Posts Tagged ‘a pile of dog bones’
In Memoriam
Sunday, June 21st, 2009In Memoriam
Saturday, June 21st, 2008Two bits indeed
Tuesday, July 3rd, 2007
It's time for your final NYCWD update:
We reached $3500! That's an average of $350 per day, and $14.58 per hour! We received 275 donations from almost every state in the country plus Canada, Australia, Europe, Asia, and the Middle East.
Now, I'm just waiting for some pending check payments through Paypal to officially clear, and a check will be sent to NYCWD to help alleviate any of his costs, personal or otherwise.
Thank you to everyone for your generosity. I was completely amazed at the outpouring of support from the blogging community. It was absolutely tremendous. And thank you to Amy for creating these great graphics that have circled the globe and been downloaded 700 times!
And now, Tuesday's post:
Since learning about the awesomeness of a professional shave, I started going to the barber's every Monday. I would get shaved every week, and every third week, I'd get a haircut. I started off with the original guy, but he was a bit unreliable, so I moved on and started getting everything done exclusively by the owner, Cori. She was great, didn't make small talk, and it's been a great 4 months.
Then came yesterday. I should have known that something was up when I didn't see Cori's car in the parking lot. I walk in and ask the barber who was there (who I didn't recognize), "Where's Cori?"
"Oh, Cori's out until Thursday. She rescheduled all of her customers with Anthernee."
"Who's Anthernee?" I ask, with severe trepidation creeping into my voice.
"I am!" A voice booms out from the back of the room. I expect to see a virile young man walk out, ready to give me my shave and a haircut. Instead, a wizened little black man comes slowly around the corner. He was only about four feet tall, and it took him a full five minutes to walk the 15 feet to his chair. "Hop on in," he booms, and I jump because his voice is so uncharacteristic of his size and age! How do his lungs produce that much power?
I reluctantly sit in the chair and watch helplessly as it takes all of his strength, pushing with both of his hands, to turn the chair to face the mirror. "I'd like you to do a shave, trim the beard, and give me a haircut," I say. "Just trim the sides and the top – nothing fancy is necessary."
"No problem," he says, and, after putting the apron around my neck and fastening it, picks up a comb and a pair of scissors. And I watch in rapt fascination and abject horror as his hands shake worse than Michael J. Fox on a bad day.
Moving so fast that they almost blurred, his shaky hands holding implements of sharp pain got closer and closer to my head. I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer. "Oh God of Haircutteries and Salons, please let my death be quick and painless at the hands of the vibrating scissors of doom."
I'm not sure if he just had to get the shaking out of his system, but once the scissors actually touched my head, it stopped immediately. Or so I thought. It could have been that with one hand he was just shaking the chair at such a rhythm that we were all synchronized in our movements. I don't know. At any rate, the haircut was painless.
Then we move onto the shave. "You're going to look like Charlie Daniels," he says.
Having no idea who that is other than a vague memory of the name, I nod sagely. Well, as sagely as one can nod when covered with a towel and with a razor blade against your neck. "Most people think I look like Kevin Smith," I said.
"Who?"
"Kevin Smith!"
"Cam Sharif? No, you don't look anything like him."
"KEVIN SMITH!!"
"Who?"
"Charlie Daniels."
"Ah yes, of course."
Slowly (oh every so slowly), he shaves my face. I feel the straight razor scraping my cheeks, my neck, my ears, and, strangely, right under my lips. That doesn't make any sense, because I have a beard there, but I assume that he's just making a straight line so that it doesn't look quite so grizzly. I soon forget and close my eyes and relax, figuring that I'll either die by Ol' Mr. Shaky Hands, or he'll finish the job and I'll survive.
