Going down to Baltimore/ going in an off-white Honda


Posted in zombies, necrophilia, jokes, contests, potty humor, meta blogging, games, jesus is fo' shizzle, atheism! by Anonymous Coworker at 1:53 pm on Friday, January 13th, 2006

I’m not really sure how to deal with being a finalist for the Most Humorous Blog award for the 2006 Best of Blogs award thing. For one thing, there are some other folks who I think would have been much better choices for the finals because they crack me up on a daily basis, while I continue to make jokes about poop. Dick and fart jokes are my bread and butter. Those other bloggers who should have been in the finals are all class. At the same time I seem to put the “ass” in “class”.

I guess this all is my way of saying, “Shucks, I’d be honored if you voted for me, even though you’re probably hilariouser than I am.”

My opponents might try to “Swift Boat” me, but I’m going to stop them from doing that here and now by admitting something to you, the voting public. Yes, I manually masturbate animals for a living. Yes, I do it while in full kabuki attire. Yes, I frequently kill puppies and kittens on my way to work and eat a fresh, human baby (white) for lunch each day. Yes, I take time off for Satanic holidays. Yes, I love my job.

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Posted in horror, meta blogging, devil cat, suhmuhmuh bitch by Anonymous Coworker at 9:51 am on Friday, January 13th, 2006

I don’t have a single unified post in my head right now, but I do have a few unrelated smaller posts. Rather than try to force them together into a single surrealistic narrative, I’m just going to put them up on their own. Like three puzzle pieces to three different puzzles.

1) A while ago the Wombat and BJB were talking about what gets BJB motivated to run on the treadmill, and one of the two of them suggested imagining Gary Busey chasing after them with a raging hard-on. Most normal people would have left it at that, but I’m not normal. I wondered what Gary Busey would do if he caught up to you.

Of course he would make sweet, sweaty love to you. Everyone knows that. But what would he do AFTER that. I imagine he would lean over your shoulder (because you know Busey would have gotten you from behind) and gently whisper into your ear at the top of his lungs, “Yeah! Yee haw! You just got Busey’d! Yeah! BUSEY’D!” Then he would hop off of you and yell, “I’m hungry. Somebody get me some dog food!”

2) Last night Sherlock was being annoying so we kicked him out of the bedroom before we went to sleep. At about 3 in the morning I was awakened by a strange sound.

jingle jingle jingle WHACK
jingle jingle jingle WHACK

Apparently Sherlock had carried one of his jingle-ball toys up the stairs and was having a grand old time smacking it against the door. He was hitting the toy hard enough that he was actually causing the door to move a little bit. It was like he was practicing taking shots on goal, and he didn’t care that he kept hitting the goalie. Stupid cat. I waited for the next jingle and then I opened the door just as he was taking his shot. He seemed surprised that the door had opened, and looked up at me.

“I keep it now,” I said as I closed the door in his face.

3) It’s Friday the 13th. Is Jason going to kill you? Probably. How did his day start today? I’d like to imagine it went something like this:

“Jason? Jason, honey, get out of bed.”
“What? What day is it?”
“It’s Friday the 13th, you have a long day of killing ahead of you.”
“Uggh. Where’s my machete? I shouldn’t have had so many white-wine spritzers last night.”
“You were pretTY drunk.”
“Can I ask you a question, Freddy?”
“Sure thing sweetie.”
“We didn’t uh, you know, do anything, did we?”
“Well, I did leave a few claw marks on your back.”
“Damn! Now Mike Meyers is going to find out and I’m going to be sleeping on the couch for a week. I never should have gone to Leatherface’s baby-shower last night.”
“You’re such a bitch when you’re hungover. Just take your back of severed limbs and get out of here.”

I have no idea why I chose to make the Jason, Freddy, Mike Meyers, and Leatherface into queens.

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Shootin’ the poop

Posted in work, potty humor by Anonymous Coworker at 2:36 pm on Thursday, January 12th, 2006

I’m not the type that likes to talk while going to the bathroom. I think that when your body is in the midst of excreting a substance, all attention should be paid to that task, lest that substance end up somewhere it does not belong.

