I've mentioned before about how one of my favorite things to do on the interwebs (besides porn) is reading news stories, usually from Yahoo, and then read the user comments below. The people's comments are always best part of the story.... there are some damn funny sons-of-bitches out there.
But, there are also some sickos out there. Real nuts who i think should be put down before they do any more damage to the gene pool.
What i'm getting at is, one minute i'm laughing my ass off while reading a story about a huge fire in a factory in China, where one commenter posted "Chinese fire drill! I mean it this time!".......
... and after the next story i feel like i need to take a shower.
Earlier, I was reading about Carrie Fisher and the fact that she is apparently Bi Polar and during a cruise last week where she was a featured entertainer, she apparently had an episode where she forgot all the words to her songs and cleaned up dog shit on the stage with a napkin and then crammed the napkin inside a couch.
I figured that i'd no doubt get a chuckle out of many of the 'concerned' people commenting, but then i came across this post:
"Question: there was this girl in my apt that would get extremely "horney" and i would kinda take advantage of her until i realized that she would forget the next day. I never forced myself on her at any time but now reading these posts makes me realize that possibly i was kinda raping her ???? I dont want to get into trouble or nothing and we havent done it in about a month and she never complained to me or even remembers it. So can i get into trouble. I live here in boston and they really are crackin down on the so called date rape thing. I could always say we were drunk and did some drugs whitchis true but i think unless she complains now that she is seeing a therapist for het bye polor disease and he is asking alot of questions about whos she been with. So the question is that if she is going thru a bye polor thing and gets horney and i hit it is that rape if she doesnt remember ?????? Thank you t. Klowskie"
That's gotta me some guy's attempt at a joke, right? Can that be for realz?
Well, Mr. Klowskie, thank you for lessoning my hope for humanity by another notch. Well done, sir!
So, i TRIED to post yesterday, but of course whatever the hell problem has been happening with my domain provider was going strong yesterday, because this is the first time i can actually get to the site from here at work.
I'm all for teaching girls how to go to the bathroom. After all, without that knowledge, the world would be a messy place.
But wasn't there a way in the 1990's for little girls to learn besides THIS?
p.s. Does anyone else want to crack that thing open just to see what that stuff tastes like, or is it just me?
I was hanging out with some friends the other day, and we got to talking about the wildest dates we ever went on.
Because i am incredibly popular with the ladies, i had to confess that i have a good gaggle of odd dating stories hidden up in my beautiful head.
But as we were talking, the story I'm about to relate was the first one that i thought of. If pressed, i certainly could think of weirder girls i went out with (some MUCH weirder... like 'restraining order' weirder), but when just considering the 'date' part of the date, this one, for me, takes the cake.
The date was June 28, 1997. You might think it odd that i remember the exact date, but you'll soon see why it would be a date i can easily remember.
'Debbie' was a new girl who started working at my job. She naturally checked me out at our company picnic that summer, and after asking around about me, a mutual friend set us up to go out that weekend. Debbie seemed nice, was really cute, and had a body that wouldn't quit. That's much more than i usually require in a girl, so of course i agreed.
We agreed to go out that Saturday. It was supposed to be really hot out that Summer day, so she surprised me and said that she wanted us to spend the day at Splish Splash, a local Long Island water park. It was a chance to check out this girl in a bikini, so of course i agreed.
When i got to her house, she surprised me by telling me that we had to first go to the train station to pick up 2 of her friends, another couple who would be joining us that were coming out from New York City. When we picked them up, the guy looked like a scraggly biker dude, and the chick was a statuesque American Indian... she was gorgeous.
Anyway, they seemed nice enough, so off to Splish Splash we went. We spent the entire day there, and we all seemed to get along really well. About 5 o'clock we headed home. When we reached her apartment, Debbie said that she was having a great time and that we should all go out to dinner at an Italian restaurant nearby. So, i quickly drove home (she lived 10 minutes from me), showered, got dressed, and met them back at her place.
