the starbuckateer

outfit: all black ensemble including, tapered, too tight pants;over-sized and unflattering bulky black jacket; black beret; frizzy, too long for your face shape hair; and shiny block heeled shoes.
sigh. where to start? guess at the top and work my way down. the beret. really a beret? really? is it 1950 or have we all been transported back to france. is some gay waiter coming by to snottily ask if we want wine and cheese and to please put pants on while in their stupid snooty restaurant? no? then ditch the beret fatty. seriously. its not cool. no one envies your beret, and no one will come up to you ask where you got it. i'm sure you found it by a dumpster anyway. 'cause even the homeless wouldn't wear that shit.
i get it. you're fat. you were once slim and attractive and then middle age hit and whacked you with the fat stick. hard. and in many places including your hoo-hoo. you think that if one piece of black clothing will hide your fat ass then why not dress in all black. but a bulky jacket will make your fatness look even fatter. and those tight tapered black pants will only make your fat ass look wider and fatter. and those shiny, chunky block shoes. your 8th grade wiccan coven is calling - they want their shoes back.
other reason why i hated this lady. we saw her 2xs at starbucks. the first time she was yakking on her cell phone, all self important like, using an earpiece and shouting into the handset. idiot. the 2nd day she was in starbucks furiously typing away - with her nails, gah, my pettest peavest ever - trying to look like she has a job, or friends, or that she matters in some way. also, both days she wore the same outfit. lending credence to my theory of the dumpster diving beret.

originally posted oct18/07

how to: respectfully break up with someone

on the next big holiday/bday/anniversary/bar mitzvahs etc. tell your partner you are taking them out for dinner and that you have something really special to tell them. don't use phrases like "we have to talk" or "its important". these are red flag phrases - they'll figure it out. and as anyone knows, the best break-up is the surprise breakup. after you pull up to mcdonalds/wendy's/the hardees in home despot, laugh when they give a weird look like "i got all dressed up for this shit?", grab their hand and skip into the "restaurant". now you need to make sure there are people around you - close by too. so pick a table that is right in the middle of a crowd. have your partner save the table while you go order some food. after sitting down with the food, say "oh, did you want something too?" and act annoyed that you have to go back into line and order them food too. or you could skip that step and just let them pick at your fries a little. but don't let them eat too many - they are YOUR fries and your hard earned drug money paid for 'em. after you're done eating, take a final swig of your drink and belch. next, take their hand and look deep into their eyes. explain how you don't love them anymore/find them attractive/stand the sound of their voice etc. don't sugarcoat anything - be brutally honest. don't give your partner, well ex-partner now, a chance to respond. noisily push your chair back from the table, give a wry shrug to the horrified faces of the people sitting around you and quickly exit the store. oh, but before you leave, make sure you make it clear that you will not be giving them a ride home. after all, you're no longer dating. now, even tho you'll soon be sitting all warm and dry in your apt, possibly with a prostitute gobbling on your naughty bits, you can enjoy the image of your ex all sniffly and upset taking the bus home in the rain. oh - i forgot to mention - make sure its raining that day. happy break up!

originally published oct26/07

where da baby jebus at?

to the purple puffy coated assface cutting her nails on the bus: no one wants to walk on your gross nail leavings and possibly track them home. were you raised in a barn? or with a traveling pack of hobos? if i sat beside would you have gone all primate and checked my hair for ticks? people need to learn and start applying basic rules of etiquette. here's a handy list of dos and don't
1. don't cut your damn nail on the bus - already stated, but worth mentioning again
2. don't take your shoes off in public unless you're at the beach
3. if your shoes are off, do not pick at your feet
4. cover your mouth/nose when you cough/sneeze etc.
5. for the love of all things holy and otherwise, keep your muther effing finger out of your gd nose.
and finally,
6. don't fart in public. no one wants the particles inside your colon, in their lungs. seriously.

eff that muther-effer

dog owners are fucked up. maybe i should clarify - pet owners are fucked up. after my last post i decided to use the 'Next blog' feature and see what everyone else was doing. and after searching past a couple of sex blogs - these people did seriously not need to be naked ever. cause damn - tummy rolls, and muffins tops and tiny wangs, oh my. but anyway, i came across a blog from the UK. told in the voice of an airdale terrier 'mojo'. now this either the smartest fucking dog ever, or some retarded human has nothing better to do than to write a blog in the voice of their fucking dog. don't get me wrong, i love dogs, i have a dog - she's fantastic. but unless it was for a bit or for irony purposes, i would not ever write a blog for her. dogs are not children substitutes - they are companions, pets. they do not need clothes - magically, they are all born with clothes - its called fur, fucktards - nature's sweater. oh, and yoda costumes are totally exempt.

ps. if you hate horses, check out this blog http://horsehater.blogspot.com/
and if you wanna check out one of the lamest pet blogs i've come across so far, http://mojoairedale.blogspot.com/

cuppa soup, bitch

my last company thought paychecks were optional. so i got used to paying for things with my credit card. and cringing every time my statement popped up online. i think i even cried once when i saw what i owed. lousy body - needing to food to survive. and clothes to stay warm and unviolated in public. so i was a little weary starting my new job, where they promised to pay me. i even asked specifically "do you guys get paid here?" and they all answered yes. and even tho i didn't really know any of them at the time, i chose to believe. and how could i not? their earnest faces, eyes wide and glistening, nodding, reassuring that my hard work would result in what everyone ultimately looks for in a job, a paycheck. so yesterday was payday. i eagerly logged into my bank account to see if the magic fairy brought me cash. i squirmed with excitement, thinking about how much money would be there - this would be my first full paycheck here. but to my disappointment, and sadly i wasn't surprised - there was no money. i asked around, seeing if anyone else got paid - i was glared and struck. ok - people said they didn't know, that they didn't check. apparently when you get paid all the time, you don't really worry about when the money is coming - it'll get there when it gets there. so i sat at my desk cried. ok, no - that would be pathetic. but i was kind of wondering if i had signed on to another atimi-esque company. today, i came to work, put down my stuff, lunch in the fridge, and sat at my computer. should i check my bank account? i wasn't sure if i could handle another day of no money. so i waited. and waited. i lasted a whole 2 hrs, then i logged into my account. apprehensively, i looked at my bank balance. i swear i heard holy music and angels dancing around - the sun even shone through the shitty vancouver rain clouds and onto my balance. it was there; i had been paid - the magic fairy had visited me during the night. and instead of leaving a giant pile of credit card interest - like that bitch normally does - she left me a giant pile o' monetary happiness. the moral of this story is that money is everything. and if you're not getting paid, it means you work at atimi and therefore suck goat ass. except for kev.

tsk tsk

Recently I posted an entry making fun of sam sullivan and his non-working legs. I received a bit flack over it. Mostly from my boyfriend. I have now deemed kev a cripple lover and am breaking up with him. Publicly. For all of my 2 readers to laugh at. I just don’t think I can trust a cripplelover. Maybe he has a cripple fetish? Am I gonna come home one day and a wheelchair will be waiting beside the bed, him posing sexily beside it attempting to entice me into the chair? Or worse, will I come home from work unexpectedly and find him in a –gasp!- ménage a chair? Or will cell ring one day – while I’m out teaching blind children how to speak, and it’ll be the ER saying I need to come get my boyfriend cause his weiner’s been in a horribly spoke accident and they had to amputate. And I’d say, “not his wiener!” and the doctor would try and not laugh, but we’d both know what she was thinking – that I must be a huge pervert too. A sick, wheelchair lovin’ pervert. For shame Kevin. For besmirching my good name.

who wants a muffin?

