Joe Cuts His Losses (Or Would That Be... His Leeches?)

I've never been one for making New Years' resolutions.  I don't believe you should make them.  Very few people are successful at meeting this big, grandiose goal that they've substantially hyped up in their heads, at times, that when the goal fails, they either, if they got any stamina of mind in their selves- they might get back up again to try make the goal happen or more often than not- they just quit trying.  If you don't have this super willpower and forward thinking frame of mind, it just isn't happening.  Then you feel like crap for awhile, maybe.

I've been successful at doing what I set out to do a number of times.  Quitting smoking was one of those things.  I might have one or two with a family member, once every six months, but really, it's no longer a habit or desire.  Every so often, when I see somebody with me, normally a family member smoking, I might have one.

In my defense, I don't buy cigs and I don't get to see these family members often.

Oh, for Christ sakes!  I'm going crazy with guilt. AAAAAHHHH!

Must be that dreaded Catholic upbringing.  That's what my friend, Steve, suggested about me once.  LOL.  He's Catholic, too and I think he might have fun with that, too.

I also don't go to church and I enjoy eating cereal while watching animal porn.  I think I saw "Kellogg's Corn Pops" coming out of a monkey penis, while watching a DVD, while it stuck it's dirty dingus in the nostril of a buffalo.  Oh, the shame!  Of course, the final result is a bunch of sticky tissues in your hand.  More shame.

I also don't like to see these fucking positive affirmation images all over the place on the net and in Facebook, in particular.  You can't solve your problems, instantaneously, or become joyful and content by seeing one of these things.  If I would ever feel like I've been cured of all or some of my problems or negative feelings by being a completely sold customer on whatever nilly willy images and words I see, I'd think myself to be a drooling moron with ticks and spiders in his pants.

Then I'd have a career in show business!  :)

Gosh, I feel better already!

Please, for the love of all that feel they must have pouty lips, get realistic and and come back to reality for a visit.  Everyone's insipid positive affirmation images on Facebook give me the runny shits.

But I was watching a news TV program, this morning and these two advisers, that had fields in psychology, were offering this advice about resolutions some people make every beginning of a new year:

1- Make your resolutions proceed in small steps.  For example, set your goal to be accomplished in two weeks.  If you get past the two week or two day or any other short maker of time, add more time to the resolution.

2- If you're overeating or overdoing anything, do what ever is giving you pleasure but do it in increasingly smaller increments.  For example, instead of eating a horse trough's worth of fatty barbecue ribs, today, trying eating a meal that can be fit on a plate and then continue decreasing the amount of food or changing over to something with lighter calories.  Then, go from there.

They said more but I can't remember the rest.  Maybe if you insert your genitals in a old wooden mouse trap and the bar comes down hard, with a loud crack, it will magically come to me.  I'm not asking for much, I believe.

Wait a minute...  Oh yeah... #3-  Forgive yourself if you fail with meeting a goal, regarding your resolution- but realize the bigger failure is to not try again.

Right now, I'm going to change the subject.  I'm boring you.  I can tell.  You're doing the droopy head thing you're doing. :)  Yep.

Here's a positive affirmation pic to pep you up:

I swear I don't know what a 'Mexican Microwave' is.  Is that anything like a monkey when he spurts Kellogg's Corn Pops from his penis???

Let's say I've had a conversation with a guy named Joe.  Joe is a guy who seems well adjusted and well meaning.  He has a great sense of humor.  And he's real.  Yes.  He is a real Joe.  His cup runneth over with Joe, even at this moment. Imagine that!

Let's say he's just really real.

We got together at a fast food joint and talked for an hour.  Joe's a friend that seems to listen.  And he's not very judgmental or an annoying constant advice giver that has a degree in making assumptions (unless it's asked for... the advice that is) unless he's talking about self-serving, wealthy political groups.  With these assholes, he's quite judgmental.

Joe said he has been getting so much frustration, verbal abuse and out of control anxiety from a certain relative for years. Ever since a certain tragedy, involving Joe's mother, is concerned, Joe's father's mental state has gotten, admittedly worse, in the last seven years, due to his Dementia and a series of possible mini strokes, but he also suffers from depression.  He waves away help with that last one, of course. All of this is unfortunate and for a long time, Joe, his sister and his cousin would do anything for him, almost.  Instead of seeking help or trying, just a little, to keep his verbally abusive and erratic behavior in check, Joe's father, he explained, just lets go at whoever is near him, unleashing all of his anger and bitterness at those closest to him.

He does it to complete strangers- anywhere.

Joe's father was leaving candles burning at the place for where Joe's mother and father were living, after his mother had passed.  He also left on, for hours, the oven and stove, lights in the rooms, electrical things one would turn off in an acceptable amount of time and more.

Btw, Joe also mentioned his father was finally put in an assisted living place and finally-FINALLY, AFTER YEARS HAD GONE BY- Joe's dad had his car keys taken away due to wrecking his car into someone.  He had wrecked into a guardrail a year before.  Luckily, the woman in the other car, that I mentioned and Joe's father weren't hurt in the incident but it was the final thing that got his driver's license taken away.  It wasn't the fact that five doctors said Joe's father shouldn't be driving.  It wasn't the fact that he went walking through a blizzard across the hills and valleys, alone, for a couple miles, to have a big mug of beer at a bar to wash down his many medications, either.  Any of this could have killed him and then there was more he wanted to say but I cut him off, at one point and I said, sprightly, "Always look on the bright side of life, dude."

