Apparently, the franchise player of the Racist Logos de Cleveland got a new iPhone or something. More pics here at Deadspin if you're one of Grady's Ladies. Somehow I don't see Curtis Granderson ever being this big of a jackass...unless there's an auction going on.
Trade him and we riot.
UPDATE: It seems that the photos were stolen from Sizemore's computer, so he claims. He has hired the Scooby Doo Detective Agency to help track down the culprit. He's still a douchebag.
Buddy and Edna's Plane ...
Buddy and his wife Edna went to the state fair every year,
And every year Buddy would say,
'Edna,I'd like to ride in that helicopter'
Edna always replied,
'I know Buddy, but that helicopter ride is fifty bucks,
And fifty bucks is fifty bucks'
One year Buddy and Edna went to the fair, and Buddy said,
'Edna, I'm 85 years old.
If I don't ride that helicopter, I might never get another chance'
To this, Edna replied,
"Buddy that helicopter ride is fifty bucks, and fifty bucks is fifty bucks'
The pilot overheard the couple and said,
'Folks I'll make you a deal. I'll take the both of you for a ride.
If you can stay quiet for the entire ride and don't say a word I won't charge you a penny!
But if you say one word it's fifty dollars.'
Buddy and Edna agreed and up they went.
The pilot did all kinds of fancy maneuvers, but not a word was heard.
He did his daredevil tricks over and over again,
But still not a word.
When they landed, the pilot turned to Buddy and said,
'By golly, I did everything I could to get you to yell out, but you didn't.
'Well, to tell you the truth,
I almost said something when Edna fell out,
But you know,
"Fifty bucks is fifty bucks!'
I always wondered what the P.C. did while I slept, now I know ...
Click on name and have a decco!
1. What Your Computer Does At Night
Computer software battling at night. CARTOON HOME What Your Computer Does At Night Software Battles it Out! Computer Humor, computer games, software, windows, Windows XP Share
This next one reminds me of an advert which was shown on TV a couple of years ago advertising Irn Bru juice, but this is funnier and is strictly for the girls ... well why should men have all the fun Enjoy ......
1. The Window Washer
New Window Washing Technique CARTOON HOME The Window Washer New Window Washing Technique window washing technique, washing windows, adult cartoons, pranks, laughing, humour, male
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Inspirational Story - Obstacle in our Path Unknown Author
In ancient times, a king had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king's wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the king for not keeping the roads clear, but none did anything about getting the stone out of the way. Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. On approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. As the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the king indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many others never understand.
If you find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere...
Cheers from the land of the Tartan, Love Kate xxx.
Four months until pitchers and catchers report, and my muse, filty whore that she is, has left me high and dry. I've got nothing, kids. I'm not in the mood to speculate on whatever wild rumors Lynn Henning and others are throwing out there. I don't feel like going into my goofy conspiracy theory of DD secretly hating black folks. (released Sheff, let Thames walk, made Dontrelle go crazy, trade rumors about Grandy and EJax...odd, no?) And my normal ranting and raving with poop jokes mixed in? It gets tiring. (BTW, I'm kidding about the black folks thing. Save your hate mail.)
So, here's what we're going to do. A couple nights ago, as I was trying to calm down the voices in my head and fall asleep, it dawned on me that I've been a Tigers fan for 25 seasons. As we slowly creep towards April, one or two times a week I'll do a little countdown of my 25 favorite Tigers that I've enjoyed watching over the years. I'm going to limit it to guys only from the past 25 years, so obviously there won't be any Cobbs, Kalines, Hortons, Kells, or Lolichs on my list...just players that I watched on a daily basis over the years.
Blake, good friend of DNR, in between his brainwashing of the rich youth of the American Northeast, is counting down every Tiger team ever over at The Spotstarters leading up to the season. So, I'm going to steal his idea a bit, and do my own countdown. Hey...he ripped me off first with his Cup of Coffee piece, see? (Haha...) I'll have stats, career highlights, and yes...probably a bit of poop humor thrown in a bit, too. And if anything important really happens with the team, I'll chime in a bit on that, as well.
So, stay tuned, Happy Holidays, and whatever. And as always, I thank you for stopping by.
