Taste my time, bitch

Today I went to WalMart and bought myself a sweet-ass Casio G-Shock watch. Try to keep your envy in check, because this is one sweet-ass sweet piece of Morris Day and the Time. WalMart charged me a mere $82. That's a good $15 under retail. How is this possible? Because they pass along Payroll's healthcare savings on to me, the customer. I don't give a damn whether a schmuck in a smock has health insurance for his kids as long as I have a few extra bucks to eat at McDonald's after shopping. I'm the customer. I don't care how they slaughter the pigs as long as I get a cheap pork chop.

Anyway, I bought the G-Shock because it's shock-resistant, atomically synchronized and solar- powered. These are all important features in a watch. First, consider the G-Shock's durability. You never know when you'll need a watch that can pull 22 G's. For example, let's say I get into another gang fight. I want to pop Senor Julio Hubcap Wife-Beater in his shaven head without inhibition. I don't want to worry about breaking my watch off on his gold-capped tooth or in his ass. Wearing a G-Shock, I can pass out the knuckle sandwiches with conviction. And because my G-Shock is atomically synchronized, I'll time-stamp the precise time into Julio's forehead so he knows exactly when he got bitch-slapped. And just before I bitch-slap him, I'll say something really cool like "At the sound of the slap, it will be time to run home like a punk and drink a 40." I'll also use the stopwatch feature to time how long it takes for the laughter to stop. Most people don't realize that gangbangers have great senses of humor.

As the photo depicts, my G-Shock has a rugged, manly look that tempts the ladies. Nothing says "class" like a moderately priced digital watch about the size of a hockey puck Velcro-ed to your wrist. My wife will love the countdown timer on my G-Shock. I will, too. I'll set it to 3-minutes so when the alarm goes off, I'll know to dispense with the foreplay and get to the main course. The best lovers hold to a rigid time schedule and itinerary. With love-making, it's all about efficiency.

Get this. My G-Shock is solar-powered. That means alternative energy. Don't tell me I'm not caring for the environment. In 6 years, when other watch owners are agonizing over a dime-sized battery making its way to the dump, I'll be smugly boasting my eco-friendly timepiece. Plus I'll save $3.99. That's another meal at McD's!

Interesting story: the girl behind the counter was trying to up-sell me to an "eco-drive" watch. According to her, the watch gets it's power from the movement of your hand. She explained that initially I'd have to move my wrist around deliberately until it gets an initial charge. I told her that I'd probably just slap that baby on my wrist and jerk off for 5 minutes or so. Kill two birds. Strangely, the sales girl suddenly remembered it was her break time and called an effeminate clerk named Antwon for relief. Wrap me up one of those G-Shocks, Twon.

Speaking of time: I've been wondering about this. See if you can help me figure this out.
Alright. Imagine that a supernatural force stops the motion of the entire universe. Atoms and molecules seize. Radiation and energy freeze. Planets halt their orbits. Galaxies cease spinning. Michael J. Fox stops trembling and Ted Turner's lips remain pressed together. The entire universe is now motionless. Question: does time still exist? If so, how can you perceive it? How would you measure it?

Answer: My Casio G-Shock watch, beeeeeeeeeeeeeeyooooooooooooch!


Nine bullets, nobody killed

  • A girl recently posted a question on her blog. She wrote, "Why are men such assholes?" I wrote back, "Because women are so forgiving."
  • I really loved that show, Sex and the City. One thing bothered me, though. It was that word they always used -- fabulous. Everybody was fabulous, just fabulous. In fact, each character's quest was achieving fabulousness. Here's the thing. From what I can tell, fabulous translates to "filthy whore." If you ever watch a SATC and you hear the word "fabulous" (and you will!), think "filthy whore." You'll find it's a perfect one-to-one.
  • I'd love to see a gang fight between The Beastie Boys and Run DMC.
  • Remember that Indian on TV who used to cry? When I was a little kid, I'd watch that commercial and think, no wonder you people lost the continent. You're shedding tears over litter? We Europeans burn people on stakes and eat popped corn while their bodies smolder. Heck, the only Indian I'd expect to cry is that one fella in the Village People, and only if they canceled Lifetime. I don't understand. Indians could make a totem pole out of settlers' heads, but a Baby Ruth wrapper makes them cry? Somebody explain this to me.
  • Every Windows computer should come with a "stop-whatever-the-fuck-you're-doing-and-listen-to-me" button.
  • Whenever The Man rips me off (the auto mechanic, the plumber, Uncle Sam, Sirius Satellite Radio, etc.) I exact my revenge by marching down to the local Chinese buffet and eating 17 times the bill in General Tsao's Chicken. I don't care if it takes me 9 hours and a colostomy bag. Somebody's gonna reimburse this honkey.
  • Kids often wonder who would win in a fight: God or Superman. When I was young, I wondered which would win if I ate both at the same time: Pepto-Bismol or Ex-Lax. I guess it would depend on what I ate for lunch. For example, if it were a #13 from Filiberto's, I'd give the nod to the Ex-Lax.
  • Remember when Domino's Pizza promised delivery in 30 minutes or less, or the pizza was free? I used to slash the delivery driver's tires just before I ordered. Then I'd drive home, wait for him to show, and give him a truck-load of grief. "Where the hell have you been? I'm starving. And why are your hands so damn dirty?"
  • Ideas excite. Thought persuades. But observation proves.


