Celebrity Endorsement

A friend of the site who does not type very well contacted me and wished to post an audio comment for me. Thanks, Carl.

Have a Great Weekend, Everyone!!!!

The Numbers Game

I have never put too much stock in Numerology, but sometimes I am intrigued by how certain sequences of numbers pop up. Recently a friend and co-worker informed me that in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, the time was 01:02:03 of 04/05/06 and this sequence of military time would not be repeated for a thousand years.

Another curious set of numbers have some contemplating the end of the world. There are those individuals who believe the end of days will start on June 6, 2006 when the calendar will read 06/06/06. On that date they believe that the Anti-Christ will announce his coming.

Stay tuned here for further announcements down the road and have a nice day.

BvB: Reflections Hard and Soft

This week over at Beauty vs The Beast, Mimi and Metal Mark tackle the subject of the ongoing court case which has become known as Roe v Wade for Men. They both did a great job and while my opinion is slightly different, I certainly respect their opinions and their arguments were good.

I rarely tackle political or legal subjects here but the pregnancy angle of the story reminded me of a subject that I wrote of in the early days of this blog. (It seems strange to speak of the early days of my blog, when I haven't even reached my blogaversary. But blog time is strange.) So, here is my old post but a word of caution; I am at my crudest and least politically correct on this archived post.

Gut Check

I blame it on Demi Moore who posed for Vanity Fair with her nude pregnant gut. Now we have Britney Spears-Federline splashed all over the net, bikini clad and ready to pop. And it is not only celebrities recently my wife and I were getting a bite to eat at a bar and grill and one waitress was wearing a midriff top, hiphugger jeans, and a pregnant gut with a belly button ring that resembled an all done button on a Butterball Turkey. A friend at the office explained that she had a similar waitress this weekend on a trip to Santa Fe. It's not that pregnancy makes me nervous. It is only a consequence of a natural act but if this result is showcased what is next people flashing genital warts and herpes. Call me old fashioned but the only time a woman should be showing off her pregnant gut is when she is dancing at a nudie girl biker bar plopped down somewhere in the rotation between the toothless chick and the elderly lesbian who's stripping for the annual Tits for Tots charity drive.


Since this story came out I have softened a bit on the subject. My middle step-daughter is due to give birth soon and the thought of being a grandfather has perhaps softened me a bit. I was to late though to get her this gift when she first announced her pregnancy.

The Hunt: Episode Three - Truths Revealed

As the sound of clanging metal, the blast of gunfire, and the roar of an unnatural beast shattered the stillness of the night, Phred, Cleveland and I rushed to the sound of the Bigfoot attack. When we arrived, Big D and Crazy Dan were being tossed around like rag dolls by three of the largest mangiest beasts that I have ever seen. Not waiting for the others behind me, I launched myself for the attack. Just as I reached the foul smelling beasts, the entire area was bathed in an eery green light and a strange throbbing hum vibrated me to my very bone.

The Bigfoots covered their ears and howled in pain then ran through the brush. I turned around and Phred and Cleveland were staring up into the night sky with a wondrous look of awe on their face. As I turned to look at the direction of their gaze, I saw a strange craft in the night sky. It looked almost like an old camper trailer but it seemed to me that the thing was held together by duct tape and a prayer. Just as I mused on the bravery that it must take to ride in such a rust bucket, a shaft of light shot out of the craft. I felt as if a cat had walked across my grave and every hair on my back stood upon end and then all was dark.

When I regained my senses, I realized that I had been transported to the alien craft. I looked around and it appeared that I was the only member of the hunting party to be transported to the alien craft. I was alone in the midst of various extraterriestrial creatures. Some appeared alien much like the classic vision of aliens in popular culture but there was one creature that appeared human and seemed to be the leader of the group. He walked up to me and said, " Fuzz, I'm yo Daddy." I could not run and was too shocked to fight, so I sat and waited for an explanation.

The alien explained to me that in 1965, while on a routine scouting mission from the planet Yonder with his mate and infant son, his ship experienced craft trouble. ( I could not doubt the idea of craft trouble. If this was the same craft. I don't know how he got it out of the garage, much less travel through space.) He repaired the craft to the best of his ability but was afraid of being able to complete the return journey. Both him and his mate were concerned for the safety of their infant son. Since their appearance was a duplicate of human they waited by the side of the road waiting for a car to come along and offer assistance. A young couple came along down Highway 82. The aliens took the young couple into their confidence and they agreed to care for the child as their own until the aliens could return if they were able.

The alien then explained that due to various complacations he had not been able to return for quite some time. He had been on various search missions to find me but his ship had never before regestered my genetic markers. He then seemed animated as he hugged me and told me that I could now go home. He then paused awaiting my response.

While letting the whole story soak into my brain, I asked the alien where my friends were. He replied that they were being prepped for anal probing. I told him to stop. These were my friends and should not be subjected to any sort of probing, particularly of the anal variety. The creature, who claimed to be my father, then instructed one of the strange looking extraterrestrials to go and halt all examinations of the humans.

After only a few more seconds, the impact of his speech hit me in full force and I formulated my response. "I have always known that I was a bit out there so I guess it isn't a complete shocker to be from out there. But this is my home and here I must stay." , I replied.

The alien, who told me his name was Slix Bob 69, appeared saddened but then told me that I must learn of my heritage. He took me to what appeared to be a computer monitor and affixed various wires to my head. It was just like in 'The Matrix', images pored into my brain and soon I knew the entire history of the planet of my birth ( actually I was born on a moon of the planet Yonder, known as OverYonder.). I learned of my father and mother and the sacrifice that they had made to ensure my safety.

The aliens then transported us back to our campsite. I told the others of what had happened to me. They did not appear to doubt me. I suppose that they had seen enough strange things this night, that this seemed believable. We then turned our attentions back to the chupacabras but they were gone. In their place were only the tracks of theiving Bigfoots.

The hunting trip was over. We went our seperate ways for we had a lot to think about. The world is indeed a strange place. I noticed that Phred walked with a slight gimp while heading to his truck. I asked him what happened. When he turned around, I could see the answer in his eyes. Sorry I didn't speak up sooner, my friend.

The End. For now.......

The Authorized Version.

The Hunt: Episode Two - From The Jaws of Victory

When we arrived back at camp, the gang were tired and hungry. The only other member of the hunt to bring any sort of foodstuff was Phred, who had brought a case of vending machine goodies topheavy on the granola bar side of the food pyramid. Crazy Dan immediately harassed Phred over his choice of victuals. He launched his assault, "Damn Phred Phucker granola bars aren't food. That shit is what you put out to bait squirrels." Sensing an escalation in hostilities, I retrieved the sandwiches that Angry Joyce had packed for us. I was scared to eat them myself for Angry Joyce's last words to me were, ' Here's your damned sandwiches. I have been up since the crack of noon making them. Hope you and those morons enjoy.'