Dinner, like the trip to the water park, went great. Near the end of the dinner, Debbie asked me:
"Do you like Styx?"
"You mean, the stuff on trees? Sure, they're awesome!"
"No, the band, silly. I have tickets for Styx and Pat Benetar playing at Radio City Music Hall and I'd like to take you."
"Sure, that would be great! When is the concert?"
"In 2 hours"
"Say what now?"
"It starts at 8pm. Lets get to the train fast and head to Manhattan."
So, we raced to the train station, and managed to hoof it to midtown and made it to Radio City right in the middle of Pat Benetar's first song. It was an awesome concert, and i was glad we went.
After the show, the other couple told us about a party they were invited to somewhere in the Village to watch the Tyson Hollyfield boxing match. They invited us to go, so we tagged along.
When we got the apartment, there had to be about 40-50 people in the loft, and everyone just seemed very weird to me. Not just 'NYC-Weird', either.... they were 'Weird-Weird'. My first tip off was that when we got there, the fight hadn't started yet, and the big screen TV there was blasting 70 inches of gay porn.
Gay Porn! And everyone was just standing around it watching it like it was CNN!
Anyway, the fight thankfully started and we got to turn the channel from 2 guys blowing each other, to 2 guys beating the shit out of each other.
At least, until Tyson did the unspeakable and bit Hollyfield's ear off, forever making boxing history.
After the abrupt ending of the fight, the party kinda broke up, so we headed to a local bar and played pool till the wee hours of the morning, still with this other couple in tow.
At about 3A.M., they announced that they were headed home, and since it was so late and getting a train back to Long Island would be difficult, they asked us to crash at their apartment nearby.
So, we got to their loft, and they offered us a bed, right next to their bed. I was getting an odd vibe from the whole thing, but i figured now was not the time to question anything. We got into our bed, and they got into theirs. Within 10 minutes, these two people start banging like bunnies right in front of me.
Lets just say that after that, it got weird.
I woke up the next morning, to find Debbie still asleep and the other couple nowhere to be found. There was a note on the kitchen table that said, "Had to leave early. Help yourself to breakfast and leave the key with the doorman."
So, i made us some pancakes, and while we ate breakfast, i finally asked Debbie how she knew this other couple that was trusting us with their home.
"Them? I really don't know them at all. I met them last week at a concert near Woodstock."
"Wait, what? You don't know them? I thought they were lifelong friends!"
"Nope. I honestly don't even remember their names."
After picking my jaw up off the floor, we quietly finished our breakfasts, and headed home. My trip to the water park turned out to be a 35 hour date.
I dated Debbie for about 6 months, and while we had many zany, seat-of-your-pants adventures, nothing ever again could top that crazy, CRAZY first date.
It was a damn fun 6 months, to be sure.
So, how about you, folks? What was your wackiest date?
I've talked before about how i was a little tyke during the 70's.
Being a kid around that time, of course i had a G.I. Joe doll.
And I'm not talking about one of those lame-ass NEW G.I.Joe's, either. NOWADAYS, there is no "G.I. Joe". Rather, G.I. Joe is the name of some super team of asshats who go around fighting some OTHER team of asshats called COBRA.
No, i'm talking about the REAL, ORIGINAL G.I. Joe.
They made SO many versions of Joe back in the day. You weren't cool unless you had more than one.
I had an original G.I. Joe.
I had the famous Joe with "Kung-Fu Grip"
I had a Joe that you could press a button on his back and he would make a karate chop.
But i NEVER....
Never did i have a G.I. Joe that had real pubic hair on its head.
No, this is most definitely NOT a post about Pink Floyd, despite the title and banner pic.
That was just my incredibly adept attempt to amuse you, since the rest of this post is boring as shit.
Specifically, has anyone been having trouble getting to this site lately?
A few years back, either my hosting company, or Blogger (or Hell, maybe it was both! Conspiracy, baby!) decided to screw with my DNS and, based on where you were in the world, some people were unable to get to my site. After countless phone calls and denials on their parts, after about a month, everything magically started working again.