Poor Richard's Almanac don't have shit on bloggers!

Dear Readers: Below is perhaps the finest collection of aphorisms one can find. Read and profit from them. And don't forget to visit the contributors. Their blogs are chock-full of the same wit and wisdom you'll read here.


• Republicans are people that say "Government Doesn't Work", and then get elected to prove it.

• The amount of work required to complete a project will always expand to fit the deadline.

• Donuts make your pants shrink.

...There must be a LOT of Republicans working at the DMV!
...How true! And expenses expand to the limits of a budget.
...Again, how true. Donuts are pharmaceutical-grade fat pills.


Long awaited important phone calls will come at the exact minute you decide to finally "go."

...That's why the phone always rings when you're on the crapper.


If you never try, you'll never fail; but if you never try, you'll never succeed, either. Try and fail; try again, fail better.

...I believe this is the Democrats' motto for national elections.


1. If anything will go wrong, it will, at the worst possible moment. WITH AN AUDIENCE.

2. Never take a laxative and a sleeping pill at the same time.

3. If in doubt, blow jobs will ALWAYS get a woman out of a jam.

4. "Plumber's Crack" is directly proportional to the final bill. The more buttcrack showin', the more the bill will be.

5. In commerce or love, window shopping is free, it's only when you put things on lay away that you get in trouble.

6. Always say thank you.

7. Always compliment the cook.

8. Always wash your face and ass (in that order), and wear clean undies (you never know who'll see them).

9. Never laugh when your lover disrobes, even if you're thinking of something else. You'll either get in the doghouse for laughing at them, or if you admit it wasn't your lover you were laughing at, you'll be in the doghouse for not being in the moment.

10. Always eat the best you can, even if it's a PB&J or a tuna sandwich.

...My, NuggetMaven. You could rival Lord Chesterfield with such a collection of pithy wisdom! Regarding #1: What is it about an audience that makes one's fly zip open?


What we call 'freedom' is usually just 'lack of opposition.'

...Indeed, I'm always free to leave parties. Nobody opposes the idea!


You can only give real love, respect and honor to others when you have the same for yourself.

...I've told my penis that a million times.


I'd like to have a law that I get a house boy who wears a suit like Superman w/ a big H on his chest complete w/ a cape and just appears when I call him and disappears the rest of the time and caters to my EVERY need.

...I've sent you an application. Do you do criminal background checks or drug testing? If so, please disregard.


Anything in life that brings you actual physical joy has to be either illegal, immoral, or fattening.

...You must have been raised Catholic, Junebugg.


He who smelt it, dealt it

...I've found this to be true. I'm usually the "dealer" after a #5 combo from Filiberto's.


Anything's possible with enough lubrication.

...Indeed. But just because it's possible doesn't mean you should do it.


Too soon we get old, Too late we get smart.

...Too BAD this is true.


I like the saying, "It's only kinky the first time you do it"

...Blogging is a glaring exception. It only gets hotter with repetition.


• Only about 10% of the time when you think/say, "That sounds like fun" will it actually turn out to be fun.

• The best answer to the question, "Can I ask you a question" is usually, "No."

...So, so true. Disneyland is the best example of this law.
...I know. Especially if the follow-up question is "Have you gained weight?"


Your eyes will deceive you, your heart will often send you down the wrong road, but your gut never betrays you. If you feel in your gut something isn't quite right, it isn't.

...Have you been taking profundity pills, NGF? Because that's the deepest and truest so far. Incidentally, I find one's own genitalia to be spot-on accurate, too.


• no matter how early i get up, if the appointments before 11am, i will always be 1hr late, so i might as well stay in bed as long as i want.

• your children will always need to use the toilet as soon as you get in the taxi even if they've just been.

• no there is not time to just check your email quickly.

• no matter what any man might say whilst trying to sound enlightened, uncomfortable but gorgeous shoes do turn him on..... and thats ok with me.

...Regarding the last: You see right through us, Keda! Also: thongs.


