Thursday, August 5, 2010

One Helluva Hiatus

Whew!  Let me tell you about the sabbatical I just now got back from!  You wouldn’t believe it!  I don’t know if you remember, but, I needed a break last June.  Just a few days off.  This blog, it don’t write itself.  And it’s not as if one of you appreciate the effort that I put into it.  Have one of you ever said “thanks”?  Thanks for all your hard work?  Thanks for running me back and forth to the mall?  Thanks for washing our clothes?  And all the food we stuff our faces with?  Have you ever?   EVER?!?!?
But, hey, I digress…
So my plan was for a short break, right?  Well, the next thing I know I’m in Japan, high up in the Himalayans, studying to become a Buddhist monk.  It was sorta like that movie with Brad Pitt.  No not 12 Monkeys.  Seven, it was Seven.   I was there half a year or so…totally mastering their martial art ways, when I fell for the master Buddhist monk’s middle daughter.  Oh, she couldn’t stand me, but I was totally into her.  I followed her all over.  That is until she got the restraining order.  Then I followed her all over from more than 150 ft away.


i knew it had something to do with the number seven
One day, while I was shopping at the Himalayan Wal-mart, comparing the prices on long distance night vision goggles, a fan from my Dissertation Station days recognized me.  We started rapping about how cool I was, and how great of an all around individual I truly am.  It was embarrassing, really.  But, who am I to stop someone when they’re gushing about me?  He offered to buy me a drink, which I guess in hindsight, wasn’t a really good idea.  Considering we we’re standing in the middle of Wal-mart.

I bet you can see into the future with those fuckers

On the way to this cat’s local pub (that’s a Bar for all my American readers out there), a silver mini van rolled up.  That’s when I thought…”Shit!  The kids found me!”  But, I breathed a sigh of relief cause I remembered not one of them is old enough to drive.  Let alone get the van into Japan.  Then I thought…”Shit!  I forgot to tell the kids I was leaving!”.  That’s when the doors rolled open and a bunch of representatives from the Tattooed Granny Bikini Squad (TGBS) hauled me, viciously, into the van like I was the last man on Earth.


I ain’t saying it was her, but they all look like her...
It was horrible!  The grannies…they tore at my clothes.  Put their old granny hands on my young sweet flesh.  The agony of it all.  I’m still suffering from PTS!  But, before those zombified, tattooed grannies could sink their teeth into me, the van came to a jolting halt!  The grannies bounced around inside the van like a lead pipe on a baby seal.  Suddenly, the van door was torn away.  The darkness was filled with bright, cleansing sunlight.  And you’ll never guess who walked into view holding the torn away van door.  It was…awwww…who am I fukin?  You wouldn’t believe me anyway.


you thought it was gonna be Superman, didn’t you?
Wanna know the real reason it’s taking me so long to get back in the saddle? 


Believe you me, he won't be happy long once he finds out what a hemorrhoid really is. Or what that quack is gonna do to him.
C'mon! You know you wanna

Thursday, May 21, 2009

hold onto yer panties

new content's on it's way!

C'mon! You know you wanna

Thursday, May 7, 2009


How about that swine flu, huh?  Actually, how about all that news coverage?  Non-stop and incredibly accurate!  No speculation or conjecture what so ever!  Swine flu this, swine flu that.  Pandemic this, pandemic that.  End of days this, end of days that.  Sheesh!  It’s enough to make you want to plastic wrap your kids before they leave the house.  If you let them leave the house, that is.

And make sure you don't eat any pig products, kids! Don't take any chances!!!

Here’s the thing, though.  News is not entertainment.  We might treat it as such, but it’s not.  Whether it’s swine flu, bail-outs, or Miss California, news isn’t meant to be consumed continuously.  Just because it’s on for 24 hours, doesn’t mean you have to watch it that much.  You get your information and you get the hell out.  We have to learn to walk away from this stuff.  Seriously.  Except for a small minority of folks, we don’t need to be in constant contact with the news.  Your vigilance of H1N1 doesn’t make you more prepared.  It only makes you more paranoid.

It’s all meant to scare the shit out of you.  Because fear sells.  Fear packs the asses in the seats.  Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the predictable news teaser that goes something like this:  “What condiment in your refrigerator could be killing you?”  Or:  “The killer in your child’s toy box.”  Then they go to commercial.  It’s called a teaser for a reason you morons!!!  It’s so you’ll sit there through the commercials about medications that you don’t need, like the lemmings you are.  And the condiment that could be killing you?  Turns out to be ketchup that’s been sitting in the fridge for 90 years that some moron decide to chug, choke on and die.  And the killer in your kid’s toy box?  Oh, that’s the legos you keep stepping on.  The ones you keep yelling at your kids to pick up.  The very same legos that caused your heart to seize ‘cause you were ranting like a lunatic again from all the stress you’re under.  That’s the killer in your kids toy box.  And the news does it night after night.

