Is It Man Or Mouse?

  Today is obviously my 100th post. I'm not sure why that is significant other than others mention it. Maybe it's like turning 100 years old. If you're around long enough, it just can't be helped. Thanks to B.B. for this "card".

  The 100th Post:

  What's with the "wimping" of the American guy? I heard it called the "Oprahization" of man somewhere. Same damned thing! That pisses me off. I was at a gas station/convienence store  last night and heard this guy talking to his wife I think. They were talking about their kids. He kept saying to her, "Baby, you don't understand. Ok, ok I'll do it your way. Ok?" Then he said something like, "Well, no it's my fault. I just don't think clearly right after I get off of work." Oh dude! You suck crap through your bloody blowhole you sorry ass excuse of a man. I'll bet this is the same guy that goes home after work and does the cooking too just so his spouse can't bitch at him for not doing anything. Are her f*cking arms broken? 

  We're supposed to be "sensitive" (another word I despise except when talking about teeth) to feelings and desires and all sorts of intangible and very subjective-like ideas. WTF? Sensitive? Tell it to a girlfriend. I hate a chicken ass dude more than the worst be-otch on the planet. It's ok to talk and be fair and reasonalble. In fact, it's necessary to make things work. But fellow members of the male persuasion, you are really sucking up the wrong tree if you think that cowering bullshit is good for you.

  If we do something really stupid and it causes problems with a girlfriend, for instance, so be it. Apoligize you f*cking moron! Do not, and I repeat, do not go "begging" for forgiveness for being stupid. It's every man's God given right to be a f*cking moron and fool. Personally, I plan to exercise my manly rights at every turn. Furthermore, what the hell do we as men think we're doing by always giving in about virtually everything at the drop of a hat? Huh? I see it this way. I can compromise-that's not giving in. There's a difference. Giving in is when we pretend to give a shit about her feelings and say something like, "Oh honey, I know where you're coming from. Look it'll be ok. I'll just do "it" the way you suggested." NO! You die you sack of rat puke...

  Guys you gotta own up to being a guy and stop coming across as some little worthless piece of shit that people step in at every turn. It's about backbone dudes. I swear that it doesn't hurt, and you'll be able to walk taller too. For you f*cking wimps though that could pose a real problem with your sensitivity training.-LRH-Don.

Cutting The Fat

  I was watching a show on Discovery Health channel last night. I usually tune in to catch up on who's been shot and bled to death or what little kid got hit by a car and may not make it since the docs can't get his brain back into his skull. Then there's always the idiot who comes in laughing and talking with the nurses while the doctors are trying to pull an arrow from his eye socket because he was playing Robin Hood with his 6 year old son. That's Trauma: Life In The ER. Fun stuff! I love it.
  Last night however, one of their shows that I think I've only seen once came on right after ER. I may add it to my list of cool shows to watch from now on because stupid fat people make me laugh. It was about all of these really obese people-female in this case-who elected to undergo a surgical procedure to lose weight. I'm sitting there watching as this one old gal (about my age) was being put to sleep. They should have just "put her down" in my opinion. She was having some sort of gastric bypass procedure done as well as liposuction and a third type of fat removing operation-all at once!
  The gastric by-pass was done first. Not much to see there. Just tying some guts off and shortening the intestine some. No blood though and no pain-yet! Heh, heh, heh... Then came the liposuction. Now this looks like a cake walk as far as difficulty. I could do this with one hour's worth of practice. Maybe not well, but I could do it! They must've sucked twenty pounds of fat (looks like curdled butter) from that bitch. She needed another fifty or so sucked out I thought. Seems to me that she'll look like cottage cheese now.
  Last but certainly not least came this weird looking operation. Weird in that they started cutting away this beasts' skin and more fat. I mean they literally sliced away at her big ass like she was a slab of bacon. The nurses folded these slabs of skin and put them on a tray for grafting onto other people. Cool. When they were through with that then came the stitches and staples and tape and super glue and stuff. I'd love to see her about three hours after that surgery though. Can you spell m-o-r-p-h-i-n-e? Here's hoping that her sex life is better. It certainly couldn't have been worse. Geez, trying to get past all of that scar tissue and knowing that somebody is walking around with her skin stapled to their ass is enough to make me change channels-almost!-Don.
  
  
  
   

  It's that time of week again. A time where I get to some really serious sucking! Last week my suckees were After Dinner Mint and The Medium Bus. These are two of the best funny blogs that I read. This week I have chosen two more that I know are also worthy of my damned attention--misplaced as though it may be. The first blog mentioned is one of the more popular, and it is one of the very first humor blogs that I began to read since I learned how. Yes, it's none other than the venerable old man himself. Da Old Man, or as he is formally known, Crotchety Old Man Yells At Cars! Da Old Man writes 4 blogs actually...pretty damned incredible to me since I'm still trying to figure out the look I want for my f*cking one site!

  Next and certainly perhaps least, it's still shit eating good to me though, is my bro' and my guiding light into the abyss. He's a freak known to millions and understood only by his mother. It's Spazoid at Spazoid's Space. I only started getting hooked on this maniac a couple of weeks ago yet his humor and lack of writing skills make this blog really enjoyable for those of us with mincemeat for brains. I don't visit him every day, but it's well worth a trip to his spazzy world of make believe and reality.

  These two blogs are really well worth a couple of minutes daily to check out...You'll get a laugh-guaranteed!

  *Note from the editor ( that would be me ). If you don't like my recommendations then you're retarded.

  

 

Margaritas, Mojitos and Midnight

  Ever had one of those days when the weather was perfect and you were having some pretty damned perfect thoughts too? Geez, I gotta tell you that Friday was one of those days. The weather was great, and I was having some pretty f*cking good ideas about things I'd like to be doing!
  Quite a few of my "good" ideas started with alcohol. I mean like what kind of drink would have gone with the weather Friday? Yesterday  was a margarita day-no doubt. The thought of an ice cold margarita in one hand and a really blistering hot babe hanging off of the other...well, you'd just have to been in my brain to come close to enjoying that. Essentially I was just day dreaming. Shit! Maybe tonight something may happen. Like, well I don't know. I know what I'd like and it just might start with a tall mojito. Mojitos are a "nights-on-the-beach" drink. See with just the right person and a mojito it's really hard to have a f*cked up night. Geez how sweet is that? Unless of course your perfect girl turns out not to have  teeth or something. Why is there always some lousy little catch to the good shit?

  Midnight was my last hope for one of my dreams to come true. Hell, it came and went and I'm just getting out of the f*cking bed and not out from under a blanket on the beach. No sand in the crack of my ass or nothing! What a f*cking boring night! I want a damned refund. No, I demand a refund. I want to be Bill Murray in Groundhog Day and do it all over until I get it right. Shit, and the weekend is just getting started. All that I asked for Friday was a margarita, a mojito and midnight on the beach...and just a little bit more-Don.