Poopie's piss law: When drinkin' beer, once the bladder is primed with the first four, each subsequent beer must be followed by a trip to the bathroom to make room for the next.

...I believe Bernoulli demonstrated this back in the 18th century.


Just as soon as you finally buy that trendy piece of clothing that you wanted, it's listed the next month as a 'Don't' in every magazine!

...Hold on to them, Miztris. They'll make a comeback on VH1 in 20 years!


The final words of an idiot are most often: "Hey, watch this!"

...I shouted that very thing when I began blogging.

Mom of Three

• No matter how enlightened a parent you might posit to be, if a kid hits your kid, your first reaction will be that the other kid is a little shite. If your kid hits another kid, your first reaction will be that the other kid must have done something to provoke it.

• Bank charges are a tax on the poor. If you're rich, you don't overdraw that checking account to keep the lights on, do ya?

• People who still believe that the government cares about them are like women who take the man back after he beats her, just because he brings flowers.

• My retired USMC husband says that all gas-guzzling vehicles might just as well have a sticker on the gas cap that says "Powered by a dead soldier."

...So true
...Same with most fees! How many RICH people fret over a traffic ticket, for example?
...This should be in high school government textbooks EVERYWHERE!
...Your husband is a wise man. I hope you're blowing him regularly. "Powered by Cosmo."


1. That which doesn't kill you only makes you meaner.

2. When times of trouble are upon you, blame the next youngest sibling.

3. If a bear poops in the woods, some how, some way I WILL step in it.

4. If at first it won't go in, make sure it's the entrance you are trying to use, not the exit!

5. Never attach emotions or feelings to a discussion about an ex, unless your trying to add to your list of ex's!

...Regarding #4: Where were you on my wedding night, CacaBoy?

Frap Gurl

If you've failed at everything don't go skydiving!

You can NEVER change anyone!

If you call your mother-in-law the "C" word.. you will soon be divorced!

...Perhaps skydiving is the very thing you should do, if you're a chronic failure!
...Tell that to a transvestite. You'll get a purse upside your head.
...Still, sometimes it needs to happen.

As Always, Rachel

Alcohol makes funerals more fun.

...It also increases the estimate one places on one's odds to win a bar fight, often with dire results.

Spinning Girl

The elasticity of the waistband is inversely proportional to the size of the meal.

...I recently proved this law at a Chinese buffet.

Atilla the Mom

Every time you order a multi-disk series from Netflix, Disk 1 will suddenly become "long wait" and they'll send you Disk 2 first. So you either have to hang on to the damn thing until 1 becomes available or watch it out of order and wonder "WTF did I miss"?

...Corollary: the more enthralling the scene, the more likely the disk to have a fingerprint smudge.

Dave Morris

Always drink upstream from the herd.

...And never piss on a fuse box!


• You can't fix broken people - they have to do that for themselves.

• People are tempted by either sugar, or alcohol. Thin people are a gamble, fat people are easy.

• and finally (As I type more come to mind): Never buy a car you couldn't have sex in comfortably.

...True, but you can have a blast manipulating them.
...I knew we were underestimating the value of fat girls.
...How nice to be YOUR car salesman! You redefine "test-drive."


1. Sometimes, there's nothing for it but another vodka cherry sour.

2. Adults and children behave in exactly the same ways. Just watch awhile. You'll see.

3. Fuck y'all, we're from Texas. ;)

...Only sometimes?
...I can't wait, then, to read my little girl's blog!
...That's it. I'm moving to Texas. So many cool bloggers hail from Texas.


1. The stupider the person, the louder they are.

2. Anything fried in bacon grease is a sure winner.

3. you can sitll raed tihs as lnog as the frist and lsat lttres are rghit.

...Or, perhaps, the MORE THEY TYPE!
...Bacon grease does just fine all by itself.
...After two martinis, those letters reassemble themselves into satanic messages.


The waitress will always wait until you've just put food in your mouth to come up and ask how you're enjoying your meal.

The instant you sit on the toilet, your services will be urgently required by 1 or more children.

You can't deep fry an ice cube.

...OMG, I've often said that. Bravisimo!
...Corollary: The minute you rip a fart, your family will come walking into the room.
...You haven't been to Louisiana, Candace


My law is a simple one, taken from an old zen story, "everything changes."

...I've always believe in the adage, everything stays the same, except the frequency of blowjobs after marriage.


Procrastination is like masturbation, it's all fun and good until you realized you've just fucked yourself!

...That never stopped me.

Oh Great One

Speaking louder doesn't make you right.

...Somebody please tell Bill O'Reilly this!

Monkey Pot Pie

I have only one law... Karma. What comes around goes around, so don't be an asshole.

