Its 10am, and I have come to one very profound and uplifting notion about life, it sucks when you first wake up. I’m sure whatever we do the rest of the day is unimportant, I’ll bet you that (insert preferred God figure here) is up there for one reason only, to laugh hysterically at how stupid we are in the morning. You can sin all afternoon if you like because by then there is nothing worth watching and the God or Gods have already tee’d off for a day of cloud golf. That must be it, that’s why we are here, exist, to be entertaining as we struggle to consciousness after a sound sleep. Imagine if you we woke and had to make life and death decisions, we’d be screwed.
“Dale wake up! The house is under attack by Huns and the cook can’t decide what to make for breakfast!”
I would bat my eyes and with a cockeyed stare answer, “Do I have pillow face? I think I swallowed my teddy.”
The Huns would attack killing us all and breakfast would never get made.
Yes its true, I suffer from Morningstupiditous.
Prime examples of this would be my shower, I entered the shower and then, once in the shower noticed there was no more soap. I hate that so much, if you get out you’ll drip all over the house getting the soap. You could towel off, but then if you do that you will have a damp towel after you actually shower. I don’t like that, my towel has to be dry, puffy and smell like fresh air, even though I don’t think that fresh air is a scent, but somehow the detergent company has seen fit to make a soapy smell - fresh air smell. I will accept other scents as well, so long as its one of those ‘Just washed’ smells such as Bounce fabric softener smell. I guess the soap manufacturers have no choice but to name their products things like ‘Spring Fresh’ and ‘Fresh air” as naming them more realistic names such as “City Haze” or “wet Dog” may not help sales.
“Wow Stanley! You smell JUST like wet dog!”
“Yes thanks, its my new fabric softener. Tide with Real wet Dog.”
Where was I? Oh yes the bar of soap thingy. So there you are, all wet and soapless, do you leave the shower to hunt down the soap that you bought and forgot where you put it? No, I did the back up plan, I used shampoo as soap. Now my whole body smells like fruit.
That’s another thing, shampoo smells seem to be taking on many food scents. Why is this? Seriously, who wants to make their hair smell like fruit? No wonder there are so many hikers getting killed by animals, I can just imagine what the bears are saying:
“Hey Sid, here comes a human.”
“Ya, I smell fruit, but I don’t see any.”
“Maybe that thing on top of its shoulders is a melon?”
“Let’s go eat him and find out.”
And even with this, they create scents like Kiwi, Strawberry and sunflowers and stuff like that, do they NOT think that birds will swoop down and start picking at our skulls once outside? Or is that the plan? Are shampoo companies run by terrorists who have a plan for animals to gnaw at our heads.
“That’s right you stupid infidels, wash your hair mwahahaha!”
Coffee is another morning issue, I hate making coffee in the morning, no wonder coffee shops do so well, because I’m not alone in this, no one can manage a coffee machine in the morning! There you are, brain dead and barely breathing and you have to fill a container with water then scoop ground coffee into a cup 3inches in diameter. Not only that but you have to calculate the correct amount of coffee per water volume. MATH in the morning? Oh Pleaaaassseeee! May as well have me defuse a nuclear weapon while I’m at it. And tell me, WHO can actually make coffee in the morning WITHOUT spilling ground coffee all over the counter? Huh who? It’s impossible! There is a special gravitational pull as the planet rotates through the morning making coffee grinds and countertops attract like magnets. But the absolute worst is when I brew a pot of coffee, then anxiously enter the kitchen for my first cup only to discover that I forgot to put the coffee in. Yum, a fresh pot of hot water! What am I? British? I DON’T drink tea in the morning! What the hell was I doing?
Okay I had better get going, I need to get dressed again, I accidentally put on the drapes this morning.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
bitching and my palm read
I need to do one of those Weiser whisky commercials, you know where there are a few guys sitting around the table, and each takes a turn telling why he is wiser…
When it gets to my turn LOOK OUT.
Lets try shall we, okay, the scene is at a lodge and three men are at a table with a bottle of Weiser’s brand whisky. The first one says
“I learnt that I need to spend more time with the kids.”
