Gravity Droppings from the Sky

Long Road Ahead

2010-09-06T14:37:00.002-04:00

I present you a cliche image of a long road ahead

Decks

2010-07-16T16:42:00.005-04:00

Sometimes a deck can make a great backdrop.

Mirrored

2010-06-18T23:31:00.004-04:00

Half the image was copied and then pasted like a "mirror"

In the original image the spider image was missing a leg, my reasoning for the mirror effect.

More Pictures Please

2009-10-18T12:30:00.003-04:00

Heavily photoshopped.
I don't care what you say.....I like em'.

RIP: Mr. Grasshopper

2009-09-28T22:32:00.006-04:00

Remember last week when I mentioned about that grasshopper squatting in my flower pot. Mother Fucker went and DIED. It's a good thing for my flowers.... however my youngest daughter seemed pretty bent out of shape when we found his rigor mortis carcass clinging to some leaves. It kinda went like this:

Me: Oh hey, the grasshopper's still here

*poke*

Me: He's not moving

*poke*

Me: Oh GAWD his leg fell off!!!!... oh wait he's dead.

*plop*

Me: Into the garbage you go Mr. Grasshopper

Daughter: ........ :(......... Grasshopper's dead :(

I'd like to say that it was the frost that killed him, most family members look into my criminal past (that would be my Brown Thumb!) and think I had something to do with his death. I didn't do it.

Honest.

Brown Thumb

2009-09-21T22:53:00.006-04:00

It seems a grasshopper has set up camp in my flower pot in the front porch. This would explain my brown thumb when it comes to gardening.

I can't really blame him eating my flowers they look really tasty:

Hopefully when he pinches a loaf, it wont be as colourful.

Delicious Word

2009-09-07T23:04:00.004-04:00

The annual trip to the CNE happened. We tirelessly searched for the unholy item that quickly circulated the radio and buzzed about the CNE. We roamed the grounds countless times under the scorching sun, our tired feet and aching bodies howled in pain as we were determined to locate this little shack that held the ungodly abomination.

Some people thought the inventor was a cutting-edge pioneer, others thought we'd burn in hell and were disgusted by man's gluttony and sins. Everyone made valid points. In the end, I decided I must have this food item and determine on my own, if I burn in the bowels of hell or experience nirvana. It was Chocolate Covered Bacon. That's right my bitches - Melted chocolate that enrobes the smoky and salty fibers of the "other white meat" It's everything you'd expect and then some. I did not drop dead from a heart attack, like most hypothesized. In fact I have lived to spread the good word, or perhaps delicious word is more appropriate.....

Rejoice! I'm Still Here!

2009-09-02T23:17:00.007-04:00

Dear God, what has happened to my blogger? It's been two years since I've posted. I am alive, or living, in this thing we call life. I'm too scared to delete my blog since I've put many hours into it, so here it will sit, to remind me of my great writing skillz. Besides my mad writing skillz, I've mastered my photography abilities.... or should I say Photoshop. Yes, Photoshop, it's my new baby. I shall do my best to post every now and then. For whom? Who the fuck knows. For now, let me dazzle you with my amazing photographed and photoshopped images:

Hiding Behind The Initial

2007-05-07T09:38:00.000-04:00

For anyone too cheap, poor, thrifty, stingy, or what have-you, to get your home phone number unlisted has probably dealt with a telemarketing call once or twice in the past hour. I could probably list off a bunch of neat little shitty tricks to pull on these telemarketing bastages but it has been done a myriad of times, and invariably you, the supposed consumer, will be hung up on.
Now don't let me rain on your parade, if you want to discuss dildo's with the newspaper salesman go right ahead. However with the clusterfuck of sensitive people these days, you just might cause someone to sin within their strict religion or possibly end up with a criminal record because your talking to a grade 8 student who just so happens to be underage.

Something we did, which at the time seemed silly, but now quite convenient.... when we requested our new number we chose how our name would be displayed in the phonebook. We chose an initial and our last name. However this initial doesn't belong to myself or my husband. So when someone calls us asking for "J. Doe" we know that it's a telemarketer based on the fashion they are asking. Normally I just say they have the wrong number, and the telemarketer removes us from the list and doesn't call back.

Now you may be saying, "Gravity, you cheap cow just pay the 20 dollar unlisting fee, and move on!!"
But I hate to say, it doesn't always work. Some of those pesky little buggers slip through the wood work and find your number and call you.

And now, someone will say "Gravity, use the 'Do Not Call' list, if they call you back you can get 50 bucks man!!!!" And this wonderful convenience, my friend, is only available in the good ol' U.S. of A. and last time I checked I was residing in Canada, where there is no such law, the last time I checked. So here we've come full circle...... Where I hide behind my initial and cross my fingers.

Toilet Paper War

2007-03-19T18:50:00.000-04:00

It was just recently that I ventured out into the world again sans baby and saw a show. Nothing overly spectacular to most, but just to a comedy club. There was lots of swears which is one of my favourite past-times, but there was also talk on plungers and toilet paper. The comedian described arguments over how the toilet paper should be hung. This got my memory kicking into gear.

A little over a year ago I was living with the in-laws waiting for our new house to be built. Every morning I would wake up to find that the roll of toilet paper was rotated in such a way that the paper would come out from the bottom. Now as shocking as this may seem I normally don't just wake up with a smile, do some jumping jacks and twirl myself into the bathroom, singing showtunes. On most days I trudge myself through the hallway and blindly fumble for the door and lightswitch. I would plunk myself onto the crapper and claw aimlessly for the paper. Then claw some more. Then paw at the roll to make a few rotations hoping that the paper would let go of it's brothers and sisters and fall to the ground. Then I would sigh realizing that the roll had magically flipped over in the middle of the night.

Technically I am hearing the groans of a million internet readers of what a tool I am. But hear this first. Your palms naturally face towards the ground, so when you reach for something, you naturally reach for it and move in a downwards fashion and if any thumb manipulation is needed it's right there in prime position waiting to be beckoned. HOWEVER, if you reach for something so that the palm faces upwards your thumb becomes useless. It just kinda waggles out to the side having some kind of spastic seizure. Sometimes it can't even wiggle in a spastic seizure state at all. It's more comparable to the last few pumps of blood that go into the umbilical cord of a still born baby (now the gasps from a million internet readers)

So back to the crapper, where was I....... oh yes, I would sigh, and then flip the toilet paper back to it's correct state. I did this for two years, but never said a word. I still kinda wonder who was actually at a secret flipping toilet paper war with me, I know it wasn't the T.P. Flipper Fairy because we all know they only work in Mexico.

Toot Toot

2007-03-12T11:08:00.000-04:00

You know your bored when you go around your house taking pictures of crap. Or maybe it's just a sign of the slipping quality of blogger life. Actually I just wanted to post something random, and show my mad skills at photography. I figure someone else might find it just as entertaining to see what the avid artiste I am!! Toot Toot.

English to Toddler-English Dictionary

2006-12-29T10:26:00.000-05:00

Toddler asks:
Mommy, can I touch the baby?

Meaning:
Mother, I want to molest the baby. She is a doll that I must invite to my tea party, but before doing so, the baby must take a trip to the salon.. but hear hear! I am the hairdresser, and have been for 4 years. I also must drop this little realistic doll to the opstetrician, that I too have majored in. I will find great pleasure in poking her eyes out with my streptococcal infected finger nails.

Toddler asks:
Mommy did the baby pooh... can I see?

Meaning:
Mother, I have quite a fancy with fecal matter, not just my own, but this little doll that fell out of your crotch. I must take it too my room so that I can analyze it with my home science kit.

Toddler asks:
Mommy, can I hold the baby?

Meaning:
Mother, let me hold the baby while you do the dishes. I solemly swear that I will not drag her up the stairs by the leg, nor will I prescribe her my delectibly home-brewed tea made from your magical cleaning ingredients hidden under the sink.

Toddler asks:
Mommy can I kiss the baby?

Meaning:
Mother, I just ate peanut butter and I want to determine if this sensationalist news on food allergies is correct. Just think, if your baby succumbs to death, imagine how many lives you will save in the future!!

Toddler asks:
Mommy can I play with the baby?

Meaning:
Mother, I am going to conduct a scientific procedure to discover how many shakes it took that British Nanny to gelatanize the center of a baby's head.

Turtle Rape

2006-11-08T08:53:00.000-05:00

It's turtle rape and the screams still haunt me.

Poop Wishlist

2006-10-16T07:40:00.000-04:00

So how sexy is your poop?

Drink Me

2006-09-29T11:33:00.000-04:00

There's no such thing as bad publicity. However there is such thing as a bad name. Cocaine is now a real drink. It doesn't, however, contain real cocaine. I don't know if this would classify as false advertising. Either way, it gave me a great idea of my own:

(does not contain actual rape juice)

Who Likes Lemon?

2006-09-25T21:27:00.000-04:00

The Original:

The Original, with a twist of lemon:

Bald Baby?

2006-09-15T10:12:00.000-04:00

Do you have a bald baby?!?!
Well let this site help you with that:

Bald Baby

Adults are Assholes

2006-09-12T19:07:00.000-04:00

Last week we tried to enjoy the CNE. However with the absence of public hangings, we now have the annual air show. I think people only enjoy them in hopes of a bloody end. Our luck was we ended up gridlocked on the highway with rubber neckers enjoying the show.

While in line to get into the grounds of the CNE, we had a young couple bud in front of us. Since I'm not normally used to someone being so blantantly rude, I assumed they were with someone who was also in front of us. After some time, I realized this was not so. I was forced to take some action, I took my baby stroller and kept ramming it into the woman's heels. They said nothing about my actions. So all I have to say is fuck you lady, fuck you for budding in front of a family with two young children, you are a fabulous cunt, I hope maggots crawl into your eyes and shit on your brain.

Upon entering the grounds we are greeted with yet ANOTHER line to purchase tickets. And again, (let this be a warning of carnival visitors, keep your eye on the line.) Yes folks my eyes are cancerous, my attention span caught the A.D.D., and the cat pulled out and swallowed my tongue, because some faggot inched his way in - in front of us. Not a child, but an adult! I think we're seeing a trend here. Adults are assholes.

The Un-original Jokster

2006-09-06T20:04:00.000-04:00

My little comic scenario has come up many times. I think I would like to stab myself in the ear with a ball point pen.
Click picture for large

Ivory

2006-08-31T11:54:00.000-04:00

I think it's growing more apparent, that I spend my life in the car:

Daughter: "Mommy, what do elephants do to you?"

Me: "If you leave them alone, nothing"

Daughter: "What about their big giant teeth?"

Me: "Those are tusks, kind of like a horn, and they can hurt you if you bug an elephant."

Daughter: "What are inside tusks, mommy?"

Me: "It's something called ivory."

Daughter: "What's Ivory?"

Me: "It's a hard sub......"

Husband: "It's soap."

Me: "................"

Daughter: "Soap for a bath?"

Me: "Well....... Jessica Simpson...... I understand you don't eat buffalo wings because you don't eat buffalo.... hahahaha but you really can't think that Ivory Soap comes from elephants."

Daughter: "What do you do with Ivory?"

Me: "It's a hard substance that is used to make things like piano keys, and little knick knacks and stuff."

Disclaimer: To be fair, I was staring at the back of my husbands head, so it was hard to tell if he was joking or not.

Penis

2006-08-13T12:54:00.000-04:00

On a drive home one day:

"My friends name is Aiden"
"I know it is sweety"
"And he's a boy"
"I know he's a boy"
"You know why he's a boy mommy, because he has a penis"
"uh......Is that right...."
"It's called a pee-nis because he pees from it"

"Mommy"
"Yes"
"When daddy got married to you, did his penis turn into a vagina?"

The correct answer is no, but most married male adults would say yes.

T-Shirts

2006-07-14T11:39:00.000-04:00

Feast your eyes upon my works of art!!!
It's time to make your own t-shirts and underwear. You can do it here.

Taking Over The World

2006-07-06T13:35:00.000-04:00

Well, two weeks ago I greeted crotch-dropping number two. My goal for global genetic domination is slowly, but surely coming together.

Picture

2006-06-21T21:43:00.000-04:00

Here is a wonderful picture of our family drawn by my daughter. I am on the left. notice my large pregnant belly and lop-sided mammaries. I am certainly, one good catch. Eat your heart out boys.

Pineapple

2006-06-15T11:25:00.000-04:00

I'm afraid that the America's haven't been informed of a delicious fruit that is available right around this time.

It's called pineapple. It's absolutely wonderful, and I'm not talking about the canned crap you get in the middle isles of the grocery store stuck in a dark corner like a leper.

Pineapple, as with all fruit tastes better FRESH. Granted, pineapple is big, and sharp, and pretty damned scary to look at. Prepping it is also quite daunting, but have no fear, because I am here to teach you the ropes. Well, not me, I'm just gonna be a lazy fucktard and link a bunch of crap.

So first things first, pineapple is delicious, it's not like the name, so have no worries about it tasting like a pine tree. It's sweet, and juicy, and the flavour explodes in your mouth like a horny teenager overdosing on Viagra.

