Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Christmas 09

House sitting for the holidays is nice when out of town friends don't want to go back to their parents' homes after the bar closes.



Not to knock on people from LA but the only people with balls enough to ingest a live worm were me and my pal, The Cobra.




Following that, I may or may not have burned a hole in the rug where I was house sitting.



Can you see it?



(It's at the bottom center of the pic)





My Mom is famous for giving gifts that disappoint. I've decided that when telling my Mom what I want for x-mas, I get very specific and pretty much delegate to her my resupply of calender stationary.




I don't quite understand why she'd package it in an empty box, twice the size of my gift, though.



Was she hoping that I'd find relief when I opened the mysterious box and not find a stupid ebay gift?

My Mid-West Grandma still seems to recall when that kid stole our christmas money, and now she sends my cards in more secure parcels.



My sister will do anything to get others to agree that my dad is strange.




Toilet paper rolls behind your bedroom door is fucking strange.



I came across them when wrapping gifts at my Dad's house.

I have no idea why he'd be hording used toilet paper rolls. I looked it up and seriously, none of this shit is stuff my dad cares about.


Thursday, December 10, 2009

Quirky Family

My Other Sister, the middle of us three kids, has been with her current boyfriend for a few - going on several - years. I'm not sure if marriage is in the cards; based on what my sister's shared with me.

I guess that whenever the topic of marriage comes up, her boyfriend maintains the stance that (for whatever reason) he is not going to marry my sister.

The topic came up recently and the conversation went down the same old path, so my sister, who states she could see herself "getting more and more upset," preemptively kicked her boyfriend out of the bedroom, slamming a locked door in his face.




To which he replied:




(Fuck you door!)

Believe it or not, that was just one kick! However, his foot went through the door and got stuck, so the other 7 sq ft. of door came off when he gracefully withdrew.

I don't know if you can tell... but the door is fucked.
My sister decided that the upper half of the door is door-ey enough to keep up. Unfortunately, it snaps and grinds when they try to open it, so...



They crawl through the hole like people-sized animals.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Impressed

Desert Fire's breakfast is a secret so well kept, it's probably the worst shift for the wait staff to work.

The mimosa's cost One-fucking-Dollar!!!!!

The food was so good I took the left overs to the park.




Seriously, I went home, brought the left overs inside, realized I needed smokes, grabbed the left overs, took them back out to the car, got my smokes, then took the left overs to the park.

I still have yet to eat them.


Update:
I ate them.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Racial

I just heard from a credible source that there's a consensus among women of color that "White guys don't wash their dicks."

"Yeah, like it's locker-room knowledge," said my source. "I was sort of like 'whatever' when my Filipina friends were talking about how white guys don't wash their dicks and they get dick cheese. And then I heard my Black friends mention it all like 'haha dick cheese,' and then my Mexican friends were all..."
I go on to find out from my source that when she calls a guy a dick cheese, she's not calling him a dick cheese.
I've been misinterpreting the saying "Haha dick cheese."

I always thought it meant Look at that douche bag.
It actually means That White guy has a filthy, smagmatic penis.


I felt hella gross when I heard all of this. I'm sure every dude has had first hand experience being 6 years old and seeing what not washing does; but White guys specifically??????

To see if this whole - White guys don't wash their dicks - thing was more of a racial myth than a well earned stereotype, I asked my source "So where does this dick cheese grow?"

"I presume everywhere, if you don't wash your dick. Like on the balls in the folds of the sack and..." She replied.

So the dick cheese component of the myth, being some misnomer that goes way beyond smegma, proves that men of color don't have some sort of upper hand in dick cleanliness because it's not like they're washing their dicks between showers. They're just telling women of color that White guys don't wash their dicks.

White guys, rest assured that washing your dick every time you shower is enough to classify you under "does wash dick." (It's got to be EVERY time you shower though.)

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Mono

My dad gave me a pat on the back for getting Mono. Throughout the whole summer leading up to tenth grade I slept in till 1:pm, napped on picnic tables and played the sick card to avoid getting a summer job.

It was fucking awesome.

Mom could tell my glans were swollen, but only when I put my ear to my shoulder, could you see the epic baseball size mass sticking out of my neck. I was sort of proud of it.

Also, I drank a shit ton of Serge.





My dad would bring by a 12 pack of it every other day; a pseudo, medicinal campaign to help me shake the sand man.

