Tag Archives: a-hole

What? Wednesday- Are You Trying to Disrupt the Space/Time Continuum?!

27 Jul

Is that $3000 2011 American Dollars or $3000 Little House on the Prairie American Dollars?

Listen up, Greg.  Time travel is no joke.  I have a special place in my a-hole-ish Flux Capicitor-shaped heart for Doc Brown that pumps 1.21 gigawatts of blood through it everyday which means I take the space/time continuum very, very seriously.  I don’t think Marty McFly would appreciate you sending some possible reefer addict to the past and ruining the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance.   

Also, what’s up with the sexism? 

My advice?  Make the inaugural time travel trip yourself, find your past self, work together to get your present self laid, therefore ensuring that your future self won’t be such a  douche bag.

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Your Kid is a Genius? That’s….Yeah, I Don’t Care

28 Jun

My sister is currently searching for the perfect preschool for my nephew.  Can I tell you how crazy this task has been for her?  Did you know that your kid can get rejected from preschool?! 

Let me just say that if that were the case when I was in preschool, I would have been screwed.  I don’t think any preschools would have been jumping at the chance to admit a tall, skinny, scabby-kneed, coke-bottle glasses wearing, hair chewing weirdo who often talked to herself and laughed at her own jokes (that hasn’t changed).

The only thing crazier than filling out a 10 page application for a French immersion preschool that serves only organic snacks with vegan options and costs the same as my Son’s private school tuition, are the cray-cray parents vying to get their kids in.

My sister recently attended an Open House for a local baby Yale where she overheard some crazy s*&t

Parent #1:  My child taught himself how to read and write.

Do ya think he could help me wit dis here formz? Der bee a lot of dem fancy wordz and gobbledygook I caint figger out.

Parent #2:  My son was speaking in complete sentences at 9 months.

Really?  What did your baby have to say at 9 months?  Did he tell you, in an English accent, that he appreciates your nipple hair because it meant he could floss immediately after nursing? 

Parent # 3:  My daughter was walking at 8 months.  She currently plays on the Toddler Olympic Soccer Team (she really said this).

Funny.  You don’t look Asian, but “The Toddler Olympic Soccer Team” must be code for Chinese gymnastic team. 

Parent #5:  My child can speak three languages.

Yeah?  Well, your kid is picking his nose right now….and he just ate it.

Parent #6: My twins can read each other’s thoughts.  It’s amazing.

I can read their thoughts, too.  They’re thinking you’re a nerd who is going to raise them to be nerds.  They say, “Thanks a lot.”

Parent #7:  My son has been playing the violin since he could walk.

That’s nice.  My son can thrash on the drums.  He’s going to be way cooler than your kid and will probably sleep  with your son’s girlfriend someday.

Needless to say, my sister’s search for the perfect preschool continues.

From the Fourth Stooge

24 Jun

Dear Readers:

Thanks for checking out the blog this week.  I still can’t believe people actually read this.

I have received a few blog awards from fellow bloggers as of late.  Thanks to all who think this blog warrants an award.  I appreciate it. 

First, please know I appreciate the shout-outs.  Please don’t think I’m a complete a-hole (I mean, I am, but you know what I mean). 

The thing is, I’m a complete dickhead I’m sort of OCD, and like to have complete control over what I write about it.  I also highly value the anonymity of this blog.  Believe it or not, I’m sort of shy.  I’m sort of weird about putting too much of myself “out there” (the moon landing never happened, the “man” is always looking over your shoulder, Area 51 is no joke). 

Yeah, I’m weird.

That being said, thanks again to all who have nominated me.  I really appreciate it. 

Please take a minute to like my Facebook page and/or follow me on Twitter.  I’ll follow you back.

Have a great  weekend.  I’m planning on smearing myself in peanut butter and lip syncing Search and Destroy.

DMTF

What? Wednesday- If This Buggy’s a Rockin’ Don’t Come a Knockin’

22 Jun

Being a pervy sexting pedophile is not funny.  Being a pervy, sexting Amish almost-pedophile is a little funny.

I hope Little Willie Yoder was in the Witness Protection Program, and that his cover is now blown.

Last Will and Testament of The Coolest Guy Eva’

21 Jun

I had another post all ready to go for today about bathroom phone calls and dealing with the inevitable flush, but then I read this new story, and thought I would share the heartwarming, heartbreaking, tear-jerker with you. 