...This one I can only wish were true!

Edgy Mama

Read LBB daily.

...You are the wisest blogger known to me, Mama.


Here's one my husband likes to use: Opinions are like assholes -- everyone has one, and no one wants to hear yours!

...Your husband's law doesn't hold in the blogworld. But outside of that, it's fine counsel.

The Doggy Did It

Hmm, thou shalt not read blog of smartass guy who is way smarter and funnier than me, lest I develop a complex.

...You run no risk of that here, Doggy.


Beer does not make you more handsome; it just makes you fat and less likely to care. Now, whiskey, on the other hand...

...So what gives with all those thin, sexy models drinking beer in the commercials? Are you claiming that's a misrepresentation?


Spammer companies should be allowed to recieve death threats to their family on an hourly basis...If a person who works for a spammer company decides to kill himself, the law should allow any assistance needed to complete his or her death quickly with no problems.

...Bennet, I'm nominating you for US Senator. We need more thinking like this!

Memphis Steve

The bigger the lie the more power it has, the more support it enjoys from the media and academics, the more funding Congress will give it, the longer it will live, the more "everybody knows" it.

...My word! That one is heavy. I really, really like that one. Man-made global warming comes to mind!


Breakin' the LAW...Breakin' the LAW

Thanks a million to those of you who submitted your laws to my Snoop Bloggy Blog. What a bunch of little Ben Franklins you are! Or Machiavellis.

I'm gathering them up now and I'll post them soon. Yay!


The limitations of Stretch Armstrong

Toys have come a long way since I was young. And dolls – Pardon me. Action figures – are no exception. For about 100 bucks you can buy your kid a robot that walks, talks, grabs things, interacts with his environment, farts(!), pleasures curious adolescents (special attachment sold separately) and learns English faster than the Chinese kids in the "gifted" class. They call him Robosapien. He's amazing. Five minutes playing with this miraculous toy and I was on the phone with my congressman, warning him that these Robosapiens are about to become self-aware and take over the planet. Long story short, I'm now on the FAA's "Do Not Fly List" and I have to remain "more than 1000 feet from elected officials of public offices at all times." I'll have the last laugh when the Robosapiens make their move.

But enough about Robosapien. I'd like to resurrect an old toy from my childhood: the Stretch Armstrong dol... action figure. Stretch Armstrong's super power, other than pulling off the Speedo look, was that his limbs could stretch several times their original length and then retract to their original size and shape. Imagine a toy like this in the hands of a 6-year-old boy. Of course he's going to test Stetch's limits. I know I did. I enlisted the help of a friend and together we pulled Stretch over either side of the family Winnebago. The look on Stretch's face was priceless. If only he could talk, he'd say, "You sadistic little bastards. Don't you have a gerbil to torture? You future serial-killing bastards!"

Yep, I abused ole Stretch. My experiments went beyond linear dimensional analysis. Curious of his mysterious flesh, I tested Armstrong for blunt force trauma, puncture-resistance and flame retardant materials in his Speedos. Parents think toy guns cause violent behavior in children and advocacy groups have all but eliminated them from toy stores. I don't know how Stretch Armstrong flew beneath the radar. We tortured that poor bastard daily. We honed our torturing skills to a fine science. I once ran over his torso with my bicycle just to see if he'd survive. He did. The first few times.

I think they should re-introduce this piece of 1970s kitsch in the form of a foreign POW. I think kids today would love a Stretch Armstrong Prisoner Action Figure. And think what great elementary training these action figures would be for tomorrow's soldiers.
"Tell us where the nerve gas is, you terrorist scum. What's that? You don't feel like talkin', huh? Don't like Barbie's panties pulled over your head, do ya? Well, we'll just see if we can loosen your tongue by stretching your arms across a parking lot and jamming this superball up your ass! How do you like them apples?"


What's YOUR law?

First, let me get this out of the way. Regarding the photo on the right ---------------------->

"I hope that's a dictionary because I think it would be cool to look up the word 'fellatio' while she's giving me a blowjob."

OK. Now that I've got that out of my system...

Dear Readers: Have you identified any of life's rules? Do you have any bits of wisdom? Have you discovered a universal law you'd like to share with us? If so, please post it in the comments section. If I get enough of them, I'll make a post featuring all my readers' laws, and we'll all be a little wiser for the rest of our lives. Below are some of mine:

LBB's 16 Laws

1) As religion loses its ability to elicit guilt, environmentalism fills the void. Our enterprises were once an affront to God. Now they're a threat to the ecosystem.

2) The least compelling motive is gratitude.

3) In order to commit a crime, you must first perceive yourself as a victim.

