James and the Force Fed Flatulence

Okay, let me lay some shit out for you here about my past. I recently have crossed paths with a lad I used to play with in my toddler days, and I've got a bone to pick with the dude. Mmkay? mmmkay:

James and I used to play together when we were little kids (my mom babysat him when his mother went to work at the cardboard box factory.) I had this Tonka truck. Really awesome Tonka truck, complete with a scooper (it was a yella tractor truck.) I got it as a present for finally going on the big boy potty.
James was always jealous of the fact that I was only 4 years old and could grow armpit hair at such a young age. So what does the little bitch do?

Peep this: He takes the scooper part OFF of my Tonka truck, farts in it, and then holds it to my face. Bitch puts it over my mouth and nose like it's a sawdust mask and pins me down, cause he was always bigger and stronger than I. Uh huh. And he did this on several occasions. Mom never believed me.

And now several years later, here we are, reunited in the real world. Years of therapy later, and I still can't make sense of the farting in the scooper thing. I can still smell it as if it were yesterday. Like deviled eggs and fish. SO. Game motherfuckin' ON. It's payback time. James' ass is grass, and I'm the lawnmower. It's time toupee the fiddler.

This is all to help me get on with my life once and for all. And I wanted to share this story with you, my faithful Meat Smoothie readers, just in case things get a little out of hand and I end up in the slammer for a while.

James: I just ate a buttload of White Castles and baked beans, and I'm comin' after you, boy.

Special thanks to the talented tag team who inspired the telling of this frightful tale. You know who you are...

This Valentines Day, I'm popping the question. Wish me luck!

Tonight I have very special plans for a very special someone out there.

I'm going to start by making my special homestyle fried chiggen for dinner. It will be accompanied by a side of buttered and lightly salted grilled asparagus, mashed tayters, homemade white gravy, and the most incredibly delicious glazed carrot coins a person could ever hope for. I haven't decided yet if I want to go with buttermilk biscuits or garlic toast, but I'm leaning towards the garlic toast.

It will be complimented by a slightly chilled bottle of wine, and an ice cold carafe of water just to cleanse the palette.

Then, after dinner will come the proposal. I'm so nervous about this! But life is all about taking risks. Like I've always said - I refuse to grow up to be the old man in the old folk's home looking back at my life playing the "wish I wooda" game. Hells no, that's not my style. Life is too short, so speak up or you'll wish you would have; knowwhatI'msayin? And that's certainly the case in regards to this evening.

We'll retire back to the kitchen where the proposal will take place - right before desert. I will pop the question to Frank and he will generously accept.

I mean, of course he will. What cat wouldn't want some kitty treats after dinner?

Febrooary is National Dirty Onion Armpit Awareness Month

Says who? Says me.

I walked past 4 people today (all men, mind you), and fer cryin' out loud. Put on some fucking deodorant, man! Seriously.

Sure, we all have those days where we're in a hurry and forget. Or we're overly active at times playing tennis, jogging, or even simply crouching in the bushes for hours on end stalking our would-be loved ones. The stuff wears off. Shit happens.

However, the people whose repugnant funk left me gasping today I know for a fact are not regular users. They are the people that have become so acclaimated to their own bouquet that they don't realize things have become a little stale over the years. Or they simply just don't give a rat's ass.

Case in point: Mr. Workplace Maintenance Man. Or Pigpen as I've dubbed him. An absolutely brutal adversary to all things in regards to applying pitstick. Every place I've ever worked at has had at least one Pigpen, and this guy immediately won the title at my current job. Just like the Peanuts character, there's an aura of dirty onion vapour surrounding him 24/7. And it trails up to 50 feet behind him (that's not an exaggeration - my co-workers will vouch for me), sometimes taking up to 10 minutes to dissipate. Dude doesn't simply forget every so often. He's forgotten every day.. since I've been working there, at least.

And it's embarrassing, because 5 minutes after he walks down the hall, you'll be walking in it and someone exits an office door, sees you, and immediately assumes you're the culprit. Sort of like the guy who farts in the elevator and gets off for the remaining passengers to be bewildered when the doors open on the next floor. All they can do is helplessly watch people step inside and wince.

Workplace Pigpen alone is reason enough to declare February National Dirty Onion Armpit Awareness Month. But I encountered 3 more people today - one guy who was even wearing a nice big parka, and gawd damn. If his odor was as loud as it was through a down-filled body-masking forcefield, I can only imagine what it must be like when he takes it off.

So if you all could just give your person a good armpit sniffing and make sure everything's in decent smelling condition, that would be great. And spread the word to everyone else while you're at it.

Together we can all make a difference, people. In the mean time, I'm going to Home Depot to get a face mask and some air sanitizer.

For Sale: 1 Sony™ Micycle™ Edition iPod™ $320.98/firm

Just lookie here at what I have in store for you, you sexy portable music lover, you:

For Sale: 1 Sony™ Micycle™ Edition iPod™ $320.98/firm

In a last ditch effort to gather monies together to own one of the newer iPods, I’m selling my old one at an exceptional price, while supplies last. I hate to see it go, but I need to make room for my new iPod.

This baby holds up to 700MB of music with stunning CD quality sound. That’s right - 700MB! In old world standards, that’s 1 record album's worth of music. If you're listening to the Ramones, that means you can fit nearly 30 songs in this iPod at any given time! Sony™ Micycle™ Edition iPod™ will play up to 80 minutes of music.

Tired of scrolling through countless menus with that pesky iPod dial? The Sony™ Micycle™ Edition iPod™ has got you covered. This iPod has stop, pause, fast forward, reverse, and even skip buttons! You can randomize song playback, even repeat songs you want to hear over and over again!