When Graphitti Becomes Art

  In my town there's quite a few taggers running around spray painting crap. I know that every place has them. Many of them just tag old and dilapidated shit that's laying around in old and dilapidated shitty neighborhoods. That's fine with me. It's like which came first, the chicken or the egg. Which was there first? Was the graffiti painted there because the neighborhood sucks or does the neighborhood suck because of the graffiti? I couldn't care less about that any more than I care about Darfur. (hate mail will be forwarded to my Insults Dept.). I like the "art" form! (see angel).
  There is also this tagger that's going around the downtown area hitting some pretty high dollar real estate and some city monuments. Maybe the dude is behind on his taxes and pissed off at the establisment. I don't know. I do know this. This tagger doesn't earn any respect from me! Not so much because he's really screwing with some expensive properties, but this clown is a bumb because he does not know how to properly paint or "tag" (photo at right is a representation).
  Trains rolling in front of me at a crossing are fascinating to watch. The graphitti is really very good. What's more fascinating to me, however, is how the f*ck do they paint those moving boxcars! They really have their shit together. Now that gets some respect. Any idiot can hit some old rusty car with a couple of gang symbols. Hell, I want a professional job! The angel pic above is a good example of the graphitti style that I enjoy. Now that's class! Hell, I'll bet Norman F*ckin' Rockwell couldn't do any better!
  One could argue about the artistic and criminal skills of taggers (aka graphitti artist) all day long. I say yes-you say no...that stuff. Personally, my only regret is that I can't do that well. I'm pretty good with a bar of soap and a plate glass window though. When all is said and done it's not really true that "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder" when it comes to graffiti. What it comes down to is simpler than that. Graffiti becomes art when there is a F*CKING competition for the bastards!-Holy shit Batman!-Don.

Another Happy Awards Day

  These are the two awards that I received Monday from two really funny, and a little crazy, blogs. Pink Latex The Blog and The Lost News respectively. As I mentioned earlier, I do read them daily. They're worth checking out.
  I am giving the Arte y Pico award to the following:
  *That's Funny Because...
  *humorbloggers dot com (This basically amounts to a shoutout to those guys. Due to obvious reasons, they are exempt from any rules that may apply in order to accept the award).
  *Dame Wotta Tripp's Advice Column


Angry Clown's Hell Award For Evilness is bestowed upon:
  *New Age Bitch
  *ettarose-Edge of Sanity
  *HumorSmith Chronicle-although certainly not evil it's still edgy...

   I'm going to change these rules slighty so I may be taken off of the internet or banished from the blogosphere or both. But here's the deal:
  1) You do not have to link to me
  2) Award up to 3 blogs and notify them
  3) Please DO link back to the originators of these awards. That is a link to The Angry Clown and a link to Arte y Pico depending on your award. FYI however, the real rules are posted below just in case you are too structured to do without them.

1.) Choose 5 blogs that you consider deserving of this award based on creativity, design, interesting material & overall contribution to the blogger community.
2.) Post the name of the author & a link to his or her blog so everyone can view it.
3.) Each award winner has to show the award & put the name & link to the blog that has given him or her the award
4.) The award winner & presenter should post the link of the "Arte y pico" blog so everyone will know the origin of the award.
5) Post these rules.

Just making life a little easier with every breath I take-Don.                                                                      

I Like My Roommate Better

  Funny thing about roommates. They can say something to me and I actually listen. I was pondering (that's me pondering in pic) the other day about the differences between a female roommate and a wife. They are a world apart. It's not the females that are that much different. It's the female's environment. In my case, I'm the "environment".
  Take for example the other night-I cooked spaghetti. No sweat. Didn't have to ask and she made no other suggestions. That was A-Ok! Now my ex would have instantly said something like, "Spaghetti? We just had that 2 months ago! I want a sirloin." To which I would have replied, "Want a f*cking sirloin? Ya really want a f*cking sirloin? Here's your f*cking sirloin." At which point I would have handed her a 3 day old leftover pork chop I found while cleaning out the fridge. I'm not married anymore. My roommate might ask me to take her to the grocery store. I hate going to the grocery store. I want to go with my friends jet skiing...but, I'm like, "Yeah sure. Come on let's go because I need to be back within an hour." Which may or may not be true-that's not the point. She's says, "Yeah, sure. I'm ready." That's it. No shit from nobody. I've reached manly utopia!
  I spent the weekend out of town a couple of weeks back. I just packed my shit, left a note for da roomie, left her some money and then left. Adios! Farewell. Sayonara...I came back Sunday and the only thing she said to me was, "Did you have a good time? How much money did you lose?" Hell, if that had been my ex I'd still be trying to explain the "who, what, when's and where's" of every moment. "Why did you leave me money? Are you never coming back?" she'd say. "Hell, I only left you $20!" I would have responded. I would have been thinking (pondering as in pic above) however, "...believe me, if I had more cash on hand I'd sure as f*ck give it to you."
  I was married. We could never get along very well. What's that about? Now? I'm not married but I'm living with a female. We share the same house and food and pay bills and even argue sometimes. I usually win those however. I'm good at that. For me this is much better. I'm telling you that there's somthing in the air that makes living with a girl different when your not married to her. Must be the environment!-I hope she doesn't read this-Don.

Rocking And Rambling My Life Away

  The Lost News and Pink Latex have both given me a blogger award for which I am grateful. They both are hilarious and two of my daily "fixes." Thanks guys. More on these later though!

  I'm sitting here in the offices of Beyond Left Field gazing out of the penthouse windows onto the rooftops below. Pink Floyd and Guns-n-Roses have been howling alternatively in the background. No damn weed or Jack to soothe the spirit anymore. No need. I'm having a f*cking blast as is. Me and a few friends are chilling. David Bowie is about to hammer out "Space Odyssey" now and Clapton and Cream are coming up soon! Shit, life can't get any better.
  I think a dirty martini is in order. I had some the other night though, and since I'm not really into them, I'll pass for now. I just think that one would be in order. In a couple of hours or so it'll be hammer time! Hell, yeah. Another night out for awhile just hangin' loose and flying the way I like to fly. My way and nobody else's. The sounds you here are sounds of MY own f*cking drummer and no one can duplicate that beat!
  I can do pretty much as I damn well please, and that's just what I intend to do. Little can stop me now, and I'm only getting better. Just don't step in front of me. I'll not stop for anyone trying to get in my way. It's been a long time getting here and I will never give it up! You figure it out for yourselves if you want. You want it. You know you do, and I hope that you get it one day. You'll know when you do. When that happens I'll gladly step aside for you.-Don.  