4) As designers make cars more reliable, auto mechanics make repairs more expensive at a rate that the real cost of driving remains constant.

5) The only cost-of-living expense politicians won't decry is the tax burden.

6) Those who make more money than we do are greedy. Those who make less money than we are either lazy or stupid.

7) Kids won't find fun in any activity lacking an element of danger.

8) Luxuries, once attained, become necessities.

9) We wear Spandex to show we're thinner. We drive luxury cars to show we're richer. We join causes to show that we're better. We argue politics to show we're smarter.

10) The human condition: a mind working to mitigate the troubles the body's cravings caused.

11) Diet foods leave us craving an amount of food equal to the calories we spared ourselves. Therefore, we tend to eat until we've consumed as many calories as the non-diet equivalent. For example, we'll eat twice as many half-calorie brownies. Corollary: We can never drink enough zero-calorie soda.

12) Nobody's future is what he had in mind.

13) Cars, women and button-up shirts never look better than they do on the showroom floor.

14) No matter the subject, the contents of a $140 college textbook become completely obsolete every year. Luckily, publishers have a $150 new edition in your syllabus's "required reading" section. Tenured professors never become obsolete.

15) Organized mediocrity often goes further than scattered genius.

16) What the liver is to the body, humor is to the psyche.

So, what's YOUR law?


Watch yourself, Boy.

Howdy. BP Calister here. I hope you don't mind. I had some Calister IT boys hack into this little dog and pony show you call a blog. I just couldn't help myself. I had to join in the fun.

Now it appears to me that you've got yerself a case of diarrhea shootin' out your word hole. We need to plug it up.

You see boy, we don't take kindly to outsiders bad-mouthin' a glorious state like Texas. In fact, in less civil times you may have found yourself on the business end of a pistol whippin'. You're lucky those days have passed. Of course, every now and again a little snot-nosed punk like yourself goes missin'. Strictly coincidental, naturally.

We got us a good ole boys' club here, all of whom benefit from Calister Oil. We've got friends from Abilene all the way to the White House. I'd hate to have to give'em a call and rile'em up on account of what you wrote in your last post. I don't think they'd take things as lightly as I have. You understand what I'm saying? You catch my drift?

That's a cute moniker, "Lightning Bug's Butt." Boy, the thought of lightning bugs takes me back. You know what we used to do to lightning bugs when I was a kid, boy? We'd swat'em down and pack'em into an empty beer bottle. Then we'd seal it shut and watch them flash their little asses off until they ran outta Texas air.

Think about that, boy. History has a funny little way of repeating itself.

Bullet the blue blog

  • They say everything's bigger in Texas – except penises and IQ test scores. Those two things tend to commensurate with Rhode Island.
  • Have you seen the commercials for these "Better Sex" videos? They show a young, attractive couple in soft lighting gently stroking each other, giggling and drinking wine. "Enhance your bedroom encounters," the commercials say. Evidently, these are instructional videos for a "hotter, more exciting love-life." Too little, too late. Nowadays, everybody has broadband Internet access. And the Internet is awash in sex videos. They feature all kinds of crazy, new ideas. I just closed a pop-up ad that asked whether I'd care to have virtual sex with a donkey for $1.99 per minute.
  • A positive thinker is somebody who discovers his bread has gone stale and thinks, "Oh, good. Now I don't have to toast it."
  • I think milk gallons should be shaped like a cow teat.
  • Everyone's complaining about the recent drought in the Southwest. This isn't a drought. A drought is when you turn the spigot and sand shoots into your mouth. It's when you hire a crazy African witch doctor to walk around your property with a Y-shaped stick prowling for the water table. We don't have a drought here. We have enough water to drink, to bathe and to refill our 60,000 gallon swimming pools. These are the same people who think a warm summer and a hurricane are proof-positive of global warming.
  • Post-modern art was created for all the aspiring artists out there who can't draw.
  • When you write, you bare your soul. You're metaphorically stripping naked and modeling yourself. This is why bloggers are so sensitive to criticism. When you show your lover your naked body, you don't want them to squint and say something like, "Eeeeesh. Gosh. Is that cellulite or did you just accidentally sit in a vat of oatmeal?" "Have you shown that blemish to your doctor yet?" "You call that a penis?"
  • Investing in the stock market is gambling, only this time, you're the House.
  • Women need to form a Better Boyfriend Bureau. It could work just like the Better Business Bureau. You post complaints. Others reference the Bureau before they date. And if you register a complaint, the boyfriend has the opportunity to negotiate with the filing party and resolve the conflict (usually by finally telling her once and for all why he stopped calling).
  • I think it's great that the sex roles are reversing. Women belong in the workplace. Men need to discover the joys of homemaking. I just hope to Christ we never have to start shaving our legs.