Here are the CliffsNotes (do these even exist anymore?)  for those of you who just don’t have the energy to move the cursor to the link and double-click, for those of you who are reading this at work while your boss is on his phone in the bathroom and want me to just hurry the F up and get to the point, and for those of you who just don’t car fer da’ readin’ (what are you doing here?).  The article is about a 24 year-old British Royal Marine solider who was killed in Afghanistan.

In his will, this British Royal Marine solider (who I love without ever having met him) left approximately $150,000 to his friends for a big Vegas send-off.  He asked his friends, who have been grieving for over a year, to take the money and do it up gangsta’ style in Las Vegas in his memory.  He asked them to spend every dollar, rent the most expensive room, eat at the best restaurants, go out and party, and remember him while they’re doing it.  (If you’re not at least tearing up yet, please check the battery on your robot heart).

Or course there are those who have a problem with this.  But, I don’t care about those losers.  This kid also left his family money, and left a significant chunk of change to his favorite charity which helps disabled veterans.  So, suck it losers.

This young man put his life on the line everyday and realized, more than others, that life is a gift, and that it is way too short.  If he wanted to treat his friends to a weekend full of drinking, debauchery, gambling, dancing, Cher, and a possible orgy, then who the hell are we to judge?!

Personally, when it’s my time, I want people throwing themselves on my coffin-  because they’re really drunk and they know I would be cracking up at such a spectacle.  I would also want my friends to attempt a gospel version of  Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” while really pouring on the “soul” during the choir part.  I’m laughing just thinking about it.

How would you want to be sent off?

*A-hole-ish P.S.:  This is not a forum for you to debate your political views.  We all have our views, and we are all entitled to them.  The thing is, I just don’t want to read them here.  If I have offended you, then let me remind you that this is an a-hole-ish P.S.  Get over it.

Oh Niner, Niner. I Sound Like an A-Hole. Over.

17 Jun

A client called this morning for my email address.  My email address contains a few “M’s”, some “C’s” and a “D”.  These particular letters are oftentimes mistaken for other letters of the alphabet which means I usually have to use the phonetic alphabet to spell out my email address. 

I can’t stand doing this because I don’t know the phonetic alphabet.  I get really nervous having to come up with something, and I always end up sounding like a complete:

I– as in, ummmmmmm……ice cube?

D– as in dog (easy).

I– as in (long awkward pause) intervention.  Yes, intervention.   (You’ll note that I didn’t use “ice cube” again.)

O– as in (OMG!  I can’t think of anything that starts with an “O”) Oklahoma.

T– as in toe-ma-toe  (classy).

See what I mean?  Over and out.

I’m No Michael Vick, But Still….

17 May

I ran over a dog once.  It was a traumatic experience for a couple of reasons.

I was driving my old piece of shit Ford Bronco. (It should be noted that I hated this car so much that if it were a person I would have challenged it to an MMA fight wherein I would have mercilessly wrassled it to the ground, punched it in the kidneys, head butted it, gauged its eyes out, and then stomped on its nuts.  But, I digress.)   

Our neighborhood is full of kids who like to dart out into the road at any given moment which is why I was white knuckling the steering wheel and going about 2 miles an hour.

Sure enough, I saw an empty skateboard fly out from a driveway, and quickly slammed on my breaks while I waited for Joey Deathwish to run out and grab it.  It was then that I felt a very subtle “bump”.  My heart quickly fell to my stomach.  I knew I hadn’t run over a child (thank God), but I definitely hit something.  

I looked in my rearview mirror and saw a black lump sitting in the middle of the road.  I pulled over, tried to get my shakes under control, and walked over to what I thought was a cat.  It wasn’t.  It was a little black dog, and it was definitely dead. 

I immediately broke down.  I searched for the family. I fought the urge to vomit as I realized I was going to have to introduce myself to these people as  the evil bitch who  just killed their dog. 

I found the family outside the apartment building down the block, and through tears and snot told the first person I saw that I had just hit a dog.  Just then I heard a woman scream “NOOOOOO!” as she frantically looked around for her dog.

I was a mess.  I apologized and tried to explain what happened.  Just then the woman’s husband came marching over to me and chewed me a new a-hole.  I would have been scared if I wasn’t such a basket case.  I was a dog murderer. I deserved it. 

