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Don't be an asshope

Thursday, February 11th, 2010

Twice before, I've talked about the Washington Post Mensa Invitational. The Invitational called on readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. I came up with my own group of words and in the comments, many of you came up with ones that were more clever than anything I could think of.

Here are some of the examples from the Mensa Invitational:

1. Ignoranus: A person who’s both stupid and an asshole.
2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
3. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.
4. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease.
5. Caterpallor: The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you’re eating.

And here are some of my new additions to the dictionary:

1. Asshope: A guy that you date who is an asshole but you still hope that he'll prove he's a good guy.
2. Vagile: Extremely flexible and gymnastically inclined in the vaginal area.
3. Underbear: Tighty whities that don't hide the large amounts of hair poking out.
4. Stripease: A woman who drops her clothes way too easily.
5. Dourk: A really bitter, depressed geek.
6. Pelevision: Someone who buys a huge television and only uses it to watch soccer.
7. Cockblacking: Losing a girl to an African-American.
8. Warrantsy: The feeling that makes you buy an extended warranty for a piece of electronics or a car because the salesman scares you into it..
9. Weepon: A little tiny weapon.
10. Massuage: When you tell yourself that a massage ending in a happy ending is still legitimate.

Do you have an altered word that you think is better than these? Take any dictionary word, and add, subtract, or change ONE LETTER, and give the new definition in the comments.

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Posted in Writing | 26 Comments »

Happy New Year!

Friday, January 1st, 2010

2010 sounds like something different, doesn't it? It's not going to be the same – it will be a year of discoveries and happiness and riches and optimism. And flying cars and robots who shoot lasers and artificial intelligence systems that try to take over the world.

I may write up my own personal resolutions at some point, but for now, here are my Avitable.com Blog Resolutions for 2010. I resolve to:

  1. Continue to write what I think and call people out who deserve to be called out.
  2. Find humor in the darkest, drippiest corners of the universe.
  3. Encourage comments and dialogue to foster this sense of community that I love so much.
  4. Step out of my comfort zone and write about personal issues from time to time.
  5. Balls, balls, balls, ninjas, and more balls.
  6. Share my life with my closest friends, casual acquaintances, and perfect strangers, without holding back.
  7. Draw more Avitable cartoons.

What is your blog resolution?

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Posted in Writing | 40 Comments »

My Top Ten Posts of 2009

Wednesday, December 30th, 2009

What's a year end series without some self-backslapping? Here is what I consider to be my top ten(ish) posts of the year:

10. Sex toy reviews: I've done several reviews, but I'd have to say my best one is my review of the blowjob imitator. (Followed closely by my review of the prostate massager).

9. Morally repugnant humor: I like to be a bit risque sometimes, and while my posts doen't always hit the mark, I'm glad that I made the attempt – it helps me develop as a writer and a humorist. Like the post where I rewrote some Bible verses just in time for Easter. Or when I wrote a nasty remembrance of a fake person on 9/11.

8. Racist humor: Racism is such a hot button topic that even simple words can spark controversy. And as usual, I try to come up with my own way of approaching the subject to take the power away from the words. One of my favorite posts on the topic of stereotypes was when I came up with new Hallmark divisions to match their black-oriented "Mahogany" line. (I also liked my racist Internet terminology post.)

7. Video blogs: I love to make video posts, although I'm not nearly as smooth or funny as I think I am in my head. Even with that, the video where I did dramatic readings from "Fuck My Life" is my favorite vlog of the year, followed closely by my video imagining if Hitler found Avitable.com.

6. Posts capitalizing on fear: The furor around President Obama's election causing such irrational fear in hardcore Republicans struck a chord with me, and I wrote a few posts that I really enjoyed about this ugliness and anti-American attitude. While I was fond of my advance copy of his inauguration speech, it was my sneak peek at the Presidential Address to Students that I thought was spot on.

5. Controversial posts: Whether I'm writing about how creepy breastfeeding is or pranking Freecycle by pretending to give away a free PS3, I have no problem stating my opinion if I do self-admittedly play the devil's advocate to an extreme at times.

4. Nudity: Nudity is always funny, but it's especially funny when a fat guy recreates a pose by a thin, muscular, hot guy in Playgirl.

3. Uncomfortable humor: I think it's important to find humor in the most serious of events, and that's how I cope with anything that's difficult. Nowhere was that more evident this year than when I wrote about my Alzheimer's stricken Nana.