So I’ve decided that mayor sam sullivan is leg-ist, in that he hates people with the full use of their legs. This is why he doesn’t give a flying crap about the strike – it effects the pools and fitness centres. And he can’t use these facilities. Well he could. But I’d bet he’d drown. Wheelchairs are heavy. And it’s kinda cheating to wheel beside someone who is running. I mean, jeez, wheels vs. legs – who’s gonna win? Now I will say that the garbage dealie effects both the legged and unlegged equally. I take that back – it doesn’t. I bet if you couldn’t use your legs, you’d hire someone to take out your trash. Or the gov’t appoints you a trash taker outer or some shit like that. So really, even tho legless dude is in a wheelchair, he is quite possibly the smartest guy ever. Also, I just found out he invents things. Maybe he’s trying to invent bionic legs wherein the knees have lasers in them. Cause I’ve been wanting a pair of laser knees for a quite a few years now. And if that cripple invents them first and reaps all that profit… well, let’s just say that I will steal the plans, and dump him out of his chair. And then dance around him. And stretch my legs right in front of him. And do knee bends n shit. Yeah. That’ll show him.

oooooh another post - i'm on a roll!

blurg. so i just ate my inaugural timmy's breakfast sammich. the only word that comes to mind is blech. seriously. it was cold, and greasy and the bun/biscuit doodad was gross. also, there was something kinda chunky and hard in my "egg". my tea was super good. timmy's should stick to what they do best - brewin' coffee, steepin' tea and defrostin' donuts.

new post! now with 10xs more hate!

so my current workplace is going through some rough financial hoo-ha. basically, we're not getting paid. due to some spectaulary poor decisions by upperest management, canadian employees are behind at least 3 paychecks. yeah - it sucks the big one. for the most part, employees are obediently bending over and taking it in the corn-hole. some are grumbling quietly - in darkened corners, whispering and glancing around to make sure no one heard them. others are grumbling out loud - hoping someone hears them. and some have checked out altogether. yours truly was dicked over for a promotion and had a superbly timed 'migraine' for all of tuesday. this excuse at least seems plausible. some coworkers have giving up making up believable excuses. case in point t today. everyone's favorite slacker has come up with another gem of an excuse as to why he can't be at work today. keep in mind, that this jerk regularly avoids work and with the lamest excuses - so its not just the 'not getting paid in a month' that spurring him on. anyway - i thought i'd share today's excuse:
"I feel like Im teething. I lost a lot of sleep last night, and slept
in this morning. Im on my way now.

*fingers crossed they prescribe me a large bottle of oxycodone today*"

sigh. and this guy is still employed. i know. go figure. what other workplace lets its employees get away with this shit? but this is just one of many awesome examples of work slackery. i will paste the gems below for your amusement.

"Last night, I ate too much. lol. I stuffed my face and went to bed
right away. haha. Long story. Anyways, I have major gut rot this
morning, go figure =P. Im going to work from home today."

"Im walking home to consume some "magic pink syrup""

"I went to my cousins wedding on saturday, which in itself was fun. Lots
of eating / dancing / laughing / crying. Something there wasn't right
though as I got really sick by the middle of the night. Feeling a lot
better this morning than I did yesterday, but Im going to stay in bed
again this afternoon and sleep it off."

"*ahhh*! Everything is going completely horribly wrong this morning!!
I woke up, got ready for work, almost to the point of completion, when it
came time to put my glasses on....... not in the bedroom, not in the
bathroom, not in the living room, not on my computer desk ( the usual
spots ). wtf.....
Last night I fell asleep on my parents couch while brandon and my sister
were taking a dip in the hot tub. I was only half awake when brandon woke
me up; Not realizing it until this morning, I left my glasses on the
mantle at my parents house....... in richmond =*(
*&^%&$*
Im bussing out to the far corner of richmond to get them now......
freakin pain in the ~
By this point I expect to be at work both Saturday and Sunday =("

"In a series of unfortunate events, I injured myself this evening....
long story. Im going to the doctors tomorrow morning to get my chest
looked at... just to make sure nothing is seriously damaged. I
should be in the office by noon."

"I was at work late last night... came home and went right to bed; As sad
as it is, I don't have any clean clothes to wear..... I barely managed
to find clean clothes to wear yesterday actually. Im going to work from
home today so I can sift through the sea of boxes during compile time and
locate something to wear!"

"Il be leaving work early friday afternoon. As of yet I don't know
what time that will be. Brandon is going into surgery at 2pm, and
seems to believe he doesn't need someone there to drop him off / sign
him in. He seems to think he only needs someone to pick him up /
sign him out. I find that a little hard to believe... but we will
see. He is loosely scheduled to be ready to go home sometime between
4pm - 7pm. I wont know when Il be leaving to pick him up from
surgery until he is actually ready to go home. ( its not serious;
he is just getting his tonsils out )"

"Im going to work from home today as I am deadly tired, and should
stay home to monitor brandon anyways. We had an unscheduled trip to
the hospital ( again ) =( . Fingers crossed this is the last time;
Brandon started bleeding in the middle of the night, for the second
time. A needle down the back of the throat, some heat to burn the
flesh shut, and several missed hours sleep later........... he's
doped up on pain killers and sleeping right now. I dont want to
leave him."

" Brandon came down with a wicked and slightly unusual migraine
yesterday ( unusual as in peripheral vision blury / fading, and very
intense ). He went to a medical clinic where they told him to go
directly to a hospital, and not to stop in any public places. They
did a bunch of blood work and looked him over, but couldn't figure
out what it was, but did think he was not contagious, which is good.
Possibly a parasite of some kind (?), which is odd as we were so
careful with what we ate in the DR. He is slightly improved this
morning, so its probably nothing serious."

yeah - that was all from one guy. as i went through my email - i noticed that he was away from the office for stupid excuses 62 times since oct 2006.

and these are form another model employee.

"I seem to have misplaced my bus pass, so I will be working from home
today."

"With a mixture of feeling ill and avoiding a few hour bus ride (because of
the snow). I will be wfh today."

there was also an excuse about him twinging his back - but i guess i deleted that one.

so basically, teh fact that people are allowed to get away with this shit and the non-paycheck situation makes for a very cranky kylee. a cranky and ranty kylee. eff.

will eff for scone

i tried to post a rant today. i really did. but i couldn't organize my thoughts. i'm too scattered and cranky and warm. the weather is crappy. and i'm thristy. i even tried to write a rant about not being able to write a rant. 2xs actually. and this shitty post was all i could come up with. boo. stupid listless afternoon. i think the AC just clicked on. so maybe it won't be so stuffy in here. this is boring. i apologize for making you read this. if you want, send me your address and i'll mail you something nice. you know to make it up to you for reading this. maybe i'd be happier if i had an adorable tiny puppy to play with. stupid bf and his non-puppy buying ways. is it so much to ask that i have an adorable cuddly little friend to play with? i don't think so. but here i am, puppy-less and bored. also, i haven't yet won that 40million. i bet that would keep me entertained for bit. at least a few days i'd imagine. dude, the AC's too cold. stupid skirt. makin' me all cold and shit. effing weather was beautiful when i got dressed this morning. and as soon as we got in the stupid car to drive to stupid effing work, it clouded over and now it's probably gonna rain. gd everything. gd the weather, and the gd this stupid mother effing movie i'm watching to help ease the time. brothers grimm sucks some serious ass. huh. a bird just tried to get in my office window. he seemed to be eyeing up my laptop. i bet he was thinking he could jimmy open the window and make off with my lappy. you know, to pawn for hookers 'n blow. crows do that you know. they're suckers for strange ass and the white powder. effing crows. and especially eff the white winged crows.