The online encyclopedia known as Wikipedia has informed me that eating pineapple can induce labour. As I assume my readers are smarter than the average bear, I'm gonna say this is utter bologna, as I am indeed living proof. I can confirm however, eating too much will have you baking fresh loaves over the toilet in no time at all.

So if you haven't gone to your local grocer and paid a small man's ransom, go now! Do not delay! Buy a frickken pineapple.

Accounting

2006-06-07T10:39:00.000-04:00

I added the text, because I am shameless. But if your feeling sad, you can check out some pictures to brighten your spirits. Or just spam your friends email with the pictures.

I'm Really Sad

P.S. I'm not actually feeling sad.

Travelmate

2006-06-01T15:26:00.000-04:00

"TravelMate™ non-invasive urinary devices enable females to pee through the fly of their clothes while standing ........ answer the call of nature while seated in a car, boat, or small aircraft. "

This truly is amazing, now I can write my name in the snow.

Linky

Bumper Stickers

2006-04-19T09:40:00.000-04:00

So there's a nifty little site where you can create your own bumper stickers. I spent my 8 hour working shift making these, so yeah, you could say I went a little (actually a lot) over board. For your viewing pleasure (or fapping pleasure) I have included my masterpieces. Please note that these are for hilarity only and as such shouldn't be viewed as my personal opinions or beliefs.
(Remember kids: if you can't read the text click the individual picture for a larger version)

(The spelling error on this is intentional)

Comics

2006-04-13T10:45:00.000-04:00

So I got some comics via email and decided to make my own, or just change em up a bit. Just because I was bored. Either way, hopefully you have twisted sense of humour like me and will enjoy them. Just so I don't get death threats or a lawsuit here's my source
(clicking the individual image will make them larger)

Yellow Pages

2006-04-05T10:52:00.000-04:00

Alright maybe a I am bored.
Maybe this is genuine (everything from the internet is true!!)

The Yellow Pages wants my sex. Or so it seems after they inverted their "walking fingers" logo upside down.

The fingers look a little girly for my liking, but they sure look like they got a trick up that sleeve of theirs. I am expecting the big "shocker" move... you know 2 in the pink, 1 in the stink.

I guess I surf the internet too much.
But if I deserve any hopes and dreams, this will be copied and pasted into more emails and joke websites than
"Pimp My Bride" or "Redneck Wedding" pictures. If you haven't had the opportunity to spy your eyes on those gems, then you really need to get some internet e-friends.

Centipede vs Mouse

2006-03-28T14:30:00.000-05:00

Let's Go To The Fair?

2006-03-16T16:43:00.000-05:00

I took a trip to the "Rogers Centre" and I say that very sarcastically, apparently I'm not up to date with the selling of the SkyDome which happened over a year ago.

They seemed to have raped a decent stadium and plopped a fair in the centre of everything for March Break. So I "stuck it to the man" and got some really cheap tickets via work and went down to China town, I mean fair ground.

Lots of rides, and games. A lack of fair food like fries, fresh cotton candy and doughnuts... but my lard gut doesn't need it... oh sorry, the six month fetus... but that's besides the point.

Since my poor daughter lacks the ability (haha agility) to throw a ball, I played it safe and bet only on "'every game wins".... because hey, it feels good, kinda like that blue ribbon you get as a kid when you come in last at the race but you get a little something for participating, 'thanks for your efforts, your a bit of a tard, but here's a prize so you don't go postal and shoot up the judges' - kind of dealie.
Yup I collected a lot of blue ribbons as a kid, but it wasn't my fault. Honest. My birthday seems to fall into a catagory of where I'm too old (about a month to my guesstimates) to participate with my classmates and as a result got bumped up to the big kids.

Back to the story, I'd like to point out any cliche's that dance in your head like sugar plum fairies about carnies, is completely fucking true. Socially inept, crippled, pedophiles with missing teeth. This of course is not bias to age. They had students who worked there who looked exactly the same.

Toronto also harbours the ugliest highschool guys ever. Quite often I got confused between the students and the carnies. I think if I had these choices back when I was that age, I would be gay today.

I had the carnies woo me with their chants "Hey Ma, come bring your kids over here" no, I kid you not. I guess I was dressed to the equivelent of Wal-mart groupie, food stamp bearing, drunken pregnant ham-beast. "Yes please take my money while you sling insults at me.....while your at it just punch me in the eye, because my trailer trash image isn't nearly complete!!!"

All in all I spent some money, got some blow up dolls for later enjoyment, took some pictures and created a happy childhood for my daughter.

Oh.... and coat check misplaced my jacket.

Hat is Racist

2006-03-09T10:58:00.000-05:00

A couple weeks ago I enjoyed a half day at work, as a result a got to sit down for about 45 minutes to indulge on a show that only stay-at-home mom's normally watch. They share gardening tips, cooking recipe's, decorating strategies, and how to dress like a nazi.

Personally I think it's a tad early for gardening tips, because the ground is still hard here in Toronto, I could wear a nice warm hat but I wouldn't normally be brave enough to wear the Olympics Torino Hat.

So we can keep down any confusion and angry letters..... that would be the black hat labeled TORINO.

I wonder if this proud piece of olympic fashion would be available in white?

Contact Solution

2006-02-27T09:20:00.000-05:00

I love Wal-mart. I am not afraid to admit it. It's my one stop shopping heaven, from ass wipe to car batteries. Everything is cheaper, although you must be prepared to herd your way through slow moving people, smelly people, mentally challenged people, naked people, whatever.

My hairdryer recently bit the dust. So it was time for a new one. Where else would I go other than Wal-mart (no where of course)
So there I am, on Saturday, trudging through the crazy people looking for a new hairdryer, contact lense solution, chocolate to get fat on, and lost 100 dollar bills. Yes, let me repeat that.... I do where contacts - I am blind as a freaking bat.
Ok, ok, you weren't questioning the contact solution, but the 100 dollar bill, fine, whatever.

I'm standing in the aisle, pulled over to the left (because I am considerate like that, and if you don't do this please die you rat bastard) People are entering and exiting the electronics section, and I see someone drop a 100 dollar bill. I swoop over like a vulture and pick it up. I think for a split second if I should return it, or keep it. What's the probability of someone dropping a 100 bones. Pretty frickin' slim, I'll end up on TV and my poor face will be plastered all over the six o'clock news letting the public know that I am a dishonest person, just so some crappy newscastor can get promoted to co-anchor. Fuck that I think, I chase the supposed guy down and ask him if he's lost money.
He insist's he hasn't
I ask if he's completly sure.
He is.
My blood is pumping so fast I could feel my neck swelling and my face growing warm. I peed my pants a bit. Oh GAWD yes..... yes.
The money is neatly folded, the same way I had found it hiding in the death grip of my sweaty palms.
I went back to my parking spot to look for anyone else clawing at the dirty tiled floor looking for their lost baby formula money.
No one was.
This was good.
I retreated to the chocolate Easter isle, where I could get some privacy.
I was going to spend all my money on chocolate. No wait, I was going to buy some clothes, or shoes, or some more contact solution. Forget my bills, because now I am a rich woman and I have found some free money to throw into the wind and spend it on anything and everything that would rot my teeth, hair, my daughters child hood, or give me a yeast infection. I was going to spend it unwisely, just like I was 18 years old again.

My hubby came, I told him the story, and asked if he needed anything because it was my treat. I rubbed that 100 dollar bill like it was going to explode into an orgasm. It was smooth like silk. So smooth and papery, kind of like....... paper.
I looked into the palm of my hand, but I already knew the horrible truth. The ink wasn't perfect, and neither was my eyesight.

All I bought that day at Wal-mart was some contact solution and Easter chocolate, to drown my sorrows in.

Steady Hands??

2006-02-06T16:49:00.000-05:00

If you skipped your cup of java, or lines of coke, your in for a real treat. So do it, play the maze.

Click picture to be connected.

Low Riding

2006-02-02T12:56:00.000-05:00

Let me jump on the low jeans, low riders, lemme see that ass crack kinda low.
My personal preference is the low jeans, because of my boyish figure, high waisted clothes never fit me properly. But where do we draw the line. I guess seeing ass crack is just about the norm now.

Over a weekend sometime ago, I shared dinner with family. Of course jeans were probably the clothing of choice. But what surprised me was my cousin who (is quite religious) wore low rise jeans, where the underwear wasn't low rise. Now it wasn't regualr thong ass shots that I was seeing. It was more on the frontal aspect. Every time she stuck her hands in her pockets we all got a hefty glimpse of her blue granny pants just about right down to the crotch.

With the low rise pants, we now gotta purchase some low rise underwear. And yes, those under garments do indicate low-rise right on the packaging.

Of course there is always the, so-fucking-low-I-can't-wear-underwear. I have also been lucky enough to witness this as well. What's it like you ask? Well if you are daring enough to wear these fuckers, you should shave off all your pubic hair. Because that's what everyone will see. Yes I stared, no I didn't say anything, and no, I didn't take a picture, she was underage anyways.

Hooray for Boobies??

2006-01-27T10:21:00.000-05:00

Hooray indeed.

Click link or picture for movie!!!!

Revolution in Piercings?

2006-01-12T13:55:00.000-05:00

Magnetic piercings or implants seem to have made it's way into the whole "body modification" activity.

Is it new, I don't know, there isn't much documentation on it. However, I seriously doubt you would want this in you while getting an MRI. You can find more information about it here

Titty Hug's For Everyone

2006-01-03T11:46:00.000-05:00

Well finally, Christmas has come and finally left, leaving me in a pool of my own blood, sweat and debt.
I cooked a delicious large meal that had enough saturated fat to take down a herd of elephants. The victims of my meal were my immediate family, and my brothers girlfriend. It was originally intended for the girlfriend not to attend, because my brother and her behave like a celebrity teenage couple that seem to break up over the most miniscule thing.
I finally caved and allowed the girlfriend (who we will call g/f to save my fingers from an early death) to come to the dinner. Why? who cares, we changed the dates, and she bought some rather over-the-top gifts for my daughter. Believe it or not, they actually outshined my damned lollipops and Dora products.

Anyways, enough with the chitter chatter. The g/f is a big topped woman. Actually she has enough boobage to suffocate my 130 pound brother. Which I am sure he wouldn't mind (but that's another blog unto itself) This womans boobs are so big, it probably makes up 1/4 of her weight. They are sooooo big, that when she eats at the table she props those huge fuckers onto the table. (you know, because of back pain)

Moving on now, when dinner was over, and unwrapping the presents (no not her tits) had finally finished, we said our goodbyes. And what happens?! Who decides it to be a great idea to invade my personal space which I have on high security at all times? Before I knew it, I was encapsulated with a squishy, warm, pillowy mass of booby. My little boobs, had sunken into my ribcage and beyond, I now had extra cushion protecting my spine.
The g/f's mammaries seemed to swim it's way across my entire chest, choking out any dinner I had managed to store inside my trachea for later enjoyment. I was taken back about 25 years when my dearest mother was still nursing my frail little body. I zipped back to my current timeline, and got a quick thought about my brother's sex life, oh dear god. The fucking horror.

Thanks to this "innocent" hug, I was transported from feeling inadequate, to sucking on my momma's boobs, to thinking about my brother and lovemaking escapades. I am forever scarred, and my personal space remains in the red zone for any subsequent attacks.

I won't be serving Christmas dinner next year.

Window

2005-12-14T14:00:00.000-05:00

Windows.
They are a pretty great invention.
I bet you take advantage of them all the time.
Imagine a world without windows. Obviously you wouldn't be able to drive a car but you'd never know who or what was knocking on your door on a dark and stormy night. You'd go to bed with no perception of time. You'd be forced to open your door just to know if the sun is shining or if it's raining. Of course there's always t.v. but damn, a 20 minute drive from one side of town to the other can show a differential in weather. So windows are the next best things to get an eyeful of things.
Here at work, in a call centre, I face a nice large white wall. (besides my computer monitor) I rarely get to see the light of day because no one wants to open the blinds because of the reflection it causes to the computer monitors. With winter here I am lucky to see daylight for about 15-20 minutes a day (that would be my drive to work)
Lunch would be my time for sun. I go into the cafeteria, plop my butt next to a window and munch away happily staring at the bright sun burning my cornea's. Our offices are also kept at a low temperature, so I also use this time to warm up my extremities, before they suffer from frost bite and fall off.
This is where my problem starts. Over the course of the past couple of weeks other people also like to enjoy a nice seat next to the window. However for some reason, they suffer a severe allergic reaction from the sun, or some very deep seated fear of the sun, that they close the fucking blinds.

In fear of further perpetuating the rumour that I am a troll bitch sent from hell to make everyone miserable, I allow it to happen. But then there I am, eating my soggy sandwich, drowning in my sorrows within the shadows, cursing everyone and everything.

There is a small pot of gold at the end of my rainbow however, (maybe not gold, but some nice shiny pennies) I have a nice desktop of a picture I took at the lake when the weather was 100 degrees and about 80% humid. Now if I could get heat and cancer rays to eminate from the monitor and give me a glowing tan, then I would be happy as a pig in poop.

