Wasted life.

Just got finished watching The Tooth Fairy.

I have to say that the best part of it (and the only thing stopping me from calling this post - 2 hours I will never get back) was Stephen Merchant.

He was hilarious.

I like strangling budgies.

I have been looking for this thing forever.



Funny as hell. The 80's were so much fun.

Have to add the God Sketch.

Jon Lajoie Rocks!

This is funny as hell...



...and a literal translation of every rap song in existence.

LOL

Just finished watching Hangover.

Best quote ever!

"Eeew, Alan. Did you just eat sofa pizza?"

Go ahead, make me laugh.

Why would they reject this commercial? It is halarious.

I'm so excited!

My training com padres (Pablo, Lenny, Wayne) and I will be on the road again tomorrow.

It's been a while since we traveled and I am looking forward to catching up.

I will take notes.

Bill's last day.

In July of this year, Bill will say goodbye to Microsoft, the company he has been a part of since he was 17 years old, to devote his full energies to his foundation work.

During his last keynote address at CES, he presented a video parody of what his last day at Microsoft might be like.



It made me wonder what kind of company Microsoft will become with out his goofball personality running the show. Steve Balmer will still be there, I suppose, but how much of his goofball attitude was because Bill was there to support it.

I thought I would post just a few of my favorite Microsoft videos.







I think he will be missed. Let's hope his leaving doesn't turn Microsoft into a stuffed-shirt company.

'Nice girls' don't put it in their mouthes.

SUZIE: "Licorice anyone? Evel?"
ME: "Naw, don't eat licorice."

SUZIE: "You don't like it?"
ME: "Can't swallow it." She gives me a quizzical look. "I have problems swallowing lots of things, pills, french fries, nuts..."

SUZIE: "You should have that checked?"
ME: "Have what checked?"

SUZIE: "Uh, the swallowing thing?"
ME: Deadpan."I'm a nice girl, I spit."

It's NOT a tumor!

The boy and I watched Kindergarten Cop tonight. This part cracks me up!



The boy thinks I am retarded. He says he can't wait til he is old and the stupidest things will amuse him as well.

Home of the Whopper!

Pablo tells a pretty tall tale. I am sure that some of these things sort of happened to him, but, like any good fish story, it gets bigger over time.

Like the time he and his brother were coming home from a night of heavy drinking and saw a horse running along the side of the road. His brother, of course, just happened to have 16 feet of rope on him and leaned out the window, lassoed the horse and rode it home. Or the time he beat the shit out of the Extreme Mountain Dew guy as Jackie Chan (apparently Mountain Dew guy's friend) sat back and watched.

After a week of traveling together we have heard pretty much everything.

So, we are 15 minutes into our commute when Pablo starts to tell a story. I let him get about three words out.

I grab his arm and ask, excitedly, "OOOOO...is this the one about the aliens?"

He looks at me, quizzically, "Uh, no." He tries to continue his story and again I interrupt him.

"Wait! Are there aliens in this story?"

Now he looks at me like I have two heads, but still is not catching on. You can see Lenny's shoulders start to shake. "No! Anyway..." and attempts to continue.

I interrupt one last time, "But you do have a story with aliens in it, right?" The other two guys are busting a gut, but Pablo is just irritated that I am stopping him from telling his story.

Then again yesterday we are 25 minutes into our commute home when Pablo starts to tell us about the time his friend pulled the pin from a grenade, tossed the pin and dropped the grenade at his feet. Lenny, Wayne and I are getting pretty punchy after spending all day at the trade show. We are tired, so we are just letting Pablo go.

At one point in the story, Pablo pauses for effect and I couldn't help myself. I am gazing out the window, deep in thought, "I shot a man once, just to watch him die."

Silence. Then Pablo says, "Really?"

"Ya, in Reno." Lenny loses it and Wayne almost goes off the road. "I ended up in Folsom prison and that prick, Johnny Cash stole my story. The rest, as the say..."

Golf.

This cracks me up every single time I hear it.

Knock it off, or I will knock it down!

The odd, well timed, inspirational, bring awareness to a problem video is all well and good.

Just keep it off my FunWall please.

I open my Facebook and prepare to smile. What embarrassing pictures did Potsie post from his weekend at the Moose & Squirrel? Who's having a birthday, gotta post some silly animated birthday card. How many old farts from high school can I track down today. HA, someone sent me a friendship turd. This is a happy place, right?

Holy Shit! 16 dead kid videos on my FunWall? WTF? When I see those videos I get enraged, I want to hunt down the asshole who hurt those children and have them sand blasted or skinned alive. Right after I find the asshole who posted this on my FunWall and punch them in the throat!