charming is not a new synonym for crap

so i would like to write a giant FUCK YOU to all the slum lords out there who have recently wasted my time. over the past few weeks, me and my boyf have gone to look at countless houses and apartments in the mt. pleasant area. and guess what, they have all been pieces of shit. do landlords think that people are so desperate to live in that area that they're willing put up with holes in the wall, disgusting, old moldy carpet and rat feces? cause i'm not. the best ones we've seen had bedrooms the size of closets. and not big walk-in type dealies either - i'm talking about small, often window-less dungeon-y closets. and i'm not that picky. i'm not above living in places just past the squalor line. really, my friends who were unfortunate to come visit me can attest to that. i've lived in old, in dank, in small, in flea infested and also in moldy, mushroom growing carpeted crapholes. one apartment i affectionately called, 'the slanty shanty', cause the floor sloped. in a big way. there was also a special needs guy above me that when i first moved in, thought he was in horrible pain. then i discovered he just like masturbating. a lot. yeah. so really, i have lived the gambit. all i'm asking for now is a decent - note i didn't use the word spectacular or amazing or awesome or canflabulistic - main floor that is in no way infested with anything. this includes, fleas, rats, dog excrement, cat pea, homeless jerks and used needles. i'd even take an apartment. and yes, same rules apply - no crap. i pity the next assface landlord that wastes my time. oh wait. no i don't. cause they deserve any onslaught i dole out on account of being lying bastard, effing sons of bitches.

Everybody farts

I know I know. I haven’t written in a while. I’ve neglected my blog. It wasn’t personal. I guess I just needed a break. Maybe I didn’t have anything important to say. Atho, that never stopped me in the past….

Anyway, at work we have a farter. Someone who passes gas. In the office. Cause he’s proud of ‘em and wants everyone to waft in their glory? I don’t know. But it’s gross. I mean, you’re basically smelling the inside of his colon. Particles of digested food are clinging to your nostril hairs. His ass is entering your body. Yeah, it’s gross to think about. Anyway, I drafted up an email and sent it out. Never thought I’d have to, but here we are.

Subject: Everybody farts

It’s true. Everyone’s body digests things (food, tires, etc.) and produces gas. Sometimes this gas needs to be let out. As adults, I assume we all have the ability to hold them in – or at least hold them off while we exit the room. Every now and again, everyone slips. However, this has been happening more often lately. The macT room is small and these slips affect everyone. So please be considerate of your office-mates. Go for a walk, clench or think about baseball (oh wait – that’s for something else….)

Oh, and no need to own up or apologize, we’ll all just let the issue waft away.

kylee

i love my co-workers

quote by my nifty lady co-worker "'cause its not gonna work until justin rolls his trunk in."

awesome.

dink punches for all. dink punches for some?

in the bathroom at work are 3 stalls. now each stalls presents a whole host of pros and cons. this makes stall selection quite crucial - also, a little thinking on you r feet is required. the first stall has a lock, that works, is always stocked with toilet paper. however, this is a widely used stall as it is the only one with all of the aforementioned items. because it is so widely used, you often encounter a giant log of poo that has not been properly flushed down and is now clogging it. damnit ladies, poop at home or in a baggie under your desk like i do. hee hee, i hide the baggies around the office, in random desks. next is the middle stall. this does not have a working lock. i used to hold the door closed with my head and try and pee - worked quite well. then i figured out if you jammed a piece of toilet paper in there it'll stay closed. this stall also has the newest toilet. also, its the cleanest as the broken lock scares most urinators away. the extra paper usage is wasteful. so i generally try not to take this stall. but the cleanliness seduces me sometimes..... oh, this stall has the shortest flush handle. this means you have to use you r hand to flush it. eww. who does that in a public bathroom? not me. i use my foot. but its awkward to try and jam my shoed foot in the little space between the lid and the handle. but its clean, so kinda worth it. this brings us to the last stall. its the handi stall, so wide enough for even our giant assed pee-ers. you can put your bag down, stretch out or practice your ballet kicks. its what i do anyway. this stall is very well used and therefore not clean. also, this stall requires the most commitment as you can't just flush it quick. you have to hold the handle for a few seconds. i like to count to 5 or think of something funny i did that day. and since i hold the handle down with my foot, this requires somewhat of a balancing act. but thats ok - lots of room to flail around, it's meant for fatties and 'tards.
if you ever wonder why the ladies take so long in the bathroom, it's not because we take 10 minutes to pee, or that we gab with our lady friends or admire ourselves in the mirror, you know, think how great you are, compliment yourself, maybe tell yourself a funny little story - its because we evaluate every aspect of the pee devices and the surroundings. oh, and by everyone, i mean me. 'cause who the hell else is crazy enough to do that overtime they have to pee. just me. and thats alright with me. also, eff you.

dear facebook

for whatever reason, you have deemed my name, Kylee Sabados as offensive. this is actually my real name. I would like my facebook account to reflect my real name. Kyky Pajami is not a real name. in fact, in spanish, it means horse's anus. so i would appreciate you un-banning my real name of Kylee Sabados. seriously, its real. Its on my birth certificate and driver's license. and its what i generally answer to on a daily basis. thank you for your time.

facebook blows. (left that part out of the email. but i feel that this is an accurate statement as to how i feel about facebook and it blow-inducing ability)

can i get a w00t! w00t!

heh. quote from my boss. "i didn't mind it so much, but after sucking on it for about 10 minutes, it left this really gross taste in my mouth."

don't make me punch you in the irish

while i disagree with tom selleck's gun toting yay policy, i thoroughly agree with his porno mustache wearing policy. that man is the epitome of all the 80's had to offer. crime fighting, helicopters, tiny white shorts, a pudgy, sad sack of a side kick and of course, the mustache. so bushy and full of life. its shone on the t.v, like a beacon of truth and justice, giving comfort and reassurance to all. i think he should have his own festival - selleck 'fest. free with your admission ticket, you'd get a fake mustache to wear and of course, a pair of those fantastic white shorts. maybe there'd be booths and lectures and workshops to learn about all things magnum. helicopter flying simulations, a gun range and of course, mustache combing lessons. cause what's the use of having a luxurious, bushy vagina magnet on your face if there's food stuck in it and its all knotted and gnarled. and man, you gotta get the right mustache conditioner. you want that bad boy to be silky and manageable, not greasy and limp. UPDATE: it has been suggested that the name of selleck-athon should be selleck-con or sell-con for short. in my opinion, this infers that the extravaganza would be held inside some lame-o convention centre. wrong. it needs to be in an open field, where the mighty wind blows your mighty mustache and bees buzz by. flowers dot the sides the trail leading the visitors to grounds of awesomeness. eff. i really want to go to selleck fest '07. stupid imaginary festivals. taunting me with their illicit mustache ways and promising not one, but several types of fantasticalism.

and baby makes three...