I offered the guys the sandwiches and grabbed a granola bar saying that I wasn't really all that hungry and a granola bar was all that I needed. When the guys opened the bag, I was happy that Phred had brought the vending machine grub. I do not know where Angry Joyce was able to find the culinary delights served up by 'Fear Factor' but she really had outdone herself ( I am going to have to ask her where she found a banana slug on such short notice.) As Cleveland, Phred, and Crazy Dan were staring at their sandwiches with a look of horror and shock, Big D was putting those sandwiches away like a starving man at an all you can eat T-Bone Steak Buffet. After Big D had finished his fill of 'Fear Factor' sandwiches, and the rest of us had consumed a portion of the vending machine goodies, we all tucked in for a days rest.

When we awoke and drank a bit of cowboy coffee and snacked on a few granola bars, I told them of my plan. " The problem last night was that we were just situated in the wrong spots, " I said. We then reformulated our set up. Crazy Dan and Phred would guard the entrance to the canyon. This would alleviate Crazy Dan of the temptation of the goats and he could also keep a close eye on Phred in case any deer in the area mistook him for a doe in heat. Cleveland would keep an eye out on top of the canyon. This would save him from being shot in the ass if he had another attack of loose bowels. Big D and I would sneak in amongst the goats and bag the chupacabras when they attacked.

The plan was working perfectly. Eventhough we had been waiting patiently for hours, there was none of the hi-jinks of the night before. As the moon broke between the clouds, Big D and I spotted two chupacabras hopping through the brush. We waited until we saw the whites of their eyes through the moonlight and attacked. I was able to get off a clean shot from the PS-52 laser slingshot. One of the chupacabras was knocked flat out. Big D rushed the other one in a surprise attack and completely beheaded the beast with the replica sword of Anduril.

Victory was ours as we had managed to kill one chupacabra to roast over the campfire and had one live chupa to give over to scientists for a nominal fee. The rest of the A-Team rushed over and we rejoiced greatly in our victory making our way back to the camp.

We tied the live chupacabra to a mesquite tree and when he came to you have never seen such a damned racket in your life. They are vicious little beasties, have no doubt. Phred and I proceeded to gut and clean the other chupacabra as Crazy Dan and Big D went to stoke up the campfire. Cleveland ran to his tent and produced a bottle of hot sauce that he had brought especially for the wings.

Just as we finished cleaning the Chupa, I heard those vocalizations again. I stared a hole through Cleveland but he immediately stated that he had set his cell phone to vibrate. No sooner had the words escaped his mouth, when a mighty roar erupted and the sounds of clanging metal and the blast of gunfire shattered the silence of the night. The smell of the blood of the chupacabra must have aroused the BigFoots and we were under attack.

To be continued.....

The Authorized Version.

The Hunt: Episode One - The Hunt Is On

Friday after all of the A-Team were off work. We gathered up and went to 'Tips Liquor Store, Grocery, and Adult Supercenter' for last minute supplies. Big D had already stocked up on his supply of Jim Beam, but Phred needed Gin, Cleveland needed various and sundry exotic ales and brews, I needed Cuervo along with a cooler full of Bud, Crazy Dan isn't finicky about liquor but we had to drag him out of the adult supercenter aisle. (He was a bit pissed as we told him we didn't have time for him to pick out the perfect inflatable party sheep.)

We arrived at the Goat Ranch well before dark and set up our campsite far from the goat herd. After quickly pitching our tents, we sat around and proceeded to discuss our plans while drinking from our stores of liquid courage. The goat herd was situated in a box canyon with only one entry. I thought that this would fall into our hands perfectly. With only one way in and one way out the chupacabras would have to use this corridor. Although the sighting of the chupacabra was reported to have wings, he was not seen to be flying. I hypothesized that maybe it was like a turkey or a quail and could not fly long distances or was loathe to fly and would only do so as a last resort.

We decided that Phred should take up point at the top of the box canyon as he had brought his deer rifle with a high powered scope. If the chupacabras attempted to escape by flying out of the canyon then he would be ready to bring them down when they reached the top. Big D with his collection of Lord of the Ring replica weapons and Cleveland with a sawed off shotgun would position themselves on either side of the entrance to the canyon. This was for two reasons if they had a chance at a good shot or stab at a chupacabra, they would be in a good position and if any Bigfoots (or as they are known here, Dickens County Treehuggers) tried to get in on the action then they could pounce on them. Crazy Dan, armed with a .357 and I , with my PS-52 laser slingshot, would sneak in amongst the goats and be right there should a chupacabra attack.

Come nightfall, we positioned ourselves for the hunt. We were well fortified with liquid courage and eager for action. Crazy Dan and I blended in with the goats and waited. Even with all the cautions for complete silence, Dan was driving me crazy rating the individual goats as if they were potential hookups at a singles bar. Just as boredom started setting in, a strange noise came from a pocket of cedar trees, the noise sounded strangely familiar and I knew that it must be the vocalizations of a Bigfoot, I wheeled around and through my night vision goggles I saw a large ugly hairy face staring towards me with a hideous brown eye. I took quick aim with my PS-52 laser powered slingshot and let fly. I knew that I hit my mark when I heard a blood curdling scream but was surprised when the screaming turned to cursing. I walked over to the creature and discovered that the vocalizations were the ring tones from Cleveland's cell phone and at the time he received his call, he was doing what came naturally to bears in the woods. As he rubbed his ass in pain from the slingshot ball, I apologized and cautioned him to set his phone to vibrate.

Just as Cleveland and I repositioned ourselves a terrible racket issued from the top of the canyon. I feared for Phred's safety so Big D and I rushed up the canyon to see what was going on. When we reached Phred he was on all fours being attacked by a Whitetail Buck. Big D chased it off with a sword and I went to see if Phred was hurt. I asked him why a damn deer had attacked him. He replied, " I was worried about the scent of human chasing away the chupacabras and so I rubbed deer lure comprised of doe in heat urine on myself." It was just his bad fortune to be attacked by a horny buck. The buck had come out of nowhere and knocked him down and separated him from his weapon. He was extremely fortunate. If Big D and I had not gotten there in time and if not for the tough denim of his Wrangler jeans, Phred would have been anally probed and we hadn't even seen any aliens.

After we had calmed Phred down, Big D and I climbed back down the canyon and repositioned ourselves once more. Nothing more happened that night. I suppose all of the commotion from the incidents of the night scared away all beasts whether natural or unnatural. We headed back to camp. The A-Team was dejected but I had no fears for success Saturday night for I had the will, the firepower, and a new plan. Success would be guarenteed.

To be continued......

The Authorized Version.

Putting Together An A-Team

The weekend is fast approaching and soon it will be time for a hunt of legendary proportions. After a bit of research, a have discovered that not only will I have to worry about chupacabras, but there is the possibility of having to deal with Bigfoots, and possibly hostile extraterrestrial beings. (Click here, here, and here for a little background.)

