I’m not going to try to claim that I am a poster child for “Maturity”.
I fully embrace my childish nature. I think it’s what keeps me so youthful and gorgeous.
But, at least when I’m at work, I try REALLY hard to act like a professional adult. Bosses tend not to respond too kindly to someone who comes off as immature.
But C’mon, there is only so much a man can stand…..
As we speak (or, I should say ‘type’. Well, I’M the one ‘typing’, YOU are ‘reading’. Oh fuck it, you know what I mean), I am at my office, currently embroiled on a much-longer-than-it-needs-to-be conference call.
About 15 minutes ago, one of the people on the line thought that we needed to patch in someone else onto the call, who is more familiar with the issue we’re discussing.
A few seconds later, the friendly conference-call-computer-chick cheerfully informs the rest of us….
“Richard Bender…. Has joined the conference!”
No FUCKING way.
How badly do you think Mr. Bender’s parents HATED him at birth in order for them to be ok with naming their son DICK BENDER?
Dick Bender! I still can’t believe it.
I am sitting here imagining his parents having to send young Ricky Bender to train Martial Arts with Tibetan monks when he was an infant, in a mad effort to prepare him to defend himself for the inevitable onslaught of abuse that must have dogged him on the first day of school every year when the teacher called the first attendance…. “DICK BENDER? IS THERE A DICK BENDER HERE?”
I keep putting my phone on mute while I stifle giggles every time someone asks Dick if what we are attempting to do will be “hard”.
“So, Richard, is it hard?”
Apparently not, because if he was hard, he wouldn’t be able to bend it, would he?
I wonder how his sister, Titty Twister, is doing?
I know, I’m a child, but this shit is funny, yo.
I feel bad for the guy.
At least I did, until a few moments ago, when they needed to patch in ANOTHER person on the call.
Yup, Dick Staine.
I’m not making this shit up. I think someone out there is testing me…. seeing if I will just crack and start cackling into the phone.
I can do this.
Must. Control. My. Breathing.
Ok, I feel better now. I think I got this.
At least, as long as they decide not to patch in “Buster Hymen”, I should be good.
Somebody asked me today what my political affiliation is.
That question always pisses me off. Labeling each other with the implications of voting along ‘party’ lines has always struck me as one of the stupidest damn things a person could do.
In fact, I’ve always said that I think the concept of the ‘2 party system’ should be shit-canned completely. I’ve never understood what service that antiquated system serves.
I mean, if I had to pick a side that my ideology is more aligned with, then I’d have to say that I am a liberal Democrat.
Except that I’m not.
I don’t think ANYONE is really COMPLETELY in line with any one political party. Or at least, they SHOULDN’T be.
I know that it sounds kind of simplistic and naïve, but I’m really just about voting for the best person that’s running, whether they be a Republican, Democrat, Independent, or Lesbian Nazi Party.
Ok, maybe voting for a Nazi would be a stretch. Plus, I’m pretty sure the Nazi party doesn’t have too many lesbians, so right there the Nazi party and I are at a fundamental impasse. Come to think of it, I think if there were more lipstick lesbians in the Nazi party, they might learn to lighten up a little. Because, quite frankly, I think they are a tad uptight. Just an observation I’ve gleaned.
What was I talking about again?
Oh yeah, the party system.
Anyway, it just gets my goat when I see our political leaders voting blindly along party lines. Like just last week, when EVERY SINGLE REPUBLICAN voted to repeal our new health care initiative. Really, guys? Every single one of you felt that way about it? Holy shit, being a part of a political party has become like being a part of the Borg. Not that the democrats are any better… they pull the same kind of shit.
Anyway, to get back to the beginning of my post……. Today someone asked me what my political affiliation was, and I said, “I vote for the best man for the job. Period”
P.S. Notice that I said “Man”. That’s cause I don’t think girls should do anything except run around in sexy underwear and service me. Well, maybe not, but I think that the world would be a better place if we at least gave that a shot. Look, I’ve been more than happy to try things YOUR way, now at least try to be open-minded and try MY way for a bit. What do ya say?
Ever since season 2, I have watched American Idol.
For the life of me, I don’t think I’d be really able to tell you why I started watching it in the first place.
I’m not a big music fan, and I have never been able to stomach ‘talent’ competitions, like the Miss America Pageant, or Star Search, or their ilk.
But back in Season 2, I decided to tune in one night to see what all the hoopla was about. It was one of their first episodes of the season, back when it is still the ‘early’ phase of the show when they parade out an army of mutants and trolls for us all to laugh at. Headed by the caustic Simon Cowell’s biting remarks, I found it funny. Funny enough to tune in again, anyway. Then again. And again.
Cut to 8 years later and I am astounded that I have watched every episode since. I say ‘astounded’ because, over the years, the more I’ve watched the show, the more it aggravates me.
