Pink's Lair

Photo With Caption, Men's Room Edition

2007-04-20T09:27:00.000-04:00

Seen over a toilet in a New York City men's room. Click on pic to view readable version.

I laughed so hard I pissed all over the seat.

It's just... icky.

2007-04-13T09:34:00.000-04:00

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.

Photo Without Caption

2007-04-04T20:32:00.000-04:00

Puttin' on the Mitzvah

2007-03-21T12:55:00.000-04:00

This past weekend Mrs. Pink & I had a great time at a bat mitzvah. A bat mitzvah is the jewish equivalent of confirmation, except entering adulthood is a lot more work for a jewish kid than it is for a goy like me.

For example, to be confirmed there are only two words you have to say: your confirmation name, and "amen", and I'm not even sure about the "amen" part. Nobody but the bishop can hear you so if you somehow manage to screw up, no big deal. Conversely, to be mitzvah'd (if that's even a word) you must read passages from the torah, which is written in hebrew, using correct pronounciation and pitch, in front of the entire congregation. A torah is a huge scroll which looks like it weighs 25 pounds. It takes two other people to roll it under the reader's eyes. Even if the torah were in english on a teleprompter, I don't think I could do it.

Which is probably why the bat mitzvah party consisted of two catered receptions in two days, with open bar, free valet parking, a DJ, an MC, four dancers, two photographers, a videographer, a roving magician, a production number featuring the guest of honor and her family, with four flat-panel monitors showing highlights of the party as they happened; while my confirmation party involved a six foot hero and Charles Chips.

Looks like someone's got a case of the Mondays

2007-03-12T11:15:00.000-04:00

The first thing I saw this morning was two empty bottles on the nightstand. Astroglide and Macallan. It's going to be a good week.

Pink's Grotto

2007-03-02T09:07:00.000-05:00

Pink's putting in a pool!

Today's agenda...

2007-02-07T07:25:00.000-05:00

shrewness wins anilingus! Not because she was right, but because she lives close enough for a booty call.

I haven't switched to new blogger and I don't intend to until forced. Two reasons: 1) like bluto, I don't give a rats ass and 2) I don't like that the "search all blogs" link is gone from new blogger. Why would they do that? People want to search more, not less.

My 16-yo stepdaughter has done it again. We let her have another party Sat. night mit hot tub and believe it or not, left no rubbers or jizz slicks in the water. However, she like most other 16-yos is a trendy little snapper and as such loves to be seen drinking Starbucks. Up until now I eschewed the whole Seattle "we're so proud of our coffee and panini" mythos in favor of Folger's in the morning, occasionally treating myself to a supersize Dunkin' Donuts with half-and-half. (As an aside, Dunkin has gone way downhill in recent years, stay tuned for that rant).

So that she can be seen as like, totally awesome, my 16-yo brings home a bag of Starbucks French Roast and brews some up for her guests. I of course exercise eminent domain over party assets and grab a cup. Not bad, I thought, but kinda extreme.

That was four days ago. Today I can't get enough of this liquid crack. I tried going back to my old Folger's and nearly spit it out, how could I have wasted so many mornings drinking that supermarket merde? I'm done, I'm spoiled, I'm relegated to a life of paying triple the amount I once did for coffee. I'm having some right now. It's worth every penny. And I'm getting like three times as much work done every day.

Thanks 16-yo, I owe ya one. Now if I can only learn to enjoy Panic at the Disco.

Ahead of schedule

2007-01-19T09:03:00.000-05:00

With the purchase of a battery-powered plastic device, approximately 6.5" long and having a generous girth of equal measure, I've become an eBay Turquoise Star way ahead of schedule. This is great news. I may live to be a Purple Star after all.

Anilingus to the first person to correctly guess what I bought.
Offer subject to restrictions.

An ass from the past.

2007-01-11T07:43:00.000-05:00

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.

An August Body in December.

2006-12-06T18:06:00.000-05:00

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.

Metaphorically speaking, that is.

2006-10-19T08:50:00.000-04:00

Many of you have emailed pink to express your frustration about visiting here and seeing the same old post. I haven't forgotten about you. I've just been, as my old boss V.S. used to say, "up to my asshole in alligators" and something has to give.

