Hey, Yo My Names is Cyrus Janzel

Yo, yo - I'm taking over for Mr. Winkie in this Bloggizzle for today. My name is Cyrus Janzel (in da pic to your left, I'm the one with the board) and I'm a singer/songwriter/dancer/choreographer for popular Florida based boy band "Shasta Ferrari." Mr. Winkie needed a break from penning and I needed a break from all the girls (whaddup ladies?!!) so I am here to werk-it-out wit ya!

Yeah, yeah, check it out. I gotsta tell ya'll i been B-I-Z-Z-Y! Bizzzzzayyyyy on da frizzzayyy. Last month, the other boys in my group and myself got back from a tour of the Mid Western U.S (what up Corncobs?!!!), and it was smack all da way! I bedded some poon and all but I really think I fell in love with a special girl. Sorry ladies but the Cyrus just won't jyrus wit ya anymore. Okay, I will but only until I find her phone number and/or remember her name.

Our new CD (Girl You Make Me Spit Out O' My Privates) is selling like hot cakes and our first single (I Need You Girl So Why You Kneed Me?) is banging up da radios all across the continent! Yeah, yeah. But we never get played on University stations, it's all that Emo crap and I don know nuffin bout Emo. Wasn't there a doll called Tickle Me Emo and da furry would all dance n whatnot when you touched him in the hole or sumpin? Ha ha ha, juice kiddin, kiddies! I tell ya homeeez, i was worried after our second album only sold 25 million copies. I thought for awhile I would have to go back to school and take medicine or sum shit (after I got my GED, of course). Stay in school kids! But thankfully we've sold 60 million on our new one and maybe we'll reach our debut album's sales of 435 million copies (I think that's like double platinum or sumpin).


It's nice to be home and do sum chillin. The hood is a bit changed though, but my Mom and my church are here still and that's all I need (Whaddup Mom & Jesus??!!!). I miss the church 'cause dat's where my voice developed. It developed through God and I thank him every day for my gift. And there's a ton of hotties in pews!!! (Whaddup Hotties In The Pews and Mom and Jesus!!!).

So we're back on tour next week. Me and the crue (Anton Jazz, Opal Diamomd, Hep C and P-KING DUCK) are just rehearsing some new choreography I come up with on the bus. It's gonna show up on our next video for our second single that I wrote about a very personal subject. The tune is called "Why You Touch Me Uncle Joe?" But ya gotta confront the bad feelings in your life and keep it real, dawg. Yeah.

So I will definately see you fine ladies on the road and remember - KEEP YOUR DREAMS ALIVE BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T HAVE DREAMS YOU"LL HAVE A BAD SLEEP AND FEEL BAD N STUFF.

K, Get chillin!

Uber Long Monday Entry

Each month of the year has about 4,628 different themes to it as decreed by somebody somewhere. For instance, February is Heart Month. I'm always happy when I make it through February without having a heart attack because it seems irony always plays a large role in death.
February is also African American History Month. It would be extra ironic if I had a heart attack and while I was in hospital, I was diagnosed as the first white guy to ever have sickle cell anemia.

I'll highlight a just a few observances for each month but not all. Oh, and these appear to be American. I don't know for sure, but I imagine there's similar stuff up here in Canada. I found the PDF file that has this info here.

January is (among many others):
National Tea Month, National Oatmeal Month, and National Soup Month. It is also Clean up your Computer Month (what the fuck are you doing with your computer if it takes a month to clean?), Love Yourself Month (oh, I see now why it would take a month to clean your computer), Bald Eagle Watch Month, It's O.K To Be Different Month (the rest of the year you're screwed Micheal Jackson!), and Poverty In America Month (The rest of the year you're screwed Willie Nelson!).

February
National Cherry Month (watch out virgins), Snack Food Month (wouldn't you love to be a lobbyist for these guys?), National Dental Health Month (oooh, there's gonna be a fight with the snack food guys!), International Embroidery Month (can you imagine the hookers and coke at that convention?).

March
National Peanut Month, National Umbrella Month, Mental Retardation Awareness Month (coincidentally, this is the same month our family has a reunion), National Optimism Month (I'm sure that will never last), National Youth Art Month (the display space for these art pieces is the world's biggest fridge).

April
National Stress Awareness Month(isn't this the month we do our taxes as well?), Soft Pretzel Month (they should really get with the folks who started National Impotence Awareness Month), National Humor Month (I believe Tony Danza is the poster guy for this one), and of course, National Straw Hat Month.

May
National Allergy & Asthma Month, National Salsa Month (why is there no stat holiday for this?), Correct Posture Month, National Messes Month (c'mon honey, it's the only time of year I can jizz on the carpet without guilt), Touring Theatre Month ( That Fred Phelps guy is busy wizzy this time of year).

