Hair-Raising

Yeah, I know, I haven’t posted in a week, but that’s because I always take most of December off each year, and this go-round is no exception.  And as we all know, if I’m not working, I’m not blogging.

What, you think I’m gonna spend time trying to entertain you on my OWN time?

Anyway, because the gods of fate are indeed cruel to me, I ended up getting called in to work today, so as I sit here in an almost empty office, doing nothing, I figured I might as well crank out one more post for 2010.

Not that this post is a gem or anything.  But I was sitting here planning out my annual New Year’s Eve party, and I got to thinking about last year’s near-catastrophe, which THEN made me think of the video below.

You’ve all seen this by now, I’m sure.  It happened about 2 weeks ago at that asshat Puff Daddy’s House Party (whatever the hell THAT is).  For some reason, Puff Daddy seems to think that when he has a party and tries to get laid, he should videotape it because he thinks it’s something we’d all love to see.

Unfortunately for him, this time he was right. 

All I can think of every time I see this is…. “Better this Ho’s hair than my living room again!”
Anyway, here’s hoping that Santa was good to all my little sexy elves out there. I miss you all, and promise to stop by your places again in the new year. You know, when I’m working again and all….

Happy New Years, everybody! Be safe and have fun!

All This Because I Wanted More Inches

So, because I don’t spend enough time playing games on my computer, I decided that this year I wanted to do what all the COOL geeks are doing: I wanted to purchase THREE big widescreen computer monitors, and hook ‘em all up like the picture above.


So I asked Friz about it, knowing that the hardware I wanted to buy wouldn’t be cheap, and much to my surprise, she said “Sure! Go for it!”

Now, I’m experienced enough to know by now that when she gives me carte blanche like that to buy some ridiculously expensive toy that I want but don’t really need, it USUALLY means that she has ALREADY decided to spend an even GREATER amount of money on some shit for the house, usually without asking me.

Regardless, when I got the go-ahead to purchase all this equipment on-line, I asked no questions like a good child and just did as I was told. The monitors came the other day, and I’ve been having a blast gaming all week. Last night I was chopping off Zombie heads in Left For Dead in 72 inches of bloody widescreen heaven!

Never once did I think it would come back to bite me in THIS way.

Come with me now as I, recall in perfect detail, our conversation from last night:

“Me: Hey, you haven’t asked me what I want for Christmas yet.”

“Her: What do you mean?”

“Me: I mean, there’s only like 1 week left till the big day, and you haven’t gotten me anything yet. You’d better get a move on because I don’t want to be surprised with some crappy sweater.”

“Her: What are you talking about? You already GOT your Christmas present for this year.”

“Me: Huh?”

"Her: You heard me."

“Me: I did? Well where the Hell is it? It’s not the meatloaf we had last night, is it? Because, while it was indeed tasty, I don’t think it qualifies as something I’d want under the tree on Christmas morning.”

“Her: No, smartass…. I’m talking about your new computer monitors.”

“Me: My monitors? They weren’t a present….. I ordered them myself! I PAID for them myself! With my OWN money!”

“Her: That doesn’t matter. You’re money is MY money. “

“Me: Since when?”

“Her: Since forever. I told you that you could buy them, but they were your Christmas present.”

“Me: You can’t do that! There was NO disclaimer that if I bought these monitors that it would be my Christmas present!”

“Her: I didn’t HAVE to say it. It was understood.”

“Me: By who? Cause it sure as shit wasn’t understood by me!”

“Her: Well, now you’re up to speed. Those monitors are your Christmas present.”

“Me: You really can’t do that. It defies the rules of Christmas!”

“Her: A) No it doesn’t, and B) You’re being an ass.”

“Me: Ok, let me ask you something.”

“Her: Shoot”

“Me: When was the last time you bought anything for yourself?”

“Her: Me? Hmmm let’s see. Oh yeah, I bought those new boots for myself last month.”

“Me: Yeah, I remember those. How much did they cost?”

“Her: They weren’t cheap. I think they ran me about 200 dollars”

“Me: I see. “

“Her: You see what? Why do you want to know about my new boots?”

“Me: Do you like your new boots? I mean, are you happy with them?”

“Her: Am I happy with them? Yeah, I guess so. I’ve been wearing them so I guess I like them.”

