Me: Hello Dr.
Dr Spitzer: Hello Matt. It's been a while since your last visit.
Me: I know. I've been busy.
Dr: With what? I haven't noticed any change in you daily schedule.
Me: Huh? Is that you parked in the green Camry every evening by my house?
Dr: Ahem...Let's move on, and discuss your problems.
Me: Fine. I had another "episode" at work.
Dr: Did this one involve an ice cream cone, handcuffs, and a shaved cat like the other episode?
Dr: Whoops sorry...that is Ruth Jones. Whoops...so much for Dr-Patient confidentiality.
Me: Anyhow, let me explain.
Me: I was sitting at my desk doing my daily work, when I was visited by a co-worker. A little chit-chat ensued, and I saw the conversation nearing an end. He then reached down and grabbed a pair of tweezers from my desk---
Dr: Excuse me? Why do you have tweezers at your desk? Are you a eyebrow plucker or shaver?
Me: These are not normal tweezers. They have a very fine point, and are used when I'm in the lab, and need to move something very small under a microscope.
Dr: Do you clean your teeth with them?
Me: What? That's gross.....although sometimes I pick at my fingernails with them.
Dr: Okay Quasimodo...that's much less disgusting.
Me: So, he grabbed the tweezers, and walked out of my cube. I was slightly dumbfounded, and just sat there for a minute. He returned a minute later, and said "Finished!"
Dr: Finished with what?
Me: He proceeded to tell me that was able to pluck his gray hairs by his ears with "pinpoint accuracy."
Me: No...No...Not impressive. Disgusting! My lab/fingernail tweezers were just used as a grooming tool for a stranger.
Dr: I'm not sure why you're so upset.
Me: I'm not finished.
Me: He then notices my earphones connected to my Mp3 player. They are the kind with removable squishy ear buds at the end. He asks if they have good sound quality, and I answered in the affirmative. He then proceeds to grab them, and stick them in his ears, and asks for a demo....like I'm running a second-hand Best-buy or something.
Dr: So...what did you do? Did you get upset? Did you ask him to put the earphones down?
Me: Not exactly.
Dr: What exactly.
Me: I turned on some music.
Dr: You are an enabler. He is obviously someone who has no issues invading personal space or possessions, and you just fed the beast.
Me: I was flabbergasted. I froze. I felt like I was 14 at a church youth dance, and Cami Dyer came up and asked me to slow dance. I didn't say anything...i just froze.
Dr: So what are you going to do?
Me: It's already done. I threw away the ear bud attachments and the tweezers.
Dr: Why didn't you just clean them off?
Me: There isn't enough rubbing alcohol in the world to cleanse the mental images. Those items are dead to me.
Me: In fact, at that point I wouldn't have been surprised if he stuck his hand down my pants and asked why I preferred boxers over briefs?
Dr: Did you want him to stick his hand down your pants?
Me: No!! I'm just saying that I was frozen, and felt "possession-raped."
Dr: Calm down mister...those are strong words...I should know. Here are my suggestions. Get a shiny marble, and cover it in pepper spray or mace. Leave it on your desk, and then when he returns, tell him that it is a "flavor-ball" direct from India. He'll pop that cleary into his mouth, and the hilarity will ensue.
Me: That sounds like a terrible thing to do.
Dr: Yes it does. And that suggestion is free...as a friend.
Me: Now, about your nightly voyeur habits....
Friday, June 19, 2009
Me: Hello Dr.
Friday, April 24, 2009
I hate people who just post Youtube videos on their site, but this one is too good to pass up.
It's not funny at all, but one of the most amazing things I've ever seen. Well worth the 5 minutes, especially what he does at 3:10.
This is the coolest thing from Scotland since bagpipes.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Dr Spitzer: Hello Matt. Please sit down. Can I get you some coffee?
Me: No thank you.
Dr: So, what's on your mind?
Me: Well, I had a terribly disgusting experience at work, and having nightmares about it.
Dr: Oh...I see. Is this the one with the janitor, and the urinal cakes--
Me: Can we please not talk about that anymore?
Dr: Yes..I'm sorry. Go on.
Me: You see, there is this guy I work with who comes over to my cube on a regular basis to chat.
Dr: You do realize this is healthy behavior...talking with co-workers.
Me: I haven't finished my story yet.
Dr: Oh...I thought that was the end. Go on.
Me: Well, yesterday he was sitting in my cube discussing something mundane, when in mid-sentence he hawked a loogie.
Dr: What was he trying to sell you?
Me: No..he hawked a loogie. You know...he snorted some mucus.
Dr: Don't you mean loagie?
Me: No...I think it's called a loogie.
Dr: Really? I have always called it a loagie. Maybe I'm getting it confused with a large sandwich. In fact, that's probably what they call a mucus hoagie---a loagie? Lol.
Me: Are you finished?
Dr: Go on, but I don't see the problem in pulling a little nasal snort in public. Many people do.
Me: I don't think you understand the depth of this snort. He was in the middle of his sentence and then paused. He gave a short blank stare, like he was pondering his situation, and then he dug down to the depths of his soul for this mucus ball. In fact, I've never seen a human being look so introspective while producing mucus. It was like he was performing some act of contrition.
Dr: So, we've established that he's fairly disgusting. Let it go.
Me: I haven't gotten to the worst part yet.
Dr: I apologize. By the way, if you start using that loagie joke, make sure you give me the credit.
Me: Sure. Anyhow, after stopping mid-sentence to visit the inner reaches of his nasal cavity, the unthinkable happened.
Dr: He pulled out a multi-pack of urinal cakes??
Me: I told you to drop that! No, he hawked this loogie, and it obviously ended up in his mouth.
Dr: How do you know?
Me: Let me repeat--Mid-sentence--Snort--Pause--and then....he started chewing on something. It was like some foreign object had entered his mouth, and his tongue was exploring the surface.
Dr: I'm riveted and disgusted at the same time...like when I get into the shower, and--
Me: Dr!! Please!
Me: So, he is obviously unsure about how to deal with this fleshy goo in his mouth.