A Hunky Gardener And Jack Something Are My Friends

  I really need to clean up some of my directories. I use one quite a bit too. I mean I was there this morning checking out some of my favorite sites. Damn. I've got so much shit on it I don't even look at ! There's this site listed as "my friend" called the "Hunky Gardener". How the f*ck did I manage to add him to my list of friends. I get my flowers from weddings and funerals anyway. Then I have to look at a guy named Jack that has written numerous books about something and attempts to tell me how to make money. I can't stand those sites. Just not my cup-'o-tea...These blogs may be very good if you're into that stuff, but me?! No f*cking way Jose.

  I think that I must feel guilty if they invite me to be a "friend", so I'm like hell ok. I'll be your patsy. Some of these blogs in my directory have a profile pic of a hot girl. Works every time. I'm so simple. All they ever seem to be about is selling some kind of health related shit--vitamins or vitamin laced water, etc. I don't want to read about how my liver is probably looking like a fishnet because I don't eat a gallon of vitamin X three times a day. Yet, there they are in my directory. I've done it again. They say, "So and so has added you as a friend". Well, naturally I'm like ok, cool. So then I add them to my friends list. I've got more shit on that list. My Shit List. I'll never read any of it.
  Today is house cleaning day. I'm going to wipe away those sites and get down to the serious "meat." I'm only leaving those blogs that I truly enjoy--hell yeah, Mr. Clean here! Wimp sites, health sites, blogs about potty training and the proper way to comb your pubes are out. My directories will become a lean, mean fighting machine today. I know that I'm not alone here. So, when you wonder about some of the f*cking stupid shit I may have listed, check out your own. You know that you've got some. It's just kind of hard to say no sometimes when someone is requesting "friendship". Even though it is just totally a bogus deal. Ok, so not completely bogus. Some of my favorite blogs were found through those directories...-Don.

Suck Up Sunday

  Beginning today I am going to plug some of my favorite sites. I don't mean plug as in butt plug. I mean like a shoutout. These sights will vary somewhat in nature and content; however, I promise you none will have anything to do with: 1) making money 2) gospel music 3) country music or 4) religion (see item 1). They will all be blogs that I read daily or at least visit briefly to honor them with my presence. Most will be funny and a few will actually be intelligent... You have to figure out which one is which.
  You may notice that many of the sites I will list are sites belonging to females whose avatars look really hot. That's not a coincidence. If it's a guys site, however, that is a coincidence! I will suck up to authors of at least two sites every Sunday unless I should die first. Then y'all are on your own. Sometimes more. That will just depend on whatever the hell it was I did Saturday night. Ok, since my reputation is on the line here let me just say that if y'all hate a site then blame it on the author and not me. If you love a site I plug, then by all means please comment. I'm sensitive as hell though, so don't f*ck this up.
  To start things off I'm sharing the love with brother Dale Bentley--author and humanitarian. Never does he speak ill of others except when he wants too or he cannot quit talking about his own problems long enough to get his thoughts on "paper". Dale is the man at The Medium Bus. Those of us who read The Medium Bus know first hand that Dale needs the large bus. Check him out though. He may be the next Rodney Dangerfield of the horse shit arena.
  Next is a guy that has a really strange username--The FLy. He even attempts to be cute and misspell it. Big f*cking deal fly. The name of his blog is The After Dinner Mint. What kinda fly are you talking about? Are you still hung up on other peoples crazy sex stories? You naughty little pest! His blog borders on reasonalbly intelligent. It's one of those rare blogs that I really read that makes the first bit of legitimate sense. So Armando aka The FLy I salute you and your stimulating (?) site. Don't get carried away though and think that it can't crumble within a week...-with only love bro's-Don.

If anyone has any blogs that they want me to give a plug to, just drop a note and I'll get 'em up on a following Sunday--provided I like the site too! (damn. there's always a catch)

A Martini And A Wanker

  I "loaned" a friend some money yesterday. I'll never get it back, but that's friggin' cool because when I gave it to him I knew I would never see it again. Next time he comes around for more cash I'll have a total f*cking blast rubbing it in about the money he still owes me. I'll just say, "Hell no you fugging moron! Are you even nearly sane enough to know better than ask that fat body?" To which he'll reply meekly, "Well I know, but I was just hoping..." This is a friend now that I can intimidate just by breathing, and I have the best time doing just that. He uses his "meekness stance" to try to make me feel guilty.
  This guy is single but dates about as many girls as I know too. He's a male nurse making good money and living with a good looking blond chick. He splits the bills and rent with her as well as splitting her when she allows it. He's such a f*cking moron. He stays busted! Broke! I'm like, "Dude, what is your main issue? Are you f*cking ass stupid fat body? How can you possibly be so broke you can't even afford toothpaste?" No shit. I don't know why I still like him other than his roommate is hot and I can totally screw with his head. He thinks that I'm really mean and a heathen, but he still hangs with me frequently... Go figgah.
  The reason I'm saying all of this shit is because tonight he wants to go to The Martini Spot. It's a local place with lots of martinis (duh) and lots of girls looking for some chump to buy them one. I readily volunteer my services and money for that purpose. I hate to disappoint ya know? My buddy will try to get some poor girl tipsy as usual and only succeed in getting drunk himself. Then he'll need a ride home. He'll say, "Oh man I appreciate the ride. You got 5 bucks on you?" To which I'll tell him to go f*ck himself and his roommate. Tomorrow he won't remember anything. He'll call me asking if we had a good time. I'll simply say, "Dude, it was really great. Oh man, by the way, you borrowed twenty bucks from me last night. I want it along with the other you owe me your next payday."-Dirty martini anyone?-Don.

Parental Rules a la Carte

  I was somewhat of an unruly kid. I was not an outcast though. My parents, however, saw things differently. My parents smoked when I was a little lad, but it was like "We smoke and that's bad. You smoke and we kill you!" One evening I went out with the next door neighbor. I was 14 I think...that seems to be the age when I got into the most trouble. Well, we came back and I had been smoking. My dad smelled it on me but I quickly declared that we had driven past some wooded areas that were burning and that was pine tree smoke--not Marlboro! Dad quickly lit a fire under my ass that made a California wildfire look like a candle burning from a mile away. I had broken kid's rule #1. No smoking.
  My parents (especially dad) laid down the rules, and he expected you to follow them. Fair enough... My brother followed them religiously. He was still a little fun though and did have friends. My sister was older so I really never got into her life outside of the family. Me? I knew every rule we kids had. I obeyed few. It's just not in my blood. Dad would say that on school nights it is imperative we be home by supper. Late? Always, and always greeted with a scowl and ass chewing. I had so many ass chewings that my butt looked like the ass end of an elephant right after taking a shit! It belonged in the Smithsonian. Busted, rule #2, adhere to curfew, thrown out.
  Another rule that was in play was that we could not call our siblings certain names. I don't mean like Sue or Roger either. At 14 it's not proper to call your sister a slut or your little brother a fuck face. Not proper-just done. Whap! Another ass kicking by dear pops! His foot must have stayed swollen from all of the times he positioned it up my butt at the speed of light! Rule #3, no cursing, long gone.
  I can't forget about the "manners rule" either. It just simply said that when in public or at anyone's house or in the presence of company that we were to behave properly. That's a reasonable rule. The way that I took it meant however, that there were no manners necessary if non-family members weren't nearby. Wrong! Dad just simply exercised his God given right as keeper of the flame and promptly kicked my ass--again. Rule #4, manners in play, really? There goes the foot again.
  Those are the four most difficult rules we had laid out for us I think. At least those are four that I constantly broke and was punished for. I got payback though. I had two kids, and when they got 14, I bought a new pair of steel toed boots! Dad always did say, "Be prepared." Thanks dad.-Don.
 

