Thursday, September 9, 2010

This Year's Weapon Winner - no the year isn't over, but it don't get no better than this.

Nothing can enrage a person faster than calling out his mama. When you mess with someone's mama you are walking on thin ice my friend. Dare I say taking your own life into your hands? I can imagine the first person who decided to insult someone's mama. Some dude in 900 BC needed to put a Cro-Magnon in his place. He needed something super mean to say and out came the very first yo-mama joke.
"Yo mama so stupid...even a caveman can do her!" ZING!!
(I just made that up and want credit in the scrolls of yo-mama joke history)
As a matter of fact there was an entire MTV show dedicated to showcasing the harshest yo-mama jokes you could bring.

So here is how serious one guy took the insult hurled at his beloved mama. He got mad. Like real mad. So mad that the person who spewed this atrocity against his mother deserved what I believe to be the ultimate weapon one can wield. This is the epitome of all the weapons at your disposal. Guns? For pussies. Knives? Child's play. Candle stick, noose? Solely for Clue fanatics. When you mean serious-as-a-fucking-heart-attack business there is only one weapon you reach for. One.Large.Fork. Which is exactly what this guy did. A fork is all business, no other weapon says "I am not fucking around here" like a fork. When you insult Mama, a fork is the only solution here. Dare to insult her one more time after the fork is presented and you may get that fork heated up for you, right before it is stuck neatly in your eye. Don't.Mess.With.Mama.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Have fun and help

Found this over at Steam Me Up, Kid's place (see favorite blog ever to your left). First of all it is for a great cause, second it is a really good listen. I'm not a fan of most kids music, but I could really get into this. I can't wait to get it from itunes.
If you ant to learn more about the cause, go to

My favorite song so far is Morton the Caterpillar, but I have a habit of changing that the more I listen to a cd. Go, buy, download, dance!

Friday, August 20, 2010

Preparation is key

When people get mad it would do a world of good to have them standing in a room full of blow up squeaky bats. That way no matter how much they wanted to pound the inciter with a two by four, they'd only succeed in popping a few bats. Hell, they'd probably even get the giggles. "I'm gonna kick your ass!" *squeak* *squeak* *squeak* My point is that getting mad at the toy store would be much better than say the gun store. The equation is simple. Get mad + want to hit + need a weapon = grab the first thing you see. What did this week's winner grab? A scooter. He gets mad and the scooter is now in evidence. I have this mental image of some dude waving a scooter around his head and it's swiveling like a helicopter blade up there. You can't not look like a lunatic if you're wielding a scooter. Huh, maybe my toy store analogy wasn't so good after all. I swear if I see Mr. Potato Head listed as a weapon one day I'm not going to be able to stifle that laugh during the meeting.

I couldn't do this week's weapon winner without giving y'all some lagniappe. A local business that has had several break-ins decides that a guard dog would be a good idea. So they get themselves a boxer, probably name him Killer or Bruiser, and feel much better about leaving at night. Of course the thieves come calling again. Guess what the one thing they took was? Killer is now living a life of crime, no doubt wearing one of those awesome spiked collars. Irony can be so cruel.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Act your age, not your shoe size.

Repeat after me, "If you whack someone with it, it's a weapon". You may think that you are some innocent law abiding citizen, but as soon as you get mad and grab the nearest object to pound someone with, instant criminal. So in saying this, the weapon list is infinite. However, some people have a knack for choosing a weapon that will bring me great fits of laughter. I'm gonna let this weeks weapon speak for itself, and this time the story behind it is 100% true. Well, at least 98% true.

One High Heeled Stiletto Shoe. Oh yes, you read that right. One High Heel Stiletto Shoe worn by a drag queen cruising downtown heading to a local gay bar. Said drag queen runs into another queen and immediately suspects this person is sleeping with her man. Off comes the Louboutin, which we know is tall and pointy because you've never seen a queen in chunky heels, and she promptly whacks the bitch allegedly sleeping with her man...right on the forehead.

Now tell me, WHY am I never witness to something like this?

Monday, August 9, 2010

Blow Me takes on a new meaning here.

This week's weapon winner is from archive and really got me thinking. If I ever decide to commit robbery it's going to be big. I'm not going down for 27 bucks and a Kit Kat. It will be more like a scene from the Italian Job, and I would look just like Charlize Theron doing it. Here's how it won't go:

I decide that need some cash and frankly don't have any idea how to rob someone. So I start casing my local convenience store that has been hit on more than one occasion. This tells me that they have crappy security footage and no secret alarm system. I'm not a big fan of violence, I just want some money that is not mine. I decide against bringing a gun because I'd probably just end up shooting my toe off. I honestly think I can pull this off with my very insistent voice. It's go time, and I enter the store and assess the cashier. She's got a weave that has at least 4 bumpits involved and her nails are longer than her fingers, painted black and gold stripes. Two of the nails look pierced with hoop earrings. She's on the phone with someone who is apparently her "boo". Her head is jerking back and forth when she talks and the volume level is near shouting. I amble up to the counter and shout "GIVE ME ALL YOUR MONEY!"

