I am Jack's enraged sense of rejection.

Am I Evil? Yes I am.

Fri, 14 Aug 2009 17:09:42 GMT

I drowned a mouse today. The new traps we bought are uber-sticky, and even vegetable oil couldn't free the mouse, and since he was REALLY stuck, and thrashing about, I couldn't just let it suffer a slow death by starvation or heart attack, so I drowned the poor little fucker. I feel bad for murdering a helpless animal, but at least I could say I tried to free it. I usually let them loose out in the field, but lately the house has just been overrun by the little fuckstains. And since they've been noted to carry the plague (yes, THE plague, as in BUBONIC SHITSTORM OF DEATH!), we have to be careful of them and their droppings. Ahh, life in New Mexico. Ain't it grand? At least it's cleaner than OLD Mexico.

Russian Weirdos

Fri, 10 Apr 2009 20:43:30 GMT

For some reason I keep getting added by Russian weirdos whose accounts are often suspended as soon as they add me. WTF?

Dealing With Assholes (A Story)

Tue, 31 Mar 2009 02:00:08 GMT

This is for all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to take it out on someone!!! Don't take that bad day out on someone you know, take it out on someone you DON'T know!

Now get this. I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin, could I please speak to Robin Carter?"

Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly.

After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again. When the same person once more answered, I yelled "You're an asshole!" and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word "asshole," and put it in my desk drawer.

Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and then I'd yell, "You're an asshole!" It would always cheer me up.

Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me, as I would have to stop calling the asshole.

Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice, "Hello." I made up a name. "Hi. This is the sales office of the telephone company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?" He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"

The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 823-4863.

Then, one day this old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking space. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out.

Great, I thought, she's finally leaving.

All of a sudden this black Camaro came flying up the parking aisle in the wrong direction and pulled into her space. I started honking my horn and yelling, "You can't just do that, buddy! I was here first!" The guy climbed out of his Camaro completely ignoring me. He walked toward the mall as if he didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, "this guy's an asshole; there sure are a lot of assholes in this world." I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I hunted for another place to park.

A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, "You're an asshole!" (It's really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.) I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camaro lying on my desk and thought I'd better call this guy, too.

After a couple rings someone answered the phone and said, "Hello."

I said, "Is this the man with the black Camaro for sale?"

"Yes, it is."

"Can you tell me where I can see it?"

"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th street. It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front."

I said, "What's your name?"

"My name is Don Hansen."

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home in the evenings."

"Listen Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes."

"Don, you're an asshole!" And I slammed the phone down.

After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer. For a while things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two assholes to call. Then after several months of calling the assholes and hanging up on them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. I gave the problem some serious thought and came up with a solution.

First, I had my phone dial Asshole #1. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello." I yelled "You're an asshole!" but I didn't hang up.

The asshole said, "Are you still there?"

I said, "Yeah."

He said, "Stop calling me."

I said, "No."

He said, "What's your name, pal?"

I said, "Don Hansen."

He said, "Where do you live?"

"1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camaro's parked out front."

"I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers."

"Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole!" and I hung up.

Then I called Asshole #2.

He answered, "Hello."

I said, "Hello, asshole!"

He said, "If I ever find out who you are..."

"You'll what?"

"I'll kick your ass, you piece of shit!"

"Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now, asshole!"

And I hung up.

Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as he got home. Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going down on West 34th Street.

After that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing. Glorious! If you want to watch two assholes kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars and a police helicopter...

I taped it all off the evening news. Ha ha ha ha!

Manic depression is a frustrating mess...

Wed, 28 May 2008 21:02:21 GMT

About seven or eight years ago, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. My therapist told me that there was a chance that I was also manic-depressive, and she wanted to look further into that possibility. That is, until I decided that I was no longer comfortable talking to a stranger in person about my issues. I was later prescribed medication, last year after I moved to Florida, for my recurring depression... Buproprion, also known as Welbutrin. It made me worse; I had recurring thoughts of suicide and random fits of rage, but mostly it made me even more sullen and anti-social. It began to interfere with my work, once again, almost to the point of getting fired. My doctor quickly switched me to Cymbalta, which was expensive, but had more of a positive effect. The mood swings were still occurring, but on a more manageable basis. The most extreme behavior I'd exhibit was hyperactivity and high energy, so I'd get a lot done at work on those days. Only problem was, it became harder to afford the medication, and since it wasn't working as well as my doctor hoped, I quit taking it altogether. At that time I left Florida and moved to New Mexico with my girlfriend, Nicole.

