I am from Rochester, NY where I had lots of friends. Now I live in Arlington, VA and have a lot less friends. I hope you like my blog. If so, maybe we can be friends. Even long-distance or e-friends are okay with me. Thanks.

Monday, May 04, 2009

H1N1? Not in scrabble!

At least the bird flu (H4N1) was scrabbalogically correct. H is worth 4 points, not 1!

How does one get swine flu, pray ask?

My unqualified, yet highly probable, theory of how the pig flu came about...a pig got the flu from his owner who always was guilty of "spraying it" rather than "saying it." He wasn't feeling well (because he had the flu) and took it out on his piggies (the flu is a people sickness, yes?). The said pig had low levels of white blood cells/fighter t-cells, and thus a weak immune system. And as a result, the flu mutated into something much worse, like a killer flu. Then that person's son smoked some weed and had an unexplainable craving for something salty, so he licked the infected family pig (she was the hottest one, which explains why the rest of the pigs on the farm became infected so easily). Then he took public transportation.

The devastating effects of the pig flu can be seen in the pic below, so please take extreme precaution when making out with infected pigs. The swine flu will "kill" your chances of procreation.

Random thought:

I think the worst part about being a pig is that by the time you can enjoy your life (by eating lots and lots of bacon), you're already dead. And someone else is doing the enjoying of/for you.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

The tale of Quasi Tato: The hunchback fry

Just a pinch under 8 inches!!! I know you're all probably wondering, is that ruler to scale? And yes it is indeed, and here's proof:

I guess you'll just have to take it on faith that i don't have two trick rulers.
My fryend, who i'll call Quasi Tato (he had a hunched back), came on the side, along with a second side of verbal abuse from the food runner who found it hard to believe two people at the same table would order the same dish.

Quasi Tato made the journey from the restaurant to his final resting place, my office trash can, via the Metro. He rode in homeless luxury, a cardboard to-go box, and made the trip safe and soundless. No, "Are we there yet?"'s. No, "What? Am I not good enough for you?"'s.

Unfortunately, Quasi Tato, when receiving his final measurement for the guiness book of Xtreme Fries, broke his back. (He never really had a chance--he was born from the outer layer of a large female potato, hence the hunched back.)

His life was cut short, and he was hunched. He never married. He died lonely and cold. But at least he's not being ravaged by my stomach enzymes like his fryends! Although his life went down the "tubes" quickly, Quasi died with dignity. And other stuff in my garbage can.

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Error in Book of Life causes millions to burn in Hell.

Apparently, a simple computer error in which some t’s were accidently left uncrossed and some l’s were accidently crossed, has led to the unexpected sentence of eternal damnation for millions of devoted religious persons. What makes it even worse is that “really bad people” were by the same token let into the “great place in the sky,” thwarting plans by God to create a Shangri-La.

The critical error had been realized by a nun who had a near-death experience and wound up meeting up with “The Devil.” Sister Watters was scared back to life when St. Peter denied her entry into heaven, condemning her for countless acts of media piracy and “leaving a heaping pile for others to clean up.” She recalls seeing “Crazy Bull” Sanders, an infamous serial killer in the 60’s B.C., taunting her from the other side of the pearly gates. Sister Walters confirmed her suspicion of an error when she saw “Crazy Butt” Sanders, a former professional wrestler turned evangelist, roasting on a spit in the fiery pit.

Family of the late Scoll Pelerson, a devoted churchgoer and volunteer, fear he is burning and/or rotting in Hell at this very moment, but have “faith” the error will be caught and corrected for retroactively with Sister Watters’ help. When asked for comment about whether she would try to tactfully bring this error up with “The Father,” she replied, “Sometimes Father knows best. This isn’t one of those times.” She was then immediately expired by a lightning bolt.

Monday, April 07, 2008

Where, oh where, did my BJ go?

Bubblegum Jim, or Bubba Jim, or Bubba James, or BJ.

I know what you're thinking, and the answer is yes. He did have adventures. But these adventures had nothing to do with bubblegum. In fact, he was allergic to chewing, which ruled out bubblegum and most foods. When he was too young, his parents fed him food he had to chew. Thus, he grew acquired to chewing and developed an allergy to it.

"Hark! Pray tell us about some of Bubblegum Jim's adventures," you say.

And I say, "His life was pretty boring, except for the fact that he was allergic to chewing. He smoked a lot and had bad teeth--not because of eating too many sweets, but drinking too many sweetened drinks. BJ loved his life though. He saved a lot of money on unnecessary things like food."
In case you were wondering, Bubblegum James died very, very young. He actually didn't die, per se. He just kind of disappeared. And next to his invisible body lay an empty pack of bubblegum. Ahh, the irony!

Below is the actual crime scene (neglect) photo:

Monday, March 24, 2008

Don't be cog-bloggin

Ain't nuttin' worse than dudes who cog-blog their buds. I mean, really? I will put a picture of me and my big cog b'low, in case you were wondering what it looks like.

Cogs come...in different sizes and colors. They are all pretty much shaped the same though, as they are designed to fit snuggly into an appropriately-shaped opening. The cog works hard and is necessary to sustain the gears of humanity.

People often tell me to be a man, and not to be such a cog, thus utilizing the definition: a subordinate but integral person.

Anyone who thought anything perverted is perverted, and correct.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Leaf Ericcson; 2008-2008

I couldn't believe my eyes...on the desk of my friend lay a leaf fetus. Let's call him "Ericcson," son of Eric the Red Leaf. Discarded like a two of clubs in some card game where the two of clubs isn't a good card, no longer nutritionalized, the fetus deprived of its life source--its mother, "mother earth,"--lay still (un)born.

I don't think Ericcson was intentionally plucked prematurely, but rather his death was the result of excessive chloryphll abuse, a 3 day binge. He thought he would become Incredible Hulk-like if he took enough of the "green stuff."

Like a bum on the subway platform, everyone did their best to ignore Ericc. Luckily for his sake, he didn't smell like urine and rescued he was by a nameless, but very attractive, man. Now his legacy can go on even though he cannot. Oddly he had a twin, Dericcson, that survived.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Heaven's Gate Closed to Heaven's Gate

Ahhh...Now I get why they wore Nikes!!

I wonder how those folks on halebop are doing? I also wonder where they are and if they have reached their “final destination?” A postcard would be nice! I wonder how many “close calls” they had with other unidentified flying objects zipping through space? I hope they took digital cameras cuz it may be a while before they can get any “proof” developed. I bet some of them have an irrational fear of inner-comet beings. I say irrational because inner beings are usually reserved for planets or moons.

Well, best of luck you crazy freakazoids! Soon you’ll arrive at Heaven’s Gate only to be denied entry. There are no shortcuts on the journey to everlasting bliss, unless, of course, you’re talking about LSD.
I hope the apples are good because Lucifer will convince you to eat them.
And don't forget the grey poupon. I hear the mustard isn't very good!