Monthly Archives: August 2012

Today I add two new badges to my resume, degerate gambler and best teammate ever — you’re welcome Team 8

I think I have a lot of ‘badges’ in this life.

Drunken idiot?”  Check.

“Loud-mouth political hack?” Oh yeah.

“Idiot with a blog that thinks his opinion matters?” Both of my hands are up.

“Person that obsesses over boobs too much?”  I’m looking at boobs right now which explans the awkwsentance that you read … I mean yes, that’s me too.

But today we can add two new ones.

Degenerate gambler and best team mate ever.

See, I was on a bowling team.   Which is retarded and uncool, and to hell with you honey “The Big Lebowski is a GREAT movie and therefore bowling is actually pretty cool, unless it is really dorky and yeah it’s really dorky.

Chew on that sentence MS Word Grammar Checker!  It’s such a train wreck, I’m proud of it actually.

Not quite the purple jesus

Not quite the purple jesus

Anyway our office team sucked.   We sucked so bad we didn’t even have a name; our name was literally, “Team 8.”  We came in eighth out of eight teams so maybe the name was fitting but really we didn’t give enough of a crap about bowling to even give ourselves a proper name.   I suggested, “Lebowski’s little league” but retracted the idea when it was suggested we only drink white Russians while ‘rolling’.

No can do teammates.  Beer or death.

Team eight it remained.  Our team’s level of ‘notgiveashitery’ was epic, and I’m oddly proud of that.  Of the ten or so games we were scheduled to play, I think we made four.  Because well its summer, I have to go on a business trip, my ass hurts, something good is on TV and it’s on a fucking Tuesday night for Christ sake.

But even though we suffered from toxic-levels of ‘notgiveashitery’ we faithfully paid our dues, because even though we couldn’t be bothered to actually, you know, SHOW UP we all felt it was important to give the league money.  I’m proud of us for that.   As a team we gave two-shits by the end of it about showing up but god we’re paying our dues!

So yesterday the league captain or league general or league ‘his-royal-majesty’, whatever the hell he’s called, phoned me.   The league was over, they wished we had participated more, maybe we could come back this fall when things have slowed down and most of ‘Team Eight’ isn’t scattered across the planet and try again.  And, by the way, I have an envelope of money for all of you, it’s not much, about $130 and when can you pick it up.

Through a set of circumstances that sum up with I had tomorrow off and bowling league king/high-priest/his honor never ever left the bowling alley we agreed that I would meet him at the alley at 2 p.m.

Fast forward to 2 p.m. today and a few apologies, my guys travel a lot for work, I travel a lot for work, yeah maybe next time, the fact that it was a Tuesday was troublesome we’ll try again, just give me the envelope asshole, thanks for your time, better luck next time, you’re team couldn’t even pick a name for fuck’s sake and I had an envelope with $130 and like 70 cents in it.

Now again I was not working today, except for a quick trip into the office to handle a few items earlier, I was done for the day.   Going home and drinking beer while watching day-time TV has about as much appeal to me as bowling does so … but wait, this bowling alley, like many overseas on military bases, it has a slot-machine room.

I had exactly three U.S. dollars in my pocket (I know because I was buying a beer when this idea came to me) and an unopened envelope with $130 that belonged to my team mates.

“Yeah, I’m going to gamble my team mate’s winning away,” I said to myself taking my first swig of pilsner.   “And when I lose it all, I’ll quote Hunter S. Thompson quotes to myself as I drive home,” cause nothing says fun like quoting HST to yourself when you drive home after losing $130 on  slots, the sucker bet of any bet if there ever was one.

When I hit the winning series a live band started playing and like four hot topless chicks came out with balloons and okay nothing happened I just thought good was good enough. Actually I just thought, “this will be funny on my blog.” Cause I’m a dork like that.

I cashed out at $330 figuring an increase in profits of ‘math is hard’ was good enough.  That’s right Team eight, I took our ‘winnings’, well our ‘earnings’ well our “money the league gave us because we sucked” and made that $32.50 each of you had coming into $82.50, cause I’m a good dude.

If we ‘roll again’ we’re “Lebowski’s Little League” and I get a fucking exception to policy on the White Russian Rule.

I’ll totally wear the white bathrobe though.