Life isn't as stressful here, but nonetheless... some days I would be moody for no reason, just downright antisocial and angry. And it's been occurring with more frequency lately. It's starting to scare Nicole, and tears me up inside to see her so confused and afraid.

So I decided to seek help. Or at least look into it, first, before putting myself at the mercy of some whack-job psychiatrist who'd prescribe me more fun little drugs to take.

I'm going to digress a little here, but this ties in with everything else:
Recently, my younger brother informed me that my mom had seen a specialist after having emergency surgery done on her neck vertebrae (and subsequent throat infections), and based on his findings, my mom wasn't suffering any trauma from the surgery, but she did show signs of other mental issues... namely, bipolar disorder II. Which did not surprise any of us in the least. We'd all suspected it for years.

So, on a whim, I did a little research into it, and found an article on the NIMH website, which goes into some detail about the symptoms, treatments, etc. It also mentions the phrase, "manic-depressive," the former term for it. Sound familiar? It also states,

Because bipolar disorder tends to run in families, researchers have been searching for specific genes—the microscopic “building blocks” of DNA inside all cells that influence how the body and mind work and grow—passed down through generations that may increase a person’s chance of developing the illness. But genes are not the whole story. Studies of identical twins, who share all the same genes, indicate that both genes and other factors play a role in bipolar disorder. If bipolar disorder were caused entirely by genes, then the identical twin of someone with the illness would always develop the illness, and research has shown that this is not the case. But if one twin has bipolar disorder, the other twin is more likely to develop the illness than is another sibling.

The same is true for any first-degree relative (immediate family, i.e. parents, siblings).

So I put two and two together, and it hit me. Am I possibly bipolar as well? I relayed this information to my older brother, who mentioned to me a couple months ago that he was being treated for depression (and quite possibly bipolar as well), and the more we talked about it, the more that this became a reality for us. The only thing that bothers me is that I never considered this possibility before, and why, now, it seems so relevant, maybe even convenient, that I would make this connection. Am I just grasping at straws? Or is this really the answer?

Wierd dream...

Sat, 10 May 2008 01:35:34 GMT

I dreamt last night that I was an undercover agen, and I was apparently protecting some girl, and I was driving a huge Mack truck through a city and smashing shit up, and cops are chasing me, and they finally catch me, and I'm like, "I didn't want to have to do this, but you've left me no choice..." and I whip out the badge and they all get pissed off and leave. Then I get back into the truck and haul ass off, but I woke up. Wierd.

Oh yes. It's a cheezburger.

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 07:39:44 GMT

The state of Wisconsin will NOT apologize for its CHEESE.

Sun, 16 Dec 2007 10:31:37 GMT

What the FUCK happened?

Ads?! Since when did LJ have fucking ADS?!

I am disgusted.

It's Jesus' birthday! (Well, it's my birthday, too, yeah!)

Sun, 29 Apr 2007 16:37:51 GMT

Yesterday was my 25th. I'm a quarter of a century old now, and that sounds old, doesn't it? Yeah, well, I FEEL old.

So to celebrate... well, actually, just for the hell of it, here's a picture of Johnny Cash!

More updates later!

When shit happens...

Tue, 09 Jan 2007 07:41:51 GMT

...be sure to remind everyone about it months later.

My dad's birthday is today. He would have been 59.

The thought HAD crossed my mind, but now it's DRILLED into it, thanks to an email my mom sent out to everyone reminding them of this fact, and asking us all to pray for him.

Some people wouldn't see this as such a bad thing. But coming from a woman who, for reasons unknown, had marked her desk blotter/calendar the date of the EXACT 6-month anniversary of her husband's death, it seems kinda sick, and mostly sad.

Sad because she has to constantly remind herself that her husband and best friend is gone. This isn't conducive to healthy grieving, if you ask me.

Either way, by now, it's almost been 10 months since he passed away, and the loss of my father still hurts, but out of all of us, my mother seems to be the only one who can't entirely accept it.

I worry about her sometimes.

Why am I back here? Well, I'm fucking bored.

Tue, 02 Jan 2007 07:01:43 GMT

the great disappointment

Sun, 16 Apr 2006 08:04:47 GMT

God has once again let me down, once more abandoned me.