Apparently, my coworker does not agree with me. We, unfortunately, entered the bathroom at the same time and he made a bee-line for the stall while I headed for the urinal for a little target practice. At first everything was fine, but then he started talking about a PTA meeting he had recently attended


and he went on at length about the regulations that were brought up


and how they would effect students enrolling at a local high school for the next six years if they were allowed to be put into action. He said he had signed up to comment at the meeting


but too many people before him spoke for too long and he didn’t get a chance to speak


so he would have to write a letter to the school board instead.

By this time I had already washed and dried my hands and was ready to be done with the whole ordeal, but he started talking about RAKING LEAVES! I wasn’t sure how long I had to humor him, but I was having trouble keeping from falling on the ground laughing or throwing up. It was at this point that someone else walked into the bathroom while he was a gruntin’ and a talkin’ and I used the opportunity to escape. I hope the other guy that came in was ready for a conversation, because old squat-and-plop was ready to do some talking.

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Just like Jesus, but he delivers pizzas

Posted in zombies, movies, jesus is fo' shizzle by Anonymous Coworker at 10:12 am on Thursday, January 12th, 2006

Sometimes your world goes grey. Everything seems like a chore. Nothing you do is fulfilling in any way. Food tastes bland, your life is boring, and you can’t shake an overwhelming feeling of dread.

Life has you by the nuts, and you can’t help but notice that Life’s hands are cold. Cold and unfriendly. Cold, and unfriendly, and tying you down so that you can’t move when Life decides to jump on your balls with ugly platform disco shoes with dead fish in the heels.

No, I haven’t seen Hostel yet. Why do you ask?

However, every now and then somebody comes along and does something so nice, and so unexpected, that you can’t help but think the world is a better place.

So, Mr. Snay, thank you for sending me this. It’s awesome, and you’ve restored my faith in humanity. May your tips be nothing but fellatio and handfuls of twenties for the rest of your days.

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In light of the previous post…

Posted in music by Anonymous Coworker at 9:07 am on Thursday, January 12th, 2006

I give you “War on Drugs” by Laughing Colors:

It was long ago, seems like a dream
the day I sucked the air from a bottle of whipped cream
and I got real high, and things got real slow
and I started talking like this
What’s going on, I don’t know

and then I sold my car for Grateful Dead ticket
and my dad yelled at me and he grounded me
and he said I was a dick- it was the worst day of my life

and I’ll never forget,
that the very next day
I was doing bong hits in the back of my friend’s Chevette

so don’t tell me, we’re winning the war on drugs
cause drugs are like a big old can of “Raid”
and you’re all little bugs

and don’t tell me, to not get high
cause I’m as low as I can get without kissing your ass
and blowing you at the same time

man don’t tell me about love and peace
when one of the joneses has a hand gun pointed at me
don’t tell me to “just say no”
I’m an addict, I’m saying no to letting it go
whatever happened to sex drugs and rock n roll
now we just have aids, crack and techno

so they busted me, for selling dope
and they said I had the right to remain silent
but they couldn’t explain
why I didn’t resist and I wasn’t violent
cause all I ever wanted was the right to remain

and they questioned me
yeah they asked me…why?And I said…
“I don’t think I should be shot for selling pot
it’s just my little way of saying HIGH

now my record’s all fucked up
and I’m not allowed to vote
and two times a week they make me piss in a cup
when what I want to do is piss down their throat

man don’t tell me about love and peace
when one of the joneses has a hand gun pointed at me
don’t tell me to “just say no”
I’m an addict, I’m saying no to letting it go

whatever happened to sex drugs and rock n roll
now we just have aids, crack and techno

Ok here’s the sensitive part…

and they told me that times have changed
cause our parents have Hendrix, Janis and Jim but
what about Chris Farley and Kurt Cobain?