An open letter to the GOP … I could love you, I could

Holy fuck, seriously holy fuck, that’s the only way to describe the abortion that is turning out to be the Republican National Convention.

Seriously I just watched the news and Bret Baier from Fox News just threw up on camera and quit after saying “holy fuck, what are we doing here?”

Polls show that ‘zero’ percent (with an error rate of plus OR minus three percent) of African Americans support Mittens but the GOP seems to be obvious to this fact as they’re trying harder and harder to alienate every woman in America.

Seriously, according to the GOP, “you bitches need to get back in the kitchen.” I’d like cookies but I’d like you to vote more.

On the heels of Todd Ryan’s retarded statements about rape we have the joy of Tom Smith who compares the shame the father of a daughter that’s been raped to the shame of a father of a woman that has a baby out of wedlock.

Because it’s 1943 and I can’t even finish this fucking sentence.

Someone, and to the convention’s credit the person was thrown out, tossed peanuts at a CNN reporter trying to do a stand-up report while yelling, “this is how we feed the animals.”

Listen asshole, I’m going to pretend for a moment that you’re not a giant douche bag … that’s NOT how we feed any animal, and she’s just doing her job. You like jobs right? Fuck you you’re not listening anyway.

But, but, but Governor Chris Christie? He waited until the end to mention the robot, I mean Presidential hopeful Mitt Romney ….

Life-long GOP member Orrin Hatch reveals that the GOP is full of bigots by saying, “yeah I think the gays are gross but let’s stop being assholes to them and let them get married.” Welcome aboard Orrin, we need to talk though.

George Bush Junior hasn’t been mentioned because, well George Bush Junior. Actually I can’t fault them there, smart move.

Meanwhile the media can’t ask Mitt about, well anything. This is about the economy for fuck’s sake, stop asking any other questions. No other questions damn you. Nothing else! Obama’s birth certificate is on the table but the Bain Capital earnings are off the table.

The “big tent” is now a shade umbrella that’s in danger of blowing away in the waves of hurricane Isaac.

I’m about to get gross, Mom, Dad and anyone else with a low threshold for gross should stop reading right now, come back in a paragraph or two.

You’ve been warned.

Look Republicans, this is like watching porn. It is. It’s like watching that scene where the girl takes both the guy’s cocks in her mouth at the same time and you and I go, OMG they’re TOUCHING PENISES!

Or Peni or Penis’s or whatever the fuck you say there.

I don’t know.

Maybe that’s the wrong metaphor. But I like boobs so porn metaphors were inevitable.

Deal with it.

It’s like watching a train wreck none the less.

Look, can I speak honestly? As a democrat there are things the GOP believes that, I at least, also believe.

I’m for a strong national defense, Rome without her legions became feudal Europe so yeah, fund defense.

I’m all for personal responsibility but again like Rome, ‘the free grain dole,’ was likely a good idea. Safety nets aren’t bad, without them bad things boil.

If you’re the party of small government, something I, and many Democrats, could really get behind, stop legislating morality.

That’s ‘big’ government … telling my wife, my daughter, my sister and my female friends what they can and cannot do with their bodies is in fact “BIG GOVERNMENT”.

The market’s not God, it needs to be regulated. A market unbound is a sweaty fat man gambling the family savings away with a shady bookie in dark alley.

It needs left and right limits.

I care not one bit if man marries his donkey, really I don’t give a fuck. I also don’t care if two dudes marry or two chicks marry, it’s NOT FUCKING IMPORTANT. What’s important is that two people, no matter the sex, that are committed to a loving and life-long relationship are afforded the same ass-pain you and I are when they realize they hate one another.

There has to be a republican out there, reading this or not, that is a news junkie like me. They also must have realized recently that FOX News is making baby steps toward the center. There is a reason for that, just like they dumped fucktard Glenn Beck.

Mitt and the GOP are going to lose this election and I’m sorry but you didn’t really put up a fight. You punched each other more than you punched the Democrats. We never Democrats never even got our gloves on, we were too shocked watching you all prepare for the fight by killing each other.

Tea Partiers reading this, all none of you, my thoughts follow.

You can teach your kids, it’s wrong to be married to a same sex partners but do you really need to make that a law? The sin’s on the ones that do it, isn’t it?

You can teach your kids, it’s wrong to abort a fetus, but the sin is again on the woman that did it, isn’t it?