It's called a FunWall people. Not a 'depress the shit out of everyone you know wall', the name was a little wordy so they went with FUN! Ya, you cringed at the 'dead kid' reference. "Not very sensitive or PC of you Evel." But that is exactly what I mean. I sound insensitive because they have desensitized me.

It seems there are some people who do nothing but sit and watch 'dead kid' videos and post them on everyone else's wall. How fucking depressing is that?

I am not saying don't try and bring awareness to child abuse or drunk driving but there is a time and a place for everything. I am trying to cram a little fuckin' joy into my otherwise shitty life, "You're bringing me down, Man!"

Keep that shit off my FunWall......
or I swear to God I will tear that mo'fo' down!

Maybe I can win the lottery?
(Written, but not posted, on 8/25/07)

The most wondrous thing happened to me Thursday night. I will probably not post this until after I find out if I got the job at the Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™, just in case the wrong people read this. (this may or may not make sense later)

So my cousin Potsie and I get early release from work and decide to get a bite to eat on the way home.

It is important to note that Potsie is gay. Not just gay, openly gay. In fact he will throw you in front of a bus just to chat up the cute driver as they bag and tag you. He really doesn't care what team you play for, he figures he can recruit you.

But I digress. We stop at a local pizza joint and I notice my old boss' van out front. "Oh great, just what I need." We didn't exactly part on good terms.

As we walk through the door of the crowded pizzeria, the boss is walking out. He nods at me, "Hello." Very civil. I nod back and mumble a hello. Then he notices Potsie, "Well hello, Potsie!"

Potsie and I stop dead in our tracks, and as the boss walks out the door we say, in unison, "How do you know Boss?" He grins.

"AH HA! I KNEW IT!" Even in the busy pizza joint people stopped and stared. I was bursting with joy, I could hardly contain myself. I could not wait to get out of that place so I could pump Potsie for more information.

Later as Potsie chatted up the boss in the gay chat room, the boss was pretty much shitting a brick. You see, as he was informing Potsie that he was 'very discrete', Potsie dropped the bomb that I was, in fact, his cousin.

Holy shit. I need to buy a lottery ticket. My luck has certainly changed. I can't wait to call him and ask him for a reference.

And another thing...
(Added Today)

Still no word about the job....no news is good news I guess.

Who says that? That is just bullshit. No news is not good news, it fuckin' sucks.

W.O.W. people will get this.

More shit that cracks me up.

I have this thing on my iGoogle page, it's a Chuck Norris Fact Generator taken from over at Beer & Sympathy.


It always makes me laugh no matter what kind of shit ass day I am having.

Also found at Beer & Sympathy. Cyanide and Happiness

The clock is ticking.

So, I have been feeling funny for a week or so. But I was waiting to go see my doctor, I have an appointment this Friday.

Unfortunately, I told my sister that I was feeling funny. Bad idea. She wanted me to go to the emergency room, pretty much every day for the last week. She is all for me going but when she was sick it was around 3 months before she finally went in and by that time it was pretty much too late and she had to have a valve replaced in her heart.

Any hoo...

I have been taking early release all week because I just wasn't feeling right. Tonight, was no exception. But as I was driving home past the hospital I made a deal with myself, "If there is a parking space out front, I will go in."

SHIT! I was pulling in and someone was pulling out.

"Okay, but if there are more than 5 people in the waiting room, I am not staying." I walk in and there are four. Double Shit! Then I start eyeballing the guy in the corner. "That kid is huge, he could easily make two people."

Now I am not only feeling funny, but I am agitated. I am such a joy to be around when I am agitated. When I am agitated, I don't just think stuff, I say it, out loud. There is only one person ahead of me at admittance. I look around, "So, what do I need for this place, a credit card? Or do they take cash?"

I look at the clock, 10:15pm. Great. The woman ahead of me vacates the premises and I sit down. I give the nurse my hospital card and tell her my symptoms. "Here is the thing. I am not sitting here all night. You have one hour." I look at my watch. "Go."

She gives me a blank stare. "Huh?"

I lean into the window, maybe she didn't hear me. "I am leaving this hospital in one hour. Inform the doctor, you have until 11:15 to do whatever you have to do."

Long story short. I get blood work done, x-ray, urine test, blood pressure taken and an EKG. I see the doctor twice. My blood pressure is high (158 over 114). X-rays and EKG are fine, is sending urine and blood results to my doctor for my Friday appointment. I told him I was not waiting around for the results.