Of course, that quick bit of advice picked him right on up.  Whoopee!

Now, Joe said, his father doesn't try to make real friends where he lives.  He blames the kids for everything. Talks about dying whenever he wants attention.  Talks about being betrayed.  This, Joe pointed out, wasn't oozing out of his Dad's pores just because he suffered from Dementia or mini strokes.  He had been verbally abusive, sometimes physically abusive, since Joe was a kid.  Now it was a hundred times worse, he noted.  He wasn't grateful for all the doctor visits we had to take him to or the visits where we would take him out to eat.  Just about anything wouldn't please him.  And Joe says, that sometimes, you just have to cut your emotional leeches.... or losses (if you can call them that). Especially when they make you stutter.

Joe stutters when he's in anxiety-induced situations or if he thinks about his father or grandmother too much.  Joe said his grandmother could suck the goodwill, happiness and patience out of you, too. He told me that, even though I could see that was obvious, from his pale, defeated appearance, when he spoke of his father or grandmother. And now, he said, his stuttering words come popping out of his mouth whenever he's in any kind of tense situation.  And don't get him started on his insane cat that eats paper, cardboard, meows like a demon and chases imaginary enemies.  Joe won't finish his grilled burrito.  He thought his new cat might be the devil, he jested and left that subject alone.  He stuttered a bit, though, and some wilted lettuce slipped out of his mouth.

He shook his head.  Years of trying to please and make negative people content had nearly drained him dry. Though, he said, often enough, that he had told his father about what his father was directly doing to him.  All that Joe's father knew was what was bothering himself.  He didn't ask about Joe's many maladies, recent test results or how things were going, in general, on his end.

I told him, "Yep.  When those people you are closest to, know what they're doing and show that they don't give a flying fuck about your good mental health, it's time to be guilt free and go forward.  Let the negative parasites dwell in their own muck.  You tell them, 'I need a nice big break from you, apathetic fucker.'

Then I told Joe I was kidding on that last part but it made him laugh, anyway.  Want to know a secret?  I was serious on that last bit.  :)  Joe badly needed some laughs.  Any kind of joy, actually, was what he was lacking. Other things were bothering him, too, he said, but he thought that as long as he had the will to push forward and not get stuck in the muck, he would be fine again.

Being stuck in the muck, physically or emotionally, really sucks.

Joe said he would like to think of the way his father used to be and reflect on that.  For a long time, he admired his father and respected him.  He said he still does, especially when he isn't around him these days, for the most part.  Funny how that works, I thought.  Or not.

Then he got a phone call, at the place we were eating.  Joe took out his cell phone and asked, "Yes?"

It turned to be his father, wishing him a happy new year, Joe later revealed and they had talked for a few minutes, without a verbal confrontation.  A small and pleasant miracle.  Joe was instilled with happiness once more.  Joe didn't stutter for the entire night.  Towards the end of the evening, he did say he was going to keep certain people away, at arm's length for his own well being, for the good of his own mental health. at least for a lengthy period of time.  He said, after all, he wasn't a complete or final quitter- on anyone or anything.  He advised his sister (and in a roundabout way, his cousin) to do the same when it came to his father and taking breaks from him or others.  He upsets them, too, but at different levels.

Joe pointed out that his anti-depressant medication, anti-anxiety medication and those wonderful, supposedly uplifting, stupid, fucking positive affirmation pics and words aren't miracle workers.  I nodded my head, in agreement and then replied, "You've got that right."

Joe suddenly stood up and shouted, "Happy New Year!" to everyone at the restaurant and in the blogging world and wished everyone a peaceful year, ahead.

I looked back and gave everyone the finger when Joe finished with his sickeningly sweet gesture of good will.  My New Year's resolution, this year, is to be really nicer to people.*

*wink

Just kidding.  HAPPY NEW YEAR!  Take care.

Taking It Easy

My wife and I took a drive to the park and had a nice relaxing time, recently.  We needed a break.

Shelter house at Versailles State Park

Creek

Dam

Where my mom, dad, sister and our friends and relatives would camp.  Mostly, it was just the four of us (sister,mom,dad and I) that would stay overnight when we were kids and teenagers.   We slept in this heavy canvas tent.  Sometimes ten of us could fit in there if we positioned ourselves just right. We would sit around the campfire, tell crazy, raunchy and entertaining stories and made the most noise in the park, out of all the guests, camping in the campground .  The park rangers would tell us to quiet down a couple times while we were there but they were nice about it.  We had a great time at site 116.  There would be times when there were a dozen and a half of us, laughing and frequently enjoying ourselves with adult beverages and fun conversations.  :)      

This is the red wooden bridge from the inside as we drove.  It goes between the town and the park.  Look... there is a light at the end of the tunnel!

Adventures While Camping at The Gorge (Part Two)

To read the first part of this series click here.

After we helped each other set up our tents, we were finally able to relax. You've got to remember: We're a couple of middle-aged, overweight men who if either of us had to do a push-up, there's a ninety percent chance we would snap our arms in half and shit our pants, simultaneously.