Once he's done, he removes the hot towel from my eyes, raises the chair, and I look at this in the mirror:
I mean, what the fuck? Why do I have bald spots under the edges of my lips? What would entice this ancient barber to give me a perpetual frown? I went home and showed my wife, and the first thing she said was, "Oh my God. You look like a clown now!" And she was right.
u r sew kewl
Monday, July 2nd, 2007
Before you get to read your regularly scheduled post, here's the NYCWD update:
I'm still tallying the final totals – I have a few stragglers who I know are donating, so I want to wait until they do so before I give the final total amount that we'll be sending. That should be tomorrow or Wednesday, and then I'll give a complete breakdown.
And now, Monday's post:
And now, due to popular demand, I'm tackling another Myspace survey!
Have you ever licked the back of a CD to try to get it to work?
No. I have, however, licked the back of a homeless person to get him to work. Changed his life.
What's the largest age difference between yourself and someone you’ve dated?
Well, she was 16, and I was 48. What's that, two score plus some?
Ever been in a car wreck?
One time, I was in a bus that was going extremely fast, and we came up on a part of the interstate that wasn't finished yet. We weren't able to stop, so this guy in the front of the bus with a monotone said that we had to go faster, and we jumped the gap.
Were you popular in high school?
In my day, popularity was determined by the number of people that would come up and randomly punch you. So yes, I was one of the most popular kids in school.
Have you ever been on a blind date?
Yes, but I severely misunderstood. If I had realized she wasn't actually blind, I would have worn clothes. And I wouldn't have masturbated right there at the table.
Are looks important?
My looks? No. Yours? Yes.
Do you have any friends that you've known for 10 years or more?
No. My friends only last six months before they go insane and run off to join a convent or monastery.
By what age would you like to be married?
Someday, I hope a man will come along and make me his beautiful bride before I reach old age at 22.
Does the number of people a person's slept with affect your view of them?
Only if it's made their butthole too loose.
Have you ever made a mistake?
No. I can say with absolute certainty that I have never made a mistake. I thought I did once, but I was wrong.
Are you a good tipper?
Yes. I give a minimum of 20%, and sometimes up to 40-50%. And sometimes, I leave tips like "Please brush your teeth" and "Don't bathe in rat-piss next time".
What's the most you have spent for a haircut?
I just spread peanut butter on my head and lay down in an alley for rats to chew my hair off. It's free!
Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?
Mr. Belding was fucking hot.
Have you ever peed in public?
I have a goal to pee on the "Welcome to" signs of every state in the United States. I'm only 10 states away! I'm really worried about Alaska, though.
What song do you want played at your funeral?
"I Touch Myself", by the Divinyls. And I want to be buried with my penis pump, hand lotion, and a large supply of toilet paper rolls. I'll be wanking in Hell.
Would you tell your parents if you were gay?
Answer yes or no. Does your mom know that you're a retard?
What would your last meal be before getting executed?
I eat every meal as if I'm getting executed in the morning.
Beatles or Stones?
Monkees.
If you had to pick one person on earth to die, who would it be?
I'd find some athlete in his prime, go buy all his memorabilia and get him to sign a shitload of baseballs, and then pick him. I'd be set.
Beer, wine or hard liquor?
I usually just drink lighter fluid. It gets the job done.
Do you have any phobias?
I have a fear of waking up to find my penis missing and then find out he moved away to Argentina with a tranny named Alfreda.
What are your plans for the future?
Gradual insertion into the world's subconscious. Removal of all ugly people. Fathering children to lead every country in the world.
Do you walk around the house naked?
The house, the yard, the grocery store, the movie theater . . .
If you were an animal what would you be?
Something that can perform oral sex on itself.
Hair color you like on someone you're dating?
I usually don't look above the chest area.
Would you rather be blind or deaf?
That reminds me. How did Helen Keller's parents punish her? They would rearrange the furniture and leave the plunger in the toilet. How did Helen Keller masturbate? With one hand in the air signing "Oh! Oh!" How did Helen Keller go deaf in her right ear? The phone rang and she picked up the iron. How did she go deaf in her left ear? They called back.