Mini Thoughts

2005-11-30T09:29:00.000-05:00

There's a few things that I have learned or have thought about over the last couple of weeks.

A brand new pair of socks will not last longer than one month. I will end up with a large hole in the big toe on the right foot. Now as incredibly insane as this sounds, I will not change the feet. I have a right sock, and a left sock. This method creates a perfect stretch mark in the sock, so it fits me perfectly. I pin my socks together when they are being washed so my socks never break up. It's a beautiful marriage.

A school bus driver who drives recklessly is a fucking sinner and should burn in hell. Especially since I cannot retaliate with a busload of kids inside.

If you run a business, (a motivational life altering/bettering to be more specific.) Don't advertise on the side of your 1992 mini-van beater. It's depressing that I cannot do much better.

Also, an image search on Google for "socks" will turn up this picture

RIP Pete

2005-11-17T14:21:00.000-05:00

Yes I am still alive and kicking. However this poor bastard isn't.

Worst Job Ever

2005-11-11T15:26:00.000-05:00

Worst Job Ever

2005-11-08T12:34:00.000-05:00

In case ya haven't noticed I have been lacking in the quality blog department.
I am out of ideas of what to write about. Normally I try to avoid talking about my personal life because it's pretty gosh darn boring, and describes about half the blogs out there. I don't even have depressing issues to rant about. Which is a great thing I suppose.

I discovered a great site which will probably make you feel a little smaller. It's a great little space diagram that is to scale. Click on the links otherwise you will never find the planets.

Friday Funnies

2005-11-04T10:43:00.000-05:00

A man walks into a bar and asks the bartender for a case of beer, any kind except Schlitz. The bartender says, "What's wrong with Schlitz, don't you like it? The man says, "I hate that shit". Last night I drank a whole case of Schlitz and blew chunks. The bartender says, "You drink a case of any beer you're going to blow chunks". You don't understand said the man, Chunks is my dog.

-------------------------------------

A woman walks into the store and purchases the following: 1 small box of detergent
1 Bar of soap
3 individual servings of yogurt
2 oranges
1 stick of women’s deodorant.
She then goes to the check out line.

Cashier: Oh, you must be single
Woman: You can tell that by what I bought?
Cashier: No, you're fucking ugly!

------------------------------------------------

A husband and wife want to take golf lessons from a pro at a local country club. The man and woman meet the pro and head onto the driving range. The man goes up to hit first. He swings and hits the ball 100 yards. The golf pro says not bad. Golfpro: "Now hold the club as firm as you hold your wife's breasts". The man follows instructions and hits the ball 300 yards. The golf pro says "Excellent!" Now the woman takes her turn. Her ball goes 30 yards. Golfpro: "Not bad, try holding the club like you hold your husbands dick." She swings and the ball goes 10 yards. Golfpro: "Not bad, but now try taking the club out of your mouth and hit the ball."

-----------------------------------------------

A guy is riding the bus when at a stop, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen gets on. The only problem is that she is a nun. He decides to approach her anyway.
"Sister, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and I must have sex with you." he says.
"I'm sorry but I've given my body to God" she replies and then leaves.
Suddenly the bus driver turns around to the guy and says "I know a way you can get her in the sack." The bus driver tells the guy about how the nun goes to confessional everyday at 3 in the afternoon. The bus driver tells the guy his plan and the guy leaves happy knowing he's going to get some.
The next day at 3 the guy is in the booth dressed as a priest. When the nun approaches in the darkness he says "Sister, God has told me I must have sex with you."
She replies "Well if God has said it, we must do it. However because of my strong commitment to God I will only take it up the ass."
The guy figures this isn't a problem and proceeds to have the best sex ever. After it is over he whips off his outfit and says "Surprise I'm the guy on the bus"
With that the nun turns around and says "Surprise I'm the bus driver."

Reminder: Buy Tampons

2005-11-02T09:02:00.000-05:00

I continue to have dreams about hurricanes/tornado's. I am not sure why. I think it's because I listen to the radio while sleeping and I tend to listen and then dream out what the news is covering that day.

Now I know it's highly unlikely that a hurricane would hit Toronto, but low in behold I see myself looking at a big giant tunnel that suddenly forms in front of my eyes. At that point I have about 30 seconds to run home to safety. I run like the dickens and grab some essentials so I can lock myself up into a basement with food, blankets, tampons, and guns (for the zombies).

The funny thing is, I can't find safety. I can't find an elevator or stairs to get to lower ground. So there I am running around a building (my dreams seem to materialize from my home when I was a youngster which was an apartment building) A building that doesn't have a nice little nook for me to hide. A building that is full of windows like a solarium. There is also a bunch of other people running around in large clumps that remind me of herding sheep into a barn.

The hurricane comes. I close my eyes and pray to live, or die-but quickly. Things pass, and I am alive... I get up along with the rest of the sheep and go outside to survey the damage. Once outside we discover we are in the eye of the storm and things aren't over. Then I wake up.

I could probably end these dreams by just turning off the radio, but believe it or not, my dreams are worse without the radio to keep my brain occupied. Dreams that are probably comparable to the writing of Stephen King, and I am the star.

I could probably attempt to interpret these dreams, but it's probably something about facing a fear or a big giant problem that won't go away, or maybe it's a reminder to stock up on tampons.

Vocabulary

2005-10-28T14:26:00.000-04:00

There has been this word, quite new sounding (to me) but seems to have been around for quite some time. For about the past month or so I hear the word about once a day. I have been to fucking lazy to look it up. Actually lazy isn't the best description, more like forgetful. Anyways, it's been following me around for quite some time. Taunting me to look up the definition, once I do, the little bastard will back off. Since I assume that people have the same kind of experience with word stalking, here is the new word I learned:

Main Entry: fod·der
Pronunciation: 'fä-d&r
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English fOdor; akin to Old High German fuotar food
1 : something fed to domestic animals; especially : coarse food for cattle, horses, or sheep
2 : inferior or readily available material used to supply a heavy demand

Now I hope I experience some sort of closure, or and end to the stalking escapades, and I pray that I can turn on my t.v. and internet without hearing this damned word.

Damn you fodder, your so delicious, and make us regular. And damn blogger, it won't let me post pictures.

Leprechaun

2005-10-27T09:05:00.000-04:00

There was this big football player in the bathroom taking a piss, when in walks this little short guy who stands beside him to piss.
The big guy couldn't help but notice the enormous size of the little guy's penis. He said to the little guy "I'm not gay or anything but how how in the hell can a guy so little have a dick so big?"
The little guy replied "Well I'm going to let you in on a little secret, I am a leprechaun. I can grant you any wish you want, but there is a catch, you have to let me stick this up your ass."
The big guy thought to himself "Well I have played football and got knocked on my ass, surely I can take the pain of a dick up my ass." He said "OK, my wish is for a million dollars."
The leprechaun said "bend over." and proceeded to have his way with the football player.
When it was over, the big guy exclaimed "I can't believe you got all that up in me."
The little guy said "I can't believe you thought I was a leprechaun!"

Category "C"

2005-10-25T10:34:00.000-04:00

Over the weekend I went to the theatre and watched Doom. I don't really want to comment on the actual movie, but more on the target audience.

Personally I have never played Doom. But when I saw the crowd that trickled in, I couldn't help but laugh because the stereotype that surrounds video game geeks is just about true. There were guys that didn't have girlfriends and went with a group of buddies. It was a strange sort of cult like those that belong to LOTR fans, or Star Wars fans. I felt somewhat unclean. I also spied on a number of couples that the guys could only get their girlfriends to attend because The Rock was in it.

Since I went with my husband I probably appear to fit into the second catagory. But to be honest, The Rock always resembled Rob Schneider. His receding hairline also seems to be receding strangely. Not only is it creeping backwards in the front, but the back of his head seems to be climbling upwards. His head is like that of a cone. The hairline accentuates this "cone-ing" look. Now it could either be just his hair, or he was a big baby, and his mother was a real trooper in squeezing out this massive watermelon.

Since I claim I don't belong to category A or B, I will create category "C" This category actually likes action movies. Also gore. Zombies are fantastic. Some science talk is fun. Boobs are also fun. If you are a male falling into category "C" you probably scream whenever you see two men kiss. But category "C" women like it and laugh insanely at the men's disgust.

Dear Internet.....

2005-10-20T09:48:00.000-04:00

Last night I found myself surfing the internet. I didn't surf any evil websites like that of pornography, where I would end up gracefully touching myself in a sinful manner. I didn't watch any video's showing violent car crashes or people getting run over by cars. I didn't play any games, or read email.
What happened last night was something different. I was pushing the button to which was similar to the lottery. I was pushing a sensitive button, it wasn't on me, but on the computer..... That's right. It's known as "Next Blog" To my surprise, I was only getting a bunch of advertising websites. Some for shampoo, some for delicious Spam (how ironic) and some for vaginas. Now don't get me wrong, shampoo is the greatest thing to hit the human race since the wheel and sliced bread. But I felt a little concerned because it was difficult to find a live persons blog. I became even more concerned when I realized that it was probably just as hard for people to find my blog. No one would be graced with my quality (ha) writing.

After being plagued with pop-ups, blogs that were covered in squares, and nascar advertisings, I decided to get some revenge. I started clicking the "other" button. I pushed it about 50 times until my index finger was sore, throbbing, and just about bleeding. I am not sure what I was trying to accomplish, maybe erradicate blogger of spammers one flag at a time.

I now think I have "Flagger's Remorse" I thought about small businesses trying to run a company with the little amount of money they had. I thought about their 4 kids who all needed to be clothed in Dolce & Gabanna, and needed to attend private schools. I thought about the gas guzzling cars such as SUV's and Ferrari's that these poor business owners needed to drive. I thought about the wives that needed another botox injection or perhaps a boob lift.... heck maybe even both. I thought about their massive mortgage, and how are they ever going to pay the pool boy for cleaning the pool and wife's plumbing.

Internet, let me get to my point, I don't think I can go on with my day until I know that what I did, wasn't an evil thing. I can't go back and undo what's been done, because I never wrote down any of these blogs. Oh Internet, please advise........

Camping

2005-10-19T19:55:00.000-04:00

A guy was sitting in a bar when a stranger walked up to him and asked, "If you woke up in the woods and scratched your butt and felt vasoline, would you tell anyone?"
"Hell no!" the guy said.
The stranger then asked, "If you felt further into your crack and pulled out a used condom, would you tell anyone?"
The man said, "Of course not."
"Wanna go camping?"

The Bunny and His Bodyguards.

2005-10-17T08:58:00.000-04:00

The bunny has returned.... or it never left. But I did see him again. And I wasn't alone. I had my daughter and husband in the car with me.

It was a brisk sunday afternoon (also known as yesterday) and we were heading out to do some errands. Upon exiting our neighbourhood, the husband (also known as a ball and chain) spotted an animal. Not a run-of-the-mill cat, dog, or the infamous bunny, but a chicken. He slammed on the brakes.
"Did you see that?"
"What?"
"A hen"
"What?"
"I saw a hen, did you see that?"
"No.... back up lemme see."

Low in behold, there he was. A huge chicken. Not a fluffy white, egg laying chicken. But a big, black, red capped, scary chicken.

"Look at that, there's more under the bush"
"Oh my god," I said "There's like 5 of em'"

We sat in silence, while my daughter screamed on about zombies coming to the car...

"Oh my god.... there's that rabbit I almost ran over."
"Where?"
"Right there, next to the big chicken... I almost hit it like 2 weeks ago."
"It's a hen."
"What?"
"It's not a chicken, GravityDrop, it's a hen"
"It's the same thing..."
"A hen is a girl."
"So are chickens, roosters are males."

And so went the argument for the next 10 minutes.

But yes, I saw the rabbit, with it's evil eyes, dirty paws, and hired bodyguards. All five hired body guards that would either pluck out my eyes, navy seal style. Or possibly just give me that chicken flu everyone is talking about. I was afraid. Even in my car with the windows rolled up. I promised everyone a blood bath, and I chickened out (no pun intended) I am hoping that soon, he will succumb to the cold outside.

After researching the internet dictionary... I think we were both wrong, or right...
chick·en
n.

1- The common domestic fowl (Gallus domesticus) or its young.
2- Any of various similar or related birds.
3- The flesh of the common domestic fowl.

hen
n.

1- A female bird, especially the adult female of the domestic fowl.
2- The female of certain aquatic animals, such as an octopus or lobster.
3- Slang. A woman, especially a fussy or nosy old woman.

roost·er
n.

An adult male chicken.
An adult male of other birds.
A person regarded as cocky or pugnacious.

The Spam Exam

2005-10-13T10:25:00.000-04:00

I decided to bait out spammers.
Here is what I posted this morning for 5 minutes.

Test fucking test.........

testy test tester
blah blah blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
penis blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
blah blah blah
shit test testy

I got 7 hits and low in behold I got a comment!!!