I say that with pride as I scratch my man nuggets.

Of course, each of us had cushioned air mattresses with battery operated air pumps. Too old to sleep on a floor. Too old and out of shape to manually blow up an air mattress. Unlike the old days, when we were in our twenties, we wouldn't have been able to survive the night in the present, lying directly on the floor of a tent.

When we were in our twenties, we would hike up these insane mountains, carrying heavy backpacks and later sleep on the ground at night, on the edge of cliffs.

After the tiresome event of setting up camp, unloading our stuff from the truck and carrying this or that 3000 lb object here or there, we rewarded ourselves by sitting in fold up chairs, feeling as used up as a toothless crack ho named Lameeshqua.

I was so flippin' beat, I couldn't pour myself a drink. We did manage to build a fire, that first night, if I recall. We sat before that fire, staring into the flames, chatting about the The Firebucket Man. You'll have to read Part One of this story in order to know who I'm talking about.

We both turned in for the night, going into our tents. Then sometime in the middle of the night, I have a surreal experience in the dark of my tent. I feel like I'm going bat shit crazy. I feel like someone is attacking me inside my tent. I don't know if I'm dreaming this or half dreaming this or what. My sister suffers from night terrors but to my knowledge, I don't remember ever having an incident of that type.

My friend, Steve, said he awoke from this terrible guttural, growling noise emanating from my tent sometime that night. Now Steve is a very sound sleeper. He lives in an apartment near the railroad tracks in the busiest part of town and he can sleep through pretty much anything. Sirens going off. Fireworks. You name it. So when he says that I woke him up, that's significant news.

He thought maybe there was a bear and a dog fighting outside over food. My friend was desperately trying to remember if we had left any food outside, due to carelessness and utter exhaustion.

Every few seconds, I would let out a shriek in the previous calm of the night. He said he heard noises he couldn't describe coming from my tent and it was causing him major concern. At one point, he slowly unzipped his tent window and saw the bottom portion of my tent bucking around, like I was kicking it. I do remember kicking at my imagined attacker and punching at it's body.

Steve said he didn't know whether to go out of his tent and ask if I was alright or perform an exorcism.

Fearing that I would stab him in the chest, if he tried unzipping my tent door, with the Bowie knife I had brought with me, Steve stayed away. All of the commotion was apparently that bad.

The next morning, I was groggy and my throat was hoarse (I guess from all the noises I had made). My friend told me what happened throughout the night and I told him I thought maybe I was dreaming or that I had a panic attack of some kind. I offered to him the fact that I'm not a big fan of being in complete darkness. That may have instigated a chain of reactions in me that night but I'm not really sure what it was. Maybe it was Steve's infamous god-awful snoring that can be heard from two towns away that made me go mad. It's still a mystery.

The following nights, I doubled up on my prescription Valium to help me sleep and to help defeat the ear-bleeding decibels of snoring coming from Steve's tent. It worked. No more bear/dog/Satanic noises came from me, according to Steve. No more "dreams", either, other than a few boring ones involving a toothless crack ho and a Pee Wee Herman bobble-head. You know... the usual.

The following days we enjoyed moments of serenity as we walked on some trails and over and under a few natural sandstone bridges. There were spots along the trails where the views of Red River Gorge could truly invigorate your soul.

At one point, we saw this lizard with a chopped off tail, sitting on a trail sign, and we, in our drunken state, competed with each other in seeing how good of a close up shot we could take with our cameras. Each shot, we got increasingly closer and closer. The lizard thought we were probably nuts. Amazingly, he didn't move the whole time. After twenty minutes or so of this nonsense, we finally walked the trail to Gray's Arch. Likely, much to the lizard's relief.

Here are some pics of plants, mushrooms, trees and berries. None of which were ingested. Especially, the trees. They're kind of hard to swallow.

There were trails that had a shitload of steps to travel up and down. Though they provided a challenge, they were worth the scenic viewpoints we were lucky to be immersed in.

This year, there had been a number of incidents where bears had come into the campsites and were freaking people out, which is understandable. A few people have been attacked by bears, in the past, at The Gorge. The area is also famous for people falling off the cliffs along the trails. Here's one memorial, out of a dozen or so, dedicated to those who have died while hiking the high altitude trails. Ya gotta be careful, folks! Tee hee.

Every so often, you'll encounter signs like these at the beginning or along the trails.

Enlarge and read the cautionary print for a chuckle.

On the trail leading to Half Moon Arch, we met a guy with two dogs that had little red "saddles" on their backs. Each "doggie backpack" had two big pockets. My friend asked the pet owner what the dogs were carrying. The guy said, without missing a beat, "Bottled water and their poop."

This dude was so conscientious about his dogs leaving poop on these rough trails, hardly walked paths, that he had his dogs carry their own shit with them wherever they went. I thought that was particularly nice and thoughtful of him. Especially the part where he had his dogs packing and lugging his bottled water for him, as well.*

*snicker

And hey, at least they weren't carrying his shit.

We met a lot of interesting folks during our stay at The Gorge. Tomorrow, I will offer up the 3rd installment to this adventure. In this next episode, you will learn how to cook a deer over an open fire and you'll encounter other odd and wonderful sights along the way. See you there!