Do you have any special talents?
I can identify erect nipples over the telephone.
What do you do as soon as you walk in the house?
I usually kill the hooker before the door has even closed.
Do you like horror or comedy?
I only watch foreign historical documentaries that are in their native tongue with no subtitles.
Are you missing anyone?
My God! Where did Bobby go? He was right here a second ago, I swear!
Where do you want to live when you are old?
I plan on having the ability to breathe underwater by then, so Atlantis would do fine.
Who is the person you can count on the most?
My dealer. That guy will never let me down or screw me over.
If you could date any celebrity past or present, who would it be?
Sarah Silverman. Or George Burns.
What did you dream last night?
That I was eating raw chicken. I can't find Jigsaw today, now that I think about it . . .
What is your favorite sport to watch?
Teenage Lesbian Sex.
Are you named after anyone?
The first man on Earth to get fucked over by a woman who got greedy and had to take that fucking apple. Stupid whore.
What is your favorite alcoholic drink?
A Nectarini.
Non alcoholic drink?
Diet Coke with Lime. Or ballsweat.
Have you ever been in love?
The real question is "Has Love ever been inside me?" And the answer is yes. Many, many times.
Do you sing in the shower?
Only until I drop the soap. Then I yodel.
Have you ever been arrested?
Well, there was this one show – To Catch a Predator, I think it was called. Let's just say that they didn't have any evidence, and I thought I was sending photos of my penis to a consenting 15-year old girl, not a naive 15-year old girl.
What is your favorite Holiday?
Billie
Would you ever get plastic surgery?
Well, I plan on having my testicles replaced with actual brass at some point.
Have you ever caught a fish?
This is how you end the survey? With a question about fishing? That's like a nice date that ends up back in her bedroom, and you go into the bathroom only to come out and find her in leather with a whip and a 14" strap-on, holding onto a small midget gimp named Fernando. It just lowers the bar so much.
The atheist's nightmare
Sunday, July 1st, 2007
Before you get to read your regularly scheduled post, here's the NYCWD update:
As of right now, at midnight EST on Saturday, June 30th, we have just raised $3300! I'm really amazed and proud of the support and generosity of every single blogger who posted a comment on NYCWD's blog, made their own post about his tragic loss, or bought a graphic or two or ten! It's almost enough to turn this cynic's black, twisted heart into a real one.
So, today is it. This is your last chance to buy a graphic, and your last chance to pitch in and make a difference for NYCWD. Let's see if we can hit $3500!
And now, Sunday's post:
Firstly, I've decided that I'm not going to continue doing the Weeks in Review. They were fun to do, but very time consuming, and I think I'd rather focus my energy on a normal post on Sundays. I might come up with another shtick for Sundays, but I guess we'll see.
Today, I want to talk about Jesus.
Well, kind of. I wanted to bring two recockulous videos to your attention. I saw them a while ago, but a recent conversation with a blogger who is under attack by a fundamentalist Christian discussion board made me decide to post this.
Both of these videos are titled: "The Atheist's Nightmare." The first one has Kirk Cameron learning about how the banana is the atheist's nightmare because of the peel, the size, the consistency, and other factors. This video ignores, of course, the fact that this moron is using a domesticated banana that has been crossbred to be like it is, not a wild banana, which looks almost nothing like the domestic one. Which pretty much fucks his entire theory right in the ass, don't you think?
This next video discusses how peanut butter disproves the theory of evolution. I can't even waste the brainpower to explain how retarded this theory is. They completely misunderstand the basics of evolution. It's infuriating that a generation of people could grow up watching this tripe and thinking that it could possibly be true!
It's shit like this that gives normal, intelligent, logical Christians a bad name. This makes everyone think that if you're Christian, you're clearly an idiot lacking the intelligence of the chimpanzee from which you evolved. That you're a sheep who just follows, without thinking or investigating anything for yourself. The rest of the Christians, who make up at least 90% of the Christians out there, should hunt down these idiots and cockpunch them. Repeatedly.
