I seriously feel like I'm about to cry. I've always been frightened of clowns, and it didn't help to read Stephen King's It when I was 11. I love zombie movies, and I was excited to watch George A. Romero's latest contribution to horror film: Diary Of The Dead. The main characters found a tape at some dead people's house which contained footage of a little girl's birthday party. Yay! Happy fun unicorn sunshine rainbow time! Then a fucking clown comes "shambling" from the house. The dad tries to honk his big red nose, but it bloodily breaks off. Then zombie clown attacks. Great. Now I have to watch out for zombie clowns. Not only do I have to be on the lookout for the Boogeyman, Blacula, and Tyra Banks, but now I must add zombie clowns to the list. Thanks, asshole.
Note: When used as a verb, spook can mean to notice, to spot, to discern, or to find out:
Person A) I'm hungry. Person B) I spooked a McDonald's a few blocks back, if you want to go there, fatty.
The adjective unspookable refers to something's ability to pass without notice or as normal. Therefore unspookabletrannies are transgendered individuals who can pass as the sex to which they were not born. Like Vivica Fox.
I haven't been lazy, just responsible. I have an important exam next month, so there will probably be some light posting days between now and then. But just like a woman's period, there could be some heavy flow days. And my vagina is ALWAYS wide-set.
I'll just share a story for now.
The Casino Debacle
It started as a normal night for Rex and me. We hung out at a local bar for a while, but we didn't really want to end the night when it closed. We went to a late-night bar that was open until 4 a.m. Let me tell you my look for the evening. The important components were my shirt and scarf. There were tight jeans, but forget about them. I was wearing a brown button-up long sleeve shirt with embroidered pockets on the titties in a western style. My scarf was silk with a multitude of colors in a zebra pattern on a navy background [read: GAAAAAAAAAAAAY]. I had it tied Boy Scout style. Rex kept asking the waitress if I looked like a gay cowboy or a gay boy scout. I would have accepted either answer. We met a funny guy in business attire whom I thought was named Kingston, but he kept correcting me. He was from Hong Kong and had an awesome accent, but I never did catch his real first name, although his last name was Kok, so that was cool. We "made friends" with about 4 random people and some douchebag who was following all of us. He kept talking about how rich he was. I disliked him instantly, and he proved throughout the next few hours that he had no redeeming qualities.
Four a.m. rolled around sooner than we thought, and we found ourselves out on the sidewalk chatting with our new friends. Someone commented that we should go to a casino. Okay. What? Before I could even process everything, we were in a cab heading to East Chicago (although I think it's technically Indiana). I hate gambling, but I figured we'd have fun anyway. That douchebag Richie Rich was not invited, but he decided he really wanted to gamble too, so he hopped in another cab with the two guys who didn't fit in ours. Rex and this girl were groping in the backseat with me right next to them, and I was over it already. Dude in the front seat was on the phone with his friends who got stuck with Richie. Apparently Richie had vomited out the window and was now trying to lie down across the backseat. We were a rather motley crew.
At the first casino we got to, Richie got to the front of our crew, and the guy checking IDs said he was too drunk to enter. Because he had arrived with us, this restriction extended to all of us as well. Richie blew up and started yelling that he could "buy this fucking place!" We decided to just go to another casino, so we told him where we were going. We lied. We said we'd meet him there. He made a phone call, and a Mercedes came to pick him up five minutes afterward. I don't really know what that was all about, but we lost him.
We got into the next casino and split up. The guys went to play poker, and Rex, the girl, and I went to the blackjack tables. The girl disappeared soon afterward, and we knew we'd just get home by ourselves. Here's the thing: we didn't exactly plan the evening, so we had only cash on us and no credit cards, etc. We played blackjack, and I quickly ran out of money, so Rex had me bet with his pot. I was betting the minimum, and he was betting anywhere from $25 to $100.
We were having a great time. We were up and down and all that. I eventually stopped playing because I hate losing money on gambling. I once played blackjack in Tahoe and stopped after I made $13. I told Rex to put aside one of his $100 chips so we would have enough to get home, since he had converted all his cash to chips, and I was out. I walked around for a little while, and when I returned, Rex was getting up from the table. At one point he was up $2,000, but now he had lost everything.