Me: 3 chews, and a swallow.
Me: He just swallowed the little bastard, grabbed his coffee, and washed down the particulates and stragglers.
Dr: Right in front of you?
Me: Not only that, but then continued his sentence like none of this ever happened. I would have been less shocked had he pissed his pants. So I'm attempting to listen to his sentence, but I'm really just wondering if that's the mouth he kisses his momma with.
Dr: What would have him do? Spit it out?
Me: Yes!! His body was trying to expel the mucus, and he didn't follow through with the job.
Dr: This is truly a horrible experience. What can I do to ease your pain? Drugs?
Me: Sure...can I just get the combo pack again?
Dr: Done. My receptionist will have your prescription available at the front desk.
Me: Thanks Doc. I appreciate it.
Dr: Also, you forgot to pay for your last visit.
Me: You had me listen to Abba music for 30 minutes while you took a nap!
Dr: I love that Dancing Queen.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
I was lying in bed the other night, and a great idea for a book popped into my head. Actually this is not correct. At first I believed it was a great idea, but it quickly unraveled into one of the many movie plots I've seen in the past.
The premise was about a group of scientists who experimented on humans to increase their 5 senses. Blah Blah Blah...lots of other boring plot, and I was about to abandon the idea when the title "Common Sense" came to me. I liked the title so much that I may still visit the idea. Is a book idea worth pursuing for a title alone?
I was excited thinking of the topic at first, but most of the plot-line led into "food tasting really good," and "sex being really good." (even for women)
Maybe I'll write it and submit it to Penthouse letters instead.
Why is it, that weight gain occurs everywhere on your body except your wang? In fact, the theory of relativity states that it will look smaller and smaller as you get larger. Why is nature so cruel?
Speaking of weight gain, I think I may have issues, as I compare everything to food.
Coworker: Did you like Slumdog Millionaire?
Me: Yes. It is like that great Mexican place that everybody visits, but is still really cheap.
Friend: How are your March Madness brackets going?
Me: Like a Taco Bell Nachos Supreme without the cheese.
Wife: Are you coming to bed?
Me: Do I need a reservation, because I have a 2-for-1 coupon for the all-you-can-eat buffet.
Wife: Is this another one of your creepy ways to ask for sex?
Me: Is it working?
Wife: Does it look like it?
I believe that you'll be seeing much less of me around here in the future.
I have plenty of stuff to write about, but sometimes I feel like a slave to the schedule. I'll be the first to admit that I like people reading my blog, and appreciate the time you take out of your schedule to do so. Unfortunately, if I post once or twice in a 4 week period, there won't be many people left to come and visit. I usually don't visit a blog that doesn't update their content regularly. I just subscribe to their feed. The same will happen here.
My inner Tony Robbins has told me that "I own my blog," not the other way around. Posting less regularly will show my blog that I am the boss...even if it does mean that I will lose a lot of traffic and visitors.
Here's the kicker about the spawn of this blog. It was born from the afterbirth of ridicule.
I was unfamiliar with the blogosphere until last Spring. After catching wind of all these "Mommy blogs" who posted pictures of their house, children and dog, I had a field day. Why would someone want to post this private information on their blog? I will know when you are out of town, what color you changed your hair to, when your kids have puked, etc.
There are blogs about cats, horses, Dungeons and Dragons, Pinoy scams, Lottery numbers, Sexual positions, and thousands of other items. Why couldn't I write a little bit of humor on a blog?
My grammar skills have always bordered upon piss-poor, and I have never formulated my thoughts well on paper. In person, I can spin a yarn with the best of them, but I wanted this to translate to print. Like many bloggers, I someday would like to write a book, although it would not be humor.
It struck me that it doesn't matter what anyone writes about---usually they are passionate about the topic. This is where I have gained respect for most blogs out there. Perhaps you carry your camera 24/7 in order to capture every situation your kids may see. You then share your feelings thoughts and pictures to ten's of people who may actually want to see them. Good for you, and for sharing yourself. (On this note, and being completely truthful---why would you want pictures of your children and family in the public domain? I suppose that ignorance is bliss, and you may not care who views pictures of your family. I feel there is too much depravity in the world today, and if some 49 year old pervert wants to collect pictures of children on swings, he won't have mine in his library.)
After almost a year of blogging, I have put out some good and crappy posts. I have also gained a respect for anyone that shares a little part of themself, whether it be through their pets or their kids.
I always tried to steer clear of topics that I wouldn't want my kids to read as teenagers. I would hope that in 5 years, my oldest daughter could read my blog and get a little chuckle. (At the moment, I have very little....especially in front of her friends)
Regardless of what others thought about the humor here, I knew that I could always make my wife laugh....and this means a lot to me. She didn't care what my bounce rate was, how many unique visitors I received, or that I crossed 1000 visitors in one day last month. She just enjoyed the writing....and that's why I'll still post here from time to time.
So, please go to the right-hand corner and subscribe to this feed. I promise that roughly 50% of my posts will be funny....even if you only get one a month.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I believe that many of my current issues can be traced back to my childhood. I'd write a book of weird childhood experiences, but am certain that I'd be sued for defamation.
My elementary school years were spent every day with my best friend. (we'll call him Joe)
We spent every day together playing in the fields near our houses. We built forts, caught fish, and shot birds with a BB gun. I'd leave in the morning, and wouldn't return home until dinner. I'm surprised my Mom allowed it. Times must have been different then.
If my kids leave the premises of my property, my internal "psycho" dad alarm goes off, and my over-protective Dad genes take control. I'm on the ready, like John Matrix in Commando to do whatever it takes to protect my children.
One afternoon, Joe and I went on a search for his Christmas presents in his parents home. We searched through the garage and house until our journey led us to his Mom's closet. He stood on the chair and pulled down a large stack of boxes. We found old keepsakes, boxes of scarves, and were about to move on to the next hiding spot...until we came to the last small box.
I went out of the room to ensure that nobody was around to catch us in the act. Feeling comfortable that we would not be caught looking at the new GI Joe or Lego set, I went back into the room.