i wish there was beverage like tea, but not tea. something you could steep like tea, and drink hot, but not tea. i mean, don't get me wrong, tea is great. fantastic in fact. i love a good cuppa tea. after finishing a big meal i always crave tea. i think that's a throw-back from when i spent time in quebec. my host mum would always serve us a giant 4 course meal and follow it up with tea. and then booze. but mostly i remember the tea. tea is good cause it warms you up but is light. coffee is almost like a meal. its thicker and heavier. maybe thats just cause of all the creme and flavorings that get shoved in there. and hot chocolate is also too heavy and meal-like. maybe they could make a nice light choco flavored tea. and don't even try and suggest fruit teas. those muther-effers are an abomination of biblical proportions. and no, i am not exaggerating or blowing shit out of proportion. its the same way i feel about the mixed flavors of kool-aid. effing homewreckers. there are 3 basic flavors of kool-aid, in my opinion: orange, green, cherry. everything else can go to hell. and those color changing ones need a good ritual cleansing. a little fire cleans everything, right? at least thats what i told myself when i set fire to that house full of kitties. they were bad. and god said to.....

i whore for jesus

so lately i've been thinking about starting my own line of cereals. i think there is a huge market out there for religious themed cereals. mine would be Jesus O's, or Fruity Frosted Apostle O's or Chocolate covered Stigmatas. maybe the box would say: 'Now with marshmallow Apostles!' or "Become one with God - eat His Cereal!' or 'The cereal God wants you to eat'. oh, and with the Jesus O's, when you stirred the bowl, the milk would turn red. and maybe little thorns would float to the surface and the prize inside would be a stake and some nails, or a Jew-doll to take your revenge out on. He'd have his little blue shawl on, the little beanie on his head and those crazy sideburn ringlets. oooh, or maybe you get a little jezebel doll. and since i'm lazy, i'll just use the old britney dolls - you know, the ones when she still had hair and didn't chase after people and threaten them with an umbrella. cause that is one cheap whore. alright, so maybe all of this was just an elaborate ruse to mention how much i hate britney and how much of a whore she is. or maybe i just want documented proof of my cereal before some jackass actually gets off the pot and makes it. then i can sue and roll around in money. and roll i would. even if i only got like 1k. i get the bank to change it into singles, throw it on my bed and just go nuts. oh yeah. and yes - singles. i'd get american money. jerks. cause loonies seem like they'd be painful and also you'd get one of those crazy skin indents like when you fall asleep on a hammock and your face is all patterned and plaid'd. and everyone looks at you and laughs and you think its just cause people always laugh at you and you're making a mental note of which person to add to your 'to be killed' list and which people you might keep around for a while, you know, in case one of them is like a doctor or something and you need a kidney transplant cause a horse kicked you in the spleen and stuff got ruptured. metallica rulz.

drivin' truck

do you remember that part in star trek 4 when they put those crawly things in that dude's helmet and they make the guy wear the helmet? and then the things crawl into his brain? eww. i do. it's actually one of my earliest memories. my hometown had a drive-in. one of the last remaining in fact, until they bulldozed to make room for a trailer park. anyhow. a couple times during the summer, we would all cram in the white toyota tercel and and boogey on down to see not one, but 2 movies. from our car. yeah. that's pretty high tech to a 6 yr old. after the first movie was done, generally for the kids, the grownup movie would start. my parents would fold down the back seat and make a bed for me and sis in the backseat/truck. again, ridiculously cool to a kid. why? who knows? the thought of sleeping in a trunk now, well, is basically kinda gross. think of what you put in the trunk. everything thats not good enough or clean enough to go in the actual car part with the rest of the civilized things. i'm not talking about bags of poo. altho maybe. my buddy cheryl had a car in high school. she had everything in her trunk. but i'm pretty not poo. altho she did talk about it quite a bit. hmm, that was leah. or maybe both. boy, my friends sure liked poo.

el poacho ranchero el whaleo

lately, i've been thinking a lot about my childhood. specifically the tv of my generation. it seems like you can talk to anyone of the same age and from different geographical locales, and they all remember the same shows. when i was really young, i remember such tube-a-matic gems as the snorks. apparently this show was so short lived that wikipedia has no entry on it. kind of a travesty if you ask me. i really enjoyed those crazy headed, uh, beings and their wacky far out adventures. the epi i remember best is entitled "Tooter has a fish on the bus". fantastic. another show i watched religiously was the gummi bears. i even had a doll of gruffy - the show's cranky character. i believe i was given this 'cause of my uh, sunshine-y disposition. i know that may have been a bit of a shock for those of you who don't really know me all that well. but i was a cranky child. i've mellowed out now tho. really i have. i still wanna shiv everyone all the time, but i restrain. partly cause it's not kosher in today's society and partly cause i enjoy an un-incarcerated type of existence. prison is smelly and boring and many ladies would like to make you their bitches. so i guess our stupid justice system does work - in a round-about kind of way. but maybe you like being someone's bitch. maybe you're tired of using your brain all the time and just wanna zone out, be told what to do. more power to you, i guess. i, however, enjoy being near the top of the food chain. i'd have to shiv a lot of broads to be tops in jail. not that i'm opposed to that much carnage. i picked up a giant raw turkey breast this weekend with out retching. it felt all cold and dead, so i guess i just got used to it. oh, that and i killed a hobo.

you emilio estevez pounding fat gummi-bear

things that were discussed at thursday's lunch n learn:
*jesus' wiener (see previous blog entry)
*ice pants
*constructing a time-machine using the scientific principles from such instructional videos as: time-cop, back to the future, quantum leap, the time tunnel, and all episodes of star trek. oh and also superman
*using the newly constructed time-machine to go back in time and punch yourself so hard that you make yourself barf
*bear ass pie
*dressing in a panda suit so you can get some sweet sweet panda ass
*getting kicked out of the aquarium for donning an orca suit and attempting the sweet *sweet orca lovin'
*hookers n blow
*how you know you're gay
*how you know that i know you're gay
*using peaches instead of pineapple in a stir-fry
*how to make kevin appear both taller and short simultaneously
*and finally: how whitecake would like to use the aforementioned time-machine, go back in time and be the father of every employee at work. why? 'cause it'd be funny

gotta git my re-lig on

normally i don't like to blog about my work - you know, unless its my jerk coworkers. it's religious and it annoys me. however, i haven't posted for a while and am feeling lazy so i will just paste a conversation i had with whitecake re: jesus. um, i cleaned up the spelling. but anyone who knows me, knows that i am the worst IM speller ever. i can clean it up when writing actual work, but i just couldn't care less for IM.

kyky: i think we should all get to go to camp (bible software place extravaganza secret whatnot ahem)
kyky: you know, learn how they use the product
WC: uuhh, isn't that like bible camp?
kyky: yup
kyky: bible software camp
kyky: it not only crams religion in yer face, but also nerdy software
WC: I don't understand, I thought jesus hates technology and science
kyky: i guess unless it benefits him
kyky: i mean Him
WC: realistically shouldn't it be HIM
WC: why just the first letter?
kyky: ooh - that's too in your face
kyky: kind of sinny
WC: hiM?
kyky: hIm
kyky: cause the 'i' represents his wiener
WC: Jesus has a wiener?
kyky: yup
kyky: its huge too
WC: so it's more like a smokie then?
kyky: not only is he the son of god, but also has a giant cock
WC: HE HAS A ROOSTER TOO?
kyky: a smokie combined with a footlong
kyky: boooo
WC: so like a smokie and a footlong glued together?
WC: by the ends or by the sides?
kyky: so basically a giant sub sandwich coming at you
WC: PARTY SUB!
kyky: yup
kyky: i mean they don't say it specifically in the bible
kyky: but its implied
WC: I really want to go to heaven now...
kyky: you know how i know you're gay?
WC: I want to go to heaven?
kyky: you wanna go to heaven so jesus can ram his party subbing wiener in yer ass

and this is what my work day consists of. so maybe it's not really that bad after all.