I was testing children in my Glasgow Sunday School class to see if they understood the Concept of getting into heaven. I asked them,
that get me into heaven?"
Again, the answer was 'No!'
By now I was starting to smile. "Well then, if I was kind to animals and gave sweeties to all the children and loved my husband, would that get me into Heaven ?"
A six year old boy shouted
I originally intended it to be an advice piece about relationships and communication because that topic has mass appeal and I want to be famous, but no. My article turned out to be mostly about bears.
I wrote about bears because, as I was writing about relationships, I made a bear-related analogy and then it spiraled and the whole thing kind of became bear-themed and before I knew it, I was writing almost entirely about bears.
I'm probably not going to get famous by writing about why women are not like bears, but you never know. I like to think of it as niche-writing.
Anyway, if you want to read my article about why knowing how to tell the differences between women and bears could save your life, then go HERE.
It's kind of about relationships, but it is mostly about bears.
If you suspect that you may have been exposed to a bear, please go to the hospital.
ALSO BEAR RELATED: Remember this?
EMERGENCY UPDATE: A few of you conveniently pointed out some common but often lethal misconceptions about bears:
Tim from infinitely funny blog I'm Not Benny said: "Rosie O Donnell is kind of like a bear. I'm not saying she IS a bear, I'm just saying that there is something called electrolysis in the world and it's not beyond the realm of reason that she might actually be made out of bear.
You know, originally.
So that's why I always ask women if they've had electrolysis. If they say yes I immediately start banging cooking pots together and screaming SHOO BEAR, SHOO!
Bears hate that shit."
Tim, you make a good point because Rosie O'Donell IS the most dangerous halfling shapeshifter there is, but I feel compelled to point out one fatal flaw in your logic: If you were able to successfully shoo the creature away by banging pots and pans, it most likely actually was Rosie O'Donell and NOT a bear. Unless it brutally maimed you and deflowered your skull before it left. Then it was probably a bear. But it could also have been Rosie O'Donell still. It's a fucked up world, Tim.
Carlston from If Carlston Made Blogs (and let me tell you, if Carlston made blogs, they would probably be a lot like this one) said: "I always wondered why my dates kept eating entire tubes of toothpaste until I hid them up trees. Thanks for the insight, Allie"
Again, I feel the need to clarify. Carlston, your dates were most likely WOLVES and not bears. Bears don't give a fuck about toothpaste - they want your blood and there is nothing that can distract them from that ultimate goal.
It can be very difficult to tell what is truly a bear and what is merely a dangerous but not 100% fatal animal. It is very important to understand that if it is not actively destroying you, it is probably not a bear. Even if you think you are safe because you are on top of a mountain and you can see the bear lumbering around in the valley - that's not a bear. If it was a real bear, it would instantly teleport to your pathetic mountaintop and slaughter you without remorse. In fact, most modern-day images of bears are actually of Rosie O'Donell. She is much less aggressive and easier to photograph. It is difficult to say whether anyone has been able to successfully capture a bear on film, but my instincts say it is doubtful. The lack of photo evidence with which to identify bears makes them even more of a threat to your safety.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
A wee piece of the verbiage appearing in our papers in this regard..
"Over and above the Games budget, a further £269 million is being spent on developing 15 venues that will be used for the Games and around £1.6 billion is being spent on improving transport infrastructure. These projects were planned before the bid and are not a cost of the Games. In addition, private developers are expected to meet the costs of constructing the Athletes’ Games Village.
Caroline Gardner, Deputy Auditor General, said: “The Commonwealth Games is a major event for Scotland and attention to detailed planning at this stage is an essential part of contributing to its success. Our report highlighted a potential shortfall in the budget as a risk. Earlier this week the Games budget was increased to £454 million. In the current economic climate public sector finances are already under pressure and it is essential that the organisers keep costs under control. They need to continue to monitor and review the budget assumptions regularly."
Yadda, yadda, yadda... They don't live in the same world as us (hundreds of millions of pounds)? argghhh ...... Do they ?
Whilst looking for a video funny to finish this blog I came across this funny and I must admit that while relaying it to Rob I practically burst a gut ... Enjoy !