Yeah, yeah, it’s a baby an unborn life. But there are thousands of lives that are lost every day, where are you there?

Teach your kids that evolution is wrong but let school teach science. Teach your kids that global warming is wrong but let the schools teach … if your argument is stronger is SHOULD win out in the kids mind, right?

I’ve written, rewritten, refucked, reunfucked this last bit for a week if not the last every year.

And what the fuck am I trying to say is, I don’t know.

Boiled down, you are the least racist, most open party that ever existed in the history of the world. You could, unbridled, change the world, but you, but you but you … if only you could escape the extremist clamps that seem to shackle you.

If you work to exclude you will always lose, it takes a big tent after all.

Someone who used to comment here (hint, hint) said recently on my facebook feed that the GOP needs a strong fiscal leader (I agree) that is a named, hell branded, as a Republican that slides to the left socially.

We have one. He’s not branded Republican but he is exactly what you ask for ….

President Obama, actually.

G-Gank gives me an intervention … the jerk.

Democrats …. Always right except for when they’re wrong and then still mostly right. Yeah G-gank doesn’t do the photo captions. (Photo credit, Wikipedia)

Anyone who is a Jew is the Devil.  Anyone who is a Methodist is freaking jack-off.   Anyone who is Catholic has been brain washed.  Yup there are people that believe this, and say this…. Just like there are people who call you a fucking asshole for the political party you freely choose to endorse. Let’s just suppose that everyone in the United States became a Democrat….  Would the world be a better place?  I don’t think it would, because differences are what challenge people to achieve greater things.

Flag of the United States on American astronau...

Neil Armstrong America’s greatest cyclist. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If we were all Communists, then the space race would have never happened and Neil Armstrong would have been just another guy who raced in the tour de France.

If we were all from Jamaica, sure we would all have killer weed, but shit…. nothing would ever get done because we would all be baked.  (Actually, I firmly believe that the DEA should surrender all confiscated weed to Congress… that would be awesome to see them totally stoned…. it would totally promote harmony.)

You do not have to agree with a person’s political or religious belief but dam it you should not be critical to the point of making personal attacks on that person.  You should commend that person for their beliefs and think openly about the views of others.  It is the closed-minded person who is the real piece of shit for they never expand their thinking and will never achieve greatness.

I lived with a guy who was an atheist and for the life of me I don’t know how he could live his life that way, but I never ridiculed him for his way of thinking.  I have friends who are drum-pounding Democrats but do not think any less of them because of their beliefs.  In fact I try to understand what drives them.  Hell, I have voted for republicans and democrats….  For me it’s not what party they belong to it’s what the individual stands for.

Of course I wish everyone in the world was like me but that would be a really screwed up world.  More importantly, if everyone was like me, I would never be able to get a Tee time at the Golf Course

Now to the point of this whole piece…

When you … I feel … Because …  And I want …

Todd Oliver (the guy running hadafewbeers) please sit down – this is your

Photo caption is “i got nothing” other than I totally stole this from the History Channel. Photo credit, the History Channel.


I know you are my friend but:

When you  – say I am an idiot for supporting a republican, or being a Catholic,

I Feel – Angry and Sad.

Because – your words are hurtful I think it jeopardizes our friendship.

And I want – you to be more considerate for my feelings and have a little respect for my freedom of choice.

Is there anyone else in the room that wants to say something to Todd?

Ok, I see some of you are a bit hesitant to speak up and that’s OK.  Just the fact that you are here today re-enforces the fact that you love Todd.  Not the kind of head-banging love that would bestow upon a big-titted stripper but rather the kind of love one gives to a dear friend.

So the next time you are quick to judge any of us who pay homage to God, Buddha, Jesus, or that fucking 6-hose water bong just remember the world is a better place because we are different and not everyone has to think like you…  so stop forcing people to suck on that Democratic Donkey Dick, after all if we all sucked it there would be nothing left for you.

I’ve got a problem with my shorts. I’m sorry but I do.

look they're my fav shorts

If only I had the ability to create a poll …

I’ve got a problem with my shorts.

Screw you they’re my favorite shorts and damn it they deserve an update.

This is important for Christ’s sake.