After this research, I decided that if I were to go it alone, then there was a great chance of me biting off more than I could chew. Therefore I decided that I must build an elite team of hunters, men both bold and brave, men that would fear nothing, men ready to take on the strange and unnatural, and men who could pony up and help split their liquor store bill. I have enlisted the help of my friends, the phearless Phred, the cunning Cleveland, and my brothers Big D the Bold, and the crafty Crazy Dan.

This week I have also been busy putting the final touches on outfitting the group with a dazzling array of sophisticated technology including night vision goggles, and high-tech listening devices. Since we are all honest to God rednecks we are all packing heat of our own but I decided to order this sophisticated weapon to aid in our hunt. Angry Joyce insisted on packing us sandwiches just in case the hunt did not go as planned, for as she said, "Y'all are going to spend more time getting drunk than actually hunting and I would hate to see those guys starve on your crazy-assed wild goose chase." Oh, she will eat her words as I come home with the carcasses of chupacabras and Bigfoots and receive the glory of taking aliens hostage to the fanfare of the masses.

So wish us well and wish us luck. Today we may be simple rednecks but tomorrow we may be heroes or heroic corpses. We fear neither man nor beast nor things that go bump in the night but I do fear for our livers.

Spinning Yarns

I have an admission to make. I am not a dwarf in real life and my given name is not :P Fuzzbox. This is not the time to get into how I came up with my user name and persona here on this blog.

To the best of my recollection beyond those two things, I have never produced a work of complete fiction here as of yet. Sometimes I might stretch things a bit for my attempt at comic relief. But for the most part everything that I have written up to this point is an honest portrayal of who I am and what I've seen, and how I feel.

There may come a time when a story might fall into my lap that is just too good to pass up. In fact, one just has. So be prepared for me to spin a yarn in the very near future. I hope that I can give justice to the craft of fiction.

Green Eyes and myself are tackling the subject of online liars, fabricaters, and embellishers on Beauty vs. The Beast. Green Eyes did an excellent job and I hope that you can go and give it a read.

Talking To MY Muse

Sometimes the muses sing to me with a voice to loud to ignore and sometimes I strain to hear their voice only to hear the weight of their silence bearing down upon me.

Today is one of those days when Thalia has deserted me. I can only hope for her quick return.

So for now here is a quick joke to tide everyone over while the muse of comedy takes a quick break.

A little boy and a little girl start to school together. Every day they sit and have lunch together and every day they both eat a chicken salad sandwich. One day the little girl brings a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The little boy asks her if she stopped liking chicken salad sandwiches. She replied, " No, I still like them but I have to stop eating them because I am starting to grow feathers." The little boy asks her if he can see. She agrees to show him on the playground at recess. At recess, they go behind the bushes and the little girl raises her skirt and drops her panties. The little boy tells her, " You are growing feathers. You probably stopped eating chicken salad sandwiches just in time."

Soon the little boy brings a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to lunch. The little girl asks if he has stopped liking chicken salad sandwiches. He replies that he still likes them but that he has started to grow feathers himself. She asks, " Let me see them." He agrees to show them to her on the playground at recess. At recess, they go behind the bushes and he drops his pants and undies. The little girl looks up at him in shock and tells him, "You're too late. You have already grown the neck and a couple of gizzards."

This was one of my father-in-law's favorite jokes. In today's society, this joke could never happen. Either the little girl or the little boy would be busted for sexual harassment.

Crunch Time/ Update on Chupacabra

I like infomercials. It is an affliction I suppose. I never buy the crap that they are shelling out. For me, they are simple mindless entertainment of a special kind that allows me to turn off the stresses of the day. The thing that amazes me the most about them is how they can find such a plethora of down on their luck actors. How these actors can sit there and smile gracefully while stooping so low is a wonder in and of itself.

My favorite infomercial came out about 10 years ago and featured a barbeque grill that ran off newspaper. This is the most tempted that I have ever been to actually buy some of their crap. I caught myself reaching for the phone on countless occasions but alas I never bought one. It is kind of sad thinking that I will never know the taste of a brisket flavored with the news of the day.

Last night while watching a little boob tube, I came across an infomercial for Cross Crunch. It is a ab exercising device that can be yours for only two payments of $29.99, but wait they will make one payment for you. So it can be yours for under 30 bucks plus shipping and handling but wait. They will also send you another Cross Crunch for free, if you call in the next thirty seconds.

Why do you need two? You can use only one at a time. Maybe you could send one to a family member or friend. Nothing says 'Luv ya fatass" like the gift of exercise equipment. If I wait long enough, I might be able to pick up a couple at Walgreen's. They have a whole aisle dedicated to 'Seen on TV' crap. Can't wait to spread some of that 'Luv ya FatAss' luv come Christmastime. But knowing my luck, I will receive this damn thing come Christmastime. It will be added to my collection of received Info-crap, which includes a onion blossom maker, a deer whistle, a coin sorter, and heated socks. And no Crazy Dan, these are not gift ideas.

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Update on Chupacabra Story

For the actual report of the Chupacabra incident in my Sunday Posting. Click Here. It is about midway down the page and is titled, 'Flesh Colored Creature Spotted Near Dickens, Texas---Chupacabra.' Be sure and click on the Bigfoot spotted in Dickens County link at the start of this story while over there. My hunting trip is going to kick ass this weekend. Hell who knows I might even be able to set up guided hunts. I am soo freakin' stoked!!!

As a little background into the story this is the same woman that reported seeing a UFO land in the yard of the correctional facility a few years back when she was working the tower as a night shift guard. So she is a certified UFO watcher or some other type of certifacation.

Blugstuff Revisited

I have been rather busy this week so this post is a rerun. It is from the very early archives of Blugstuff. Back then I had a readership of about five and they were friends and family. It was also before Big D had built me this template so I was using a standard template that was as bland as boiled chicken. So without further fanfare here is my ode to the sickness that is my brain.

Adult ADD and The Sex Pistols

Yesterday I was watching Fuse, which for the cable impaired, is a video music channel that actually shows video, when they started playing The Sex Pistols. Although I have never been a big fan of their music I figured that I would give it a listen. When the singer described his girlfriend having a leather vagina my Adult ADD kicked in. What did he mean by a leather vagina? Was it like suede or was it like naugahide? Would your penis stick to it like your thighs to a carseat on a hot summers day? Would it contrary to all laws of physiology shrink when wet? Would a cheap slut have a vinyl vagina? Would Vinyl Vagina be a good name for a rock group? How about :P Fuzzbox and The Vinyl Vaginas? By the time all this went through my head the song was over and I still have no clue as to what he actually meant by a leather vagina. Damn my Adult ADD!!! Now I have a deeper respect for the Sex Pistols. Anyone who can come up with such a descriptive term that can cause such ideas to flow from the mind is tops in my book.