Despite our prayers and hopes, my father passed away at 9:14 am March 23, after battling cancer for over a year.

The man I looked up to and respected is gone. I have never felt so empty.

Nothing could be worse than this.

Nothing... except the fact that I must now leave California and move to Florida to start things over and try to pick myself up, as my father wished for all of us to do.

I will be leaving so much behind....

People I love, friends and family, familiar surroundings...

I already bought my Greyhound ticket. I leave 4:30 pm this Monday, from the Metrolink station in Lancaster.

Goodbye, Palmdale. As much as I hate this place, there are people here I'll never forget.

Bad news...

Fri, 27 Jan 2006 00:29:13 GMT

My father is 58 years old. He is currently fighting lung cancer for the second time in his life. He finished his chemo and radiation therapy 10 weeks ago, and was on track to gaining his weight back and preparing for the surgery to remove the tumor the drugs had shrunk. After the surgery, my parents had planned to move out to Florida near my older brother Justin, since they were facing eviction from their home in Palmdale. But shortly after his last chemo treatment, my dad began to suffer random blackouts. A few days ago, he blacked out in the bathroom and collapsed, hurting himself. He was taken to the emergency room, where they did some tests to find the source of the blackouts. The news was grim.

The radiologist reported two "masses" and several lesions in his brain. Further testing showed that the pressure in his cranium had slowly increased, causing the blackouts and painful headaches. They transferred him to the hospital in Panorama City that night, and kept him doped up on morphine. Because of his low weight, further treatments could be fatal. Last I heard from my mom, they estimate that he has 6 months to live. I pray to God he proves them all wrong.

My brother flew here from Florida with his 14-month old daughter when he heard the news, fearing that she may never get to meet her grandpa. Other family members have called to offer prayers and condolences, and some have even sent money to help my mom pay the bills. I drove to my mom's house in a car with no tags, no license, and no insurance, so I could be here to comfort her. For the first time in years, we're all together again as a family. I just wish it was under happier circumstances.

For my friends reading this, whether or not you are religiously inclined, I ask of you to keep my family and my father in your prayers.

Thank you all.

desperation and the end to all hope...

Sun, 21 Aug 2005 12:56:55 GMT

When I moved back to Lancaster, I thought that I'd go to school so I'd increase my chances in finding a job, and try to survive on government grants. I was always taught that education was the most important step to a successful life. I registered for 14 units, got a part-time job at the college thanks to the Federal Work Study I applied for, and stayed on top of things. It looked like I was going to make it. I did well for a while, but in the end, I failed miserably. I started falling asleep during lectures, even though I'd been getting plenty of rest every night. It seemed I didn't have the patience nor the desire to pursue a higher education; it literally bored me to sleep. Because of my poor performance, my financial aid was revoked, and along with it, my FWS, costing me my job. Things went downhill from there.

I'm at the end of my rope, emotionally and mentally. I've lost track of all purpose in my life. I don't know why I go on anymore. Everything I've worked for can be taken away from me in an instant and without warning, and I'm doubtful there's much I can do about it. I've essentially expected the worst and accepted that it's all beyond my control. Life has proven nothing to me except how wrong I've always been, and how stupid I truly am. Stupid because I keep making the same mistakes, and wrong because I always believed I could correct them.

Despite all my efforts in the past two months, I am still unemployed, still broke, and I no longer have anyone to rely on, to ask for help, to right the wrongs I've committed or to reverse the damage I'd done. Friends and family have more than just turned their backs on me, some have even turned against me. My own mother does not want my younger brother or my dad to have any contact with me, and shuns any other family member that does. In other words, she's practically disowned me. I'm surprised that some people even put up with me, even now. I can't help but think that I've become immature and iresponsible, because I have yet to really prove otherwise. There's very few people that I'd managed not to piss off or alienate. Who'd want to hear me complain, anyway?

I have to be brutally honest to myself. I realise I have a problem here, but so far all I've done about it is make excuses. I'd always run to someone else to solve my problems, and still do, to a lesser extent. I usually can think for myself, but when in trouble, I panic and freeze, unsure what to do. No, panic isn't really the word I'm looking for. It's worse than that. I've actually become something of a recluse, spending most of my time alone in my room, wasting away, despite the constant need to exercise, to find a job, to do SOMETHING nagging at my subconscious. I rarely physically interact or converse with people anymore. I've become leery of the sun and the outside world, preferring to sleep the whole day, if I can even sleep at all. My whole body is often in pain, as it's not just my knee anymore. I've tried hard to maintain a normal schedule and make an effort to go out and look for work 3 or 4 days at week, for at least 4 hours a day, but walking becomes rather painful sometimes.

