Friday, April 13, 2007

It's just... icky.

Help me out. Can someone please tell me why breast cancer gets pink ribbons, brooches, walkathons, corporate co-branding, TV specials and supermarket check-out coupons, while prostate cancer gets... nothing?

I suspect it's because everyone loves a nice pair of tits, but nobody's interested in the gland hidden up a guy's ass.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

An ass from the past.

While nosing through an online dating site you discover pics of your ex-wife. She looks hotter than ever. You:

A) Muse glassy-eyed at "what might have been."

B) Feel a tinge of guilt knowing you've found happiness while she is still lonely and searching for a special someone.

C) Call her out of the blue knowing the odds are good you can still hit it.

D) Register under a phoney name and send her a "wink", attaching pics from a gay porn site.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

An August Body in December.

Had a few of the usual suspects over for drinks & chili: G-man, Fluff, B.O.L., and good old Squando. G-man brought his issue and B.O.L. brought his old lady. Some interesting things were said, including these gems:
  • Why do you think I signed up for this gig?
  • You don't have fake tits, do you?
  • What can I say, she likes black cock.
First person to correctly guess who said what gets an extra reacharound.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Let's Party!

Top ten signs your 16 y.o. stepdaughter threw a party while you were upstate for the weekend:

10) Entire house smells like beer.

9) Ornamental cornucopia gourd found smashed, replaced.

8) Carton's worth of cigarette butts in lawn.

7) Fresh blood stains on carpet.

6) Keep stepping on slivers of broken beer bottles.

5) Dog sleeping in crate for first time since potty training.

4) Newly-discovered patch on living room wall.

3) Laptop, digital camera, GameBoy DS and $700 cash missing.

2) Puke and chips in hottub.

1) Neighbors saw the whole thing.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

A head with no brain - and two good ears.

My wife often complains that I don't listen to her. It's not true. I listen but sometimes, I simply don't hear. I'm pretty sure this is because my attention is focused elsewhere, absorbed in some other task, and so the message is lost into the airwaves, like a public access cable program nobody is watching. I'm not ignoring her, she just hasn't gotten my attention yet.

The other day I was busy doing... something... who remembers... and she asked if I wanted to fool around. My ears perked right up and she had my full attention.

Apparently this didn't escape her notice, because now whenever she has something important to tell me, the sentence starts with "Fool around, ..."

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Don't Try This At Home

Yesterday morning I notice I'm low on gas, so I take the next exit and head up to the gas station. After the exit there are two single-lane roads which merge into one double-lane road. After about a quarter mile it narrows into one single-lane road.

So I'm coming up on the left road and to the right, on the other road, is this grey Elantra. The car has huge rims, fartcan exhaust and a curious array of dents, as if someone carelessly rolled an anvil over the fender. Now, instead of slowing down and yielding to me, who is driving a superior and much more expensive car, the other driver accelerates so that, at the merge point, he is right next to me. This makes me nervous, since I have no idea what this idiot is up to. I fall back until I see he's going to stay in his lane, then I pass him because, well, basically, I don't like being behind anyone when I'm driving, especially on a one lane road when the car in front of me has a high probability of spewing gutted cat stink.

I am first to the one-lane portion of the road and phucknuts is right up my butt, like he's gonna give me a run. Whatever. Eventually, the road widens up to two lanes for a traffic light. I'm on the left and the Elantra pulls up next to me on the right, when I get my first look at the driver, who is looking like a proper modern gangsta. He looks at me and OPENS THE DOOR, and I'm like, great, is this how it's gonna end, getting capped at the stoplight by some guy whose wheels are worth more than his entire car. Instead, he leans out of the car and hocks a two pound loogie straight onto the ground.

Now, I'm no expert in street lingo, but clearly this was some form of ghetto dis, directed straight at me. No way was I gonna let this challenge stand unanswered. The light turned green and as I suspected, I got John Force next to me. So I nail it, enough to pass him and then keep slightly ahead of him in my lane. What sucks for him is I know this road very well, and coming up around the next blind right turn is a major intersection and there's a good chance there are a bunch of cars stopped at the light. So I speed up even more, knowing full well what might lie ahead and knowing that my superior brakes will be no match for that tuna can. So we're approaching the right, and we're into it, and sure enough, the light is red and we are suddenly hurtling toward about 12 cars across three lanes (two plus a left turn lane).

I reel it in and slip into the left turn lane while my poor little BEEYATCH, apparently driving too fast for traffic conditions, locks up his fronts. This is really a bad idea since BEEYATCH has never heard of weight transfer and all that dope racecar shit. Well he is learning about it now. I check my rearview, he has gotten all sideways and next thing he hits HARD, driver door into the Econoline plumbing van that was, up to that moment, minding its own business in the middle lane waiting for the green. Me, I didn't have to wait for the green since, at this point, it was the left turn lane's turn to go. The gas station was at the corner but I thought, I'm done here, and I have enough gas to laugh my way to the next station.


Friday, August 25, 2006

Move along, nothing to see here

I've been back from RV-ing for a few weeks now, but the experience is as fresh in my mind as if I were dumping the black tank this very second. It's been said that living in an RV is not about what you bring with you, but what you leave behind.

I brought my cell phone and left behind my shaving cream.

With my cell phone, I learned from the dogsitter that two huge tree branches mysteriously fell on a totally calm day. One of the branches scored a direct hit on the utility mast and took down our electric, cable and phone lines. TV, internet and phone was dead. Mercifully, the electric stayed on so we didn't come home to a houseful of spoilt food.

By leaving behind my shaving cream, I learned that Astroglide is unbelievably better for shaving than any shaving cream is. I highly recommend it.