If you have read this far then thanks for putting up with a reposting of this little bit of sickness. The post is just as bad as I remember. Maybe I should publish a blook, I already have a working title, " Worst Of The Worst Of That Phucker Fuzz, or Things To Read After Masterbating In The Bathroom."

Goin' Huntin'

Friday night while working the night shift, I worked with an employee who is possibly the most gullible human being that I have ever known. It helps that he is not the sharpest tack in the posterboard but his gullibility stretches beyond even that excuse. He came up to me during the night and told me that I need to be careful while driving to work on the route that I must take. He was told that someone had reported having seen and attacked by a chupacabra.

I gave him my best blank stare and asked just what he had heard. He replied that a nine year old girl and her mother were traveling down this road and spotted a chupacabra sitting on a fencepost. As they passed it, the chupacabra jumped from the fencepost and chased the vehicle. I told him that I was sure that the whole chupacabra thing was bunk and even if there was such a thing that they have never been reported to be this far north.

Now I am not so sure. I suppose that there are strange and unexplained things in the world. Furthermore if some inbred redneck is going to be the first to actually bag a real life chupacabra then it might as well be me. ( In defence of my family, I should clarify my family tree does fork but I am a redneck.) So next weekend I am going hunting for a chupacabra.

I haven't decided on the best route to take on this little venture. At first I was thinking of staking out a place alongside of a bunch of goats at a goat ranch located along this road and disguise myself as a goat. I started thinking that this might not be the best of ideas as some drunk redneck with a goat fetish might come along and I would become entangled in my goat suit. Then I would be literally and figuratively fucked. But I have all week to plan my attack so any chupacabra in the area better watch their ass.

I am also questioning what caliber weapon it would take to bring one down. I have seen these things in a movie and damn do they look tough. I would need a large enough caliber to bring him down without damaging the meat. My dad always told me that whatever critter you killed, you better be prepared to eat it as killing should be reserved for food purposes. Although killing an occasional varmit such as a coyote is perfectly acceptable. But as chupacabra's are probably considered an endangered animal, I had better be prepared to fire up the grill and donate his bones and innards for scientific study.

Wish me luck folks. Maybe I should give The Phoenix a holler as he is more versed in these sort of things than I am. Then again his experience is with Bigfoots and I would imagine that Bigfoots probably aren't near as fierce as chupacabras. I have seen "Harry and The Henderson's" and frankly I thought Harry the Bigfoot was a big puss.

Trapped In A Man's Body

As you can tell by the pics that I post and my template in general, I love the ladies. I have always been comfortable around the fairer sex. I love the way they walk. I love the way they talk. I love the way they move. I love the warm smiles and the wicked grins. I love the sultry come hither glances and I love the fire in their eyes. Although I found the woman of my dreams and no longer shopping around, I would be the basest of liars if I said that I don't like to window shop. It's not like I am shopping for keeps or even going out for a test drive. I am just appreciating what's out there.

On our first date, Angry Joyce asked me if I was married, single, divorced, gay, or what. I simply responded that I was a lesbian trapped in a man's body. Although we both got a laugh out of my response, there is a nugget of truth in what I said. One of my favorite things to do on a Friday night was to hang out sitting in a barstool at P.J. Belly's Blues Bar knocking down Crown and Cokes and listening to some mighty fine blues. On many occasions the Cliff to my Norm was a gorgeous lesbian that I will for anonymity sake call Butch. (She would get a kick out of that as she is one of the most feminine women, in appearance, that I have ever known.)

Butch and I would sit back talk about our jobs, our sex lives, news of the day, and life in general. One of our favorite activities was to keep a close eye on the front door and discuss the attributes of the women that walked through the front door. I suppose it must seem a little strange for a man and a woman to be talking about this subject. We weren't looking to score with any of the ladies walking through those doors. We were both of the opinion that we loved this bar and did not want to ruin our good times by having to dodge someone that we might have hooked up with there.

Shortly before I met Angry Joyce, P.J. Bellies shut down and I lost track of Butch. But every once in a while when I see a certain type of good looking woman, I think of how Butch would really appreciate the way she looked.

If you are wondering what led me to relate this little tale, it is a shameless plug for Beauty vs. The Beast. The topic this time around is 'What are the three most endearing qualities in the opposite sex.' Cissa Fireheart and Phred take on the task this time around. I think that you will enjoy the way that they tackled the subject. I know that I did.

Goin' Soft

The local phone company where I get my internet access also offers TV. They have a lot of channels and give a good discount for using their phone service, internet service, and TV together as a package. There is one channel that I currently receive from my satellite dish that the phone company does not offer. I have been told that since Jesus is in their system then their is no room for Cinemax or as I lovingly refer to it; Skinamax.

I do not fault them for this decision. If they do not want to offer a particular channel for whatever reason then they should have the right not to. Other cable operators and satellite services are there to take up the slack in a free market economy. Just do not expect me to buy it. It is not often that I watch soft core porn on Skinamax but it is comforting to me to know that anytime I do want to watch it then it is no more than a click away on my remote control.

Here are three things that make Skinamax movies worth watching.

3) The cheesy soundtracks. Where do they find the people who write the songs that are a perfect accompaniment to simulated sex acts. Maybe they have special courses in music schools teaching the ins and outs of this unique art form.

2) Sometimes a person just wants to watch mindless entertainment with lots of gratuitous nudity. Sometimes I really don't want to watch the next coming of 'Citizen Kane'. My mind is frequently numbed to the point that I don't want to think about anything. When that happens it is nice to know that 'The Bikini Carwash Company' is there to the rescue.

1) Are they real or are they fake? I like to play a little game while watching Skinamax movies. When I first see the actresses clothed, I like to guess if their breasts are natural or if they are augmented. I am right a good deal of the time but there are always those times that surprise me and I love a good surprise.

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I sincerely hope that the phone company has room for both Jesus and me on the internet or I will be in trouble.

Stretched Thin

Much like the old song says, 'Work your fingers to the bone you know what you get. Bony Fingers, Bony Fingers.' Here is a list of my punch ins and punch outs at work so far this week.

In - Out

March 20, 2006 7:45 a.m. - 12:30 p.m.
1:00 p.m. - 5:15 p.m.
11:30 p.m. - March 21 , 2006 1:00 p.m.
1:30 p.m. - 3:30 p.m.
8:00 p.m. - March 22, 2006 4:00 a.m.

I will be there when I get there this morning. Manager by day, Floor Supervisor by night. How does Bruce Wayne do it?Sleep deprivation is kicking my ass.

