This site is a testament to not only my life but to the insanity of society. Dive into Psycho Carnival and you'll find tragicomic personal stories, wild yet honest rants, a little depravity, videos and a buttload of other goodies.

This site also contains adult like humor and ideas that could make you think. Consider yourself warned!

Thursday, May 3, 2012

True Tales of Perfectly Normal Kelly

Disclaimer:  The following stories should be read as if they were written by someone completely sane, always politically correct and sensitive of others' feelings.  They, most importantly, were written by somebody with a sense of humor.  Scared?  Don't be!  I'm here to hold your hand as you take this special journey with me on my latest incidents of pure, wholesome normalcy.  I promise not to give you that special smile, while we walk, that says 'I won't bash your head in with this bronze statue of Zues fucking a dolphin while the dolphin is porking a young handjob-maiden', I have behind my back, when you turn head away, next.  You don't know how often you come across that common stylish item in those fancy antique stores, worldwide.  

 I farted.

But less importantly, I was taking my daily walk at the local park other day.  It was a beautiful day, full of sun and a plethora of blooming trees and there was no one there to possibly bother me.  Sure, I'm certainly a social butterfly that desperately needs adulation and continuous attention until I'm nauseous of the sticky slobbers of a googly-eyed stalker smooching on my ass because the stalker glorifies me... but sometimes, I just need some alone time.  Like about 80% of the time.

Actually... I don't know what these guys are and what they're thinking.  My  ambition to find out where they come from and so on has been replaced by sudden feelings of ambivalence.  Like, I don't know whether to bash this one dude's head in with a gargantuan frozen elephant turd or become inspired and secure, knowing that the human race will come together one day, not give a shit about material possessions and place honesty and understanding at the top of their priorities.   Again, I farted.

Note:  Googly-eyed fish will target and viciously attack your taint unless you have properly cleansed it to the point where it no longer carries the bouquet of aromas made up of shit, piss or pork.  Because, you know they say humans smell like pigs or whatever... especially while they're burning.  Look it up if you want to debate me about this most interesting of subjects while I busy myself with not being the least bit sarcastic.

Join Facebook!  See the attention craving, crack-like addicts who won't stop commenting about that same boring shit, day after day!  Watch people watch other people because they hear they are celebrities and that means something ridiculously important!  Ya ever see a dumbass follow a trend to be more popular?  Ya ever see a monkey picking a nit off another monkey in a zoo or while you're out on safari?  Ya ever witness the increasing lack of creativity and open mindedness of anyone or mass of "anyones?"  :)   People remind me of that stuff and more.  Think about it.  And yes, I already know why they, the monkeys, pick the nits.  But think about redundancy, for one thing.  Jesus Christ in a snack pudding offering soul-saving bargains!  Just think!

As I was taking my daily walk in the beautiful park, I cut a fart (go figure, huh?) and I squirt o' wee bit of shit in my underwear, of course.  I don't care.  As long as it's not running down my legs and causing a pond of chocolate delight around my feet, I continue onward to the bathroom.

I go in, clean the little bit of poop juice in my underwear, wipe the stuff from my asshole, place a small wad of toilet paper between the spots in the soiled fabric and my buttocks and when I get myself together again, shorts pulled up and so on, I wash my hands, thoroughly, go out the door and am automatically confronted with a large, six and a half foot tall guy, walking toward me, only a few feet away.  He's wearing about a 5X sized purple shirt, walking towards me like a zombie, arms stretched out, forward direction.

No kidding about any of this.

He makes sounds with his mouth.  I'm dazed by this sight, this giant monstrosity of flesh and insanity and my semi-severe anxiety disorder kicks in overdrive.  Momentarily, I cannot move.

It sounds like he's saying, "Arburgagog Goalpostical Blarrrrrrrgh!"  But I'm not sure.  I was frightened and in shock.  I just know he wasn't speaking English.  I also felt shit start to rumble in my colon again, threatening to erupt from ye ol' blow hole.  In other more sensitive wording. I figured I was about to have a repeat performance of the other fiasco I just endured.  This sudden attack, that would have probably scared the shit out of most anyone besides me, made my head spin, wondering what carnival freak show I suddenly happened upon.