A neighbor who had witnessed the whole thing came to my rescue.  She explained that it was an accident, that I had immediately pulled over, that I found them, and that I was done talking.  She walked me back home where I relived the entire nightmare a second time for Hubby.

After a few days the nightmares started to fade, and I tried put the whole thing behind me.  Then, one night, on the 10:00 local news, I saw what looked like “the” apartment building down road.

I watched through tunnel vision as the heavily made-up news anchor pointed to “the” apartment building down the road while saying words like “dog” and “abuse” and “beaten to death” .  My heart was beating a mile a minute as I waited for the police to kick in my front door.  Could this be happening?! 

As it turns out, the grief-stricken family decided to dispose of the poor dog’s body in the apartment building dumpster instead of bury it.  The body was found by a tenant who thought the dog had been beaten to death.  She called the police.  Apparently, people don’t like the thought of a dog being beaten to death.  Who knew?

I ultimately relived the nightmare a third time when I called the police station to explain what had really happened. 

Readers, this is an example of how things in my life have a tendency to snowball.  It’s why I write this blog.

Please! No One Help Her!

13 May

You know how when you’re having a really bad day or week or whatever, and you feel as though you’re ready to snap, but then you see something or someone that’s a hot mess, and you think, “Oh good!  That is way suckier than what’s happening to me.  I’m so glad I’m not that person.”, and it makes you feel better about yourself and your situation?  

No?  Oh.  Well, I’m an a-hole and I think this is hilarious.   

AAAAAAAH  HA HA HA HA HA !  *deep breath* *HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!  *wipe tears* *snort* OMG!  HA HA HA HA HA!  *pee a little* HA HA HA HA HA!

Oh man.  I feel much better. 

Happy Friday the 13th!

What? Wednesday- And Now a Rap by DJ Shut the F Up

11 May

Don’t worry.  It’s totally ok to make fun of this kid.  I, too, thought I’d go to hell for thinking such cruel, but funny things about this video.    Yes, this kid is a complete tool, but he totally wins.  You see, the only way to get this little ditty out your head is to go to church and pray it away.  It’s a wash!

God is doin’ it.  God is doin’ a nu thaaaaaaaang!  *Spirit fingers*

Your Comments Make Me Better

6 May

As most of you know, I love reading your comments.  You guys are funny, and I love to laugh.  

Here are some of my all-time favorite spam comments:

Nolan Drehobl at Schley10951@gmail.com had this to say in response to my Lost in Translation post in which I talk about buttholes and Spanish accents:

I’m still studying from you, while I’m trying to reach my goals. I easily love reading all that is written on your blog. Keep the stories coming. I loved it!

Nolan, why are you studying buttholes from me?  I’m not an expert. I don’t really know much about my own butthole.  I don’ t feel comfortable teaching you about my anus.  I hope you reach your butthole goal, but you’re going to have to study from another ass master. Good luck, though.

Promotional items at aooce@aol.com was really impressed with my Earth Day post in which I make Mother Earth sound like a drunk floozy.  This is what Promotional Items had to say:

This is the perfect blog for anyone who wants to know about this topic. You know so much its almost hard to argue with you (not that I really would want…HaHa). You definitely put a new spin on a subject thats been written about for years. Great stuff, just great!

Thanks, Promotional Items!  Although I’m no anus expert, I do consider myself an Earth Day guru.  Also, punctuation much?  And, no, you wouldn’t want to argue with me.  I’d cut you.  (HaHa). 

Here’s a comment from Tnfgkgag at puqywd@nkinjc.com regarding my No Old Woman No Cry post in which I bitch about a night out with my sisters:

RNvHWl nnhusabgodsv, [url=http://lpypbmdiitrn.cadl/]lpypbmdiitrn[/url], [link=http://ibeqnwipijqq.cox/]ibeqnwipijqq[/link], http://dsntfsdlgordcom/

That may be true, Tnfgkgag.  Don’t forget, however, that an indefinite military presence isn’t very practical for long-term peace.  

Finally, here’s what Miami Beach Condos at Fukuda8@gmail.com (I like what you did there) said about my Excuse Me, I Have to Poop post about someone I was dying to get away from at party:

I just check the demographics of Miami dade Fl it looks like there less and less foreclosures every month . In 3 Years In febuary we finnally saw it be less than 1000 .

Excuse me, Miami Beach Condos, but I have to poop.