Santa was very cross. It was Christmas Eve and NOTHING was going right. Mrs. Claus had burned all the cookies. The elves were complaining about not getting paid for the overtime they had worked making toys, and were threatening to go on strike. The reindeer had been drinking eggnog all afternoon. To make matters worse, a few of the other elves had taken the sleigh out for a spin earlier in the day and had crashed it into a tree.
Santa was furious. "I can't believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours, and all of my reindeer are drunk, the elves are walking out, and I don't even have a Christmas tree! I sent that stupid little angel out HOURS ago to find a tree and he isn't even back yet! What am I going to do?"
Just then, the little angel opened the front door and stepped in from the snowy night, dragging a Christmas tree. The angel said, "Yo, fat man! Where do you want me to stick the tree this year?"
And thus the tradition of angels atop the Christmas trees came to pass...
If you ever attended a game at Tiger Stadium, you no doubt have an opinion of the now demolished ballpark. Lots of people didn't like it there. Obstructed seats, not enough bathrooms, and an outdated design are complaints I've heard. Others just loved the place. The history, the closeness to the field, the overhang in right field. Myself, I loved it there...much more than Comerica Park which I really don't care for. My dad, however, hated it there. He thought it was a dump. Tiger Stadium inspired some sort of feeling in everyone that passed through the gates. It had too many ghosts living there for it not to.
In Tom Stanton's 2001 book, "The Final Season", Tiger Stadium certainly is inspriring to the author. Stanton attended every home ballgame in 1999 in his quest to write a book on the old ballpark and cover it's final year. And yes, he has a blurb about every game, mostly losing ones, that the Tigers played in '99, but this story is more a love story than a baseball reference. It's a story about families and how Tiger Stadium brought them together over the years.
Stanton spends a lot of time talking about his own family going back generations and their connections to the old park. He talks to parking lot attendents, vendors, fans, and even legends like Ernie Harwell (who, if possible, you will like even more after reading this book) about their families and experiences in Tiger Stadium. There are history lessons on several of the all-time greats to play ball at Michigan and Trumbull. Tiger greats like Cobb, Kaline, Horton, and Trammell are all represented. So are many Tigers that you may not have heard of that played over the years.
He paints a picture of Tiger Stadium with his words that brought back many memories of the park that I hadn't thought of in years. I remembered the first time my dad brought me there, the foul ball I caught years later, the time I flipped out, Randy Quaid in Major League 2-style, after a ninth inning collapse. I remember how a friend of mine would tear up when we exited the freeway, came up the hill, and the stadium came into view. (I used to make fun of him for it, but I did it myself at the last game I attended there, knowing the old girl was being closed.)
Anyway, it's a great book to read for those of you that want to reflect...not on the sub-par '99 team the Tigers had...but on a park that housed everyone from Kell, Greenberg, and Lolich, all the way to guys like Fick, Kapler, and Ausmus. If I have a complaint about the book, it is that Stanton spent a bit too much time on his family's history. But then again, that is what the park did to him. It made him think about his family and how the Tigers and Tiger Stadium brought them together over the years.
Check it out if you get a chance. I don't think you'll regret it.
Well this is one babe you can't fool !!!
As you know Rob and I have been spending a lot of time recently re-decorating and re-carpeting our home we're nearly finished and are totally knackered. The thought of actually 'building the house' fills me with total dread and complete admiration for anyone who would attempt to build their home. I've found mind you, that when someone is looking after something which is not theirs - or going to be theirs the care taken of it is never the same ... human nature I guess !
I know this is straying off the subject but when I saw the next item in my mail-box my aged brain thought it would kind of fit in with our present situation. It doesn't' really' but just try and bear with me ... I'm old you see - and I enjoyed the story - so have a decco !!
An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family.
He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by. The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career.
When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter. "This is your house, " he said, "my gift to you."
What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.
So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way, reacting rather than acting, willing to put up less than the best. At important points we do not give the job our best effort. Then with a shock we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized that we would have done it differently.
Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. Build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously and with dignity. The plaque on the wall says, "Life is a do-it-yourself project." Your life tomorrow will be the result of your attitudes and the choices you make today.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Some Funnies from Joke of the Day ...
FIRST TIME USHERS:
A little boy in church for the first time watched as the ushers passed around the offering plates. When they came near his pew, the boy said loudly, "Don't pay for me, Daddy. I'm under five."