Then the second guy says, “I’ve learnt what good whisky means” but he fails to mention that he’d drink lighter fluid given the chance.
Then I’d take a shot of the whisky and say
“Omg you guys are pussy fucks! I’ve learnt that I hate driving behind pick-up trucks because I can’t see a damn thing! I’ve learnt that people can really be full of shit when they want to be! I’ve learnt that the guy working at the corner store can’t speak English worth a fuck. I’ve learnt that drinking with pussies like you is frustrating as hell, and I’ve learnt that without this whisky I’d go fucking insane!”
Then the music would play and the logo comes up…
Weiser’s, Canadian bitching whisky.
Man I’m a tad testy today huh? Nothing to do with the internet ironically either. Go figure that one. I did go get a coffee and stop at the bank, also had blogrocks to ship out, and I’m praying that the long weekend doesn’t delay shipping too much. What the hell is the long weekend for anyway? I’m kinda lost with holidays being off and all. Is it a holiday dedicated to me at all? Dale day? Daleism day? Rock day?
I just went to make dinner and discovered the oven is dead, well still dead as it always was being a non-life form, but I need a 30amp fuse. Damn it to hell, like I keep 30amp fuses in my ass! Now I have to go to a store or starve to death! I’m comfortable, I’m starving to death.
I may Jerry rig something though, steal fuses from some other panel, like the neighbors panel, or maybe tie in the car battery to the stove, the neighbors car battery. I am a pro at McGyvering stuff… it never works, but I look good doing it. Oh, maybe the power source for this computer! Yah… let me try that… (Pffftzzzz)
Oh here, I had my palm read….
No joking! Here…
Shit that’s a big hand…. and they cut off the image! BASTARDS
When it gets to my turn LOOK OUT.
Lets try shall we, okay, the scene is at a lodge and three men are at a table with a bottle of Weiser’s brand whisky. The first one says
“I learnt that I need to spend more time with the kids.”
Then the second guy says, “I’ve learnt what good whisky means” but he fails to mention that he’d drink lighter fluid given the chance.
Then I’d take a shot of the whisky and say
“Omg you guys are pussy fucks! I’ve learnt that I hate driving behind pick-up trucks because I can’t see a damn thing! I’ve learnt that people can really be full of shit when they want to be! I’ve learnt that the guy working at the corner store can’t speak English worth a fuck. I’ve learnt that drinking with pussies like you is frustrating as hell, and I’ve learnt that without this whisky I’d go fucking insane!”
Then the music would play and the logo comes up…
Weiser’s, Canadian bitching whisky.
Man I’m a tad testy today huh? Nothing to do with the internet ironically either. Go figure that one. I did go get a coffee and stop at the bank, also had blogrocks to ship out, and I’m praying that the long weekend doesn’t delay shipping too much. What the hell is the long weekend for anyway? I’m kinda lost with holidays being off and all. Is it a holiday dedicated to me at all? Dale day? Daleism day? Rock day?
I just went to make dinner and discovered the oven is dead, well still dead as it always was being a non-life form, but I need a 30amp fuse. Damn it to hell, like I keep 30amp fuses in my ass! Now I have to go to a store or starve to death! I’m comfortable, I’m starving to death.
I may Jerry rig something though, steal fuses from some other panel, like the neighbors panel, or maybe tie in the car battery to the stove, the neighbors car battery. I am a pro at McGyvering stuff… it never works, but I look good doing it. Oh, maybe the power source for this computer! Yah… let me try that… (Pffftzzzz)
Oh here, I had my palm read….
No joking! Here…
Shit that’s a big hand…. and they cut off the image! BASTARDS
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Neanderthal Morning
Omg I slept in! Mind you I went to bed early this morning. I was planning on waking up, showering and injecting the coffee into my bloodstream at a decent hour this morning, then be off to do the stuff I need to do. But I just woke up, and although I am presently injecting caffeine into my bloodstream, I have not showered or scratched my ass or accomplished anything else at this point.
I really feel a tad Neanderthal-ish to be honest. Sitting here on the grass outside my door rubbing rocks together in the hopes of starting a fire so I’ll have hot water for my shower, and um… typing.