Dr. Sunshine has one facial expression...for every emotion. And they all look bored. It was really hard not to laugh at him trying to show concern. It appeared like he was really trying to make his face change expressions and it was painful.

Diagnosis? I am fat, I don't exercise or eat right and I smoke. He's brilliant isn't he?

Wow, I didn't need you to tell me that. "So, I am not taking a stroke or anything? Cuz I have a wedding to go to on Saturday."

"You should be fine for that. In fact I can guarantee you till the end of the weekend."

"Funny. So? Am I going to die?"

"Well, everyone is going to die. But whether it is in 20 years or 30 years, that's up to you."

"TWENTY OR THIRTY?....Good God! I don't want to live that long."

"Well you know...you could linger."

"Fine, I will pick up one of those Do Not Resuscitate orders on my way out."

11:13pm I exit the hospital.

The Landlord.

This was too funny, I just had to pass this on.



By way of My Two Second Shelf Life.

And once you start watching video you can't stop...



The Boy had this reaction to Santa.



And Michelle was wondering where all the socks go? He goes a hundred miles an hour, he's green dynamite...

Holy Shit! It's not rocket science.

I roll up to the speaker at the Horton's.

"Ya, I need two medium triple-triple's, a large double-double and two medium steeped tea with just milk."

I drive up to the window to pick up my order. I am alone in the car. Horton's Lady has the five cups ready to pass out the window.

"Would you like a tray with that?"

I give her my best 'are you on crack' face.

"Uh, no. You can just pour that directly into my lap."




I am pretty sure she hopes I find this under the rim.

Am I pissed?

I don't know, am I? I am just confused.

TIM HORTON'S
NOW WITH 18% Cream!

What? What were they giving me before? Is the old stuff better for me? Was it real cream?

I check the fridge. The stuff I buy is called Coffee Cream and it says 18%. It's not lite, I would never buy anything that says lite. So as far as I can tell I have been drinking the good stuff at home.

So, what the fuck were they giving me at Tim Horton's? Cat milk? I don't get it.

So I head on over to the Horton's website to get to the bottom of it. There is no mention that they were previously serving me milk that their summer camp attendees painstakingly milked from stray cats in Tatamogouche.

Sorry, no info there. Nothing useful anyway. Except for this little tim tidbit.

Steeped Tea (not available in Quebec)? What objection could the French possibly have to steeped tea?

And while we are on the French, what the hell is 'French' vanilla anyway? Do they grow it in France? No they do not. Maybe it is that French vanilla is snottier than regular vanilla, ya think?

And while we are on the subject of WTF? Is this supposed to distract us from the fact this kid can't sing a fuckin' note?

This is what is wrong with America. They are calling in and voting for this kid, disregarding the fact that it is a SINGING competition. There can't be that many toned deaf people in the U S of A. Can there?

I am sick and cranky today, does it show?

F.C.S.

I know I have to eat better. With more thought to nutrition as opposed to taste. Cuz, let's face it, the two are mutually exclusive.

I don't eat, and when I do it's take-out (since I don't cook) or microwave stuff, since I hate doing dishes and they come with their own. Did I mention I am a domestic goddess?

I don't exercise, I walk to the car. That is it. I avoid the mall like the plague, as it too involves walking. I sit on my ass all day at my computer and all night at work to the point where my ass has actually started to take the shape of my chair. Its a nice looking chair but makes a lousy looking ass.

Seems like anything that is good for you gives me hives.

The Boy tried to blame me for us running out of milk.

I can not believe he is blaming me. "How am I supposed to know we need milk if you leave the empty carton in the fridge?"

"Uh, when you go for a drink, you see that it is empty." His logic astounds me.

"I don't drink milk."

"What? You should, its good for you."

"It's cow juice. The only way I can drink that shit is if I soak some frosted flakes in it first."

Unfortunately, my nutritional habits have contributed to my FCS. This became apparent one night at work when I was suddenly and violently gripped with what felt like a charlie horse in my ribs.

I contort myself in the most unflattering pose you can imagine, trying desperately to ease the pain that I can feel building rapidly. Bunnie looks at me horrified. "What's wrong?"

It looks like I am scarring her, I try and look less traumatized, "Nothing, I am fine. It's just the FCS acting up."

You could tell she was trying to figure out what that meant. After all she has had pretty much every ailment worth having (including gout...I kid you not) and she would know of all the major diseases and she clearly never heard of FCS. With a worried look (thinking this was some rare new malady), "What is FCS?"

"Fat Chick Syndrome."

Blank stare.

"You see, my organs are viewing all this available real estate on the outside of my skeletal structure and they are attempting to relocate."