The Sunday School teacher asked, "Now, Johnny, tell me, do you say prayers before eating?"
"No, sir," he rplied. "We don't have to. My mom is a good cook!"
CLIMB THE WALLS:
"Oh, I sure am happy to see you," the little boy said to his grandmother on his mother's side. "Now maybe Daddy will do the trick he has been promising us."
The grandmother was curious. "What trick is that?" she asked.
"I heard him tell Mommy that he would climb the walls if you came to vist," the little boy answered.
THE MOOD RING:
My husband bought me a mood ring the other day. When I'm in a good mood, it turns green. When I'm in a bad mood, it leaves a red mark on his forehead.
THE WATER PISTOL:
When my three-year-old son opened the birthday gift from his Grandmother, he discovered a water pistol. He squealed with delight and headed for the nearest sink.
I was not so pleased. I turned to Mom and said, "I'm surprised at you. Don't you remember how we used to drive you crazy with water guns?"
Mom smiled and then replied, "I remember."
LIFE AFTER DEATH:
"Do you believe in life after death?" the boss asked one of his employees.
"Yes, sir," the new employee replied.
"Well, then, that makes everything just fine," the boss went on. "After you left early yesterday to go to your grandmother's funeral, she stopped in to see you!"
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Cheers from the land of the Tartan, Love Kate xxx.
I'm all achy and pokey. Most doctors don't understand what I mean when I say I'm feeling "pokey," but "pokey" is what you feel like when the mere act of existing with other molecules results in an uncomfortable poking sensation on your skin. I can almost feel the particles pinging off of my face.
My stomach feels... crawl-y. If stomachs could crawl sneakily, that's what mine would be doing. I'll be lying on the couch debating whether an empty stomach or a full stomach would be more detrimental to my health and suddenly I feel this little rippling inside of me. I say "Stomach! What the fuck are you doing?" And my stomach makes a little shivering motion and gurgles and I interpret that to mean "Oh nothing... just go back to doing what you were doing. I'm fine. Really. I'm totally fine and not at all trying to sneak away to find another body that doesn't eat things like 'cheese pancakes'"
Cheese pancakes are when you put cheese in a frying pan and then as it's melting, you try to make it into a pancake shape with the spatula.
Anyway, I fell asleep watching "Land of The Lost" yesterday. "Land of The Lost" is not a movie that you should watch if you have a fever and there is any chance whatsoever that you could fall asleep while the movie is still playing.
Now imagine that you were having a dream in which your hands are giant and your body is tiny and you've just figured out that nouns are a conspiracy but every time you try to tell someone about the noun conspiracy they turn into a land-capable shark and then you wake up and you are only several feet away from the television because you fell asleep on the floor and this is what you see/hear:
But bacon can't just be mixed all willy-nilly with everything. Baconnaise should never have happened.
However there are certain things that exist in the world that every person enjoys. Some people don't know that they enjoy these things. Some people won't admit that they enjoy these things, but I'm pretty sure almost everyone, aside from Vladimir Putin and John Wayne Gacy, enjoy them.
Getting a zit is such a turbulent experience, emotionally. On one hand, you are upset because your face has been ruined. On the other hand, you get all giddy and start thinking "I can't wait until I can squeeze this thing! I hope it's the kind that squirts all over the mirror!"
If I was a spiritual leader of some sort, I would say "Think not about the blemish on your face, but about the mass of sebum and bacteria on your mirror."
I would say other things too, though. I wouldn't want my principles branded as "Zit Zen." But I think that is pretty much unavoidable now.
This one is very subtle, but I am convinced that it happens to nearly everyone
Next time you are using a mouse with a designated right-click button, notice the way you feel just before you get to right-click something. There is an almost imperceptible little celebration that happens.
5.) The Last Bite of a Waffle
You know the bite I am talking about. The one that is approximately three squares by two squares and it's stuffed like a turkey with butter and syrup. Not only that, but the waffle has been marinating in syrup for the duration of breakfast and some of the syrup will surely have soaked up into the interior of this glorious bite.
People say that there is no way to explain love and that makes me sad because obviously these people have never eaten a waffle or at least not a waffle with real butter and syrup and that is a tragedy. Either that or they have never experienced love, which is almost as sad. Almost.
