Onion-Man

Onion-man: a mad-farmer who grew the worlds largest onion… but instead of entering it into a competition, he climbed inside of it and became “ Onion-Man!”: He who rolls around… flavoring sauces & bringing his enemies to TEARS!

Sarah Palin is the mayor of South Park.

I heard our new neighbor yell at her crying 6 yr old, “You’re disgusting! You have snot all over your face!”

Tigers Love Tomatoes

Some say dreams are prime creative real estate, so I am attempting to tap into my “creative-dream-engine’ by taking elements of my dreams and using them for story ideas. So for my first story I will take last nights’ dream and write it in a more cohesive story format. Here goes:

So there I was, in college, when I inadvertently won a dance contest. The reward for winning the contest was presented to me by Flava-Flav on live TV or, more accurately, was presented to me by Flava-Flav THROUGH the television set. As I drove with my family of face-less, brother-like characters to an unknown location, I realized Flava-Flav gave me the ‘boy’ prize instead of the ‘girl’ prize. After my fuzzy-faced brother showed me how to use my toy airplane called a ‘Maverick’, I grew happy. Finally we got to the hotel, where we realized the tiger sleeping in the corner only woke up when we touched the tomatoes in our salads.

Yes, I think I like this story. I will surely do this from now, ON.

Sleepy Thoughts

When I finally go to bed, I lie..... lye..., take-a-load-off in my bed thinking of super cool things. Some ideas are so awesome, I feel absolutely no need to write them down to remember in the morning (by morning I mean 3 pm-ish). After all, how could I forget the best thought ever thinked..... thunk... contemplated. But, inevitably I always forget.

Action descriptions for clothing are dumb. Physical descriptions for clothing make much more sense... like high-heels or khakis. The only exception for action clothing names, is if the action is mandatory. Like, you can only wear a bomber jacket if you are in the process of bombing someone. Or, you can only wear a wife beater if your wife is beaten up... by you.

Yeah, sooooooo... that's why I should start writing down my good ideas, so that I don't have to make up bad ones on the spot.

Projectile

It's so painful for me to go back and read previous blogs I've written. At the time I wrote it I thought it was clever, but after reading it later on it just sounds like I'm either slightly illiterate or have Asperger's. Once I've thrown it up out of my head... it is no longer appetising. One time I heard someone say that when you die, your "spirit" would "no more want to be back in your earthly body, than you would look longingly at your own vomit." All I have to say to that is; that would depend on what you had last eaten.

Chola ha ha

Just read the funniest definition ever. Located in the Urban Dictionary online:


7. chola :

a greasy spic ho that carries razors in her mouth and crabs on her hoohaa. Cholas have no conscience and will kill you for a dollar. usually violent and fat - always ugly

ex. "That burrito in the toilet smells like a chola."

fat greasy nasty ugly ho

Pulpage

2night I drank a bottle of wine... that's not that bad considering I only payed $1.97 at Walmart for it, so it was totally weak. Good though. 'Course, I won't know for sure until tomorrow. I need a job. I don't know how to find one though. I also have some sort of insomnia, which doesn't work well with seeking employment. For instance, tonight I had a plan to go to sleep around 10/11pm, but instead I ate until midnight, then put on our copy of Pulp Fiction and downed a bottle of wine. I wonder if I could find a job that paid for that kind of thing. haha.

Zed's dead. I am currently in between a health kick and a fatty binge. How can I be in between those you ask? Well, I bought 'good for you' snacks and food; like fish, red wine, dark chocolate/veggies/fish etc. The problem occurs when I drink the entire bottle of wine, and eat a huge bag of Raisinets. Or smother healthy items with sugar or fat. What are you supposed to do when you're not eating, sleeping, or looking for food? If I answer that question all will be well in my life.

"I'ma get mid-evil on your ass." - ha, havn't heard that line since childhood... anyway. Sorry for my boringment. G'nght

Can Die

I don't have anything to say tonight, but I am attempting to stick to my blog-a-night deal with myself. All I learned today is that wearing the color orange creates issues for yourself that could be avoided by choosing other colors. Orange shirts are bad, but orange bottoms are much worse. For example, if you wear orange with a black top you look like a Holloweiner; if you wear it with a white top you looks like you work at Hooters; purple and orange always equal clown; and if you choose any other bright color you create a geye-sore (that means gay eye-sore). The only good neutral color left to try is brown, and we all know brown and orange make poop.


I noticed that Barack kinda looks like a Tootsie roll. Look it up cuz I don't know how to post pictures on blogs yet.