Teri, Teri, Teri

  If anyone doesn't know who thinkinfyou is, well take a look at the picture to the left. Better yet, just go to her site! Actually, that's Teri Garr in the pic, but a spitting (I mean that in a good way) image of thinkinfyou. She's one of my favorites, and I visit her site every day--sometimes more!
  Today she gave me the Kick Ass Blogger award. She says she knew that I had already received this award but it didn't matter. Cool! She certainly is!
Thanks Teri...uh well. Oh yeah, I need to mention that she's the spitting image of a 35 year old Teri Garr. Whew...almost blew that one.
  Alright now it's time to get down to the nut cuttin' (southern euphemism):

   First of all, and most importantly, everybody who accepts this honor must link my site back to them. In case some of you may not be able to figure it out, it's either: Don, RedRaider, BeyondLeftField, Raiderman, Chuck Norris and just plain Dude! Secondly, you in turn must give the award to five of your favorites too, and notify them my email, post or whatever. Ya want them to come by and pick it up right? Third, wtf is third? Ummm...oh, link back to www.mammadawg.com. They are the originators of this fine blogging award for excellence. Fourth, link back to Beyond Left Field. Did I mention that?
  The winners are in alphabetical order:

    1) Angry Clown-evil muddah!

    2) A Guy's Guide To Oprah-go figure.

    3) That's Funny Because-that's my girl.

    4) The Driveby-this guy is actually a trained writer

    5) The Slap & Tickle-the British are coming...

  Thank God that's over with!

Boogers and Zits--A Dinner Story

  A few days back Damon @ Angry Clown posted a picture of a peasant looking dude with 6" inch long streams of snot hanging out of his nose. It was hilarious and gross at the same time...funny stuff. That got me thinking about grown people I've seen walking around with boogers, snot and big zits and seeming oblivious to the fact that they're a walking herpes and virus factory.
  Ya know the truth is that if I see someone, young or old, with a zit my first inclination is to pop it. Makes no difference whether I know them or not. It's like a pimple popping compulsion. I just wanna pop it! I may say something to them if I know them. Like, "Dude be still. I have to pop this zit on your eyelid." I even wish I had one that I could pop when I see some really sweet little whitehead hanging out on otherwise nice skin. No oozers though. Oozers are out of the question. Sometimes when I've mentioned to someone that they're zit looks like it's getting ready to go into meltdown mode, I say, "Man you gotta take care of that before it erupts all in your happy meal..." Then I'll like make a squeezing gesture and clinch my jaw like I'm popping it for them. Sheer jealously no doubt.
  Boogers? Hell who hasn't had boogers. If you breath then you've had boogers. That's not really the issue though. The issue is what you do with them. Obviously you can blow your nose. That's if you have something other than your shirt sleeve to blow it on. You can pick it all you like in private. Hell go diggin' for gold for all I care. Some people don't care and go diggin' in public. Or, and this is my personal favorite, you pick your nose, but do it in a manner that you think people are thinking your just scratching it. Yeah that's right. I'm just scratching here. It's like scratching your balls in public but trying to make it look like you're only you're rubbing your fingers against your leg because they itch or something--the fingers that is. Never eat it. That'll give you worms--or worse, you'll get a watermelon vine growing out of your nose! That's something else...
  After you've successfully picked, prodded and popped your shit, what do you do with all of that crap? Zits and boogers, I think, all too often end up on one's clothes. A really smart booger picker can toss it off his hand and nobody will know. Zits? Ok so now you've destroyed it and your face is bleeding, then what? I guess you wipe that shit on your clothes too huh? You could just wipe it on somebody elses clothes. It's not hard to do. Just pat them on the back and say, "How are you? Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else." -Have a nice dinner-Don.

For Laughing At A Dead Cat I Get...

  ...my yellow jacket sting for instance. I'll keep this brief because I'm pissed. You know that vein that runs from like the end of the eye brow to the hairline? One of the ones that gets big when you hold your breath or have a heart attack? A f*cking big yellow jacket nailed the one over my left eye. Now my eye and the left side of my nose is swollen.
  I saw it coming in at me from 10 o'clock high. I immediately tried to take cover, but that son of a bitch was good! It'd obviously had plenty of "dry" runs during practice or something. That little f*cker never, not one damn second, lost his way to that vein! Bastards! What the f*ck did God put them on earth for anyway? What do they do? I don't think that they're even in the food chain. What's their purpose but to piss people off and run up the sales of Benedryl...?

  I'm not allergic to insect stings, but a nurse told me one time that the more stings you take-the less your body's resistance to them becomes. Hell, I thought it was just the opposite. That may explain why my trachea is closing shut and my normally green eyes are purple. I've got a really good tolerance for pain--even the kind that's fun--however, I feel like I've been shot! God, I hate those f*ckers! Then they fly off and hide. They don't hang around and fight. So not only do they just piss me off by existing, they piss me off by flying off somewhere after the attack. I hate a coward. I wonder if they can laugh.-With only one eye on you-Don.

When It Rains, It Pours

  In an effort to expose the blogosphere to a more intellectual style of writing, Angry Clown has bestowed upon me his highest award for killer blogs. Thank You! It's a testament to good taste everywhere. His good taste and the desire for quality among my readers has prevailed. On behalf of my legion of readers and staff, I proudly accept the Hell Award for Evilness:                                                  

  While I know the rules by heart (ahem), I know there are those who didn't even know there were rules. Here they are:
                           1.  You have to show the link of the blog/s that awarded you the HELL AWARD.
                           2.  You must award this prize to at least 3 other blogs and show there links and names.
                           3.  The award must be linked back to ANGRY CLOWN
                           4.  All awards must be deserved.
                           5.  The rules must be shown with the award.