There is a distinct feeling I get every time I pass the toy aisle at Wal-Mart. It's like if you were engaged to marry the man or woman of your dreams then suddenly decided that you needed to take a plane to Pittsburgh and the plane crashed and everyone died except for you and you walked away from the incident as a double above-the-knee amputee and that was the meanest joke ever but I still said it because I didn't even realize what I was saying until it was too late and by the time I noticed, it was already too funny so I just left it in there because it somehow lightens the mood when you find out that after the plane crash, the person you had loved is prejudiced against disabled people and he/she leaves you for a centaur and you somehow end up attending the same PTA meetings and all you can do is look across the room at your ex-fiance and the centaur and think "I used to be so happy..."
That's how the toy aisle at Wal-Mart makes me feel.
Sometimes I buy a toy and then I get a feeling like I walked across the room to the centaur and I said "bitch, I'm going to rape him because he is rightfully mine!" And then I realized that I had legs the whole time and I was never a double amputee and I don't actually have to rape my ex-fiance because he still loves me and we tame the centaur and keep it as a pet and it isn't even mad at me because I give it bacon beer all the time and centaurs love bacon beer.
I think this may be the best thing I have ever written.
P.S. I talked about blow jobs twice in one post. I get fifteen points.
COMPLETELY UNRELATED UPDATE: I'm totally going to start taking screenshots of my followers widget so that when someone un-follows me, I can find out who's missing and track them down and become all emotional on their blog. Then they'll log in one day and find this:
"WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?????!!! I THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO BE TOGETHER FOREVER, YOU FUCKING CUNT BASTARD!"
If you guessed that the phrase "fucking cunt bastard" was a trap, you would be right. Just try to leave me now, Asshole. I'm super creepy and totally capable of finding you.
When I picked up Sasha from the vet, she was all dopey and looked almost dead. I picked her up and held her to my chest to keep her warm and she stared up at me with her big, confused eyes because I'm sure she had no idea what was happening but she was glad I was there. It was like watching a small child trip on acid. Not that I have ever done that or would ever do that, but I can certainly imagine that it would at least somewhat resemble what a rat on Isoflurane and opiate pain relievers looks like.
My point is that it was heartbreaking.
My sympathy has faded a little since I brought her home. She's obviously fine and I'm pretty sure she has figured out how to guilt me into giving her treats. She started trying to chew out her stitches, so I gave her a banana. She ate the banana and then left the stitches alone for a little while. The next time she started chewing at her incision, I gave her another piece of banana to distract her. She soon figured out that chewing on stitches = banana. Now, she goes to chew on her stitches and I give her a piece of banana and she sets the fucking banana down, looks straight at me and starts nibbling her stitches again like "Oh, I'm sorry... did you want me to stop doing this? You don't want me to make myself bleed all over the place? Well, then I would suggest that you give me more bananas..."
Operant conditioning is a bitch sometimes.
Anyway, that's why I wasn't around today.
P.S. I'm sorry about the clown train.
P.P.S. You know what? Fuck John Wayne Gacy too. I didn't know who John Wayne Gacy was, so I googled that shit and now I'm never going to sleep again ever. I got sucked into reading every detail of his life and couldn't stop even though I desperately wanted to and Boyfriend saw what I was reading and he was like "Oh no! What are you doing????? Stop it!" because Boyfriend can see the future and he knew that I was going to make him put another deadbolt on our door. And guess what? He was right.
I answered all the questions honestly and I thought the results were going to be like "yeah, you have ADHD, it's really no big deal, lots of people have it, go to the doctor and get some Ritalin and you'll be fine."
But no. That's not what they said.
They said "Serious ADHD Likely!"
And they gave me an HTML code so that I can put a button on my website announcing to the world that my test results came back and guess what? "Serious ADHD Likely!"
Okay, first of all, did they have to throw the word "serious" in there? Like "No, you don't just have ADHD. You have SERIOUS ADHD. That's the terminal kind. We're sorry. But doesn't this fun font kind of make you feel at least a little better?"
And what's with the exclamation point? Are they excited or yelling at me? Are they accusing me of having ADHD or congratulating me? "Serious ADHD Likely!" can really be interpreted in any number of ways:
1.) Celebratory: "Congratulations! Serious ADHD Likely!"