When the summer started, I was short and fat. By the end of summer I awoke tall with even baggier Jncos.

My height is a little bit unprecedented at the family BBQ's, and a little piece of me wants to thank the Surge.

Thank you, my fully loaded citrus soda (with Carbos).







Yes, that's the fat kid from Sandlot.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Monday, October 26, 2009

No Surprise

When my youngest sister's, Junkie Boyfriend got out of jail, she gave him a key to her new apartment, with a keychain that reads "Welcome Home."





Now that he's back in Jail, he doesn't need it anymore. Nor does he need any of the other stuff on The Table.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Sausage Fest

Check out the CIA world Fact Book.

USA

Population

307,212,123


Sex ratio:

total population: 0.97 male(s)/female (2009 est.)

Oh sweet, more girls than guys.

65 years and over: 0.75 male(s)/female
Oh snap, it's all old women!

under 15 years: 1.04 male(s)/female


Life Expectancy

Men: 75.64 years.

That's up! By 3.45 years.
Women: 80.69 years.
That's up too, but only by like... 9 months.

People over the age of 65 make up 12.8% of the population(20.2% under age 15). That means that if everyone was forced to couple up, 248,227 young men would be forced to hook up with whithered old women over the age of 75.

And of course, 8.6 Million women would have to wander around with no chance of ever finding a man. (but keep in mind, they're like... hella old.)

Jail Names

I fully invite you to play around with Arizona's Prison Inmate Database.


You can look an inmate up by their ALIAS!!!







I always thought that a prison Alias was somewhat an honorary title, but the data I've collected is leaning towards the contrary.

First off, if your Alias is something revolving around Money (or Dollaz), it's a 6:7 ratio that you'll have more than one Alias.




However, guys named Killer (et al.) are likely to stick with their Alias, yet only 10% of those guys actually earn the name (as opposed to the 53% of Money guys).




And as far as I'm concerned, out of the many pages of guys called "Monster," these are the only two guys who earned it.


Catfish murdered a wal-mart exec.



And if you've always wondered if you'd be able to fight off a jail rape, then size up the list I've compiled of all the Bubba's currently incarcerated in the State of Arizona.

Based on my intuition, I've delineated the more gentler looking Bubba's to the right hand side.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Huff

Here are two of the three==> Homeless people that are burning trash in the fire place!




She's wearing my youngest sister's clothes... "all the way down to the panties."
(it's in quotes because - of course - I had to hear that. I didn't like... know.)

The kid in her lap is pretty much harmless. And, I'll have you know, there's now a rule in place which prohibits his parents from putting their hands over his mouth when he cries.

The third in their little nomadic family



got smashed in the face with a laptop computer.

The bullshitting with the neighbor's turned into Shit Talking and suddenly a bunch of drunk people in their early 20's were brawling in the parking lot.

It was the neighbor's own laptop, which is so fucking stupid, the cops probably didn't believe it (when the whole force showed up on the scene).

It's sort of ingenious when you think about it. If you smash your own, very expensive, laptop over a guys face you could just say "No I didn't," and the cops will arrest the guy you assaulted.

Which is what happened.

Which is why that baby is with his grandma and his parents both went to jail last night.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Ladies Room

I walked into a restroom the other day, looking for a clean stall. One after another, I kept finding nasty things behind each door. If it wasn't murky and in need of a flush, it had toilet paper strewn about, or water on the seat.

I'm not an emergency type of restroom guy. I was restroom phobic in highschool, so I can relate with those who skip lunch because they have to leave work and go home to cure a stomach ache. But these days, I demand that I be able to evacuate whenever, and where-ever I want.
This is one of the reasons why I love (more like appreciate) having a starbucks on every corner.

Anyhow, being that there was no real urgency in my visit to this dirty restroom, I decided I'd wait till after lunch to take a shit.

Upon my exit, I realized I had walked into the women's room. And had it not been so gross, I would have probably taken a shit in there, and encountered some old lady, and been chased out of the restaurant.

I have mixed feelings over this small stroke of luck.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

They're Back in Town plus one

`

This is Cheddar







He has Fleas and Pees blood.



He's staying with my Sister so that my youngest sister can have maintenance come by her apartment.

What's more is that he's not even my youngest sister's cat! He's crashing at her apartment while his owner (who is couch surfing with her baby) stays with friends who don't allow cats.


