What’s more damaging: a couple of asshats who doesn’t pay you, or someone attacking your reputation?

     Today I had two asshats who didn’t pay me.  One of them was just being a typical asshat, with the same old boring excuses for being a deadbeat.  The other came up with an elaborate story about how they installed incompatible software four days after I was in the system, but because it broke the other software and they didn’t bother to notify me that it was broken, and there was nothing in the logs about it being broken, that I owed them a two hour fix for free with no explanation of the situation before I went into fixing it other than, “It’s broke.”

     No, see, that stuff doesn’t bother me… I’m used to it, as pissed as it makes me.

     It was a third one that really stuck in my craw because it’s unfathomable:

“He ran across your site and you had some stuff on there that made it sound like you were racist… said he wouldn’t give you a penny for a day’s work.”

     WTF? Exqueeze me?

     No, seriously, that’s what kept me so worked up when I lived in Kentucky those three months… I couldn’t go five minutes without some asshat making up total horse pucky, and attempting to circumvent every single good thing I tried to do.  Everything became a damn conspiracy, and I was behind every bit of it!
     So I pressed about HTF he could come up with I’m sounding “like a racist” …

“Well damn I voted wrong” … like it is some sexual reference to Kenyan women

     O.  M.  F.  G.

     So somebody claims I’m a racist, goes the extra mile to say they wouldn’t give me “a penny for a day’s work” because they’re too ignorant to know a couple of premium, dark coffee beans, instead turning it into something that even an overly-sensitive, extremely jealous girlfriend — or ex-girlfriend, wife, stalker, nutjob next door — couldn’t twist it into if she tried?

     Wow.

     Let’s just say, just to even attempt to make any logic out of such a ridiculous assertion, that even if it had been a “sexual reference to Kenyan women,” how the Hell could that possibly make me a racist?

     Unless he’s totally against racial mixing… thus making him…

     A white trash cracker!

     Oh, and there’s a meal I detest: a venison round steak (medium well), canned corn and canned green beans.

     Apparently, that makes me a racist, too.

     [ he says, as he laughs his way to the kitchen for seconds of injera, gored-gored and quince ]

     Now, I don’t smoke weed, and this isn’t against our Military personnel…

     But this t-shirt right here I found funny as Hell…

     (Ooh, I’m a poet, and didn’t know it)

     The fact that the image is 420×420 is purely coincidental.

     So’s the fact that’s about 4:20 right now…

     Seriously, I don’t smoke weed.

     I’m allergic.

     Bad.

     Just buy the damn shirt, already.

Image Copyright © 2008 T-Shirt Hell

While the History Channel and CBS specials are showing on body language, I would like to offer a video which does not focus on political figures.  Rather it centers on actually reading body language in a much more informal setting.

(tip: Lilith Monkey)

So with this bit of information after watching the History Channel program you might say that during Richard Nixon’s “I Am Not a Crook” speech, his boom boom was unavailable.  Rather he was really trying to say please don’t rape me in my assholes, but if you must please use some lube.

     A friend of mine e-mailed me this link earlier…

     Think you’re pretty good at smackin’ a penguin?

     Prove it!

     As a man who’s had years of practice smacking the penguin, I found a personal best score of 294 after 10 attempts.  Apparently, you get better the more you play…

     (Ok, seriously, it’s perfectly safe for work … Check it out and post your score!)

     And while we’re at it … if you find something blogworthy that you think we should post about, give us a yell.

Tip: Mushy at .. well .. his blogs.

     No, not with me, you pervs!

     Watch the videos…

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPl8YsM2AJE)

     All blonde jokes aside, and, speaking of cell phones …

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyplIC9Nb3E)

     In case you don’t know French … “Think before you commit.  Nomad — The mobile without contracts.”

     And, last but not least … Two guys in the locker room …

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4O4f6FKYyc)

     Not sex, you say?  How often do you see someone get totally f#$*ed by a cell phone?!  Well, as opposed to getting f#$*ed by the carrier — that happens all the time…

     Nirodh will be very important on New Years Eve.

     No, not Nimrod — Nirodh.

     WTF is Nirodh, you’re asking?

     This educational video from Hyderabad, India expains it all…

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BTLj_3R0-2g)

     In retrospect, “Nimrod” might apply, too.  And no, I wasn’t being punny — jeez, get your mind outta the gutter, will ya?

     But … I think the pink one is gay, especially at 04:18…

Tip: Zacque, actually… but he didn’t wanna post it.  Ahh, but then he did.  Then… Who knows.

Many of you may not know, but the week after I got hitched, I bailed and went to Germany for 10 days. Fun, fun, fun don’cha know.

Anyway, I was in Hannover for a couple of days and managed (between the raindrops) to get out and do the tourist schlep. Grabbed a cab and took in Herrenhausen Gardens. Quite the impressive place actually. One could get lost up in there.

Figured I’d share with you what the German folk consider to be art, as they had an art exhibition in full gear within the garden gates whilst I was there. Enjoy.

Ok, so these are babydolls cocooned in Saran Wrap and hung in trees.
*scratches head* I still don’t quite get it, but ok. Kinda creepy in a Blair Witch kinda way.

And this is an exhibit called (surprisingly) “Split Pea Soup & Beer”

In case you’re wondering, the lil sign says no drinky the beer or do not touch or something to that effect.

This here is the Creme de la Creme. A Penis made out of a sticky bush. Nice. The exhibit was entitled “Sex.”

Imagine that. I certainly could have done with a lil nookie after looking at a seven foot tall prickly penis.

And the grande finale photo is not actually part of the art exhibit, it was just one of the few flowers left that hadn’t frozen it’s stamen off yet.

It was cold and miserable that day, but the oversized penis… dayum, it really did make the whole thing worth it.