and they told me, to praise the lord
but I’ve been waiting so long for him to call me back
I think I’m going to go pray at Betty Ford

and they told me, that life is fair
but I can’t smoke a plant that was made by God
but I can kill my wife if I’m a football player

yeah they told me
to just ignore
but I’d rather smoke crack out of Nancy Reagan’s skull
while getting a blow job from Tipper Gore

man don’t tell me about love and peace
when one of the joneses has a hand gun pointed at me
don’t tell me to “just say no”
I’m an addict, I’m saying no to letting it go

whatever happened to sex drugs and rock n roll
now we just have aids, crack and techno

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It’s not weed, it’s catnip

Posted in ACWF, devil cat by Anonymous Coworker at 3:16 pm on Wednesday, January 11th, 2006

A friend of mine owns a pet-supply store in Baltimore. I’d link to it, but they don’t have a website. And I’d link to a Whitepages listing, but the shop is so new they don’t have that either. Regardless, ACWF and I stopped in to visit the shop just before Christmas so we could (sigh) purchase presents for Sherlock. (First of all, cats have no sense of ownership, so presents are just ridiculous. They already think they own everything, so anything new is just going to be theirs anyway. Secondly, cats have no sense of holiday. How do we know our cat celebrates Christmas? He might be a Kwanzaa kitty, or a mouse-catching menorah-minder. Third, cats have no sense of what a gift is. They just think a gift is something that they own but can’t get to because it’s hung up in a stocking.) But, I wanted to support a local business and a friend, so we bought some stuff from them.

Moving on. While at the store we picked up some awesome catnip, as well as a toy that we were sure he couldn’t destroy. It’s made from the same material that NASA uses to make astronaut codpieces. It’s this big ball with a track in it that holds a smaller ball that holds catnip. And it jingles. Sherlock goes apeshit for jingly stuff. He can’t even control himself. This morning ACWF jingled one of his toys and he looked up from eating and pieces of whole and half-chewed kibble actually FELL OUT OF HIS MOUTH. So I decided to fill his new toy with catnip and let him have a go at it.

The first thing I did was add the nip. As you can see here we got the good stuff. Just buds, no stems or seeds. Though it is kind of swag-ish. We’ll have to find a dealer with better dimes next time. Yes, that’s Bob Marley in the background.

I added the nip to the interior ball, taking in the aromatic and hemp-like bouquet. I never know exactly how to describe it. It’s like tea and… feet.

I packed a fat bowl… BALL, I mean ball, with catnip.

I set the ball down so Sherlock could get to it and take a hit.

We discovered that Sherlock, already twice as bonkers as the average cat on cracknip, reacts to catnip by chilling out, mellowing, and developing a craving for a huge bowl of Golden Grahams and some Cheeto’s. And pizza! Yeah, that would be so good right now.

He quickly tired of the toy, though, when he learned that he couldn’t smoke it, so he just baked it into some brownies and ate it that way. We’ve been pulling plastic pieces of multi-colored cat crap from the litter-box for so long that I’m pretty sure the little poop-factory also ingested a 64 pack of Crayola’s tastiest vintage.

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I camouflaged it

Posted in ACWF, devil cat, food by Anonymous Coworker at 10:17 am on Wednesday, January 11th, 2006

So yesterday ACWF and I were sitting around having dinner, Freedom-Patriot Onion Soup to be exact, when the cat started to bite my foot. Sherlock has been kind of a bastard lately, and he’s really starting to bite pretty hard. I wasn’t very happy with being bitten during my delicious dinner, so I put him in the bathroom and used it as a sort of desensitization chamber. That way there would be no stimuli to wind him up further are you still reading? Good. I didn’t think anyone would want to read this in the middle of January, and well after the holiday seasons had passed, but I have another NOG POST!

Yes, that’s right, another nog post. There’s just too much nog to be consumed between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve, so I had to save some of that posting for this time of year. I also froze another kind of nog in my freezer so I can do yet another nog post in June. Anyway, on to the nog!