2. Dead celebrity interviews: I enjoy writing interviews with celebrities once they've passed into the ether, and I think the best one I've written was my interview with the late, great Ed McMahon.

1. Serious posts: While I tend to keep my posts very light, there are times when I write seriously and personally. I write from my heart and share in a way like I've learned from examples. While my post about my weight was one of the most personal I've ever written, I think my favorites would be either about having a daughter or consoling a grieving mother.

Honorable Mentions:

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Posted in Writing | 39 Comments »

The Law of Nature

Tuesday, September 22nd, 2009

Late last night found me in my car, driving home tired and bleary-eyed. The familiar glow of the Burger King sign beckoned to me from the interstate, promising soda that would push off sleep for a few miles more. The exit was an inky black stillness, unbroken by street lamps or headlights. An inebriated woman attempted nonchalance while stumbling through the parking lot as I eased into the drive through lane.

The voice was gently tired as it took my simple order. I found myself speaking in hushed tones as if a normal voice would break the peace of the evening. I moved slowly around the corner and stopped at the window, frosted from the war between the frigid air inside and the sticky humidity of the night air. Waiting to complete our transaction, I heard a noise and looked through my open window to the parking lot on my right. On its haunches, right paw raised in the air, a high five left hanging, sat a raccoon, surrounded by six of its brothers and sisters. The bandits chittered amongst themselves almost silently, moving slowly in some predetermined maneuver.

As if she were retracing her steps before misplacing her car, the intoxicated woman walked around the corner of the drive-through lane, stopping at the first closed window. In her late forties, wearing a short white skirt and a tight white leather jacket, her blond hair glowing in the fluorescent light, she was at sea, wobbling side to side as her own private yacht pitched from port to starboard.

Confused by her own reflection, she stared into the window, oblivious to my eyes on her through my rear view mirror. Oblivious to the 14 sparkling eyes observing her from the darkness. Timidly at first, gaining temerity with every step, the largest raccoon approached the woman. The others followed suit, looking side to side as they planned their assault. Even with her senses fogged and dulled, the woman felt them approach. She turned and stared quietly, while I watched her eyes shift back into focus at the ringed creatures before her.

Mere steps away, the leader sat and looked at her. It showed no fear or aggression, merely curiosity. A subtle nod of its head encouraged more of its brethren to join it. The woman looked around nervously, still unsure if her eyes were telling her the truth. Deciding to hope for the best and plan for the worst, she accepted her situation at face value. This was no fevered dream or hallucination.

"Gidoutaheah" her slurred words were clumsy and heavy, breaking the silence instantly. Like a bear, she raised her arms and kicked her feet, acting as Frankenstein in the sixth grade play. The bandits laughed at her and danced out of reach, their teeth baring as they sparred with her shadows.

The hissing and growling gave her pause. Maybe she wasn't able to defend herself from these creatures, if they even existed. Sensing her confusion and concern, they created a half circle around her and inched closer. For a single second, she and I made eye contact and I envisioned her imminent attack. Raccoons snarling and biting as they bit into her flesh while she stumbled and fell to the concrete. I put my hand on the door handle when she gave in. Belying the amount of alcohol coursing through her veins, the woman sprinted around the corner, obscenities spraying out of her mouth like spittle.

The raccoons slinked backwards, becoming part of the inky backdrop, betrayed only by their shiny eyes, glinting with the tiniest hint of triumph.

Obnoxious Halloween news!

There are only four days left in the raffle. Right now, it's unlikely that we're going to sell enough for the Grand Prize, but you can still win a free T-shirt. Enter now for only $7!

Do you want to get Dave2's exclusive artwork that he drew only for this party, but you don't want to spend the money on a T-shirt? I'm happy to announce that you can buy a limited edition mug that has the same artwork in a more economical format! Plus, you can't drink coffee out of a shirt!

Want two mugs – one for you and one for your husband? Pick up one of our Invaded! logo mugs as well!

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Posted in Partay, Writing | 55 Comments »

Ass sweat: a poem

Sunday, August 30th, 2009

It rolls downhill, gathering speed as it hugs the contours of my shoulders and back.
The quiet waits to be shattered by the sound of my AC
but instead it mocks me and the sweat continues to travel
Joined by its brothers and sisters, it becomes a river, raging across my skin

I beg the fan for some relief. It does its best. It's not enough.
"Adam", the pool calls seductively, "Come to me."
A night of cool ecstasy, floating on a cloud
It's worth the wrinkles that the morning will surely bring.