Her: (to person on the phone) Guh, you gonna haveta hole on. Some beeotch is yellin at me.

Me: I said give me all your money!

Her: Who you think you yellin at?

Me: I'm yelling at you! Give me the damn money!

Her: Now how you gonna make me give you some money? You ain't got no gun, you ain't got no knife. Guh, get out ma stoe.

Me: I need you to shut up and give me all the money!

Her: I know you not telling me to shut up. You betta go check ya self.

Me: *thinking* I should have brought a fucking weapon.

Her: You gonna get out or what?

Me: No, I want your money! *reaches for the closest thing to throw at the cashier which happens to be a handful of Blow Pops and launches them at her head*

Her: **screaming bloody murder** You hit me in the eye!! You hit me in the fucking eye!! If you made my fucking contact come out I'm gonna beat yo ass guh!

Me: *thinking* I'm not gonna get any money here am I? I'd better just cut my losses and run.

I turn around just in time to see the city's finest pulling up. I'm arrested and put in the back of the police car. At least I'm not charged with robbery. Only assault with a weapon. If I had known the weapon would be Blow Pops, I would have risked the toe. "I'll blow your head off" will never mean the same thing again.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Weapon of the Week

My job mostly sucks. I don't have one of those jobs that I go to because I love it. It's more like the job you go to because you need to feed your family and keep them insured and clothed. There is one shining moment per week I am allowed however. Without going into too much detail as to what I do, it's closely related to stomping out crime. As people who stomp out crime like to do, we meet about it of course. At this weekly meeting we go over some of the "best" crimes of the week. This has brought to my attention the awesome innovation of criminals, specifically the weapons they choose to use. I'm going to highlight one per week, and I may back track some as they deserve the mention here.

This week's weapon winner: Telephone

Have you ever been mad at the person on the other end of the phone and all you can do is beat the phone against the counter? I think that's how this got started. Someone was probably on the phone with customer service somewhere. Customer service can piss you off like nobody's business. Maybe they had to call customer service because their baby daddy wouldn't. Maybe they had to call about the cell phone overage that they noticed on the bill but had no idea why it was there. Maybe when they were on the phone the customer service rep eluded to the fact that the person they share the line with was making a lot of calls. That this person was possibly making all those calls to the same number, at all hours of the night. Maybe it was a number that was recognized as a sisters number. Not his sister, knowwhaimsayin? Possibly after talking to a snarky customer service rep and then realizing what was going on made someone mad. Then he walked through the door. Who wouldn't throw the phone at him? Telephone was definitely the best weapon to choose here.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

If loving you is wrong, I'm out.

I hate being wrong. I don't even like the word wrong. Say it. Wrong. It's a stupid word. So I do as much as possible to never put myself in the position of being wrong. Let me clear something up. I'm not the person who thinks she's always right. Confused? Let me explain.

I am not so egotistical to think that I am always right. There are tons of things I have no idea about. Algebra, clueless. Airplane staying in the sky, you got me. Here's what I do. I don't answer unless I know 100% that my answer is the right one. I will not argue any answer unless I know I can prove it. Now that's not to say that I'm not opinionated. I'll give you the hell out of my opinion, but you'll know it's just my opinion from the start. I don't do this to try and come off as smart, or know it all. I do it to save myself the embarrassment of being proven wrong. How can a person who is wrong argue so heatedly when they don't know for sure if they're right? Is it because they are sure, or because they think you will give in to their insistence? My vote's for the latter.

Maybe I'm playing it too safe. Maybe I should argue back when I'm pretty sure *purty* *pretty* what the fuck? Is this right? Is this a word used in conjunction with sure when you are almost sure? Or is this some local slang that just snuck *sneaked* up in my vocabulary? Now it's telling me snuck is wrong. Did I make snuck up? Sneak, snuck. Sneaked just sounds dumb. But you know what? I'm gonna look all this up, and when someone says "I'm pretty sure snuck is wrong", I'll have the right answer to both.

Monday, July 12, 2010

For Eul, not Yul

Helpless people bug the shit out of me. Please don't ever let me be the person that can't set the time on a random electronic device. Given instructions I can pretty much assemble anything. Youtube has a video for everything. Now I'm not saying I want to do it, I'm just saying I could if no one else is going to.