And now, with this new season, the inarguable BEST part of the show, Simon, has left, to be replaced by Jennifer Lopez (who everyone in the world says is the biggest bitch-like diva the universe has ever known), and Stephen Tyler (who, let’s be honest, on a GOOD day, is about as unintelligible as David Lee Roth and HIS ramblings).
And don’t even get me started on the fact that there is a 5 minute commercial break every 6 minutes or so, or the fact that the results show, which has ONLY 1 purpose (to tell us who is getting kicked off that week), now PAINFULLY stretches to ONE HOUR! Holy shit, by the end of that hour I just want to reach through my television and donkey punch Ryan Seacrest right in his balloon-knot!
So, given all this negativity, why in the world would I continue to watch it this season?
He absolutely LOVES watching it with me. Admittedly, I think the main reason he ‘likes’ it so much, is because on the days it’s on, I let him stay up after his bed-time to watch it.
But damn it all, he is just SO damn cute sitting next to me on the couch in his Spider-Man pajamas, as we watch ass-hat after ass-hat warble out a Jason Mraz tune. And as annoyingly frustrating as the show is, it is one of the few ‘family’ shows that we can sit down and watch together.
And it means SO damn much to him for us to watch it.
I really meant to post this on Friday, when the story first hit and everyone was talking about it.
But real life and laziness (maybe not in that order) got the better of me, so I’m just getting to posting it now. Of course, you’ve all probably seen this already, so this whole post is by now probably pretty damn moot.
Anyway, for those that haven’t seen it, the video below was taken early last week by a passenger on his cell phone, while riding the NYC subway.
We’ve all heard the stories about the armies of rats, alligators, and C.H.U.D.’s that populate the sewer systems of Manhattan, and I can confirm that EVERY SINGLE ONE of those stories are true.
Especially the C.H.U.D.s. One time, while waiting for the 2 train below Wall Street, I was accosted by something barely human, asking me if I could read his (it’s) Tarot Cards for him. When I said that I couldn’t, he called me a “Homo Fag” and shambled off. Surely, that HAD to be a C.H.U.D., right?
And what the fuck IS a “Homo Fag” anyway? I’m not strong in literary verbiage, but wouldn’t a “FAG” who was of the “HOMO” variety of “Fag”, really be straight? Like one of those double-negative thingies? Confused, I tried to enter into a parlay with the chap about this very thing as he slumped off, but he didn’t seem up for a spirited debate.
What the hell was I talking about, again?
Oh yeah, check out this video of a rat crawling up some guy and kissing his face.
I REALLY tried to use the power of positive thinking a-la The Secret to make this one happen for me. I kept picturing myself on that island: sleeping on the beach, hearing the surf crash incessantly in the distance, strolling through the jungle, banging howler monkeys that strayed too close to our camp….
Did I just share too much?
Anyway, I’d tell you all that out of the ten people CBS selected, I was MUCH better looking than any of them, but then that goes without saying, doesn’t it? It’s kinda like saying “Al Pacino is a much better actor than Yahoo Serious.”
So, in the end, I guess the third time was most definitely NOT the charm for me. But that’s ok….. as soon as they have another audition, I’ll be sure to be taking off my clothes again and submitting another video. I will NOT give up on this one. Nope. Not gonna happen.
And I’d LIKE to be gracious and say something like “It was an honor just to be nominated”, but cmon, we all know that when people say that it’s bullshit. What they REALLY mean is, “I’m a loser and I just want to go home and put on my Elmo feetie pajamas and eat Ben and Jerry’s while watching reruns of Three’s Company.”
Anyway, thanks to all you sexy people who gave me some positive feedback and vibage. I owe each and every one of you an oiled-up lap dance. With the possibility of sex afterwards in the back room.
A strong possibility.
A VERY strong possibility. Wink, wink.
Sheesh, you’re thick. Look, I’ll gladly bang you, ok?
If your company is like mine, you probably have one of those “emergency” numbers that you can call in the morning to make sure that your company is open for business.
Like if there is a natural disaster or hazardous condition of some kind……
You know, like a fucking impending blizzard!
Well, my company has one of those phone numbers, too.
The problem with MY company’s emergency number, however, is that it’s a complete fucking sham.
Yup, a total sham.
Let’s back up a bit…..
Tonight, going into tomorrow morning, Long Island is likely to be hit by one of the worst snowfalls we have had in years. I know that the weather channel likes to pump this kinda shit up so they can take their boring-ass channel and get some ratings for once, but all indications seem to imply that tonight’s storm will be a doozy.
And that would be ok with me, if the place that I worked for cared enough about their employees to give them the day off, or at least a delayed opening, in case of rough roads tomorrow.
But hey,isn’t that JUST what our emergency number, 844-COLD (isn’t that just SO cutsey? Barf), is for?
I have just gotten hold of a super-secret corporate memo that just went out to only Senior VP’s that states, in a nutshell, that 844-COLD is a sham that they must perpetrate in order to keep the unions off their ass, and that they must continue to tell their employees that they should call in to 844-COLD every snow day to see if we’re open for business, EVEN THOUGH 844-COLD WILL NEVER AGAIN BE UPDATED and that we will NEVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, CLOSE!