Anonymous said...
Fantastic blog you got here, I fully anticipate stopping back for some great updates. I have a nascar site. It covers everything about nascar and the 2005 Nascar schedule, how to get tickets to all racing events, info on all your favorite drivers, and race track info. Stop by and check it out when you can.
Rod

Besides it being ironic that he posted as anonymous and left his name at the end of the comments isn't important. My test was to make these little ding-dongs public.

So I would like to thank Sitemeter for the pictures that will follow.

The first one shows my 7 hits from spammers..... in the matter of 2 minutes.

Here is some detailed information about some of these spammers:

This one of course is not work safe, as you can tell by my warning. As revenge I flagged his blog, however I doubt it will help.

As a novelty I will keep "Rods" comment posted (in the comments link) so you all can be graced with it's un-intelligent decision to post on my Spam Exam article.

Let's Carve Pumpkins

2005-10-12T08:57:00.000-04:00

It's that time of year again. It's time to get creative and make the coolest pumpkin ever.
Forget the basic foofoo triangle eyes and sinister grin from yesteryear. You need to buy some tools to help with your ability to break yourself out of the 8 year-old downs-syndrome-weed-smoked- induced jack-o-lanterns.

Ok, what you need is a knife.... actually many knives, it won't be for decoration, but you will be using them on the pumpkin. Please also refrain from drinking or eating mushrooms as this amount of ammo will deem dangerous in the midst of an angry loved one.

The main knife is for carving, it looks like a really thin saw made for a jigsaw or bandsaw.

The other knife is widely known as an exacto knife. Craft knives are better but I couldn't find a picture.

Now you need to find a design. You can draw anything. This year I will be drawing a skull so I can satisfy my bloodlust for evil things. And also a Dora one to satisfy the little kiddies.

First thing to do is empty the internal organs of the pumpkin. This will include seeds and slimy entrails. I recommend you cut a hole in the bottom so its more visually satisfying and easy to insert a candle, through his newly cut anus.

Once you have murdered your pumpkin and safely discarded the entrails in a biohazard bin we can start scraping the walls in the inside. This is done by scraping the inside of the pumpkin (who knew!!) with a spoon. This will thin the inner flesh making it easier to carve the pumpkin; it also allow the light to shine through better.

Another way to create dimension to your work is to include some completly carved areas and other areas that just have the outer skin removed. When you just remove the outer layer of the skin, this is where most of the "scraping" is benefitted (as described above.)

When you decide to just remove the out layer of the skin, this is where you will use the exacto knife. Make sure blades are sharp, and try and refrain from shaving your face or girlfriends pubic region.

Now you may say, "Gravitydrop, I don't have any artist that lies inside me, or even beside me. Whatever shall I do?"
I will just smile and say, "Raid your printer at work and print out some pictures. At which point you will take this printed item and tape it to your pumpkin. Get a sewing needle and very carefully trace your drawing, (in a stabbing motion) piercing the skin of your pumpkin."
Please note you should keep the sewing needle away from your eyes, and genitals.
Once this (timely and annoying) task is done, you can then start carving, cutting, gouging,stabbing, whatever you need to do to get the job done.
Most of this should be done about 1-2 days in advance (no longer or it gets moldy) and you can keep it fresh by rubbing some lemon on the cut areas. The ascorbic acid will keep it from going moldy and turning brown.

Now all you have to do is sit back and enjoy the praise. Albeit from 3 and 4 year olds, but hey I will accept any love that I can get.

Backup

2005-10-07T09:46:00.000-04:00

Well, it seems my entire blog got magically deleted. Not sure how or why, but had I not had a backup of my blog on my computer I would have been royally screwed.
So here's my lesson for the day folks. Save a backup of your blog on your computer.
The best way is to copy and paste your entire template onto notepad. Notepad is located under the startup menu>programs>accessories>notepad.
This tip is also useful for when your doing any drastic renovations to your template.

I have re-created most of the (art)work that was lost, but I have a couple of other things to fix. Hopefully I will be done by the end of today.

Anywhooooo, enjoy my gif for boobies, located below. Actually it was posted yesterday, but no one had access because of my "magically" deleted blog.

Hooray For Boobies

2005-10-06T11:21:00.000-04:00

I See Dead Bunnies

2005-10-04T08:30:00.000-04:00

My drives home from the gym, are proving to be quite the nightmare.
With winter just around the corner the evenings are getting darker earlier. I have lost my balance with telling time via sunlight, so all I can say is, it was dark when I was driving home. Patches of fog were seen rolling along the valleys of grass along the road. The roads were quiet, and empty. The skies were clear, and I could see the stars shining like little metallic daggers in the sky. They were wavering at me. Taunting me. Trying to stab me. I am afraid of the sky, and I wish for rainy days.

Anyways, I was driving home, enjoying my music and I turned on to my road, when out of nowhere I see a little white bunny that darts out in front of me. Not just any bunny, it was a magic bunny that was buried in The Pet Cemetary. Not just "a" pet cemetary, but "The" Pet Cemetary, the one's where the little animals come back, and stay your friend forever. This magic bunny was my bunny. I recognized the little white tail, and blue eye. To be honest I don't even think I buried him in The Pet Cemetary, but in my backyard. My backyard is the porthole to hell, or reincarnation, or resusitation, or some creepy shit. But the point is here I saw my bunny, and he followed me to my new home.

His fluffy white fur was glowing, and he was zig-zagging in front of me. It was very cosmic, and I got a buzzing feeling in my head....I tried to remain calm and think if I drank anything from strangers who might have spiked my drink with delicious acid. This is the same bunny that died last Easter weekend (of all days) My bunny (also known as Saucer) was running along the street, beckoning me to kill him (again)
I slammed on my brakes, and Saucer stopped. And then hippity hopped. Then ran, I kept driving, hoping the little bunny knew how to run across the street and not in front of my car.

Finally the ghost bunny found his way across the street and stopped. I drove by, afraid to stop, or rescue him. Ghost bunnies are dangerous because they will steal your soul, or first born child. Since I only have one child, I figured it best to keep the little hellraiser bunny right where he was. Maybe I should go back and kill him twice, just to be safe. I mean the little devil bunny found the energy to rise from the dead, maybe he wants to take me to hell with him? Dear god I hope the little bastard didn't follow me home.

I can picture the devil bunny following me home, and torturing me. The little whore bunny would shack up with a hot young bunny slut and have litters of bouncing baby bunnykins. They will eat my grass and say "Gravity Drop your sod is sweet, young, and tender. We are going to eat all of your 99% weed free sod........" and then they chuckle with the bunny chuckle that causes your ear drums to burst. (Bunny chuckles sound like little babies being stabbed)....... At this point I will fall to my knees and pound my fists on the up-rooted sod and soil and cry. When I regain conciousness I will discover that my child is missing just like the grass. I cannot imagine, what will happen to my baby, but I think she will face the same demise as my sweet young sod. I will scream and blackout a second time, hoping that this time I will never awake again.

I checked my rearview mirror. I saw no evidence of fuzzy blurs passing my vision. I breathed a sigh of relief. Tomorrow I will return, and re-kill my bunny. This must be done for my sanity and my sweet tender grass. I must plan wisely, because this will be a blood bath. Yes it will.

I Made Animation !!!

2005-09-30T16:27:00.000-04:00

I made this, I am quite proud. It's perverse, and satisfies any urges that result from my perversities. At this point in time anyways.

Also this one, not as exciting, but good for any virgin eyes out there.

Guess Who

2005-09-29T09:10:00.000-04:00

Guess who......(He's a comedian if that helps)

Well how does one person get this big, a person who used to be 120 pounds soaking wet. Giving this guy the benefit of the doubt and he isn't on juice.... let's provide some nutrition tips.

Protein.... lot's of clean protein. (1 - 1.5 grams per pound of lean body mass.)
Chicken Breast
Beef - such as top round
Eggs whites
cottage cheese
fish - a main staple would be tuna
Whey - easy, quick, perfect post workout for rapid absorbtion

Carbies (amount depends on goals... for weight gain you would increase carbs, and to lose weight you would decrease the carbs)
brown rice
sweet potato
oatmeal - not instant you lazy mofo
whole wheat pasta
Beans

Fats (amount depends on goals but can range from .25 - .40 grams per pound of weight)
fish oil (be sure not to get the one with extra vitamin A and such goodies.)
flax oil (cold pressed and organic, never cook with this oil.)
Natural Peanut Butter (not kraft or jiffy it's full of hydrogenated oils and sugar)
Walnuts
Almonds
Olive Oil

Veggies and Fruit
Can't normally go wrong with much but:
peas and corn are high in carbies, and thus should be considered as a carb source.
The best choices for fruit are the ones that are low glycemic such as berries.

Water - and a shit load of it. Your pee should be clear. If it's yellow your dehydrated, regardless if your thirsty or not. A good goal for women would be 3 litres; for guys 3-5 litres. So drink up.

Why did I just offer nutrition tips for a picture of muscles. Because most people think that working out will get you fit. It does, but your success is 80%-85% nutrition, the remainder would be a mix of weight bearing excercises and genetics.

Oh, and to find out who this guy is, just click on the picture.

Only the Good News Please

2005-09-28T10:17:00.000-04:00

Poor China
They will never read my entertaining news-worthy blog
nor will they ever view this. (NWS)
But still I think those videos originate from them. So it's all good.

Spot the Difference

2005-09-27T09:08:00.000-04:00

Just like the title says.........spot the difference

This New House

2005-09-26T10:38:00.000-04:00

We got our sod laid last Thursday. Now when you get sod laid, you must water as soon a bloody possible, or it will die. Permanently. Not the kind of hibernation death and resurrect once spring arises. But it dies forever. It rained on Thursday night, so we considered ourselves safe to hold off on buying a hose and sprinkler.
Long story short, we got an old hose and sprinkler from my father. So we saved some much needed cash. Saturday night we watered the lawn with the neighbors. I am a non-talker so my husband did most (actually all) of the socializing. Here is an excerpt in his words:

"So our neighbours come up to me and say, 'can I ask you a question?'..."
"Which neighbours the one's connected to us or the other ones" (FYI we live in a semi-detached home.)
"The other ones...." The hubby continues, "the neighbour asked me how long he should water the lawn for."
"Okay...." Just so you know newbie home owners are funny as hell, so I had a feeling this was going to be gold.
"I told him about an hour or two.."
"Okay..."
"And the guy acted surprised... I asked him how long have you been watering for...He said 10 minutes with a hand held hose."
"Uh-huh......" I said
"I told him it wasn't long enough, he responded with, well it rained a couple days ago."
"How many shades of brown does it take for someone to realize he has to water the grass?"
"And then..... The best part..... He asked me if he should LIFT THE SOD and water UNDERNEATH"
"Get the fuck out of here!!!!!!!!"
"And I was like..... No man, don't do that."
"Hahahaha what a moron"

Besides the fact that this was probably the highlight of my weekend, (it very well could have been the ruckus at the furniture store where some psychotic woman was cursing many four letter words at the other side, but we ended up being bombarded by a sales woman, so I missed the whole thing.) I think it would be great to talk grass. I also saw "This Old House" which was convenient at airing some stuff on caring for your lawn. (gooooo Bob Vila)

So lets talk grass.
-water the lawn 1-2 inches per week. Separating the amount into 2-3 sessions.
-water in the early morning. Afternoon is a waste of water, and evening will cause disease.

-when cutting grass only cut 1/3 at a time if you cut to much it will burn your grass and stunt the growth.

-if you don't want to rake after words use a mulching blade.

-keep mower blades sharp, dull blades break the grass leaving it open for infection.

-Sheep shit is great and doesn't smell (bad)

-Fertilize depending on your grass type (ie: cool season and warm season lawns)
Cool season lawns-most fertilizer is put on in fall
Warm season lawns-early spring to late summer.

And remember you are judged not by the friends you keep but by the lawn you reep.
That's my saying, and you can use it.
And if you refuse to care for your lawn for goodness sake just pave over it. No one wants to see a brown patch of wheat in August.

Friday

2005-09-23T10:52:00.000-04:00

Dont' you wish you could do this?

I'd post a picture except something is wrong with my (or the ) blogger. So any ways, here is a joke for your reading pleasure:

A Mafia Godfather finds out that his bookkeeper has screwed him for ten million bucks. The bookkeeper is deaf. It was considered an occupational benefit, and why he got the job in the first place, since it was assumed that a deaf bookkeeper would not be able to hear anything he'd ever have to testify about in court. When the Godfather goes to shakedown the bookkeeper about his missing 10 million bucks, he brings along his attorney, who knows sign language.

The Godfather asks the bookkeeper "Where is the 10 million bucks you embezzled from me?" The attorney, using sign language, asks the bookkeeper where the 10 million dollars is hidden. The bookkeeper signs back "I don't know what you are talking about."

The attorney tells the Godfather "He says he doesn't know what you're talking about."

That's when the Godfather pulls out a 9mm pistol, puts it to the bookkeeper's temple, coccks it, and says "Ask him again!" The attorney signs to the underling "He'll kill you for sure if you don't tell him!"