Yeah, yeah the wife feels better and that dude that drank lemonade and maple syrup and cayenne pepper didn’t die and to hell with him!   Who the fuck thought that was a good idea in the first place?  “Yeah let’s toss some raw lemon spooze, maple syrup, hot pepper and my balls into a glass and call it a ‘purge’, cause ‘purge’ is a hot word right now right?”

I wish I could write fad diets, I’d screw with all of you, one part unicorn, two parts Chinese bear gall bladder, five tears of a five year old … it’s modern day witchcraft and I’d have field day.

Anyway fuck the Master Cleanse dude he’s not dead (but hopefully writing here again), the diet was retarded and back to my shorts.

Also hihi GiGi … you rock.  To hell with you she does.

This is about my shorts.

My shorts man, my shorts.

They’re currently my favorite shorts because my real favorite shorts developed a hole in the butt that was so large the wife tossed them out.

She was right to do it though, damn her she normally is.   I mean you can’t wear them to the neighbor’s BBQ anymore at all.  “Hey great grilled pork Elka, have you seen my ass yet?  No?  Wait a moment and you will.  Hey Hans, did you catch the game?”

So here’s the issue.   They have a hole just above the knee on the right leg.   But every time I sit down my knee pokes through the hole and if I’m not careful, makes the hole bigger.

The quandary you ask, as in, “why the fuck are you bugging me with this bullshit” is this.

Should I just rip the hem off entirely or let it slowly die?

If I just rip off the hem entirely, I’m free of the fear that next Saturday morning I’ll inadvertently put my foot into the leg and rip it off like Bernard Madoff (which is the funniest last name ever, better than Anthony Weiner even, I mean MAD OFF, made off, I just pooped my favorite shorts laughing … ) but that exposes the shorts to undue stress and I’m not sure they can take it.

I need a shorts doctor stat.

I’m aware there are no shorts doctors.

Damn it.

P.S.  Dagmar says, after reading this, I’m just going to throw them out, it’s almost winter.

Master Cleanse dieter not dead but wished he was… Also now eating ‘food’

Fad diet boy is back!   You can read all about his previous experience with Master Cleanse here.

Master Cleanse Post Mortem

Well, that escalated rather quickly. Nearly two days into my ten-day Master Cleanse diet, it was over just as quick as it had begun. It was a strange experience to say the least, but then what should one expect when they embark on a ten day cleansing/starvation/

On day two of the cleanse, I weighed in at 187.2 lb. That means in just 24 I had dropped 5 lb. ‘Not too shabby,’ I thought at first. Half way to my goal in just a tenth of the time allotted. My girlfriend was less enthusiastic. “That’s dangerous,” she says, “It’s not healthy. You should probably stop!”

Sweet, sugary Brach's lemon drops. Made with r...

Lemons, God’s way of saying you’re a fat ass! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So, on I went into day two! The hunger pangs got bad every couple of hours. The diet recommends drinking (i.e. choking back) the lemonade 6 to 10 times a day. If you haven’t tried it, I can tell you, that’s no easy feat. The preparation for this stuff is annoying enough. The lemon juice has to be fresh squeezed and you have to finish it within 5 to 10 minutes of squeezing. God forbid anyone drink 11 minute old lemonade … now that would be unhealthy! That means having a ton of organic lemons available, and diligently preparing the cocktail every couple of hours. Then, it’s still just spicy lemonade, so there’s not a lot of satisfaction once it’s done.

What made day two even more unbearable was all the food surrounding me. My colleague, we’ll call her ‘Janne,’ sits about three feet from me in my office and had an early lunch. I could smell her sandwich before I could see it, but once I did, it was not a big help in my self-starving efforts. The thing was bigger than her head. It looked like someone folded a pizza over and sold it as a sandwich. ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ I thought! But that was just the start …

After skipping lunch, my task at work for the afternoon was to shoot a

This image shows a Large Cayenne.

Fad diet authors have all the luck, I’d love to trick people into drinking lemon juice with hot peppers. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

commercial on nutrition at the local school cafeteria. So this meant bringing in a wide assortment of food, (chicken wings, sandwiches, veggies, fruit salad) in for the shoot. Food that I had to smell, see, shoot etc. for hours!  This is the point when I realized, ‘Yeah dude, God totally hates me … ‘

I didn’t last much longer after that. At the end of the day my girlfriend was hounding me to go get food and go grocery shopping, so finally I caved.