 My 3 choices have come after sincere and long thought. I don't take this shit lightly! Here are the winners:
                           1. Pink Latex Blog @ www.pinklatexblog.com
                           2. Kathcom @ Magick Sandwich
                           3. Static @ Krapsody
  These 3 are all very worthy as I'm sure many others are. I believe that Angry Clown would be very proud!
                                  

Have Candy-Will Travel

  I never was a bullying type, nor was I the kid that made fun of others--for the most part. I was more like the guy that always befriended people because they had something I either liked or wanted. I had lots of friends! You know...like, I liked the hottest girls so I befriended them. The guys with the coolest cars were my friends. Until I got my new 'Stang and realized what a pain in the ass friends could be.

  There was a girl in the 10th grade that everybody wanted to get close too. Her name was Cheryl and her "magnet" or draw came about because she always brought a big bag of candy and gum to school. Naturally, being the stud and sweet, compassionate asshole I am, I befriended her. Me want candy! You want friend, fatso? Yes, she was unattractive and very overweight. Candy anyone? I wasn't the only one though. Cheryl had lots of "friends" between the hours of 7:45a.m. and 2:45p.m. weekdays. After that I wouldn't know.
  She would go to her locker first thing and draw a crowd of vultures - like me. I used to love to say, "Hi Cheryl. How are you. You look nice today. What's in the f*cking bag?" She'd usually laugh (she was kind of damn goofy too) and open the bag. Bam! Bitch I'm in for the day! Hallef*ckinglujah, I'm good to go! I'd usually go for the jaw breakers and some bubble gum. I had another friend whose dad was a dentist. I would never see the old gal until the day was done and I was leaving the last class. By that time I was out of candy so it was time to go ask Cheryl how her f*cking day was. "Hey Cheryl, how'd that math class go today? Did y'all have a test?" She'd answer with that damned stupid ass looking goofy smile. Then I'd pounce with lightning speed for the candy bag! Damn, nothing but friggin' Goobers and Kandy Korn. Kandy Korn! It's f*cking Thanksgiving, and you're passing out month old candy?
  I never saw her after that last day of 10th grade--May 21, 1967. Haven't seen her since. I wonder if she lost weight, ever got married - if so, did she "catch" her man with her f*cking Goobers? Hell, who knows? One thing's for sure. Every time that I see some Kandy Korn I'm not thinking Halloween. I'm thinking about good ole goofy ass Cheryl and her traveling bag of candy. Halloween would be better...

Keep 'Em Coming

I was getting ready to write another incredibly funny post for today, when I noticed that I had received a message from my beer drinking buddy and famous Texan (via Ok.) "Dad" at Dad The Dude. I ran over to humorbloggers to see what he had cookin', and hell, better than Santa Claus getting caught shacking with my mother--what did I find but this award:

So, I ever so humbly (believe that shit?!) accept this award on behalf of the proprietor and staff of Beyond Left Field and all of my people. Thanks Dad!
In accordance with the rules, which follow this f*cking illustrious explanation of my next move, I will forever memorialize Dad The Dude in humor blogging history by placing him in high esteem on my humble ( and ever popular) blogroll. Now for the rules:

1.) Choose 5 blogs that you consider deserving of this award based on creativity, design, interesting material & overall contribution to the blogger community.

2.) Post the name of the author & a link to his or her blog so everyone can view it.

3.) Each award winner has to show the award & put the name & link to the blog that has given him or her the award

4.) The award winner & presenter should post the link of the "Arte y pico" blog so everyone will know the origin of the award.

5.) Post these rules

After much thought and feelings of omnipotence because of the power this affords me, I have selected the following 5 blogs as my winners for the esteemed Arte y Pico award:
1) fuckedup @ What's Wrong Wit [sic] Me--her bouts with depression crack me up! Whether they're supposed too I don't know.
2) thinkinfyou @ Writing Quiets the Voices in My Head--She tells me that she's not always funny. I disagree.
3) Armando "TheFly4176" Torres @ After Dinner Mint--because he has very few misspellings on his site. Damned good site by the way...!
4) Dani @ Mom's Crazy Life--She's funny, she's a nurse and she reminds me of a girl I used to date!
5) Last but not least is Bill Libbey of the Great State of Canada. Bill is located on I Animate You, and next to Walt Disney and the dude that did Popeye, he's the greatest animator I know of!

Just remember winners that it is very important that you link to me! This is probably the most single important thing that you ever do--except maybe to send me money. Good luck my friends...You're gonna need it!

Danish--You Keep 'Em

  It sure was sweet being able to sleep late this morning. I finally crawled out from under the sheets about 8:30. Damn that was nice! I go downstairs to grab a cup of coffee and my roommate has made (she said) some sort of little "danish" pastry things. I don't really get into breads and cakes much, but these looked really good and smelled even better. The catch? I knew she didn't bake them. So, I dug through the trash to do some intelligence gathering. I found all I needed. The "tube" from whence these babies came.
  They were placed nicely on a little plate with some napkins by them and a note saying, "Help yourself, they're just for you." Bullshit! The oven had not even been turned on. She's wanting something from me and this is was her way of buttering me up. I don't like butter either...! She knows that too. I calmly walk halfway up the stairs and very politely yell as loudly as I can, "This shit won't work! What the f*ck do you want?" She politely responded, at the top of her lungs, "I need a ride to my mother's today!"
  It sure was nice to sleep late, but it sure is looking like the rest of my day is going to hell real quick! F*ck it!-Don.

 

What A Great Start To My Day

  This is my Saturday feast. My actual breakfast laid out for the whole damned world to ponder. Better than starving Africans and worse than the Queen's (although I'll bet she doesn't have chocolate Oreos), but fit for me.
  That's raisin bread though and not wheat bread with bloody boogers or something like that in it...Raisin bread with peanut butter. Yum boy! Protein and carbs rolled into one sticky ass sandwich. My faithful banana for fiber and potassium. And the most high and righteous chocolate Oreo! Sheer f*cking pleasure.
  I'm doing a time trial (cycling) later, and this is how I eat beforehand. See, I don't puke when I eat crap like this. If I ate eggs and a nice biscuit with a little butter and a bowl of God awful grits (never) then I'd puke. I'd puke if I ate left over pizza or my left over pasta salad that sits in my fridge now. Besides, that's my after ride pick-me-up. Love it! I eat lots of different types of food, and I'll try anything once. But, I don't care to heave while I'm running a bike downhill at break neck speed. You can't afford to stop and take a crap either. You'd better believe that the motions of peddling quickly are totally conducive to taking a shit! Trust me, you must choose your food wisely...right?
  So while Africans starve and the Queen eats eggs Benedict with white wine sauce, I'm hanging out in Ms. chowin' down on a meal fit for a, uh....me! Gotta go get into the cycling pants now. That's worth another Oreo. Did I mention these little round, black bastards were chocolate inside?-God save the Queen-Don.