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Posted in Writing | 58 Comments »

Haiku: The ConFab version

Tuesday, June 16th, 2009

This past weekend I went to Lexington, KY, for a blogger party. Everyone else has written recaps and posted photos, and there's very little left to say, except that it was a great time, and thanks to Brad and Liz for hosting everyone and throwing an excellent party. And, as the self-designated Poet Laureate of the party, here is my tribute:

Karaoke Bowl
Penguins win just for Becky
Karl leaves drinks behind

The Netherlands lose
We gain for two days at least
Yvonne, we miss you.

Marty is the man
No fucking clue who you were
But you rocked the house

The Heathers march through
Inducting into their ranks
We may all be doomed

Cougar and student
Sybil and Sheila prowling
No penis is safe

New friendships blossomed
Old friends came out of their shells
Plus, a big dildo

The Bitches held court
Dave was a snarky pirate
Jill got inked and lived

My favorite geek
Kissed my best friend with her tongue
How did I miss it?!?

Crysterious. Dark.
Back and forth with a purpose
Time wasn't enough

Too many people
Cannot write haiku for all
Too tired to try

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Posted in Writing | 56 Comments »

Under cover of darkness

Sunday, January 18th, 2009

It's the magic hour.
The road ahead is barren and black.
Behind me, lights twinkle as stars from another galaxy.
The sky is ink and the moon smiles.
The needle passes 100.
A shrug silences the music.
A nudge lets the wind roar in.
A twist turns off my guiding lights.
I hold the wheel straight and close my eyes.
For a minute, there is only me, and I am flying.
For a minute, I ride the wind.
For a minute, I am free.

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Posted in Writing | 21 Comments »

Conversations between two girls

Wednesday, September 3rd, 2008

These are the conversations as I imagined them at the time:

A conversation between two girls in my fifth grade class.

Girl 1: I don't know what it is, but whenever that Adam Avitable pulls my hair or pinches me, I feel all warm.

Girl 2: I can tell! Even though you scowl and tell him that you hate him, it doesn't feel like you're telling the whole truth.

Girl 1: It's like I hate him and can't get enough of him at the same time. Even though I ran over and told Mrs. Mudrey that he's hitting me, I hope he never stops.

Girl 2: Ooh, your wish is about to come true – here he comes again!


A conversation between two girls during my junior year of high school.

Girl 1: Did you see how that Adam Avitable pulled up to his parking space going top speed?

Girl 2: I sure did! And did you notice that his tires squealed and he was blaring hardcore rap out of his windows at the same time?

Girl 1: Oh yes. And when he got out of his car with his Ray Bans . . .

Girl 2: . . . and his sleeves rolled up . . .

Girl 1: He must be one of the coolest, hottest guys around.

Girl 2: I wholeheartedly concur.


A conversation between two senior girls during my freshman year of college.

Girl 1: Hey, do you see that guy who was already in the classroom when we walked in, reading a book?

Girl 2: The one in the trenchcoat? That's Adam Avitable, and he's famous because he was in MAD Magazine.

Girl 1: Oh, that's Adam? Ohmygod, he's even cuter in person!

Girl 2: I know! I would totally go over and ask him if he wants to have sex with me, but I'm just too shy.

Girl 1: Me too! Ooh, he's looking over here! I'm so shy that I'll just give him a look of disgust and hope that he reads between the lines.

Girl 2: I'll just pretend to ignore anything he says or does like he really doesn't even show up on my radar in any way and hope he sees the truth.


(This post was inspired by the absolutely hilarious book "Free-Range Chickens", by Simon Rich, one of the writers for SNL. Chock full of hilarious imagined conversations, bon mots, and absurdist takes on common concepts, it's a quick read that actually made me laugh out loud.)

For Episode Nine of "Clearly, You're Retarded", Britt and I will be goin' gangsta at 9 PM EST on Talkshoe. The topic tonight is cloning – Where are the boundaries? When is it creepy? Join in on the fun by listening live! You can listen live online at Talkshoe.com, or download the Talkshoe application and you can chat and even call in!

