Take some pride

Getting Schooled

I was walking downstairs a few minutes ago and I noticed in the dining room, under the table, the dark, angry eyes of my lesbian attorney, an Australian Shepard named Beth. She recently came out to me, as part of some sort of national Price celebration and things have really gone way down hill fast since then, thus the angry stare as I walk thru the dining room on my way to pick up a fresh cup of coffee.

Feeling this uncomfortable in my own house has made me start to think crazy things, not psycho crazy things like chewing her face off, but crazy things like moving my coffee pot up to my office to avoid eye contact with my Jewish lesbian Australian attorney. I had made it to the kitchen and poured the remains of my cup into the sink, added a brisk little bit of half and half and someone began slamming their fist against my front door.

Now, I live in the ghetto and when people slam their fist against your front door it is generally one of two things, either the police about to bust in with a warrant, for a crime I am damn sure about to plead innocent of, or a criminal about to beat me upside the head, shoot my lesbian Australian Jewish attorney (again!) and make off with my illegal counterfeit Brittany Spears classic CD collectors edition t-shirt business. Instead, it was an angry butch lesbian (ABL).

How do I know she was an angry butch lesbian (ABL)? “Hey, you the guy who writes that blog about life in some ghetto?”

“Yeah, kind of. Yeah.” I said, not yet pouring my second cup of coffee and wondering why my own angry Jewish lesbian was still laying down under the god damned dining room table. Oh right, her own ass is much more fascinating than this angry lesbian standing right at the front door.

“This ain’t no ghetto and there is a big fuckin’ difference between gay and lesbian.”

I was about to be schooled, but not on one cup of coffee. I started with, “if you’ll excuse me for a second, I just need to put some coffee in my cup, could you wait right here?” She was already a couple of steps in my house and on a knee, petting Beth. Lesbians, I said to myself, as I turned and walked into the kitchen.

What I learned from the Angry Butch Lesbian(ABL), who by the way demanded that I refer to her as the Angry Butch Lesbian if I was going to refer to her at all. ABL was nice enough to explain to me that you can be gay and be both a man or a woman, and you can be a lesbian and be gay, but you can’t be a man and be a lesbian, except I pointed out, “Ellen DeGeneres.” She looked at me when I said that like she might kick me in the Lohan’s, so I smiled like I was funny and she said, “So this ain’t no ghetto,” ABL proclaimed, “I grew up in a ghetto, this is, like, paradise compared.”

“Yeah, I grew up in surburbia, this is the ghetto.”

I guess, in life, it is all a matter of perspective. For ABL a ghetto is much worse than having a woman who screams almost night and day at a 2 year old “shut the fuck up you stupid son of a bitch” and for me, that is a sure sign you live in a ghetto.

“Another thing,” ABL started, “you should quit referring to all lesbians as lesbians.”

“What?” I asked, as if the Angry Butch Lesbian had just said the stupidest thing in the world.

“Some of us don’t really like the term lesbian, it’s too scientific. Me? I’m a dyke.”

“So you would rather be called a dyke rather than a lesbian?”

“I’d just as soon a fat middle aged bozo not refer to me at all.”

“Yeah, wait right there. I am far from a fat middle aged bozo. First, the Union of Bozo Americans get pissy whenever I mention bozo’s, because apparently, I am nothing close to being a bozo, I don’t measure up, if you can believe that. Second, I have lost 40 pounds in just the last year.”

“Seriously?”

“No, what you think I was, some sort of hippo?”

“Still, you all sorts of fat.”

“So some rad dyke shows up at my house to tell me not to bag on lesbians, do I have that right?”

“And quit calling your neighborhood a ghetto.”

“Can I finish my coffee now?”

“Yeah, long as we clear.”

“We clear.”

The angry butch lesbian (dyke) left soon after petting my own angry butch lesbian Australian attorney before leaving. My coffee cold and my attitude changed from happy to bereft, because I was pretty sure that I indeed inhabited not only a ghetto, but a ghetto I shared with a militant Jewish lesbian Australian who had returned to the confines of the underside of my dining room table shade, only to consume herself with parts of her body that were both foreign to me and disgusting to me all at the same time.