Happy Sunday!
Uh Vit Uh Bull
Saturday, June 30th, 2007
Before you get to read your regularly scheduled post, here's the NYCWD update:
As of right now, at midnight EST on Friday, June 29th, we have raised over $3200! Only two more days to give! Let's keep it coming!
And now, Saturday's post:
Watch the video, or click here for the direct link on Youtube.
I love Michael Bay
Friday, June 29th, 2007
Before you get to read your regularly scheduled post, here's the NYCWD update:
As of right now, at midnight EST on Thursday, June 28th, we have raised over $3000! It's stalled a little, with only a few purchases coming in yesterday, but I'm hoping for one more big push before I shut this down on Sunday. Do you get paid today? Why not kick in $5? Or $500?
And now, Friday's post:
Too fucking tired to really post anything of use, except the following.
1. Got to see an advance screening of Transformers. It fucking rocked. I was more impressed than I thought I could be. Go see this when it comes out next week.
2. I'm thinking that we might have people who read here who might feel a bit intimidated by the idea of commenting. My comments tend to get a bit cliquey, but I want to take today to ask any random lurkers just to take a minute to comment and say hi. We don't bite, I promise. Well, actually, we do. But in a good way.
3. Go over to These Walls and check out our posts. There's some comedy genius over there, and you might be missing out!
100 Things Part 4
Thursday, June 28th, 2007
Before you get to read your regularly scheduled post, here's the NYCWD update:
As of right now, at midnight EST on Wednesday, June 27th, we have raised just over $3000! Can you imagine that? In just over 5 days, we have raised an average of $600 a day! And with four days left, I am convinced that this number is going to continue to increase. I know that in today's world, things tend to flare up and die quickly, and things become yesterday's news lightning-fast, but four more days of support and generosity is not too much to ask in this situation. Keep spreading the word, keep talking to your friends, and keep giving.
And now, Thursday's post:
In 100 Things: Part 1, I told you 21 things about my family. Then, in 100 Things: Part 2, I told you 19 eccentric things about myself. Then, 100 Things: Part 3 was about my wife. Now it's time for Part 4:
100 Things: Weird and Cool Things I've Seen or Done
40. When I was 14, my family had a foreign exchange student from Spain named Pablo staying with us. We had a great time and went on plenty of adventures. One night, while running around the neighborhood, we saw a giant glowing UFO hovering over a neighbor's house. We ran to the house and saw this giant hovering shape the size of a small house floating and humming, and then it lowered into the trees. We ran into the trees, and it disappeared.
39. I've stood at someone's head and stared into their open chest cavity as a surgeon performed open heart surgery. The cauterizing tool makes the searing flesh smell like pork.
38. In 2006, I hung out with and treated to dinner one of the new gods of the comic industry, who is slowly taking over the rest of the world.
37. As a teen working for my uncle, who hung window tint in people's homes, I worked in the homes of John Travolta, Madonna, and the parents of Jack Davis, one of MAD's artists. The last one was the coolest, because his art was hanging all over the house.
36. I took my 1984 Chrysler Fifth Avenue off-roading, and managed to drive over a dirt hill that caused my car to catch about 5 feet of air.
35. One Fourth of July when I was 7 or 8, we were all laying on the side of the river in Ormond Beach watching the professional fireworks over the river. Laying on my back, looking up, we watched the explosion and the subsequent arcs as the embers floated down. I pointed to one and said, "Boy, that one looks like it's actually coming down to us." Well, it was. Pretty soon, the entire area where we were was engulfed in flames. A man standing next to my baby brother, who had a huge 'fro at that point, had his hair catch fire. Everyone was screaming and running around. It was utter chaos.