The bookkeeper signs back "OK! You win! The money is in a brown briefcase, buried behind the shed in my cousin Enzo's backyard in Queens!"

The Godfather asks the attorney "Well, what'd he say?"

The attorney replies "He says you don't have the balls to pull the trigger."

Black Widow Drugs

2005-09-19T11:12:00.000-04:00

Quite often after my jaunt to the gym, I find myself driving home alone. This drive is long (my standards of long) about a good 20 minutes. Now that it's dark when I drive home it's kind of strange. What's even stranger is when a main artery such as this road is deserted, it's almost creepy. Enter stage right, Gravitydrops imagination.

As a child, about 12 or so, Me, my brother, and father would rent great cult classic zombie movies. Good times, with lot's of popcorn. One movie that would stick with me would be Dawn of the Dead. It would be great fantisizing material. I would own an entire shopping mall. I would spend my days eating candy, trying on clothes, and shooting zombies from my rooftop. This pattern of thought hasn't changed much in the past 13 years.

Now there I am, about 9 pm, driving down this major artery with no other cars. I turn up the radio loud enough for vibrations to be registered a mild 3 on the richter scale. I had it turned up loud enough for the vibrations to kick start a stopped heart. Maybe even a zombie heart.

It's great, listening to Friday night music, no traffic, drunks walking in the middle of the road, not a worry in the world. Wait, reverse train of thought, oh there is a person in the middle of the road, maybe I should swerve around him...... ok. I look in my rearview, he's still standing, so I didn't hit him. I have to pay attention and stop singing/screaming at the radio. I turn the music down a notch. I keep driving, as per usual. Buildings pass by as a blur, traffic lights are green down my alley. This is fan-fucking-tastic. No hiccups in sight.... I see a movement in the middle of the road, again. Two movements, A club must have opened up or something, because there's more people walking in the middle of the road. I slow down, and give them the evil eyes. I pout my mouth into tantrum mode. These morons are totally unresponsive. Maybe it's not drunks, maybe it's not a new club. It's a new drug.
As I am about to speed off away from these dingbats one of them grabs my car handle and the door pops open. What the fuck......................... I push on the gas. My Honda climbs from 2 miles an hour to 5. Fucking Hondas. One of the druggies fingers hooks inside my mouth, ewwwww. Dirty crusty stoner fingers. The taste was something like metal and gritty dirt. My car finally starts speeding up to a slow jog, and the druggies lose grip of my car and mouth. Let those wierdo's eat my dust, well not dust but at least let them stare at my car treads in the ground.

Now this was probably the strangest day of my last two years. Two years ago I had an altercation with a stoner at 3 pm on a subway, also strange. Actually it was more disturbing than strange, but forget that, this is now. And I almost got hijacked or raped or injected with a massive amount of liquid stoner drug, who the fuck knows. It was wierd shit.

I try and slow my racing heart. I still taste stoner fingers in my mouth. I was worried I contracted some crazy disease. He probably had his fingers poked in every crevice known and unknown to mankind. I lock my car door....... and keep driving, checking my rearview mirror. I could go to the police but the guy was either a bum, and had a long list of violations, or he would never get caught, and I would be stuck looking at stacks and stacks of pictures for weeks to come.

I will go straight home and wash my mouth in a combination of rubbing alcohol and bleach, I will also remember to floss, because we all know how much those germs will hide within your gum lines causing the dangerous gum disease known as gingivitis. I also heard that neglecting your teeth can cause heart disease, what kind of messed up crap research concluded this mess. I would like to know who funded this research because....... is that man eating a dead carcass on the side of the road????????

I stop. What in Lucifer is going on? I back the car up a bit. I would like to say for the record I am not blond, so I knew I could not die.

There squatted a man, noshing down on a carcass. His face was all bloody and his fingers were whittled down to the bone from such enthusiastic munching. I gawked at him, in disbelief and horror. My window was rolled down ever so slightly so I could hear his hands digging inside the contents of this dead body's stomach, squishing, oozing, and that suction sound when you grasp more than your hands will hold. He took the handful and brought it to his lips. I gagged a little. I leaned on the horn, I couldn't bare to watch anymore. He looked up, and gazed at me.... "oh holy shite........" I rolled up my window. He stood up and stumbled over to my car. Yeah I could drive away, but this was just too wierd to stop staring. Plus it would give me something to write about in my blog. He touched my window, the stoner got blood all over my window. It wasn't until then that I noticed he wasn't enjoying his midnight snack alone (or 9 pm snack) Someone else was clawing at the back of my car, I looked, it wasn't one person, it was 4 people investigating my car. I throw my car in drive and gun it out of there. One of the stoners held on. I swerved around like a drunken lunatic, I could see his body swaying left to right like a rag doll. It was almost comical looking depsite the nightmare of the scene I just witnessed. Finally he let my car go, and I sped off. He was probably too stoned to get my lisence plate number, so I think I will be ok. At this point I should call the cops when I get home. It wasn't until now that I decided owning a cell phone was probably a good idea.

I continue my drive home, it won't be long now. I will go home, call the cops and have some tea and brush my teeth...... I turn on to my road, and into my driveway.,..I get out and grab my purse and bags. I hear a scuffling noise. I stop moving. I hear the noise again. I look up and see another fucking stoner....... "enough of this shit" I pop my trunk and I walk around the car to grab a bat from the back.
"Fuck off" I say.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" says the stoner.
At this point I didn't know if I should hit him, and face murder charges, or just run into my house and call the cops.
The stoner got closer.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" he said again.
He sounded more like a horny stoner than a murderous stoner. But I remembered what happened at the drive down and determined, first he would rape me, and then eat me. He was taking some sort of bizarre black widow drugs..... and I wasn't going to be eaten.
No more warnings I thought. I swung my bat, and hit him on the arm. He kept coming foward. I swung again only this time at his head, knowing full well that this blow would probably crush his head and kill him.
I stepped back. He was still standing. Awake and unfazed.
I swung again, and again, and again. This time he fell over. I stopped hitting him and waited for him to leave me alone. But he didn't, he grabbed my ankle. I kicked him away, and swung my bat at his head some more. I kept hitting him. I could hear bone cracking. I kept hitting his head until I heard the equivelent of a bat hitting a large wet sponge. There was nothing left to the stoner's head but a wet sunken leathery bag.
"EAT SHIT!!!!!!!............." I yelled. My heart was racing and my lungs were about to explode. I caught my breath and tossed the bat in my trunk, and closed it.
I grabbed the rest of my belongings in my car and went inside my house.
I decided that tomorrow, I would take the day off from the gym.

How to Waste Your Lonely Friday Nights.........

2005-09-16T10:09:00.000-04:00

Sunburned Eyes

2005-09-15T10:04:00.000-04:00

I have tried to get more adventurous and colourful and just down right fruity. I want to change my background of my blog. (Also known as a blogskin) Well make some sort of change. So I made an entirely new blog and I have been playing with the HTML codes like a maniac. About 5 hours yesterday. My eyes are red from being scorched from the computer screen. I never thought it would be possible to get sun burn from the screen of a computer, but hey, whatever I could use some colour. I mean the colour of over baked (and half-baked) is in vogue.

As you can tell thus far, not a bloody change in THIS blog has been done. So my luck has been down right bad. Well maybe not luck, but definatley some sort of education is required on this whole situation. I have torn apart my comments section and found some colour codes for HTML. I have also learned that you can play around with the cursor (arrow from your mouse) you can also change your scroll bar colour AND design.

But so far no luck on how to change that freaking background, or even my header. Well, thats a lie, I did get it changed but it looked like crappola. A big giant piece of tiled garbage. And here I am at square one, wasting more time trying to be creative and colourful. Here are some links that I found for any of you who are interested in playing with the innards of your blog. Good luck young one. May the Matrix be on your side.

Blogskins

Colours in HTML

HTML Basics

You can also do a search for "HTML Basics"

I Call The Big One Bitey.

2005-09-14T08:28:00.000-04:00

Bootleg Giraffe Snacks

2005-09-13T10:23:00.000-04:00

I would like the ability to create a cool pet.
I think the neatest pet (other than a pet duck which is far from extraordinary) would be a miniature elephant. There was such a thing as a dwarf elephant wayyyyyy back in the day. It stood about a metre high. But when I say a mini elephant. I mean something that stands about a foot tall. I would train my elephant to do tricks. But not crappy tricks like roll over and sit. I would teach my elephant to go pooh in the toilet. And I would teach him to pick up the garbage and take it out to the garage.
I currently have an iguana, but I can't train her to do any tricks, and I know I have promised to post pictures, but I have been quite the lazy sloth lately.

Another neat pet would be a mini lion. Yeah let's follow the trend of "mini" only because items that are normally giants would be cuter and easier to handle in a mini format. Why a lion and not another large cat species. Well because of the mane of course! I could comb that mane and just put it in braids and stuff. It would be jolly good fun. On friday nights we could colour each others hair. Well, maybe thats a little over the top, I just think a lion who was smaller would be really neat-o. It would be a great pet to have in bed with you on a cold winter's night. It would also be great with kids. I can picture it now, a lion kicking around a ball of yarn and pooping in the litter box.
I am not sure why but any thought that I write about I seems to always end up talking about poop. Nothing is more satisfying than taking a large poop. Well maybe chocolate, but chocolate wont make you lose that heavy chunk in your tummy.

Also a mini giraffe. That would be real keen. But I think his hoofs would scratch my floors. We would have to get some booties. I can't knit, so I would have to hire a bunch of people in a sweat shop to make these mini booties for the mini giraffes. Since I am the only one who makes mini booties I will make millions, maybe billions. The popularity of mini giraffes would explode. Every house in America and Canada will own one. Maybe two. I will create schools for vets who have to take special courses to care for the giraffes when sick. Further growing my billion dollar empire. My monopoly of giraffe mini booties, and schools will create an underground black market. I will hunt down those savages and kill them with my mighty sword. No one will stop me because everyone wants a mini giraffe for Christmas.

I will be the only producer of giraffe food. If they eat anything else their stomachs will explode the contents of any bootleg giraffe snacks onto the owners and little children. The guts will stain every nook and cranny of their house, causing them to sell the house or live with the stains. A terrible reminder that you must never feed your mini giraffe bootleg giraffe snacks.

My plan will work. Yes it will.

The Grocery Shopping Occurance.

2005-09-12T12:34:00.000-04:00

Grocery shopping has turned in to a (mis)adventure.
Here is my Sunday morning.
"Ok I am going grocery shopping"
at which point my daughter hear's this and insists that she must come for the better of mankind,
"Mother, I must join you at the stellar jaunt to the grocery store, so I can remind you to purchase candy, chips, juice, more candy, chocolate, candy coated crackhead cereal, and an uber amount of ass wipe"
"If I take you, you have to sit in the cart and be good....you cannot come out of the cart, because you will get lost with all the swarming people. And they will run you over with their souped up carts, covered in stickers from their sponsers and juiced up with high octane gas."
"Mother, I can promise this to you now, but I must insist, it is an empty promise because as soon as I get in the store, your defences will bow down to my earsplitting conniption fit."

Upon arrival to the store, I rememeber that I have forgotten a quarter to which I must despence into the cart in order to go grocery shopping. I now note that I have no change other than that of 4 pennies sitting on the car floor. After I string out a number of four letter words..... I spot an abondoned cart on the other side of the parking lot. I rip my daughter out of the car........ we run through the parking lot, pushing old women over, and drop kicking children. Success! I have gotten my free cart.

Into the store, it is a massive traffic jam full of carts. I move through the isles as fast as I can. Packing in broccoli, red pepper, the bananas are on sale....... nothing is left. Fuck those monkeys and their monkey loving banana molesting abilities...... damn them all.

I am also convinced that as soon as I walk into the store everyone's psychic ability kick's in to piss me off, as these people feel the need to leave their carts in the middle of the isle, to which no one can pass. I stand there looking, turning my head like I am possessed by the devil. Who keeps doing this?! I move the cart, a women comes up to me giving me squinty eyes like I am trying to steal her child.
"Whatever," I think to myself...... no wait.... I punched her in the nose and left her to whither in the ground in a pool of blood..... stop leaving your cart in the middle of the isle!!!!!!!!

"Mother, might I call attention to the fact that you need to pick up some tampons because you are bleeding....I imagine that you don't want to make a monstrosity of the bed again......... or the unholy mess on the bathroom floor for that matter."
"Ok, Ok thank you, here have some candy coated crackhead cereal..........." How the hell does this three year old kid remember so much is beyond me.

We line up after circling the store 4 times to locate the items in the labyrinth of a store. We package our items to which my daughter perists she must help me bag the food stuffs.
"Mother, I am going to push this red button which moves the belt with our food allowance, I will push it with the upmost glee and exuberance that everyone will think I am an angel... but it is my prescribed duty to squish all the food once it hits the wall."
"Sweetheart don't push that button"
"I will not! And I might remind you that if you yell or hit me someone will communicate concern to child services."
"Ok, your going back into the cart........."
"Damn you, damn you mother.... I assisted you with this blood-bath of a shopping spree and you abondon me in this fashion..... this is unacceptable.... you are going to pay dearly when we get home, just you wait!!!"