“Grunt.”
Welcome to Mr. Neanderthals Neighborhood! (insert theme song here)
“Ugg kids! Welcome to my neighborhood grunt. Let me put on my slippers, look I can toss one to my other hand and catch it and be impressed that I caught a slipper that I tossed from 2 inches away. I don’t like slippers, lets eat them.”
(Ding ding ding)
“Oh here comes Mr. Trolley, that annoying train which scares me because I am a Neanderthal and don’t understand it.” (Smash Crash) “I trashed Mr. Trolley kids, grunt, now let’s beat our chests and roar like we just clubbed a woman.”
(ding dong)
“Oh that must be Mr. Dino the postman kids! Let’s answer the door.”
(Roar snap snap Roar!)
“Oh my, the postman tried to eat me in a non sexual way. Now we will have to spear the bastard lizard and take our mail from him. Then we can roast his hide on an open flame and feast on his carcass… come on kids, grab your spears… not Britney.”
Yup that’s how I feel today, a bit rough around the edges. Well I should get moving and at least scratch my ass. Hold on… awww there, I did something. Nothing like a good ass scratching in the morning. Ohhhh ahhhhhhhhhh, I’m not telling what I just scratched there, but it was good.
I really feel a tad Neanderthal-ish to be honest. Sitting here on the grass outside my door rubbing rocks together in the hopes of starting a fire so I’ll have hot water for my shower, and um… typing.
“Grunt.”
Welcome to Mr. Neanderthals Neighborhood! (insert theme song here)
“Ugg kids! Welcome to my neighborhood grunt. Let me put on my slippers, look I can toss one to my other hand and catch it and be impressed that I caught a slipper that I tossed from 2 inches away. I don’t like slippers, lets eat them.”
(Ding ding ding)
“Oh here comes Mr. Trolley, that annoying train which scares me because I am a Neanderthal and don’t understand it.” (Smash Crash) “I trashed Mr. Trolley kids, grunt, now let’s beat our chests and roar like we just clubbed a woman.”
(ding dong)
“Oh that must be Mr. Dino the postman kids! Let’s answer the door.”
(Roar snap snap Roar!)
“Oh my, the postman tried to eat me in a non sexual way. Now we will have to spear the bastard lizard and take our mail from him. Then we can roast his hide on an open flame and feast on his carcass… come on kids, grab your spears… not Britney.”
Yup that’s how I feel today, a bit rough around the edges. Well I should get moving and at least scratch my ass. Hold on… awww there, I did something. Nothing like a good ass scratching in the morning. Ohhhh ahhhhhhhhhh, I’m not telling what I just scratched there, but it was good.
Friday, May 11, 2007
I need a bike
I thought Id get a bike today. I see everyone riding around in the sun and I’m jealous, besides I need the exercise. The problem is their so damn expensive nowadays for a good one. I had one before, but a car hit me and mangled it…
On a dark moonlit summers night a silver Austin-martin sped across the country roads of Tabootown County. I was ridding with the famous spy, James Blond, who had inexplicitly hit me while I was biking off the county road, even if it looked like I had aimed at a fancy car in hopes of an insurance settlement, he still felt obligated to offer me a ride home.
“Is this a spy car?” I asked excitedly.
“Yes it is.”
“What’s this cigarette lighter do?” I wondered and pressed it.
“Oh good Lord!” James bellowed, “Don’t do that!”
“Why not?” I looked around to see what may have activated. “What’s it do?”
“Nothing” James shook his head, “but it’s a bloody waste of the lighters heating coil ya know! This is an Austin-martin not a Toyota!”
We drove quietly for a few more miles, and then my eye caught a glimpse of a small red button on the consol. I tried to resist, I really did. I thought ‘No don’t touch that’ to myself over and over, resisting the urge with all my might, then pressed it.
“Oh Bloody Hell!” James screamed out at my accidental Button pushing.
“It wasn’t me!” I defended, “why what’s that do?”
“It calls my mother-in-law! Now sit still oaf!”
“I’m sorry” I apologized then pressed the blue button and launched an enormous missile from the headlamp which thundered across the sky and blew a massive oak into tinsy tinsy pieces.