34. Driving up to college one year, I watched as a car going in the opposite direction turned, spun, and then flipped end over end across all the lanes of oncoming traffic, the median, and then all of our lanes of traffic and landed on the passenger side in the breakdown lane. Then I watched some people run up to the smoking, sparking car and yank out a small Asian woman from the shattered window of the upended car, carrying her to a safe distance. She was completely unharmed. And then the car exploded.
33. In Los Angeles, there was a motorcycle cop going down the 5, driving erratically. He was in the far left lane, and would not let anyone get close to him or pass him in any of the 6 lanes going the same way. Every time a car got close, he would wave them off viciously. Finally, he got off at an exit that was the same as our exit. On the curve of the exit, I accelerated and got right on his tail, and then pulled up next to him at the stop light. I rolled my window down and said, "What the fuck is your problem? Why were you driving like that?" The officer was sweating like a pig, shaking like a leaf, and looked like he was about to cry. I think possibly it was his first time on a motorcycle and he was scared. He yelled, "What are you doing? You need to read your driving manual! You're a bad driver!" At which point my wife started cracking up. I berated the officer for another minute before the light turned green and he roared off at top speed. That is the only time that I've ever pulled over a police officer.
32. I once fell about 15 feet straight down and ended up with nothing more than the wind knocked out of me.
31. I invented a household product, had plans drawn up, and had a prototype manufactured that is actually in my kitchen. Once I have the time, I'm going to fix the bugs and sell it on a mass scale.
Don't fuck with my movie time
Wednesday, June 27th, 2007
Before you get to read your regularly scheduled post, here's the NYCWD update:
As of right, now, at midnight EST on Tuesday, June 26th, we have raised just over $2800! Everyone is amazing. We're so close to $3,000, and I'm only keeping this going through Sunday. Tell your friends, tell your church, tell your mom. Spread the word – let's go for broke on this one!
And now, Wednesday's post:
So, tonight, we went out to the movies. A typical Tuesday night normally allows us to enjoy the theater without too many crowds, obnoxious people, or other issues that plague the movie theaters on Friday nights and the weekend.
Unfortunately, this wasn't a typical Tuesday night. A hot summer night, a PG-13 thriller ("1408"), and apparently a pheromone sprayed by the theater chain that attracts retards, meant that we weren't going to have a nice, quiet experience.
While there were several obnoxious people around us, including the four pre-teen girls sitting directly in front of us who kept opening up their cell phones to text message until I kicked each of them lightly in the back of the head, the undisputed champion was the woman sitting to my wife's immediate left – Chatty the Dinosaur!
This woman had no filter. Everybody knows the type of person I'm talking about. They have no ability to disconnect their tiny little peanut brain from their mouth. A thought pops into their empty fuckin' head and is immediately spoken aloud.
So. We're sitting there, enjoying the previews, when in waddles this prehistoric creature. With a little reptilian head, squinty eyes, a tongue that kept flicking out over her lips, and a wheeze that indicated the lung capacity of an elephant, this monster plodded up the stairs and fell into the seat next to Amy. The entire theater groaned and shifted, and dust from the newly-formed crack in the ceiling slowly floated down.
Shoveling popcorn into her mouth at a rate that was clearly necessary to keep her four stomachs full so that she could regurgitate it in the mouths of her hatchlings later, this monstrosity began to regale us, and everyone within a 15-foot radius, with her own commentary on the movie unfolding before us. Her husband, a man who would look strong and hardy in most circumstances, sat beside her, a beaten, timid soul. In between raucous crunches of popcorn, she began:
"Oh I like that John Cusack he was so good in that movie with that girl who we saw in US magazine that was dating that boy remember honey? Why's he driving down that street? Oh he stopped because he's lost and now he's turning around I can't imagine having to do a turn like that in the rain boy I think it's going to rain tonight but we could use it because I think the grass is looking a bit brown and dear, you need to make sure to do more fertilizer tomorrow don't forget about that oh look he's going into the hotel I hope it's not too scary because I'm not going to sleep for weeks like that time I saw Harry Potter do you remember how scared I was and I thought one of those Deserters or Demoners or something was going to show up and kill me!"