 I saw a shirt this other day.  He might has well as worn this shirt:

I have since learned, by actually being curious enough to find out what Doma Arigato means, that one of it's meanings come from the language of the Japanese.  Domo Argato translates, in English as: Thank you very much. In his case, I suppose it could also mean "Thank you very much for giving me the opportunity of giving you a heart attack and instant bowel movement."

I quickly came to my senses, before he was a foot away and darted out the park bathroom door entrance.  While walking, quickly, on my pained feet and scrambling away as if I was being chased by Bigfoot's deranged uncle, I realized four things.  One, I was successful in commanding my buttocks to keep in any fecal matter.  Two, I think the boy/man was autistic and had a "solid wall of retard" for a body.  Shhh... My sensitivity and naturally instilled political correctness is leaking out again.  And three, about as most importantly, his caretaker or mother or whoever he was with, obviously, was a middle aged, unconcerned person who saw what occurred and sat on a bench seeming not to give a shit about anything.  That could be considered a mistake if the mentally-challenged behemoth was going towards somebody with violent tendencies who didn't scamper away, trying desperately to hold his gravy shits back.  Four, I hadn't taken my Valium that day, yet.

I'm thinking about making a custom made shirt for myself.  It will read:  I'm a sufferer from depression and anxiety disorders.  Please refrain from allowing your own craziness and your human keeping responsibilities "entities" (like mentally retarded youngsters and unbalanced young men and women) and whiny brats to come within a solid yard from me or I will freeze up and/or go on a killing spree.  Thanks!

That might be a little too long and I know most people generally have a low attention span.  I might just go with:  Fuck off!  You people bother me! 

I'm okay with stress when it's not of the sudden shocking kind.  For instance, the other night, my wife and I were riding home in a gusty-as-hell, lightening filled, bucket filling kind of thunderstorm the other night.  I was driving.  I knew I wouldn't panic because I could see, before getting back out onto the interstate highway for the 30 mile trek back home, it was going to be a doozy.  Instead, I calmly drove the truck home, hands firmly and courageously stable on the steering wheel and slowing moved around the ponds of water on the sides of the roads.

As long as I know what's coming, I'm alright.

Yesterday, we had another thunderstorm.  It knocked the electricity out for four hours.  I took a nap in the middle of the thunderstorm.  They had tornado "watches" for several neighboring counties on the TV before I took my nap.  Note:  Four weeks ago, we had a dozen tornadoes ravage our state and a couple nearby states.  I wrote a blog post about it.  When I got up, it was starting to get dark.  I lit a couple candles to see the toilet, furniture that I could stub my toe on and so on.  Then I put on some sweat pants and looked out on the balcony.  Even though it was getting dark, it was beginning to hail quarter sized hailstones, along with 60 mph wind gusts and rain.  And about an hour later the electricity came back on.

Quarter sized hail is nothing for me.  I lived during the "148 tornado and baseball-sized hail stone incident" in 1974.  There was a tornado in our back yard at one point.  I didn't have anxiety disorder back then so I quickly ran to the window, against my screaming parent's will, to check out the very real tornado.  A couple hours later, my younger sister and I started to go outside and collect hailstones like Easter eggs, from the grass, putting them in our Playmate coolers to later store them in the freezer.  Of course, finding no practical usage for them, we threw them back out on the ground after a week.

In hindsight, I should have kept them, went up the big tree in the yard and threw them at cars that passed by our house.  Oh well.

Even though it's fascinating to watch hail, quarter-sized or larger, come down for some people and even me, when I'm in the mood, I am more concerned about my vehicles.  I was hoping it wouldn't damage my truck this time.  Not only is that truck a "deer magnet", but I was thinking that the hailstones might dent the body or crack the glass.

Other than this stuff going on, including a non working AC unit in 87 degree weather and other smaller problems, things seem to be getting better for me.

That's all I got for now.  Have a great weekend!  I'm sure I'll stop by your blog, soon, to offer you a cordial comment full that's sure to be chock full of whimsy and wit.  Beats being chock full of shit, any day of the week, right?  Later!   