I can't concentrate on much of anything nowadays; I don't even have patience for activities I'd always enjoyed. I'm always irritable, sore, restless and impatient, though lately that's nothing new. I'm just more so restless than normal these days. I don't know what I'm impatient for. Maybe I'm tired of waiting for my world to end.

I'm tired of searching, tired of trying. It only makes me look more pathetic. If there's one thing I've learned, being successful requires a lot of time, effort, and skill, three things I definitely do not possess. I don't have any unique abilities that could help me in the long run, and my motivation is definitely lacking, at least when it comes to staying in school. I'm not the suicidal type, so don't take this all that way. I just don't know what to do anymore. It all seems so hopeless. I can't even bring myself to cry.

And here I am now, wondering why the hell I'm up at this hour, thinking about how I'm going to pay the rent this month, which is already 9 days overdue. You could say that I might find a job tomorrow, or on Monday, and yes, I agree that is entirely possible, but I'd have to hope to god that I get plenty of overtime in order to catch up on the rent, pay the late fees, and pay the next month's rent on time for once. Because that's the only thing that will save me now.

Leaving.... on a jet plane?

Fri, 19 Aug 2005 00:48:20 GMT

Seems I have to move yet again....

I screwed things up again... I've been unemployed and searching for work for two months with no relief in sight, and I'm on the verge of losing my home. But instead of being homeless again, this time I might be finally doing what I've always wanted: Getting out of California.

So..... Where am I going?

Well, my friend Charles and I wanted to go to Washington, because we prefer that climate and economy to that of California's, but that doesn't look like it's going to happen anytime soon.

The answer seems to be Hawai'i. Never thought I'd end up there, but given my current situation, it's not surprising. I have family in Palmdale and some in Florida and Georgia, and for the most part I'd like to be near them (even though they can't/won't help me), but my real family is in Hawai'i. After all the bullshit I've been through, those people have stayed true to me and helped me through so much, even more so than my actual family has. And now they're offering me a ticket to Hawai'i and a big opportunity to start over again and put my life back together.

I'm very tempted to take the chance and go. There's so much I'd be leaving behind, but in the end it's what's best for me.

Billy Sastard

Thu, 18 Aug 2005 05:25:55 GMT

"Why, if it isn't Douchey McDouchebag! Good to see you again, you magnificent bastard!"

-what I say when seeing old friends

The real life Peter Griffin

Mon, 15 Aug 2005 00:49:46 GMT

Not to be random, but....

Tue, 09 Aug 2005 20:09:42 GMT

Contraband contradictions, concocting contractions conceding to caucasian caucases causing casual conclusions concerning inconclusive Karma, masking masochistic mosquito massages in masculine mosques, a must-see mosaic! Take your tartar sauce and your Tinseltown tactics to a Tic-Tac filled trumpet and blow. Enjoy the eloquent essence of esoteric engines humming in ecstasy, etc. Actual arctic acronyms were asked to ascertain the astral auspices of acting asterisks, that's ass! She sells sea shells buy the real whore!

Just one more: "Why men are happier than women"

Fri, 05 Aug 2005 10:02:35 GMT

What do you expect from such simple creatures?

Your last name stays put.

The garage is all yours.

Wedding plans take care of themselves.

Chocolate is just another snack.

You can be President.

You can never be pregnant.

You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park.

You can wear NO shirt to a water park.

Car mechanics tell you the truth.

The world is your urinal.

You never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is just too icky.

You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.

Same work, more pay.

Wrinkles add character.

Wedding dress- $5000. Tux rental- $100.

People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them.

The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected.

New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet.

One mood all the time.

Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.

You know stuff about tanks.

A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.

You can open all your own jars.

You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.

If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend.

Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack.

Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.

You almost never have strap problems in public.

You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.

Everything on your face stays its original color.

The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.

You only have to shave your face and neck.

You can play with toys all your life.

Your belly usually hides your big hips.

One wallet and one pair of shoes one color for all seasons.

You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look.

You can "do" your nails with a pocket knife.

You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.