I think it's because deep down I feel kind of a guilty pleasure, shameful almost, about spending time blogging. It's just such a total waste of time, time which invariably could be put to better use. It's so self-indulgent. It feels good but doesn't get you much further.

Kind of like masturbating for the third time in one hour.

Let's Party!

2006-10-03T13:58:00.000-04:00

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.

Calm down and have a drink.

2006-09-25T12:18:00.000-04:00

I'm sick and tired of how restaurants totally gouge you on bottles of wine. It pisses me off when I'm asked to shell out 35 bucks for a bottle we all know is worth maybe $7.99 at retail, particularly when the wine I really want, and for which I might pay $10 at retail, costs $45 or more in the same restaurant. Fuck that.

Yea, I know we're paying for the convenience, for the experience, blah. I don't mind one bit going to a nice place and spending good coin for a meal prepared by a chef whose heart & soul (and maybe some sweat & hair) are in every bite. Worth every penny. But what skill does it take to pull a cork out and parade me through the faux bottle-tasting ritual? Answer: none. Value to me? Zero.

Look, I don't even mind paying a few bucks more, crap, even a 100% markup on wine to have it with a nice dinner out. But you greedy restaurant-owning bastards beware, your days are numbered. Keep it up and I'm going to start pounding Yellow Tail in the parking lot before I order another $35 bottle of pisswasser.

A head with no brain - and two good ears.

2006-09-19T12:29:00.000-04:00

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, ..."

Don't Try This At Home

2006-09-13T09:51:00.000-04:00

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.

CYA L8R BEEYATCH!!!

Move along, nothing to see here

2006-08-25T11:08:00.000-04:00

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.

On the road again

2006-07-28T21:22:00.000-04:00

We're going camping this week in a rented RV. It's kind of a test run to see whether we want to plan a cross-country RV trip next year. Judging from the ride home from the rental lot, I don't know if I'd want to drive one of these things cross country. It feels like I'm driving my shed, only less solid.

It does have a/c and a king-size bed though. I'll let you know if any threesomes break out. I packed the Astroglide, just in case. See you next week.

Won't be needing AP Bio for that

2006-07-26T14:40:00.000-04:00

We are living in the golden age of pornography. Back when I was a kid, which was some decades ago, the only way to see dirty pictures was to sneak a visit the stationary store, which in our town was called "Ha Cha's". I'll never forget how shocked I was the first time I saw a man's mouth between a woman's legs.

We couldn't actually buy the stuff, however, so our curiosity had to be satisfied in tiny tastes, sneaking a peek at a top-row magazine and, once in a lucky while, snaring an old Playboy from someone's older brother. Nowadays, it's common knowledge that one click on the right URL will grant you a front-row view of any imaginable sex act, and many unimaginable ones. See e.g. twodicksinoneass.com.

Easy access to pornography has ultimately rendered it less shocking, more acceptable, and has moved the entire porn subculture into the mainstream. I know this is true because today while I was leaving the dry cleaners, I saw a mother and her 10 year old-ish daughter get out of a late model Mercedes.

The little girl's t-shirt?

"Future Porn Star".

Slobs

2006-07-21T10:35:00.000-04:00

I am somewhat of a car nut. I like to keep my cars clean and new-looking. It doesn't take much effort really, just wax them twice a year, wash off bird shit immediately, wipe down the interior with a damp rag every so often, and no eating or drinking in the car.

Yesterday I had to swap vehicles with my sister-in-law because she was taking all the cousins to an amusement park and they all wouldn't fit in her minivan. Her minivan is barely a year old yet looks like it's been driven to the moon and back - to pick up garbage. It was on "E" and the inspection sticker was expired.

So I shouldn't have been surprised when she returned my truck with 32 oz of Coca Cola seeping into my leather seats & console.

People Soup

2006-07-17T09:05:00.000-04:00

It was over 90 degrees yesterday. Since we don't have a swimming pool (yet), the next best thing is the hot tub. But even with the heater turned off, the water in the hot tub was a steamy 98 degrees.

Just for the record, two sleeves of ice cubes will lower the temperature of a hot tub by five degrees. They feel pretty good under your bathing suit, too.