A Damn Breaky-Doodle-Dandy

Man. Does anyone still remember me? Is anyone out there? Anyone give a flying fucka-roonie? Don't blame ya if ya don't. Hell, I've stayed away so long from BlogLand (like that itchy anal wart you just can't reach with the ointment) that it wouldn't surprise me if you consider me some sort of pariah. Besides, I well know there's more important shit to give a fuck about these days.

Like...

*The economy

*Lack of jobs

*Wars, protests and manipulation by the super wealthy

*and this guy

Trouble is, is that there are so many of these Republican cartoon characters to choose from, laugh at or cringe towards, it's hard to decide who to ignore the most and cast off as pure, obvious dipshits. They say ol' Ricky Boy is no longer a serious contender for the presidential race of 2012 , but really, it wouldn't surprise me that much of America would embrace him. We are, for the most part, a nation of retards who can't figure out what is actually good for us and we seem to only give our attention to those who speak in broad, uncomplicated, monosyllabic verbal strokes and dramatic gestures. We simply can't be bothered to handle any more than that.

Speaking of strokes and Republican cartoon characters...

... like the insatiable, barely coherent Michele Bachmann...

I don't quite know where I was going with this but somehow it all turned into a wacky political thing-a-ma-jig.

I think what I wanted to say, but not apologize for, was that the break I took from Blogland has benefited my roller coaster state of mind. I was finding myself torn the whole time during the break because, I, for the most part, neglected my old blog buddies by not communicating or visiting their blogs. I hated that. But at the same time, I was really enjoying the summer. I have a lot of adventures and meaningful stories to share and hopefully, I will, in the near future.

Anyway, I'm not going to go into one of those tired old speeches that I and other bloggers make/have made when they've taken a long blog break. My part in the whole scheme of things is trivial and I feel that my absence isn't a big deal- except that part where I've truly missed you guys. I hope you're all doing well.

Summer Fun Action

What have I been up to?

Enjoying the summer, goddamn it! After 6 months of a harsh, excruciatingly long winter, summer has finally arrived and instead of being bound or limited in what can be done during the past heavy bouts of ice, snow and all that groovy shit, I'm unshackled, free, even, my amigos, to get out and enjoy. My past problems before kept me from posting regularly. Ironically, things are going so well, nowadays, I've been spending most of my time away from the drudgery of lame, indoor activity.

Well, I do make time for cat fisting and fixing a good cup of coffee. That will perk you up. You shouldn't deny yourself the simple things in life, you know.

In any case, I wholeheartedly encourage everyone reading this to get outside right now and go crazy this summer. Put a bundle of firecrackers in your pants, light 'em up and sing "Yank Me Doodle Dandy" till the neighbors call the authorities on you.

Of course, you gals may say, "But Kelly, I wish not to harshly burn my womanly baloney flaps and my cuddly clitoris."

Do it anyway, damn it! Get crackin'! And poppin'! Add some spice and spark to your life! Show 'em who's boss!

You dudes, on the other hand, might point out, "But what about the charred remains of my crispy, deflated testes and my seriously messed up smoking ballsack?"

Oh, boo hoo. Don't be such a crybaby! Put a dab of sunburn cream on your junk and it will all be swell. Take it from the good Dr. Kelly. He'll never steer you wrong.

Speaking of things in your pants, you may want to watch this. It's quite lovely.

A couple weeks ago, I went to my sister's 23rd year wedding anniversary/bonfire party. I saw some friends I hadn't seen in ages. The crinkles around their eyes and the strands of gray in the hair freaked me out. So I said, "You guys are getting old."

They said, "Well, you are, too," almost in unison.

I laughed, took it in stride and shot them all in the head.

Seriously, we had a relaxing, fun time. It could be because we were all fucked up but I think it was the general mood of seeing each other again and the great weather and the food and the liquor and the dog and turkey face off.

Yes, I did record the Dog Vs. Turkey Match of The Millennium with my digital camera. The quality isn't that great but the content is funny. Forgive me or not about the quality. I was quite numb and it took all three of my working brain cells to find the movie camera symbol thingy on the camera dial thingy. Hope I'm not being too technical here.

No animals were hurt during the dog and turkey foreplay right before they finally made sweet, sweet inter-species love to one another, folks. So don't stress out!

Here's the video clip. Listen to our witty dialogue and be amazed! Watch two wild n' crazy beasts go at each other until the bitter dispute ends with tender, oddly arousing lovemaking! For real! Sorry, freaks, I had to edit that last part out. This is a family site, after all.

Before the entertainment, we feasted on grilled burgers, metts, bratwurst, a teriyaki rice dish I made, earlier, and a lot of other good edibles. We didn't kill and eat the turkey this time. It was covered with too much spooge.

During the course of the day and evening, I snapped a lot of shots of sunsets, people, animals, fire and Lord knows what. If you find out, tell me.

OH YEAHHH! And that's just what Randy "Macho Man" Savage said just before he crashed. Too true. Plus, he had a Slim Jim hangin' out of his pie hole when they found him slumped over.

Here are a few of the photos I took throughout the day and night of the party.

There's nothing like staring into the coals and flames of a raging bonfire. Very peaceful. It really eases the worries of the day and allows your mind to wander into tranquil territories.