The Angry Lurker said...

"Fuck Off! You people bother me!", I'd wear that!

Pickleope said...

There were more tangents in that story than an algebra class (I just really wanted to say that, I actually like your tale of hail and hershey squirts).
Also, a lot of head bashing in this post. But how did you know I have bronze statue of Zues fucking a dolphin while the dolphin is porking a young handjob-maiden in my front yard?
Glad that aside from the occasional poo spray incident, that things are going alright with you.

Kelly said...

The Angry Lurker- It would look great on you. And it would be the perfect Christmas gift, too.

Kelly said...

Pickleope- So glad you enjoyed the hershey squirts, tangents and tale of hail. Since it is well known that you are an appreciator of great and tasteful art, I just figured you had that bestiality statue.

Have a great weekend!

Dixie said...

In the spirit of your heartwarming 'tail' I rushed to the bathroom. Oh yes! After reading this incredible maze it was important that I squeeze out a bit o' sanity myself.

I don't like being 'normal' as it causes my friends to want to hang around, more. They nit-pick appointments and it drives me crazy. No, well, I don't really drive much anymore. Instead I love to fumble around in my very spacious yard. Good thing, cause it's a longer walk to the closest park.

Purple is nice, 5x not so nice. Though I could use the material to make a needed yard umbrella. "Arigato" for that, Kelly. While reading about it I held my breathe wondering if you survived!

So, now, back to that 80% you love so much. I myself have walls to speak with.

Kelly said...

Dixie- Glad you made it to the party. I hope you had a nice time squeezing out the sanity. Sanity and normalcy are overrated, anyway.

Yeah, friends who think you're normal all the time wanna try their luck, always believing you'll never go off on them like a dynamite filled outhouse with a toilet full of chocolate pudding pops. I'm with you when you say it's for the better of all, if they just stay the heck away when you need that cherished alone time. :)

You could have used the material ofthat three hundred pound teenager's shirt to create 3 tee-pees. Glad I made it out alive, aye? Me, too. Be careful with those walls. Sometimes they talk back!

Have a great weekend!

bazza said...

Kezza, this post has been an uninhibited stream-of-consciousness. After reading it and laughing (not out loud; I don't want them to come and take me away!) I'm not really sure what it's about.
Click here for Bazza’s Blog ‘To Discover Ice’

billy pilgrim said...

very educational. i'm not going to take my taint for granted anymore. i'll be washing it very gently and anointing it with the best oil i can find.

Kelly said...

Hello Bazza- Yes, one thing leads recklessly into another in my crazed mind. Glad you laughed while reading and farting during this fine, upstanding post. I'm not sure what it's all about, either. Something about retarded giants throwing hailstones, I think.

Have a grand ol' weekend! Remember: Googly Eyes are watching you.

Kelly said...

billy pilgrim- Good idea about the oil but...A good rule of thumb is: To take your taint outside. Coat it thoroughly with honey. Wait for killer bees. Then it's orgasmic fun for one and all.

Anonymous said...

The rather lovely Sir Tom Eagerly says:
I'm happy to learn that you are perfectly normal Kelly, my friend.
You're hardly completely round the twist at all old boy.
Nurse! He's out of bed again!

klahanie said...

Howdy Kelly old buddy, old pal n'stuff. I know how Eagerly you waited for Eagerly to leave one of his witty comments and how do I follow up his turds, or your turds, within my own turds of wisdom. In other turds, I shall now ramble on in my own incoherent, disjointed way and ye shall be dazzled, amazed and hey at this point, I bestow upon thine good self, a smiley face :)
Now then, a thoughtful, wise and hilarious article submitted by your kind and noble self. What the hail am I talking about, you may well ask. I'm talking about that there are folks out there who would want you to upload photos of your shit stained underwear. In fart, in fact, I'm sure you could get a bidding war on 'pBay' for your stylishly soiled undies.
And to, yes you, our social farter by, deserve all the adulation and joyous praise that's heaped upon you and your underwear. Sing, dance, make love to zombies and keep us duly posted on your must read profile updates on both our favourite social notworking site, Fartbook, or Farcebook, or Fakebook, or FaecesBook or even Facebook! :)
Thank you for one of your perfectly normal articles. My life just got a whole lot better!
Take good care and I'm glad to see you posting a bit more.
And with a cheek clapping, thunderous fart, I shall now get the heck outta' here....