2.) Damning: "Serious ADHD Likely! Welcome to Hell, Motherfucker!"
3.) Alarmist: "Serious ADHD Likely! Run away!!!"
4.) Joking: "Serious ADHD Likely! April fools! Just kidding!"
5.) Sneaky: "Surprise! Serious ADHD Likely!"
6.) Jeering: "OMG! LOL! Serious ADHD Likely!"
7.) Mocking: "Neener, neener, neener! Serious ADHD Likely!"
8.) Incredulous: "Serious ADHD Likely! I can't believe it!"
9.) Insane: "Serious ADHD Likely! I think corn tastes like banjo pie! Planes!!!!!!!!!"
10.) Rueful: "Serious ADHD Likely! Oh no!"
11.) Accusatory: "Serious ADHD Likely! Get her!!"
12.) Angry: "Serious ADHD Likely! How dare you have Serious ADHD! Young lady, what would your mother think?"
13.) Relieved: "Serious ADHD Likely! Oh man, I thought I was going to have to tell you that you had AIDS!"
14.) Bereft: "Serious ADHD Likely! OH GOD NO! NO, NO, NO!!! GOD!!!!!!!!!! WHAT HAVE I DONE??????"
15.) Amused: "Serious ADHD Likely! Huh."
16.) Cautionary: "Warning! Serious ADHD Likely! Also possibly flammable!"
17.) Santa: "Serious ADHD Likely! And to all a good night!"
18.) Sarcastic: "Serious ADHD Likely! Cancel all your life plans, this is one serious disorder that you have. I mean it. You are pretty much doomed to a life of secrecy and lies, destined to be forever chained in your basement like the freak that you are."
As you can see, the statement "Serious ADHD Likely!" is quite open for interpretation, and I am confused. To make it worse, there is a picture of an orange blob that kind of looks like a paint-by-numbers picture of a baby head that is on fire. Or maybe the baby's head is made out of fire. I don't know what to make of it, but it can't be a good sign. It makes me think that they probably meant the phrase to sound damning, like "Serious ADHD Likely! Welcome to Hell, Motherfucker! Have you ever painted a picture of a baby that is one fire? If you haven't don't worry. There are little numbers here to tell you where to put which color of paint. You'll catch on soon enough and you'll have plenty of time to practice because it is what you are going to be doing for all of eternity. That's right. Hell is an infinite series of somewhat disturbing paint-by-number projects. I bet you wish that you had lied a little on that ADHD test, huh?"
Anyway, I just re-read my post from yesterday and I realized that it kind of sounded like I was trying to justify removing my blog's feeding tube, or something. Like it wouldn't be able to survive on its own without medical intervention.
And that is not the case. It was not at all a goodbye. It was more of a "I hope you still like me when or if I start writing posts about ten different topics that have no real connection even though you feel like they should, but no - they definitely don't and don't even try to connect them because there is no possible way to connect Jesus, Swiss cheese, miniature golf courses, unicorns, black holes, cats and mutton."
The good news is that I am funnier when I'm unmedicated. At least I think so. But that might be because I am unmedicated and thus very easily entertained by myself. I'm not kidding. When I am trying to tackle life without Adderall, give me a paper clip and a ball of yarn and I will either Macguyver you a better mousetrap or ignore the paper clip entirely and just bat the ball of string around like a cat. Either way, I will be able to entertain myself for at least 45 minutes or until something more entertaining comes along, whichever one comes first but I'm willing to bet it will be the second one because come on, who pays attention to anything for 45 minutes straight when the world is full of objects, some of which are moving and others of which are sparkly? Maybe Bear Grylls, but I'm sure even he has been distracted by a SuperBall from time to time. Or maybe not. I don't know. I'm not God.
In fact, things probably won't even change that much around here. Maybe they'll even get better. Maybe I'll... hold on for just a second...
Can I show you something?
You are probably the creepy clown. Go to the doctor. Get that shit checked out.