June
National Accordian Awareness Month (If you've heard the sound of an accordian, your'e fucking aware of them), Kids Month (I guess Christmas just ain't enough), National Turkey Lover's Month (Cmon people, shine on your turkey everybody get together, learn to gobble gobble gobble right now), International People Skills Month, National Ragweed Month.

July
Dog House Repairs Month, Blueberry Month, National Anti-Boredom Month (weird considering July is the most boring month of observances)

August
Back To School Month (I bet kids are happy as shit about this one), Admit You're Happy Month (if you don't, cops show up at your house and jail you), National Beauty Pageant Month, National Clown Month (John Wayne Gacy killed more young boys in this month than any other).

September
National Chicken Month, National Baby Safety Month (because, we all need to be reminded not to put them in blenders that are plugged in), Hug A Texas Chef Month (I smell the premise for the sequel to Broke Back Mountain), Update Your Resume Month ("It says here under computer skills that "you can kick your dad's ass in Pong,").

October
National Vegetarian Month, Go Wild Eat Ham Month (seriously!), Stamp Collecting Month, National Roller Skating Month (obviously this list hasn't been updated since 1985), Right Brainer's Rule! Month (cant the right and left ever see eye to eye? This bipartisanship has got to go), Auto Battery Safety Month.

November
National Alzheimer's Month, National Family Stories Month (I put the previous two side by side because I have an evil streak tee hee), National American Indian Month (I suppose the 6 of them the Puritans didn't kill get together in Vegas), National Alcohol Education Month ("Okay class, just remember that when slurping Jaggermeister out of a shooter girl's belly button, be sure to not bite. Here endeth the lesson).

December
National Bingo Month, Universal Human Rights Month (I hear that the humans in other parts of the universe are treated very poorly), International Calendar Awareness Month (I popped a blood vessel in my head thinking about that one), and Read A New Book Month.

There's tons more for each month so if you think you've been missed, then please go to the website above and look for your fetish and it'll tell ya when its celebrated.

K, bye for now.

Freaky Friday's Fetish Fun Foto #1

Before we begin today's entry, I have an announcement to make: The Friday Foot Pic is no more...well sort of. I'm changing it from "The Friday Fun Foot Foto For Fellow Fans Of Feet" to Freaky Friday's Fetish Fun Foto."

The reasons are that the foot thing is just too limiting, and this title is much easier to remember. Also, I think (in general) fetishism is brilliantly entertaining and sometimes sexy too.

Actually, this would be a good opportunity to apologize to my female readers. I can't help that I like what I like and I can't help dwelling on it. I'm not at all a sexist pig, I'm just a guy who is fascinated by what strange things do to me - physiologically speaking. But don't worry ladies, we'll have stuff for you too, maybe. But ask nice, okay?

So I guess this is installment 1 of our new weekly feature.



Sex & Religious Imagery

I don't know what it is about sex and religious imagery that makes me all excited but gosh dernit, I'm all for it. Maybe it was my Catholic upbringing and what, as a youngster, I perceived as it's inherent hyprocrisy (I felt that way although I couldn't have verbalized it as eloquently as I can today because I had late on-set geniusitis), or maybe its just because I'm a freak-a-zoid.

Here's a simple picture I found on the internet at chantalmenard.com. (If you go there and check out other galleries be sure to exercise caution. There's some stuff on there involving piercings and suspending yourself from a ceiling using those piercings)


I can't help but marvel at the beauty this woman has and the fact that I see a nipple. The pic is so pretty, so dark, so innocent and so sinister all at the same time, how can you not want to take her confession?

So, honey, when I say that I want to have sex with you while you're wearing a nun's habit, I don't mean that I want you to become a nun then have sex with you, because that would just be totally wrong! It's all about the imagery. And that imagery was created by people, not the good Lord himself. At least, I hope so.

K, have a good weekend.

All I want is baby boomers to get their head out of their asses.

Good day all.

I have a boss at work who can't google and that makes me giggle. Yesterday she was feeling very down and depressed that she could not find a particular book in any local bookstore. I asked what book it was and she says, "Aesop's Fables." I thought that was a drag because not too long ago, I needed to find Old Yeller and had alot of difficulty. It turns out she didn't want it as a gift for someone or for her to have a copy at home, she just wanted to read a couple fables and write her own type of fable for some big boss event or something. Oh, the corporate world is so very lame!

So I said, "Hey, have you tried the internet?" She looked at me like I had found her stranded in the desert and I was carrying 30 Big Gulps. What year is this? It took me all of 2 minutes to find Aesop's Fables in their entirety. It would've taken me 1 minute but I had to spend one minute shaking my head and contemplating her stupidity.