And even more retarded: My youngest sister also lives in a place that does not allow cats.



Cheddar used to stay in an apartment that allowed cats, but the people who lived there got fleas. So their cat and Cheddar both got smashed hard with flea treatments until they both started peeing blood.

Once both the cats started to pee blood, they decided to take their cat to the vet... and they told Cheddar to hit the road.



So now he lives with my youngest sister, who took him to the vet - but tonight - he's hiding out at my other sister's house, so maintenance doesn't find out about him.



Obviously when maintenance walks into my youngest sister's apartment, the house is going to stink so bad, he'll write her up for something.

Trust me, there are lots of different things that the maintenance guy is going to smell.

First of all, this guy- click here Whom, this weekend, my dad bailed out of jail.
On the grounds that he delete all the "other bitches," (who aren't my sister) out of his iphone (which my dad hooked up) and also cut his dreadlocks off (which he didn't cuz my sister told him not to.)


Then if not the cat stink that comes with a cat who pees blood, then the maintenance guy will definitely smell the odors of the...

Homeless people that are burning trash in the fire place!

(I shit you not, every word in that sentence is true.)



A 20 year old mooch, her 23 year old ex con "husband," and their 18 year old baby are now crashing on pillows in the living room while happily unemployed.

The baby was 7 months in gestation the last time they "lived," at my youngest sister's place. They ended up leaving town, after never paying rent and now they're back with the baby, who's surprisingly much heavier than we thought it'd be (because - you know... glug glug glug, puff puff puff).

And it's not like they're hard-case homeless people, who went feral on the streets and are instinctively burning trash for warmth, they're just sloppy, trashy fuckers who are too lazy to take trash to the dumpsters. But they fucking drink behind the dumpsters because Dreadlocks is in recovery and the house has rules.



Oh, and I guess that a drug free household only applies to certain drugs because they went ahead and used my youngest sister's kitchen to make Mushroom Fudge.



According to my sister, they didn't mince the shrooms at all, so it looks sorta like this.









I told my youngest sister the same thing I told her last time they moved into her apartment.

"You know they're not gonna pay rent, right?"

But she assured me that this time around, they were getting state benefits for having a baby, so they'd be able to kick down rent. So now they're welcome guests who can break BOTH the dishwasher (clogged with food) and the Washer (tilted from being too full) which is why maintenance is coming.


While maintenance is over, the "homeless" people have to stay with moochy's mom. (Whom they should be staying with anyway - but it's a pride thing - as evident by moochy's famous line "Fuck you mom, don't talk to me like that, I'm Pregnant! I'm a grown ass bitch now!")



Unfortunately, the benefits thing isn't working out. Who would have thought that when you leave Arizona, that Arizona would stop paying for your rent and your kid's daycare?

Not that they needed daycare. They didn't have fucking jobs! Seriously they just took their kid to daycare for 8 hours a day while they chilled at home and lamented over having a child.

From what I've heard, state subsidized daycare was the only parenting that this 18 month old was getting.



Seriously, these are (all of) his toys:




(hopefully they'll wash this after they end up needing to use it)




(I'm pretty sure they'll never "need" this)




(It's a rattle)

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Tried to start something

I thought I'd make it my thing, where I'd go to bars and order a tall glass of milk.







It was supposed to be a subtle bad-ass move, Boy-Named-Sue style.

Most bars don't serve milk, and according to my bartender friend, "Only assholes would order milk."








I never considered that a bartender usually keeps the milk in the "big fridge," and to get to the milk, he has to abandon his post when he should be juggling the taps.










So I guess it makes sense that when I finally, successfully ordered a tall glass of milk, I got a scathing stare-down and the quip "You want a straw with that?"



It came out sorta warm, and sorta tasted like limes, which sorta means it was already going bad.







Then I got to take a shit in a bar.

Monday, September 14, 2009

I heard on the Radio

I heard on the radio that Kanye (Rhymes a word with the same word west) West claims that Beyonce's video for "Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)," is the best video of all time; especially when compared to Taylor Swift's video.

I watched the two videos and I'd have to say he's wrong.

It's not even the best video-where-someone-sings-and-dances-during-the-whole-video-in-one-room-video of all time.

(the song sucks too) In fact, this was exactly the type of video that made me disenchanted with music videos when I was 10.