Willy Wonka and the ________ Factory

I never liked Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. To me, that movie reminds me of those flu-induced hallucinative dreams you have just before you wake up and puke. Too psychedelic. When I watch the original production, I look at Gene Wilder and think, "Dude, why do you have to be such a weirdo?" When I watch the recent remake starring Johnny Depp, I think, "Dude, why do you have to be so queer?" In both movies I Thank God those kids had chaperones.

Of course an entire world constructed of candy appeals to kids. But once you reach adulthood, you fantasize about a factory composed entirely of menu items from The Sizzler (the Ever-Lasting Onion Ring?). I think that fat kid (the one who got stuck in the tube) would have enjoyed either factory with equal rapture. If, however, it were Willy Wonka and the Vegetable Factory, the fat kid would have had Mom call him in sick that day. This is conjecture. But I'll just bet.

I wonder how many takers would have showed at Willy Wonka's Sausage Factory – I mean outside the Bay Area? I don't want to watch sausage being made unless the sausage factory is a front for a mafia-controlled body disposal shop. The Sopranos has one of those, by the way. If the guys the sausage factory were using for meat were evil, I'd enjoy it. Hell, I might even order myself an open-faced Reuben. Excuse me, good sir. I'll take a Tookie Williams on Rye with side of Milosevic soup. They could make it a combo deal and call it a Black Russian (Yeah, I know. He was actually a Yugoslavian Serb. Where were you critics when the page was blank?)

How about Willy Wonka and the Auto Factory – a two-hour film featuring The Man kicking union workers in the ass and out the door? GM could do creative consulting. I'll bet the Japs would laugh their asses off at that movie.


Random tidbits of Musingessence

  • Awhile ago, laptops exceeded desktop computer sales. When did computing become so important that we needed to make it portable? "Oh my God! I can't wait until I get home to update my resume in Word. Plus, I have to Photoshop a pecker into my buddy's mouth on this picture and then email it to all our friends. I hope Starbucks has a hotspot."
  • I think this would make a great slogan for a beer commercial: "Grab a 12-pack of (insert name brand here), because reality is always going to suck."
  • I'll never understand the passion for gardening. "You know, I just don't get enough yard work in pulling weeds, mowing grass and raking leaves. I need 200 square feet of delicate, needy plant life prone to the ills of drought, aphids, gophers and dog urine. That'll keep me busy."
  • I'm glad to know there's a pill out there to cure impotence. Now, how about inventing a pill that makes girls want to sleep with you in the first place?
  • Every time NASA launches a space shuttle, something falls off. This time it's a heat shield. Last time it was an O-ring. A couple missions ago, the Polish astronaut left his I-Pod on the dashboard and it fell out the window during stage-two firing. Some shit's always falling off the space shuttle. What the hell do they make space shuttles out of – Jenga cubes? A Mr. Potato Head has more structural integrity than a space shuttle. Maybe Mr. Potato Head should be an astronaut. We can send him up in a Mexican food cart. One small step for man, one giant set of lips and a goofy moustache for mankind.
  • Have you ever wondered whether a guy wearing a hat is bald? Do what I do. Stand next to him and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. If he doesn't remove his hat, stab him because he's a communist (disclaimer: don't actually stab him).
  • The essence of humor, in all of its forms, is to identify folly.
  • Good news: a federal appeals court has found that due to the Separation of Church and State, people who believe in God no longer have to pay income taxes.
  • Some people are really getting into body piercing. What I wonder is, if they tire of the fad and remove the hardware, will they whistle when they stand in the wind? I once knew a girl with so many vaginal piercings that, given a strong breeze and adequate musical training, one could play When the Saints Go Marching In on her cooter in A-flat Major.
  • I think "population control" would make a good euphemism for getting kicked in the junk. Speaking of which, I think we need to apply affirmative action to genital trauma in the movies. From now on, every time a guy takes a blow to the crotch, a woman gets a kick in the cooch. Fair is fair. I know I'd laugh my ass off at that, especially if the person got his/her foot caught in the gash. They'd have to hop around on one foot until the paramedics arrived with a shoehorn.


Sirius(-ly Sucks) Radio, part 3

Sirius still sucks, seriously. Yesterday I sent them a hotlink to my blog. Today they requested I photocopy the back of my radio and mail it to them, whereupon they'll send me my rebate check. Well, I've photocopied the back of something, alright. And it's in the mail, Sirius, along with a suggestion on where to kiss it!