I ended up spending the rest of my day trying to figure out how someone could be that dense and it hit me. She's one of those weird baby boomers that has had everything done for her. Her education (she has 3 degrees, one of which is journalism!) totally paid for, her husband makes somewhere around 250 gees a year, and her employees find Aesop's Fables on the internet for her. She is so out of touch with reality.

I like to make things up on this blog but I promise you, these are true quotes from her. I promise!!! Seriously!

"Being in a wheelchair ain't all bad, the spot you get at the movie theatre has so much leg room!"

"I hate Hawaii. There's too many tourists. I should know, I've been there 7 times." (yeah, cry me a river).

"My husband is going to kill me, I bought a baby grand piano at lunch."

"The Vagina Monologues was very funny but they could have had a man's point of view for balance."

"My son was suspended from school for breaking into the artroom and destroying other students' stuff. His teachers are out to get him, I swear."

This one is my favorite:

"In my day we all just wanted peace, love and understanding and we had that for awhile. Then the next generation comes along and with them it's all about violence. I don't understand how kids could end up so selfish when their parents practiced peace. It's obviously video games and rap music."


I'm sure it's not all boomers but it seems to me that a large chunk of them will blame society's ills on anything but how they raised their own children. Sorry boomers, I hate to be mean but it's true. Now please go back to spending my retirement funds.

Introducing The Ne'er Do Wells

The Ne'er Do Wells

I'm quite pumped about something a friend and I have been working on for awhile now. A guy named Kerry (the most talented bastard I know), myself and Paul M(the second most talented guy I know) started a band a year or so ago. Paul has since moved to Toronto to get plastic surgery, but Kerry and I are back at it and we're recording a CD.

Here's what's going to happen to us:

We finish the cd and put a couple of tracks up on a MySpace account. 2 or 3 kids get ahold of the songs and start telling their friends. Soon, millions of kids are downloading it for free. Then Alan Parsons hears about us and invites us to record it properly in an abandoned church in Fiji. Kerry gets involved with a Fijiian model and I take to the bottle out of jeleousy. We break up the band but the cd is released and it sells a billion copies. Travis Tritt and Green Day fight over which one gets to open for us even though we're broke up. 20 years later we reunite at a festival in Fiji. We make ammends and write 3 shitty tunes and re-release our original album with those as bonus tracks. Then Kerry runs for the Green Party and I start a cult.

K, http//www.byfornow.net

Yeah, I've worked

I've had some jobs before.

My first job was washing dishes at a greasy spoon type diner. I found dentures under a napkin once and immediately ran out to find the person who lost 'em. No one that came to that diner had teeth so it coulda been anyone but there was an old man looking quite distressed just outside. I go out and say in my best 1940-50ish movie kid voice, "Gee Mister, are ya looking for these?" I held out my hand and showed him the dentures. He started to cry. Then he hit them out of my hand and walked away. It took every ounce of restraint I had to not shove 'em up his ass. I should've done that, though. "Hey Mr. Higgins, nice smile you got there!"

I drove a taxi cab for 2 years. I picked up this lady and she says, "Take me to the red cross, I'd like to donate blood." What I meant to say was, "Oh, that time again?" and leave it at that. But what came out was, "Oh, is it that time of month again?" After an umcomfortable silence, I burst out laughing and she did too, thank god. Then she said that it was, indeed, that time of month for her. "Excellent," I said, " when we have sex in the back seat, you won't get pregnant!"She didn't laugh that time nor did she pay me.

I sold stuffed Teddy Bears at a stuffed Teddy Bear place. Now, I can put on the charm when I need to, but it gets tough to fake a smile everyday for 8 hours a day even when you're puting together a gift basket for someone with Lupus. But a Teddy Bear is something nice to give to someone who already has everything.

My worst job was dipping broom handles in a bucket of paint. I did that for 2 months fresh out of high school. I was also only one of two guys who spoke English and the other guy was a severe pot head who loved asking the big questions like "how could 7-11 charge so little for such great hamburgers." The rest of the employees were Philipino immigrants who I'm pretty sure were as legal as Absynthe is in Utah.

My current job is the best. I get to watch movies. I watch roughly 2 a day at work but I've developed very snobbish attitudes toward films. For one, I call them 'films' instead of 'movies.' And if a film has David Arquette associated with it in anyway, I immediately feel angry and I throw things.

k, bo fo no

No foot foto, freaks

Holy crap, I almost forgot to put a blog entry up today! (thanks cory)

K, no foot foto today. I had to clean out my work computer because "the man" has been hinting at checking out our work pc's so my pictures folder is almost empty, except for a picture of the teletubbies for some reason. Seriously, I found a picture I had of the Telletubbies on my computer. I can't think of why I saved it. Maybe I needed to do something for a kid's birthday or I was gonna phot-shop their image onto Mt. Rushmore to see if it would look cool. I dunno.