I pay for the groceries only to discover that I have insufficient funds. I brought no extra credit cards, no cash, nothing. I bite my nails. Ummmmm. Okay.
"Let's try again....." I say.
I experiment with my account and try withdrawing from my savings account. I wait for it to clear. I wait some more.
"Mother! Mother what is the hold up over there, let's go!!"
"please clear, please clear, please clear......."
The funds go through. Nothing happens. No cheering, no applause, nothing. It was very anti-climatic.

The ride home was uneventful. Thank Goodness.

Upon investigation of my account when I get home I realize that I transferred all my money to the wrong account.

I have also learned that Asian people don't drink milk. I have come to this conclusion because our store location charges 6 dollars for 3 litres of milk. I don't know where they are getting their dietary needs for calcium.... but it's a disgusting price for milk.

Dutch Oven.........

2005-09-09T14:50:00.000-04:00

Those Spoons Are Trouble.....

2005-09-09T14:40:00.000-04:00

Weiner

2005-09-09T14:28:00.000-04:00

Zombie Garbage

2005-09-08T09:52:00.000-04:00

Last night I decided to re-watch Shaun of the Dead. Good movie, good laughs, good gore. My husband has trouble understanding the bristish accent, and I love to see him squint just trying his damndest to see the accent better. Right after the movie ended I went straight to bed, knowing full well my mind would remain wrapped around the premise of the movie. I ended up dreaming about zombies. The funny thing was it was a combination of the zombie and hurricane issue(s)
My dream had me locked in a school, with some frat type guys who ordered lots and lots of pizza. Extra large pizza. Now who in the sam hell delivers pizza when there are zombies walking the earth and houses are flooded from the hurricane? And worst of all the garbage was 5 boxes high, and wasn't thrown away.

This whole thing got me thinking harder about garbage. Our garbage must be separated from food, to recycling, to actual "garbage" I have about 4 cans of garbage sitting in my house all serving a purpose.

Gray box-Newspapers and paper items
Blue Box-all other recyclables (soap bottles, plastic containers, pop cans.....)
Food Box- all stinky food items go in here
Garbage box- all the left overs from recycling.

I need a whole new house just to store this shit because garbage collection is once every two weeks. Recycling is once a week, but my main concern is the GARBAGE. That's what smells. I've seen myself hold on to recycling materials for over a month and be fine and dandy like ribbon candy. But the garbage starts to liquify, and breed monster horse flies. These flies are like the size of a small bee. I can here them buzzing around downstairs and upstairs. And then a loud TICK TICK TICK, smashing themselves into the damn windows. It's like someone's taking little pebbles and throwing them at the windows, beckoning them to come outside, and rehearse Romeo and Juliet.

The funniest thing is, we have the bizarre workings of Fight Club going on here. Brad Pitt steals fat from the lypo department, turns it into soap and sells it back to those women with the fat asses.

The garbage man takes our garbage (food garbage) turns it into compost and sells it back to us.

Or am I just angry, is our food stuffs nothing more than that of the Lion King? Is this just the circle of Life?

Hooray for Movies (and Friday)

2005-09-02T15:28:00.000-04:00

Here is some stuff I found from poking around the internet.
It's Friday suckers....... now go waste some time.

Exploding Whale - This is for Blithering Moron

Horse Fart - Stop staring at his anus already!

Smurfs - No comment needed

SWF: Seeking Lesbo Expertise.

2005-09-01T09:19:00.000-04:00

An interesting question was brought up next to the water cooler today. Do lesbians like to read romantic novels, like those of Harlequin Romance. The stories are normally about straight couples getting their groove on. Wouldn't any normal lesbian find this repulsive? The query was never resolved because asking a lesbian this at work is probably grounds for immediate dismissal, or severe ass plumaging in the bathroom by HR.

This then spawned into something dirty......

I wonder if lesbians use dildo's?

Because if they did, isn't that some kind of breach of contract? Isn't there some sort of aggreement that if your gay you cannot insert tubular "ingredients" in the cavity of your genitals?

Fingers, dildo's, and cucumbers symbolize penis; and these items are inserted in to a hole made for man.....or intended for man.

My co-worker then slapped me in the face and said, vagina's are made for tampons and babies. It my was hypothesis at this point my friend was either a gay feminist, or just very well educated. Vagina's make babies. This was life altering to the maximum awsome-ness.
She then argued that fingers can't be compared to a man's penis because a man with a penis the size of a finger should be cut into little tiny cubes like that of stewing beef and thrown into the trash compactor so he cannot create off-spring with such small genitals.

We all know the chain of life goes like this: Small penis - small sperm - small babies - smaller penis -even smaller sperm - smaller babies - and then so on and so on. This disastrous effect would cause humans to disappear into nothingness.

I bitch slapped my friend/co-worker back. That cannot be possible, small penises are made for gay men to insert into the anus of anther gay man. Small penises are made for small openings. It also creates a muse for comic writers. Without small penises we would have no comedy in this world.

Without gay men and their gay sex we might never have discovered the prostate orgasm. And without lesbian sex and the "hooked" finger women probably wouldn't know about g-spot orgasm. How do I know a women discovered the g-spot..... well because I haven't met a man who's penis bends at 90 degrees.

After all the jibber jabber I have forgotten where I was going to end this story.....But the conversation we had, ended with me talking about the inner ear....... that's another story.

And The Award Goes To........

2005-08-30T14:45:00.000-04:00

This is for Kitty Kat because of this and this

Mr Pinchy, voted sexiest lobster alive.(pictured in center)

Blueberry Diarrhea

2005-08-29T10:30:00.000-04:00

I found this little muffin story that I wrote from over a month ago......not sure why I didn't post it then. But here it is now, and that's what really matters.

Muffins are evil. I am not sure what compel's me to eat them. My husband after pleading with him NOT to buy them, does so anyways. Normally he gets them at the local coffee shop. They are cheap things that consist mostly of flour, oil, and sugar. They are not cakey or flavourfull. If you get chocolate chip they are only sprinkled on top. Same with bueberry and other such items used for flavour.

So why is it that I eat these things. And not just one, but 2 in a sitting or maybe 2 and a half. They lack unique personality of flavour and have crusty edges. I ate some muffins that had no filling in them at all. I could get a hint of flavour knowing I was eating blueberry flavour and I came across a blue stain in the dough. But not one fucking blueberry. I just don't understand why this is. It's like a blueberry came, took a shit and wiped it's blue ass on the muffin dough. I know there isn't a shortage of blueberries, and they aren't expensive. So what is the deal with this flavourless sugary dough, why do I eat this crap. When I do eat this oily sugary dough, I get a feeling of something equivalent to a cement bag sitting in my gut. It's unpleasant and I get cranky.

These coffee shops seem to inject some sort of cocaine in them, making you devour every morsel in the box. They taste like shit but you have to eat more, just like the Tomacco.
We, the people must make a stand against these blueberries, and evil corporations who allow these mis-doings to the pastry of muffins. We must end this madness. End the Blumacco insanity.

Stop eating the muffin.

Wipe My Bum

2005-08-26T13:28:00.000-04:00

A kindergarten pupil told his teacher he'd found a cat, but it was dead.
"How do you know that the cat was dead?" she asked her pupil.
"Because I pissed in its ear and it didn't move," answered the child innocently.
You did WHAT ? ! ?" the teacher exclaimed in surprise.
"You know,"explained the boy, "I leaned over and went 'Pssst!' and it didn't move."

Yeah kids.........

my daughter is at the ripe age of asking very wierd questions. Or making statements that are viewed as wierd.

She is potty trained thank god...... but hasen't yet mastered the art of ass wiping. She has been explained how to do it, but when left with the task, let's just say it's a fucking mess hours after the ordeal.

This is a typical day:

Picture 3 yeard old running to bathroom.
*plop* *plop* *plop*
"Mommy wipe my bum"
"ok"
"Mommy wipe my bum"
"one second"
"Mommey wipe my BUM!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"I AM COMING ONE MINUTE!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Mommy I poohed...........WIPE MY BUM"
Since I am busy, my husband will go to investigate the smelly smeary problem.
"NO daddy..... MOMMY HAS TO WIPE MY BUM!!!!!!!"

Here is a conversation I had in the car last night.

"Mommy why do dolphins have a horn?"
"It's not a horn its a fin"
"A fin?"
"Yes, a fin"
"Mommy do dolphins poop on the beach?"
"No they poop in the water"
"And then they eat the water?"
"Ummmmm I believe there are bottom feeders that eat the poop to keep the water clean..."
"Bottom Feeders?"
"Yes bottom feeders."

After some silence I realized how wrong that might have sounded.....
You know Bottom = Bum

Right about now I am thinking my daughter is thinking that there is a fish that lodges to a dolphins ass and sucks out poop.

Funny Stuff

2005-08-25T12:43:00.000-04:00

So I was watching this movie the other day called "Guess Who" the one with Ashton Kutcher and Bernie Mac. It was an okay movie but I thought I would point out a funny scene that made me giggle like a japanese school girl. You know the squinty eyes and the hand up to the mouth and you go teehehehehehe. It's a delicate little laugh that makes you want to dig out your eyes with a rusty spoon, without any novocaine.

Here is the rough outline of the scene, since my memory is no better than an 80 year old with alzheimer's

Hotel Clerk -- Hi there, how can I help you
Mr Jones -- I have reservations for Mr Jones
Hotel Clerk -- Jones with a j?
Mr Jones -- NO!!! Jones with a P
Hotel Clerk -- ????

That was some funny shit. I even repeated the whole scene out again to my husband, and he just rolled his eyes.

Speaking of funny stuff, Family Guy is a fantastic show and highly recommended.

Peter: Hey Mort, do these suppositories come in other flavors?
Mort: Peter, are you eating those?
Peter: No, I'm shoving 'em up my butt. Of course I'm eating 'em!

While we're at it let's include the new show American Dad

Wife -- oh honey your so upset do you want me to make you happy with my mouth?
Husband -- oh well, let's give it a try.
Wife proceeds to blow raspberries on his stomach.

And of course the classic, The Simpsons. This is my favourite scene of all time.

Backstory- Homer wrote a very angry letter to Mr. Burns and Bart mailed it. Now Homer tries to retrieve it at the Post Offiice.

Homer-- Hello, my name is Mr. Burns. I believe you have a letter for me.
Post Office -- Okay Mr. Burns, what is your first name?
Homer-- I don't know.

You can listen to the audio clip here

Boy or Girl??

2005-08-24T15:13:00.000-04:00

What The..............

2005-08-23T00:48:00.000-04:00

So I got this little gem in my email the other day. Not sure what it is. Not sure where it came from.

I think it's supposed to be a half human half dog freaky sex project that some furry dreamed up.

A furry is a new trend (I think) where people dress up as cuddly animals and do inhumane things to them. It was also explained on CSI: Miami. Just so I can further clarify the strange behaviour, here is a picture that was found on Google. Normally it is denied that such behaviour is for something sexual...... but I disagree.

Anywho....... this is a topic great for a blog entry but I am busy........ so let's make this a free for all, and comment to your hearts desire.

Rage Again: The Ninja Fax Lady

2005-08-22T09:18:00.000-04:00

The Showdown: Friday august 19th
The Time: 4 pm
The Place: fax machine
Papers Left Until Completion: 5

That's right, for those sorry losers out there who think you never get a second chance at life.... I lived it. I lived it for me and my bredren. My fellow readers, I lived the second chance, and lived it gloriously. It was beautiful and magnificent, and my life is now complete. I am ready to die and enter the pearly gates, and speak to my maker and face my sins.

4 faxes to go.....

There I was at the fax machine doing my usual routine. I was minding my business, during a storm that threatened a tornado . Trees were blowing outside, my paper faxes were whirling around inside. I heard the noise. The “nothing noise” the noise that crept up on you while doing laundry in your basement at 1 am after watching a scary movie that made you shart yourself. I was in the eye of the storm.... I looked around and saw nothing. But I knew, I knew there was something out there, in the jungle. The Ninja Fax Lady that was spawned from a litter of phantoms, ninja’s, and cougars. The silent killer is not high blood pressure, it is Ninja Fax Lady!

I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I caught her, that sneaky little biatch. I caught her and her potato sack sweater that she wore. For everything that is holy I got her weakness and ate it up. (Never ever ever wear an over sized sweater, it will slow you down.) She stood there. Silent. Swaying from foot to foot. Almost impatient. I looked at her, not making eye contact, and smiled. You must never make eye contact with the Ninja Fax Lady. She will eat your faxes and wipe her face clean with your soul.

I only had 3 faxes to go……

For those who don't know me, I don't normally smile, so this was a stretch, and it hurt a bit. Some think I am a creepy bitch, others think I am just lonely heartbroken and shy with a child. I see myself as a vindictive, passive aggressive milf.

2 faxes to go....