My Perfect Grocery List ( Or Why Angry Joyce Doesn't Let Me Shop Alone)

Breakfast Items
Cheerios
One pound of Bacon
Bag of Fun Size Snickers
Thirty Pack of Budweiser

Lunch Items
One Pound of Bologna
One Loaf of Wonder Bread
One Giant Size Bag Of Skittles
Six Pack of Olde English 800

Mid-Day Snack Items
Microwave Popcorn - Extra Butter
Large Bag of Beef Jerky
Bottle of Jack Daniels
Kool Aid - Assorted Flavors

Dinner Items
Frozen Pizza
Steak
Taters
Cardboard Kegger of Sparkling Muskatel - The premiere Wine of Idaho

Sexual Supplies
Large Bottle of Wesson Oil
30 gallon trashbags
One can of Redi-Whip
One bottle of Hershey's chocolate Syrup
One case of Boones Farm Strawberry Hill
Clothes Pins

Now I am wondering one thing. Who will be the first to correctly guess the West Texas sexual activity involving 30 gallon trashbags? For all those wondering about the pic, The pig is the Piggly Wiggly Supermarket mascot.

One Last Night And The Morning After

I know that it may be hard to imagine, but I was not always the sensitive, clean thinking and clean living poster child for political correctness that you have come to know ;)

Years ago on my last night of bachelorhood, my bachelor party was held at a Gentleman's Club. My friends took me out for one last time as a free man to the one place on earth where a man can glory in the excesses of being a man. There I went through the age old rite of passage known as the hay ride. For those not familiar with this event or might call it a different name, let me explain what a hay ride entails. I was led to the stage and my shirt removed, then I was seated in a chair and told to sit on my hands. After this was accomplished, six gorgeous strippers proceeded to give me a lapdance to remember for a lifetime. While distracted by the other dancers, each of them took turns writing upon my torso such gems as Eat me raw, Ride me hard, Fuck me like an animal, and Sasha was here. Upon arriving home, my bride-to-be (who was not in attendance for the festivities) led me to the darkened bedroom where we proceeded to spend a night of intense love making.

I awakened early and went to take shower and wash off the messages. The markings were done in black permanent marker but with the aid of Lava Soap and a lot of scrubbing, I had managed to remove all traces of these writings from my chest and abdomen. That is when my sweet bride-to-be entered the bathroom and climbed into the shower. For the first time, I witnessed the fury of the woman that I have come to know as Angry Joyce. She, not so tenderly, scrubbed all pornographic images from my back along with the first two layers of skin.

The wedding went along without a hitch but she has never let me forget just how big an ass that I am. She has also been handy about explaining to me on a moments notice just how thankful I should be for having such a sweet woman who would clean up my body from the filth that as a single man I wallowed in.

To find out what led me to relate this bit of personal trivia, head over to Siren's, Beauty vs. The Beast. While posting the responses of my bro, Big D and my lovely and multi-talented blogfriend Ranea, I was reminded of this story. I also made the mistake of mentioning it to Angry Joyce but no worries; I was able to dodge all of the heavier objects thrown my way. You would think that after nearly 11 years she would have got over it. But no such luck. So do yourself a favor and go check it out. They both did a great job and I would appreciate you letting them know what you think.

I would also like to express my appreciation to Big D for designing a new template in such a short time. I may be partial, since he built this template and he is my bro, but I think that Big D has built some of best templates out there. He also has a post up explaining his design concepts when building the template. I think that all his worries are unfounded. If you have any suggestions on the template please leave a comment on his post.

I'm Beastly

I have volunteered to keep Siren's, Beauty versus The Beast site up while she is on a break dealing with some personal issues. I am a big fan of the site and it would be a shame for this great idea to not continue.

I am currently seeking volunteers for guest posters on the site. If you are not familiar with the site, I would urge you to give it a read. The posts are filled with some great writing from numerous guest authors and it seems to bring out the best in each of them. If you would like to join the illustrious list of guest authors on the site, just click on my e-mail address on my sidebar. I would love to hear from you and I know that Siren would appreciate it.

I promise to do my best in cleaning up my act over there but around here you have no such luck on that score, so in the spirit of Beauty versus The Beast, here is a little point/counterpoint joke for the weekend.

A family is having dinner when the son asks his father how many different kind of boobies there are in the world. His father tells him 'There are three. In her 20's they're like melons, round and firm. In her 30's and 40's they're like pears, still nice but hanging a bit. In her 50's they're like onions, you see them and you cry.'

The daughter then asks the mother how many different kind of willies there are in the world. The mother smiles and says, 'There are three. In his 20's it is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his 30's and 40's it's like a birch flexible but reliable. After his 50's it is like a Christmas Tree. Dead from the root up, and the balls are just for decoration.'

Happy St. Patrick's

I have quite a bit of Scotch-Irish blood running through my veins but nothing like Angry Joyce. My wife is as Irish as her ancestors fresh off the boat. She has the fiery red hair and the temperament to match. She loves the holiday and is very proud of proclaiming her Irish heritage.

I have always had somewhat of a mixed bag of feelings regarding the holiday. I suppose it harkens back to my childhood. My mother is fond of recalling the story of my kindergarten year. I came home crying on St. Patrick's Day and asked her if I were a radish. She was perplexed by my question and asked me why I would ask if I were a radish. I explained to her that I was pinched all day and had got into several fights because people told me that I was a radish and radishes were supposed to wear green on St. Patrick's Day and I was not wearing any green.

I have since learned my lesson and always wear some green on St. Patty's Day and I also try to listen to pronunciations a little closer. So for God's sake people, if you have small children put some green on them today. As for the picture, as the Irish say, Pogue Mahon.

What I Would Do

If you were God or George 'Dubya' Bush and could pass any law or rule that you could; What would you do? I know exactly what I would do. In fact, I could write a list a mile long if I were able to enact any law or regulation that all citizens would have to follow to make this a more perfect society. So in order to keep this post as brief as possible, I will only give a few of 'Fuzz's Fundamental Code of Conduct: Road Rules.'

Before starting the list of a few rules, I thought that I would give a brief overview of my idea of punishment. I feel that punishment should not have been taken out of the public arena and placed out of sight behind bars. That not only took away a cheap form of entertainment but also took away a good way to encourage people to stay on the right side of the law. Therefore all punishments will be given in a public arena. A large whipping post will be erected in the parking lots of all Wal-Marts. Wal-Mart has grown in recent years to become the hub of all human existence so it would make a convenient location to get the greatest number of the viewing populace. In addition to public viewings of punishments, pictures should be taken of all proceeds and these pictures put on the containers of Happy Meals at McDonald's and on Kid's Meals at all fast food establishments in order to reach the youth and keep them on the right track.