We decided not to throw our friend, Marty, into the bonfire that night because, even though he has lost some muscle mass due to his MS disease, he's still kinda heavy. He still weighs in at 150 pounds. We tried encouraging him to steer his electronic mobile chair thingamajiggy into the fire, himself, to give us a break from hurting our backs from lifting him and possibly interrupting our drunken revelry but he was too lazy.

Damn him.

Normally, we would chase after our sarcastic friend, Greg, tackle him to the ground and take him to the bonfire "to threaten to throw him in" but he couldn't make it because he was working in Kansas.

Damn him, too.

You can see more photos from the party if you click on my photo blog, Pics For Kicks.

I hope everyone has a safe, fun, relaxing summer in the months ahead. It certainly beats where we were with that hellish winter here in the U.S. only a few months ago. I implore you to get out and enjoy nature. Believe it or not, fucking around with your computer or any other electronic device isn't all that.

These past few weeks have been glorious compared to what the situation was for the wife and I only a month ago. Hooray! About time!

While away from the hallowed, frankly ridiculous internet, we saw four movies in the theater.

I grade the following on a scale of 1-10:

Green Lantern gets an 8. Bad Teacher gets a 7. Cars 2 gets an 8. The latest Transformers movie gets an 8, as well.

Besides grilling out, drinking too much, communing with the great outdoors and spending money on a laptop for the wife and going out to eat about every friggin' day, I've recently gotten re-addicted to a computer game I played for years this last week. Just one more reason I haven't been blogging much these days. The game is called Sacred. It's an older hack n' slash RPG but it's still a lot of fun. My character is a Battle Mage named Master Heathen. I hate the pinkish color glow that his wicked magical armor gives off but it doesn't mean shit, really, when you take in the fact that he's really great at disemboweling his enemies with ease and setting them on fire as they continue to scream.

Well, gang, that's all I got for now. For my next post, I'm going to describe, with pictures and words, the big semi-annual flea market we go to every year that's famous for it's muzzle-loading shoots, odd items for sale and freaky folks dressed in leather, coon skin hats and dresses (not necessarily all at once) in nearly one hundred degree heat.

There's a variety of smells in the air, you'll detect, during the week long flea market/muzzle loading shoot. Everything from sweaty meat bags to Elk Burgers piled with sauteed onions.

That upcoming post should be fun. Stay tuned! Stay safe! And don't forget to put the M-80's down your pants and light 'em up to show your special Fourth of July patriotism. We're all counting on you.

Note: I'll try my damnedest to visit your blogs the next couple of days so be prepared.

Bad Service, Truths and Perceptions

There's been a lot of false starts, bad service, unwanted absence and too much of that unwanted shit and not enough of that preferable shit going on around here.

I hate to complain (actually, I quite enjoy it since complaining acts a release valve on my usually bottled up seething rage) but as I found myself on the righteous track of coming back to the wonderful world of blogging, a series of incidents preventing me from making a triumphant stay in my own neck of the bloggy woods occurred once again.

Hell, for a couple days there, I was even able to put out a couple posts without anything falling out of the sky to cave in my head. I thought I was in a utopia or paradise or an island filled with beautiful women, cheerfully sucking my meat pole for all it's worth. And it's worth a great deal, let me tell ya. At least to me. Okay, so that part about me feeling like I was on an island filled with tasty gals slobbering on my knob was an exaggeration. But I was starting to feel not tormented for a change in life and it was pretty decent, to tell ya the truth.

My friend asked me to go to his place to wait on a cable repairman (that didn't come) while the friend went to work. I owed my friend a couple favors so I did it. Besides, I'm a helluva great buddy. It's true! Believe it or not!

But the cable guy neither called or came. So my friend calls up the company support number when he gets home, listens to instructions on pushing this numbered button for this department or reason or service which connects him to more instructions for more buttons to push until he finally reaches a real human being and then proceeds to talk about how unsatisfied he is with the service.

He has a helluva lot more patience than I do. He had been without cable service for three days and the company he was dealing with had been promising to send somebody and no one called or showed up.

So instead of being at home, I was at his place, listening to the radio, reading a book and not doing anything on my blog or visiting other blogs. It sucked. And I did this on Monday and Wednesday, for my friend, waiting for the repair dude. I know. I'm a great friend. I mentioned that, right? Of course, when my friend got home from work both of those days, he fed me. Monday, it was grilled steaks for my wife and I. Wednesday, it was a dinner at a good Mexican restaurant.

By the way, the cable repair dude finally showed up Wednesday. He ended up temporarily fixing the friend's TV reception but said that the problem was actually the tuner on his TV. In other words, it wasn't the cable company's fault for his shitty reception but they are at fault for giving him the runaround and not giving him service until he finally reached an upper management type person during that last phone call he made.

Now, Tuesday, I was without Internet service. This would be the day between the days I sat at my friend's house, waiting for an idiot repair guy. I called the tech support, as I was going through some severe withdrawal symptoms from not being able to go on the Internet and after pushing several buttons to direct me to this number or that number, I was finally told a message by an automated machine. It said: There is no Internet service (with the company I have it with) for the entire state (I was living in) for an indeterminate amount of time but our experts were working on the problem.

