Three Hots and a Cot

This guy knew exactly what he was doing.



Some people are so poor they demean themselves for a warm place to stay.

Robin Williams

I had privelage of seeing Robin Williams perform live last week.


In a theatre setting I try and arive early to stake my claim on the airspace I take up as that tall fuck infront of you. I recall how much it sucks when some ogre sits infront of you at a show. This flannel wearing grizzley bear sat infront of me at the nut cracker when I was a kid. He also put one arm around his mom and one arm around his wife to chillax through the whole ballet. Recounting this to my fifth grade teacher, she laughed in my face when I whined "And he didn't even get dressed up!"

So when you arrive at the theatre and find that I am sitting up as tall as I can in the seat infront of yours, hopefully you'll sigh and deal with it.
But when I show up and model my poorly fitting jeans for you as my big boy ass roots itself in blocking your view- once we've made eyecontact it makes it a little more difficult for me to take joy in obliviously ruining your night.
To add insult to injury, when a tall guy takes the seat infront of you, he probably got free tickets and is not that interested in being there.

My free tickets for Robin Williams had me seated in the nonexistent seat reserved for wheelchairs. So just as the folks behind me were thinking "sweet, we've got legroom in lieu of absent tards," I showed up and the usher brought me a highrise chair. (fuck)

Slouching for the benefit of the community my lumbar was screaming throughout the show. And being that my chair wasn't a deep set theater seat, I had virtually no leg room, so my knees were in different time zones making me look like a drunken douce bag at a bachelor party. Unable to lean forward for back relief, I started taking fake bathroom breaks, childishly wasting time doing everything short of flushing all the toilets in the men's room.
Each time I'd return to my chair I'd notice that laughter was ringing out through the crowd but I absolutely could not see anyone around me laughing.

Did I mention that Robin Williams is not fucking funny?

History

This Guy




Wrote This




High as fuck on Cocaine.





His wife and step-son recall him bouncing into the room reading his work unsolicited and then dashing off to write more.

Reminds me of a roommate I had in college.

Compassion

When I see someone with Down Syndrome wearing gangsta clothes, it sorta puts my heart at ease. Perhaps my able-ist centricities have me couple Down Syndrome with tragedy, so when I see someone with Down Syndrome wearing gnagsta clothes, I assume that someone, like a hip older brother, is looking out for them. Either that or it takes the edge off of the gangsta fashion and my mind is put at ease knowing that I will probably survive any gangsta-like attack upon me or my personal belongings.

Anyhow, now you might understand why- when I saw these:









I went, "Awwwww."










It's so benign- and reeks of TLC!!!!






I'm pretty confident in the fact that if either (or both) of those two above tried to front I could just yell "Watch out! Medicine that looks like Candy!!!!" then turn and run away.


I wish I could say that I found those pictures while browsing ultra hip and/or prestigious web venues like npr.org- but really- I just googled "Dolls with Down Syndrome" and it turned out to be a slam dunk.

What I've learned today is:

How to spot a crappy homemade Down Syndrome doll like this ==>

And how to spot the genuine article.






Most of them have their tongue's sticking out, along with the "trademark" flat bridge nose and almond shaped eyes.







Also, it's not a down syndrome doll without the spaced big toe







And check the soft-sculpt
Down Syndrome dolls
for an embroydered crease
on the back of the hands.

This one's a tough one,

but look closely and you'll agree-

She's down syndromey.====>

These dolls seemed to be geered towards that audience of well do to, well intentioned parents with imaginations exceeding any sort of piagetian theory.

Once while teaching preschool I got punched in the balls by a kid, infront of the whole classroom.

All the kids laughed at me, and the Director of the school huffed when I demanded relief while my pain subsided.

She took that little fucker into her office and "had a nice long talk." Returning him to the classroom she asked "Is there anything else you need?" in a snide tone.

Perhaps an apology?" I replied while I refrained from adjusting my nuts.

"I don't see what good that will do." She then addressed my look of surprised dissapointment in her- with,,"They don't learn empathy until age 7 so it won't mean anything."