There’s also a unique EQ feature: 2 bass boosting presets that provide enough bottom to keep you raisin' the roof in even the noisiest of environments!

It features an easy to read non-illuminated display screen that shows you which track you're listening to as well as how much time has elapsed and which EQ preset you're currently using. That means there's no more of those complex battery-hogging video screens that are too small to watch anything on anyhow (that's what teevee and movie screens are for, you silly goof!)

If you act now, I'll throw in some extra memory for your Sony™ Micycle™ Edition iPod™. I’m offering 10 pieces of fresh, new, high quality CD-R media to the lucky buyer, free of charge. That's an additional 7000MB of storage up to 13.3 hours more music!

Now let's talk about looks. The Sony™ Micycle™ Edition iPod™ is a beautiful midnight blue color with brilliant glitter inlay if you look close enough. It also features a 5 year old CHECKED FOR ACCURACY sticker from Taco Bell to give it that retro worn-in look that everyone's going after these days. You know what they say: "Old.. it's the new New!"

Act now, as this baby is going to sell fast. I'm willing to accept an even trade for a like new 60 gig iPod if you're sick of yours and want to go old school. You'll be the envy of your friends when they see you carrying it around. And how nice will it be when they ask you where they can get one? You can proudly say "Well, you can't get one. This is a Sony™ Micycle™ Edition iPod™. Only one was made, and it’s mine. Mine. All. Mine."

The phone lines are open. Cash and money orders only, please.

I'm in the midst of a moderately peculiar dream.

I can’t remember exactly how it started, but one of the first things I remember about this dream is punching my alarm clock because it was making a horrendous amount of hullabaloo oh so early in the morning.

The punch silenced the alarm clock and Frank, who I guess was sleeping next to my head gave me a reeereooowll raaaaraah? meow when he saw me sit up.

I got out of bed and ate two bowls of Target’s Market Pantry brand corn flakes seasoned with a wee pinch of sugar. I then showered, shaved and applied product to my hair to give it that thick, rather unkempt front lawn look that I like to go for.

It was the weirdest thing.

Then I headed off to work and got a coffee on the way. A nice waifish tattooed girl was behind the counter and she was rather quiet, I’m guessing because in this dream it was quite early in the morning. She gave me my coffee, told me to have a good morning, and off to work I went.

When I arrived at work, everybody was there that usually is in real life and our server was down. A co-worker asked me if I’d like to see her pictures that she had taken on a recent vacation, and I took a gander. Amongst the many fine pictures was one of a dead half eaten deer that they’d spotted whilst snowmobiling in the northern woods of MN. I told her that the deer wasn’t dead, rather that it was just sleeping.. and suggested that she should use said deer photo as desktop wallpaper at her workstation.

Yeah, I have some pretty weird dreams.

Next thing I knew, I was still at work, but the servers were back up. My boss came in shortly thereafter and asked if everything was working okay and we said “yes.” I put my headphones on and listened to the Cinderella song Coming Home on repeat, 'cause evidently for whatever reason in this dream the song got stuck in my head from out of nowhere. It's a great song though, really.

Then, the strangest thing occurred: Still in my dream, mind you, I started writing a blog about this really weird dream that I was in the middle of and I'll be damned, I posted the darn thing on MySpace.

I’m dying to find out what happens next. This is the most realistic and uneventful dream I’ve ever had… I sure hope things get a little more exciting than this before I wake up and find myself back in the real world.

It's the only real world I know. The one where I’m surrounded by incredibly expensive vintage guitars and my harem of admirers. They’re all at my side swilling ale (and/or sodie pop), listening to music, playing video games, and bugging me to take them out back to my personal amusement park to pet the giraffes and ride on the ferris wheel.

Yeah, if someone could just be a lamb and wake me up so I can get back to that, um… yeeeah… that would be just great. I’ll be sitting here at work stuck in this gawd awfully boring dream in the mean time.

T0day’s c0mput3r tip:

T0day I gav3 my c0mput3r's k3yb0ard a g00d cl3aning aft3r spilling s0m3 0rang3 juic3 0n th3 spac3bar | I t00k it all apart and s0ak3d th3 k3ys in s0apy wat3r |
 
Man’ y0u w0uldn,t b3li3v3 what a dirty m3ss th3r3 is living und3r th0s3 k3ys y0u typ3 with|

W0rd t0 th3 wis3 th0ugh+

If y0u d0 what I did and tak3 all 0f th3 l3tt3rs 0ff 0f y0ur c0mput3r k3yb0ard t0 cl3an it 0ff’ b3 sur3 y0u hav3 a pictur3 0f wh3r3 all 0f th3 k3ys ar3 Supp0s3d t0 g0 0nc3 y0u put it all back t0g3th3r|

It's g0ing t0 b3 a whil3 b3f0r3 I figur3 0ut wh3r3 all 0f th3s3 k3ys ar3 supp0s3d t0 b3... H3LP!

Sinc3r3ly,

Micycl3.

Note to anyone who may have just moved into a new apartment:

If your bathroom window is about 20 feet away from a window in the neighboring complex that appears to be that of a yellow kitchen with me in it, I have one small suggestion:

You might want to close those blinds when you're poopin'.

Pretty please with sugar on top.

I beg you.

No.... really.

When I come home tonight, I want to look out and see a nice miniblind pulled alllllll the way down when I peep across the alley. You've got a good 4-5 hours to comply, as I'm on my way out for the duration of the evening.

I'll fix mine this weekend so you don't have to worry anymore, but in the mean time if you could just be a lamb..