Book book

It's true, this Sunday is Fathers Day, a fake holiday for lazy mothers and semi-retarded children to find illogical reasons to purchase crap to try and remind their fathers that they exist.
Want a real gift for a father? How about not spending something? How about a book that will remind daddy why he is a right wing nut case without logic or humor? Here it is, right here and on Sunday, it's free. Beat that.
Well, don't beat that, because then you would not be free gifting daddy the amazing book Dancing with Mannequins and Idiots, "quites possibly the most important political book I have downloaded this week" Bill O'Reilly.
So, Sunday, anytime on Sunday, you or anyone who even looks like you, can download it and read it, or have your father read it, or your step-father read it, or that alcoholic loser your mother keeps telling you is your father, have him read it, if he remembers how to read. Yeah, have him read it.
Either way, it's free and at that price, it's hard to beat.
"At that price, it's hard to beat." Mitt Romney - political has been, 2012

Call me crazy

I started posting these videos when I found that Harvard baseball team singing along to Call Me Maybe and thought it was cute or something. Then I just thought I should post all the others.
Well not all the gay models who the gay directors at Abercromebie and Mindless Moronic Shit Clothes have come out with this crap. Since I am now legally bound to post all these videos, here you go, I hate to have to post the perfect shirtless bodies bouncing around singing this mindless song, but I will.

More headlines that worry me

Gretchen Carlson Walks Off 'Fox And Friends' After Brian Kilmeade's Sexist Comment, PHOTOS: Miranda Kerr Is A Braless Wonder, Actress Faces Up To 3 Years In Jail, New MacBook, iPad Factory Worker Commits Suicide, Obama Makes Light Of Private Sector Remark In Ohio Speech On Economy, Reporters Kicked Out Of Mitt Romney Event, EGYPT'S PARLIAMENT DISSOLVED, Video Reveals American Teens Lack Basic Knowledge...

On the road

Here is something.
On Fathers Day, which is, of course, a completely fake holiday, you or someone you know can grab a FREE copy of the most important book ever written. Yes the Bible of the Republican 2012 campaign for the presidency will be free on Sunday June 17th.
Grab it HERE.
Free all day.
So if you are either Jewish or just super cheap, you can give the gift that keeps on giving to either your father or yourself, just by clicking that link on Sunday and downloading the book.
Don't have a Kindle? Amazon will let you download some super crappy software that will allow you read any book you want on any sort of device you own. How easy is that? You know what else that does? Removes the excuse for reading the book. Damn.
So, Sunday, download Dancing with Mannequins and Idiots, maybe some software to read it and enjoy.

Cycle till it hurts

As most people have been doing lately, I have been spending the last few days stealing a sidewalk.
What? Everyone has not been spending the last few days stealing a sidewalk?
Well, then, that’s probably because they were mixing cement in a 5 gallon bucket to build the staircase on the side of a hill. That’s probably why people have not had the time to steal their sidewalls.
Since I got a head start, I finished my staircase on the hillside, so I have been busy stealing my sidewalk. Now as all you sidewalk stealers know, sidewalks are uniquely designed to not be stolen. They are embedded into the ground, making it almost impossible to actually steal.
I am lucky, the home next to me is set to be demolished and there is a sidewalk that leads to the back door, and I am in the process of stealing it, where it will be installed in my backyard connecting to the new stairs. How about that?
Well, this morning, I was having trouble moving a 200 pound section and I asked my son to help me with the piece. He was nice enough to offer a hand and we were pushing it and lifting, twisting and rolling it and then we both heard this loud snapping sound coming from my lower spine and then I was laying on my back.
He offered to call the ambulance.
I just laid there.
I did not move for quite some time, but I did get to my knees. After some time I was able to get to my feet and I could hobble, but I could not stand up straight, hobbling instead like an elderly Jewish man. We made it to the kitchen were he hovered around me and kept asking if I needed to see an emergency room doctor. I kept refusing, telling him instead that I was familiar with these moments and while the adrenaline was flowing we should try and finish moving the 200 pound cement block. He hemmed and hawed, but we went back outside, me still unable to straighten, but we were going to give it a shot.
We got as far as prepping to lift the block. I could not lift anything, not even so much as grab a serious hold of it, much less lift it.
We were done for the day. No emergency room. I was located onto the couch and my son disappeared. I told him I would be cycling later and he mentioned that I might just be insane.
It’s close to 7 hours since our morning of cement moving attempts. I just finished the most grueling cycling ride I have had in years, the sweat still pouring off my face as I type this.
Not a bad day.

Almost as good as Harvard