“Me: Well, those boots are YOUR Christmas present from me!”

“Her: Wait, what? No they aren’t!”

“Me: Yup, I hope you like them. Merry Christmas!”

“Her: I could fucking strangle you right now if I thought that I could get away with it”

“Me: You should. At least you’d have some of your new outfit already bought for the trial!”



Anyway, I still stand by my assertion that I just got jipped out of present under the tree.

And yes, I DID really get her something else. I just needed to have some fun at her expense.

Mixed Nuts

So, being the awesome Uber-Daddy that I am, tomorrow I will be the class parent on Mini-Me’s school field trip.


We are going to see the Nutcracker.

Now, I have a bit of a confession to make.

I’ve never been one for the Ballet.

Now don’t get all uppity with me. Believe me, I understand the art, and the beauty, and the incredible dedication it takes to point yourself on your tippy toes and all that nonsense, but the truth is that actually having to sit thru the whole thing for a few hours always just seemed like an ‘ordeal’ to me.

I mean, I appreciate the work and dedication that proctologists have to go thru to learn their craft, but that doesn’t mean that I want to sit in and watch some old biddy get a colonoscopy anytime soon….

What was I talking about again?

Oh yeah, the ballet. Like I said, I just don’t get it.

Plus, besides the whole ‘boredom’ thing getting to me, I’m just slightly worried about what ‘kind’ of nutcracker we’ll be seeing.

You know what I’m talking about, right?

What I’m saying is…. I want to see THIS kind of nutcracker….

…. And not THIS kind of nutcracker.

I totally agree that it’s childish and immature of me, but watching guys prance around all commando like this makes me a tad uncomfortable. I mean, we all know what I’M looking at, and I know what YOU are looking at, and we BOTH know what the people sitting NEXT to me are looking at, but we all will sit there pretending like no one is looking at the outline of some guys hog dancing around in front of me.

Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather not be seeing any guy’s junk flapping around in my face…….

…. unless he buys me a drink first, of course.

With 6 You Get Eggroll

Since this is my last working week of the year before taking my yearly Christmas stay-cation , I’ve been ESPECIALLY busy around the office.

And by “busy”, I mean that I am fucking around on the internet much more than usual.

Since my job restricts pretty much EVERYTHING, I can’t really get to any cool sites (I can’t even get here to Slydesblog, for gosh sakes… the only way I can post here during the day is through cyber-techie nerd trickery!), but every once in a while, I DO manage to find a cool website that will occupy some of my time.

Today I found THIS one…

It’s basically an IMDB movie-ish kinda site, but I have had a great deal of fun looking at the listing, by year, of what movies opened up on which days.

Then I thought it would be fun to see what movie came out the closest to the day I was born (without going over).

For me, it was the wonderful Doris Day/Burt Landcaster classic With Six You Get Eggroll!

Barf.

Actually, I have to cop to remembering watching this one with my parents back when I was a kid, and at least back then, I didn’t totally hate it, and it DID have a ridiculously young George Carlin in it, so I guess it wasn’t ALL bad…..

But I’m STILL pissed that if only my birthday was 2 weeks later, my movie would have been Night Of The Living Dead, which would have been oh so much more fitting.

Ok, Feedback time! What movie came out closest to the day YOU were born?

Spolier: I already looked up Earl’s….

It was Gone With The Wind.

Wouldn’t You Like To See ME Like This?

C’mon, you know you would, right?


Naked, tanned, glistening with sweat?

I think I just turned MYSELF on. I might have to take a moment to compose myself.

……

Ok, I’m back. Where was I?

Oh yeah, the reason I’m posting….

CBS announced yesterday that they are holding on-line web auditions this week for Survivor!

As some of you might remember, I am fairly obsessed with the show.

I’ve applied 2 times in the past. The first time I applied (which would have been for Survivor 3: Africa), I had actually made it past the first round of the interview process.

THIS is my time. I can feel it.

I WILL be on that show …..

And I had a great idea for a video, too. It involved Mini-Me and I doing a cute little routine. It was comedy gold! Gold, I tells ya!

The only problem is, last night CBS put out the rules for the video, and having anyone OTHER than yourself in the video is now a big no-no.

Anyway, here are the rules:

- You must answer the question, “Why do YOU think you can win Survivor?”