Kelly said...

The Rather mean Lovely n' Stuff Sir Tom Eagerly- You're happy. I'm so dosh durned delighted that I just found out i was perfectly normal, I had to strip down to my birthday suit and fuck one of the American Flagpoles across the street. seriously, our neighbor has a dozen 12 foot high flagpole, with flags) in his yard.

Uh-oh... since you called the nurse, they're starting to catch up with me on the streets of merry olde England and get ready to let me in. The codewords for my entrance will be A SPOILED TAINT SOMETIMES LEAKS GREEN TAINT TEA. I'm typing this in a distressful situation so I must

Kelly said...

Hey Gary, old buddy and catcher of butterflies. Ooops, ya got me. I guess it';s the padded cell for me then. :) Look, a smiley face just naturally make a person's day that much brighter. Now if I were a doctor, and, of course, I happen to be an MD, I would say you desperately need to relieve a large potion of fart in your bowels. No more turds of your said medical fart condition will be released to the public. You have Facebook's and my own guarantee nothing will be mentioned on your status or my own.

But being serious for a moment, I really oh-so-happy I made your last minutes few minutes a seeming lifetime of pure joy. What can I say? I'm damn good I know it. Why else would I have a harem of booby blessed babes sucking upon my flagpole, simultaneously?

Really though, I'm trying to post a bit more since personal problems have been solved for the moment. My battle now has to do with having one AC until the bad one is fixed and delivered Monday. It's bad on a person's health to live in about 85-87 degree F temperatures. Kinda make you want to get out more, in cooler areas. So from Friday until Monday, we'll be cooking a bit. Can you hear me over your cheek clapping, thunderous fart? FWWWAAAAPPP! Here's a fart in a jar for ya. feel free to release the contents on somebody, besides me, that annoy you. Turd clouds ahoy, Gary! :)

THE SNEE said...

Hi Kelly,

WoW! Indiana Spring is clearly blowing your mind! Or, is it all the severe thunderstorms and tornado threats that are whipping your brain around? Thank you for the whirlwind tour. I am now left to contemplate the meaning of it all:) I'm sincerely glad that life is giving you a small break from aggravation. You're a really good person, and very kind to me and my blog silliness. I Tain't kidding!

Static said...

First: LOL! Hey, I think we could all use some alone time..80+ % of the time. At least the big mentally challenged guy didn't corner ya and wet his finger and stick it in yer butthole. That would've been awkward.

Kelly said...

It seems like the constant THUNDERSTORMS are blowing my mind and every else's. If we weren't being cooked with having no real AC in the apartment and it was 87 degrees outside (long story) my brain would not resemble one slice of bacon right about now. Luckily, though, the electrician came and now we have a cool apartment again. Hooray! That... was the last of my problems I described in this post. I thank you for the 'good person' compliment. I think of you the same way and as a good friend. Taint kidding. ;) And take care, Rebecca!

Kelly said...

Yeah, the few, the proud, can admit to wanting a little R&R from the Human Race. The longer, sometimes, the better. lol. It's a relief and just great the Big Retarded Man did not give me a Wet Willy up into butthole. That would make me sing the blues all day long.

Static said...

Hehehee...yer. Dat wood b gross. =P

On a more serious note, I think it's good to have alone time. It gives us that much needed R&R and some fresh perspectives about ourselves, the world we live in, the people around us, and fuck if I don't want to stay in my man cave forever! Lol kidding. I wouldn't be able to deal with certain kinds of people without that much needed "alone time" however! The mentally challenged are usually sweet though. But it can be a shock to the system if you are not expecting them. :)

Related Posts with Thumbnails

  © Blogger template ProBlogger Template by 2008

Back to TOP