And then, during the scene, lightning flashes. It wasn't scary or sudden – it was raining on screen and expected. Nobody jumped. This moron, however, shrieked like a banshee. And then continued.
"Ooh that's creepy why is he going in there I wonder I don't think I'd ever stay in a place like that, but I wouldn't walk around investigating because I'd go hide in the tub…"
My wife turns to me and hisses, "If she doesn't get quiet, soon, I am going to elbow her right in that giant maw she calls a mouth, and even if I lose my elbow, but I can dislodge a couple of her teeth and they go down her throat and choke her to death, I'm okay with it."
So, clearly, being the man, I had to step in and save my wife's elbow. I waited until the movie was relatively quiet, but Gabbasaurus was still going a mile a minute, and I said, in my clearest, most authoritative tone, "Would you shut the fuck up?" The entire theater gasped and hushed, including her. And we enjoyed the remainder of the movie in relative silence, punctuated with the occasional scream at the non-scary elements, and random gasps at parts that were not supposed to be surprises or twists.
Until the end. The credits start rolling, and she says loudly, "Well, what does that mean, huh?"
And once again I summon my big man voice and say, "It means you're a fucking retard."
And the entire theater erupts in laughter. And in the darkness, I smile and the world feels right again.
Hurricane Britt
Tuesday, June 26th, 2007
Before you get to read your regularly scheduled post, here's the NYCWD update:
As of right, now, at midnight EST on Monday, June 25th, we have raised an amazing $2700! Almost 220 people have contributed to the Puppy Monster Memorial Fund. And here are some of the numbers to show you how fucking amazing this is:
- The average donation is around $13.00.
- The highest donation was $200.00
- Donations have come from the US, Australia, Europe, Canada, Asia, and Japan.
- This has only been going on for 80 hours. That's an average of $33.75 raised per hour!
Thanks again to the whole blogging community. Please keep spreading the word, and keep giving! This will be running through the end of the week, so you still have a chance to make this into something even more extraordinary than it already is!
And now, Tuesday's post:
As many of you know, I own a small company. This company has employees, including a salesforce which is essential to its continued growth and success. And within the next two months, my salesforce is going to be augmented by a saleswoman extraordinaire named Miss Britt. Also within the next two months, it is likely that we may be visited by one of our seasonal hurricanes that we love to entertain here in sunny Florida. Thinking about the synergy and coincidence and confluence of the situation, I have decided to compare Hurricanes with Miss Britt.
A hurricane moves in slowly, leaving behind a trail of wrecked houses and broken trees.
Britt moves in quickly, leaving behind a trail of wrecked homes and broken hearts.
A hurricane is a swirling mass of wind and rain that can force a straw through a tree.
Britt is a swirling mass of hair and smoke that can suck a bowling ball through a straw.
A hurricane can last for several days before leaving behind a wet, disheveled mess.
Britt can last for about an hour before she's a wet, disheveled mess.
A hurricane can turn from its path at the last minute, endangering people and homes alike.
Britt can turn on you in an instant, endangering your testicles and penis alike.
A hurricane can cause people to evacuate their homes, taking only their prized possessions.
Britt can cause people to evacuate their wallets, leaving only their prized photographs.
A hurricane can bend a palm tree to the ground with one gust.
Britt can make a man's penis stand erect with one breast.
A hurricane is comprised of several parts that create one effective engine of destruction.
Britt is comprised of boobs and a vagina that create one effective engine of seduction.
A hurricane has never blown my house down.
Britt has yet to blow my socks off.
A hurricane can deliver gallons of water in a matter of minutes.
Britt can deliver layers of guilt in a matter of seconds.
I have no conclusion. Britt and Hurricanes have some similarities, but they also have their differences. In my opinion, they are not the same thing.