Did you know Sirius has a Gay and Lesbian station? There's nothing wrong with that, I suppose, but you've got to be one committed homosexual to listen to a radio station dedicated to your sexual orientation! Most people listen to a station because it plays music they enjoy – not because there's a glory hole in the studio console.

Hold up. Don't call the ACLU yet. I'm not claiming gays are bad people. I love them -- especially that one fella, Ellen DeGeneres. Wonderful sense of humor! I love gays and stuff. In fact, I always root for the gay guy in the movie to win the fight. Follow me on this. Usually in the movies, the jerk antagonist gets a kick in the crotch or some kind of genital trauma. It's standard fare. (Attention actors: if you take a role as a bad guy in a movie, you'd better wear a cup to the shoot because your bulge is a bull's eye.) Anyway, wouldn't you like to see a gay anally assault the bad guy after kicking his ass instead? A kick to the groin doesn't teach you a lesson. But a good anal raping will learn ya.

Sirius streams its broadcasts over the Internet. If you have a computer and a hearing deficit, you can enjoy the streaming broadcast from your computer. The problem is, Sirius' streaming technology makes the Chia Pet look like a Pentium. It sucks. How badly? Do you remember signing onto AOL back in 1997 with your 14.4k modem? You know, back when it took a minute and a half for a naked lady image to scroll from her chin to her boobs (I used to make a sandwich. By the time I got back, the pic transmitted down to mid-bush or so). Anyway, that's what Sirius is like. They pipe that crap out at 34k per second. I've had bowel movements with more bandwidth! The first time I logged on, I thought 50-Cent was rappin' through a Puerto Rican girl's cooter. As it turns out, it was just Sirius crappy steaming.

Random Sirius trivia: Rumor has it, if you reverse the polarity on a Sirius radio, you can pick up the mutterings of Nazi soldiers' souls.

In sum, Sirius still sucks.

Go XM!


Sirius(-ly Sucks) Radio, part 2

Thanks for stopping by to read my week-long Sirius(-ly Sucks) tirade. New readers: don't forget to scroll down and read the original salvo.

First, I thought of a new slogan for Sirius(-ly Sucks):

Sirius Radio -- our satellite is operated by the chimp that the Russians shot into space, and our broadcasts reflect it! (He's also in charge of our Rebate Program).

Here's another slogan for Siruis(-ly Sucks):

Howard Stern – he has a face made for radio and a voice made for mime.

Sirius(-ly Sucks) is trying to bolster ratings by recruiting mega-talent Howard Stern. Howard immigrated to Sirius because his hour-long rants on studio live sex acts, lesbianism, innuendo and fart jokes were confined by the decency standards of the FCC. What tyrants they are, huh? It's not like Howard displayed a Nativity scene near a school or anything. Lighten up, FCC.

Before I go any further, I should admit I respect Howard Stern. Think what you please of his broadcasts. The guy speaks his mind. That distinguishes him from 95% of everybody. Well, that and his schnozzle.

Let me get this straight. Sirius can't cut me my 50-dollar rebate check, but they've got $100,000,000 per year for Howard Stern? Who's the finance officer at Sirius? He needs to submit urine to HR for testing. I say put Charlie Manson on the air. He's less offensive and he works for 22 cents per hour!

I don't know. 100 million dollars per year? That's Puffy money! I mean, lesbianism is fine, but I can only hear it discussed so many hours per day, and Lifetime for Lesbos covers that for me. Sirius doesn't realize that Howard's act is obsolete. Back in the 1980s, a radio voice describing naked coke-whore hotties kissing in the studio was choice. "Are you a lesbian? Are those real?" Howard was the Edward R. Murrow of porn. But nowadays, you can watch a six-pack of lesbians sandwich a farm animal on any of 100,000 webcams. Just type "lesbo" in your Google Bar and you're lightyears ahead of Howard on his best (worst?) day.

One-hundred million dollars? I'll make Sirius a deal. Send me my $50 rebate and I'll mike a high school gym locker room: same material, $99,999,950 cheaper. And as an added bonus, I'll simulate fart noises into the thing from time to time.

Go XM!


Sirius Sucks

My regular readers know me as a patient, mild-mannered soul who spreads a message of love, compassion and understanding through his weblog. Today I plan to deviate a bit. I'd like to publish a complaint against Sirius(-ly Sucks) Satellite Radio. I invite you to read my complaint. Contemplate it. Mull it over. Consider both sides objectively. Come to a fair, impartial judgement. Then send Sirius hate mail at once. Resolve to buy XM (should you be in the market for satellite radio) and tell everybody you know that Sirius(-ly Sucks) Satellite Radio is the love-child of Beelzebub and that guy, Simon, from American Idol.