Joe had opened the box, and was examining its contents. Unfortunately, it was not a toy. Well, that is incorrect. It was not a toy that we were interested in...but I'll be damned, it sure was a toy.
(Note to readers. I was a VERY innocent boy raised in a religious household. I was slow on the "perversion" curve. In my defense, I have caught up, and surpassed most others since this point. My mom would be disgusted.)
Joe reached out of the box, and pulled out what I could only describe then as the handle of a light saber. Other pieces were in the box, and obviously attached to the light saber like some sort of transformer. (Boom...I just coined "prior art" on any future adult toy that might be called "Rodimus prime." If you see this in the future, let me know, and I'm suing.)
The wife saber actually looked like Hellraiser had designed a new line of cat toys made out of silicone....spiky balls, dangly things, extensions.
In my defense, I didn't touch any of the box's contents.
We moved on looking for the Christmas toys as this was obviously not our ultimate destination.
Needless to say, some things should be kept in the gun safe.
And please...for the sake of the children, lets keep the comments PG-13. Remember the children!!
Monday, March 16, 2009
Amidst the collapse of our economy and my 401K, I always try to look on the positive side,
Take the economic hardships, and political shenanigans on both sides of the aisle.
This has literally been the draw for over 40% of my posts. If it wasn't for the economy and poop jokes, this blog would cease to exist.
So to maintain the 40% coverage of the financial crisis, I wanted to share another positive that we can take out of this mess.
I dare say that the most common phrase in today's society is "because of the economy," or some variant of this. In fact, this has become the great excuse for millions across the country.
"Are you buying a car?"
"Not in this economy."
"Let's go out to dinner."
"I can't afford it in this economy."
"Did you see the game?"
"I canceled my cable because of the poor economy."
I will admit, that I have said similar things, or thought it to myself, but I think we can take this excuse much further than we already do.
I believe that I/we can use the economy as an excuse for just about anything in our lives.
Neighbor: I noticed you still have your Christmas lights up. You realize that it's almost Easter right?
Me: I was going to take them down a couple months ago, but haven't found time in this poor economy.
Neighbor: That doesn't make sense. What does the economy have--
Me: See ya. I'm late for my pedicure.
Any random telemarketer: You would be foolish to not take advantage of this new interest rate!
Me: I would be foolish to refinance my house when I may get laid off in the next 6 months because of the economy.
ARM: But these rates are at an all-time low.
Me: What would you say if I told you that I bathing in salsa right now? Would you suggest Doritos or Tostitos?
Nurse: You weigh 179 pounds. This is your heaviest weight ever.
Me: I have really been down lately because of the economy.
Nurse: You do realize that your ass looks like a giant cheese block trampled by football players?
Me: Did you say something about cheese? mmmm.
Cable Internet provider: The block was placed on your account because you were downloading illegally.
Me: I can't afford Internet service AND to buy Cd's in this economy. Which should I stop purchasing?
CIP: I'm sorry sir, but that isn't my problem.
Me: Then why are you calling me? Click
Wife: Did you do another blog post today?
Wife: What is it about?
Me: The financial bailout.
Me: In this economy, what else do expect to write about? Poop? Hmm...that gives me a couple new ideas.
Friend: The new U2 album isn't very good.
Me: I hear it was because of the economy. Or perhaps that their combined age is like 250 years.
In fact, I've heard this excuse in the damnedest places lately.
Me: (nudging wife) How's the weather over there? (wink wink)
Me: You know, what does the forecast show for me tonight?
Wife: What are you talking about? Why are you winking?
Me: C'mon, my "warm front" is approaching in front of a big love storm.
Wife: Are you asking for sex in the form of "weather analogies?"
Me: Umm...I suppose. Is it working?
Wife: That is the weirdest thing I've ever heard.
Wife: You know....I really want to....but this news on the economy has gotten me really down. Sorry.
Me: Can you give me a 5-day forecast? How about the 10-day?
Random guy at restaurant: I've heard people are cutting spending so much in this poor economy, that many are shopping at thrift stores for clothes.
Random guy's friend: I think you're right. At Walmart yesterday, I noticed a bunch of people wearing sweats.
Me: (In my head, screaming as loud as I can) You idiots....I've been playing "sweats-count" at Walmart for years. My daily best is 27. 27 PEOPLE WEARING SWEATS in one building that isn't called Golds Gym!
Employer: I'm sorry Matt, but we're going to have to let you go.
Me: What! This is terrible. Was it because of the poor economy?
Employer: No. It is because of the 250 megs of video clips downloaded from Rock of Love: Love Bus.
Me: But I like Brett.....
Friday, March 13, 2009
As an engineer, I took grundle-loads of Physics and Math classes in college. I found it interesting that science had explanations for everything in our world. Physics equations could be used to describe the melting of a Popsicle, or the transfer of sound from a fart through jeans.
In a previous post, I described laws of the Universe that we see in our world today. Unfortunately, my quasi-boring-analytical mind is recognizing more patterns in the world of entertainment and politics that are completely described by science.
(On a completely separate note which will be completely surrounded by parentheses; the word "science" is used far too flippantly today. How do we know global warming is true? Science. How is global warming not true? Science. If science a proper noun? Should it be capitalized? Should we refer to Science/science as a deity? What about someone referring to the "science of God?" Isn't this a problem statement? Something like dueling banjos? I digress.)
The Fibonacci weight gain sequence:
As you know, the Fibonacci sequence relates to a mathematical list of numbers where the next number is the calculated by the sum of the two previous numbers.
I am currently practicing this mathematical model in terms of my weight gain. Let's form a hypothesis.
I enjoy eating Nachos Bellgrande from Taco Bell. Eating these every day for a week will enlarge my stomach, thus requiring me to eat more Nachos Bellgrande. Along with this comes increased weight gain.
And from there, the sequence is set. Week 2 I eat two Nachos Bellgrande's a day, and enlarge my stomach even further. The ensuing weight gain is evident.