“I know what THAT does” I joked. James did not appear amused.
Suddenly out from nowhere, well actually from behind us, a black sedan appeared and sped up along side of us. It’s rear window lowered and a stubby Chinese guy hurled his hat out the window at me. It smashed by window and embedded itself right into the metal door frame.
“Look out!” James said, “Get down!”
“No worries James ol Pal” I said, “I’ll take care of him” I offered, then hurled my toque out the window at the car. It fell on the Chinese mans face and as he struggled with its enormous pompom I threw my wool mitts at the driver, one of which wedged in his naval cavity causing him to loose control, and their car suddenly blew up.
James was impressed, “Good job” he offered.
“Can I press a button now?” I asked.
“Sure, go ahead”.
I looked around and took aim at a pretty green button, and quickly pressed it before James changed his mind.
Right well now I understand that horrified look on his face when I pressed it, but James didn’t have a chance to say anything as he was accidentally propelled from the cars sunroof, ironically just as we drove under a massive tree with a thick branch hanging over the road.
Anyway, Austin-Martin 4 sale. Silver, 2 door. Exc condition, passenger hat included, drivers seat extremely adjustable. Will trade 4 good bike.
On a dark moonlit summers night a silver Austin-martin sped across the country roads of Tabootown County. I was ridding with the famous spy, James Blond, who had inexplicitly hit me while I was biking off the county road, even if it looked like I had aimed at a fancy car in hopes of an insurance settlement, he still felt obligated to offer me a ride home.
“Is this a spy car?” I asked excitedly.
“Yes it is.”
“What’s this cigarette lighter do?” I wondered and pressed it.
“Oh good Lord!” James bellowed, “Don’t do that!”
“Why not?” I looked around to see what may have activated. “What’s it do?”
“Nothing” James shook his head, “but it’s a bloody waste of the lighters heating coil ya know! This is an Austin-martin not a Toyota!”
We drove quietly for a few more miles, and then my eye caught a glimpse of a small red button on the consol. I tried to resist, I really did. I thought ‘No don’t touch that’ to myself over and over, resisting the urge with all my might, then pressed it.
“Oh Bloody Hell!” James screamed out at my accidental Button pushing.
“It wasn’t me!” I defended, “why what’s that do?”
“It calls my mother-in-law! Now sit still oaf!”
“I’m sorry” I apologized then pressed the blue button and launched an enormous missile from the headlamp which thundered across the sky and blew a massive oak into tinsy tinsy pieces.
“I know what THAT does” I joked. James did not appear amused.
Suddenly out from nowhere, well actually from behind us, a black sedan appeared and sped up along side of us. It’s rear window lowered and a stubby Chinese guy hurled his hat out the window at me. It smashed by window and embedded itself right into the metal door frame.
“Look out!” James said, “Get down!”
“No worries James ol Pal” I said, “I’ll take care of him” I offered, then hurled my toque out the window at the car. It fell on the Chinese mans face and as he struggled with its enormous pompom I threw my wool mitts at the driver, one of which wedged in his naval cavity causing him to loose control, and their car suddenly blew up.
James was impressed, “Good job” he offered.
“Can I press a button now?” I asked.
“Sure, go ahead”.
I looked around and took aim at a pretty green button, and quickly pressed it before James changed his mind.
Right well now I understand that horrified look on his face when I pressed it, but James didn’t have a chance to say anything as he was accidentally propelled from the cars sunroof, ironically just as we drove under a massive tree with a thick branch hanging over the road.
Anyway, Austin-Martin 4 sale. Silver, 2 door. Exc condition, passenger hat included, drivers seat extremely adjustable. Will trade 4 good bike.
The Mailman from Hell
My first anonymous blog entry is nothing more than my morning thus far. I know this would normally be a boring subject; however I am inflicted with the unbearable disease called “EventmousStrangous’ which riddles my life with oddness and strange inexplicable events.
I am a pretty much normal person otherwise, except for my one super hero ability of seeing through clear plastic. It’s a burden being different, but I was gifted with the ability and will try to use it for good and not evil, often.