I do this blog thing strictly at work, every morning, for a couple of reasons. One reason is because I just like to have some time to kinda be a little creative. I don't wanna sound art faggy or pretentious, but I seriously do everything creative for my own personal amusement. I've been involved in sharing my "art" (fuck, I hate that term) with folks and while I've always had decent responses to it, I've never really overly enjoyed the experience.

Another reason is to get those thoughts of working for the gov't out of my head. It really does suck having to do the shit the gov't asks you to do. Yeah, yeah, I get paid very well to do it, I sometimes enjoy it but it is in no way, shape or form my life's meaning. Working is something I do to pay for pizza every now and then.

Not a big entry today nor is it particularly funny but at least it's something. I gotta head back and do some shit and stuff. I love you people. Don't ever forget that!!!

K, bye bye and buy bonds.

Where oh where have my testicles gone?

Feb. 16/06 - The temperature outside is -40 C with the windchill (for my American friends that's -178 F. Just kiddin. To be serious, -42 C and -42 F are the same temp. so that gives you an idea of what its like here). I stepped outside to have a smoke and a coffee and was greeted by Old Man Winter who seemed to have taken a vacation this year but showed up on my doorstep and made my testicles dissapear when I went outside. He's a regular magician.

"The Amazing Old Man Winternio! Watch this prestidigitator make testicles dissapear and elongate nipples!"

Still no snow, though. Alberta without snow is like a bear without fur - it's ugly, unrecognizeable, and you can't ski down it. White Christmas? My ass. No, really... it looks like my ass outside. Speaking of which, I need a bleaching.

I hear businesses related to snow are having a tough time this year but hookers have seen record profits. In "Ho Today" magazine, the editor Gwen L Yufukmee, reported that "girls aren't afraid to freeze so they're out there. And as we say in the business, 'The more you go down, the more your profits go up."

Alot of people seem worried about the state of the planet and global warming. Crazy but loveable Canadian environmentalist David Suzuki has moved to Thule Greenland because he thinks the Ozone Layer is in better shape there and he can continue to catch healthy, non-toxic fish with his bare hands. Actually, David Suzuki looks exactly like a bear with no fur. He is one!
You heard it here first, folks.

K, buy fur now

I could probably learn Mandarin easier than "Teen Girl Speak"

My wife found a note in my almost 13 year old son's pants while dilligently doing laundry as I lay on the couch watching Mythbusters. The gist of the note SEEMS (i emphasized for a reason) to be that my son made this poor girl feel like shit by being an asshole.

But I know my kid and he's never been an asshole. On the other hand, people change when they get into relationships. But on the other, other hand, grade 7 girls are as rational as Sybil on a bad day. On the other, other, other hand, my son is my son and I've been an asshole before so he must be capable of it too.

But getting back to the incoherence of the letter, here's a sample of what was written,

(*Note - the apostrophes around the o's signify the devil horns she included)

"Wen u went w me -----> :) t'o' the sh'o'w eye was :)!!!!!!!!! Now ur all fucked up??? WH'o'aaa, it wazza Kevin wh'o' left L'o'ri all by her____!! t'o' git da c'o'rns. Why did hed'o' wa he d'o'??? And then *BANG* ur like 'shuddup!' :( H'o'w d'o' u think I'm p'o'se to feel like? :(:(:(:( Answer me if u want but u pr'o'lly w'o'nt but u shud. Bi Bi."

I asked my wife who Bi Bi was but my she got it right away. She says "That it means Bye Bye, not bee bee." I really thought it was pronounced bee bee. Hmmm, only girls can understand girls.

My son only wrote one thing on that entire page and I gotta give him credit because this is what he wrote back:

"Wow, it sounds like your pissed."

What a good kid! No bizarre wording and his sentence made sense. Then she responded with more of the other stuff but I got a headache. I was just so happy I understood what he wrote and it was legible! But how do I tell him that he'll experience that exact argument throughout his entire life?

So I think he was being a jerk to this girl but she could very well be that crazy grade 7 chick who threatens suicide everytime her boyfriend breaks up with her but then another guy comes along and she forgets to kill herself and is "sooooo in love!" all of a sudden.

It's tough being a teenager. It's must be tougher being an English teacher.

Lick my balls, Hallmark!

We're kinda broke around our household and I can't afford alot, so my Valentine's gift to my wife will be me telling her how much I love her here on my blog. She should know I love her alot but just to cover my ass, I want to say that I love you sweetie and Hallmark Cards can lick my balls.