Bullshine

When I originally started this stupid blog, I intended to post something everyday. I soon realized that I am only funny in the wee hours of the morning, closest to passing out, and I only want to be funny in life. I sometimes get 'blogger's block'- a term I tried to shorten to: "block", but that word was already taken so I switched to "bloggock". There are always things to write about, but I wrestle with wasting people's time with my boring stories. But then again, I don't FORCE people to read this, so they can just screw off and suck on my boring-ness.
One day, I 'viewed' my blog over and over again to reach a round number (like 30) on the views counter. I would say that's pretty losery, but I'm sure everyone would do it. Oh, and new neighbors moved in next door, and one of the items I saw them moving in was a giant chandelier. Hahahaha. They have the exact same apt that we do, and I can't imagine where they'd put it. Every time I hear their door opening I RUN to the peep-hole hoping to see a giant chandelier sitting on an end table or propped up against the wall.
I've been trying to stay 'hip' lately by forcing myself to watch horrible... I mean 'new' music videos. My official critique is that the world is about to end. Well,... I hope it does anyway. Not just because so much of it sucks ass, but because everything modern is like a bad copy of something already done before. I started noticing this phenomenon in the 90's, but it's gotten worse. This generation has no great war or great depression... our great war is a spiritual war and our great depression is our lives-- okay, that's from Fight Club but I think it explains why modern music is meaningless and overproduced, and movies are 2 hour unthoughtout special effect reels. I made steak for dinner tonight. And listened to bad music after watching a truly retarded movie. That scenario seems to sum it all up.
This blog turned rambly... oh well Bitches!! For all you know, I could be drunk. Oh, that reminds me... the stuptarded (My word!!!) movie we were watching was on T.V. and therefore free of all it's original vulgarities. The best part of the movie was the dubbed swearing. At one point a guy yelled "That's Bullshit!" but the dubbed voice yelled "That's Bullshine!"
hahaha, what bullshine.

Transportation

My neighbors are moving and apparently using our front door as a loading doc. I didn't realize this, so when I heard a rubbing/pushing/banging-ish knock at the door, I figured it was some sort of special-ed group or down syndrome league like, "Down But Not Out" or " 'Wheeling' to Survive" attempting to 'knock' at my door to sell candy bars or fancy cheeses. So I got up to look out the peep hole, but surprisingly did NOT see a group of ... what's the politically correct term... ahh yes; retardos. Instead I saw a large, dark obstruction of some sort.
For some reason I JUMPed out of the doorway, and ducked, as if the Transporter were just about to Johnny Cage my door down. I don't even know why I was ducking... I had already moved out of the way and there was nothing over my head! I gained my senses and looked out a side window and saw that it was the neighbor's bed propped up against the door. Which was gross to me.
I guess my point is, the Transporter was such a horrible movie we had to turn it off after 30 minutes or so.

Blogga Style

Today I am complaining about annoying personalities; not of strangers, but of those closest to you. Like friends that only talk about themselves, usually acting the whole time that they are needing your advice on their stupid problem, but anything you suggest is mushily replied to with a 'yeahhh, buttt...' or an, ' I don't know...', to which you're thinking "Of course you don't know, because if you did I wouldn't be listening to the mind-retardifying problems you have created for yourself." I typically continue on with a short prayer in my head to God, asking if I am being tested, or perhaps punished for something horrible I did in the past that I forgot about.

Another annoying personality I would like to discuss is the "I'm just sayin'... " person, who thinks that their personal observations about life are so far-superior to others' that they may as well rule Earth. This person usually starts sentences with "What they NEED to do is..." or "If they had a BRAIN they would...", and because you are either related to this person or are somewhat friends, you have to feign agreement or wonderment at their "amazing" ideas. Really in your head you're thinking, "What YOU need to do is shut the hell up, because you are just a loser with a loser job who compensates for being a loser by accusing professionals of being stupider than you are, even though we all know you are the one who is, in fact, stupider."

Lastly I would like to complain about those close to us with 'temperament' issues. I am mostly sick of them right now. You know, that person that you warn one another about, even though you all know him/her? Like, "You know so-and-so, he can be a real A-hole if you mention... farms, or triathlon... or ice-picks (or anything else that they should just shove up their asses if they get annoyed by)." I'm so sick of tip-toeing around 'delicate flowers', that have the nerve to call themselves friends OR family, when they are basically threatening you with crapping themselves, if you say or do the wrong thing.

Mission Statement

After sitting in front of my laptop with my fingers hovering over the keys, without pressing any, for 10 minutes as I watched my spouse flip through 600 agonizingly boring TV channels... I realized that there was nothing interesting nor intelligent on either the television or the internet.
I hate when I do a search on 'the google' and a blog pops up. Reading people's blogs is one of the most painful things to do in life... if you have a working brain. Imagine that person talking too loud at Applebee's or in line, that told everyone around them every stupid, boring, pointless detail of that stupid, boring, pointless story they subjected their 'friend' to; okay now that you're imagining that annoying person... picture CHOOSING to read about his or her stories online. Those are the type of people that blog: self-centered friendless losers, convinced of their own heightened intelligence.
Most people that are likable enough to have real live friends, that don't break if you spill coffee on them, can just tell their thoughts to them instead of creating another annoying blog. That said, I don't count because I really AM super intelligent, and I CHOOSE not to have friends!!! Damn it! So enjoy.

Offensieve; 'i' before 'e'

Today I coined the usage of the word 'offensieve'. It is a hybrid of 'offense' and 'sieve'. So it means 'to drain off the offense, leaving only the usable material'. I hope to use this blog to record all of the awesome thoughts I have, that I've been keeping to myself. I hope my spouse gets in on the action and we create a 'dual' blog.