I read somewhere on the internet that anyone can lose weight on a 1200 calorie a day diet (believe it or not, lemon juice, maple syrup and cayenne pepper six times a day adds up to 1200) whether on liquids or solids. So I resolved to aim for lower calories but still eat food. We picked up veggies, shrimp and brown rice. We cooked that with no butter, salt or additives and it was one of the most rewarding meals ever.

Two lessons I take away from my two-day-crash-fad-diet-bender:

A.)   Fasting is tougher than I thought it would be, but not impossible. I resolve to try it again every once in a while. We have so much around us that we have to learn moderation when it comes to satisfying urges and craving, but that’s not how we evolved. I think a little hunger is good now and then. It helps you appreciate the simple things.

B.)    Like most Americans, I pretty much believe anything I read on the internet.

By the way, did you know Obama’s from Kenya? And he’s actually gay?!

Rodney King’s autopsy shows we’re all idiots again, of COURSE he died with drugs in his system

The medical report’s in.  Turns out Rodney King died in his pool with a shit-ton of drugs and booze in his body and we as American’s suck, I’m not even going to add insult to injury with a phrase like ‘we American’s suck balls,’ it just sucks.

Why did we make fun of him, of his response to the situation into which he was thrust?  I know I did it too.  “Can’t we all just get along?”

Can’t we?

Fuck, really can’t we?

The simple answer is, “We can’t.”

We’re collectively too behind much of the modern world to look past the color of a person’s skin to do such.

Rodney saw it and said it.

Screenshot of footage of King beaten by LAPD o...

Holy crap sir, there is a bee on you! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Look the guy got his ass beat by the police, whether that was a ‘just’ ass-beating or an ‘unjust’ ass-beating does not matter, it’s what happened next that matters.

Riots broke out, across the country.  Riots about racial inequality, riots about police brutality and riots that we are still largely a nation of bigots broke out.

A repressed underclass took to the streets to voice their displeasure with ‘American Justice’ and what did the man that was the spark that set the riot to flame do, he asked us to get along.

He said, “Can’t we all just get along?”

And we mocked him for it.

No Mr. King.  We’re too busy saying your skin color is too black for my liking and yours is too brown for my liking and fuck all … we can’t do what you ask, we can mock it to no end but we can’t do the very simple thing you ask.

We can’t just get along.

I just deleted a few paragraphs because they were an attack on the political right, it may or may not have been a valid attack on the right, we’ll never know because I deleted them.  Anyone with any political brain at all can Google “voter registration” and form, what I feel, is a logical opinion.   It’s not a problem that needs fixing, it’s a problem the right needs to solve to serve their agenda.

It’s more the political left that left me pissed off, yeah you see what I did there.   We’re all tired of that meme, I’ll drop it post haste.

Where were you?   Why did his “can’t we all just get along” become mockery and not an anthem?   I was too politically naive at the time to give a shit but really shouldn’t the answer have been, “no really can’t we?”

Homosexual men, lesbians, immigrants, union members, government workers, middle class voters … all of you, myself included, I call to you, why isn’t “can’t we all just get along” equal to “all men are created equal”?

Delete the word men feminists reading this and use the term it’s meant to represent, human, why didn’t we all rally around that phrase, why was it mocked?

Rodney King never asked to be thrust into the spotlight but when he was he took the high road and said, boiled down, we’re all humans … We mocked him for that simple point.

We should be ashamed and I pray the history books are kinder to him than our collective idiocy was.   He was in the face of overwhelming  pressure, calmer than most of would have been.

“Can’t we all just get along?”

No Rodney, we can’t, there’s still a lot of work to do.  Rest in peace though, you took the high road when we fucked it up, yet again.

Guest Blogger G-Gank: From the Dysfunctional Mind of G-Gank.

So yeah, I’m phoning it in this week.  

First a blog about someone that thought consuming nothing but lemon juice, cayenne pepper sauce and maple syrup for 10 days was a great weight loss plan (no update after day one so  I presume he’s dead) we have G-Gank, a frequent commenter here, with the following.   