There's only one woman I've ever truly loved and that's my wife Kathleen (sorry Mom but you weaned me off the breast too early - according to Dr. Ettinger). Kathleen is the Bee's Knees, the Cat's Pyjamas, the Show and Tell, the Albino's Wine, the Chicken's Spit, the Bridge Over the River Kwai, and also the best lay I've ever had (honest honey, you are!). One time, our sex was soo good that when I tried to stand up afterward, my knees gave out and I fell right into the lifeguard on duty at the pool. (Wacka wacka wacka)

Holding her hand as we walk down the street on a Sunday afternoon is probably the greatest feeling for me. It's like I'm saying, "Hey losers, look at me! I got the hottest chick in the world and she's touching my hand! What do you say to that, freak-faces?" Then I spit at the people as they pass because they suck and I have a woman that makes me a better person.

We have two beautiful children together. They're both boys. They laugh when I make fart noises with my armpit. So does Kathleen. It's when I make the fart noises out of the spot where genuine fart noises eminate that she gets pissed off but that's understandable. I mean, I'm trying hard not to grab her hair and pull her face to my buttocks region, but it's hard not to when you're me and trust me, I'm me. How come Hallmark doesn't have Dutch Oven Valentine's card? I know why they don't, it's because they're too busy lickin my balls.

My wife sings nicely but she doesn't think she can sing at all. She should be on American Idol. Then when she gets to the audition, she can lez out with Paula Abdul and we'll have it on tape and replay it. Or she can make out with that large African American feller, whats-his-face, and I won't ever replay it until he's brought up on sexual assault charges and we can sue and I can buy her a proper Valentine's present. She won't "git wit" Simon though because we've talked it over and I won't stand for it! He's a limey, you know.

So lick my balls, Hallmark! I won't be buying any of your cards this year because I believe I've just said everything I've wanted to say to the most precious woman on the planet, here in my blog today. And it didn't cost me a friggin' dime!

In conclusion, I just want to say with sincere love (geez, I'm getting teary eyed now), I love you Kathleen and lick my balls Hallmark.

K, lick my balls Hallmark. Just lick 'em. Num num.

Phonin' it in!

This weekend was a bit of a going away party for a gentleman I mentioned in an earlier entry, Paul Myerhaug. We had a fantastic time because we partied like it was '99!

Not 1999 but 1799.

We all donned our best powdered wigs, corsets, fop gear and went out and pretended we were extremely debauched, 18th century French Aristocrats.

The first place we hit was an English style pub with a piano player who had a drum machine. He played excellent songs like Mony Mony and everyone yelled out "Hey mother fucker, get laid, get fucked!" Boy, I never get sick of that nor do I ever get sick of the drunk sitting by himself who will stagger into you and tell ya how today's generation is responsible for everything from rampent crime to sickle cell anemia.

After that, we headed to a strip bar. The lady who had her legs wrapped around a pole noticed us dandies and when her "set" was finished, she invited us up to her hotel room. We all thought we had reached heaven but it turns out she just wanted to tell us about an exciting new income opportunity. I'm sure it was viable but I didn't hear a word as I was concentrating on her stunning labia.

Then we did some other stuff that I don't want to get into but let's just say Meyerhaug looks fantastic in a studded codpiece.

K, I'm gonna try and catch some sleep and think of a better blog entry idea for tomorrow.

Bouy fernow.

Al Franken is a liar! Ann Coulter is right!

That blog title up there was a test or "bait" if you will, to see if I could lure Al Franken to this page.

In one of the funniest books ever written "Lies and The Lying Liars Who Tell Them," he mentions blogs so I thought he may periodically Google his name and eventually find his way here. If you did get here Al, could you leave me Parker Posey's home number if you know her? I think she's cute.

If Ann got here, could you fuck off and die?

Thanks to both of you for hearing me out.

Friday's Fun Fotograph For Fellow Fans of Feet Vol. 5

Hi all. I have a cold today and I feel like crap so deal with it. Here's some foot-related fotos.


Rock shaped like boot



Bigfoot


Italy


Crow's Feet.


This is a record! This entry took me 10 minutes to create!

K, bye for now and wish me well.

Happy Impending Love Day!

Hey, would ya look at that? Next week is another holiday that pressures me into being pressured into buying something with meaning when really all I can do is take a guess and hope that a potential blow-job doesn't turn into absolute dissapointment.

I've been pretty good over the years, though. I usually manage (at the last minute) to find something that seems to work. Right honey? Sure.

But I'm not perfect and I admit that I have made some bad purchasing decisions during holidays. Here's a few I'll cop to in the hopes that I'll save some poor wretch from fuckin' up like me.