You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on December 24 in 25 minutes.

No WONDER men are happier!

What happens when this guy is bored? Dirty jokes, that's what.

Fri, 05 Aug 2005 10:00:01 GMT

   A girl asks her boyfriend to come over Friday night and have dinner with her parents. Since this is such a big event, the girl announces to her boyfriend that after dinner, she would like to go out and make love for the first time. Well, the boy is ecstatic, but he has never had sex before, so he takes a trip to the pharmacist to get some condoms. The pharmacist helps the boy for about an hour. He tells the boy everything there is to know about condoms and sex. At the register, the pharmacist asks the boy how many condoms he'd like to buy, a 3-pack, 10-pack, or family pack. The boy insists on the family pack because he thinks he will be rather busy, it being his first time and all.
   That night, the boy shows up at the girl's parents house and meets his girlfriend at the door. "Oh, I'm so excited for you to meet my parents, come on in!" The boy goes inside and is taken to the dinner table where the girl's parents are seated. The boy quickly offers to say grace and bows his head. A minute passes, and the boy is still deep in prayer, with his head down. 10 minutes pass, and still no movement from the boy. Finally, after 20 minutes with his head down, the girlfriend leans over and whispers to the boyfriend, "I had no idea you were this religious."
   The boy turns, and whispers back, "I had no idea your father was a pharmacist."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   The bride tells her husband, "Honey, you know I'm a virgin and I don't know anything about sex. Can you explain it to me first?"
   "OK, Sweetheart. Putting it simply, we will call your private place 'the prison' and call my private thing 'the prisoner'. So what we do is: put the prisoner in the prison."
   And then they made love for the first time. Afterwards, the guy is lying face up on the bed, smiling with satisfaction. Nudging him, his bride giggles, "Honey the prisoner seems to have escaped."
   Turning on his side, he smiles. "Then we will have to re-imprison him."
   After the second time, the guy reaches for his cigarettes but the girl, thoroughly enjoying the new experience of making love, gives him a suggestive smile, "Honey, the prisoner is out again!"
   The man rises to the occasion, but with the unsteady legs of a recently born foal. Afterwards, he lays back on the bed, totally exhausted. She nudges him and says, "Honey, the prisoner escaped again."
   Limply turning his head, He growls, "Hey, it's not a life sentence, OKAY?!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He said... I don't know why you wear a bra; you've got nothing to put in it.
   She said... You wear briefs, don't you?

He said... Do you love me just because my father left me a fortune?
   She said... Not at all honey, I would love you no matter who left you the money.

He said... Since I first laid eyes on you, I've wanted to make love to you in the worst way.
   She said... Well, you have succeeded.

He said... You have a flat chest and need to shave your legs, have you ever been mistaken for a man?
   She said... No, have you?

He said... Why do you women always try to impress us with your looks, not with your brains?
   She said... Because there is a bigger chance that a man is a moron than he is blind.

He said... Let's go out and have some fun tonight.
   She said... Okay, but if you get home before I do, leave the hallway light on.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What men would do if they had a vagina for a day:

10. Immediately go shopping for zucchini and cucumbers.
09. Squat over a hand-held mirror for an hour and a half.
08. See if they could finally do the splits.
07. See if it's truly possible to launch a ping pong ball 20 feet.
06. Cross their legs without rearranging their crotch.
05. Get picked up in a bar in less than 10 minutes ... BEFORE closing time.
04. Have consecutive multiple orgasms and still be ready for more without sleeping first.
03. Go to the gynecologist for a pelvic exam and ask to have it recorded on video.
02. Sit on the edge of the bed and pray for breasts too.
01. Finally find that damned G-spot.

What women would do if they had a penis for a day:

10. Get ahead faster in corporate America.
09. Get a blow job.
08. Find out what is so fascinating about beating the meat.
07. Pee standing up while talking to other men at a urinal.
06. Determine WHY you can't hit the bowl consistently.
05. Find out what it's like to be on the other end of a surging orgasm.
04. Touch yourself in public without thought as to how improper it may seem.
03. Jump up and down naked with an erection to see if it feels as funny as it looks.
02. Understand the scientific reason for the light refraction which occurs between a man's eyes and the ruler situated next to his member which causes two inches to be added to the final measurement.
01. Repeat number 9... again, and again.