We said nothing, more importantly I said nothing. I didn’t offer to let her "bud” in line. I wasn’t about to fold under the stress. I kept faxing without breaking stride. She hadn’t brought her evil red folder. She almost looked naked and fragile like a newbie covered in rookie blood. I could sense her eyes growing, the pupils doubling in size, tears welling up.... Chin shaking.....she looked like a Precious Moments figurine. She was a person with feelings.....
“damn you Gravity stay focused, this is the nature of the Ninja Fax Lady, this is how she gets to people.....stay focused don’t lose strength!!!!!”

1 fax to go..........

I punched in a wrong number..... dammit this is going to increase dialing time by another 4 seconds. Ninja Fax Lady was ready to break out some numb-chucks and whip me across the hands with them, I would be left rolling on the ground with bloody knuckles. My faxes would get ruined. My life would be a shameful exhibit for all co-workers to mock in the lunchroom. I would go to my car every night and cry until I gained control of myself and was able to drive home to my family. This can’t happen, no it can’t. I will not let it happen. I punched in 1 then the area code, and then the number. I was smooth and suave, I brushed some sweat from my brow, and then I executed the fax and pushed the "send” button.

I had done it!!!!!!! I had won this battle!!!!!! The battle of all battles. I had won the second coming, I didn't have a speech handy and I didn't have any dance moves that I choreographed. I just walked away, and let myself breathe again. The storm continued on outside but everything was calm again in the jungle.

Subliminal Messages

2005-08-19T15:02:00.000-04:00

Subliminal Messages.

A conspiracy theorists wet dream. An excuse to look at foggy boobs in ice cubes. They are very scary, considering they can influence or "suggest" you into buying items you don't need or want. They have been shown not to work, but my concerning question is, why are they still here then?

Also, why are they usually sexual in nature? Why must a connection be made from food or alcohol, to sex?

I found a number of pictures that had some of these hidden messages. The one located to the left is definitely the most easiest one to spot, I don't think I have to go into details here. I am sure anyone's little imagination who frequents here, can fill in any of the blank spots.

Well, maybe I do.
The message here is, "drink cola and get head"

Here is one of a ham, It's innocent enough, but at the same time very vulgar. I just don't get it. Although, I don't think there is anything obvious like the Cola one above, but it's very disturbing, and I feel very dirty just looking at it. Might I also mention I don't eat ham, and if I ever did, this picture would certainly make me want to stop.

It's thought that these subliminal messages were first introduced into the movie theatre's to get customers to purchase food from the concession stands. "Eat More Popcorn" or "Drink More Coke" was the norm. I have read that subliminal messages must make their statements very simple as to not invoke thought from the conscious mind. They make you want those delectable munchies subconsciously. Because if you could think of it on a conscious level you would be able to "think" your way out of it. Since I am lazy and don't want to ramble on, ( I really just wanted to post a couple of cool pics) I found a very interesting video. Some of it's visual some of it requires audio.

Subliminal Messages

Story Time

2005-08-18T11:55:00.000-04:00

Caves...... they are a large empty space. Normally dark and empty, full of rocks, sometimes wind or water. This pretty much describes a lot of people I know.

It is also an analogy for vagina's. Minus the rocks part, unless your girlfriend is a freak; but hey, whatever floats your boat I suppose.

Anyways I have supplied you with a good internet story that's been floating around for awhile. Give yourself a pat on the back if you read the whole thing. It took me 1 1/2 days to read it while at work. There will be a pop quiz on Monday. Actually no there won't, I am too lazy for that, plus I would have to read it again.

The Caver

If your too lazy to read a long story here is another story, not so long. but very disturbing. Sorry there are no pictures in this story just text, so use your imagination.

The Box

Rage Against The Fax Machine

2005-08-17T12:40:00.000-04:00

So there I am. Like I always am at 4 pm everyday Monday to Friday. Sending my 50 gazillion faxes through the fax machine.
Every now and then I get someone coming up to me asking if they can sneak in and flip a fax through. Sure, no problem, it's only one fax, I don't mind, whatever.
Something strange happened a couple of days ago. I don't know if it was miscommunication, an internal battle of the infamous catfight with someone I barely know, or some kind of out of body experience with a snotty skippy school-girl who hasn't learned the ropes yet.

When I get an interruption it usually involves a question, "are you going to be long?" or "can I just send this one fax?" Fairly easy, quite simple, straight forward.

Picture it, Monday, I begin my routine, A thick pile of faxes, I am on a roll, making a great pace. I feel a presence. It stands behind me, then moves. I look around my shoulder, I see nothing, the presence had somehow disappeared in the jungle of desks, but I could feel the eyes. The eyes were burning into my head and into my brain, my ears were ringing from some sort of telekinesis. I continue my faxes. I hear a rustle of papers, but it wasn't me. It was next to me. I look again to see someone standing very closely to me. The presence had re-appeared from some sort of ninja move I had never grasped after 2 years of being here. Maybe she didn't leave at all, maybe she was standing there the whole time, in her bubble of silence, like some sort of black hole where sound could not escape it's grasp.

I flip another fax through, ignoring her. She still stands there, silent, shuffling papers that need to be noticed. By who? By me of course. She had a folder, a red folder, she quickly snapped it shut when I looked at her again. I zipped another fax through. I looked at the folder, so red, so menacing, so evil.

"FUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK," I thought. She was watching me as my fingers danced across the fax machine dialing buttons so delicately. I realized she was waiting for the fax machine. She hadn't said a thing, she just stood there, like I was inconveniencing her. The folder was draped across her chest along with her arms.

"So........... Did you need to use the fax machine?"
"Yeah." she said cooley
"I am going to be here a while...... You got a lot?"
"No, not really." She said, and whipped out the evil red folder that came from the depths of hell, it was encased with graffiti. Some sort of writing I couldn't distinguish from gang writing or Aramaic.
"I am leaving at 4:30," she added.

"Well........," I wasn't sure at this point if I should let her use it, or make her wait. The devil and his secretary could wait another 3 minutes for his faxes, I was sure. Hmmmmm I wonder if faxing to hell was a long distance call??
"Shit stay focused Gravity, your leaving at 5 pm, let her send the faxes. If you don't she's gonna watch you, and make your nervous. Damn this jungle, and damn this ninja lady"
"Go ahead," I said
"Thanks."
I sat at my desk, and waited.
I waited some more.
I peeked over my computer screen. My two wide blue eyes peering at the ninja fax lady. I saw her in front of me.....Head bobbing, papers whisking around her, I saw a flash of the evil red folder, so red and pure and velvety like blood.
"Why is she taking longer than me??" I thought. "Did I just get taken advantage of?? Was I just lied to??"
I returned to my computer, and waited some more.

Ion's later, she walked up to my desk with the folder, The evil red folder that hides all work encased in it. Disguising everything enveloped in it as a fluffy bunny that is visually stream lined creating the illusion of "quick fax material"
"I am finished." she said
"Thank You," I answered.
I continued with my faxes, I only had 5 left, and took me less than 60 seconds to throw into the fax machine. This was a very strange 10 minutes of working life.

Play With Me

2005-08-16T13:18:00.000-04:00

Play with the girl HERE

Please note it's disturbing and very bizarre.

If you sick buggers want more click here for the website

Take a Vacation?

2005-08-15T10:56:00.000-04:00

So here we are again.......Monday.
Die Monday Die.
I wish I could seperate your letters one digit at a time and burn you and then bury you in every corner of the universe... just so we could skip this dreadful day all together.
I probably need a vacation. And I was silly enough to squander those 8 days on "long weekends" spread through out the year. Now all I have is 2 days and I don't know if I will get to use them as a day off or if I should save them for sick days (my sick days are unpaid here)

If I did have the day off what the hell would I do all day???????

Well since I am stuck here at work and on the brink of igniting myself with gasoline..... I might as well rant about it here so you guys can get some good shit's and giggle's in.

Well it's mostly so I can show you all the magical gif's I stole and now you guy's can use them too!!!!! what fun.

But seriously though, when you don't get any vacations you can get get sick more often. My healthy eating habits are now biting me in the ass because I am healthy as a horse and can't catch a cold if I wanted to. Lack of vacation days can also cause stress (no shit Sherlock) when you get stressed, you get sloppy. Mistakes can and will happen.

Lack of vacation days can also get you fired. Yes, that's right. Working more often can get you fired, let me explain.

You go into work on Tuesday, stressed from Monday. you have some sort of project due on Wednesday, but now your boss demands it Today (which is Tuesday) at 5 pm. Because your groggy head hasn't gotten out of the fog yet and the triple expresso with 4 sugars and 2 creams with a dash of crack hasn't kicked in, you flip your fucking lid and go ape shit on your boss.

The best days to call in sick other than the obvious - Friday or Monday (for the long weekend mentality) I would have to say Wednesday. Wednesday is better known as hump day. Because once you get over the hump of Wednesday it's all down hill with a one way ticket on the gravy train until friday comes along.

So at this point in time I suggest we all just take a "me day" or "fuck you" day and call in sick or plan a vacation day. Or if your just a slacker and have no choice but to come in (like me!) then just remember that us Canadians have a holiday on September 5th, I don't know who's death we are celebrating but it's a day off, and I can't hardly wait.

Ultragrain

2005-08-12T09:24:00.000-04:00

Low in behold after writing my bread article there is new kid on the block. Sara Lee has introduced the white whole grain bread. That's right, it's white bread that is soft and squishy but is supposed to be healthier and fool the kids into thinking they are eating delicious plastic-clog-your-intestines-with-cement-pebbles-white-bread.
After reading an article in the paper yesterday this is what I learned. Sara Lee whole grain (miracle) white bread only has about 30% whole grain wheat in it. Didn't my previous article disscuss the factor of 60% whole wheat bread? 30% That's a fucking miracle folks. Lets market this plastic bread as the new beginning of bread that will change the America's lives in to a healthier living. it will eliminate the need for 100% Whole Wheat and 60% Wheat. It will make the lives of obese American's live 30% longer. 30% longer with diabetes and heart diesease but hell, as long as you can avoid meeting your maker 30% longer than let's all bow down to the white wheat bread makers of Sara Fucking Lee.

Here is quote which made me snicker and roll my eyes until I got a headache:

"The hardest thing is to get a kid to eat something that's brown or anything that looks like it has seeds in it." Tammy Yarmon, director of nutrition services for Omaha Public Schools

Case in point: Chocolate is brown. And I can't get my daughter to stop eating walnuts and cashews. 'nuff said. Actually this is over simplified but whatever.

Not only is this comment ignorant but shows you have no control over your child. If your child refuses to eat whole wheat whole grain brown bread......it's not the end of the world. There is a lot of other "healthier" carbs out there that you can shove down you child's throat. And if they refuse to eat it...... then let the little shit starve. The child will eventually eat. They will, trust me.

Besides, bread, potatoes, and rice are not an essential part of the diet. You have essential amino acids which come from protein. And you have essential fatty acids which come from well..... fat of course (omega 3 ring a bell?) As long as your child is eating enough of these two items they will live.

8 years and millions of dollars later they have created a false sense of pride into parents, and American's in general. Brown coloured bread normally doesn't come from the whole wheat particle but, from the mollasses and food colouring inserted in to the bread. So where was the purpose in this fucking scientific journey? Let me tell you. Ultragrain. That's it. Ultragrain is a "new" type of wheat that is lighter and sweeter in colour than the traditional red wheat used for most bread making/baking.

So long story short, if this ultragrain is lighter and sweeter in colour and taste then why did Sara Lee only inject 30% into their bread?

Rubber Johnny

2005-08-10T16:35:00.000-04:00

This video is best when viewed at home. You need sound and about 8 minutes of your time.

The synopsis is this:

Johnny is a hyperactive, shape-shifting mutant child, kept locked away in a basement. With only his feverish imagination and his terrified dog for company, he finds ways to amuse himself in the dark.

Rubber Johnny

Auto Pilot and The Comfort Zone

2005-08-09T09:39:00.000-04:00

If anyone believes in that horoscope jargon, I am supposed to like: excitement, travelling, and new things. Which of course is the total the opposite of me. I like routine, I like mundane, I like boring. Thanks for Martha Stewart making domestication a cool thing. I like flowers, arts & crafts and baking. If I didn't have such bad allergies and asthma I would be growing hens outta my backyard so I could harvest their eggs for eating and throwing at those annoying paper sales guys who knock on my door.

There is also work. I may complain, and get sick of the same old shit. But you know, I am in "The Comfort Zone"
You know what I am talking about. You pretty much know everything that your required to do to a point that your mind goes on auto-pilot for 8 hours. It's great, it's routine, it's mundane. It leaves extra time for a space in your brain to think about other things. Now those "other" things are up to the individual, food, kids, pooping, remembering to take the pill, that chick in accounting is hot and she would look great bent over her desk with her knickers around her ankles....You know basic "back-of-the-mind-bullshit"

Sometimes my weekends are more stressful than a work week. Weekends aren't planned and are up to the gods kinda thing. I do most of my cooking on Saturday, and Sundays all I wanna do is watch Animation Domination on Fox and eat my 3 chocolate bars. (BTW did anybody watch American Dad where the wife wanted to make the husband "happy with her mouth" then proceeds to blow raspberries on his stomach? That was funny shit) But then sometimes it's fun to actually get your brain back into gear and do something out of the "norm" This mood only happens to me occasionally.