it has a kind of rythmic flow...

for whatever reason, i just seem to be craving fruit. all fruit. ok not all. i am a slight fruit bigot. i refuse to eat pears. and cherries. altho i love cherry flavored things, i refuse to eat them raw. once, when i was small, my father took us to his friends property to pick cherries off the tree. we picked buckets and buckets full, all the while stuffing our faces with cherries. when we got all the buckets home, my mum started washing the fruit. she discovered that each shiny red orb was infected with at least 3 worms. it makes me retch to think about it. and pears. growing up, we had a pear tree in the yard. every year, when those stupid pears were ripe, we'd have to eat them. blech. i never liked them. they're stringy and fibre-y and taste like bear-ass. or what i imagine bear-ass might taste like. maybe i should ask and ass-pert, so aaron next time i see him.
maybe it's the weather thats got me all fruit hungry. perhaps i long for the hot summer nights, sitting on a patio, eating ice cold watermelon. thats right, i said ice cold. generally, as a rule, i refuse to eat cold vegetables and fruit. not because i'm a giant diva, but because i have sensitive teeth. whatever. so i won't eat things like cold carrots from the fridge, or salad - well, i really hate salad regardless. lettuce is the worst veggie in my opinion. not very filling, barely any nutritional value. oh, and no taste. maybe that tastes like bear-ass too. another question to run by aaron. where was i? oh right. ice cold watermelon. there really is nothing better. it really is one of the only things i will eat chilled. you know, fruit and veggitially speaking. i have been known to warm a salad in the microwave, just enough so its room temp. i like my sandwiches on the warm side too. and no, eff-asses, i do not heat up my ice cream. dairy and i had a falling out some time ago. i'm waiting for an apology. but the dairy is a stubborn breed. lazy too. it is quite possible we shall never speak again. it's cousin, yogurt, and i get along quiet nicely. well, except for a few minor incidents here and there. but what relationship doesn't have its issues? sigh, i effing miss u, come home baby. we can make it work. i can change, i swear i can. we can go to counseling, take supplements. maybe have a threesome with some fruit? hmm? would that make you happy? you always said i wasn't adventurous enough. and then you hooked up with that whey - that no good for nothing dirty son of an effer. how could you do that to me? and we had lil' ones at home to? how could you just do that to your family. well you know what? screw you! you can go eff yourself! eff yourself right in your effing pants. i hope you and your dirty mothereffer are quite happy effing together. watch your effing back. you'll get yours.....

it's medium not a grande you dumb mothereffer

so i tried to watch casino royale last night. what a giant piece of crap. after 30 minutes i'd had enough and went on to better and funner things. so, uh, sleeping. it lacked a certain something for me. say, dialog. maybe they spent too much money on the special effects and forgot to budget for actual words. and daniel craig is not very, uh, bond-like. which is too say, attractive in any way. at least the other 007's had a certain type of appeal, you know, a sexy appeal. daniel is just kinda lumpy. weathered. he should be playing the part of the Fisherman, in boating movies. you know, the wise and grizzled sea captain, who always has something clever or profound to say and in the end gets eaten. as he's being pulled down into the depths of the ocean, his last words, "metallica rules..." can just barely be heard above the roar of the ocean, which is his mistress as well. so i guess i see him as an old ocean humper. spreading his seed amongst the algae and uh, manatees. and then there's a huge custody battle over the half grizzled sea captain and half slimy manatee kids. its get all very dramatic. oh, and he gets eaten by a liger shark. which is really the best shark of all. part tiger, part lion and all shark. man, i would pay 10's of cents to watch that. it sounds like a effingly good movie. i bet its already being made. i seem to catch on to things mid-stream, if you will. and this morning i am esp. tired. so jebus himself could come up to me on the street and i'd just say, "no dude, i don't have any change" except that he'd be offering me the golden fleece or a picnic basket full of orgasms. so then he'd just give it to some hobo that stumbled by. eff. i always miss out on the good stuff.

everybody was christal punching

hmm, looks like i haven't my blog in a while. oops. oh well. the only thing i did this weekend was move. whee. i hate moving. hate it with a fiery passion. hate it like i hate plaid on plaid or nose pickers. or chicks that wear skirts over pants - seriously, no one can pull that off. ok, tiny adorable ESL-ers from asianic places can, but normal white folk cannot. trust me on this one. it's like whities sportin' dreads. dear god no. if i see you, i will heckle.
anyhoo, no one likes to move. it's dirty and smelly and an eff of a lot of work. plus you get those not so fun surprises. like when a removable shelf comes flying at you and the corner of it takes a chunk out of your hip. altho it left this crazy circle of veins in its wake. and a big bruise. maybe the circle of vein-ity is unrelated. perhaps i suddenly caught lime's disease. heh, lime. and i couldn't even brace myself, cause all i did to anger the effing shelf was open the effing truck door. eff-face. but its cool. karma spread the eff around, by nailing kev in the shin with a dolly. judging by his reaction, it hurt. most likely like a mother effer. i can't say if it hurt more or less than a shelf corner to the hip. hard to say. 'cause metal hurts. but a flying piece of pressboard hurtling at you unexpectedly is just no effing good. it just isn't. stupid pressboardians. exporting all their pressboard shit. making honest and cheap canadians purchase it. actually, i believe it was an ikea shelf. perhaps that this the plan o' the swedes: to make reasonably priced, moderately attractive, pressboard whatnots. have them injure people, slowly, one by effing one. and once everyone is maimed or crippled, they roll in on their fat 3-wheelers with chrome spinners and a really bitching PA system - you know, so they can heckle or catcall as they drive on by - and take over the joint. effholes. where do they get off doing that. and its always them too. shifty swedes. i think i'll go find a sedin to kick. uh, and then run away. cause i saw one of them at ikea once - i know, super funny, he was buying a giant cart full of swedish crap - and he wasn't that tall, but solid. gd it - that swede was a sturdy man shaped tube of muscle. but with arms and legs and facial hair and whatnot. you know, the usual. but muscle-y. even his eyes bulged with muscle. i bet those bad boys could bench like 180. i eff you not.

this is CAKETOWN!!!

not sure why people have to be such jerks. in my office, every thursday, we have a lunch & learn. this entails everyone gathering in one spot for a free lunch and some learning. altho we rarely learn - we generally just eat and run. in the afternoons, we get cake. why? why the eff not? everyone likes cake. i, especially, enjoy free cake. which it is. the money for the food doesn't come out of my paycheck, i don't have to put money in a jar to cover it. its free. FREE. this week we had pizza. people whined cause they didn't like the place it came from. fine. its still free. and more importantly, they still ate it. one guy, while he was waiting in line for the free pizza, ranted about how much he hated the pizza, then loaded up his plate with at least 4 pieces. super funny. its like in junior high when this girl was eating fries and in between bites kept going on about how gross they were. but she didn't bother to put them down. kept right on eating. even ate the tiny burnt bits at the bottom. yup. must have been super gross.
on to cake time. standing in the kitchen with whitecake - who ordered the cake, he's a co-op, that's his job - making tea for my free cake, crazy russian lady gets right in his face and starts ranting loudly and in a crazy accent about crappy the cake is. something along the lines of "I do not like zee cake, not enuf moose und squirrel" ok, the moose and squirrel were added in. but i someday would like to hear her mention something about moose and squirrels. anyhow, she's asking if the cake is cheaper and why we stopped ordering from the other cake place - which, BTW, was hugely expensive and not real cake, tasty, but not really cake - all the while holding a plate with a giant piece of cake on it. i was sort of surprised by her at first. whitecake seemed to be taking things in a goodnatured type of fashion. you know, laughing to cover up his obvious hate for the woman and her erroneous stance on the cake. i chime in with "well, you don't have to eat it..." and she kind of looked at me, then kept right on ranting about it. eating and ranting. but seriously she didn't buy the cake. her paycheck in no way went towards the cake. and really, no one held a gun to her damn head telling her to each the damn cake or they'd kill her and all the moose and squirrels. some people are just jerks by nature. and really, free cake is effing free cake. eat it or don't. but don't whine about something you didn't ask for and aren't being forced to eat.
now click the link the see the trailer for the movie 300 redone PG style.
link