Fine, I thought, let's just go the fuck home. What are we doing here anyway? We looked around for the people we came with, but they must have left already. We made our way to the lobby and prepared to get a cab. "Wait," I said, "did you cash in the chip already?" "Oh fuck." We were stranded in fucking nowhere, Indiana with no money and no one to call. I don't even know that many people in Chicago with cars, and no one I could call at 10:00 a.m. in the middle of the week to pick my ass up in another state.
We somehow started talking to a black woman in the lobby also appeared to be waiting. Girl was fully pressed--hair, nails, everything. . . fanny pack. She was waiting for her sister or someone to pick her up and take her back to Chicago! Not far from where we were going, assuming she was telling the truth. We told her our plight and begged her for a ride. I could tell she was seriously considering it, and I was giving her sad puppy face.
At one point in the begging process, I stuck my hands in my back pockets, and I felt papery material. Could it be? Yes! I had been sticking change from getting drinks back there all night. It came to about $40, enough for the up-front payment to get a cab to take us to Chicago. Perfect, see you later, Keisha (not a joke). Rex said he had money at home, so we could pay the driver when we got there.
We slept in the back until we arrived at Rex's condo. He told the driver he'd be right back with his money, and the driver was extremely skeptical and insisted that I stay with him along with Rex's ID. Fine. Rex headed around the corner and into his building, and I waited in the car. It was taking forever, and I started to get nervous. Did he just ditch me? I got out of the car, and the driver started freaking out. I told I wasn't going anywhere, but I wasn't into feeling like a hostage. After a total of 15 minutes, I felt compelled to do something. When the driver was looking away, I bolted around the corner and up to Rex's door. He was in there frantically looking around, looking majorly confused. I asked, "well? What's the deal?" Apparently he thought he had more cash at home, but he must have taken everything to the casino. I suggested just going to an ATM, and he said that's all he has until next week. Fuck.
Then there was a knock on the door, and we looked at each other like, "oh shit." It was the doorman with Rex's ID saying there was cab driver downstairs who still needed to be paid. Rex said he'd be right down. Somehow he remember that he had a giant bowl of change in a drawer next to his Taser[1]. He straight up took the whole bowl down to the cabbie, and I was like, "okay, hope to see you soon." Sure enough he reappeared after a couple minutes as the driver had accepted the payment. When you have even a small bowl of change, the cash value is surprisingly larger than you might think. A bowl that size probably held around $80 or $90. The driver made his money plus a huge tip. . . albeit mostly in change.
I promised myself I would never go back to Indiana unless I absolutely had to. You never know--book tour, assassination attempt, etc. We collapsed and took a well-deserved nap. I was never happier to see Barack Obama than that moment.
[1]-Rex kept a taser in a drawer at his condo. I saw it one day asked, "what the fuck is with this?" He said he used to get wasted with his friends, and they'd shock each other with it. Nice. He pointed it at me and grinned, "wanna try it?" I said, "nooooooo!!! Get that the fuck away from me! I could die!" Maybe, maybe not. When I was in peak athletic shape, I had an abnormal ECG, and they wanted me to come back for an echocardiogram, basically an ultrasound of the heart. I never did. Sometimes I worry I might just drop dead of some heart condition unknown to me. Oh well, I think I'll go eat five pounds of bacon and sugar, smoke 20 cigarettes at once, and be generally sedentary. Beetus & heart probs, here I come!
(Hopefully you've seen the video already, but it doesn't really get old)
Today I was right next to a dude who fell on his face just after stepping off the bus. My glance briefly flicked in his direction, but I didn't even turn my head as I walked by. He fell in really soft snow, so it's not like he was hurt. But I felt a little bad that I didn't stop to see if he was okay, so I made sure not to outwardly laugh. That's nice, right? If I fell like he did and someone came up to me looking all compassionate, asking "are you alright?" I'd be like, "back off, asshole." And then the optional follow-up, depending on circumstances: "yeah, I'm talking to you, you ancient cunt."
I'm working on typing up a pretty good story, so in the mean time, here's that lame chain letter of 25 Things that's been going around Facebook. If you've already seen mine, then shut the fuck up and count yourself lucky to read it again.