     When Diva and Tony tied the knot in September, I couldn’t help but remark at the one photo which really stood out:

     “…from the looks of it, Tony is actually able to handle her.”

     But this post has absolutely nothing to do with that.

     Well…

     Other than a wedding.

     Earlier this week in India, a deeply superstitious farmhand was married, as well.  In fact, Mr. P. Selvakumar has finally found his perfect bitch.

     He says he was “cursed” after killing a couple of canines, and hopes this action will help lift it.

     Me, I’ll just sit back and laugh with a Top 10 list:

1. She’s on his crotch as soon as he walks in the door!
2. She can smell a rat a mile away!
3. He really keeps her on a short leash…
4. When she gets pissed, she’s absolutely rabid!
5. He’ll be in the dog house for the rest of his life.
6. Well, isn’t she just the pick of the litter?
7. Bet they’ll make some beautiful pups.
8. She lies like a dog!
9. Wonder if she likes it doggy-style?
10. Truly, this man knows how to handle his bitch.

     Man, you just can’t make stuff like this up…

Note: Selvakumar Photo Copyright © 2007 Associated Press, All Rights Reserved

     Every once in a while, I run across some crazy names — things which are innocent, but could certainly sound like a prank phone call if you didn’t know any better.  These are all true:

• I once knew a girl named Sunshine Beam.  I knew another named Sunny Rae Dawn.  Someone said their parents did drugs.
• I have a friend namd Anita Brown-Dixon.  Of course, I don’t think she’s ever had one, and certainly wouldn’t tell her son anything of the sort.
• I met a woman in Nashville named Anita Boner.  She really loves her husband… A lot.
• I have another friend, a Pirate Chick no less, named Robyn Cox.
• A friend of a friend called to ask me for help with something.  “Mark?  This is Dick Sells.”  I asked him who was buying.  
• I once knew a guy named John Ope.  His middle initial was L, and he usually went by Jack…  “Hello, Mr. Jackalope!”
• I met Ira Fuson a few months ago…
• …and imagine my surprise to meet the real Benjamin Dover.
• Everyone knows at least one John Turner.
• There’s a huge family of Fags just south of here.  Poor Richard… and some of them married Johnsons.
• There actually was a guy in a local high school named Mike Hunt.  He lives in Oak Ridge.

     When I consider the Wildcat’s last name is Melton, I can’t help but laugh at the headline of our future wedding.  Although, she’s been meltin’ me since the day we met…

Mark already did the big announcement about the deed. And I’ve been so unfortunately busy in the last month and a half that I’ve barely had time to think. Anyhoo. Here would be some of the photographic evidence that girls do go wild indeed. Just don’t go telling anybody. For the record, I was extremely well behaved and used the sexy little bouncer for all of my stunts.

Ahh, ya gotta love a bunch of Pirate Chicks along with those who come along for the Pirate Chick ride. Ya just do. They never let a special event go by without celebrating with cake and alcohol.

Becky and Natalie decided that come hell or high water there should be a bachelorette party the week before the wedding.

It was a beautiful evening, not too hot, not too cold. We all met up at Hooters for dinner and a drink. It was nice. Our little waitresses were super sweet, although I must say, I honestly thought I’d see more tits and ass. Not that they weren’t precious in their little Hooters gear, they were. But my 14 year old neice has more boobie and butt than these poor girls had.

Meet Ashley and Felicia:

The Hot boneless chicken tenders were tasty as all hell, my lips were nice and tingly for a while though. The girls decided to get me a cute little shirt to commemorate the joyous occassion.

In general, Hooters doesn’t see many bachelorette parties, but they do get hoards of bachelor parties… So, they improvised and got the Bachelor Party Shirt and turned into a Bachelorette Party shirt that all the little girls in tight Hooter’s shirts signed with loves n kisses.

We decided that it was time to continue on and move the festivities to Coyote Joe where Natalie and Holly had decorated and made it look like a scene from a slasher flick with the “Wild Girls- Caution” tape.

They adorned Diva with a princess tiara which boldly stated that I am indeed the Bride to Be… and if there was any question left due to the tiara being hiddeny by my hair which was erect like a hard penis, then the big Bride to Be button aptly placed between my breasts certainly gave it away.

So, we go in and invade the corner lot of CJ, nothing different there.

Olga made a real honest to God rum cake. It was a Jolly Roger, cuz she knows how we pirates roll.

We love the booty, especially rum laced booty.

Precious came and gave me congratulations lovins when she brought the multitude of drinks over.

It was time to have a little fun. We had games on tap, and honestly, watching them set up the Pin the Bow-Tie on the Bachelor was more fun than playing it.

Amanda gave the poster a hard on when she licked it from thigh to belly-button.

And Steph gave our bachelor a nice sized penis to look at…

Onward and upward we go. We had Do the Dare Cards. I mean the name alone implies that there will be some mischief going on. Let the photographic evidence be known!!

I need to state that, I, as the bride to be, didn’t do anything extreme. On the contrary, I was very well behaved. Four of the six cards I drew from the deck were completed by our sweetheart of a bouncer. God bless you, sugar!

Diva’s cards dared her to:

• get the bouncer to laugh for 100 points. Done!
• get a hunk to give her a neck massage. Done!
• get the phone number of a hot guy. Done!
• get a man to show you a hidden tattoo. Done! (It was on his upper thigh)
• get the bartender to give you a free drink. Done!
• find a guy, grab his ass, and tell him he has a nice ass. Done! (Twice!)

(Steph was witness. Two guys, two butts, double points!)

Here are some photos of the festivities! Enjoy!

Shawna found a baldguy & kissed him on top of his head:

Natalie and Amanda took the cake when they talked one of the big biker boys out of his drawers.