There was no apology for this situation but at this point I was thinking:

At least the voice was clear and not heavily accented by somebody in India or Russia or BumFuck, Egypt. Usually, when you contact tech support for whatever electronic fuck-a-ma-jig you own, you usually get some asshole you can't understand.

Bad service is getting to be like a contagious disease in this country from what I've read, heard about and seen, first hand.

Don't ya just love the push button routine you have to go through with these companies? If you're lucky, they might give you a number to push to speak to a representative. But it's usually not the case. Especially when you want service within the next 24 hours.

I could go on and on about bad restaurant service but I'm sure you've had your own unfair share of that, too. Like when they don't give you a refill on your drinks. Or don't get your order right. Or bring your salad, main entree and dessert, all at once.

Since I'm back for the moment and terribly paranoid now about attempting to actually research a subject and write up a real post without something else happening, this post will have to do for now. Please enjoy the rest of these images, featuring truths and perceptions. Good day, good weekend and I'll try to catch up on all your blogs later after I get some shit done around here.

I thought I'd offer a wonderful clue at this point in the post: If you can't make out what you're ssseeeinng, use your fucking mouse to click and enlarge the image.

I'm always the Good fucking Samaritan. I tell ya.

I really liked the not-so-subtle truth that can be found in this Saturday Night Live skit. I know it's an exaggeration but there is a bit of truth and a big heaping helping of humor to be found while watching this. Heh heh.

Tweetering With One's Twitter

In the past I thought the Twitter and Facebook social networking websites were kind of an odd joke. A lot of folks go on these sites and tell other folks about every trivial little thing they're doing at the moment. Example: I'm scratching my head and thinking about a donut- or something equally as fascinating. Some people, like me, go on Twitter and Facebook to basically joke around with blog pals and every once in awhile, say something of significance. That last part, about the significance, is mighty rare, by the way. The likelihood of you seeing the U.S. budget deficit decrease in the near future may be a more common occurrence.

Then you have those who use one and/or the other as a way to promote their website, in varying degrees. Of course, there are the family and friends who go on either one of them and have real discussions with each other- at least, as real as a discussion you can have by reading and sending meager 140 character text-based messages (for Titters, that is). With "Fartbook", you have a little more space to write your oh-so-important messages and status updates. But, really, who gives a good shit, right? lol.

And what's the deal with people texting these messages on either one, saying they're not home and they're at this place or the other? I see that sometimes. Isn't that like inviting somebody to break in and rob your place while you're gone? Just a thought.

As you can see, I still think of both websites as kind of a joke. Personally, I use both of them for a little joking between friends and a little blog promoting (very little). It's hard for me to take Fartbook or Titters too seriously.

For your confusion and mediocre entertainment, I thought I would share The Best? of my Tweets on Twitter.

Here they are...

Finally broke down and bought a new electric shaver. Used the nose hair trimmer on my hairy nostrils.Don't worry. It all came out OK.

Except for that booger that got stuck in it

I'm hiring people to test this booby trap that shoots darts at somebody's head. The pay is excellent. I'm offering a Granny apple.

God, I hate frickin' mornings. I don't know how y'all do it.

yay...you love me long time. Boing!

Was in the shitter stall at a restaurant the other day.Thought of something funny.Started laughing my ass off. I wonder what people thought

You can't take me anywhere. I'm always making a scene.

Earlier, I saw two mothers racing their baby-loaded strollers against each other.I thought it was stupid so I threw a hand grenade their way

I found out three days ago that I can split a wooden chair with one blast of my ass. That's a talent you don't find every day.

I need to clean my keyboard. There's stuff on it I don't recognize.

Annoying people won't stop calling me today. Shut up, annoying people. Go away, please. I don't want your "crazy" right now.

I just got a haircut. Don't ya just hate it when the tiny bits of hair make ya itch around your neck?

Hurry up, coffee. Brew, muthasucka! Brew! I needs ta wake up.

Oh, sweet lawd... the coffee iz ready. Oh life-giving coffee, I wanna make piping hot love to thee. I wanna feel the burn, baby. sssss

I think I'm gonna lay down for a nice nap and dream of naked clown orgies.

Who took my sausage? Where are my notes? Is someone peeking at me from around the corner? Ah! Aliens!

Diddly doo diddly dee- I'm off to climb a tree

The coffee is making me piss a lot this morning. Maybe I should drink less. Nahhhh.

The story has a bit of everything. Wisdom, surrealism and a vagina mouse.

turds... I just thought it hasn't been said enough today

To all who have read my exciting entries thus far, have a good night or morning or whatever it is to you.

My ass cheeks are on fire from sitting too long.. Gotta get up and cornhole some furniture. That will put a smile on my face. Mmmm.

The most popular Google keyword to finding my site is animal genitals- just because I did one post on that subject.

I hear some idiot digging in the trash bin below me in the parking lot. I think he's digging for cans. He does this about every night

This is like talking to yourself but instead- typing on a keyboard. Does this make one crazy?

MERRY GODDAMN CHRISTMAS TO ONE AND ALL. HO HO HO AND A BOTTLE OF VALIUM...or whatever it takes to get ya through holiday hell.

In 3 more hours, a tribe of rabid family members will breach my hectic household and wreak chaos, kids, inane chatter and property damage

You can find more Christmas spirit in a frozen turd than you can find in me this year. What a surprise, eh?

