Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Disco Blood

There was a time before all the poppin' and lockin'. Back when an ordinary goofball could get out on the dance floor shake whichever body part was still functioning and it would be applauded. I'm waiting for those times to make a comeback.
These were not highly coordinated dance moves, almost none of it was predetermined or practiced. Moves that drunk white boys could mimic with their heads held high and slurring.

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Stitch This

I want to know what normal people think about when they drive by a hospital.
You know that there are people in there getting ripped from the V to the A while giving birth. Others are in the emergency section for anything from massive life threatening wounds to nausea. And even others are lying around in those auto beds waiting for death.
You have to figure that if you're driving past the hospital, you're probably doing better than any of the people stuck in there. Unless of course you got in a fight at a Polish Chili Cook-off Fight Club and are driving home with a wooden ladle shoved half way up your ass to get your great grand mama's secret recipe and put those Polack's in their place. In which case, those kids with chicken pox are kicking your ass in the feel good department.

Thursday, December 26, 2013


I'm pretty sure, as in almost positive that a woman came up with the idea of wedding/baby announcements.
Not because guys don't care, obviously we need to care, at least a little, on some level we made a decision to do one of those two things.
Women want the world to know. They are excited, but they also locked it down, or they won a trophy in the baby race. Guys will just throw it out casually in conversation, it takes a different sort of crazy to get us billboard excited. It's weird.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Elf on the Shelf....

It was Christmas Eve, and like every year, I woke up with that sense that magic was in the air...but there was something else. Something sinister hung over me that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Like I was being watched.
Throughout the entire morning I felt that feeling of creeping dread. Going about my morning routine I noticed what had been eluding me.

He called himself an elf but his eyes told a different story. I saw sorrow in those eyes. Sorry and an eternity of pain. When I approached the question of his origin he quickly changed the subject. "A storm is coming," he told me in a bright high pitched voice. The smile though...the smile never faded, and a sliver of doubt grew in my heart.
"You must train!" he told me, and train I would. With that never fading twinkle in his eye he led me to a room I had never seen before in my own house, a room with some futuristic equipment meant to strengthen the human body beyond our own means. Train I must, so train I shall.

I could feel the energy draining from my body. What was this horrible contraption? The strength was being zapped from me, not stored within. When I questioned it, the Elf only smiled his bland smile and told me to ride on. We would feast after, and that would regain my senses.
It was at the table I realized this wasn't the helpful friendly Elf he had claimed to be. No dinner awaited me and the tiny figure sat across the table with his locked in smile and wide blue eyes. Fear struck me then and I demanded for him to tell me what it was he really wanted from me. Why had he come here?
"Every year I must collect a soul." was the Elf's cheery reply. Sweat broke out on my face and it could have been my imagination but his smile seemed to grow wider.
"Let me get you another soul," I told him. We can sit and discuss this like civilized individuals. He only nodded, but he joined me in the kitchen.
Negotiations broke down before they even began. The foul creature had pocketed a steak knife in his, his; well he had been hiding it somewhere and his dead eyes smiled up at me when he produced it.
"We don't have to do this." I pleaded. "Look at yourself, I could swat you as if you were an inanimate plush toy."
But the decision had already been made, and he was on me in the blink of an eye, his speed was unfathomable.

I was on the ground screaming before I could even react.
The first cut was light and quick but the others...the bastard was gaining momentum.
"Your soul!" He demanded in his high pitched voice as if it was an option for me to just turn it over. The blood was wet and warm on my face and after grappling I finally got a hold of his tiny body. I did the only thing, I could think of. I fought.

The first instinct was to push. I out weighted the little sucker by at least 250 pounds. So with all my strength, I swung forward and launched the little demon. But it wasn't enough. His speed was his weapon and before I could take a breath he had me back on the ground begging for air.
The air seemed to escape me, as if there wasn't enough to go around. Then I realized that he had his tiny soft hands around my neck and the pressure there was soft but life threatening. Struggling for consciousness my vision blurred, would this been the end? A tiny soul collector was going to meet his quota with me? One final breath.
It was gingerbread. Of Course! I had put in gingerbread cookies before my training. Summoning every ounce of strength that remained, 
I carried out my last attack.
We were both screaming as he went in head first. The creature figured it had already won. As he burned his tiny cute voice changed to a dark deeper one, and he revealed to me that he was indeed a minion of hell. In his final breath he assured me that his brothers would come for me. And that he would be the one to taste my soul in the end.
So I did what any man would do. I enjoyed some gingerbread and prepared for battle.
It didn't take long. They came for me the following morning, when I went to bury the Elf. Christmas Day.


Monday, December 23, 2013

That Faint Tingling Feeling

Do you ever find yourself getting struck by a memory like a hammer to the back of the head?
I was walking through a department store and noticed the changing rooms were old school and had that 12 inch gap at the bottom of the door. When I was a young tot(maybe an old tot, 13 or so) I remember sitting outside those style of changing rooms getting my brothers their school clothes, and on occasion a woman would go in and from under the door you could see the pants come off.
Remember, you're really only seeing exposed ankle, however to a boy being hit with a tidal wave of hormones this was the closest I'd ever been to seeing a girl half naked. It was awe inspiring.
So ladies, next time you find yourself in an old school changing room just think, you could be making young men's dreams come true.