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Posted in Clearly You're Retarded, Writing | 46 Comments »

Twas the night

Monday, December 24th, 2007

With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore:

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my home,
there was no porn being watched, no stroking the bone;
The lotions and tissues, put away with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The dildos and buttplugs were snug in their beds,
While visions of dolphin porn danced in their heads;
And Amy in her pjs, and I in my bare ass,
Had just settled down and fallen asleep fast.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I opened and flashed,
And saw it was my neighbor, her face aghast.
I waved with both hands and a penis that was hard.
I was shutting the blinds as she called me a fucktard.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, looking drunk at the wheel,
"It's Santa Claus!" I said with a squeal.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled and slurred and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! Now Dancsher, Now Prancsher and Viksshen!
On, Comet! On Kyoopid! On Donner and Blitzshen!
To the *hic* of the porsh! To the top of that wall!
Now *hic* away! Dash a*hic*! Dash away all!"

And then I heard him tinkling up on our roof
And a retching and vomiting and a sound like "BLARGHOOF".
As I grabbed a wreath and covered my crotch,
Down the chimney St. Nick came, smelling like Scotch.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot.
And he was covered in puke and ashes and soot.

A bag filled of toys spilled off his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes were bloodshot and his breath smelled like sherry,
His cheeks were bright red, his nose like a cherry!
His drooling mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as yellow snow.
The stub of a roach he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke reminded me of high school – 1993.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.

He was fat and wasted, a right jolly old bum,
And I laughed when I saw him, and offered some gum.
A shake of his head, and a flick of his arm,
The glint of a knife told me he meant me some harm.

"Get out of here, you old fucking drunk,
You smell like you just shit out a dead skunk!"
I grabbed a bat that was a present from my wife,
And smacked him in the face before I got stabbed with his knife.

He spoke not a word, but circled me quick,
And jabbed once, twice, the third causing a nick.
As I noticed the blood, I lashed out with my foot,
Catching his crotch, I heard a grunt and a toot.

He shook his fist and put his finger on his nose,
Gave me the other finger, and up the chimney he rose.
He stumbled to his sleigh, to his slaves he called,
And away they flew while he clutched his balls.

But I heard him exclaim as his sleigh became less visible,
"Merry Christmas to all except that fucker Avitable!"

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Posted in Writing | 43 Comments »

Loser

Friday, November 30th, 2007

I am a loser. Real life and work and computer problems prevented me from my goal of writing 50,000 words in a month. I'm still committed to writing it, though, but I realize that I have no choice but to do it at a pace consistent with someone who's busy 80-90 hours of the week.

So we know that I'm a loser, but I'm not alone. Let's talk about some of the other losers out there, thereby making me feel better about my loserness!

  • If you're a young, single man who is not hideous looking, hiring a masseuse to come to your house, massage you and give you a happy ending is only one step away from hiring a hooker. Guess what? You're a loser!
  • If you are a disabled shut-in who disagrees with someone and the way that you show your disagreement is by petty, personal attacks, instead of actually using logic or reason, and if you have no ability to form a cohesive discussion of your beliefs without resorting to acting like a second grader, you're a loser!
  • If you get excited by watching a team of felons and felons-to-be carry a ball around a field or court, and you support that team because of some random geographic boundaries, you're a loser!
  • If you're a white trash reject who doesn't believe in marriage but believes in putting another mouth on welfare while you sit around with your Nazi friends and smoke pot, you're a loser!
  • If you have ever watched American Idol, America's Next Top Model, Dancing with the Stars, or Survivor, you're a loser!
  • If you make sweeping generalizations about anyone, ever, you're a loser!
  • If you're a Southern-bred silver spoon-fed spoiled child who just followed in your dad's footsteps to be one of the worst world leaders in history, you're a loser!
  • If you're a large bald man who got sick by letting his nephew stick his dirty, disgusting hands in your mouth, you're a loser!
  • If you watch and laugh at "According to Jim", you're a loser!
  • If you're a freaky pseudo-incestual bisexual who stole your husband from a wholesome person, and then forced him to adopt tons of children from different countries, you're a loser!
  • If you don't have a doctorate, you're a loser!
  • If you think just because you have a juris doctorate, you're a doctor, you're a loser!
  • If you don't comment on this post, you're a loser!

See? There's a little bit of loser in all of us. I feel much better now.

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Posted in Writing | 57 Comments »

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