My Eco-Friendly Rant--Because I Can

  Everybody by now has seen these little light bulbs. Many of us are probably even using them. While expensive they apparently last from 5-7 years with normal usage - whatever the hell that is. I'm even burning about 3 or 4 of them myself which is about 3 or 4 more than I thought I would have six months ago. I'm not known around these parts as Mr. Greenjeans! I still dump used antifreeze in a ditch and hope that no thirsty pets walk up to it.
  Have any of you bothered to read the complete list of steps that is recommended by the EPA to follow if you happen to break one of these earth-saving bulbs? Now this isn't my list of things to do. Basically, you just go to a Motel 6 or something for a few days while the house airs out. The recommendations even say to throw away any clothing or bedding that a broken bulb may have come in contact with. Do not use the washing machine because you may contaminate the washer. Don't vacuum the broken glass as it may spread fumes around in the air. Horseshit! So what? Do you realize what type of exposure would be required to cause an illness from these things? You'd almost have to take a bath in mercury - more than once - to make you sick!
  If you wanna save a few bucks annually, then buy them. I don't like them just because they don't give off the light like an incandescent. I know, that's the whole purpose. Cheaper to use - blah, blah. I turn on a lamp and I expect light and lots of it. If I break a bulb I want to be able to kick the pieces under the couch without the fear of an unknown death. So you "go green", and I'll just watch as you put on your respirator and hazmat gear to clean up your broken 60 watt bulb.-The only green I want is in my wallet-Don.
 
 

Suck Up Friday...!

  I got a suggestion from Dana at Life Is Good. She suggested that I remove my word verification script from my comments section because she couldn't make out some of the letters. Well now, being the sweet son of a bitch that I am, I quickly obliged. So here's to you Dana! You remind me of my older sister though, and that's the real reason I did it. She stills tells me what to do.
  See, Angry Clown turned me on to the Spam Killer's Club. So while I still may get hit for removing the word verification script, I now can kill the bastards that hit me...now that's worth a little spam! Hell yeah, it's all about revenge. Sweet mama, it's gonna be a good weekend. I feel it coming on!
  If y'all haven't submitted your blog to humorbloggersdotcom yet--go for it. There's a limited amount of places available for your blogs. It's the coolest f*cking site for humor bloggers. But you probably already can see that by reading my shit! (I'll spell out "shit" but not "fuck". Oops, '*'. There.) Anyway, it provides some really fun stuff like being left out of contest or always coming in last. Chelle B. of The Offended Blogger is the site owner and main bitch on call. She's got really sexy hair too.
  I'm probably going to put up one of my beautifully written and hysterically funny post tonight so that y'all have another opportunity to enjoy my incredible sense of humor... I've never sucked up this much at one time! If anybody's got some bitching or complaining or just otherwise wants to be a f*cking miserable asshole to me today, feel free. This is the place for it, and I'm still looking for a fight! You can also leave some helpful suggestions. Like how to improve the looks (ha, ha like that's possible!) of this blog. I probably won't listen because I'm a f*ck head that way, but try me. I like being had. Later friends!-Don.
   


      **Warning**--If you are under 17 years of age, or you do not have permission to visit sites with graphic and/or adult language, then please get the fuck off my internet ya bunch of little pukes! Thank you...

No Time To Cry

  Seven years ago today I wondered what the f*ck was up in NYC? Wow, after the Today show cut to the fires in the first tower I was thinking, "Holy shit, those poor people above that!" When I saw the second airplane make a sharp left turn at the second tower, I knew seconds before it struck that we were going to war! I'm still itching for a fight.
  Now I believe that forgiveness is supposed to have some sort of "healing" power. Huh? Maybe for some folks...I'm still wanting dead bodies to continue to pile up in the streets and mountains and opium farms of Iraq and Afghanistan and Pakistan. Oh, Pakistan is a friend to us like a bad virus is to a cold. I ain't talking American bodies either.
  Well, we certainly started out with a punch. You got to hit harder and faster and unrelentlessly. You gotta get dirtier and bloodier and see more friends die, but you must continue to carry on. You're only 18 or 19 - maybe a born leader already or maybe a typical kid, and you are scared shitless! You must survive because that's what you're trained to do. You also must kill. Again, because you are trained too.
  This so-called war on terror will continue in one way or another for years to come. Whether it be overt, covert or simply pushed off the front burner for awhile, it'll continue for years. Damn right I'm pissed off. Still after 7 years. Nobody wins yet we have so much to lose. Go figure. I can't figure it all out. I'm not smart enough. Hell doesn't need to wait for me though--I still have a fight to pick!-Don.

...AND THE WINNERS ARE...

Today I was presented with an award by Rob @ Did I Miss Something. I've been reading 2 of his blogs regularly, and coming from him it is quite a treat! Thanks Rob. There are rules that apply if accepting this award and I shall list them here:

• The award may be displayed on a winners' blog.
• Add a link to the person who you received the award from.
• Nominate up to 7 other blogs.
• Add their links to your blog.
• Send a message to each of those you nominated notifying them of the award.

Now without further adieu it is my honor to announce my 7 WINNERS! They are - in no certain order:
* Ok, Crazy
* the Soccer Mom files
* Puff Matty
* ettarose-the edge of sanity
* Dad - The Dude
* The Lost News
* Dana @ Life is Good

There are many, many more that would have just as easily fit the bill here. You all are very worthy.-Don.

At Least It Ain't Kobe F*cking Bryant!

MyHeritage: Family tree - Genealogy - Celebrity - Collage - Morph

  Thanks to thinkinfyou @ writingquietsthevoicesinmyhead I now know who my real parents are-Don.

A Wife, A Wench, A Waffle House

  I once went to a Waffle House with my then wife, Connie. Occasionally, we would go to eat "breakfast at dinner". There was this pretty waitress working our table. I figured she must have been there by mistake. Maybe she got mixed up with some slave traders or something. Who knows?
  She was a little on the flirty side. I didn't think too much about it, but my wife wasn't really into it. It was just harmless b.s. Anyway, she makes several trips to the table making sure that I was taken care of. My wife was basically ignored which, now that I think of it, is probably the same reason that we got divorced.
  The girl comes back about a third time with the food. She makes a very overt gesture by stretching completely across the booth to give me the salt and pepper shakers that were about 12 inches from my left hand. Her boobs were roughly six inches from my face--so now I'm already thinking of dessert.
  After my wife began to breathe again, I asked her if she wanted anything else before I left a handsome tip and we left the joint. I was only thinking of her and wondering if maybe she didn't get enough to eat. I thought that she may have wanted to order again, but at 5'2" and 100 lbs. she wasn't known for packing it in. So, I fumbled around trying to find my wallet. After 10 minutes I pulled it out--my wallet! I left the girl a few bucks that was not so suspiciously close to the same amount as the meal.
  That was the last time that we ever went to the Waffle House together. Seems like every time I ate there I'd get greasy farts anyway. Yeah I know...sour grapes. It's like you don't know if that was just a fart or you need to wipe! So much for pleasant memories over a plate of waffles and boobs. Never did get that dessert!-Life's so unfair-Don.