Oh for the love of sanity, people, keep your friggin' gifts and just give me a tiny taste of peace and tranquility

Aaaah, look at all the hair on the palms of my hands! I shall repent hastily. wank wank wank

i KNOW ALL 'BOUT THOSE FAMILY SHIT STORMS. gOING THROUGH SOME HEAVY BATTLES IN THE WAR ZONE NOW. OPPS, MY CAPS ARE ON

oooh I just bet you do. I'm wearing my special underwear with dark brown skid marks. Are you lovin' it?

Thanks for that information.Now I know you're not home and I can magically transport to your place and spooge on your pillows

Thinking about going for my daily walk in the frozen tundra. Please, no one should attempt to rob the place while I'm away.

I have an attack cat that will rub up against your leg and meow if an intruder should come in

16 degrees F. here right now.The weatherman said if you go outside tonight,naked,you'll get frostbite on your wiener.

My belly is too full for me to sleep. I wish I could take a big plop. Then I would feel good as gold again. Damn these Thanksgiving dinners

gobble gobble... then squish, squirt, plop and splash. Thought the visual might help.

Humunna- Humanna- Humanna... Don't know what it means... but I've heard it before. Goodbye, sanity. Hello, tranquility.

BP CEO Tony Hayward wants his life back. And why does he always have that stupid grin on his face? He seems like an egotistical idiot.

I say we drop Tony in a lake of oil, set it afire and watch the fun.

will there be boobies?

Lick My Salty Meat Sack Today For A Better Brighter Future Tomorrow

Life is a carnival of insanity. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.If they try to, hit 'em with a taser gun or something.

I miss you,you bastard.Hey Qelgoth,I'm back and I'm twice the evil I was before.I make cat fisting look easy now.

Help. Help. I've fallen and I can't stop twittering and saying profound stuff

Remember the good ol' days when Bush and Cheney blew goats and snorted coke off the backs of trannies with Down Syndrome? What fun they had!

Rain, Motherf***ker, Rain! It's pouring down like crazy here. AHA HAHA HAH AHHAH AHAH HAHHAH AHAHHAHH N HAHAHHAJDDIT

The older I get, the more I tire from this crazy human species. This world needs an enema

People who dress their pets in outfits should be taken out to the woodshed for a whippin'

I'm playing cornhole with my goat.

Just got back from my walk around the park. The fountains were spurting green water and the snow is finally melting.

Were you hit by lightning? In the head? Let me help you. There are those committed to helping the deranged. I know.

automagically should be a real word

If lovin' is bad I don't wanna be good

If you hit your thumb really hard with a blunt instrument, your apology will be accepted. :)

My farts smell like fresh made bread or something that smells like it poofed out from the rectum of the Pillsbury Dough Boy

Lordy Lordy, puddin n' pie, kiss da girls and made them fly.

Currently, I'm singing a song I just made up. It's called "I Hate People". If you know the words, you are invited to sing along with me

Neil Young is almost the only remaining cool guy that's still talented and has been around for ages.

Just made a big ol' pot of chili. Salsa is my secret weapon, when added to the pot. Think about it. Salsa has everything you want in chili

It's time for revolution, everyone! Be it yourself or the rest of humanity!

That's it, folks! Hell, if these fascinating entries don't make you wanna FOLLOW ME on Titters, then gosh, I don't know what will. (rolls eyes)

Great Affordable Christmas Gifts

I don't know if you've noticed or not but we're currently living and struggling in a recession. Well, at least 98% of us are. The other 2%, the Über-wealthy (those being careful not to be in direct contact with we, the peasantry) among us believe we are no longer in a recession... but they can go fuck their self-delusional selves, of course. Is this class envy, some of you may suspect? Nope. Just simple, clear minded observation of today's reality. Join me for a tiny taste of reasoning, won't you?

Anyway, I digress...

I have put just a whole lot of thought and consideration of the current holiday and over commercialized gift giving season and have come up with some delightful gifts that are simple to make or find for both friends or family. You can bet your sweet bippy that they'll enjoy these special presents for many years to come. And best of all, none of these items will ever go out of style.

Without further ado:

BAG

This simple item can be used to put your stuff in and is especially affordable during these hard times. Think of all the fun you can have with BAG and be sure to note the look of wonder and glee in your child's eyes once they open their gift box and see BAG for themselves. One of the most impressive qualities this item has is it's ability to be taken almost anywhere... except at the airport, where your courteous airport security personnel will happily treat you like a terrorist and give you a deep cavity search just for attempting to carry your average supermarket BAG on a plane. BAG can also be handy as a container for used facial or toilet tissue.

Other uses with BAG include but are not exclusive to: placing over an insidiously ugly citizen's face, placing over one's shoes so the individual can not only keep their footwear clean and dry but they can slip, fall and break their fucking neck and last, but certainly not least, BAG can handily function as a way for suffocating an insufferable, irritating douche bag any time of the year.

TURD

This particular item can be home made by eating enough food and being able to push it out of one's butt hole. It's the kind of gift that shows to loved ones, friends and family that you truly care because it is so personal. What's more, TURD may be used in conjunction with BAG so instead of the recipient getting only one gift under the Christmas tree this holiday season, they may receive two at one time. What a delightful bonus! If you should not want to go through the effort of producing TURD yourself, due to either constipation or pure laziness (as in "I don't give a shit"), feel free to go to your neighborhood park or back yard to find a fresh or not-so-fresh cat, dog, deer, fox or Sasquatch TURD.