My Aunt Eul (pronounced yule, like yuletide, or Yul Brynner, and maybe my dad made me watch one too many westerns and that's why I know who Yul Brenner is and why every time I say Eul/Yul I feel the need to hum this tune Magnificent Seven Theme Song is a prime example of this at 86. Don't let the age fool you, she's been helpless from birth. Everyone should have an Aunt Eul. I've said this on more than one occasion, and those that don't are truly missing out.

She is the funniest person I know that has no idea that everything out of her mouth is funny. For one thing she can't remember the name to anything. She will however come up with an alternate that you will be able to figure out if you still have your secret decoder ring from 1985. She calls me up the other day and tells me she wants to go eat at USA Today. Obviously she did not mean to eat at the newspaper, unless she wanted to swipe some reporters lunch. My mind immediately started going through the list of what the hell she could be referring to and finally settled on a local place by the name of Crawfish Town USA. So I translated for her and she says of course that's what she meant. It takes years of practice to learn what she may be talking about.

She's also a hoarder. Not like the kind that they have on tv, no this is more like super preparedness. If there is a toilet paper shortage at your local Wal-Mart, you can bet that Aunt Eul is the reason behind this. She has a closet just for toilet paper. She lives alone. How much can one person need? Nightgowns are another rabid obsession for her. I swear she has 200. Silk, cotton, poly, rayon, flannel, printed, solid, long sleeves, short sleeves, sleeveless, short, long, mid length, you name it. The best part is that I do most of her shopping for her and the sales clerks are always giving me pitiful looks and are not buying that this floral patterned tent is actually for my great aunt. I'm pretty sure Prescriptives brand makeup went under because they were tired of manufacturing toner. I swear I bought 500 bottles of that toner for her. The women would see me coming and start emptying the counter. Yet, I've never seen it laying around her house. Probably selling out her back door.

The last best thing about Aunt Eul are her compliments. Just yesterday I went over to drop something off, probably a nightgown, she asked about my dress.

Her: (absolute first thing out of her mouth) How much did you pay for that dress?

Me: Twenty bucks! (proud because I thought it was a great deal on such a cute dress)

Her: Oh good, it doesn't look worth more than that. (making a scrunchy face like I stunk)

My hair is another thing she won't edit herself on. It's curly. She likes it curly. I pay stupid amounts of money on occasion to have it straightened. Here's how that goes.

Her: (shrieking) What did you do to your hair!!??

Me: I straightened it. You don't like it?

Her: God no, it looks ugly. (more faces like I stink)

So if you ever need a good game of clue, toilet paper, toner, nightgowns or insults, get yourself an Aunt Eul she's awesome.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010


Actual conversation between me and my mom:

Me: The young one got another frowny face at daycare today.

Her: Oh who cares, it's just daycare.

Me: This is the foundation of his school years lady. His calendar looks like an ad for antidepressants. **commercial voice** Are you feeling sad, happy, sad, sad, happy, sad?

Her: What can he be doing that's so bad?

Me: Well today he apparently tried to shove rocks in an electrical outlet.

Her: He's so cute. **giggles**

Me: You've just been removed from the pick up list.

Her: Well what does his teacher say about all this?

Me: That he's not receptive to time out. He's following a gang.

Her: **chuckles** A gang.

Me: No, really. He's in a gang.

Her: **blank stare**

Me: I don't know what to do. He keeps pulling his pants down so that his little Thomas the Train undies show. Everyday when we leave he hits his chest with his fist then throws some apparent gang sign to these two kids they call "Big B" and "Trashman".

Her: **eyebrows scrunched together** GANG signs??

Me: Yes lady!

Her: ***very high pitched*** Reeeeeeally???? **fast breathing**

Me: Mom, I'm fucking kidding, calm down.

Her: **hysterical laughing** I was wondering how the hell a 3 year old knew gang signs!! **laughing gasping**

Me: The real question here is how do YOU know what gang signs are??

Her: Um helloooo....I drive a bus. **throws 10 kinds of wrong gang signs**

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Old Yeller

I yell at the TV. Well it isn't always yelling, but talking to it sounds just as crazy. People have asked me if I'm talking to them. You talkin' to me?? Um, no. I'm talking to the TV. Moron. Move along. I do this more so when watching the news, because lets face it, that is the perfect thing to yell at. Mostly because they, meaning the "news crew species" because they can't possibly be humans, not with those faces and personalities, say inciting statements. Like this morning when the super blond perky wrinkle free news anchor said "Coming up, a nurse is now behind bars for turning in a doctor who she says was practicing bad medicine". The story said that the nurse felt this doctor was doing unnecessary procedures and prescribing medication when it wasn't needed. Guess who's at fault here? The nurse. Yelling ensues. HOW THE FUCK IS SHE THE ONE IN JAIL?? WHEN DID IT BECOME ILLEGAL TO GROW A CONSCIENCE?? Of course the news reports that the nurse must have some problem with the doctor and just wants to ruin his career. NOW ALL THE NURSES ARE GOING TO BE SCARED TO SPEAK UP WHEN THEY SEE SOMETHING WRONG!!! Call me crazy, but I'd be way more willing to believe that procedures are being unnecessarily performed than a nurse wanting to ruin a reputation.