eat at roybertito's

not entirely sure why it has to be so god damn arctic effing cold in my office. but it is. and i understand that i have a colder temperature disposition than most people, but holy hell. does the AC need to be on in march? it does not. my fingernails are blue. i almost think that if i wasn't typing this i'd be on the floor, shivering, then convulsing, then finally dying of hypothermia. altho on the plus side, i get to drink a lot of tasty tea to keep me warm. i'll get a nice cup of jasmine, and huddle around it, waiting for my fingers to unfreeze so i can continue on with my job. also then i get to use my super cute mug from starbucks. yes yes, they are the devil, but they make a mighty adorable mug. except it's really effing heavy. i kinda knew that when it was being bought. but its awesomicity cancelled out of that nonsense. but when i first filled it and tried to walk back to my desk, it almost took my arm off. luckily the cup gets so hot that it would have cauterized the wound so everything would have turned out fine. but still. how can starbucks make a mug that gets stupid hot but are unable to make a latte hotter than lukewarm? what if you had just purchased a latte. you calmly stroll outside and boom. you get mugged. instead of giving up your goods, you decide to throw the latte in his face - 'cause muggers are always dudes - and basically, the guy laughs in your face, punches you in baby maker and steals your wallet. effing starbucks. or what if you and your SO bought lattes together and he picks that moment to tell you he cheated. normal response would be to throw whatever's handy. but no one learns from a lukewarm latte. if you take anything away from my blog, i hope it's that. NO ONE LEARNS FROM A LUKEWARM LATTE.

i fought the eff....

gah. you know when you're at work, but you don't wanna be at work? and you'd rather be at home, but you can't cause its monday and therefore a work day. and tho you really want to be unemployed, you've become accustomed to a certain way of life. maybe you like to eat non-dumpster type food. maybe you like clean clothes. altho really, some people who have money neither eat good food nor wear clean clothes. whether that's for lack of washing machine know-how and food cookery or sheer laziness is up to you to judge whence you see their grimy lil' undernourished behinds cross your path. think of all the things you could be doing today. maybe you like to go outside - you could be doing that, but you're at work. maybe you like to watch tv - but you can't - work. now in the rare case that you actually like your job and wouldn't rather be anywhere else on this entire effing earth, to you i say, with the warmest of hugs and pats on the back, go eff yourselves. seriously. you are an effing a-hole. and if you ever show your effing face around me, i will punch you so hard in the eff that you will never eff your effing eff ever again. you get that? did you hear me? did you pick up what i was putting down. no one likes your kind. i bet you're also the type of person that wakes up in the morning full of life and wonderment. maybe you sing in the shower. maybe you pet your dog or kiss your SO like you mean it. maybe you need to throw yourselves off an effing cliff. the rest of world rolls out of bed, grunts at their dog/SO/kidlets and showers for 30min attempting to wake themselves up. or drown themselves. you know, just a little so you can call in drowned, thus further extending your weekend. then you could stretch out on your couch, watch some tv,and laugh at all those poor eff-sters that had to go into the office.

weekends, effing weekends

wow. you know how you get really excited for something and you plan and you plot and you think about how good it will be? and then you find out the movie doesn't come out for another effing month. gd it. i was already planning who i was gonna go with - you know rally the other ATHF troops and make an evening of it. i had decided, in my mind, where i would sit, even my movie snack of choice - which is generally the kids pack of popcorn, you get just the right amount of popcorn so your ass keeps its effing mouth shut, a little bit of pop, sometimes even in a kicky lil' collector cup and a candy treat. what could be effing better? nothing. sigh. i wish i had never found out there'd be an aqua teen hunger force movie coming out. then when it hit theatres, i'd be all, "wow, an ATHF movie! that's fantastic. i'm sure i glad i didn't know about it before hand, 'cause the anticipation might have effed me". and i really wish i had read the release date correctly. gah. my own stupidity effed me. effed me good. effed me right in the pants. like i've never been effed before. it gave me such and effing i won't be able to eff for another week. heh. ok, i'm not that mad, i just wanted an excuse to use lots of eff type phrases. i've been saving them up. and they needed to be effed out. i guess i just wanted to flex my eff muscle. or my effscle, if you will. but not to be confused with effsicle. entirely different. seriously. and in no way similar.

unicorn? not unihorn?

ahh, the sun is shining and everything is warm and fuzzy. it's spring. so you know what that means. the bees will soon be hot after that sweet, sweet bird ass. once they do it, it will be summer. as i understand it, that's how summer happens. when the birds and bees do it. also, there might be a unicorn involved. altho, i'm not quite sure how he fits in. maybe he watches? which is actually quite creepy. i mean, birds and bees doing it isn't the most normal thing you could think about. the logistics alone are enough to make you wonder "what the eff..." or "how the eff..." but actually standing there and watching it? eww. unicorns are such perverts. especially that one unicorn, Stan. he's the worst. always clip-clopping by my window in the morning, trying to catch a glimpse of my pasty winter ass just after i've showered. and there was that one time he broke into my place, i guess he used his corn to pick my doorlock, and i found him passed out in a pile of my undies. i had to get every single one of those replaced. hoof prints and torn corn marks all over 'em. expensive day. i would've had him buy me new ones, but i didn't wanna take the chance that he'd sniff them, or worse, before i got them. gah. effing perverts.

2 wycked

so i guess i've been a bit lazy in my postings lately. it's pretty much been raining for a million days straight and i just didn't feel like being clever, or witty or trying to make you feel better when i was feeling rained out and cranky. but there's this weird color in the sky right now. its kind of cheerful. if my stupid co-worker wasn't trying to gas me with her effing perfume, i'd almost be able to say that i felt ok. however, she is. and i kind of hate her. that is all. i'm still not at 100% rant. maybe my lunch will suck today and i can bitch about that. hmm. there is this bright non rain filtering in through my window. now i don't wanna alarm anyone. perhaps its just the terrorists, but maybe its not. it seems familiar somehow, like i've seen it before. i have this crazy urge to run outside and roll around in it. uh, just soak it up. cause if you're rolling around on the streets of van, you're not gonna get sun all over you, its gonna be dog pee and hobo semen. oh, and maybe a dirty needle will stick you in the ass or something. or just be all rusty and then you'd have to go for a tetanus shot. and then you'd have to wait for like 30 hours in the emergency room, while other people coughed and spewed all sorts of other germs on you. getting sicker waiting to get better. ich. germs are gross. things that ooze are gross. also, things that drip are gross. imagine if something was ooze-y and drip-y and germ-y. damn. i'd probably barf. maybe its a good thing i don't get sick more often. no one likes an ooze-y, drip-y, germ-y co-worker.