Rented a motel room for romance
If you read that quickly and thought nothing of it, let me highlight the bad word - "motel". Yeah, not a hotel. Not even a motel with a name. It was just called "Motel". Actually, with the neon letters that were burnt out it was called 'Mo_ e_ '. And having a drink in the bar called "Tavern" next door to it was a mistake as well (and in no way does my wife look like a truck stop prostitute. But you try and tell the roughnecks trying to buy her -and I quote- "a fag drink" that she's not, and boy oh boy your in for some trouble). Oh well, live and learn, eh? In my defence though, it was in the nicer section of the industrial district.

Spa Package
That sure sounds nice - my beautiful wife getting pampered and all that. Very nice indeed. But guess what? Purchasing that certificate which plainly reads "no refunds" taught me that a "bath house" is most often frequented by men who wear risque biker outfits, outfits regular bikers wouldn't dare wear. Rarely will you see a Hell's Angel wearing chaps without pants underneath. The gentleman at the front desk was very friendly to me though, and their rainbow logo was nicely designed.

Exotic Fruit Basket
No, I'm not talking about the bath house again. I mean an actual basket of actual fruit. All I'm gonna say about this is that you should really check for dead AND alive turantulas before you wrap it up. On a side note, Chamomile Tea does not soothe the nerves as well as they claim, especially when it turns out she's allergic to it. But fennel is a great detoxifier.

Collection of Love Poems by Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson spent alot of her writing time figuring out how to make men unable to live up to the romantic ideal she had.

And why can't these poets just come out and say what they mean?

WILD nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port,—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee! - Emily Dickinson

It seems to me she either wants her man to make her cum like a porn star ("wild nights should be our luxury"), or she wants to strap one on and do him in the butt (Might I but moor tonight in thee"). I'm not sure. All I know is that I wasn't capable of doing either.


So there ya go. Just promise me son not to do the things I've done. Just walk away from trouble if you can by buying her some smelly, foamy bath shit. Lavender is always a nice smell.

Khai, buy fer nouw.

2 legs good, 4 legs bad.

The title of today's blog entry comes from either George Orwell's "Animal Farm" or David Lee Roth's "Just Like Paradise," I can never remember. But I think its appropriate because I realized today that I'm a follower and not a leader. I mean, I knew it all along, but I think today I can just come out and admit it to you, my mother - the only reader of this blog - that I'm as original as Sinbad (the comedian, not the male stripper).

I dunno.

As you may or may not know, I started this blog about a month ago but I really did not know how many of these things are out there. I thought, 'Hey, I'll blog along with the 150 or so other bloggers out there and it'll be fun.' I've discovered that 150 is a number soo comparitively small, that microeconomists would compare my figure with the actual number and laugh themselves into a career in automotive repair. I mean, if just blogs dedicated to crappy poetry and superficial comments on American politics were trees,
the number would be a billion times 3
and the gov't would fall to it's knees,
you see?

My point is that there are a whole whack of people who have a blog. And it raises some very important questions for a guy who wants to stand out, questions like, "How do I stand out?"

I suppose I could dedicate this space to something I'm passionate about, but a blog about handicapped midget scat sex already exists (no link here, just google it ya lazy ass).

I thought my Friday Foot picture would be amusing but it seems some dick-wad in Kentucky has been doing that for a couple years now and he gets 10 times the amount of comments on his blog.

I dunno.

Am I having a crisis here? Is this the point of my life where I question my existence in this Bloggiverse? Do I take the easy way out and commit Bloggicide or do I soldier on like a soldier who's been decieved by his leaders? Do I pick up a book by Noam Blogsky in an effort to find the grotesque underbelly of Blog, thereby thinking I can change the bloggiverse from within?

I dunno.

K, bye for now I guess.

1000 minus 700 hits on my blog page!

I just took a look at the number of hits my blog has received and it has 1000 hits! I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you all but mostly myself for refreshing the page alot.

Ohhh, the memories! It seems like only a month ago I started this thing and I can't believe how successful it's become. Wow!

Here's the math: I have 29 entries.
1000 hits
700 of them mine
so
300 hits/29 entries (I'll make it 30 for easier math)
equals
10 views/entry

ergo

I have 10 friends!!!!! Wow, that's like 20 more friends than I had in high school!!!

Thanks 10 friends! I love you soo much!

It ain't Haiku but it'll still melt your brain!

If you ever find yourself in a government job and are saddened by the realization that your soul is being slowly destroyed with every passing second, do what I do - take a popular song and go to babelfish.com and type in (line by line) the lyrics of the song and translate it from English to Japanese then back into English from the Japanese!

I did 2 songs. See if you can guess which songs they are!

Anyone is there?