Now on with the list:

1) If you cruise down the highway for over three miles with your blinker on giving the illusion of going around the world to the left then you will be taken to the whipping post and given twenty lashes.
2) If you bust your ass to cut someone off in traffic and then slow down to twenty miles below the speed limit then you will be tied to the whipping post and given a Tobasco enema.
3) If you knowingly steal a parking space from someone who has been waiting for some douchebag to pull out of a spot in a Wal-Mart parking lot then you will be tied to the whipping post and given a Brazilian Bikini Wax.
4) If you run a red light while yaking on a cell phone then you will be tied to the whipping post and have your butt cheeks superglued together and force fed ranch style beans and Hormel Chili until the pent up gas rips your superglued butt cheeks apart.
5) If you have the super bright Halogen Bulbs and insist on bright lighting oncoming traffic then you will be tied to the whipping post and given a cavity search by Shaquille O'Neal.
6) People that drive too slow in the fast lane will be tied to the whipping post and slathered in menstrual fluid.
7) People that have one of those 'My child is an Honor Student' bumper stickers on their car will be tied to the whipping post and forced to listen to the Local Elementary's School kazoo recital of 'Three Blind Mice' until their ears bleed.
8) People that speed up to maximum velocity and pass other motorists just so they can slam on their brakes and turn into a driveway will be tied to the whipping post and have their private parts attacked by angry squirrels.

If the violator has a Jesus Fish attached to their bumper then they will also receive a high colonic as such a hypocrite must also be full of shit and needs to be relieved of this extra burden.

If all the rules enforcers look like this officer then I will be easy to pick out on the highway. I will be the guy going around the world to the left.

Mail Day

Yes, it is that time again. Time for me to empty out the old e-mail box. I do not know why my co-workers, friends and family feel that I would be amused by the truly tasteless. I guess, they think I'm just cool like that. So today, I thought that I would share a small portion of off beat jokes that were sent to me in hopes that I would be offended and/or disgusted. Personally they just made me howl.

Remember that I did not make up these jokes. I am just passing them on because:
1) I don't have anything better to post.
2) I'm just tasteless that way.

WARNING: Each joke gets a little more tasteless. So don't say that I didn't warn you.
*********
It has been scientifically proven that if we drink one liter of water every day, at the end of the year we would have absorbed one kilo of E. Coli Bacteria found in water that contains feces. In other words, we are consuming one kilo of shit.

However, we do not run that risk by drinking rum, gin, whiskey, beer, wine, or any other liquors because alcohol has to go through a distillation process of boiling, filtering, and fermentation. It is my duty to communicate to all you people, who are drinking water, to stop doing so. It is unhealthy and bad for you. THEREFORE - It is better to drink alcohol and talk shit than to drink water and be full of it.
*********

A young guy calls in to work and tells his boss, ' Sorry boss, I can't come in to work today. My head aches, stomach is upset, and my leg's hurt.'

The boss tells him, 'I really need you today. When I am feeling like that, I just go to my wife and tell her to give me some sex and that makes everything better and I go to work.'

Two hours later the employee called in and said, 'Boss, I did what you said and I will be in soon... You have a nice house.'
************

You know that it is almost Summer when the girls start showing off their belly buttons.

Bettie

No other name is more synonymous with the American PinUp than Bettie Page. From The Girl Next Door to the Dominating Fetish Queen and everything in between, Bettie Page was the master of the classic pinup look. She is even more popular now than in the '50's when she posed in thousands of seductive pinup photos.

Her website, BettiePage.com, has received 588 million hits in the last five years. Now a feature film will be coming out in April. 'The Notorious Bettie Page' is being produced by HBO Films and will star Gretchen Mol as Bettie.

One question immediately came to my mind while watching the teaser trailer: How many people have put two and two together and pictured Bettie's soft, sexy, southern voice in all those sensuous photo's?

Goin' For Kinky

I am throwing my support for Governor of Texas to Kinky Friedman. I doubt very seriously that an independent can win the Governors office although it did work for Jesse Ventura up north.

It would be nice for someone with a sense of humor to win the office. After the administration of Rick Perry, the office desperately needs an infusion of humor. Rick Perry has all the humor of a Preperation H commericial.

Kinky Friedman is funny. His books and albums are a testament to his humor. Add to that his band is named 'The Texas Jewboys' and it sets the fact in stone. Although that is reason enough for me to support this candidate, something happened recently that pushed me over the edge in supporting this candidate. He takes being busted with humor and grace without any beating around the bush.

Saturday, in a Saint Patrick's Day Parade in Dallas, Kinky was caught openly breaking the states open container law. There he was riding in the parade with his trademark black hat on, a cigar in one hand, and a can of beer in the other. A spokeswoman for Friedman acknowledged that the candidate drank from a can of Guinness handed to him during the parade.

When asked point blank about the incident, Kinky didn't dodge the question or backtrack like a normal politician such as Tom DeLay, Dick Cheney, or Bill Clinton. He stood his ground and earned my deep respect. He simply stated, " Guinness is the drink that kept the Irish from taking over the world. It would be unthinkable not to have a Guinness during a St. Patrick's Day parade. In fact, it would be spiritually wrong."

If that isn't reason enough then anyone named Kinky is bound to get my vote just for his names sake. Hell, if he had a running mate named Perverted, they would probably get my vote for President and Vice-President.

A Simple Pleasure

Not a day went by last week where my mind did not wander back to one of those simple joys of yesteryear. In those long ago days, I did not consider it a simple joy. Now I see that it was. I suppose it was just the effects of the strong cough medicine that the doctor prescribed for me but towards mid-afternoon, I would feel my eyes grow weary and my sight grow dim, much like the old Eagles tune, and I wished that I had a comfortable place to rest my tired bones. I longed for a nap.

Some years ago, I read where the Japanese instituted a twenty minute power nap. Workers could enter a berth and for twenty minutes rest and recharge. This seems like a good idea, but I am of the opinion that twenty minutes for a nap is just long enough to piss me off. I would prefer a nap much like the Mexican siesta; a two hour snooze-fest during the heat of the day. That would recharge me.

One of my Dad's favorite sayings came on weekends after lunch when he would glance around and announce, 'Let's choose up sides and take a nap.' I always wondered as a child why he always chose Mom. Later in life, I came to understand the difference between a Nap and a nap. A one hour Nap every day after lunch would probably do much more in the way of recharging my batteries than any snooze-fest.

Mudstorm

The weather here in West Texas isn't always like the beautiful sunsets seen in Westerns. Yes sometimes the wind actually blows; if you can believe that. Wednesday night, we had a mud storm.

What is a mud storm you might ask? If you have never witnessed a good Texas mudstorm you have missed a treat. Fist it rains a bit, just enough to bead up water on cars, trucks, and buildings. Then the rain stops and the wind picks up to a good polite breeze; say about fifty mph or so. The wind is then able to sift down to the looser dirt and deposit it on the beaded water so that everything is coated in mud.

The mud storm is Mother Natures way of successfully drying up any moisture while still forcing you to wash your vehicle. My work truck is immune to this cruel trick of Mother Nature as it is kept together by a protective layer of dirt. The weatherman is predicting more mud storms this weekend so my truck should be tough as nails by Monday.

Here's to a great weekend everybody. Hope the weather suits you.