Pretty soon, the numbers are so high, that my ass has more dimples than a golf ball, and my gut can actually house an entire bowl of Fruity Pebbles with limited milk spillage.
The Geometric sequence of child-birthing and irritability:
Currently Octomom is following this pattern in regards to having children. The next go-around of in vitro may yield 48 children.
In addition, the byproduct of this scenario is the level of irritability that we all have when we hear about this stupid situation. I'm obviously not helping here.
The OJ to the zeroth power rule of constancy:
Any number to the zeroth power is one. OJ proves this rule every time.
Take any act that OJ has committed, and you'll always get the same result---His self-proclamation of innocence. Never fails.
In addition to patterns, probability plays a large role in our world. Let's explore.
The Guassian law of broken promises:
The middle class of today's society obviously is the largest makeup of income, or should we say they are 1 sigma of the distribution.
Now let's see what politicians promise to the rich (upper tail of the distribution), poor (bottom tail of the distribution), and the middle class.
To the poor--We'll give you lots of money and programs to help bring you out of poverty. TRUE
To the rich--We'll raise your taxes as you have plenty of money. You need it less than others. TRUE
To the middle class--We'll lower your taxes, lower your bills, and help you out. (note the Grey term---"help" the middle class) FALSE
The wandering ant on a square grid of economics:
Take the case of a wandering ant on a grid. Each step moves him to a new square.
Will the ant still be on the square in 10 steps? 100 steps?
This same law applies to bank bailouts. Will AIG or Citigroup still be around after 7 bailouts? 10 bailouts? Who knows? Let's keep trying the experiment...it's not like my children have anything better to do with the money.
The stimulus plan of percolation:
Imagine you place a porous stone in a bucket of water. What are the odds that the water will reach the center of the stone?
Same concept with Uncle Sam. They sure are throwing a bunch of water at the problem, but will it reach its intended target? (See Gaussian law of broken promises above)
And lastly, there is one that may affect more people than any above.
Janitor's law of probability:
When a janitor comes calling in a work restroom for some cleaning, there is a 86% chance that you are only 14% into your craptacular experience.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I realize that as parents, we have a responsibility to teach our children the morals and principles that we deem correct, and then let them choose for themselves. There are some ideas and teachings that I feel are important, and try to emphasize these strongly.
Unfortunately, there are other things I think I am passing on which may be unintentional.
You'd think that our house would be rocking with Hannah Montana or the Jonas Brothers as I have 9 and 6 year old daughters.
You'd also think with my 2 little boys, that "Hot potato" by the Wiggles would be constantly sung in the car.
Just yesterday, my 6 year old daughter started into "I used to roll the dice." (Viva la Vida by Coldplay)
And then later in the car, my 4 year old son turned in a Jagger-esque performance when he bursts out with "I see a red door, and I want it painted black." (Paint it black by the Stones)
So much for the Golden rule, stay away from strangers, or don't litter....My kids are obviously gleaning only what they wish from my parenting.
Monday, March 9, 2009
In a spot of late news, I wanted to discuss the firing of JD Fortune from INXS. If you haven't heard, it was reported that the band told Fortune that we don't have What you need.
For those that don't know Fortune, he was the winner of the 2005 reality show entitle Rockstar: INXS. He was able to Mystify the crowd and band to take the place of former lead singer Michael Hutchence who had killed himself years earlier, perhaps wrestling with a Devil Inside.
Fortune states that he was left with a handshake in the Hong Kong airport with no Bitter Tears, and went On my way. He obviously wanted to Disappear as he know lives in his car. (not known if it is down by the river)
INXS responded by saying his statement was untrue, and that they had lost Faith in Each Other. Even their manager did not choose to Mediate the situation, and categorically denied Fortune's claims.
I am one who is truly disappointed by this news. I have followed INXS from their beginning, and hoped that the Afterglow from their TV series would propel them to more good music.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
I can remember the last time I intentionally littered. I was 16 years old, and had just visited a fast food joint with some buddies. After finishing the burgers, I noticed the guys throwing their garbage on the floor of my car. I quickly told them to clean up their trash, which was followed by defiant laughter. I pushed the issue, and they said that the only other place to put it was outside. A few of them threw their trash out the window while I was driving, and to be as "cool" as them, I followed their lead.
I may have littered previous in my life, but I don't remember it. I definitely remember this time. I felt awful. We had literally piled a dozen burger wrappers and our drink cups on the side of the road.
I felt so bad, that I later returned to the scene of the crime to clean up the mess.
Since this time, I try very hard to clean up after myself. Don't misunderstand me...I'm not thinking about joining Greenpeace, or giving money to do away with landfills. I drink bottled water, receive about 78 plastic bags every trip to Walmart, and flush all my condoms.
I live in a blue-collar Podunk town in Idaho. And unfortunately, our city is dirty. Trash in the streets, trash in many yards, and trash in the fields. The car wash I frequent had an old washer and dryer lying in the adjacent gully for months. You'd think that someone would have strapped them to the roof of their Cutlass Supreme as the "wanted" section of our local Craigslist is the largest of all the sections.
Perusing Craigslist the other day, I noticed that someone had asked for a free car. They didn't want a piece of crap, as the the ad stated that they "needed something newer than a 2002, so that they didn't have to do any repairs." They also mentioned that they were "short on cash, but could trade vacuuming and bathroom cleaning" for the car. I didn't respond, as I need my car, and I especially didn't want someone to clean up my pubic hair.
The other night, my family visited a local eating establishment. My son (4 years old) came out with me a couple minutes before the rest of the crew were finished as I needed some fresh air.
His attention was quickly turned to a hubcap that was lying on a grass berm. He went over and tossed it around, despite my 16 requests to come to the car. I used angry tone, nice tone, loud voice, patient voice, but no dice. Somehow he didn't see me as a threat as I never got up from the drivers seat.