We do not need education
We do not need thought control
There is no sarcasm where the classroom is dark
The teacher shoots the child to those
Just a little! The Teacher shoots the child to those!
Another brick of all walls of all fairness
Another brick of all walls of all fairness
(repeat this once more)

(**Here's where the teacher speaks**)
You were wrong, do for the second time that!
If "your meat is not eaten, it cannot eat the pudding
Your meat? If "you do not eat, how it can eat the pudding?
As for rear of the shed of the motorcycle it is,
Raises the quiet young person!



Here's another one:

Rudolph riendeer of red nose
It had the nose which has gloss very
When and you look at that
It means that that shines

Everything of other riendeer
Name amuse him, the use which is called
Never bad Rudolph does not try those that
does not connect with the game of all reindeer

Then one fog deep Christmas Eve
Santa saying it came
Rudolph of the bright your nose
so tonight my sleigh which is led?

Then riendeer everything loved him
As them joy shouted,
It goes with reindeer history
of the Rudolph red nose!


K, bye for now!!

*Answers: 1st song - Another Brick in the Wall Part 6: The Revenge
2nd song: Seasons in the Sun

I Have So Much More Than Love Inside Me

I realized today that I've been neglecting to update everyone on my pregnancy. So today's entry is all about that and frankly, much more.

I should begin by saying that my belly is growing fast and so far the doctors are saying everything is where it should be and I can expect an uncomplicated delivery. The ultrasounds are all normal and I'm just starting to feel it kick now. I know I can't wait to hear our baby laugh or cry and I'm sure my wife can't wait either but you know how women are - so afraid to let their feelings be known. But I know she's getting excited because she can't seem to stop touching my belly. She insists that I'm even more sexy than the first day we met and I do wish I could believe her but God bless her for at least trying to make me feel better.

I remember the night we conceived. It had to be that night because my sex drive for a month or so prior was simply non-existent. She did make that night special and though I was totally not into it at first, I quickly warmed up to the possibilities she so gently hinted at.

It all started with a wonderful, low carb/high protein steak dinner with a lovely shrimp cocktail she made, and a fantastic bottle of Bordeaux. She even put on a gorgeous sun dress and this perfume that always had an intoxicating effect on me. I could tell she wanted intimacy by the looks she gave me as our eyes met over the flicker of the candles aglow in our pewter candelabra and frankly, I was about due for some intimacy myself. I believe I even rushed my meal a little as the thought of sharing myself with her became more and more exciting.

Our conversation during dinner was more intimate than usual too, and I really think it had an effect on how I behaved that glorious, amazing night. We talked of our hopes, our dreams, our jobs, our magazine subscriptions; I think I fell in love all over again! She really was the person I'd first met and not some stranger that occupied the bed, as I had thought only days before. I was full on ready for passion by the time we finished our pistachio gelato.

She wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin and stood up and looked at me, her eyes penetrating my very soul. She walked around the table and lifted me into her arms and carried me to the bedroom. I could feel her muscles bulging almost as much as I was, if you know what I mean.

She gently let me down onto the bed as a feather falls gently to the ground when let go in the autumn breeze. I opened myself up to her, daring her to take me. And she did. Oh, she did! I felt her smooth skin flush against my own, her dominating, feminine presence as she lay atop me - covering me with her womanliness. It struck me for a moment that I needed to feel like a man again and the only one capable of giving that to me was the woman I loved. Needless to say, she accomplished that.

We made love that night but we made much more. We made our baby.
The baby that grows inside me.
The baby we both love.


My only wish now is that she'd get the hint and go out and buy me some fucking Turkish Delight.

Kayyyy, bye for now.

Friday's Fun Foot Fotograph For Fellow Fans Of Feet (Vol.4)

Last Friday, I talked a little about Mariah Carey's wonderful feet and it got me to thinking that I should spend today's space showing off some other famous women's feet. The difference is that today, the women shown here have much more substance than Mariah and are far more attractive because of it.

Enjoy folks, and have a very pleasant weekend.





Sexy feet are much sexier when sexy legs accompany them. Jessica Rabbit of Who Framed Roger Rabbit certainly proves that!












The futuristic toe-beauty of Jane Jetson will certainly be something future generations of women will want to emmulate!

And who could forget the lovely duo that spawned many a young boy's 3-some fantasies, Betty Rubble and Wilma Flintstone!

Ooh la la, You know Lois Griffin is into pretty much anything!

Oil me up Olive and calls me Brutus! Ga ga ga ga ga!

K, bye for now

Memories of Paul

Normally I'm not prone to silly little outbursts of sentimentallity, but ah shucks, I just have to take a stroll down Rue Memory.

My friend Paul is leaving the town (Edmonton, Alberta, Canada) where he currently lives and is moving to Toronto to become a big time jack hammer operator. We've had a lot of memories together and I'd just like to share some of the highlights with you.