Well, the interwebs might once again be fucking with me, because i think it may be happening again.
For the past 2 weeks, sometimes i again get a DNS error trying to get to Slydesblog. It seems to happen for an hour or so each day, and then magically clears itself up.
I had thought it was just my company's access to the Internet that was causing the trouble, since they block EVERYTHING here and i generally cant see Jack Shit from work.
But then last week i received a note from someone saying that they too were having trouble accessing my site.
So now, my friends, my dander is up.
I just need to know if anyone else is having any issues, or is this merely the case of TWO people who work for companies with shitty Internet access?
So, if you cant get to my site, then you cant be reading this, can you? In which case, I'm talking to myself. That CAN'T be good for my ego, or fragile mental state.
But, if you are reading this through your feed reader but can't actually get here to comment, can you please do me a solid and send me a quick email at apedone (at) optonline (dot) net?
As a way of thanks, i promise to fully service each one of you who helps me troubleshoot.
One of the unfortunate side effects of being a hot blooded Sicilian is that i love spicy food.
I mean REALLY spicy. I LOVE LOVE LOVE to put hot sauce on my meals. The hotter, the better. In the past year or so, I've kinda taken my obsession to the next level, buying all sorts of exotic sauces that each promise "XXX Hot Flavor!"
I've also gotten more liberal with the foods i pour it on. In the beginning, i would reserve my hot sauce collection for nights when we ate taco's, or chili... that sort of stuff.
But, as time as marched on, I've begun experimenting. No, not THAT kind of experimenting... i got THAT out of my system by my Junior year of college.
I'm talking about experimenting with pouring my hot sauce on other culinary treats. At first, I'd put it on steak, or burgers. Then, i started putting it on my mash potatoes, or stuffing. It's now gotten to the point where, before i eat anything, i at least CONSIDER the idea of how gross it might be to put hot sauce on it.
Now, you might think that this fetish of mine is no big deal, but it is in fact causing me a huge problem.
The problem, you see, is with Friz.
Friz, is an awesome cook. I have to give it to the gal. But, where the kitchen is concerned, she has one fatal flaw.... she is SUCH a perfectionist in the kitchen, that she considers it an insult to her cooking when i put hot sauce on things that she thinks should be "Hot Sauce Free".
At first, it was funny to watch her get all pissed off when i dabbed some hot sauce on her pork chops, but as time has gone on and I've gotten more and more adventurous with where i spew my sauce, she has been getting genuinely pissed off at me. It's been making meal time especially stressful.
I wanted to paint you all an accurate portrait of what's been going on in the Slyde household at dinnertime, so i hired a professional sketch artist to observe us at dinner and draw an exact portrayal of one of our typical dinners.
Ladies and Gentlemen of the blogosphere, i present to you now that completely realistic portrait:
As you can see, the artist captured PERFECTLY how happy it makes me to put hot sauce on my meal. You can also see the nasty stink-eye that Friz is giving me for "ruining" her meal.
So, what say you, peeps?
Should i continue to enjoy my meals as i see fit, or should i bite the bullet and enjoy my meal a little less just to make the poor gal happy?
P.S. I'm not sure if you can glean it from the photo above, but i have an incredibly large dong.....
Even though i was around for the 70's, i was a wee little tyke, so maybe i missed a key trend from that era.
I KNOW that we dealt with Watergate, and Vietnam.
I KNOW that it was the tail end of free-love and hippy power and the Age of Aquarius, and all that....
But what i DON'T remember is that apparently the 70's were a time when toy makers thought it might be fun to scare the LIVING SHIT out of kids!
That's the only answer i can think of that makes sense for the creation of the Baby Secret doll.
I mean, i am now a grown-ass man and this doll scares the crap outta me! There is NO FUCKING WAY that some 70's ad man checked out this commercial and said "Yeah, this is good! Kids all over the world will feel happy and safe having this little fucker in their homes!"
I think tonight i'll be sleeping with my nightlight on.....