This time it’s alcoholic nog from the liquor store. It’s got the alcohol already in it! This should turn out well.

This nog can be found in liquor stores during the holiday seson all over Maryland, and probably in some other places too. It’s 15% alcohol by volume, so it’s 30 proof. Not too shabby. About as strong as your average liqueur.

It looks like nog as it has that sickly, beige, freshly-autopsied corpse coloring that I love so much, and it pours like nog, smooth and flowy. Like liquid silk. Or motor oil with nutmeg. It smells like nog, which essentially smells like a warm cow-udder tastes: delicious. However, the nog itself tastes like the inside of 10-year-old bowling shoes.

Why? Well probably because all they did was crack 2 eggs into a cup of milk and then dump that into the liquor before bottling it and putting in on store shelves. It tastes like thick, viscous, muscusy liquor because it’s nog, and because they use 3 kinds of liquor to make this vile and unholy concoction. 3 kinds!

Every other nog recipe on the internet calls for 1 kind of liquor, if any at all. This one uses EVERY kind of liquor that mixes with nog. They use brandy, whiskey, and rum. I’m glad they stopped before they added tequila, because I’m not sure I’d want to eat the worm sitting at the bottom of that bottle. That worm would probably taste like an ice-cream sandwich left in a gym locker with a sweaty pile of underwears on top of it. But it would be a fat and creamy worm, not skinny and mummified like normal. Like if you pickled cucumbers in heavy cream instead of brine. Ugh.

Luckily when we tried this nog we had some extra non-alcoholic nog around and were able to mix that at the ratio of 1 part alconog to 5 parts regonog to make it taste okay. You’d only have to drink 15 glasses of nog to catch a buzz! Your pancreas would go into shock, but it would be worth it. You’d also probably sweat nog for the next year, but it would still be worth it. And I might ask to lick your nog-sweat, and I promise it would only be weird for a minute.

Now, back to blogging about cats in case anyone skips the middle and goes right for an hilarious punchline that I’m sure to deliver So then ACWF and I look at Sherlock, look at each other, and then look back and Sherlock, and we can’t understand why he’s covered from head to tail in chocolate syrup, so then ACWF says, “I wonder how he did that?” and I say, “To get to the other side!”


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We’ll talk about “meh” later

Posted in bitches, meta blogging by Anonymous Coworker at 3:17 pm on Tuesday, January 10th, 2006

A little while ago CommonWombat published a baseless screed against words he finds annoying. He banned “meh” and he banned “woot” and he banned “ROTFLMAO”.

Now, before we get started, I have to say that Little Miss Wombat on his High Horse was actually dead-on with the ROTF thing. So dead-on that I’ll copy it here:

ROTFLMAO (which is short for “rolling on the floor with my hand shoved elbow-deep up my ass” or something similar) is just fucking goofy though. You can’t anagram an entire sentence. That way lies madness. Should we just save up on valuable bandwidth by blogging entirely in anagrams now? “December 12: TIWTGTTMWC, BTSNCM. M.” Bullshit, I say. From now on, if you found something I said funny, and you want to tell me so, just take the time to actually type that shit out. I promise you won’t get carpal tunnel from the strain of it.

Besides. I guarantee you that none of the people who type ROTFLMAO are actually rolling on the floor. Someone should make an anagram for “Sitting at my desk pretending you’re funny.”

Fine. Ban ROTwhateverI’mtiredoftypingit. I don’t care. But what about LOL? Huh? What about it??

That bitch Wombat lets LOL slide.

So I said, “What the shit? You’re going to let LOL slide but you can’t stand ‘meh’? You short-bus riding, helmet-wearing drool-factory! You’re going to allow the bastardization of ‘ha’ but you can’t stand ‘meh’? That’s just fucking retarded.”