— Had a few beers.  (P.S. G-Gank this is really hysterical, I hope you do more here)

So I’m blogging….  WTF is wrong with this picture?  I’ve only read a few blogs in my life and they were all pretty cool but it’s not like I give a rats ass what anyone has to say because let’s face it 70% of our society is just really fucked up.
In the past 48 hours I have been bombarded with crazy-ass statistics that make me want to choke a random person on the street because it would probably make their life a hell of a lot better.  The other night I was shocked to hear that 5% of the population are hoarders, then my boss told me this morning that 2% are sociopaths.  Randomly, another friend informed me that Pedophiles make up 3% of the population (I have no idea how this came up but people always offer me random shit because they know I will enjoy it…. because they think I’m strange.)  So in just 48 hours I discovered 10% of the freaking world is really fucked in the head.  So it’s safe to assume that 70% is a realistic number.
I find this fucking hysterical because people always think I’m strange!!!!! … fuck them.  I’m one of those “what-you-see” is “what-you-get people” and a lot of people just can’t deal with that.  I hide nothing and that is shocking to many people.  I’m sure the consensus is that I’m a bit strange and maybe too straight forward.   I make it quite clear that I masturbate and I enjoy it.  I have 6 cats and 3 dogs and spend thousands of dollars every year on them.  I rather spend a week in the woods with my dogs than 15 minutes talking to any “normal” person.  I guess that does make me strange, eh?

Parked next to a hoarder.

Like this only more house than car. (Photo credit: Aric McKeown)

My former co-worker Frank was considered normal; in fact he was admired…. Great all-around guy, father, husband, who devoted much of his time to the Boy Scouts of America….. That is until the FBI came to our Federal Office at the EPA and arrested him for soliciting young boys on his Government Computer. Apparently the fucking guy loved to smell boy’s underwear.  But remember….  I’m the strange one because I talk about wacking off.
Then there is my buddy Carl, 35 years as a federal employee, awesome dude….  was at Woodstock!  (Pretty sure he still smoked weed).  Well his wife almost died in their house because the fucking paramedics could not get the stretcher into the bedroom because he had turned his house into a fucking landfill.  There was shit everywhere. How does one live this double life and hide the fact that you need to keep the April 21st classifieds from 1972?  Dude clean that shit up. But remember….  I’m the strange one because I talk about getting blow jobs from hookers in Thailand.

And I'm the one that's weird

Having sex with 6-year-olds = bad. A PSA from

Then there was the good old Petty Officer 1st Class Hitchcock loved by everyone and just an awesome Sailor (see attached Photo).  He was just about to retire from the United States Navy and buy that fishing boat of his dreams…. that is until the NCIS and the Jacksonville Police came and snatched him up for raping his next door neighbors little girl. Poooooooor  Hitchcock exclaimed the command, as I yelled kill that fucking freak!  I was crucified for pre-judging this guy prior to the judge giving him a life sentence.  Yeah I’m just so inconsiderate… because I wanted to put a bullet in that rapists skull. 
Yeah I’m not invited to cocktail parties….. hell most of my friends don’t want me around their families because they know what I am capable of saying or doing.  I say go fuck yourselves…  I’ll stay at home with my pets, maybe watch some porn…  and you just invite that quite, well groomed co-worker to your house to meet your wife and children….  after all he’s quite normal and harmless?  Or maybe you could invite that Minnesota State Representative Kerry Gauthier after all he a great American Patriot…. Oh wait is that the same elected official who was just caught at a rest stop getting a blow job from a 17-year-old boy?

Spicy lemonade with a chance of hallucinations … guest blogger with a trendy weight-loss plan, what can go wrong?

This is part one of what I hope are many parts … Today another mystery guest (cause no one wants their real name associated with this thing) talks about day one a diet called ‘master cleanse’ or some such crap.

Here we go …

Today I kicked off day 1 of my 10 day Master Cleanse adventure. “What the F is that” you say? It’s pretty simple … and by simple I mean fucking-stupid crazy …

For ten days I will forego solid food for a “lemonade” mixture of lemon juice,

just lemonade, for ten days, what could go wrong?

maple syrup and cayenne pepper. That’s right. Ten days, no food, just spicy lemonade. You can get all the details here.

So how did it to come to this? I’m an American and I’ve lived in Germany for four years now. I really look forward to getting back home every year or so, just to take in some American culture: Shopping and eating.

Well, after two weeks of gorging myself on every restaurant chain in sight back home in the States, I’m at my heaviest. weight. ever. So what better way to follow up a two week saturated fat binge than to chase is with a crash fad diet? I mean, right … ?