Where proggressive parents havn't read enough (boring) books, that bitch had read too many, but that does not negate her point.

Just because a doll is thuroughly retarded does not mean the kid is going to learn anything about compassion or caring for different/special people.

My mom had the similar intentions when she got me a Black cabage patch doll named Graham Garnette.

And even if COLECO had made their dolls as gratuitously "correct," as one could to fully encompass The African American-

(sans the gang colors flying from Graham's pocket====>)

I don't think it would have done anything to change how I still, sorta find hanging out with black people to be...

kind of a novelty.

Shudter

I'd say that maybe one in 88 pictures, I look great in. Luckily, I calculate that I've got about 87 pictures to take before we see one this bad again.




When I was a kid my mom forced my sisters and I to eat this horrid dinner she had made. It was an awful tuna casserole and tears were streaming down my face as I gagged through my three bites of compromise. I felt little vindication when my mom finally tried it and then agreed it was foul. The damage was done.
Unbeknownst to the photographer, I was silently reenacting that moment.

Unbeknownst to me, I looked fucking awful.

True Story

I can't say that vegan people, as a whole, bother me- but the vegans in vegan restaurants bother me.
Always sick- you people.
And blowing your nose at the table? Using alternative cookbooks does not warrant you rewriting the rules of etiquette.

So woe is me, when I dip my fingers in the water glass and flick a spritz in this little girl's face while she's watching me eat.

When I was a kid, I couldn't stand on the booth, cuz mom said so. And for certain, I was not allowed to stand on the booth lean over the back of the seat and stare at the adjacent table of diners.
"Are you one of those guys who spanks other people's kids?" asked the girl I was sitting with.
"Flicking water in her face is far from spanking her."
"Yeah but why did you do that? She wasn't bothering anyone."
"She was bothering me," I replied.
"How?"
I wiped my mouth and took a sip of water cuz this was going to be a thorough explanation. "When studying early childhood education, I had a project where I did a lot of research on breastfeeding. I was actually pretty enthusiastic about the topic once I dove into it, and I found myself in seminar with a gripe- 'I'm all for women being able to breast feed in public, but there seems to be a double standard when it comes to overcoming the stigma attached to breastfeeding in public. Why can't I look on and observe?' The girls in the seminar looked at me like I was a pervert but I assured them that my research had earned me a valid fascination with the phenomena. The room got quiet, because none of the women in the class wanted to say 'yeah that is hypocritical- insisting that breast feeding be de-sexualized but then assume that any man looking on is some sort of pervert.' But my professor was able to reduce this quandary to a rule of thumb. 'It's rude to watch people eat.' And thus, that little girl was watching me eat, and it was rude."
Alluding to being an advocate for breastfeeding somehow gives you a pass to be stern with children (I guess) so having capped that conversation, I got up from the table to take a shit.

Oh self governing vegans, why don't you mind your children. And why the fuck are your bathrooms so dirty? I have no problem waiting outside an occupied bathroom, but when the men's room is occupied by a silver back lesbian with the zule hair cut (and her kid) I think I have cause to complain- especially when it's not a good fit for me to take my big meaty shit in the vacant, vegan ladies' room.

When I got back to the table I complained about having to leave the bathroom in better condition than I found it. Much unlike the silver back lesbian who, when we were leaving, was sitting by the door with her old tit in a baby's mouth.

The internet must think we're fucking idiots.

Is this a fucking joke?!?!?!?

I don't know what's more perturbing; some marketing pro thinking that randomly generated "Before" pics coupled with randomly generated "After" pics is a good idea, or that the geniuses behind this add were hoping that they might scoop up the demographic of buxom black women interested in becoming flabby white women who don't have the sense to switch to vertical stripes.

What's more is that the "flab to fab" secret is actually marketing a Colon Cleanse. Is this to imply that African Americans are just white people saturated with impacted waste?

Apparently not because Dr. Andrea Pennington promotes the product yet she's still black. However she might not even be using this product because Demons are usually full of shit and around 1:26 she begins to reveal her true demon self. (watch from 1:26)



Fucking Creepy!!!!!