And I thought everything was over at that point, but it wasn’t. That little LOL stuck in my brain and it went pick pick pick. Pick Pick Pick. PICK PICK PICK. And I had to gun down an entire Post Office just to make it go away for a few minutes. To save another Post Office the trouble of cleaning up my shells (they were all wearing body armor, so no one was hurt, I guess that happens a lot) I’m letting it all out in this post. I hate LOL. The next time you want to type LOL, 1) check and see if you’re actually laughing out loud, 2) say LOL out loud first.

Chances are you weren’t laughing out loud, and you’ll realize what a douchebag you are for writing something as insipid as LOL when a perfectly fine “ha” would do.

This is how my system of “ha” works. It’s a much more nuanced system than the clumsy LOL, LMAO, etc. system.

ha- a chuckle, silent
ha ha- a chuckle out loud
ha!- a laugh, silent
ha ha!- a laugh out loud
Ha!- a laugh, suggests surprise
Ha ha!- a hearty laugh, suggests surprise
HA!- complete surprise and jocularity
HA HA!- roughly translated, “I am alive with mirth and merriment!”

Now, memorize this system and use it accordingly. Hopefully, in a few months, this whole LOL nonsense will be taken out, Old Yeller style.

P.S. Before you go and type a smarmy “LOL” in comments, I think you should be warned that any comment using LOL in place of the above system will be changed at my discretion.

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January Blogger Happy Hour

Posted in happy hour, meta blogging, beer by Anonymous Coworker at 10:29 am on Tuesday, January 10th, 2006

The January Blogger Happy Hour is to take place on Tuesday, January 24th from 4:30ish until probably about midnight. Or later. That’s how us bloggers roll.

It’ll be at Rick’s Cafe Americain. You can get directions at that link. This chick right here is hosting.

Also, I’m going to make special requests of some bloggers I’ve not yet met. Consider this your invitation. Come, hang out, teach your children the wonders of the cigarette vending machine.

Reckless Rogue
Dig Dug (I know you’re in PA, but I thought Baltimore might not be too far)
Kmart (Seriously bro, where you at?)

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The jibblies

Posted in uncategorized by Anonymous Coworker at 9:42 am on Tuesday, January 10th, 2006

I was never the type of kid who knew what they wanted to do when they grew up. I was the type of kid who shrugged his shoulders, sighed, and then said “astronaut” just to make the adults go away because I had Transformers who needed to fight Luke Skywalker to see who would get ultimate control over the the motorcycle from Akira. Usually Luke won because he was the only one who could ride the motorcycle, even though I had lost his head ages before that.

I guess that I always wanted to be lazy. People would ask what I wanted to do and I would think, “Man, it would be awesome if it snowed a lot and then I could dig tunnels everywhere and all the tunnels would connect to all the important stuff like the library and the grocery store. That’d be awesome!” or I would think “I’d really love to live on the beach and never have to leave.” Those were my goals growing up.

Sometimes, as early as middle school, people were picking their lots in life. They wanted to be marine biologists, or, uh, yeah, I think everybody wanted to be a marine biologist in middle school.Free Willy was big at the time.

High School sucked with regard to determining a career. By senior year some of my classmates were already picking their majors. Physics, Computer Science, Biology, Chemistry, and Psychology were just some of the career paths in my circle of friends. Me? I just wanted to watch TV and play video games. I wanted to read and watch movies. I wanted to go camping and experience the world. Essentially, I was ready to retire when I was 17.

In college I picked English because I didn’t want to do anything else, and even when I was studying literature or writing I still wasn’t sure that’s what I wanted to do. It never felt quite right, but it was fun enough, I guess.

Now I’ve been presented with the opportunity to get a master’s degree at an extremely reduced price, and I still have no idea what the hell I want to do. Actually, that’s not true. I know what I want to do. I want to get paid to travel around, take pictures, and drink with the locals. Also, maybe make a short movie on the side every now and then with my friends. But, they’re not offering degrees in that to me for free, so I have to pick something else, and yet again, I’m laying a path for my future without much regard for what my interests actually are, and it give me the jibblies. I’m scared out of my wits.

Here I come Masters in Sociology!

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