Exactly. Which brings me back to day one. Weighing in at a depressing 192.2 lbs., this morning was my starting point and I’m now about to call it a day.

So far, I can report that I am fucking hungry as shit and I would gladly strangle a transient for the chance to chew on stale bread … Other than that, so far, so good! The lemonade is just enough to keep me from gnawing my arm off, but it is only day one. Apparently, day two and three are much harder … as are day 5, day 7, day 9, day 4 and 6, 8 and 10 too … God this is going to suck …

I’m looking forward to seeing what I can shed in just 10 days, though. Also any side effects that include hallucinations or the perceived ability to fly or see through walls would be sweet but I won’t count on it …

So anyway, if you ever wanted to watch someone live-blog eating their own arm, stay tuned …

Wife’s in the hospital and the medical profession is weird. Seriously you folks are weird.

The good news upfront.

The wife’s in the hospital for at least one night and I have total access to porn or I can blog.

I chose to blog so you know what kind of dork I am.  That or I’m typing this one handed.

It’s up to you which one you believe.

Okay, stupid jokes aside.  She’s fine, the doctor realized I needed a night to blog and kept her.

Okay this time I mean it.  No more jokes.  At least until we clarify that yes the wife is fine and that the doctor wanted to keep her at least over night to pump her full of some antibiotics cause he has a medical degree and who are we to question that?

She’s totally fine, they caught ‘it’ early and anyway she’ll be home soon.   Seriously.  She’s good.   I’m pretty sure spilling out too much of her medical condition, here, violates something.

It might have been in our wedding vows but I wasn’t really paying attention.  Something, something, something, don’t blog about this woman’s medical stuff, something, something.  It was in there I’m sure.

She’s fine and that’s not what this update is about, only it kind of is, but in a roundabout way.

This is more about you medical professionals.

From the person that checks you into the hospital to the nurse that takes care of you to the doctor that treats you … yeah you folks …

What the fuck is wrong with all of you?

Don’t get me wrong you’re all saints, salt of the earth really and I’ll never get how any of you do it.

Not in a million years.

I avoid the doctor like the plague, which is odd cause the plague could be the reason I finally see one.    The plague or gout, I hope its gout cause gout sounds medieval.

Me to my imaginary medieval wife: “Well I WOULD go out and earn a living as the town drunkard tonight honey but fucking gout you know?”

Her:  “You just like saying gout.”

And I do like saying gout, so I’ll say it now.  You know to get it out.


But back to you medical professionals, all of you are saints namely cause, I couldn’t do it for a second.

Oh I could do it for a second.   Hell I could do it for more than that but eventually I’d snap.

There would be a patient, in the waiting room looking down and holding one of those plastic bag things you puke into in the waiting room, looking pathetic.

Doctor me: Just fucking puke already, Jesus.  Use your finger asshat, are you sick or retarded?

My bedside manner would be level ‘Hitler’.

You’re all so fucking nice.  Surrounded by sick and sick and some sick, you’re nice.

I’d be depressed as shit all day long.

“And why are you seeing the doctor today?  You’re vomiting blood?  Jesus that fucked up, you’ve got some weird shit that makes that happen and you’re prolly going to die or something, god this job sucks.  Fuck everyone that comes in here is sick.  Hang on the boss wants to see me, again.”

I know, I know, my mom was a nurse.  Bedside manner, don’t call the patient a fucking retard and never, never anoint the doctor with ‘holy water’.

Doctor leaving my wife’s room:  what are you doing?

Me: Blessing the ground you walked on with holy water.

Doctor:  That’s a bottle of ‘smart water’

Me:  I know I blessed it in the car last time I had a cigarette, totally snuck a beer while I did it too.

Doctor:  You’re some sort of “religious official?”

Me: Totally, Doctor of Divinity did it in the 90’s.  The internet was a bit wild-west, loosey-goosey back then.   Two hundred bucks and bam you’re a doctor of divinity, I’ll send you the link.  Dunno if it’s still active or not though.

Doctor:  Please stop following me.

Me: I get that a lot, go in peace my son.