- Videos must be between 30 and 60 seconds, not 1 second longer!


- No music, lyrics, or anything copyrighted can appear


- No survivor logos or images or former contestants


- Only I can be in the video ( I said that already!)



From there, in January CBS will pick 10 of their favorites and have people vote on them, based on creativity (25%), feasibility of winning (25%), personality (25%), and body language (25%).

Ok, why did I post all this stuff?

Isn’t it obvious? I need a good idea, dammit, and I need YOU all to come up with one for me!

Seriously, I’ll do anything. If I like what you have to say, I’ll commit to doing it. I am going to try to upload a video this weekend, so if you have a good idea, for the love of all that is Holy, tell me quick!

And if your idea DOES get me on the show, I will perform as much hot, sweaty, monkey-sex on you that you can stand.

See? We ALL win!

Damn The Dutch

For the past few months, I keep hearing more and more about this movie. It’s kinda taken the Indie and Foreign horror market by storm.

Has anyone actually seen this film yet?

The Human Centipede (First Sequence) is a Dutch horror film. The film tells the story of a German doctor who kidnaps three tourists and joins them surgically, mouth to anus, forming a "human centipede".

I totally did not make any of that shit up!

Yup, a mad doctor kidnaps 3 young students (2 of them are hot chicks, the other a dude). Being a mad doctor, he of course can’t settle for just killing them or ripping their tops off to play with their boobies….

….no, the responsible physician in THIS tale decides to experiment and see what would happen if he surgically grafted 3 people ass to mouth and let them run around on the floor like a giant Zhu Zhu Pet.

Look, as many of you know, I’m as up for a good horror movie as anyone. I even enjoy many of the torture porn movies like Saw and Hostel and the like, but try as I might, I just haven’t been able to pull the trigger on watching this one yet.

Even though I haven’t seen it yet, many other people have. I think it has now been responsible for more people throwing up in the theatre than Iron Man 2.

In any event, the movie has been popular enough that there is a sequel coming out soon.

That’s right, The Human Centipede II (Full Sequence), has been planned for theaters in 2011, with filming started in London in June 2010. The plot of Full Sequence involves a centipede made from TWELVE people, because I guess after seeing 3 people grafted ass-to-face, the only way to really up the ante was to make it an even dozen.

I WILL get the courage to watch this soon.

Just don’t expect me to feel sexy afterwards….

Conversations From Last Night

Her: Could you do me a favor?

Him: Sure. What’s up?

Her: Could you please stop just THROWING your shoes in the hall closet? They pile up into a big mountain and it’s annoying.

Him: Really?

Her: Yes. It’s annoying to open the closet and see a pyramid of shoes looking at me.

Him: You think the shoes are looking at you?

Her: You know what I mean.

Him: Do I?

Her: You’re going to give me a hard time about this, aren’t you?

Him: Yes, I surely am.

Her: Why?

Him: Why? Why? Because EVERY DAMN DAY when I come home from work, I open the front door, take ONE step inside, and routinely fall flat on my ass because when YOU come home YOU KICK OFF YOUR SHOES AND LEAVE THEM RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE DOOR FOR ME TO TRIP OVER!

Her: You’ve never tripped over my shoes….

Him: I’ve never NOT tripped over your shoes! I’VE Tripped over them, your son has tripped over them…. I’m pretty sure everyone who has ever stepped foot into this house has tripped over them!

Her: Now you’re exaggerating…

Him: Am I? Go ask your son how many times I have walked into this house carrying packages and ended up looking like I’m a fucking plate-spinner in a fucking carnival act as I try to hold on to what I’m carrying while I’m sailing across the hallway on one of your discarded high heels!

Her: Have you ever REALLY gotten hurt?

Him: No, but that’s only because I have catlike reflexes.

Her: Why are you being a dick?

Him: Because I have to wonder why it’s a priority to make sure that the shoes that I have put safely away in the closet MUST be in a neat row, but you choose to fly by the seat of your pants when it comes to me getting assaulted every time I walk into this house like I’m Inspector Clouseau!

Her: You can never make anything easy, can you?

Him: Sure!  I can EASILY crack my fucking head open every time I put my key in the door!  Would that work for you?

Her: You’re an ass. I married an ass.