The wife came out with the rest of the crew, and he saw that he would be left at the Taco Time unless he got in the car. As he ran to the car, his eyes instantly turned to an empty beer bottle in the parking lot. As boys are prone to do, he picked up the bottle and gave his best impression of Ichiro. Unfortunately, as he pulled his arm back to make the toss, the open end of the bottle was pointed down, and the contents of the bottle emptied onto his head and clothes.
He turned to me wondering why it looked like he'd just been freed from the Matrix. The gooey sludge that covered his head was unbelievably disgusting.
My kids have done some pretty disgusting things, and put some pretty gross things in their mouth.
It wouldn't be stretching the truth to say that my kids have had any/all of the following in their mouth:
Toilet water turned yellow.
Human fecal matter.
But the gut-wrenching smell that emanated from my son, topped all disgusting experiences to date.
As he approached, the tell-tale smell of mint snuff permeated the air. Yes...my son had poured tobacco spit on himself. If he was 18, he could probably have filmed it with his shirt off and made some money.
As we rode home with the windows down, and a naked kid in the car seat, my resolution to never intentionally litter was cemented.
So, the next time you feel the need to leave a Mt. dew bomb, used needle, or an old retainer in a parking lot....think again. My 4 year old will find it, and I will hunt you down like Liam Neeson in "Taken."
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
AP: Backwoods Idaho -- I'm calling this press conference to set the record straight about my past performance. I need to address rumors that I took performance-enhancing substances to enhance my blogging.
First, bear with me. I'm a little nervous, or a lot nervous. Let me start by thanking fellow bloggers, and my half-dozen fans for your support.
Unfortunately, it is true that I also took substances in the past to increase my blogging performance.
On one hand, it's a little difficult to admit mistakes, but on the other hand, it feels good to move forward.
I took these substances in 2008 from July to September. I was posting far more regularly than I do know, and humorous material was coming to me much quicker.
I screwed up big time!. Me and my cousin started taking substances that he got from the Dominican Republic. My cousin would supply me with things to keep my performance high.
When you're young and stupid, you're young and stupid.
I didn't know what effect the substances would have, or whether I was even taking them properly.
I would hope that we can move forward, and I would hope that you would judge me from this day forward.
This concludes the press conference, and no questions will be taken.
ESPN correspondent Tim Kurkjian:
You have just heard a stunning announcement that could forever hang over the career of this mediocre blogger.
Our crack investigative team has discovered more details into this shocking revelation. It has been found that for the period of time from July-Sep 2008, Matt's cousin was supplying him with Vero Mango candy, Chiclet's gum, and Tamarind soda pop.
These items can be very dangerous when taken together, and will certainly help blogging performance.
Let's take a look at the stats, and you'll see the correlation.
In the July-Sep time frame, Matt had posts that not only attracted more visitors, but garnered several more comments that he's had at other times in his career. For example, take a look at:
News you really need to peruse
Banana hammocks out in full force
Reason #17 why you shouldn't shop at the Wal-marts.
In addition, his posting percentages were astronomically higher. In this timeframe, he averaged almost 4 posts a week. He's lucky to put out 2 pieces of drivel a week in his current state. And have you read the stuff he has lately? He's starting to talk much more about his personal life, rather than put out a half decent humor piece. Who cares if he's growing a beard, or is working on finishing his basement.
Some may actually wonder if Matt should start taking these substances again, just so his material borders on the readable. In its current state, "That tears it...!" should probably be rescined by blogger. He's an embarrasment to this profession, and can't even crack the top 20 on Humor-blogs. Even LOL cats can make a top 20 list. What a shame.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Over the years, I have tried all sorts of facial hair. Soul patch, Poets beard, chops, mutton chops, lamb chops, chin strap etc. In fact, the only thing I've never tried is a full beard, or any sort of hair on my upper lip. I've always been morally against having any sort of mustache. It seemed so dirty.
So in my forced furlough from work, I decided to let my face go completely ape-man. It was a disgusting sight, and has since been shaved. For your enjoyment, I bring you to my first (and probably last) caption contest. It is the full beard in all its glory.
Flame away. The meaner the better. I overcame my physical short-comings year ago.
I'll get things started with a few suggestions of my own. Whomever I deem the winner of the contest can have their choice of 500 EC credits, tips on how to dominate at Call of Duty 4, or just good old fashioned blog-comment praise.
Hey, is that the ugly twin of J.D. from Scrubs?
(the wookie sound)
Why did you crop your fat gut out of the picture?
Is that a grown-out flat-top?
As you're now on a government watch list, every flight will be a "red-eye" from now on.
At least it hides your double chin. (or is it triple?)
You've got a face made for radio.
What the Hell is with your creepy right eye?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
It appears that having fish as a pet is no longer interesting for my kids. You'd think that having fish called Tiger barbs, Gouramis, and Clown Loaches would be enough for a kid.
It's obviously not as we've been getting the full-court press from the kids to get a more interesting pet.
We've decided to take the "used car purchasing" policy with the kids. The more they ask for, the more we retreat in our compromises.
As a family outing, we decided to hit the local pet store for a little hands-on experience. Now, this is not your normal Petco or Petsmart. This is a local joint which carries everything from tarantulas to chinchillas. They even have an outdoor petting zoo with all sorts of interesting animals. The kids ran directly past all the "potential pet choices," and went straight to see the Ostriches, pot-bellied pigs, and the Yak.
As I stared at a Yak, and wondered if this was the only one in Idaho, I came to the conclusion that hundreds of years ago, the original name for this hairy cow was probably Yuck. (Mainly due to its smell and 11 pounds of crusted feces hanging off the butt-shag) Tibetan monks must have felt bad for the animal, and changed it. Or perhaps they thought that it would be guessed easier on Wheel of Fortune with an A instead of a U.
After corralling the kids back into the pet store, they headed straight for the puppies. I looked at all the dogs, and noticed that they only carried puppies. Why? Because they are all cute, including the Beagle/Collie/Carp mix on the bottom row. This is an ingenious sales technique. Let me give a real-world example.