Before MTV, all you had was the pictures in your head. Some people were totally blown over by music videos because these short films (with stories) dictated - to the day dreamers - what to think, and promoted - for the mindless - to think about stuff when you heard the song.

At the very least, Taylor Swifts video was better because it made a song, which I dislike, bearable while I watched the story in the video.

Beyonce's video might as well be a stage performance. (one of the worst kinds of music videos.)


Beyonce's Video


Taylor Swift's Video

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Sitting Places

There's an irony to how much sitting is involved in traveling.


Planes are fucking stupid.
I tend to avoid going to theatres because I can't smoke during the movie. Not being able to smoke on planes is something I can live with.

But I take it as a big Fuck-You when they tell me I can't smoke, every two minutes between check in and take off, and then make me stare at a picture of a fucking cigarette for 3 hours.






Sitting in bleachers is fucking stupid too.

If it's not the kid grinding his fidgeting knee into my leg,
the prospect of getting fucked by a total stranger when passing money and food between myself and a vendor,
or having to weigh the cost::benefit of pissing your pants vs. stepping on the hand of some mechanic's girlfriend,
then it's definitely the tobacco chewing, Midwestern homophobe singing to country music and bleacher dancing between my legs.


Sunday, August 30, 2009

The Present

If I went back in time to the 50's and were to be asked "Are there flying cars in the future?"

I'd reply "No, we still can't seem to keep cars from crashing on the ground, so letting teenagers, alcoholics and the elderly take to the sky, is probably never going to be in the cards. But, in the future, the smartest scientific mind on earth... talks using a robot computer voice."


Thinking about baseball

My mom was telling me there was a small handful of shirts which she really liked at the store, but once she got them home, she decided she didn't like them.

So she decided to show them to my girlfriend, adding "Because... we're about the same size."

No!

NO!

God Damn it!

Baseball, baseball, baseball, baseball, base-ball, BassBowl, Base Ball, Baseball, Baseball, Baseball, BASEBALL!

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Homefront Drama



Four or Five years ago, my mom let my teenage sister's boyfriend move in.




When he showed up to our house with a fat lip, the story was that his dad tried to beat the gay out of him.
Having a teenage romance under the roof isn't very conducive to -you know- the whole parenting thing, but my mom figured that by letting this soft spoken kid move in,




he might turn his grades around.

The kitchen gets messy, mom keeps re-stating the rules about sharing blankets, and the kid's dad pawns his electric guitar.



Then, not long into his stay, he goes camping with some girl who my sister hates,


and they end up making-out or whatever it is that teenagers do to cheat on each other.
See, my sister was so adamant to have this kid move in, that she spent long, long hours grinding the folks down to convince them it was best for this kid. She slowly won mom over until finally the step dad had no say.

The problem was, to get my mom to let the kid move in, my sister had to hustle this line about how it has nothing to do with her wanting her boyfriend to live at the house, it's that this kid has no safe place to stay.

So when my sister decided she wanted the kid kicked out for cheating on her, my mom was all like "But he has no safe place to stay."
HA!


For months, my sister bounced between getting back together with him, and ratting him out like some jealous step-sister.



I noticed that I was losing shit all the time - cigarettes and cash; here, a hollowed out book; there - until christmas rolled around and we realized this kid was a fucking thief. He stole our fucking christmas money.
And mom wanted to give the kid a super-family christmas, so she bought the kid an electric guitar. (His family wouldn't let him come over on holidays because he allegedly stole $1200 from his grandma)


My mom, not wanting to shatter the image of a perfect christmas, infuriated my other sister by turning a blind eye. There was further outrage after Mom affirmed that we had violated this kid's civil rights by searching his belongings and seizing this impressively, massive bag of grass which coincidentally weighed-out to a dollar amount somewhat similar to that of the stolen fucking christmas money.
So after my other sister paraded around the chirstmas tree with a huge bag of weed, mom created a penalty best described as a mild inquisition. He admitted to owning the bag of weed that was in his backpack and cost as much as the stolen christmas money, but he denied steeling the christmas money.
Case closed.
(Kid gets his weed back)
My other sister punches my sister in the face.

It was an epic christmas.





And this is what that fucking kid got me from the dollar store.





This kid's ascent into his twenties was fit for a thief. The type of thief who would get busted trying to steal the TV from the cabana of his dad's apartment complex.