lunch update

the place in question is actually called Amigos Cafe @ 518 Richards. i remembered that i took their take-out menu in my bag so next time i could just order ahead.
oh, and whitecake was finally able to taste his food...i'll let you imagine how...

barfing makes you pretty, right?

good lord. i guess karma just kicked me in the ass. or maybe the universe thinks it funny to give a really wicked kickass type breakfast and then a horrible horrible barf-up of a lunch. i'm mostly a good person. i try to be nice (ish). i go to work, participate in society, help tiny old people cross the street, rescue puppies or whatever. i don't see why i had to be subjected to this sort of atrocity. here's my story. lunchtime rolled and i was getting hungry. i ichatted up a couple of coworker buddies and we decided to go to a new mexican place that just opened up on richards and pender - amigas, i believe its called. so we trek over there. past the homeless begging for change, past the idiot SUV drivers trying to run our asses over. we finally get there - hungry and cold and wet (cause it's vancouver and winter and therefore the city is just a giant puddle.) the place looks ok from the outside, non-descript, but also kind of welcoming. we go inside, and its warm. but it doesn't smell all that food-y, you know, like a restaurant should. that should have been my tipoff. restaurants that don't smell like food are obviously just drug fronts, and don't really make any kind of usable food item. buy your drugs there, sure, but don't order any food. anyway, enough digression, we all order our food - there are 5 of us, but we decide it prolly won't take too long as the place looks slightly fast foody, and fast food is generally very aptly named. 45 minutes later we finally all get our food. 2 had already deserted us - took their food and ran. but i don't blame then, i would have done the same.
my bag seems heavy, and i'm somewhat excited about what is to come. will it be the magical mexican sandwich that i have been promised? a combination of beans and wonderment? or a kick in the pants? after waiting 45 min. i'm really just hoping for something halfway decent. we get back to the lunchroom and i open the bag. no food smell. i look more closely at the sandwich - it looks like it might be good - it seems to have all the goodness-inducing ingredients: roasted veggies, guac, beans, cheese and pineapple (strange, but i'm willing to give it a go). i take a bite. and wait for the flavor. i swallow. still waiting. i take another bite. still nothing. puzzled, i deconstruct the sandwich and taste each of the layers. the beans are the first to be tasted. it's like i just licked my finger, and my finger had some air on it. next i try the roasted veggies, hard to go wrong with a roasted green pepper, right? wrong, its tastes kinda bad. but i guess when you combine it with other things that don't taste like anything, the bad taste gets cancelled out. i won't go into every layer, but let's just say eating a big bag of air would have tasted better and have been cheaper. i ate the sandwich, i won't lie to you. i was hungry, and i'm cheap, i hate spending money on things only to throw them away. the last 2 bites of the sandwich had some flavor - tasted like fried bread. and it was kinda greasy by this point too. i guess gravity grabbed all the grease from the top of the sandwich and pulled it all to the bottom - you know, what gravity normally does.
after i was done eating, i felt dirty, like my stomach had been violated. i just sat there, trying to understand why. i slowly got up from the table, gathered my garbage and threw it away, and with it, my sandwich-y innocence. its been an hour now, and my insides still don't feel right. i feel greasy and let down, like i've just eaten a fried bag of puppies. i'm still toying with the idea of barfing it up and taking a mulligan on lunch altogether. but my penny-pinching ways won't let me. maybe i'm punishing myself for something. i guess i should just forget it and move on. but it's hard, ya know? i wanted to throw a bone to a new business, take a chance on the unknown. and i got effed. that mexican place effed me so hard, effed me like i've never been effed before. and let that be a lesson to you kids, try something new and you'll get effed.

my buddy whitecake, had this to say about lunch:
"I like to eat, I also like the women's. Throughout my life I have
struggled with these two passions because, understandably, the
women's don't like the fat guys. However, thanks to today's lunch at
Amigas, my dilemma has been resolved. I now hate eating, and may or
may not be slightly impotent."

let it snow, let it effing snow

holy crap - i just ate the best effing breakfast ever. so good, in fact, that i'd like to barf it up just so i can eat it again. here's my breaky breakdown: toasted 'everything bagel' (that's basically a bagel they rubbed on the seed leavings on the factory floor, a mishmash of every seed Dempsters crams on a bagel. this includes but does not exclude, sesame seeds, poppy seeds, onion bits and uh, whatever else was handy, you know, misc. seeds, and things of that nature) with a mashed up avocado on top (avocado was mashed with just a lil' salt n peppa to taste). gd it, 'twas the best breaky i've had all week.

maybe i'll post something more exciting later. and maybe i won't. screw you if you think i owe you anything. what am i? your gd mother-effing monkey? huh? dance monkey dance! you shout. and i oblige. i weep and oblige. and i plot my revenge...

oh, and i'd like to give a shout out to my good buddy kat. she's on a plane right now, hurtling towards mexico. lucky bitch... did i mention that it snowed today? and it's mother-effing march? yeah. that stupid, lying, no good for anything groundhog. i'm gonna hunt that son of a bitch down and kick it. you know, for all the lying. damn liar. i was gonna use 'mother-effing liar', but i sort of figured i've used that quite an effing bit already. and the day is super effing young still. i kinda gotta save up all my effing effs, you know, so they don't lose their effing effectiveness. heh, thats a good word, effectiveness, already has eff in it. comes pre-effed, one could say. heh. pre-effed. just like...(insert dirty whoever joke in here. too many to really pin down a good one.).

flesh gordon, here i come...

heh. so clearing space off of my computer, i came across a doc my buddy johnny and i were working on while bored at work one day. try not to steal it tho, i'll know you did, and it'll just lead to a bunch of ass kicking. not mine. yours. just wanted to make sure you understood that.

The Adventures of Thrust Feelgood and Ram Cox

Thrust Feelgood - main character
Ram Cox - trusty sidekick
Pamela Harder - fluff reporter who wants to be legit;love interest for Thrust
April Faster - beat reporter, career comp for pam
Randy Gay - police commisioner
Baron von Hardoff - Thrusts' arch enemy
Misti Bush - just a funny name so far
Virginia Swallowes - see above
Geneva Brownstar - yup
WHIP - network where pam and april work
Randy family - Most prominent and upstanding family in town
Stan - cameraman; lesser degree superhero with useless powers
hugh jackoff - misc.
Lance Member - misc.
Michael Testi - misc
Rock Harder - brother of pam

misc. lines:
Harder and Faster with The Whip
where does that music keep coming from?

episode ideas:
episode 1: von Hardoff releases the virus while Thrust and Ram struggle to find the cure, with sexy results
episode 2 : thrust feelgood and the search for the sacred meadow
episode 3: thrust feelgood and Ram Cox in "The pole smoking caper"

fine. its a porno script. you caught me. but it's damn funny. turns out i'm a whiz at thinking up dirty names. i know, i'm shocked SHOCKED that i have that ability. enjoy....

speaking of which....gotta go!