Easy Come, Easy Go

I got back about 7:30 last night from Biloxi. I lost a few bucks, as usual, at the Hard Rock...Some of my buddies will call me and ask me if I'm going down there on any given weekend. Sure, why not? Hell, it's only 1 lousy hour away. I can take 50 or 60 crummy little dollars--won't go broke like that.
  Okay. I take a couple of hundred bucks, right? A little more than I usually take, but I felt like I had the mojo--the hoodoo. Good karma and all...Two and a half hours later--Busted! Damn! I asked some lady in a wheelchair if she'd loan me 5 bucks. She gave me 10 provided I split any winnings. Sure. Like I didn't even know her, but we were both drinking. I hit with her 10 and pulled down 60 in my third "pull". Ok, now I'm on a streak. I give her $30 back as promised and promptly lose the other $30. You know, the half that's mine. Shit!
  I'm getting pissed off now. At least as pissed off as I can get which is not much. So I just stroll ( I do that when I drink-stroll ) over to a table and watch people walk by while I'm waiting on my friends to go bust like me. Lo and behold a very attractive lady is walking arm-in-arm with a very ugly and mean looking dude. It gets my attention when I notice the man drop what I thought were some tickets to one of the shows there that night. Nope. Again I stroll over and pick up what the guy dropped. I knew I had the mojo that night. I "found" a $20 and a $10 bill laying there. I didn't want anybody to get them messed up so I put them in my wallet for safe keeping. Since I had been drinking though, I quickly forgot about the find until we had already headed home. I felt bad. Really! Not enough to go back though. What with the gas prices and everything.
  The way I see it is that I took $190 with me. I spent about $40 on food and drinks. I pissed away $150 in the slots leaving me -0-. I scored $10 from a crippled chick and hit $60. I gave the crippled babe thirty bucks of that leaving me thirty which I lost. I found $30 on the floor, pocketed that and stopped gambling. So I left with $30 that didn't rightfully belong to me. Shit what's fun about that? Hell, I'll just sleep on it.-Shame on me-Don.

Pitt and Jolie and My Baby Pictures ( from: 7/15/08 )

  ( I'm going to Biloxi today -Sat.09/06- to gamble away some money. So here's a post from the past! Chew well.)


  Pitt and Jolie wanted to know just what their two little tykes would wish for their nursery. Of course the little ones couldn't talk-I don't think. What do the parents do but hire a psychic to get the decorating vibes from the twins. Hell, is there another way? Personally, if PittLie weren't planning on keeping the two in the same damned room until, say, they began driving, I really wouldn't think the kids had a preference what color the walls were-ya know?

•   By now the entire world has heard of the astronomical dollar amounts floating around for the rights to the first "official" photos of the kiddies. Ok, I know that PittLie says the money will go to charity. Great! Thanks! Have a happy life...Money wasted in the third world where some corrupt regime will divert it for personal use. Good move PittLie. Also, will anyone really buy the publication that purchases these photos? What I'm saying is that within hours of being released, the photos will be on every celeb website and every news website and pretty much every other venue known to man.
•   I have my baby pictures that I will sell too. You don't have to be a millionaire to purchase them. No contract and publication rights are necessary. Think of it! You could be the proud owner of an original infant picture of "The Don." Come on! This is great news for all of you would be parents who don't have your own kid pictures to show off. Imagine, showing friends a picture of me! They'd marvel at the beauty of it all...Maybe not. I guess that I'll just hold on to them for another half-century. What the hell do you do with your baby pictures when you die? I never thought of that. Do you need them for anything? I mean are you required to carry them around like an identification card? A green card? What? Proof of Birth?
•   I'm sure that PittLie will put the baby picture funds to good use somewhere. At least they're not Al Franken's kids! Mine? I guess I'll just keep mine. You never know when you may need to show them to someone. Even if for free...-Don.
  

Blind Leading The Blind

 A childhood friend and I went to the drivers license bureau this morning to renew our licenses. His expired in February & mine in Jan. We think much alike. This buddy of mine is totally insane! His wife only lets us go somewhere together because she's too busy to take him. He doesn't drive. He's blind! He uses his license only for i.d., and he has this huge doberman as his guide dog. The dog's name is Bosley. So, me and my friend and Bosley get to the bureau about 10:00. The damned place is wall-to-wall people. I mean literally there are people sitting outside waiting to get in there.
  We just walk in and immediately he and Bosley attract alot of attention. I'm 6'4" and 215. He's 6'5" and 260 and Bosley is about 120 lbs. Naturally, people look. Mostly at those two. We walk up to the desk and a trooper standing there says to take a number. I don't take one but my buddy tries too. He can't see the thingy hanging there so he grabs the paper cup holder hanging on the wall instead. People begin to smirk and so do I. This guy is crazy as hell! My homey says in a loud voice to the cop that he wants to renew his license. Of course you can see the look on peoples faces. I turn to some that are sitting there and say, "Yeah, no shit. You should have seen him driving here." Duh.
  We only stayed about 10 minutes though. It was just too damned crowed and Bosley had to go outside to piss on some tires. Well, we still both have expired drivers licenses, but it was a cheap thrill anyway. But I wish y'all could have been there to see him driving back home! Yeah, no shit!-Just a blind observation-Don.

How I Struck Out Jesus

  I just recently signed up for Entrecard. Most of you are familiar with it. Shortly after my account activated the ads started pouring across my dashboard. Y'all know how that works. Anyway, I check out these sites because I want to know what they're about and whether or not I want them to advert on my site. I love saying no!
  Right off the bat I began getting alot of spiritual, family and/or religious oriented sites wanting to place their links on BLF. Now I don't have a problem with Jesus personally, but somehow I didn't think it a good idea to have him on this site. Well, I began declining these adds as fast as I got them. Then I was feeling a little guilty...I struck Jesus out! I mean I haven't had a single Jesus pic or ad come across the BLF wire service since I sent him packing.
  Well, think me not a bad person. In light of the fact that Jesus might be pissed at me - again, I will publish an adorning image of Christ in my sidebar. When I asked,"What Would Jesus Do?" that's what I came up with. I think that Jesus would want to sit proudly in my sidebar. Ya know, keeping an eye on me and you. So without further adieu and with my usual sincerest of effort - I present you Jesus. Even He loves me!

