing your personal belongings all over my purse which I had leaned against my side of the now-shared center seat, which I am obliged to point out took up maybe four inches of the 24 or so total available inches of seat-width). Fine, I didn't mind strewing your dandruff-covered jacket aside when I need to switch CDs. I also didn't mind that your precariously-placed laptop nearly slid off about five times during the course of the flight.

Then, the movie started. Now I realize you really REALLY wanted to look out that window, but since the flight crew had specifically requested that we lower our window shades for better viewing of the film, and since I myself was in fact interested in watching said film, and lastly, since common etiquette and sense dictate that the person who sits at the window, controls the window, I shut the shade. However, you were such a whiny little fucktard about it that I even specifically caught your eye, smiled, and opened the goddamn window shade during the movie and indicated to you that you could look out the window since I’d opened it just for you. You just shot me another charming little glare, though, so I shut it in the interest of creating a NICE DARK AMBIANCE for movie-watching.

And the first two movies did suck, I admit, but the third was cute and wittily written and even had some bona-fide laugh-out-loud moments. And as such, I did titter audibly, I confess. Never mind that entire row behind us was chortling so violently that it literally shook our seats (and caused your laptop to nearly fall once again). It was still definitely justifiable for you to shoot me the most withering glare you could muster as well as doing that sigh-cough-borderline-lose-a-lung thing again to punish me for the offense of quiet laughter. Especially since you SANG OUT LOUD IN BENGALI to the fucking Bollywood flicks you were watching on your laptop, complete with head and arm motions that literally extended, if we want to get technical, across the entire 24-inch berth of the shared center seat and into my this-is-clearly-my-seat-now area. Yeah, fuck me for tittering, I should be arrested.

And THEN, and this is my personal favorite, you refused to get out of your seat to let me pass by to use the bathroom, forcing me to cram my ass in your face while passing. Seriously, you could have at least slipped a dollar in my g-string for that kind of move*. Were I a woman of a lesser caliber, I would have farted in your face. Come to think of it, I wish it had occurred to me at the time. But I reluctantly chalked it up to your apparent lack of a keen grasp on the English language. Into this category I also lumped the fact that you did not stow your personal belongings as the flight attendants insisted (and I must say at this point I actively willed your laptop to fly off the seat during the incredibly turbulent landing - and it almost did, several times, but it never quite succeeded – was karma on vacation?).

But then, as we were shuffling to get out of our seats, several people asked you to help them get their bags - and though surly and pissy as ever, you obliged. But I studied you carefully during these interactions - and noticed that these were not simple, basic, pointing requests. They were complicated sentences with multiple clauses, highly descriptive adjectives, and many unusual and/or challenging verbs, prepositions and nouns, such as "Could you please hand me the navy coat that is wedged in to the left of the green suitcases in the far left corner... yes, that one, thank you!" and "Sir, would you please hand me the red bag - no, the larger of the two, with the pom-poms, no, the one on the right, yes, thank you so much".

Now, to give you the benefit of the doubt, it could simply be the case that you are a beginning student of English and you just finished the chapter on colors. I myself have studied, let's see, six foreign languages, and they all teach you the colors somewhere near the beginning in one fell swoop, right after the chapter on "objects in the classroom" and before the one about all the various professions in today's modern world. (Well, all except Latin - they just jump right into who's slain which mortal in the name of Zeus and whatnot). So maybe that's the case - you just have a really really keen grasp of English when it comes to colors and basic requests, but not so much with the "I'm so sorry to have to wake you, but could I please exit to use the restroom", "Would you like to switch seats", or "Did you know that you are the most insufferable sexist pigfaced jackass I have ever had the displeasure of encountering?". Maybe that's it. You know, I'm a certified ESL instructor; I'd be happy to give you a hand with that if we ever cross paths again in the hopes of teaching you some BASIC FUCKING DECENCY skills as well, for the low price of FREE, in the interest of benefitting anyone who ever has to interact with you, ever, ever again. So, if you read this, drop me a line.

Jackass.

*Just kidding - who flies cross-country in a g-string? I mean, seriously.

Seat #22D, United flight #221, IAD to SEA,

dear fat girl on the plane to charlotte: you owe me $35

2006-02-03T09:11:00.000-08:00

you were so, so nice. i'm not taking that away from you. you asked me about my book and where i was going, and i replied though i am ashamed to say i could not look you in the eye because i was so CRAZY PISSED.

a typical plane seat in economy class is approximately 17 inches. breaking down my 9.2-hour roundtrip journey, i paid approximately $127 for those 17 inches. by my most modest calculations, you owe me $27.70 for the four inches of comfort and privacy you robbed me of. let's round that figure up to $30 for that spot where your massive thigh was rubbing against me the whole 2.5-hour flight. add another $5 (again modest) for our shared armrest having to be up because you could not fit in the seat when it was down. if i wanted to put my seat back, i had to pretend like it wasn't embarrassing for you (yes, i was concerned about your feelings, too) for me to ask you to lean forward so i could pull out the armrest a little and push in my button. good thing i didn't want to see the in-flight movie.

i by no means hate fat people. i believe in the freedom to do or eat anything you want so long as it does not infringe on my freedom. this is purely a matter of financial injustice.

i'm just saying that if you need two seats, pay for two seats. don't hate on the skinny girl who paid just as much, if not more, for those precious 17 inches of limited plane space.

if you're out there, please mail $34.63 before january 8 or $34.61 after (i'll pay for the stamp--it's only fair).