There’s a world of hurt right there

And look what ended up happening with the swine flu.  The media pumped the hell out of it.  We all watched every last second of the coverage.  We we’re all sure that a pandemic was on our hands and, oh, wait a minute.’s not as bad as we thought.  Ummmm…everything’s ok now.  Go about your business. Until we’re ready to scare you again, that is. Which will be in about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

Are zombies attacking? Full story at 11

Now look, I’m not saying turn a blind eye or not be aware of the world around you.  I’m just saying get your information, then go about your business.  Turn the freakin’ TV off, for the love of the Christ!  We can’t wait for the news to stop spreading paranoia.  That’s their job.  We’ve gotta walk away from it.
Now I’m gonna go check out CNN.  I hear that baby seals have suddenly grown thumbs and they’re really pissed.  The baby seals, not CNN.
C'mon! You know you wanna

Sunday, May 3, 2009

What is a fine powder consisting of microgametophytes?

Maybe you’ve noticed the lack of quality content around here, lately. And you’re probably wondering: “WTF!!!” Am I right? You’ve probably been wondering: “What’s up with this jackhole, anyway? Is Jman giving up already? It must be another woman.” Well, if that’s what you’re wondering, you couldn’t be more wrong. You want to know what’s up? You want to know what my damage is? It’s this:

It ain’t fucking sweet-tarts

No, it’s not swine flu. It’s pollen. Fucking pollen. Specifically this fucker:

Know thy enemy

Oak pollen. Stupid Oaks! I’ve got half a mind to rent a few chain saws and go on an oak tree massacre. I mean for the love of all that’s holy!!! The last two weeks or so have been MISERABLE! My brain hurts. My mind hurts. Ughhh! I can’t take it! You know what I’m talking about. The sneezing. The mucus congealing in your throat. The snot that just runs out of your nose and you don’t even know it, ‘til it’s hitting your lower lip. I’m sick of it!

Yea. That about sums it up

And that’s not even the worst part. If the zombies ever take over in early spring, I’m fucked. Because I’m sure some zombie-hunter will mistake me for a flesh-eater. No matter how much sleep I get, I feel like I haven’t slept a wink in days. God damn sinuses!!! If this tree-blooming season takes any longer, I’m gonna punch some holes into my sinus cavities. With a spoon!

And every year “they” say: “Oh! This is a bad year for pollen.” Saying shit like that is like when the weatherman starts yaking about the humidity on the world’s hottest day. If it’s’s fucking hot! Who gives a shit about the humidity! Or the wind chill factor in winter time. It’s fucking cold. Likewise, don’t sell me this shit that this is a bad year for pollen. EVERY FUCKING YEAR IS A BAD YEAR FOR POLLEN!

god i love the smell of pollen in the morning!

My question for you you even know what pollen is? Yea, sure it’s the filth covering your car every morning. But, do you know what it really is?

How the fuck does this microscopic cell of emptiness cause so much misery?!?

Let me dumb it down a shade for you non-scientician types in the audience. Pollen is flower sperm. Yea, you read that right. SPERM!!! Could it possibly get any worse? Nah...don't answer that.

Just in case you need a visual

Just's supposed to be a bad year for pollen! Now, you'll excuse me, while I go hack up a tonsillolith.
C'mon! You know you wanna

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Where's your Obama now???

Huffington Post The Senate on Thursday rejected an effort to stave off home foreclosures by a vote of 51 to 45. It was an overwhelming defeat, with the bill's backers falling 15 votes short -- a quarter of the Democratic caucus -- of the 60 needed to cut off debate and move to a final vote.

The death of the bankruptcy reform measure -- which would have allowed a small number of homeowners who met strict conditions to renegotiate mortgages under bankruptcy protection -- is a major tactical win for the banking industry. But allowing the foreclosure crisis to continue unabated may end up being a failed strategy for the financial sector.

Let me ask you something...why is the banking industry getting a “major tactical win”? Didn’t we just give them a shitload of money? How do they get a say in anything? I don’t get it. No. That’s not true. I do get it. We’ve got mega-banks that have been bailed out to the tune of trillions of our tax dollars. Then, not only do they NOT lend said trillions, but they used that money to lobby the government to kill the foreclosure/bankruptcy bill. And the Congress went right along with it. Surprise!!!! So, the homeowner who’s in trouble keeps getting fucked, and the mega-banks laugh all the way to the, well, bank.

This is why change, real change, doesn’t come from the government. The government doesn’t give shit one about you or me. They only care about the dollars. And where they’re coming from. So, you might as well get used to the same players making more and more money. Because it doesn’t seem like there are enough people mad enough to make things change.

But, you know, there’s that whole swine flu thing you gotta know every last detail about...

C'mon! You know you wanna