Luckily, when you're white, you might be able to trick a judge into believing that you are more parts Junkie than parts thief and then Poof! The hardships of being raped in prison are suddenly turned into the mere inconvenience of getting your girlfriend to piss into condoms so you can pass your bi-weekly drug tests.
Seemingly out of the fucking blue, my sister started visiting this kid while he was in county. Completely omitting from her past the stolen christmas money, a $300 burn from her stolen debit card, a screen shot of a forged $5K check which the kid had to delete from his myspace comments, chuckles over seeing him holding a cardboard sign on a downtown street corner, rumors of some really down low shit he did to get heroin, (etc. etc.) she goes out and signs a one bedroom lease that's twice her monthly income and she lets the kid move in.
So now I'm sifting through his myspace pics, and -oh look - here's one of his skid row cronies who just might be strong enough to carry my Flat Screen to the bus stop.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Health Care

60% of all bankruptcies were caused by medical bills.
40% were not.

Of the chunk of Bankruptcies caused by medical bills, 75% of those people HAD MEDICAL COVERAGE!

(75% of 60 is 45)

That means that 45% of all bankruptcies were caused by medical bills that insurance wouldn't pay for.

So the leading cause of bankruptcy is health insurance carriers fucking people over.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

It Takes A Village

My last visit to Disney land was close to ruined by all the crying children. How the fuck does a child come to cry in Disney land?

Always curious about the result of mixing cookies with spankings (would it make one love spankings, or hate cookies?) I've come to find that mixing Disney land with crying children has made me Revel in a child's discontent.

What's more, I love telling kids to "Cut it out," in public.

About a year ago, this woman and her kid sort of cut in front of me and the girlfriend, at a papa murphy's. She did the old While-this-couple-is-deciding-I'll-just-read-the-menu-where-you're-supposed-to-order thing.

So while I was glaring at the back of the bitches head, her kid starts zipping around and decides to get all autonomous at the soda cooler.



One after another, the kid starts budging the caps on the bottles, and I can hear each one hiss from all the way across the store.

"Hey Ivan," I grumble, repeating what I heard his mom call him. "Cut it out," I say in a tone to make it stick.

His mom turned back to smile and chuckle at me the way one does when encountering a loquacious, aging meth-addict.

"He's breaking the seal on the bottles," I inform her.

She looked like this



Only more skeptical. And she squeals "He's thrEEEee!" in the whiny tone which a mom who looks like that would use. "Some ADULTS aren't even strong enough to open those!" she challenged.

"Well," I walked to the cooler, "He opened this one, this one, and this one..." I told her as I squeezed each bottle, "But he didn't open this one." The last, one keeping it's firm composure the way a bottle for sale should.

The kid clutched his mother's leg while she and I stared at each other. Then she turned to the counter and ordered the three bottles her kid picked to fuck up.

I came in my pants. And then I left like some super-hero recess-teacher with an endless pad of D-slips.



Weeks ago I was at Costco doing the whole Put-half-my-food-in-front-of-my-sister-because-$10-does-so-much-damage-in-the-cafe-that-if-all-the-food-I-was-planning-to-eat-was-in-front-of-me-I'd-look-like-one-of-those-fat-microsoft-guys-in-a-wolf-pack-shirt thing.

Seven dollars down, I slide "My sister's food" to my side of the table,



and my sister goes "That kid is wasting onions."

I look across the cafe and see some kid cranking away on the onion machine



watching the business-end shit out onions.


"Hey Kid!" I belt out with a mouth full of polish. "Cut it out."

Every Asian in the place stared at me... but the kid stopped and looked around.

Then the kid started up again - so of course - "HEY KID! Cut It OUT!"

It just so happens that Mother-of-the-year was standing right beside me with her cart. She called him over and made me come in my pants.

"You're not getting any ice cream!"
"No!" he cried. And in his upright tantrum comes bouncing out his mouth "But I really Want it!"

I smiled because my food suddenly tasted better.



Anyhow, this barefoot little shit makes me feel like a dog that's been told not to bark at the TV.




And this one makes me gleeful because I hate shitty parents and their prodigies.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Mars

This is the credible website for the Europian Space Agency:

http://www.esa.int/esaCP/index.html

At that credible site you can find this picture of the Hale Crater on Mars.


Click here for high res


Some huge nerds have noticed that if you mess with the brightness and contrast, you can observe some pretty interesting shit in the bottom left portion of the image.





See the face shaped monument?





See the Cities?