Here's a verbatim copy of the letter I sent Sirius(-ly Sucks) on 9 January of this year. It'll bring you up to speed:

Please direct this complaint to someone who can do something about it.

I recently pre-registered my rebate via your website. Preparing to mail the form and copies of my purchase receipt to Sirius, I learned that I still must furnish copies of the original receipt code. Why on earth would that be?

I don't save packages. I don't have a warehouse on my residential property.

You're running a deceitful, fraudulent practice with this rebate scam. If I've preregistered, paid my subscription and hold a valid receipt of the radio I bought from you, why do you still need a UPC code? The goal of this runaround is to screw your customers out of 50 dollars. I know it. You know it.

And you and I aren't the ONLY ones who will know it if you fail to deliver my 50 dollars. The Better Business Bureau will know it, too. So will all my friends and family members. All the clients at my place of employment will know -- should the subject of Satellite radio come up. I'll encourage each of them to buy XM.

If my badmouthing your company and service to every consumer advocacy organization and person I know is worth the 50 bucks you're trying to defraud me, by all means ignore this message and don't send me my rebate.

Until I receive my 50 dollar rebate, I'll make good on the above. Count on it.

I don't want phone calls, form mails or "we're sorry but's..." I want the rebate you promised when I purchased the radio.


[Lightning Bug's Butt]

Gee, I feel better just reading that letter again. And I'm going to get me some more satisfaction right now. All next week, my readers can look forward to nightly posts bashing Sirius, it's shoddy business practices, crappy equipment and underwhelming website broadcasting.

So stop by every night next week. Tell your friends. And leave a comment if you'd like. I'd love to hear from you!


More random musings and whatnot

  • Preparedness: It's easier to shit a brick if you drink a bucket of cement first.
  • My hospital plays the Lullaby Melody over the PA system each time a child is born in the maternity ward. It's sweet. But I think they should play Kanye West's Gold Digger. "Eighteen years, eighteen years. She's got one of yo kids, got you for eighteen years..."
  • The mark of a sophisticated mind is skepticism. The mark of a simple mind is dismissal.
  • A mere 100 years ago, being a pilot meant owning a big balloon and a large fan. I'll bet blimp pilots didn't get nearly as much cooter as today's do. Just imagine being an airline mechanic. Your tool kit consisted of duct tape an a bicycle pump!
  • You know that comedian, Carrot Top? Do you ever wonder whether he's a Carrot Bottom, too? Thoughts like these prevent me from passing psychological testing.
  • Who moves to Alaska (unless they're dodging a subpoena)? "You know, I want to freeze my balls off this summer, but I still want it to be annoyingly bright 24 hours per day for 3 months. And my neighborhood just doesn't have enough wolverines. I'd sure love to wake up each morning and wrestle one of those cute little bastards to get my trash can back."
  • Do you think God requested a paternity test?
  • George Bush has tapped Congress to write a law requiring Americans to grab their balls while reciting the Pledge instead of that "faggy, hand-over-the-heart stuff." I knew I voted for this guy for a reason!
  • I'm skeptical of criticism over the Iraq war and about American mistreatment of POWs. The way I see it, 60 years ago we nuked – NUKED – two Japanese cities full of women, children, schools, factories and Starbucks cafes because four years prior, they sank a couple of our boats. That's the kind of country we were just 60 years ago! As far as POWs, John McCain sustained himself on a steady diet of vermin and bitch-slaps for 6 years. Saddam Hussein angrily points his manicured, Cheetos-stained(!) finger at the Judge. And doesn't Saddam look sharp in that Armani suit? The Queer-Eye guys must love watching his trial!
  • You can't say we're not making progress. A generation ago, you had to wait until after marriage to have sex with a girl. Nowadays, you have to wait until after dinner. I'll bet in a few years, cooter will come in vending machines. Yay!
  • Why don't we use genetic engineering to mix weeds with flowers. You'd create a new species of plant life with gumption and beauty. No more planting flowers and no more pulling weeds. The whole process would take care of itself. You'd have 10-foot petunias in the backyard. You could plant them in cement and water them with gasoline and battery acid. No matter, they'll still look great come summertime!
  • Why is it so easy to take a nap and so hard to fall asleep for the night? I can take a nap on a wrecking ball crashing through a dynamite factory. But falling asleep at night is impossible. I pop some Nyquil, wrap tinfoil around my head, turn the TV to PBS... nothing helps.
  • Most people know the household remedy for a black eye is applying a frozen steak on it. But few know the remedy for jock itch is warm mashed potatoes on the bean bag.
  • The habanero pepper is the plutonium of the vegetable world.
  • Some days I feel better than others. I'm always willing to start up my car, but every once in a while I'm tempted to leave the garage door closed.