Memories:

Remember the time we tried to eat that homeless person? Wow, that was some crazy stuff. What was really funny was that we couldn't find a clean fork anywhere! Remember we tried to use that plastic fork but the tongs kept breaking off so we just decided to take his shoes? I totally l-o-l-ed my ass off when you put them on and ran through the inner city yelling, "HUMP ME NOW WHILE I'M STILL FRESH!"

Remember when you, Kerry, Damon, and I all slept with Lee Aaron on the same night and we only had one condom? I'm welling up as I type.

I remember when you passed out at that party in Calgary and Cory Mack thought it would be funny to put your hand in warm water so you'd pee yourself but all we had was a coffee tin full of battery acid. Now your ring falls off all the time and we all call you "Mr. Bare-knuckle boxer man."

Hey Paul, remember when we went golfing with Paul Sveen and I kept calling you Paul but I was reffering to Paul Sveen, not you? You never did notice but I felt silly about that. Sorry.

One of my favorite memories was the very first time I met you. You came up to me and said, "Hi there."
You nut!

Remember when we started that band and we were jamming in Kerry's garage and you came up with that tune that went "Whatcha gonna do with all that junk, all that junk in your trunk?" And I replied, "I'm gonna git git git you drunk." Then it was stolen by that other band and we couldn't prove in court that we wrote it nor could we really remember if it was something we came up with first or that we were just sooo baked that we may have transposed the present and the past?

Remember when we followed the Rev. Jim Jones to Guyana and just as everyone was keeling over from the poison, you yelled out "Hey Kool-Ade!" and that big red ewer came out of the walls and we swore we'd never drop acid again?

Remember when I wore your pants because, well, they were your pants?

I hope you have an excellent, rewarding time in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. I don't know if you're going there to find success or what, but just know that you're the kind of fella who success will find on its own no matter where you go (except maybe Piapot Saskatchewan).

We will surely miss you!

K, bye for now Paul.

P.S. This turned far too sappy. Maybe tomorrow I'll talk about 'drunk sex' or something.

Let's get philosophical!

There are two types of people in this world: Me, and everyone else.

I'm not so self involved to think that everyone else exists simply to create the atmosphere in which I exist, no. And on the flip-side of that, I know...I KNOW I'm not put on this planet to cater to you (and by "you" I mean the other 4.9999999999999999999999 billion people living on this dirt-ball).

Do you want to know why I'm here?

That's right, you guessed it - I was put on this planet to have hobbies!

I'm sure one day I'm going to want to include "pondering the bigger questions" as one of my hobbies but right now, I'm into woodworking. I guess that's slightly Jesus-like, but I could never take that next step and try to gain a mass following. And let's not even get into turning water into wine. Hell, last time I made Kool-ade it was way too sweet.

I was big into physics there for awhile. I took a standard approach to trying to learn it but it all became too much. I figured I'd start out with basic Galileo dropping stuff off a rooftop, then moving to apples falling from trees, and then onto E=MC squared. It sounds easy enough but Christ on crutches, it doesn't take long before you find yourself reading about particle physics or string theory and thinking "I would much rather have my testicles nawed off by badgers than try and comprehend this stuff." Plus, I gained 35lbs trying to learn. Every time they referenced Pi, I got hungry (baddum ching).

Making plastic models was a lot of fun until I started putting the glue in paper bags and huffing instead of putting it on the tail of my Spitfire or the steering wheel of my Porsche 911.

I learned many, many things when I got into my conspiracy theory phase. I learned that aliens have given the American government the ability to make Zero Point Energy propulsion machines, I've learned that there is a huge population of people living underground who run everything above ground, and I learned that I really couldn't give a shit about any of it. But it is fun to read, I'll admit that.
(*Note - did you know that we're all born with a 6 ounce chunk of gold in our butts and doctors aren't really spanking babies, they're stealing the gold to give to "The One They Call Mortimer"?)

There are still many things I'd like to take up as a hobby but haven't found the time. In no particular order, here are some fun things you might want to try:

Tear Collecting - make your friends cry then collect a tear from each one. It'd be the saddest scrapbook ever!

Arm bending - go on, bend your arm!

Razor Blade crafts - make different things using razor blades! (but not if you have Parkinson's disease)

Grave Robbing - this lost hobby is just waiting to be re-discovered!

Passive S & M - don't spank his/her ass, just look at it and wish it harm

Firestarting - develop the talent of setting things ablaze with your mind.


Anyway, that's my philosophy!

K, bye for now.

P.S.
Oh yeah, there's another hobby you can take on. Start with an idea like your personal philosophy then go!, then look back on it after you're done and wonder how you got from point A to point Q.