I wear "The Comfort Zone" blanket like it's keeping the boogie man away. Maybe I am afraid of sticking my neck out and doing something different in the cold harsh world. Who the hell knows...Who cares. I am talking about the Auto Pilot syndrome; It's so much fun to go in to Auto Pilot and think about making snowflakes on that crappy website I saw.....Or maybe I should just go with those tab curtains in the breakfast room...... I also have no idea how that chick keeps her hair curly and so long without it going all frizzy...... Why the fuck does my boss have so many vacation days she must have been here for a bazillion years.... Same with my doctor I don't think I have seen her since I was pregnant 3 years ago, now she is always on vacation.... Maybe those paid vacations are from those pharmaceutical companies, so she will prescribe more Alleve for those 25 year olds who are sexually active club-hopping whores and drink more alcohol than a fish drinks water.... I wonder if they use a condom every time they have sex.... Man latex condoms are really irritating, don't those whores get yeast infections.. I wonder if they have an orgasm every time too...

Anyways I did hi-jack this idea from a daily email that's forwarded to me, but I didn't read it because it's philosophical and too intense for work. I just read the title of it and filled in the blanks with my own thoughts...Which are more exciting and interesting because I am so self-absorbed.... anywho, I think it was mostly about the comfort zone in relationships or invading a co-workers personal space bubble while they are surfing the internet for pictures to apply to their blog (what the fuck do you want now??!!!), Or allowing the customer to rape your soul while you still keep the "smile in your voice". Well, maybe I am talking about things that make you go "hmmmmmmm" but mine has more swear words, which makes it risque I suppose.

Case of the Mondays?

2005-08-08T10:44:00.000-04:00

Please amuse yourself with a game until I can update my blog.

Big Boss

2005-08-05T10:43:00.000-04:00

So I was just thinking. What is it like to be a boss? I was sitting at my desk doing nothing as normal and wondered what it would be like to have people below me. Do you walk into an office acting like this is your home, as if you own it, as sorts. It's strange I don't think anyone would take me seriously and would want to listen to me. I would be mocked and have rumours flying about me behind my back. (Gravity is such a bitch because her husband dumped her for another man who is younger and richer.) I assume this comes along with the territory. But how could I live my life knowing that my title as "boss" is automatically hated and feared. I have never really worked in a casual sort of environment, so I haven't had the glorious knowledge of being friends with a boss. (after work we will grab some drinks, then we can go shopping, go home watch a movie and we can have sex in front of the fire place while I stare into your eyes and talk about the John Doe account out in alaska that needs completion asap....oh and just place it on my bed side table at 7 am tomorrow)

I don't even think you can be friends with a boss. What happens if discipline is needed on the lower level pal? Is it taken seriously.......most likely not. It turns into a pissing match and becomes about the personal relationship. (Tom, remember that time back in 1985 when you fell off your bike and you got a booboo and I made it all better......well I am calling in a favour)

But then again...........while I was moving and my husband wasn't there to take charge I took over. I got my shit together and started organizing and telling people what to do. (hey stupid move the fucking couch over there or I will anally rape you with the chair leg) They followed my instructions and it was great. I felt like a had leadership skills and didn't care if I came across as a bitch.( I have a leather whip here with metal spikes on the end and I will give you 5 lashes for any slips ups) I am mostly mistaken as a bitch anyways so I might as well be a boss and serve a purpose. Now that I had a taste for boss-ism I have the hunger for more. But at my company, for me to climb this so-called corporate ladder I will have to have served this place for close to 25 years. (low turn-over rate in my department) That will make me 50. I don't wanna wait that long. So I just sit here and drone on about what's it like being a boss?

Moving Day

2005-08-04T10:11:00.000-04:00

Well I did it.
I moved into my house over the long weekend. It was hard times one week prior to closing. Everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong. I will spare you details as it's lengthy and boring.

Before this house I lived with my mother in law for two years waiting for the construction of this box of bricks. Most of my living was confined to a 11 by 12 foot room. Me, my daughter, and husband. Now that I am in this new house I think I might be suffering from agoraphobia.

I would also like to point out the great accoustics with in this drum of a house. When my daughter had a tantrum the windows began cracking and the drywall flaked a bit. So yeah, I need some furniture, to absorb some of those deafning-blood curdling-wall peeling - make you wanna dig out your ear drums with a spoon- kinda screams.

So what sort of things do you need in order to remain sane whilst moving into a "new" home? Lot's of cleaning agents. Most think that everything is new and clean. But it isn't. Everything is covered in dust. Not dirty, skin flakes, bunny fluffs, and dust mites kind of dust. More like drywall, and spackle dust. If you have ceramic tiles they will be coated in a thin layer of grout that needs to be washed.

For some reason the water out of the tap is pure hot steam, it's not even water because it's so fucking hot. I should probably check the thermostat when I get home. Now I'm not sure who had the need to set the hot water to maximum because you could hard boil an egg in that hot bloody water. But who ever it was I sure hope that he isn't covered in second degree burns.

Cable and phones. You get the "rough-ins" but not the actual jacks. You have to pay for that crap. If you get a brand name guy (such as your local cable or phone company) to hook that shit up, it will be expensive. I recommend you get the phone book and call a contractor to do it. It's about 75% cheaper. Unless your lazy like us and get the "premium package" at your cable company and they hook all of the items up for you.

Hidden fees will surprise you, driveway paving, hydro hookup, tree planting. These items are charged to you when purchasing a new home. Resale homes don't have such items.

No gardening (landscaping) for over a year, or finishing the basement for 12-24 months, you must allow the house to settle and find it's little nook in the ground. You should be broke after closing anyways, so damn you to hell if you can do this kind of stuff.

Chapter 5

2005-08-03T09:59:00.000-04:00

Four years passed along slowly for Queer Duck....at the pinnacle of his success he could not satisfy his urges, as a result he fell into depression.
While battling his severe depression Queer Duck agreed to a movie that was going to cause such a media frenzy it was going to doom Queer Ducks career in show biz.

The then 8 year old Dora didn't have legal parents other than those lawyers of Nickleodeon who agreed to make a movie with the mature 21 year old Queer Duck.

This movie was expected to smash previous box office records because of the broad-spectrum attraction from Queer Duck who attracted older audiences, and Dora who would attract a newer younger generation, thus creating a 2nd life for Queer Duck once his older viewer's bit the dust. The movie was very expensive to film, the produceres had gone over board with hair stylists and wardrobe along with special effects with the sex toys and prothesis breasts Dora was forced to wear.

When the movie first aired it created a huge up-roar, but not the positive one's producer's were hoping for. The sheer graphic material caused the media and the audiences to throw Queer Duck out of Show Business or suffer charges and jail time.

Queer Duck opted to leave show business due to his depression from a suppressed lust for men.
Now that he was out of the media eye he was free to explore his life without spectacle or judgement from the papers and paparazzi.

Thru his 4 years of great stardom-hood Queer Duck had amazingly avoided any form of drug or alcohol abuse..... further contributing his success in his life as a huge star and a regular joe.

Queer Duck is now happily living with his life partner, Sam and working for a company called H&D.

Chapter 4

2005-07-29T09:37:00.000-04:00

Now that Queer Duck had exploded into the Main stream media as a mega star and blurring the lines of porno and TV, Queer Duck had heard nothing but words of praise.

He was seen dating A-list female stars, further boosting his ratings. At this point in his career, Queer Duck was nothing more than an "image" on the screen. No one had thought it was possible for Queer Duck to be in fact, "Queer"

Many women he dated didn't stay around very long...and not offering any form of explanation as to why the couple had broken up....The Media portrayed Queer Duck as most eligible batcheler and was just living the scene.

He did however have a two year courtship with Britney Spears before her marriage with Kevin Federline. Speculations had arised that Britney was a man and that's why Queer Duck had such a long relationship with her. But due to her pregnancy with Kevin Federline those rumours quickly became just that, rumours.
Other rumours quickly arised after pregnancy that Britney either wasn't having sex with her previous boyfriend Queer Duck (further proving her innocence as a virgin) or she was a super freak in the sack thus satisfying Queer Ducks male-lusting urges to have violent anal sex.
Rumours or not, Queer Duck wasn't very happy when he reached the pinnacle of his success, he remained unhappy for the four years he was in the media spotlight. Near the end of those four years Queer Duck was going to make a movie that would create a fork in the road for him. Perhaps for the worse or for the better......

Chapter 3

2005-07-28T09:09:00.000-04:00

As previously discussed in chapter 2, Queer Duck had broken into the pornography industry by mistake.
He quickly became famous with his great acting ability. Soon A-listers were requesting him by name to be the lead male in movies.

He starred with the Flintstones and the Jetsons:

When Futurama came out it was one of his bigger roles that was able to be aired on the TV waves due to its soft porn quality. Most programs edited out the raunchy bits making 65 year old women think that Queer Duck was the next Paul Newman or Cary Grant. They had no idea that he was the leading male penis in the Porno Industry.

Where ever Queer Duck made an appearance, toothless grandmothers and middle aged soccor moms would break out in fights. There would be canes, dentures, and expensive cardigans littering the streets afterwards. The police needed to be called, and clean-up crews would be needed....it became expensive to the tax-payers who had to fork over the cash whenever Queer Duck came to town. But no one seemed fazed by it, because on lookers and fans remained to flock in droves to catch a glimpse of this feathered fornicator.

This diversity created a bigger explosion to allow Queer Duck to transform to the silver screen and to mainstream television shows as Family Guy and The Simpsons:

However this balloon wasn't going to keep soaring. The thin air was eventually going to pop the Ego of this Big Headed Queer Duck.....

Chapter 2

2005-07-27T09:02:00.000-04:00

Queer Duck was just a teenager when he made a movie with one of his clients which became an underground hit with pedophiles.
It quickly leaked out into the media's hands and jizzed all over the laps of the multi-billion dollar a year porno industry as a cult classic.

It aired in theatres for over 28 months, one theatre played it around the clock, creating the largest pool of semen on a theatre floor. It was rumoured that a baby had died in the milky white goo, after a baby-sitting father had fallen asleep after masturbating to the Queer Duck movie.

Queer Duck became famous so quickly, and it made him rich beyond his pea-brained mind, that he didn't bother to charge the man, who under Hollywood laws, violently raped him.

He wore heavy make-up (He was dressed as a turkey) and his amazing acting ability drove more directors to cast him with many leading roles. We have supplied a couple of shots that are safe for viewing but as you can tell by the content it does get much more explicit.

Feathers

After this first movie he was thrusted into the hands of A-list cartoon celebrities which we will further explore in Chapter 3......

Queer Duck Saga: Chapter 1

2005-07-26T10:12:00.000-04:00

This story was created for a prank that was played to someone at my workplace. I have decided to post the story here.
The quick introduction is this: Its about a duck named Queer Duck, I made about a 100 comics/jokes of him, and everyone couldn't figure out if he was gay or if Queer Duck was indeed just a nickname for an employee here. So in order to clear up any confusion I wrote this 5 part story. I have also changed names in the story so please don't try and track me down.

Before Queer Duck became employed at H&D Ltd he did have a life beyond Sam and H&D.........

We will begin with his birth. It was quick, loud and rather bloody. Queer Duck was born so quickly it almost created an explosion.

Queer Duck was raised by his father, as his mother died after giving birth to him. Probably explaining that such a strong father figure drove him to being gay.

Queer Duck was originally known as the "Ugly little Ducky that came out of his Mama's Oyster"

Ugly duck became Queer Duck thru years of tormenting from his brothers and father, fueling the fire to becoming gay.

Queer Duck quickly moved out when he was 15 and moved to Hollywood.
Without food or clothing or money he was young, scared, and fresh meat to dirty men. Queer Duck ended up getting pimped by an older gentleman. This gentleman gave him food, clothing, and a warm place to stay for a trade of violent anal sex 3 times a week.

After 2 years Queer Duck was no longer needed as he was now too old for pedophiles. Queer Duck was disposed of in the trash. He had no knowledge of how to take care of himself, everything was taken care of when he lived with his pimp. He didn't even know how to do his own laundry. Queer duck was forced to live on the streets and swindle money out of the donations boxes at the local convenient store. However his luck was about to change for the better, during his two year bout with prostitution he made a movie with one fellow........

Stay Tuned for Chapter Two

My Little Pony

2005-07-25T09:05:00.000-04:00

My Little Pony, a favourite toy when I was growing up. She is now making a comeback for a second time. Only this time she has a new image, a bad image. She is a dirty little donkey who is completly plastic, dressed in pink, and wears more makeup than Tammy Faye-Baker ......

Crabs

2005-07-22T14:53:00.000-04:00

The man who just keeps on giving. How splendid.