For likely the same reason I’d make a great dictator, I’d make a shitty medical worker.  You folks don’t seem to realize (of course you realize but for the sake of the following very-weak joke, you don’t realize) that you hold all the power.   Are you cold?  Fuck off and ask NICELY for a blanket.  Are you comfortable? Fuck you I’ll adjust whatever I want on my whim, you sick person need me more than I need you.

Seriously the surgeon, cause it looked for a moment like my wife was going into surgery, that did the consult with my wife found me wandering later in the hallways looking for a bathroom.  It was a familiar face and I asked him if he knew where a bathroom was figuring he just ‘knew’.    Shortly after I asked I realized he was in a hurry to the next appointment but he took the time to help me find one.

DUDE you save lives, I have to pee.  Hell if it gets bad enough I’ll pee my pants, I’ll pee in one of the hospital’s plants, hell I can just hold it.  Go, sir, go and tell me it’s ‘that way’ and go save lives.

I’d punch each of us in the face.  That in fact WOULD be the bill for each question.

I’ll answer your retard question sir or ma’am but the answerer requires that I punch you, in the face, yeah government regulations.  Sorry.

Mesh panties and pink saline bullets is a party medical people … we’re on to you.

I’ll end with the fact that she and I laughed snot out of noses about some of the names you all give shit.   Your fuckers aren’t funny, or maybe you are, cause the names of shit that ‘must be checked every shift’ are fucking hysterical.

Seriously mesh panties and pink saline bullets (see photo)?

What the fuck kind of weird sex parties are you fuckers having in these rooms after hours and can we get invites?


I mean once she’s better of course.

How not to buy your wife chocolate

I hope this comes across in the self-help spirit I intend. I’m hoping some level-two husband, you know the kind diligently watching Oprah reruns with his wife in hope of someday achieving level 5 so he gets the “night out with the boys” pass and eventually the level 25 “yeah it’s just us going to Vegas honey — no chicks,” uber-achievement special ability.

Or am I mixing up video games and real life again? Let that be a warning to all you young husbands out there, eventually the reward becomes you’ll agree to paint the fucking kitchen plaid if she’ll just shut up and leave you alone for 5 minutes.

Next time, I cut you.

Her: Honey I think we should paint your man-cave pink and decorate it with kitten photos …

You: Do you mean right now?

Her: No, no. Next week.

You: Fine as long as it’s not right now.

You get the drift.

The lesson, if she assumes it’s for her, it’s for her. I care not if you have to re-climb Mount Everest to get another item, the item you have that she thinks is for her, Is For Her.

You can stop reading right now, right here. That’s it in a nutshell. It’s a shitty intor to this update but it’s the gist of it.

There’s of course a reason I bring this up and that was the worst way to intro this story in the history of any damned story ever but here we are.

There’s a small convenience store not too far from my office. Close yet far enough away to warrant a general office-wide shout, “I’m going to the shoppette, does anyone need anything.” We all do this, sometimes people do want something, and sometimes they don’t.

Today the boss’s sweet tooth got the better of him and he wanted a bar of German chocolate. I was going to the store because I wanted a cup of coffee and the wife indicated she’d like a cup too she works, almost literally, next door to the store.

Yeah, yeah Dick Fucking Tracey you figured out where I’m going with this. Give yourself a ‘had a few beers special-little detective badge’ and keep reading.

So going to the store, two coffees and one chocolate (no I don’t need a bag but thank you mister check out dude with the weird pentagram necklace) later I find the Frau.

Who snatches up the chocolate like it’s her birth rite and I should be honored that I brought it to her.

Queen Lord Emperor of Oliverdom: “I see you brought me chocolate worthless peon! I will forgive you this time, that it does not contain nuts or fruits or other wholesome goodness as you have also brought the juice of the coffee

This chocolate does not contain nutty goodness … take it away!

plant, hot as I prefer it, but do not make this mistake again or you will feel my wrath though hundreds of trips to Ikea. Now be gone!”

Okay it wasn’t that bad but I was like, ‘fuck, now I have to go back to the store.”

The boss pointed out, when I told him he owed me double the cost of the chocolate that next time he’d send me for flowers.

He’s a laugh a fucking minute I tell you …

I also noticed that when she came home, the chocolate was in her bag, unopened.

Finally yes, she insists I ‘bold’ the words ‘Queen Lord Emperor of Oliverdom’.

Cause if I don’t … Ikea.