why is it so hard for a person not to destroy a public bathroom when they're done using it. do these people also spray pee all over their seats at home and leave it for someone else to clean? are they so proud of the loaf that just sprung from their nether regions that they don't flush so that others may also marvel at the size/color/texture/smell of the BM as well? at a previous job, a woman went so far as to actually poop on the seat of the toilet and the leave it there. for someone else to clean up. maybe she didn't notice it lying there when she flushed? or again, was she so proud at her poop that she wanted others to see and revel in all its poopness. i understand that poop and pee is kinda gross. unless you have that kind of fetish, which, well, more power to ya, but keep your excess fluids away from me. but if it's shooting forth from your body, then really, it's yours, so less gross than random poop you might find lying in alley or squelching out of a hobo or even lying in that flaming bag on your doorstep. so really, just clean it the fuck up. wrap your hand in 30 layers of toilet paper and just suck it up and do it. everybody poops, a book once informed me of this. so you're not weird or immoral or a whore just 'cause you poop or pee. no one's gonna think less of you just 'cause you do. but if i ever find out who in my office is missing the bowl completely and just letting it pool on the seat, i will kick you square in the baby-maker.

rant the day away...

why is that people wear so much goddamn perfume/cologne. maybe they accidentally broke the bottle on themselves. maybe they bathed in it. maybe it was a gift from their significant other and they feel obligated to wear it. oh, and the SO would have no nose 'cause generally those that really splash it on, splash on crap. seriously. at least if you're on the bus or somewhere more public, you can just move and get away from them. well, cough, glare, mutter obscenities under your breath and then move. but when you're at work and you have your desk all set up, you know, just the way you like it, there's no getting away from it. maybe you have a kickie calendar up, perhaps quizzing you about the latest this or that. maybe you have some nice figurines or whatever - you know, stuff that makes life at work more bearable. and then some jackass shows up, wreaking of perfume-y ass, and your day is ruined. hard to concentrate when you can taste it. at least if it was BO you might be able to respect the person. maybe they just ran a marathon. for charity. a charity for under-privilged dogs or canaries that lost a wing in Nam. there is just no excuse to show up smelly. actually, i take it back about the BO. no one wants to sit next to your smelly ass, whether it be perfume, BO or hair. ick. hair. don't get me started on that...

moving on....

hard to come back from a post like the previous. i guess that's why i've sort of avoided it up til now. also i didn't really have anything useful to rant about. ok, i totally did. but just wasn't in the mood to write it down.

saturday was my buddy's bday. good times were had by all. we laughed, we cried, bras were unhooked, cleav shots were taken, assless chaps were discussed. except they wouldn't really be assless - the dude in question is italian. click the link to see pics of the big night. link goes to bday boy's site. i'll have my own photos up when i figure out how to get them off the camera. damn technology.....

link

my favorite ed

yeah. so no post yesterday. a friend of mine from webct died. he was possibly the nicest person you could ever meet. he will be missed.

baldy! hey baldy!

so this guy i know is running for some kind of office in some pissant little community. whoopie. i couldn't give a crap about politics. i mean, i vote and have opinions, i just choose to not shove them in any one else's face. like religion. personally, i think its a load of hooey. some guy way back when thought it was a good way to milk people out of money. the first ron l. hubbard, if you will. altho ron was smart, in that he only goes after the super rich and crazy. hell, i should start my own religion. i need some extra cash. i have places to go and houses to buy. i think my religion will involve and all-knowing giraffe that uses its antlers to see if you are worthy or not of the ju-hew (this is the sacred land of the ancient Reeors (a proud and private people, very sacred - i shouldn't need to explain this), and if you are deemed worthy enough, you get live and frolic there after your Menty - or soul, for all us not-in-the-know folk - frees itself from the shackles that is this existence. the hallmark of my religion will be battle royale that ensues when one believer challenges another for the Beeuza (keep reading, it gets explained, what am i? your mommy?). they will throw down highlander style and the winner will gain the ultimate of all prizes, an inanimate carbon rod. for this is where all life came from. the bounty of the rod is great and all powerful. all bow before the carbon rod. parades shall be held in its honor. and on the 4th day of the 10th month, a saviour shall be born who will rein terrible fire and peril on the world. but she will be subdued with offerings of the monetary and beerliore variety. and the order and balance of this great planet will be restored. any takers? no? ah, ok then.

a 4 yr old stole my socks this weekend....

ever raged at your coworker 'cause he laughed at a dilbert cartoon? i have. mostly i just hate dilbert. really. it's not funny. it's like office space. NOT FUNNY. people always try and tell me that if you work in an office, you should find both dilbert and office space funny. i don't. and i don't care. i've given the movie 2 viewings, and still, i feel nothing. it's over-hyped and completely un-hilarious. dilbert, i've glanced at it on numerous occasions. and each time, much like after breaking down and reading the family circus, i tried to find a way to get that minute of my life back. but it was gone. wasted on crappy unfunny pieces of crap. more power to the authors tho. if i could write a giant piece of crap and live off it, you bet your sweet ass i'd do it. i tried to pitch a cartoon about a time traveling lobster and his sidekick, bleeorp the mermaid, but no one would touch it. commies.

the who man who wasn't pregnant but then was...and couldn't slow down or he'd blow up

the other day, at the neko show, we went for crepes and beer first. well, some had beer, others had pitcher of long island ice tea. anyway. during the course of the drinking, i started to think about the obese. if a dude gets fat does his wiener also get chunky? and how about the ladies? do big ladies also have giant outer lady parts? maybe we'll never know the answer. maybe we're not meant to know. maybe the lesson is just to not gain weight lest you have giant, chunky genitalia.
also, i found the best book title ever - A Hand in the Bush: The Fine Art of Vaginal Fisting by Deborah Addington. just thought i'd share. it's available on amazon.com. you know, for all your fisting know-how needs.

frogs and snakes are gonna get John this time

so basically i've slacked off on my blog already. 3 days in and i've lost interest. well, not really, just kinda busy. tuesday i was getting my doors blown off at the neko case show and last night was VD. that's valentine's day and not venereal disease. altho i bet someone somewhere celebrated by getting syphilis. yay random hookers! poor lil' stevie. all alone with his syph. and on his birthday... but back to neko. she's fantastic. altho her show was not that rocking. it was more swaying. and i did sway my ass off. pretty uneventful, except for the fight KD tried to start with a couple of lesbos.

sadly, that was the best pic i took of neko at the show. i wasn't that far but my camera is kinda crappy. oh well, the people in front of me were funny. so i guess they deserve to be on my blog?

porkchop sandwiches

i love a good sandwich. what i love even more than a good sandwich, is a good sandwich and a bowl of good soup. when good soup and good sandwiches combine forces, it kicks the level of good up to fantastic. this is a rare occurrence. generally, you can get a good sandwich or good soup. but you can't have both. and i'm starting to think i'll never have that level of fantastical-ism ever again. today, for instance, i had a good sandwich from Bambo Cafe. i won't go into further detail as i don't wanna make gwili mad - he has the monopoly on lunch review blogs, and i hear he'll pee all over you if you encroach on his bid-ness or get all up in his grill. back to my original point. sandwich good, soup terrible. really bad. watery and it kinda smelled like alley. like wet dog and alley and hobo-ass mixed together. ok, not really, but it was bad soup. i think i have made my point.

whoowhoo

i always made fun of people who had blogs. thought to myself 'what's so damn interesting about them that they need to share it with the internet? stupid jerks, full of themselves, selfish bastards..." and now i have one. so listen up jerks. or i guess, read up, jerks. i agonized over a theme for my blog too. but i think i was putting too much pressure on myself. i think i'll just post whatever the hell i want. it is my blog, and i answer to no one. a lone wolf... man, remember those sweatshirts that had wildlife on it that old ladies and the fashionally retarded wear? sometimes they were pink? mostly they were just ugly? yeah. my blog'll be kinda like that.