I didn’t get much sleep last night. I woke up at 2 am to the repetitive chant of some hoarse tranny hooker encouraging her pimp to “Get him Daddy! Get him Daddy!”
Over and over and over until I finally got up. STFU Tranny! Thrashing out of my sheets, I jumped out of bed to see what the fuss was about and lo and behold, it was some pimp swinging a pipe toward some other pimp. Standard Saturday night recreation. In these instances I usually keep a half stick of unsalted Land-o-Lakes butter on hand to throw down on the street creatures that keep me up, but alas, I used the last of it on some lemon pepper salmon for dinner – it was delicious.
Butter is my preferred weapon when dealing with loud hookers and street noise. The last time I tried to use a water balloon the fucking thing exploded against the window frame and completely soaked me – standing there shirtless in wet boxers – not my proudest moment. So from now on it’s strictly butter. Even if frozen, it won’t crack any skulls like sweet potatoes, and if I can get it to smack down within a few feet of them they usually scatter like roaches.
The Zebra. Nature’s cold shower. Consider that a tiger-striped thong is fundamentally sexier than a zebra-striped thong, yet it’s basically the same pattern… not necessarily because the color orange is sexier than the color white, but because I assume tigers don’t shit on their own tails like stupid zebras.
Tigers also have a lethal set of razor sharp teeth that allow it to hunt and kill. Cool! Zebras have teeth for biting at the flies hitching a ride on their ass. Not cool.
Retractable tiger claws are badass! That’s why the Wolverine comic character is so successful. I doubt if he had retractable zebra hooves he’d be fighting much crime or drawing crowds to the cinema. He’d just be out galloping around like an idiot blocking traffic and tearing up the neighbor’s flowerbed. Nothing is less sexy than a hoof. It’s just a toenail growing out of it’s leg.
Yesterday I was sipping some delicious green jasmine tea, enjoying the afternoon sun as it pleasantly beamed through my apartment window. How peaceful. It had been a long week and I definitely needed the rest and relaxation.
Unfortunately, this serene moment was shattered by horrific thoughts. Adrenaline now surged through my veins, my palms began to sweat and my heart raced anxiously …did Richard Gere really put a gerbil up his ass!?
If the rumor is true, how in the hell did this info leak to the public!? Why does my tea time tranquility have to be arrested because Richard Gere wanted some frantic domesticated house pet funneled into his butt? Why not a fuzzy little shrew Richard? Or a mole? At least with a mole you’d have a streamlined snout versus contending with some gerbil’s jagged buck teeth and broad cranial structure.
I think if I ever wanted to take my tea drinking to the next level and sit on a small mammal, I’m pretty damn sure I could prevent the entire internet from knowing about it. Thank you Richard for spoiling my moment of zen.
Well here we are at the end of another wonderful year. Yes, 2012 had it’s ups and downs, a lot of laughs and a lot of tears but overall very prosperous and rewarding. Here are some highlights from the past year:
Date: Sat, Nov 17, 2012 at 6:20PM
Subject: RE: Lease renewal
I’m still trying to decide. I’ve grown quite accustomed to the bedbugs or whatever keeps eating me alive in the middle of the night here in your dilapidated shelter. I guess we’ll never know since you won’t send in a professional to look into the problem like I had asked over 3 months ago. Then again, I haven’t had companionship in almost a year now. It’s nice to have another living being put it’s mouth on me at night.
Celebrities wake up in the morning to songbirds and sunshine, they rise from the pillow with really cool looking hair and breath reminiscent of mint and vanilla bean. Most of us spend the morning trying to transform ourselves from weather-beaten Yeti into something resembling a human being. The rich and famous have no concept of this daily struggle in front of the mirror. No ingrown hairs, callouses, acne, razor burn or bug bites. They never have to tease, comb and primp like the rest of us asymmetrical jackasses – their beauty is natural. Should’ve been born a celebrity.
Most of us spend the last hour of REM sleep dreaming about something far from reality, like: oh yes I’m really about to stick it into my sultry biology professor with the thick thighs right on her desk, she’s got one large bare breast popping out of her blazer and her skirt is hiked up revealing nothing but pink wet perfectly trimmed heaven – you clear her desk in one swoop of the arm and instantly wake to find your goldfish flapping around on the carpet and your alarm clock short circuiting in a pool of dirty water and broken glass. Your real life is no dream buddy. You’re never gonna bone the teacher and your late for work – should’ve been born a celebrity.
You probably drive a Ford Focus or Prius don’t you? Celebrities look down on thee for such lowly simpleton things. Driving a Prius to them would be like travelling on a 3-legged horse with diarrhea and a hornet’s nest on each stirrup. Driving a Ford would be like holding onto that same horse’s tail and just letting it drag you to your destination. Totally beneath them – you should’ve been born a celebrity.
And on and on it goes… the clothes, the parties, the money… the sad part is, you could find a cure for Cancer and AIDS in the same day and still not become a celebrity. No, you’d have to do something really special for the world like… be hot.