1. I fell like I'm selling out by writing this.
2. My favorite short story is "Paul's Case" by Willa Cather.
3. No one taught me how to whistle when I was a kid. I taught myself in college, but I can only do one note.
4. A cat attacked me when I was 11, and I had to get 16 stitches on my head. It didn't hurt, but I now fear cats.
5. I loved how the antiseptic for the stitches made my pillow smell.
6. I'm obsessed with 80s sitcoms like Mama's Family, Golden Girls, and Murphy Brown.
7. I believe Taylor Momsen is a highly underrated actress. She's had exactly two amazingly emotional moments in Gossip Girl.
8. The only girl I ever dated was in 6th grade, and she's a lesbian now.
9. I once looked at a guy's Facebook page before our first date so I could pretend we had similar interests. I ended up disliking him, but I gained a few new favorite bands.
10. An old friend of mine drunkenly told me on several occasions that he was gay. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. He's now married, and I feel terribly guilty.
11. I apologize to people when I don't mean it to satisfy them.
12. I get really annoyed when people don't pick up after themselves, but when they do, it's never good enough for me.
13. I spent two weeks in China, and I decided not to visit the Great Wall. I regret it.
14. As part of my job I talk to old women about their vaginas and sex lives. I love it.
15. In grade school I got suspended because I was present when my friend told a girl that the grean beans he was eating tasted like her pussy. I didn't even know what "pussy" meant.
16. I used a bidet for the first time last year. It was life-changing.
17. I've been drinking up to 8 cups of coffee every day for a few months. I should really cut back.
18. I went to Spain when I was 15 and bought Shakira albums. I credit my success in the language to wanting to understand her lyrics.
19. For a few months I only ate vegetarian and drank soy milk. It was great.
20. I had a dream last night that I got in a fistfight with Stephen King because he was picking on me in the locker room. I know, wtf, I love him.
21. I'm Jewish, but there's something about Christmastime that I love.
22. I didn't listen to Katy Perry's "I Kissed A Girl" until last week because it bothers me that she used the same title as the 1995 Jill Sobule song.
23. I tell people I'm allergic to mayonnaise even though I'm not. It tastes terrible to me and makes me vom, but if I just tell people I don't like it, they scoff at me.
24. Poor grammar upsets me unless it's intentional. It really irks me when people misuse the subjunctive mood.
25. I wrote 20 of these last night, but my browser crashed. I only remembered 16 originals.
p.s. the spellcheck tool for blogger wanted me to changes "vaginas" to "vaginae." Vuh-jigh-knee
I rarely poo at work. On my first day back at work, I pooed in the morning before I started working, and it was a close call. When I flushed, the ahem, material went down the drain, but then the water level started to rise! Right before it was about to spill over I said a little prayer and flushed again. Luckily it worked that time, and there was no overflow of nasty blue water. I didn't really want to be the guy who fucked up the toilet my first day at work. Today was the first time I dropped a deuce during actual office hours. I'm a thorough wiper. I get it as clean as I can, and I would totally keep a stash of babywipes here for me. I prefer to save my poops for a time when I can shower afterward, but that's not always possible. Bidets are both practical and awesome. The point is I use a lot of terlet paper. That was the problem today. It's not like I took such a massive shit that the pipes couldn't handle it. I did my business during business hours, and a funny thought occurred to me: "watch today be the day the toilet overflows." I flushed, and the dense mass of toilet paper wouldn't go through the hole! I freaked out. I grabbed the toilet brush and tried to nudge it down to no avail. Meanwhile the water is rising, getting closer and closer to shaming me. I turned the stick around and jabbed the terletmass with the thin end to see if that made a difference while flushing again. The water continued to rise, and I gave up all hope. I started washing my hands, waiting for the inevitable. Then I heard a familiar noise. . . could it be? Yes! The toilet flushed properly! Crisis averted.
Here's part of a message I got from Lila a while back, names changed:
"Last week my slutty roommate Brianna had some guy named Winston spend the night. The next morning, he dropped a deuce in our toilet and left. When we went in, the whole thing was clogged and overflowing. Talk about getting up close and personal with the person you just slept with. We made Brianna unclog it."
Note: Gaeta is character from a nerdy television program who got his leg amputated.