What co worker, friend or family member wouldn't be instilled with feelings of endearment and joy this holiday season by finding this special stocking stuffer? Special considerate additions to TURD could be: incompletely digested corn, blood, a bit of hemorrhoid or a dollop of whipped cream on top. Go ahead! Make TURD special this Christmas!

ARTWORK

This gift has a multitude of possibilities and as a bonus, it serves as a way to express yourself, creatively, whether it's handmade and or something you bought cheaply from a very starving artist or took from an orphan child while it cried. ARTWORK can be something drawn on a piece of paper. Such as: A smiley-faced stick figure. Or... A peace sign. Or... A child's handmade drawing of his or her family soaked with well spent tears after you robbed them of it.

ARTWORK need not be categorized as something only painted, drawn or tattooed above one's buttocks. Indeed, ARTWORK can be something made or used out of any one of the following: clay, Popsicle sticks, paper mache, aluminum foil, wood (careful with that knife), hardened mucous "boogers" and of course, the ol' tried and true, TURD. You may want to use gloves with that last one. With 'boogers" there's no real need because you can simply lick your fingers after you're done. No mess, no fuss.

GLASS JAR

Some may argue that this invaluable present is a bit too much like BAG and that I may be repeating myself in some fashion but I disagree. GLASS JAR is a much sturdier gift and is much more efficient for holding liquids and jelly-like substances. No real chance for leakage, especially if you have the lid screwed on nice and tight. Well, now that I've said those two words, I have a substantial boner. Who would have thought? GLASS JAR can be also used for quickly flinging into a continuously disagreeable individual's face. You know, that special someone who delights in disagreeing with you on every single goddamn thing that you say just for the fucking sake of disagreeing with you.

But I digress...

Additionally, GLASS JAR can be used for containing homemade jellies and jams, moonshine, pee, a fart or two (however many you can fit in) or an imaginary sum of cash. For that last suggestion, I suggest you print the cash value of the imaginary amount of cash that is supposedly in GLASS JAR and tape it firmly on the side of GLASS JAR. Otherwise, this unique gift just won't have as much meaning and the recipient will not be able to appreciate the real value of his or her gift and will therefore be somewhat displeased.

Well, that's all I can or care to think of at the moment. I hope I've enhanced your holiday and gift giving experiences with these festive ideas. If you wish, you may thank me for these helpful suggestions by leaving a thoughtful comment in my comment box. In conclusion, I wish all of my readers (all three of them) a very merry, joy-filled, awkward family gathering Christmas this year.

Seasons Greetings, everyone!

Bet Ya Didn't Know I Have a New Blog

There was a time when I was taking pictures of everything except a rat nibbling a piece of cheese off the tip of my penis. Then I fell out of love with snapping shots of this, that and the other. Long story, there.

Oh, and I had the rat assassinated, too. Poor fuckin' Ratty. That was his name- Ratty. Pretty original, eh? I strapped him to a lamp post and let my cat eat his little kicking legs until he went Weee-Weee-Weee -all the way to a cruel, dismembering death.

In the last couple of years, I've gone back to my love for photography and taken a whole crapload of pics. As a matter of fact, I created a spankin' new blog, featuring original photos taken by me, called Pics For Kicks. You won't find anything too wild on this site so don't go expecting that before you click the link. And I know some of you freaks are expecting clown porn or a 7 foot tall, cross-eyed sociopath holding a golden goblet full of eyeballs but I would have to tell you to quell your thirst for insanity at some other site.

Take the one you're on right now, for instance.

Here's a sneak preview of my first post on Pics For Kicks.

As you may be able to tell, unless you're on crack, shrooms or you're an absolute imbecile, this is not an image of a guy wearing a thousand and one dildos. For that, you'll have to check out one of my previous, recent posts.

I asked some of you out there in the BlogoSphere and in RealityWorld to give me some ideas for a suitable title for my blog and although Snapshots Of Drooling Retards and Does This Look Creamy To You? were both just dandy as the bee's knees (how bees have knees-I'll never know) I thought about all the ideas everyone contributed and decided that my friend, Steve, had the best one.

Because he is the incredibly fortunate winner of my unofficial lil' poll, I am happy to award him with the grand prize- One free dinner at the Droopy Nipple Cafe. Congratulate him folks! He's a lucky man. Twice lucky, in fact. The other reason being because he has such a good friend in me.

That's him below, trying to hide from me. He quickly finds out there is no escape.

When you go to the new blog, Pics For Kicks and check it out (and I know you will because I have a gun to your head) you'll notice it is almost barren with the exception of the first post of pics. This is because I am lazy. Either that or I've been busy. Either that or I'm surfing for inspiring, wholesome websites that gives one hope and fills you up with overwhelming love.

Ha ha ha ha hah ahhahhahahahaaaaaaaaaa. Eh, yeah.

Anyway.... Here's that link again-

Pics For Kicks

And tell 'em Kelly sent ya. They'll know what to do. ;)

The Melancholy Roller Coaster Ride

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