Why We Love Children

Fri, 05 Aug 2005 09:55:18 GMT

1. A kindergarten pupil told his teacher he'd found a cat, but it was dead.
"How do you know that the cat was dead?" she asked her pupil.
"Because I pissed in its ear and it didn't move," answered the child innocently.
"You did WHAT?!?" the teacher exclaimed in surprise.
"You know," explained the boy, "I leaned over and went 'Pssst!' and it didn't move."

2. A small boy is sent to bed by his father. Five minutes later..... "Da-ad...."
"What?"
"I'm thirsty. Can you bring drink of water?"
"No, You had your chance. Lights out."
Five minutes later: "Da-aaaad....."
"WHAT?"
"I'm THIRSTY. Can I have a drink of water??"
"I told you NO! If you ask again, I'll have to spank you!!"
Five minutes later...... "Daaaa-aaaad....."
"WHAT!"
"When you come in to spank me, can you bring a drink of water?"

3. An exasperated mother, whose son was always getting into mischief, finally asked him "How do you expect to get into Heaven?"
The boy thought it over and said, "Well, I'll run in and out and in and out and keep slamming the door until St. Peter says, 'For Heaven's sake, Dylan, come in or stay out!'"

4. One summer evening during a violent thunderstorm a mother was tucking her son into bed. She was about to turn off the light when he asked with a tremor in his voice, "Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?"
The mother smiled and gave him a reassuring hug. "I can't dear," she said. "I have to sleep in Daddy's room."
A long silence was broken at last by his shaky little voice: "The big sissy."

5. It was that time, during the Sunday morning service, for the children's sermon. All the children were invited to come forward. One little girl was wearing a particularly pretty dress and, as she sat down, the pastor leaned over and said, "That is a very pretty dress. Is it your Easter Dress?"
The little girl replied, directly into the pastor's clip-on microphone, "Yes, and my Mom says it's a bitch to iron."

6. When I was six months pregnant with my third child, my three year old came into the room when I was just getting ready to get into the shower.
She said, "Mommy, you are getting fat!"
I replied, "Yes, honey, remember Mommy has a baby growing in her tummy."
"I know," she replied, but what's growing in your butt?"

7. A little boy was doing his math homework. He said to himself, "Two plus five, that son of a bitch is seven. Three plus six, that son of a bitch is nine...."
His mother heard what he was saying and gasped, "What are you doing?"
The little boy answered, "I'm doing my math homework, Mom."
"And this is how your teacher taught you to do it?" the mother asked.
"Yes," he answered.
Infuriated, the mother asked the teacher the next day, "What are you teaching my son in math?"
The teacher replied, "Right now, we are learning addition."
The mother asked, "And are you teaching them to say 'two plus two, that son of a bitch is four?'"
After the teacher stopped laughing, she answered, "What I taught them was, 'two plus two, THE SUM OF WHICH, is four.'"

8. One day the first grade teacher was reading the story of Chicken Little to her class. She came to the part of the story where Chicken Little tried to warn the farmer. She read, "And so Chicken Little went up to the farmer and said, "The sky is falling, the sky is falling!"
The teacher paused then asked the class, "And what do you think that farmer said?"
One little girl raised her hand and said, "I think he said: 'Holy shit! A talking chicken!'"
The teacher was unable to teach for the next 10 minutes.

9. A certain little girl, when asked her name, would reply, "I'm Mr. Sugarbrown's daughter."
Her mother told her this was wrong, she must say, "I'm Jane Sugarbrown."
The Vicar spoke to her in Sunday School, and said, "Aren't you Mr. Sugarbrown's daughter?"
She replied, "I thought I was, but mother says I'm not."

10. A little girl asked her mother, "Can I go outside and play with the boys?"
Her mother replied, "No, you can't play with the boys, they're too rough."
The little girl thought about it for a few moments and asked, "If I can find a smooth one, can I play with him?"

11. A little girl goes to the barber shop with her father. She stands next to the barber chair, while her dad gets his hair cut, eating a snack cake. The barber says to her, "Sweetheart, you're gonna get hair on your Twinkie."
She says, "Yes, I know, and I'm gonna get boobs too."

WARN AS MANY PEOPLE AS YOU CAN!