Yogi: I love that phelps is a stoner and a drinker. faggot. Me: LOVES cock. Yogi: My dream is phelps and gaeta. Really brings my worlds together. Me: i want to top phelps SUPER hard so he makes his ugly goofy face then slap him around Yogi: I guess thats why i was thinking of him with gaeta. Gaeta could fuck him with the stub and get all kinds of faces out of him. Me: yes! i love stumping. I WANNA STUMP YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL
No, not the Queen of DVDA. Well, not just that. Perpetual reality show contestant Megan Hauserman is getting her own dating show. Trophy Wife is filming with single men who have a net worth of over $1,000,000 and a self-worth of zero. Megan's special needs dog is 100 times more endearing than she is.
I'm just going to point out some highlights from the premiere of this trashfest.
Buckwild was never exactly pretty, but with her new eyebrows, she straight up looks like a hag. One of her first quotes of the show is this: "I'm willing to go as far as it takes to win the money. I mean, I stuck my tongue down Flavor Flav's mouth. I will do what I need to do." Clearly nothing she could possibly do on this show could debase her more than what she's already done. Making out with Gollum was heinous, and she didn't even win the precious! Becky explained that she really needs the money in order to pay back her mother who paid for all her lawyer fees. Why did she need a lawyer? I'm glad you asked. She said she really needs income because she was recently doing work release. All I know is that has something to do with jail. She claims she was charged with assault with a deadly weapon and malicious destruction of city plants. *facepalm*
Maybe she ripped up a city plant and choked a bitch with it!
Good old m'lady (not as in "my lady" but MANNISH lady) Frenchy is back. Angelique kind of makes the show. Her grotesque tranny manface looks even more disfigured than ever. Oh and she refers to herself as classy. Lies.
This episode also marks the triumphant return of the Hamburglar! Milf is back and as ground beef-faced as ever.
At the beginning, the F-listers disembark from boats onto shore and have to take their luggage with them. Scrawny-ass Bonez's (creepy "clean" comedian from I Love New York) suitcase pops open and he said that he noticed his hair gel and mousse floating in the water. What? His hair is maybe three millimeters long at MOST. Just how unruly can it get?
There was a Flavor of Love 3? I was not aware. Apparently there was because there are a few skanks from that particular program. Prior to hopping out of the boat into treachorous, ankle-deep water, she made sure to wrap her hair in a garbage bag. And by "her hair," I mean the synthetic material she purchased and had sewn/glued/braided to her naturally-grown tufts. "I'ma do anything for da money. I'll eat sand, drink ocean water. But I cannot--ya'll already know--I would not get this weave wet." Bitch if you win, just think how much weave you could buy! You could have a nice lacefront wig for every day of the month! Real human hair mixed in with yo shit! Imagine it. . . you could have Oprah hair! Isn't it worth getting your tore up weave a little wet?
The first challenge is digging through a pool of mud to find "gold" coins. Buckwild said this of Myammee: "she came prepared this time. She got some weave coverage insurance. She ready to get some money."
Several of the girls went swimming topless within the first twenty minutes. Angelique and Leilene were of course involved.
BW and my girl Saaphyri were chatting about alliances on their beds when that whiny trick Leilene entered and asked what they were doing. Saaphyri responded, "sittin' here talkin' about yo ass and yo nipples out in the damn pool, actin' like you never been to Charm School." Bless her.
During Leilene's turn in the challenge, It from ILNY commented that "Leilene goes and she don't get no coins cuz I think she was worrying about who she was gonna have sex with in the house. Like if it was dildoes in there or, like, condoms in there, then i think she would probably win, know what I'm sayin'?" It took a while to understand since your speech is all kinds of special, but yes, I know what you're saying.
Who the fuck is 20 Pack? I find it hard to believe I don't recognize him because he is HOT. And when he opens his mouth to speak, he doesn't sound like a complete douche. Points for him. The pictures of him here make him look a little tooly, but I'm okay with that.
You know that cheerleader from Heroes? She can heal from basically any injury, ie., she cuts a toe off and it grows back. Wouldn't that mean she's a perpetual vigin? Wouldn't her hymen regrow every time she gets boned? She'd make a killing as a hooker.