You are at the club with some friends cruising for a hook-up. After a few of your favorite beverages, you're feeling mighty fine, and decide to hit the dance floor. "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails starts pumping through the speakers, and you go on the prowl. In a dark corner, an available female is giving you "lusty eyes." She passes your hottie test, and you both dance the night away, and continue the party at your apartment.
You wake up the next morning to find a complete stranger in your bed. What was a complete hottie at the club, now resembles Mindy Cohn, but with the complexion of Gregg Popovich.
Rather than toss her to the curb, you feel like you have something invested, so you call her back, and a relationship starts. It's not the best relationship, but it's better than nothing, and you like the companionship. She is a complete pig, and leaves hair on the bar of soap. You fight a lot, but enjoy the bowling league you both participate in. Over time, you grow fond of her, but a painful breakup inevitably occurs. Amazingly, you realize how much happier you are without her in your life, and vow never to meet a woman in the club again. **
How did this start? All on the sales room floor my friend.
Alcoholic beverages, dark dance floor, mood music, and strobe lights. (On a separate topic, it is my belief that strobe lights make everything you do look 73% better. Dancing, fighting, washing dishes, etc)
The same thing occurs in the pet store. Cute little puppies give you "lonely eyes" while some Sarah McLaughlin music pipes on the overhead. Your kids instantly pick out their favorite and you have no choice but to buy the dog for 200 bucks, and head home. 3 weeks later, your entire house smells like urine, you no longer own a complete set of slippers, and your budget for lint rollers increased 800%.
Oh, you may grow fond of the dog over time, and actually like its company. Some say that their dogs are like their children. True, that they both ruin all your possessions, pee and throw up at will, but dogs will never give you grandchildren. Remember this.
Unfortunately for the Boxer pups, and to the dismay of my children, I herded the family over to the "lower maintenance" pets. After deciding that they had no interest in a spider, hermit crab or more fish, we decided that a rodent would probably be the best starting point.
Unfortunately for me, this whole section smelled like Matthew McConaughey's armpits. I was amazed at how much stink a hamster or guinea pig could generate. After talking to the salesman, he assured me that a gerbil urinates far less than the other rodents, and smells less.
Did you know that a gerbil looks exactly like a mouse? In fact, I wonder if they really are mice, but they just renamed them so people wouldn't freak out at owning a mouse.
I'm not fooled. Just because they switched out Dick York with Dick Sargent on Bewitched doesn't mean that anybody was fooled.
Alas, it appears that some sort of rodent will be living free in our home after escaping from its cage. I'm laying out the
**By the way, the exact same thing happened to the girl. She didn't realize that you looked like Andy Richter, only softer, and you also brush your teeth only once a day.
Monday, February 16, 2009
I receive a few odd e-mails to the address that represents this web-site. (firstname.lastname@example.org) Most of them are from rich Nairobi princes, or from best friends explaining how to prolong pleasure for a lady.
I received a more interesting email from a reader who found my web site by googling "random pictures of dead people real dead people gross stuff."
This reader landed on this page describing my experiences with the nether-regions of this world. (as opposed to the nether-regions of my body)
I almost deleted the e-mail upon reading the search term used to find my page. Let's use at least one Boolean expression or quotes to limit the search results.
Upon further reading, the writer described that she also had the same sleep issues and ghostly experiences I have. She went on to say that by "finding Jesus," she was able to overcome these strange occurrences. In fact, the way she did it was to "throw out a tarp of love and willingness to submit and devour evil in her mind."
While I appreciate the help and encouragement, it got me thinking about a few things.
First, why haven't the Jesus freaks gotten on this whole spam e-mail thing? Where's the innovation? I receive hundreds of e-mails daily from scammers in Africa, penis enlargement firms, and cheap prescription benefits companies. You're telling me that there's no group out there trying to send out e-mails with the subject line "You're going to Hell"?
As I scanned through the spam folder, I would totally stop and check this e-mail out. You could have it be from Jesus, and have the subject line say "Damn you."
In fact, they should take it a step further. Who hasn't been in a laundromat, and seen the pamphlets inviting you to take Jesus in your life? All you need to do is sign your name at the back of the pamphlet. I've put my John Hancock on hundreds of these "just to be sure."
Why not have something similar in an e-mail. A big CLICK HERE TO ACCEPT JESUS link in the e-mail should do fine. Wouldn't this be the same thing?
Or even better, when you click the "accept Jesus" link, it can install some spy ware on your PC. Then every time you try to surf porn, a crash of lightning would run across your monitor warning you of your impending doom.
These are great ideas. I need to be hired in the creative department.
It's also curious to me when people invite you to "find Jesus" as this lady did. Is this the best terminology available? Aren't there others better suited for the job?
You'd think that there are other groups that are well-funded involved in finding Jesus. The CIA, AP, NASA, Don King, etc.
You could start a small children's show called Where in the world is Jesus, and get Rockapella to write a theme song.
And then what happens when they find him? Who wants to see an article on CNN.com stating "Jesus found in Phoenix eating a Whataburger." Don't you think that would be kind of a let-down? What would PETA think? I think most would like to think of the Holy One sitting on his throne in Heaven wielding unlimited power and knowledge, not super-sizing a curly fry.
What if I took this challenge personally to find Jesus and then I find him? Then the world throws my name in the conversation with David Koresh and Marshall Applewhite.
Perhaps people should use different terminology. Maybe I should be invited to believe in Jesus, or accept his divinity.
I have a suggestion for people that suggest to "find Jesus." Send me a link.
And lastly, what is a professed follower of Jesus doing searching the Internet for "random pictures of dead people real dead people gross stuff"? Hopefully she wants to raise them. (not as children, but actually bring them back)
And she obviously doesn't want to see fake dead people. She wants real dead people, and gross stuff. May I suggest the "faces of death" film series.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
The author is currently pulling a Jim Rome, and spending time in the basement.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
There are times in our lives when we hear of experiences that are so surreal or other-worldly, that we wonder if they really occurred. Did Moses really see a burning bush? Did Mohammad really see God in a cave? Did Christian Bale really freak out on-set like that?