I think clowns should sue Stephen King for ruining their credibility. If Stephen King never wrote "It" clowns would still be the harbingers of fun and laughter. But not anymore. Since Stephen King wrote "It" clowns have become as scary as children. And children are only scary because Stephen King wrote "The Shining." You know what? Fuck Stephen King. Because of Stephen King, every time I see a set of twin girls, I get all panicky and I start to taste bile in the back of my throat, but no matter how scared I am I can't help feeling bad for their mother because she has to live in a constant state of fear and apprehension because not only are they twins but chances are that someday they are going to want a clown to come to their birthday party and then the universe will implode because that is way too many creepy things all in one place at one time and that is how black holes are created. They didn't teach you that in science class, but it's true. And you know what else they didn't teach you in science class? When your dog dies of rabies, that's Stephen King's fault because I'm pretty sure he created rabies too. And Syphilis. We should probably assassinate Stephen King preemptively before he makes better AIDS. Clown AIDS. Shit.
We need a counter-strike. I'm pretty sure the only thing that can counter clown AIDS is unicorns, so we'll need about 8,000 of those and then maybe some cheese because it is a known fact that rabid, AIDS-ridden clowns cannot resist cheese and we'll need something to distract them while the unicorns are getting into formation. It's got to be Swiss cheese though, because I'll be damned if I ever feed a clown cheddar. That would be like shoving a dollar bill into a gum-ball machine. It wouldn't work and you'd never get it back. Just trust me on that one.
I bet you didn't think I was serious when I said that I'd write about all of those things that I listed earlier. Well, you have underestimated me. You may be thinking "but Allie, you haven't written about mutton or Jesus yet..." But don't worry... I'll get to it.
Do you know what I bet Jesus liked to eat?
It would have been too easy to just say "mutton."
P.S. I promise that not every post will be this random. But some will be. I like to inject a little WTF from time to time. It's good for you guys. Like mutton. And Jesus.
I love the next floral pattern it looks to be a sort of Cherry Blossom bush or tree and am looking to buy some for one of the walls in my bedroom, I've searched everywhere and as yet have been unable to trace where I can buy some... can't even remember where I found the picture so can't trace the pattern that way, should anyone know where I would be able to trace some I would be very much obliged ... Thanks !
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Short funny story of a sick child and his Mother ...
A child came crying to his mother and complained that he has severe stomach-ache. She told him, “It is because your belly is empty. Come and have some food.” The child obeyed.
The next day the mother had a heavy head ache.The child consoled her, saying innocently, “Mommy, it is because your head is empty!” On another occasion, the curious child asked his mother, “Mommy, why are some of your hairs turning grey?” She tried to use this occasion to reform him. “It is because of you, dear. Every bad action of yours will turn one of my hairs grey!” The child replied innocently, “Now I know why your mother has only grey hairs on her head.” ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
The next day the mother had a heavy head ache.The child consoled her, saying innocently, “Mommy, it is because your head is empty!”
On another occasion, the curious child asked his mother, “Mommy, why are some of your hairs turning grey?” She tried to use this occasion to reform him. “It is because of you, dear. Every bad action of yours will turn one of my hairs grey!” The child replied innocently, “Now I know why your mother has only grey hairs on her head.”
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
They're back ... Thank God for church ladies with typewriters. These sentences actually appeared in church bulletins or were announced in church services:
The sermon this morning: "Jesus Walks on the Water."
The sermon tonight: "Searching for Jesus."
Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It's a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.
Don't let worry kill you off - let the Church help.
Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.
This evening at 7 PM there will be a hymn singing in the park
across from the Church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.
The Associate Minister unveiled the church's new tithing
campaign slogan last Sunday: "I Upped My Pledge - Up Yours."
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
and here's some funnies from ... Joke of the day. com site ...
One Easter Sunday morning as the minister was preaching the children's sermon, he reached into his bag of props and pulled out an egg. He pointed at the egg and asked the children, "What's in here?"
"I know!" a little boy exclaimed. "Pantyhose!"
SUPPORT A FAMILY:
The prospective father-in-law asked, "Young man, can you support a family?"
The surprised groom-to-be replied, "Well, no I was just planning to support your daughter. The rest of you will have to fend for yourselves."
Little Johnny asked his grandma how old she was.
Grandma answered, "89 and holding."
Johnny thought for a moment, and then said,
"And how old would you be if you let go?"
Cheers from the land of the Tartan, Love Kate xxx.