Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Fling Feck

Let’s talk about poop, shall we? It's been a while since I flexed my scatological mind. It's actually become a bit constipated lately. Since my last few blogs went over like cat shit lip gloss, it's time to haul out the ole tried and true - a blog dedicated to fecal matter! I'm just like a pitcher who is fooling no one with his breaking ball so he rears back (as it were) and fires the high heater.

I was in sixth grade and on a field trip to the channel island of Jersey (I was living in London at the time) that had a wildlife preserve. A few of us kids got ahead of the group and found a cage with monkeys. Where is this story headed do you suppose? Anyway, one of us soon discovered that by taunting the simians, it would cause them to hurl their own shit at us. This was a wonderful discovery for me. The first time I understood that monkeys threw shit! Oh boy. Well the teacher and the rest of the kids caught up to us and were standing right in front the monkey cage when I and my pals, standing somewhat off to the side at this time, started whooping and hollering. As the group turned to find out what the fuck was up with us, a shower of monkey crap descended upon them. What a hoot!

We had a cat when I was a kid that used to like to eat tinsel off the Christmas tree. This was great because before long, tinsel was gaily festooning her puckery little cat asshole. At first she would do that hilarious thing that cats and dogs do when faced with a situation like this or a similar one - scoot her ass along the floor (I think this is known as "johnny coasting"). She eventually gave up because I started putting tinsel in her food and it became too much for her to do anything about. I also discovered that rubber bands will do when it's off season for tinsel. I want to start a band called The Johnny Coasters.

I was in a band once called Boot Party and we did a song called "Dump In A Doorway." I came up with my all time favorite lyric just for this song: "I could see nuts and corn and a few dark hairs, it smelled real bad there were flies everywhere. It was too big to have come from a dog - I knew right them it was a human log!" Bob Dylan should be so talented.

Our pal Jay "Ass Master" Fortin, he of Scissor Fight fame, likes to tell this heart warming story from his youth. When he was little, he got a bowling ball set for Christmas. I guess he got a little excited because he crapped himself. Fortunately, his parents were out of the room so it gave him time to stuff the shit back from whence it came. What tool did the little Ass Master use to facilitate this? Why, a plastic bowling pin! Years later, when my band was playing with his band at a Christmas show, we presented him with a toy bowling pin smeared with chocolate. I can't remember but I'm sure he cried.

So there you have it. Feel free to add your own poop vignettes.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Some Crap

I tell you folks, our jerk-ass president is nothing but trouble. But I'm not going to go on about it in this blog, no sir! I have more important things in store for you, my hungry fans. It will be a veritable smorgas-blog of disparate, all over the goddamned map shit that I will lovingly serve up for you today. So insert those day-glow butt plugs 'cause away we go!

Hey guess what? I've lost almost all of the weight I gained over the holidays. You chicks better line up because pretty soon I won't be "morbidly obese" anymore, just "obese." How did I do it? Nervous stomach I think. That and I've been able to return to the gym after my knees settled down. At least for now. Next month I will be taking two fucking server classes (computer shit, not waitron school) during the day so I won't be able to work out at all. Oh well.

My job has been sucking moose perineum as of late. We have all sorts of new shit coming on line in March and that can only spell trouble for yours truly. See, I work second shift and there is zero communication in this company so I have very little idea as to what's going on. But goddamnit, those fuckers in Asia and the other parts of the world that are awake during my shift will see to it that my life is hell!

Enough about me (sorry). Let’s talk about NASCAR (even sorrier)! I picked Jimmie Johnson to win the Daytona 500 and he made sure I was right. I wish I had put money on it. Now, here’s the thing. They were going on about how to control aggressive driving during the races. Isn't that the damned point? I think they should encourage it. And I think they should make sure there are plenty of folding chairs around after the finish when the drivers all start shoving and jawing at each other. Wouldn't it be great to see Matt Kenseth brain Tony Stewart with a folding chair?

But I'm a drag racing man myself. And guess who won Top Fuel at the Winter Nationals? I will give you a hint: the winning driver had a vagina. And tits too. That’s right, no less of a babe than Melanie Troxel. Man, oh man. Hot chicks and nitro methane. My spank bank is filled to the brim.

I will reserve any Red Sox talk for a whole blog. But I will tell you this - I love spring training. I even worked for the Red Sox during spring training once.

That's enough crap for now.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006


I'm busy as shit tonight but, goddamnit, I'm going to take a couple minutes to crap out a short blog for you guys.

Dick Cheney. What more can you say about this asshole? First of all, he fills a fellow hunter with birdshot and them blames it on the guy for not flying a white flag and screaming "I'm over here, Dickie, don't shoot me!" Come on! For you liberals out there who don't know about these things, it's always incumbent upon the shooter to make 100% sure of his target and the background before shooting. Hey, Dick, why not blame the incident on Bill Clinton while you're at it? Maybe if ole "Deferment Dick" had served in Vietnam like he wanted everyone else to, he would know how to handle a weapon. Fuck him.

That's all.

Friday, February 03, 2006

The Cod God Lives

As some of you may have heard, The Cod God came through spine replacement/penile implant surgery just fine. The poor fucker was under the knife for over 6 hours! In what would be a kind of bad news/good news scenario if he was gay, he won't ever be able to bend over again but he will be able sustain an erection almost indefinitely.

I talked to him tonight and he described his predicament as "good times." He did sound a bit zonked out on pain killers, but that’s standard operating procedure for the Codder no matter where he is. I will probably venture out to visit him the next couple of days. Let me know if you guys have any messages for him.