Sign Offs

A while back, I had a post regarding a signature, on e-mails, used by a lady from the corporate headquarters. After her signature, she signs off with, 'Have a blessed day.' I remarked that perhaps I did not want to have a blessed day maybe I wanted to have a day filled with debauchery and I did not particularly appreciate her remark.

In a game of Christian oneupmanship, a fellow employee at the site where I work now signs off after her signature, in e-mails, ' Make everyone you meet feel as if they have been kissed by an angel.' Again I must take issue with this statement. Sometimes when I first meet people, I do not want to feel as if I have kissed an angel. Sometimes I want to feel as if Satan's own daughter has smacked me on the ass and told me to shut up and take it like a man.

I think in order to get in on the game of Christian Oneupmanship, I will add a new signature phrase at the bottom of my e-mails at work. ' In case of Rapture, don't bother sending a reply. Just forward this e-mail along to the rest of your heathen buddies.'

Mixed Doubles

Nobody messed with your color settings on your computer. Kian and Remee are fraternal twin sisters. Kian was born black and Remee was born white. The parents of the girls are each of mixed race with both having a white mother and a black father. Geneticists have concluded that the odds of this type of birth occurring from this type of coupling are a million to one.

I would imagine that sociologists will be keeping a close eye on these little girls. It seems an excellent opportunity to study just what effect peoples view of race mold our personality and life from a young age.

For more on the story, here is a link to Snopes.com.


I am so proud of myself. Not once in the story did I stray from political correctness, and pose the question. Why didn't they name them after the R&B Group, 'Salt n Pepah.'

The Mask

Now that most of my at home online activities are spent in the pursuit of being a blog whore, I have very little time pursuing what a got broad band for in the first place; free porn. Yes, free porn and broadband internet are two terms that many find synonymous. Dial up just does not cut it for porn. The gradual bit by bit unmasking of the picture takes eons and don't even think about video. Waiting for video to download on dial up is worse than sitting through thirty minutes of commercials, while waiting for a movie to start up in a theatre.

I do not know why but lying sick and feverish in my bed Monday afternoon, I found my mind thinking about a site that I once was prone to browse through on occasion. The site featured normal guys wearing a mask and photographed and video-taped having sex with porn starlets. The site was free but for a nominal sum each month, you could become a member. Membership entitled one to have their name placed in the sweepstakes. If your name was randomly selected, then you could don the mask and be the next man to be on the site having sex from among a bevy of porn starlets. It was pornography's answer to reality T.V.'s, 'The bachelor', with a little bit of 'Beauty and The Geek' thrown in for good measure. Why this idea hasn't transcended to cable television is beyond me.

I could never personally become a member of this site and risk winning the sweepstakes. First of all, I am afraid that I would have a terrible case of stagefright. I don't even like to piss in the urinal of a crowded restroom. (I just hate embarrassing others ;) And secondly, Angry Joyce would do Lorena Bobbitt one better. Not only would she cut off my pecker but would stick it in the blender and make a cock milkshake. Lastly, and you can take this to the bank, if I am on video giving Jenna Jamison all that I got, I will want the whole wide world to see my face.

I know what your asking. Where's the link? Find it yourselves. I am responsible for no ones perversion except my own. Angry Joyce is firing up the damned blender already. I do not need anyone else pissed about this post.

Birth Control Baby

My daughter's homework assignment for home-ec was the care of one of those birth control babies for the weekend. The stated goal of this exercise was to teach teens that being a care giver to an infant isn't just fun and games with a cutesy little baby. I wager it is just teachers trying to get back at parents by sending home a noise making toy. It is not much different than the role of grandparents when they buy ear splitting, mind numbing toys and send them back to your house with the grandkids.

Saturday morning, she was complaining that the doll was supposed to be programmed to cry every four hours but that it had cried about every hour and a half. There are little keys that must be inserted to stop the doll from crying. One marked diaper change, one marked feeding, one marked burping, and one marked attention. She complained that no matter which keys she used sometimes the baby wouldn't stop crying. I told her that pretty much summed up a real baby. It wasn't all crying though for when it was content, the doll would softly coo.

Maybe this exercise does some good but I don't think that it goes far enough in being an effective deterrent to teenage pregnancy. So I have a list of improvements to the process.

1) Pre-Baby:

Having the cute little doll right off the bat eliminates an important lesson: Pregnancy Sucks. The teens should be made to wear an empathy belly at school for an entire six weeks grading period. During this phase of the exercise, they should be given fluid pills in the morning and forced to drink a dozen glasses of water. Points could be deducted for any accident.

During this phase, the teens should be hynotyzed into craving strange foods and food combinations. (Sardine Milkshake, anyone?) Points could be deducted for any excessive weight gain.

2) Birth Control Baby Updated:

The little keys are too easy. Sure they cry until you hit the right combinations of keys but what about the messy aftereffects of what the keys symbolize. The doll should be able to be fed some substance that will immediately start curdling as soon as it is ingested. That way when it is burped it will do anything from a light spotting of spit up to projectile hurling like the Exorcist Child. And you never know what it will be.

Diaper Changing by a little key is a big cop out. Whatever substance you feed in and doesn't come back up at you should be deposited in a diaper. Furthermore something inside the doll should chemically alter the odor of the diapers content. It should have a smell that would knock a maggot off of a gut wagon.

The volume is not near loud enough. (Which I am thankful for.) But nevertheless, it should be cranked up to the sound of a low-riding thumper car blasting rap music at four in the morning.

One weekend is not near long enough to understand the sleep deprivation that taking care of a new born. It takes at least a week for the bags under the eyes to set in. One week should be a sufficient time to understand how tired a person can get of hearing a baby cry all through the night. Especially if one out of every three birth control babies are programmed to have colic.


If all this doesn't teach them safe sex then they can watch my demon spawn for a week. That should cure them of sex altogether.

Feeling The Love

To put first things first, I want to thank everyone who came by and commented on my last post. I cannot begin to express how happy I am that you did. I had been feeling a lot of anger building inside myself. A vacation from work helped but more than that I needed to release my anger and start to feel my love for humanity return. I thank each and every one of you for helping me. I was fed hate and shit love. So let the ass kissing begin.

My darling wife, after ten years of trials and tribulations, I love you even more today than the day that we confessed our love for one another. Your humor, your warmth, and your beauty only grow day by day. I consider it the greatest gift to know that I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.

Vic, you are a courageous woman. I am thankful that I have found a friend here in the 'sphere with your strength. The glimpses of yourself that you have shown, paint a picture of a true classic. One of beauty and of wisdom; of warmth and of compassion; of love and of loyalty; of wit and of humor. I thank you for being you and for being here. You are a survivor and all around you are truly blessed by knowing you.

Ranea, with every post that you write, more and more of the real you comes shining through. A woman of biting wit and strong convictions. You truly have a thirst for life. It is infectious and I thank you for bringing that to my life. I have no doubt in my mind whatsoever, that your readership will only grow day by day.

