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6 Nov

If you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time you should realize by now that I amuse myself so much.  It’s true, I don’t think anyone laughs at my jokes as much as I do.  If I had my own show on Comedy Central, I’d be my number one fan.

This morning at work I was hanging out with two of my mail friends.  They’re almost the total opposite of one another: where one is totally buttoned up and conservative, the other is totally laid back and casual.  Casual Dude made a comment about how nice Buttoned Up looked today, so Buttoned Up proceeded to tell us how every election year he’s always caught by a camera crew and asked for an interview.  My take is because he dresses the part.  His take is that he has to be prepared in the event they ask him.

Meanwhile, Casual Dude has what appears to be a bunch of schmeg all over his pants.

  • Me: What the hell happened to you?
  • CD: What do you mean?
  • BU: Your shirt is totally wrinkled.
  • Me: And what’s that all over your pants?
  • CD: God damn it!  What is that??
  • Me: Guess we know who’s really excited about the election today.

Maybe you just had to be there…You totally should have been.


This is What I Look Like on Saturday Night

21 Jan

Depeche Mode, Jersey Belle, Oingo Boingo, and South Philly Fashionista can totally attest to the fact that this is what I looked like after inhaling far too much tequila that time we went to Mexico together.  This baby nailed the performance, she deserves a baby Academy Award on your toy shelf.

I wept when I saw this.  Actually wept.  I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard since my sister told me a little story about a conversation between 5 year old Lucy(fer) and 7 year old Damien.  The whole fam was in the car and the song “Pumped up Kicks” was playing on the radio.  A song which I introduced the kids to, even though it’s about a shooting. It’s got a catchy tune and I figured they wouldn’t know what it was about.

  • Lucy(fer): Why do the kids in the pumped up kids gotta run gotta run?
  • Damien: [straight faced] To outrun my gun, faster than my bullet.

For some reason, imaging them in strapped into their car seats having this conversation made me laugh.  I have problems.  I know.

Protected: I Will Eat Your Face

19 Jan

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A New Take on Passive Agressive

1 Nov

Yesterday afternoon I had lunch with Biggie.  After a rough weekend, he felt there was only one way to turn things around: with bacon.  When he extended the invitation he said he was on the verge of killing someone and he had to get off campus, PLUS he offered to pay.  How could I say no.

Once in the car, and after we exchanged pleasantries (which of course included comments on my fine rack and his disappointment when he saw I was wearing pants), he proceeded to tell me why his weekend had been so shitty.  It wasn’t one thing, but a series of things that led him to his breaking point.  His dog decided it was time to eat his favorite shoe, then proceeded to vomit pieces of it on the brand new white carpet in the living room.  Someone keyed his car at the grocery store.  Saturday morning he went to open the fridge for the cream he puts in his coffee, only to realize he had forgotten to buy some the previous day.  His mother-in-law showed up unannounced and decided it was time to reorganize some closets – for four hours.  After leaving, his wife harassed him all night about going.  He refused since because of the weather, so she decided to stand in front of the TV while he tried to watch a little college football.  And to top it all off, on Sunday night, his wife took a brand new gallon of ice tea out of the fridge and proceeded to drop it on the just mopped kitchen floor.  The bottom popped off and the tea spilled EVERYWHERE.  This set him off and he went into freak-the-fuck-out mode.

He went on a tirade on how much life sucked and why people don’t listen, and blah, blah, blah.  He yelled so much and so loudly that two sets of neighbors proceeded to show up to make sure he and his wife were not in some kind of danger (read: that he wasn’t beating his wife).  When they asked if everything was okay, he proceeded at yelling again.  It all ended in a massive headache.

When he woke up in Monday morning, the dog refused to get up for his morning walk.  It took an extra 15 minutes of cajoling to get him on the move.  He took a look at the car and realized it would require scraping all of the ice off the windshield – making him late to work.  Once he was done with the dog and the windshield he went back inside the house to say goodbye to his wife.  She rolled over, and asked him if his headache was gone.  “Yes,” he responded.  “Good.  You were a total prick last night.” and she rolled over and went back to bed.

As he told me the story I was rolling – especially when she called him a prick.  That’s when he started sharing what she typically does when she gets mad at me.  Her wonderful and creative techniques include hiding his good socks, and clearing out the DVR.  So he’ll wake up to watch a TV show he recorded, only to realize it’s completely gone.  But my favorite – this one had me weeping – is when she walks into the kitchen while she’s there, takes out the pitcher of iced tea he’s just brewed, walks over to the sink, and pours the entire thing down the drain while she stares at him.  She then puts the pitcher on the counter, leaves all the tea bags in the sink, and just walks out.

Almost makes me want to have a boyfriend so I can pull that kind of shit.  Good times.  Good times.

Best Quote of the Year

5 Jan

I recognize we are only a few days into 2011, however, I do believe I’ve already heard the quote of the year. You be the judge:

“If porn has taught me anything, and I believe it has, it’s that old MILFs love anal.”

Beat that!

Even Better than “Who’s on First”

29 Jul

I’m sitting here with Depeche Mode as we’re both “working” from home today.  The discussion turns to names and we begin discussing how much we both hate the name Bob.  Hate.  A lot.  Then we move on to the following:

  • Depeche Mode: I don’t like the name Bobby for a grown man.
  • Me: It’s kind of cute, not so bad.
  • Depeche Mode: Where do you stand on Robby?
  • Me: Ugh, hate that for an adult.
  • Depeche Mode: What about Robb with 2 b’s?
  • Me: That’s just stupid.
  • Depeche Mode: Yeah, I don’t get it.
  • Me: So where do you stand?  Are you 2 b’s or not 2 b’s.

That’s when I proceeded to laugh and laugh because I love stupid puns.  I was then promptly told by Depeche Mode not to do that at his table.

Shakespeare is rolling over in his grave right now.

God, I seriously crack myself up sometimes.

Rape Me In My Thighs

17 Jun

I think I broke something laughing at this.  And I may have peed on the ouch a little…


31 Mar