Well, isn’t that just a fine and dandy way to treat your employees…..
It’s bad enough that they don’t care enough about whether we live or die enough to not want us on the icy roads tomorrow, but they don’t even have the stones to come out and TELL US that we will never close, instead having people continue to call this fucking number for a message that they don’t realize will never again change.
Nice. Way to stay classy.
Anyway, I’m done venting. I think I actually feel much better now that I got that off my chest.
This is usually the part, after a fight, that I go have some crazy make-up sex, but the only person in my immediate vicinity is Ted from the mailroom, and he really isn’t my type.
Plus, his beard keeps tickling my inner thighs.
Loin-cloth update: I find out if I made it to the top 10 on Survivor TODAY. Scratch that. I DID make it on! I need to stay positive and use the power of mental persuasion. Actually, as of 30 minutes ago, they hadn’t updated their website yet. They’re probably trying to find a picture that best shows my ripped biceps. Yeah, that must be it.
Ok, I guess I’ve played coy long enough. I don’t think ‘coy’ has ever described me very well, so I might as well just show ya the damn thing.
I’ve applied 2 times previously. This time around CBS didn’t ask applicants to fill out their 2,000 page legal form, which was a Godsend. All I had to do was post a video, under 1 minute in length. After I submitted it the first time, I got an email from CBS saying they wanted to accept it but I had to prove that the picture I had hanging in the background was my own work of art. Are they kidding me? It was a painting of James Dean, for God’s sake! Anyway, after much cursing, I re-did the video with anything within eyesight removed from the frame, which is why it looks like I’m standing in solitary confinement.
CBS doesn’t divulge how many people apply, but I’d imagine it was a lot. Anyway, they accepted my 2nd video, and I am now one of about 2,300 people who are vying for a shot on the show.
Mind you, I have no delusions that I’m actually moving on to the next round. Next week, CBS will hand-pick ONLY TEN videos out of the 2,300, and THEN they are going to put those ten online for America to vote and out of THOSE ten, they strongly imply that only the highest vote-getter will be flown to Los Angeles for an audition.
So yeah, I’ve got almost no chance. But I guess, for once in my life, I’m gonna try to not be my usual, pessimistic self and pretend to me one of those annoying/“The Secret”/“I can do anything if I just believe hard enough” types.
Ladies, before viewing, please try to use your Lamaze technique to control your breathing, or whatever it is you chicks do when you see someone you really want to bang but, for whatever reason, need to control yourself.
And if anyone gets the urge to mail me their panties, please let me know in the comments and I will gladly forward you my mailing address.
Anyway, here it is:
I-Hate-Technology-Edit: Stupid embedding from CBS is giving me problems. If you can't see it, try THIS direct link instead.
If by some miracle I DO manage to get to the next level, you all better believe I’m hitting all you sexy folks up to get the word out and vote.
I’m gonna need all the help I can to get more votes than the chick with big tits from Wisconsin who is outside making snow-angels in a bikini.
Hello, my lovely internet-ers! Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a wonderful, safe, and sexy holiday season.
I thought what better way to recap what’s been going on in my amazingly beautiful head than to serve up some tasty bullet-time, so here goes….
- I have officially done it! As I mentioned a month or so ago, I was looking for ideas for my audition video for the upcoming Survivor auditions, and since last week was the first round of the open casting call, I created a video and submitted it. Much to my teenage-girl-like glee, CBS has accepted my video and I am now one of 2300 people who will be judged before moving on to the next level of auditions. How cool is that shit? Later on this week, If I’m feeling brave enough, I’ll probably throw up a link to the video here.
- The saga of the gerbils continues. As you recall, I bought Mini-Me 2 gerbils for his birthday in November. Someone needs to explain the birds and bees to me again, because somehow, in the span of 1 month, the 2 became 9. Anyone want a lovable rodent as a pet? No? How about 7 then? Still no? Fuck.
- Christmas with Mini-Me was once again a total blast. It is so unbelievably cool to celebrate Christmas with a small person who still thinks that his presents are being given to him by a magical fat man. I get sad when I think that I probably don’t have many more Christmases left where he’ll still believe that. This could even be the last one. Sniff.
- Yesterday marked my first day back at work in almost 3 weeks. I’m not sure if any of you realize this, but working for a living kinda blows. I’d much rather be doing what I was doing LAST week at this time….namely sitting on the couch in my underwear watching cheesy horror movies filled with naked chicks with naked boobies on Netflix. Instead, I’m sitting here in my office, where I unfortunately am FORCED to wear more than my underwear. It probably explains why I’m such a pissy mood.
- Realizing how much I really DO detest working makes me want to be on Survivor all the more. And let’s all be honest…. Wouldn’t all just DIE to see me running around a tropical island in a loincloth?
That’s all for now, my lovelies. Let’s hope that 2011 keeps us all happy, healthy, employed, and sane.