Why I Hate Jimmy Swaggart--Still! ( From: 7/12/08 )

• About 20 or so years ago, a good friend of mine used to call me to come over and watch Jimmy Swaggart on the tube. We'd have the beer iced down and ready to rumble-with the t.v. that is. First of all, we both despised Jim and Tammy Faye Baker already. Butt ass ugly folks too! This made it all the easier to start watching Swaggart by putting him in their shoes and tagging him a phony from the get go. Well, we'd sit down and put the bricks in a neat stack next to the couch. Yeah, that's right--bricks. They were foam rubber and a great form of anger management provided they were strategically launched at Swaggart's fat head.


• Swaggart was born a leech. Nobody could grow into one like he is. Not from a normal kid anyway. You could, however, be born one and improve greatly on their characteristics. He really suckered a helluva lot of people with his begging. People actually bought (literally) into his schemes. How the hell is that possible when me and my buddy of all people could see right through his bullshit?


• Ole Swaggart did not and still does not preach like Billy Graham. You know, the more ecumenical style. Jimmy boy takes alot after Oral Roberts I guess. He certainly took a page or two from Roberts' playbook when he built his Family Worship Center in Baton Rouge. It seated about 7500 hand waving, sweaty, foot stomping worshipers. Can I get a witness? Amen!


• I first realized that I hated Swaggart for his phony crying and forced fits of sweating, and I hated him for his hair...hate that shit! Still hate the hair. Then came the built in infomercials that were cloaked to look like a pitch for Jesus. "I love Jesus. You love Jesus. Jesus needs money, now! Send what 'cha got." For your hard earned bucks you get a prayer. People fell for this crap hook, line and sinker. Hallelujah! Can I get a witness?


• In Feb. '88 the ole blood sucking leech went the way of his nemesis Jimmy Bakker. The Hollywood hooker trick. Yeah, some little hooker hooked his dumbass and he got busted. Oh brother, the ultra hypocrisy of it all. And damned people were so sorry for him that they were crying in the aisles of his holy stomping ground in Baton Rouge. WTF was that about for Christs' sake? Hell, should have just sent him some money. God, he really brainwashed a ton of poor dumb bastards. I hate him for that reason too. Hallelujah!


• I hate him for his rant and rave on his show asking for forgiveness from his family, the people and Jesus. Come on now...I need an amen! How f**ked up was that? This guy doesn't get it I suppose. Hell, I'm not sure that I do either. He doesn't confuse me. It's all of those people that believe this fool that confuse me.


• I happened to notice Swaggart and his son, Donnie, doing another show recently. Oh shit-seriously! He's still asking for money, of course. Come on people! I was doing a little channel surfing and caught some of it. God, I became angry again just at the sight of him. He still has the Breck set with the hair. His dufus looking son and his hair are begging with him now. But you know something? I don't hate him now. Why? Because I hate the fact that I don't have those friggin' bricks to throw at him anymore! That's what I hate. Can I get a witness?-Just a rant and my opinion-Don.

It's Not Quite How It Looks

  My roomate decided she was going to interrupt my very busy schedule this morning. I work so damned hard on this blog and scouring the web for tidbits of knowledge that I seldom have time for a real meal.
  This is yours truly choking down a snack - hands free! She said it was a Freudian issue I'm dealing with. Oh Geez. Give me a break ok? I'm not sure what my hands were doing at the time, but it's a cinch that it was something creative.
  Since it's still raining outside today compliments of Gustav, I'll be bored and tempted to do things that I normally wouldn't do. Like eat a banana while playing with...my hands. If you think this is cool, as I'm sure you must, you should have seen me wiping my butt earlier using only the peel from yesterdays banana and a bottle of Corn Huskers.
  Last but not least is kudos to all of the great entries in humorbloggers.com "sex scandal" writing contest (anybody can vote at www.humorbloggers.net). I know that many of you were driven by real life experiences - some were not. No matter what the source was, I will continue to abstain from illicit and improper sex as long as I have a banana and free hands!-Fame is my destiny. Destruction-my cause!-Don.

Beyond Left Fields' Awards

These are 6 different awards given by a total of 7 different bloggers to each of whom I am grateful.
(Awards as of Sept.30/08). CLICK TO ENLARGE AWARDS!

Sex In An Ltd. And Not A Tool In Sight

Summer of '67

I knew a girl named "Becky". All names I use here are fake because they may read this and have big, ugly ass husbands ok? Becky had a younger sister (about 2 years younger) named Jennifer. Now Becky was pretty cute and had large breast which was very important when you were fifteen. Jennifer was also nice looking and very popular. Jennifer had been exposed to polio when she was little and left crippled. She wore double leg braces, but she managed to get around really well - I mean REALLY well!
There had been rumors going around that Jennifer was promiscuous. I knew that her older sister was. I wanted to find out for myself about her, however. I checked with some buddies to see what they knew. From everything I found out it seemed like it was a good time to give it a shot. I asked Jennifer to go to a movie at The Avanti. It was a really small and sleazy theater. She quickly said yes so I was sure it was going down there. I had made up my mind that the best thing would be to go in the theater and then leave about halfway through the movie. We could get it on in the car in the parking lot. No sweat.
  I don't remember the half of a movie we saw that night. We managed to get out to the parking lot and into the car. I was driving my dad's Ford Ltd. which was about 20' long and 8' wide and weighed about 3 tons I think. Plenty of room no doubt. Not quite. Have you ever tried to throw a couple of bags of golf clubs into the back seat of a car along with all the other crap like the 6' diameter golf umbrella? Opened! That's what it was like trying to fold her into the backseat. Once there the troubles just started. First, getting her straightened out was like trying to throw my old Mustang into first gear. Grab her ankle and push forward! Then I remember getting hit in the mouth and nose by some of the hardest metal I'd ever come in contact with. Once she had become comfortable, it was my turn. I had to ask her to move a little bit. She couldn't. One of her braces was caught on the door handle, and I was not able to get around to unhook it without getting her to sit up first. Finally I just said something like, "F*ck Jenn! Get the f*ck up will ya? Damn, I'm tired of fooling with you!"
  We gave up on the sex. Hell, once I finally managed to get outta the damn back seat she tried. It was like watching someone being extricated with the Jaws of Life. Pitiful. Then she started clanking. Something had come loose, and on the way home every time I hit a bump or pot hole, she clanked! Clank, clank, f*cking clank! I didn't have any tools to shut her up with so I turned on the radio. The Rolling Stones were singing "I Can't Get No Satisfaction." Yeah, f*ck you too Mick!
  I never went out with her or her sister again. In fact, I don't think that I have seen her since...Jenn, if you're out there and reading this, just know that I haven't forgotten that night. Because of you I will always carry a fond memory in my mind and an assortment of tools in my car.-Better you than me-Don.