In the same tradition as these events I've just listed, something similar happened to me waiting in the check-out line at Walmart.
As a side-note, for someone that consistently rips on Walmart, and professes disgust with everything relating to the store, I sure go there a lot. Does this say more about the store, or myself? I'm sure I don't know either.
Our older boy was turning 4 years old, and we needed to get him a new bike, as he'd out-grown the previous one. We shopped around at all of the local stores for the cheapest bike. After visiting Fred Meyer, Shopko, and K-mart, we found that the average price of a 16" kids bike was $413. Perhaps I'm exaggerating, but it was ridiculous.
So we hit the Walmart, and found a Huffy for 46 bucks. Now I realize I'm a poor parent for purchasing my son a Huffy, but I'm not going to spend $120 dollars on a bike that will most likely get backed over by our Suburban, or end up getting left out in every major snow-storm. If a store sold a bike that was just labeled "bike" and not painted, I would purchase it to save a few bucks.
As we waited in the cashiers line to pay for the bike, the gentleman standing in front of us decided to strike up a conversation with us. I don't understand this, as I try to look as unfriendly as possible. Perhaps alcohol was already flowing freely in his system.
As the guy looked like George Carlin in his 20's, with crack scabies and definitely un-showered, I quickly shielded my youngest from the spittle droppings every time he stumbled across the letter P.
He looked at my 1 year old son, and said "Looks like you got a new bike."
"Yeah, we usually start them out with riding before walking." I said.
Actually I didn't say that, but the un-feeling Republican half of my mind tried to make me.
Instead my wife and I feigned conversation with the guy until we realized he had to send his buddy back for Coors Light instead of Bud Light. (I tended bar for 5 years, and only the truest redneck could tell the difference)
We ended up switching to the next aisle as it appeared to be moving faster.
What transpired next was amazing.
A large overweight man resembling John Kruk with a goatee walked by George Carlin's aisle. Carlin hollered over to the guy, and Kruk looked back at him with aggression, wondering why some stranger would impede his journey to find the latest issue of "Tattoo" magazine.
Kruk -- What do you want?
Carlin -- Hey, were you in that movie--Over the Top?
Me -- (I braced for the fight to begin. I could only imagine the fists flying, tic tacs and certs scattering across the floor. It would be well worth the visit to Walmart.)
Kruk -- No I wasn't, but everybody asks me that. (beaming with pride)
Me -- (What?? Who else in the world would ask you that?)
Carlin -- Oh. I totally thought you were that guy in the movie.
Me -- (You mean Bull Hurley?)
Kruk -- Yeah, after the first 400 people asked me that, I decided to go get a t-shirt that said "Arm wrestling champion."
Do you realize the cumulative probability in this whole concerto playing out?
Odds that you stop a stranger in Walmart without hair-pulling breaking out: 153,000 to 1
Odds that 401 people have actually seen Over the Top, and remember the villain: 263,000 to 1
Odds that you ask a stranger if they are a very unattractive movie star: 8600 to 1
Odds that someone would take pride in resembling Bob "Bull" Hurley in 2009: 426,000 to 1
Odds that a Walmart patron would purchase an "Arm Wrestling champion" t-shirt: 2 to 1
The fact that all of these things took place in succession defies all belief.
Luckily I didn't see a "in case of rapture, vehicle is unmanned" bumper sticker on the way home, or I would have been down to visit Father Mulcahy for some last-minute penance.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Top 10 positive things we should focus on in this poor economy.
1--Transformers 2 is considering dialing down the special effects from the first movie, and actually integrating a plot. No word on if they will merge Transformers 2, and Armageddon 2 into Transformageddon as they are basically the same movie.
2--Serial killers nationwide cannot afford to shop at Home Depot anymore. They will be forced to shop at Harbor Freight, where sub-standard, more affordable tools can be purchased. Have you tried sawing a Femur in half with a Chicago Electric Reciprocating saw? The motor will die out before the second leg, forcing the killer to use a hack-saw. I think this could dissuade many from killing again.
3--All those Banana Hammocks you have been saving since 1979 could become chic as you can just say that a new swimsuit is "too expensive."
4--Every time your kids ask for money, you'll be able to respond that "We don't have any extra money because of the economy." I figure you can use this excuse for the next 14 years or so until they catch on.
5--There is bound to be a bunch of free concerts given as a "gift" to those that can't afford it. Bank on seeing Bon Jovi or the B-52's free in the next year.
6--You'll make many new friends begging for cash at the Walmart intersection. It's a direct correlation--Unemployment goes up, Walmart stop-light begging does too.
7--You can finally start using the skills you've learned on Man vs. Wild.
8--Hollywood won't be able to afford to pay Kevin Costner what he thinks he is worth, thus leading to no more bland 3 hour movies. (We'll leave this to Keanu Reeves)
9--There may finally be a use for all the rampant dog reproduction in Houston Texas as a new food source is discovered. (Seriously, have you ever been to Houston? I swear that on any random street, there are 7 wild dogs running around, and 3 of them are pregnant. Listen to Bob Barker you bastards.)
10--Washington will finally realize that the country is in economic peril, and put partisan politics and wasteful spending aside in order to look out for the American people.
They will put real stimulus into the economy and the vote will not fall along party lines.
No unnecessary spending for things like $50 million for the National Endowment for the Arts; $150 million for the Smithsonian; $400 million for global-warming research, and $650 million more for my Grandma to buy a digital TV box for her TV that hasn't seen electricity since 1994.
The future is looking brighter every day.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
This is a post I wrote for another site. Since its publishing, more superheroes have been added to the team. We like to call ourselves the Scavengers. (pronounced skah ven' gers. Don't forget the emphasis.)
In the past few years, the media has brought to the fore-front of discussion, the idea of an "evolutionary step" in the chain of humanity. This "step" has led to everyday people displaying physical and mental attributes like none could have dreamed. Shows like "Heroes" and movies like "X-Men" have people wondering…what if? (I on the other hand, wondered "what if" that blue makeup were to be smeared off Rebecca Romijn…I digress)
At great risk to myself and my family, I believe it's time to come out of the closet. (no…not that) I have decided to tell the world that like Hugh Jackman, I have a super-power. But unlike Hugh Jackman, women (and some men) do not go gaga when I'm not wearing a shirt.