Friday, December 20, 2013

Stupid Christmas

Apparently there is an attack on Christmas. I didn't know, since it is the largest celebrated holiday in the US of A. Looking into this I found that there are atheist groups that are bitching about the separation of  church and state and wanting nativities taken off of government grounds.
Listen, I'm all about the separation, but who gives half a shit if a baby Jesus and a menorah are represented? As long as no one is left out, it's not a big deal is it? Don't worry atheist groups(which has to be the lamest group meeting on the planet) you're represented. See right over there between the light up dreidel and the Christmas tree, there's a big empty space to represent your lack of any religion.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Duck, Duck, Oops

There once was a CEO of a chicken restaurant that claimed his religious beliefs forced him to detest homosexuality. The CEO of a duck call company recently compared homosexuality to terrorism. Due to these people hiding behind religion, they are continually supported for "Speaking up for their beliefs." Are you fucking kidding me?
What if these same people had claimed that there was no God? How many of those same people would be supporting them then?
Duck Dynasty is a show based completely around Christian conservatism so it's no surprise that the Christian community is backing ol' Phil Robertson. There are a couple other things Mr. Robertson may want to consider. Homosexuality is not a choice. Condemning someone because of how they were born is the same as being racist. You get all grossed out do you? I'm pretty sure people would get grossed out watching you fuck too, so we'll call it even on that one.
Another thing it says in the bible is to pray in private, not in the streets. When it talks about praying in your closet I don't think there is any way to misinterpret that into making millions of dollars off of a television show praying on camera for that paycheck.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

The Remote

I want to send out a personal thank you to whoever decided we need remote controls for everything. Some individual decided that sitting in leisure was not as good as CONSTANTLY sitting in leisure. The original remote was called The Lazy Bones and had a cord that ran to the TV, like old school video game controllers. But that wasn't good enough for Eugene Polley, he and Zenith wanted full disconnection. This of course paved way for the controlled lighting, music systems, and bark collars.
Fast forward 55 years and we can pretty much sit anywhere and control everything. Thank you Mr. Polley for advancing our laziest inhibitions. I'm going to nuke some lunch and have it delivered by drone to my Lazy Boy.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Merry Christmas

Who decided that Santa needs elves? This is eerily close to child labor and on another note, why would elves hang out at the North Pole? Is it because they are tiny and adorable? Is it because the world turned against them as man evolved? Their small bodies acted as miniature walking heaters? They became nomadic wanderers fleeing from their homes as the humans encroached on their tiny elven cities? Only to find a leader in an elder gentlemen who reformed them for good? Or maybe it was only to seem good at face value. Maybe Santa will one day raise up with his army of elves and attack the world of men. Maybe this Christmas will be our last.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Nut Crackin

At what point did people decide that kitchen tools need to have faces?
I see dishes, dish towels, wine openers, spoons, coffee mugs, ice cream scoops, etc.  Why do people insist on sticking someone else's head in their food?
Nutcrackers are the worst. Not only are they an entire body, but you actually feed them your nuts. Then they get nut sprinkles everywhere and you have broken nuts all over the counter. No sir, I'm not putting my nuts in the wooden vice face of Santa's elves, I'll crack them myself thank you.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Seeing Double

Think about the saying, "If I could only be in two places at once,". What would that look like for you? Would you get work done and have family time simultaneously? Would you double down on work and roll in money with yourself at the end of the day?
I would just fuck with people, have a conversation with someone, get in a car an drive off, then tap them on the shoulder Back to the Future style. Maybe stuff myself from a buffet and tag myself in until I bankrupt the place.
That's why I wasn't born with a twin I think. It wouldn't end well. We would just chase people down the street screaming like we were from Body Snatchers.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Why So Different?

Have you ever been wandering though a crowded area, say a mall and seen someone that just looked stupid? Not just stupid, the point of stupid where you want to punch them in the face or toss them over a banister and watch the wind catch their horrible haircut as they plummet three floors into the middle of the food court. How did we get to that point? How does someone go from goo goo gaa gaa, I want to be every ones friend and I love hugs to, "Is he wearing a band shirt I don't like? Fuck that guy!"

Was it a gradual change? Say, I don't want to share my star wars toys with this kid who loves Power Rangers, then I associate everyone who looks like power rangers kid to being a piece of shit? It could be just one day someone pushes us too far and we discover pure completely biased hate.

Hang on to that thought, some douche just ordered a different coffee than me, his face needs punching.

Monday, December 2, 2013

Changing Rooms

Through the holidays I found myself once again in a fitting room trying on possible new clothes. There are several reasons I don't like fitting rooms such as trying not to think about how many disgusting people have sat in the chair/bench in the process of trying on new pants. On a deeper level I have a odd irrational fear of fitting rooms. No matter what, when I try on new pants I have to check the mirror six or seven times before exiting to make sure I'm wearing pants, and they're mine. I can look in the mirror and touch them making sure I'm wearing pants but as soon as that door comes open I have to turn around and check a couple more times that my pud isn't hanging out.