Fri, 05 Aug 2005 09:49:56 GMT

If you receive an e-mail entitled "Bedtimes," delete it IMMEDIATELY. Do not open it. Apparently this one is pretty nasty. It will not only erase everything on your hard drive, but it will also delete anything on disks within 20 feet of your computer. It demagnetizes the stripes on ALL of your credit cards. It reprograms your ATM access code, screws up the tracking on your VCR, and uses subspace field harmonics to scratch any CD's you attempt to play. It will program your phone auto dial to call only 0898 numbers. This virus will mix antifreeze into your fish tank. IT WILL CAUSE YOUR TOILET TO FLUSH WHILE YOU ARE SHOWERING! It will drink ALL your beer. FOR GOD'S SAKE, ARE YOU LISTENING?? It will leave dirty underwear on the coffee table when you are expecting company. It will replace your shampoo with Nair and your Nair with Rogaine. If the "Bedtimes" message opened in a Windows 95/98 environment, it will leave the toilet seat up and leave your hair dryer plugged in dangerously close to a full bathtub. It will not only remove the forbidden tags from your mattresses and pillows, it will also refill your skim milk with whole milk.

***WARN AS MANY PEOPLE AS YOU CAN!***

And if you don't send this to 5000 people in 20 seconds, you'll fart so hard that your right leg will spasm and shoot straight out in front of you, sending sparks that will ignite the person nearest you. Send this warning to everyone!!! THERE'S A LOT OF SADNESS IN THE WORLD! Right now, as you read this, 17 Million people are having SEX!!! And look at you - you're on the computer!

Rock/paper/scissors, anyone?

Fri, 05 Aug 2005 09:48:18 GMT

I understand that scissors can beat paper, and I get how rock can beat scissors. But there's no fucking way paper can beat rock. Paper is supposed to magically wrap around rock, leaving it immobile? Why the hell can't paper do this to scissors? Screw scissors, why can't paper do this to people? Why aren't sheets of college-ruled notebook paper constantly suffocating students as they attempt to take notes in class? I'll tell you why: because paper can't beat anything. A rock would tear that shit up in two seconds. When I play RPS, I always choose rock. When someone claims to have beaten me with their paper, I can punch them in the face with my already clenched fist and say, "Oh shit, I'm sorry. I though paper would protect you, asshole."

When Yahoo Messenger advertisements go way too far.

Sun, 31 Jul 2005 00:46:36 GMT

Notice what he's doing in the corner.

Good joke for Hump Day!

Wed, 20 Jul 2005 19:54:07 GMT

An 80-year-old man from Montana went to his doctor for his annual check-up. The doctor asks him how he's feeling.

The 80-year-old says, "I've never felt better! Life is great and I now have a 20 year-old bride who is pregnant with my child. What do you think about that?"

The doctor considers his question for a minute and then begins.

"I have an older friend, much like you, who is an avid trophy hunter and never misses a season. One day, when he was going out hunting, he was in a bit of a hurry and accidentally picked up his walking cane instead of his gun.
"When he got to the creek, he saw a prime beaver sitting beside the stream of water. He raised his cane and went 'bang, bang.' Suddenly, two shots rang out and the beaver fell over dead. What do you think of that?"

The 80-year-old said, "I'd say somebody else pumped a couple of rounds into that beaver."

The doctor replied, "My point exactly."

Out of pure boredom....

Mon, 18 Jul 2005 00:39:15 GMT

Whenever life gets you down
Keeps you wearing a frown
And the gravy train has left you behind
And when you're all out of hope
Down at the end of your rope
And nobody's there to throw you a line

If you ever get so low that you don't know which way to go
Come on and take a walk in my shoes
Never worry bout a thing
Got the world on a string
Cus I've got the cure for all of my blues (all of his blues)

I take a look at my enormous penis
And my troubles start a-meltin' away
I take a look at my enormous penis
And the happy times are coming to stay

I got a sing and a dance when I glance in my pants
And the feeling's like a sunshiney day
I take a look at my enormous pe-e-e-nis
And everything is goin' my way

(whistling)

(ad lib solo)

PE-E-NIS

(end ad lib solo)

Everybody
I take a look at my enormous penis
And my troubles start a-meltin' away
I take a look at my enormous penis
And the happy times are coming to stay

I got great big amounts in the place where it counts
And the feeling's like a sunshiney day
I take a look at my enormous penis
And everything is goin' my way (my trouser monster)
Everything is going' my way (my meat is murder)
Everything is goin' my way (size doesn't matter)
Everything is goin' my waaaaaay
yummmm