Much like the spider biting Peter Parker, I also had an experience that triggered my "development."
I was cleaning up the dishes after dinner (as I always do) and putting away the leftovers in Tupperware containers. I reached into the cabinet holding the superfluity of containers, and randomly pulled out a few. I scooped out the contents of chicken, pasta, and potatoes. I looked back upon my work, and noticed a strange phenomenon…..that every container was filled EXACTLY to the top. Not an inch was wasted in any container…not a drop left in any pan.
Chalking it up to luck, I attempted the same feat the following night, with resounding success. I watched my skills continue to be honed and perfected with each passing day. No item of food has ever been wasted, no space in the fridge has been "tied up" with "far-too-large" containers…no food has ever needed to be thrown away. It is an amazing sight to behold.
As my father once told me, "With great power, comes great responsibility." So, "The Brimmer" (as I am known in the superhero community) and the "Legion of Justice" will fight to eradicate the world of evil. Below are my fellow fighters:
"Eye-sight"---Is able to tell if an item hanging on the wall is level with no assistance from mechanical tools or laser sights.
"The Judge"---Can tell within 5 miles when he is going to run out of gas. Fill-ups are few and far between for this hero.
"Squeeze Play"---Can literally get at least 10 more uses from a roll of toothpaste that has been thrown away by the average citizen.
"The Alternator"---Has never been beaten in creating a checkerboard pattern on a rubix cube. The speed and agility of his hands is amazing.
"Major Boredom"---Can literally talk about himself for 90 minutes straight. Any attempt to interject or add to the conversation only fuels his desire to continue ranting. Beware.
"The Weasel"---Pays for his own lunch roughly 14% of the time. Will always be conveniently missing when the time to pay arises.
"The Poker"---Can type roughly 70 words per minute while only using his 2 pointy fingers. Fingers of steel.
"Slip and Slide"---Will see actual evidence of his food in the toilet less than 1 hour after eating. You will be regaled with tales of beans, corn, and whole pieces of lettuce.
"Hammer-down"---Can punch a nail into a 2X4 with one hit most of the time. Watch for flying nails upon mis-hits
And our technology assistant is "The Programmer" who---while being dominantly right-handed---can maneuver a mouse with his left hand with surprising ease. (although it's been strongly suspected that this has come more out of practice and necessity than actual gift-his right hand is generally tied up.)
And while we are interested in ridding the world of evil, we're focused a little more on how to market our powers into a movie. With the onslaught of super-hero movies on the docket this summer, you'd have to think we'd do at least as good as a Wayans brothers movie. Gotta go, I just got a call from a buddy who ran out of gas and needs a ride.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The restroom is deserted as I head in to relieve myself. I pony up to the cleanest urinal and start my business.
A few seconds later, another person disturbs my blissful solitude. My peripheral vision loses sight of where he's headed. I hope he employs the "every other" rule with urinals.
Another couple seconds go by, and I don't see him. He's not to the left, right, nor do I hear the tell-tale slam of a stall door. Perhaps he's fixing his hair in the mirror, or brushing his teeth.
Something in my gut tells me that foul play is afoot, so I turn my head ever-so-slightly to catch a glimpse of the situation.
Instantly, everything goes into slow motion.
This guy is deep in thought as he approaches the urinals.
Sometimes you can tell when someone is bothered, or pondering deeply by the look in their eyes. I couldn't tell if this was the case, but thought he must be thinking of something important or troubling as his eyes were pasted to the ground, feet slowly shuffling in my direction.
I'm in full stream at this point, when the bladder is working at peak capacity to empty itself.
Another second or two goes by in my slow motion world, and I feel something is terribly wrong.
I turn my head again to survey the situation, and notice that "Mr. troubled" is bearing down on my location. His head is still down, and he's headed straight for me.
I turn back to my urinal, wondering why someone would use a stall right next to me, with so many others that were open?
And then the unthinkable occurs as I'm "rear-ended" by this gentleman.
In my mind, I see this playing out from multiple camera angles.
His head is down, as he moves his hands to his zipper in preparation for the relieving event. Before he can initiate the unzip, a collision of epic proportions occurs as he runs full tilt into my backside.
I see this in my mind again and again in those microseconds from above, below, 3rd person, 1st person, and hidden camera. It's like Van Dam in "Bloodsport" where every one of his kicks are shown 14 times in 1.2 seconds to reiterate the fact that a 5'6" man can kick a grown man in the face. (if he jumps off a chair)
My free (right) hand goes up to the wall to brace the impact. An involuntary male kegel shuts down all flow in mid-stream, as I desperately try to keep any loose clothing from receiving collateral damage.
And then time freezes.
I'm certain that there are seminal moments in every person's life.
For me and the stranger, this was one of them. Any rational human being knows the events that should transpire after this booty-bang.
The stranger should mutter a short apology about not watching his step, and then head out the door in hopes that we'll never see each other again.
This gentleman obviously did not feel the situation was as important as myself.
He shook off the near-rape without a word, and went to the stall directly next to me. He used his free hand to find a non-booger location on the wall, and went along, business as usual.
As any guy could tell you, starting from a interrupted mid-stream stoppage is very hard to recover from. Coupled with my sudden tunnel vision that was caused by my near-molestation, I zipped up, and did a quick-wash.
I headed towards the exit, and gave the dark stranger a quick look. He appeared so relaxed in his current state. Like he was high-fiving the wall. I wondered what would happen if I tried to throw him out his comfort zone, by giving him a dose of his own medicine with a bum-bump. And then I recalled the story of Larry Craig, and the "return" foot-tap. Perhaps my backside-bludgeoning would be portrayed as an approval of the first mid-section-meld.
Exit stage left....never use that bathroom again. I just may start peeing in Mt. Dew bottles at my desk.