Ann, thanks for making us laugh. Your bright smile and never say die attitude never fails to brighten my day. Your playful nature is only exceeded by your biting humor. I think you so much as it helps me to bring that side of me out in what I do.

Siren, How can I say enough about you? I am so very lucky to be able to call you a friend. You are one of the kindest souls that I have met here in the 'sphere. It never fails to encourage me every time that you comment. You possess a keen mind and a love of the world around you. You make me laugh and you make me see the world with a clearer view. I am a better person for that.

George W. Bush, Thanks for giving this nation one hell of a reason to laugh and bitch. Your antics show that you are not an idiot but have been using strategery. Sorry Laurie, I had to do that. I want to thank you for being one of my oldest blogfriends. I can remember a time when we were both starting out this blog thing together. We were both lucky to get three or four comments per post. You broke out but I never envied you and you never turned your back on me. Some of our initial friends are gone but I am so glad that you are still here. My love to you always.

Dinky the Taco Bell Chihuahua, Your tacos and beef and bean burritos bring a sweet aroma to the world around us. Thank you for a fast fix of flatulence. Sorry anelize, I cannot tell you in mere words how much it means to me when you come by. You make me feel good about myself and we all need that from time to time. I delight in your happiness and sympathize in your sorrows. Thank you for being a friend.

Jar Jar Binks, I think you for being one of the coolest toys ever offered with a kid's meal at Kentucky Fried Chicken. My son had untold hours of enjoyment winding you up on your lily pad and watching you kick your way around the tub.

Grocery store managers, I enjoyed the Snickers. Thanks so much for making it so handy. Sorry Rocky, you showed me that blogging wasn't just about throwing out a couple of risque comments on a post. Your skills with the written word compelled me to work on what little talent I possess. When I was young, I had delusions of becoming a writer but those dreams were long gone. Thank you for helping me realize that dreams never wholly die.

Jerry Falwell, Thank you so much for being the bastion of fascism. Without you and your self-serving cohorts taking Larry Flynt all the way to the Supreme Court then I and so many others might not have the right to say what we feel without threat of some douchebag suing us. Sorry, Bruce, You are a stable voice in a world of confusion. I thank you for being that voice of reason.

And now a guest post from a good friend, William Jefferson Clinton.

Hillary, Thank you so much for being the headstrong and ambitious woman that you are. Thanks for being there to hide the bodies and stick the skeletons back in the closet. Thanks for standing behind me through every scandal and cum stain. Thanks for being at my side so that people can see me as the pretty one.

Sorry big d, thanks for hounding me into this blog thing. And thanks for this awesome template. It compels me to make the words fit the great framework that you built for me. Thanks for always being there for me.

Sorry to phred also, thanks for being a friend both in here and out there.

This post would be a mile long if I was to kiss all the asses of everyone that made my last post so much fun. And an even longer one if I was to kiss the ass of every blogger that had encouraged and taught me the ins and outs of blogging. If I missed your name then just come over and tell me to kiss your ass. Odds are I just might. Life is a crap shoot after all.

Next post it's back to a happy man in a sick world.

Vacation Time: The Final Update

Today starts my shortened vacation so I will not be putting up a fresh post until at least Sunday. Before I stopped posting I wanted to leave a post where I could come and comment during the times when I am able to stumble to the keyboard in between rounds of hedonism and debauchery.

Every Fucking Day, I add someone new to the list of assholes and bitches that can kiss my fucking ass.

Permanent List
___________
___________
___________

People That Can Kiss My Ass Today
_________________________
_________________________
_________________________


I will be adding names to my now invisible list throughout the week. Feel free to add as many names as you damned well please as many times as you damned well please. The way I feel I can guaren-damn-well-tee that they can kiss my ass too. As the man said,'Open up your hate and let it flow into me.'

*******Update*********

I have never tagged anyone before. But if I don't start seeing some more names then I will start visiting my blogroll and telling them to get over here and leave some damned names or they can kiss my ass. And you lurkers out there, I have made it easy for you to leave a damned comment by leaving my anonymous and other options open. Leave some damned names or Kiss My Ass!!!!

*******Second Update********

My good friend, Phred, has a similar post on his site. It regards idiot Corporate doublespeak. While your over there tell him that Fuzz said he could Kiss My Ass.

*******Third Update*********

I just woke up from a three hour nap. Damn, That was fun. Here are some pics of asses that I will not be kissing. Not Today - Not Ever!!!

**********Fourth Damned Update********

I was tagged. I hate being fucking tagged. Hell, I'm on vacation here damnit. But since it was April and she is so cutesy and kind and her writing sticks lead in your pencil, I guess I will go ahead and say fuck it and do the damned thing.

Cue the drum roll again maestro

The top seven song to listen to when you are pissed off.

7) Dirty Deeds - AC/DC
6) I Hate Everything About You - Ugly Kid Joe
5) Right Now - Korn
4) Break Stuff - Limp Biskit
3) The Sickness - Disturbed
2) So What - Metallica

And the number one song that will push you over the freakin' edge and make you go postal.

1) Mandy - Barry Manilow

If any of those song titles are incorrect, go ahead feel free to tell me to kiss your ass. I am awful with song titles, I have chonic lyricosis, and I don't give a flying fuck. I will sing them the way I want to sing them. If I want to sing 'Two Chickens to Paralyze' instead of 'Two Tickets to Paradise' then I will. If I want to sing, 'I wish that I had Jessie's Bitch' instead of 'I wish that I had Jessie's Girl' then I will. If you don't like it then kiss my ass.

Feel free to comment and leave a song that puts you in the mood to be pissed off. And if you think that is begging for comments, then big d Kiss My Ass!!!

**********Fifth Update********

Big D has graciously offered to kiss my ass if I reach 100 hits today. If I get just a few more comments, he will have to publicly kiss my ass on West Texas Rocks. So the next update will feature every commenter between now and 100 receiving the royal ass kissing of a lifetime by yours truly. The more one commenter posts then the more they will get their ass kissed. So step up and get ready for the ass kissing of your life.

**********Final Update**********

Thanks to everyone playing along. You will never know how much fun Angry Joyce and I had with this vacation post. Thank you all for making that comment section rock. To all my blogfriends both old and new, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I haven't the time to thank each of you individually but if you are in there, know for a fact that I appreciate it. I will be working on the ass kissing post and probably post it tomorrow night. Have a great weekend everybody! You Rock!!!

A Top Three List

Since the end of the fiscal year is rapidly approaching, I thought I would commemorate the event with a top three list. Cue the drum roll, maestro.

The Top Three Dumbass Things Overheard At Work This Fiscal Year.

3) I am not a Homophobe. I have sex with my wife every night.

2) (From a male employee.) I need to take the rest of the day off. My side is really hurting. I think my ovaries are acting up.

And finally the number one Dumbass thing uttered.
1) I wouldn't mind doing that extra work on top of my regular job. Does it come with a raise?