A Saints "fan" is given the chance to speak into the mic during the Saints homecoming from Miami. She proceeds to say how she's just so happy blah blah blah and that now they will change the name of whatever street in her city to Jeffery Henderson St!!! Yay Go Saints!!! ***clears throat*** YOU IDIOT, IT'S NOT JEFFERY HENDERSON! IT'S DEVERY HENDERSON! WAY TO SHOW YOUR TRUE SAINTS DEDICATION! GET OFF THE FUCKING BANDWAGON!

The View is the perfect show to yell at if you decide you want to try it. A good way for a beginner yeller to test out the water. Any of those four bitches will get you mad if you watch it long enough. I often end one of my yelling fits with why do I watch this stupid show?? Joy makes my blood absolutely boil. She just sits there waiting for the perfect "in" for another of her ridiculously corny and entirely too planned jokes. The joke always ends up sticking out like a damn redheaded fat chick in a Victoria's Secret catalog <----- wink wink nod nod elbow elbow....did you get my joke, did you see what I did there..... YES JOY WE HEARD THE JOKE WE'RE NOT LAUGHING BECAUSE IS WASN'T FUCKING FUNNY AND WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOUR NECK THAT YOU MUST MOVE YOUR HEAD LIKE A CHICKEN CONSTANTLY??

It just feels good to let it out.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Knowing is Half the Battle

I have a confession. I have been sleeping with Darth Vader for some time now. He's awesome in the sack and that cape is good for so many different things, but damn when he falls asleep that breathing shit has got to go. I mean do you think I could ask him to turn off the sound effects on that helmet? I had every Star Wars action figure you could think of as a child, still do as a matter of fact. Getting to sleep with Big D as I like to call him is such a dream come true, until actual sleep is involved.

GI Joe was another huge favorite of mine, and by extreme good luck he has been reborn! I am now the proud owner of the complete GI Joe series. Watching these cartoons brings back so many good memories. Plus I had tons of military gear at my disposal thanks to Dad being in the army, so pretending to be GI Joe was easy. I wonder if I should tell him where that "lost" artillery belt is? Nah, I may need it now that my passion is being renewed. The best part about watching now is I can appreciate all the awesome corny lines. The one I saw this morning (yes I may have been watching GI Joe this morning SO?) referenced "kicking the mustard out of that hot dog". Try to stop from from saying that now. One guy grabbed another guy by the neck and told him he was gonna "pound those pimples off his face". SWEET. I am also now old enough to see the sexual tension between Duke and Scarlett. "Is that a hand grenade in your pocket Duke, or you just happy to see me?" I'm not sure that was said, but that's what I heard. She is way to pretty to be a Joe. Did I want to be her when I was little? Hell no. I wanted to blow shit up, not be the intelligence chick. I wanted to be Flint, badass helicopter pilot. Another little tidbit I missed as a child? Gung Ho is cajun. I can now see him referencing bayous and gumbo. Huh, GI Joe was cultural too. No wonder I'm so worldly.

I am now in the mood to strap on my gear, belly crawl through ditches and throw pine cone grenades. Yo Joe!!

Wednesday, January 27, 2010


Decided to jump on the blogwagon. I have no idea where this is going to go if anywhere, but wanted to try it out. Looks like so much fun when others are doing it, and I want to have fun damn it. I have no direction, so I'll start randomly. Oh, I like to use foul language at times so if you are easily offended you can beep the words out when you read.

Don't you think if one in four women are reading a pregnancy test wrong that should raise a flag? I'm pretty sure that one woman should pray that the test results are negative. If you can't figure out how to read a pregnancy test with 12 pages of written instruction please do not procreate. I think that this being the only test a woman has to pass in order to have children is crazy. Going hunting? Need a license! Going to cut hair? Need a license! Going to sell real estate? Need a license! Want to create a child, feed, clothe, care, nurture, educate, morally instill, guide, and send into the world? Go right ahead, no questions asked.

So I'm keeping it short this first time out the gate. You're supposed to take it slow when you pop your proverbial cherry, well that's what I'm telling myself anyway.