I woke today, again, and readied for my daily jaunt to Tim Horton’s Coffee shop. I love coffee, it’s a daily trip and routine I hope to never break. I would marry coffee if I could, sure sex may be messy and sure if I jumped it the paper cup would bust and make a horrible stain in the bed, but still, I would marry coffee if I could.
As I stepped out of my house this morning I came across the mailman.
“Hi Mailman who’s name I don’t know” I smiled, and he handed me some envelopes.
“Hello person who lives here” he answered and started off on his way to continue his letter carrier adventures.
I looked at the mail casually, noticing that one letter was not mine.
“Hold up!” I shouted and ran towards the mailman, “This letter isn’t mine!” (Insert suspenseful Doo doo dooo music here)
“It has your address on it” he pointed out abruptly, “So it’s your mail.”
“Do I LOOK like a Betty?” I pointed to the addressee name.
He did not answer, but simply stared at me as if to think ‘Ya you do look like a Betty you pansy bastard’.
“What did you just think?” I screamed as I took my handy dandy 2x4 out from my pocket and commenced beating it over the mailman’s head.
“Carry This!” I screamed pounding the mailman within inches of not living, “Return THIS to sender you Bastard!”
The police drove by slowly, I smiled at the police cruiser as I casually continued to beat the mailman who was now lying in a blood puddle on the street.
“Hep” the mailman muttered, so I wacked him again… casually.
The police decided to stop and intervene, and after questioning the mangled postman they walked towards me with a horrid stare, like I had done something wrong?
I explained the situation and showed them the letter for Betty… and so the policeman shot the mailman dead.
“Well you have a good day then” I said to the officers.
“You too Sir” the officer replied, “And could you clean up this mess?” the officer asked pointing to the dead mailman.
“Soon as I get my coffee!” I said and drove off.
So the coffee was good, and by the time I got home the street sweeper came by, so I avoided a clean up! Yeahhh me!
Alright that’s that. Have a good day.
I am a pretty much normal person otherwise, except for my one super hero ability of seeing through clear plastic. It’s a burden being different, but I was gifted with the ability and will try to use it for good and not evil, often.
I woke today, again, and readied for my daily jaunt to Tim Horton’s Coffee shop. I love coffee, it’s a daily trip and routine I hope to never break. I would marry coffee if I could, sure sex may be messy and sure if I jumped it the paper cup would bust and make a horrible stain in the bed, but still, I would marry coffee if I could.
As I stepped out of my house this morning I came across the mailman.
“Hi Mailman who’s name I don’t know” I smiled, and he handed me some envelopes.
“Hello person who lives here” he answered and started off on his way to continue his letter carrier adventures.
I looked at the mail casually, noticing that one letter was not mine.
“Hold up!” I shouted and ran towards the mailman, “This letter isn’t mine!” (Insert suspenseful Doo doo dooo music here)
“It has your address on it” he pointed out abruptly, “So it’s your mail.”
“Do I LOOK like a Betty?” I pointed to the addressee name.
He did not answer, but simply stared at me as if to think ‘Ya you do look like a Betty you pansy bastard’.
“What did you just think?” I screamed as I took my handy dandy 2x4 out from my pocket and commenced beating it over the mailman’s head.
“Carry This!” I screamed pounding the mailman within inches of not living, “Return THIS to sender you Bastard!”
The police drove by slowly, I smiled at the police cruiser as I casually continued to beat the mailman who was now lying in a blood puddle on the street.
“Hep” the mailman muttered, so I wacked him again… casually.
The police decided to stop and intervene, and after questioning the mangled postman they walked towards me with a horrid stare, like I had done something wrong?
I explained the situation and showed them the letter for Betty… and so the policeman shot the mailman dead.
“Well you have a good day then” I said to the officers.
“You too Sir” the officer replied, “And could you clean up this mess?” the officer asked pointing to the dead mailman.
“Soon as I get my coffee!” I said and drove off.
So the coffee was good, and by the time I got home the street sweeper came by, so I avoided a clean up! Yeahhh me!
Alright that’s that. Have a good day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