Satan, thy name be texting

2006-07-12T16:37:00.000-04:00

A few months ago I changed cell phone carriers and went from having three separate cell phones, each with its own plan, to a single family plan with shared minutes. I figured it would save us about $50 a month.

This might have been the case had I not succumbed to the seemingly innocent request by my 16 year old stepdaughter to let her have an LG "The V" phone. It's one of those phones where the top flips open to reveal a tiny QWERTY keyboard - kind of a dumbed-down Blackberry.

The first month she rang up $120 in text messaging overages. While this was somewhat disturbing, I told her it was fine as long as she paid for the overages, which she did.

Next month she rang up $320 in texting and ringtone downloads. She paid $30 from leftover birthday money, and assured me her next few babysitting jobs would pay for the rest. I assured her that if she didn't pay the bill her phone would be cut off.

Just so you know, a 16 year old girl would rather have her arm cut off than her cell phone. I was sure she'd find a way to pay the bill and curb her texting usage.

Next month's bill brings another $360 in texting and ringtone overages. She has no money, so I cut her phone off. That costs me another $175 in early termination fees. These phones are going for $200-$300 on eBay so I decide to auction it off to recoup some of the cash.

Before selling the phone, I had to clear it out. Before clearing it out, I decide to see what all these frigging text messages are.

I find out she has been doing threesomes with a guy and a girl in her 10th grade class.

Great. Not only is my cell phone bill now more than my electric bill, someone in my house is having threesomes, and it's not me.

A Turquoise Star

2006-07-09T09:49:00.000-04:00

If you've ever used eBay, you're probably familiar with their feedback rating system. You probably know that when you have a successful transaction, you're expected to leave positive feedback for the other person, and hopefully, the other person does the same for you. A positive feedback increases your rating by one. Once in a while, things don't go so well and you have the option to leave a negative feedback, which decreases the other person's rating, or a leave a neutral, which neither increases nor decreases the rating. I'm proud to tell you that since I joined eBay in 1999, I've gotten only positive feedback.

eBay recognizes their members' ratings with little colored stars. Currently my rating is 84, which means I have a blue star. When I reach the next level, at 100, I get a turquoise star. The level after that is a purple star.

Thing is, to get a purple star, you must attain a rating of 500. To put this in perspective, it's taken me seven years to reach an 84 rating. That's 12 per year. At this rate, I'll become a turquoise star in the fall of 2007. By the time I turn purple, I'll be pushing 80.

I will probably die a turquoise star.

Designer Drugs

2006-07-02T12:54:00.000-04:00

Pharmaceutical science has progressed to the point where we can now create drug molecules purpose-built to combat specific conditions and diseases.

I'm waiting for a "Weekend Getaway" pill. You give one to each of your kids on Friday after work. They fall asleep for 60 hours, and wake up happy and obedient on Monday morning.

It should also come in a Plus version, which contains an antidiuretic so they don't wet the bed.

How Pink Got His Groove Back

2006-06-30T11:07:00.000-04:00

A while ago I deleted my blog. Although I had several reasons for doing this, the primary reason was I felt I had nothing very interesting to say on a regular basis. This may well still be the case, but I'm back.

The road back wasn't easy. What I failed to realize is when a Blogspot blog is deleted, the URL is freed for re-use. So naturally, when I came back a few days later to start afresh, I discovered some other person had assumed my URL for a blog consisting solely of reposted wire service news articles. What a dick.

Now what was I supposed to do? I could have started a new blog under a different URL, but then I would have to contact all my blog buddies to ask them to update their links to my new URL. As it turned out this was a non-issue, since everyone deleted my link anyway.

I'm certain a news wire service spends a lot of money researching, editing and publishing their content. I'm certain they would appreciate knowing their content was being republished without their consent. I was certain they would want to know that their right of copyright, as recognized in Article I, Section 8 of the Constitution of the United States and as embodied in Title 17 USC, was being willfully and wantonly infringed. Indeed, I was certain that if the wire service knew their content was being stolen, they would assert their rights under the safe harbor provision of the DMCA and demand Blogspot take down the infringing material. Moreover, because it's a violation of Blogspot's Terms of Service agreement to post content that infringes any copyright of any party, I was certain Blogspot would not only take down any offending posts, they would terminate the offending account.

It worked. I'm back. Now if only I had something interesting to say.