Monthly Archives: April 2011

Mr. Dangle Shlong Of The Nudist Colony Needs Ice For His COCKtails

Have I ever mentioned what my husband does for a living?  No, he’s not Mr. Dangle Shlong of the Nudist Colony.  We’ll get to that guy in a minute.  Bruce is in the commercial refrigeration business.  His work takes him to all kinds of interesting places.  It takes him to some boring places too, but I’m not here to talk about that.  Let’s get down to the short and curlies of this post, shall we?

Commercial Refrigeration.  It’s everywhere.  Grocery stores, liquor stores, hospitals, bars, restaurants, warehouses and so on and so forth.  There are small reach ins, huge walk ins, open air display coolers and of course, ice machines.  Which brings us to how my husband ended up experiencing a nudist colony. 

By the way, he assures me it is not the sexy hotness that most people think it is.

This does not look comfortable

It started something like this:

Bruce:  My boss asked me if I would have a problem going to do a job at a nudist colony. 

Me:  Do a job at a nudist colony?  That sounds dirty.  I’m listening…..

Bruce:  Yeah, he said that this place needed their ice machine fixed.  I’m pretty sure he was just fucking with me. 

Me:  I’m sure he was.  A nudist colony?…..Come on.  He was totally fucking with you.

No, Internets, as it turns out, his boss was not fucking with him.  He actually had to go to a nudist colony.  How fabulous!  Well, fabulous for me being the one to hear the story.  Not fabulous for Bruce who had to try and be the total professional that he is while being surrounded by old man meat swingin’ and sweatin’ in the August heat.  Not to mention the titties that were all around resembling fried eggs hanging from nails.  Get what I’m saying here?  Nudist colonies are apparently formed by groups of people who want to be naked around other people but really have no business actually being naked around other people.  Centerfold material these people were not. Whatever.  Just because one’s nakedness is a savage assault to your eyes doesn’t mean that they don’t deserve ice for their cool refreshing adult beverages, right?

Bruce is no prude.  He’s there to do a job.  Bruce is also very observant.  As he’s in the kitchen area working on the aforementioned ice machine, he can’t help but wonder about health codes.  I mean, there’s a lot of exposed skin in an area where food is being prepared.  At this point, latex gloves on peoples’ hands is the least of your worries in regards to food safety.  And perhaps that salad bar should have a sneeze guard for genitalia.  Just sayin’.

Bruce is also a curious fellow.  He wanted to know how one joins a nudist colony.  So he asked.  They have three rules, he reports to me. 

1. No Cameras (sounds like a good rule)
2. Pass a background check showing that you have no sex crimes on your record.  (due diligence.  I like it)
3. When sitting, you must use your towel.  (I am not liking the visuals in my head from imagining the furniture if this was not a rule)

The time eventually comes where Bruce needs to get paid for his work.  Good luck finding someone in a nudist colony with a goddamn checkbook on them.  Can’t you just imagine everyone patting their non existent chest and pants pockets, shrugging and looking back and forth at each other?  No worries.  Payment is on it’s way via Mr. Dangle Shlong, the guy who originally called for the ice machine repair.  And he’s not naked!!  Nope.  He’s wearing gleaming white Reeboks, a Bluetooth and a fanny pack.  No shit, Internets.  Can you picture it??? 

So that, my friends, was my husband’s first (and only?) experience with a nudist colony.  Next time let’s talk about when he’s had to work on broken coolers at morgues……

photo source

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Sakura Whaaaaaat???

Oh my fucking christ, Internets!  I have been neglecting you way too much lately, and for that, I apologize.  It’s sooo not my fault, though.  See, I usually do my blogging at work (shut up)  and lately this place has been sucking my will to live in regards to all the shit they expect me to do.  They act like we have some sort of agreement where I do work and in return they give me money.  Ok, they do give me money, but it isn’t enough.  And since my salary is so shitty, I’ve taken it upon myself to add my own personal compensation by way of napping, blogging and/or drinking heavily on the job.  Yay me!

In my last post I spoke of my recent bout of blockage.  The writing kind, not the intestinal kind.  I’m working my way through it.  I think.  I also mentioned the freak fest that is SakuraCon  thrusting (heh, I said thrusting) it’s way onto the downtown Seattle scene for the weekend.  Now that I think about it, I do believe I promised photos.  For once, I have kept my word, Internets. 

I will apologize in advance for my shitty camera and photography skills.

SakuraCon people made ME feel like the weirdo in my high heels dress pants and suit jacket.

Hmmmm……Japanese school girls……

Umm……NOT Japanese school girls….

This guy is totally straight.  I’m sure of it.

Ok, I was actually walking behind these guys before they stopped to do their super-awesome-not-weird-in-any-way pose, and the shirtless guy who looks like a 45 year old washed up porn star had the hairiest fucking back ever.  Ew.

Uh huh. Ok.

This guy’s arms were nowhere to be seen.  Inside the cube tweeking his own nipples, perhaps?

                                 

At this point I’m just wondering what the actual tourists were thinking.  “Does Seattle celebrate Halloween at a different time than the rest of the world??”

And then there’s these two freaks…..wait.  Nope, no.  Sorry.  Just some Red Hat Society ladies ladies thrown in the mix.

My, my, my!  What a big key you have there!  I wonder what it unlocks?  No, on second thought, I don’t wonder at all.  Now move along.  I have a feeling something way more interesting is coming my way.

BINGO!

Believe it or not, I’m pretty sure this chick wasn’t with the conference.  No, just some hot chick who put on a belt mistaking it for a skirt.  I didn’t hear anyone complaining.

What’s this?  She has wandered in to the bar I’m at.  And at the table right next to mine!  What luck!

Yes, I boldly snap close up pictures of random chicks asses all the time.

I hope you all enjoyed the weirdness.  I know I didn’t. 

Until next time,


Colon Blow (But For My Brain)

Internets, I suck.  Really.  I had excuses for not posting before the family visit.  I had excuses for not posting while the family was here.  Now?  Now I have no excuses, but more importantly, no fabulous post to share.  I think they have a name for this condition…..what is it?  Umm……writer’s something…… 

Writer’s Block?

But how can that be??  I’m not a writer.  Me having writer’s block is like me having prostate problems.  It simply doesn’t apply to me.  : : sigh : :

I started this blog, not because I thought for one minute that I was a writer, but because I could not stand the devil Facebook anymore.  I knew I had more to say than what I was cooking for dinner.  I also don’t have any children to annoy all of my “friends” with constant status updates about what color the Little Shit’s  boogers are or how he/she/they are just the most precious goddman gifts sent straight from the heavens above. 

Besides, can you even get a “Nice Rack” award on the FB? 

Anyway, I guess I’m just blocked.  Yeah, I’m mentally constipated and I haven’t even been eating that much cheese lately.

I even got an award this week which I love because I can almost always take an award and it’s rules and make a fun post out of it.  Not so much this week. 

What the fuck, right?

There is a bright spot on the horizon.  A freak-fest is headed my way tomorrow that should make for good blog material and I shall have my camera at the ready.  Quit being all pervy, it’s not that kind of freaky.  It’s Sakuracon.  What the shit is Sakuracon, you ask?  (It’s ok, I didn’t know either)  It’s a Japanese animation convention of the nerd kind, I’m told.   I guess this stuff used to be called Japanimation but now it’s called Anime or some crap.  I’m not even sure if it’s games or cartoons or what.   I don’t know because  I’m way too cool for stuff like that.  I’m into seriously edgy shit like this:



Plants vs Zombies.  Totally NOT nerdy.




I Guess Boob Week Is Over. Oh, It’s Not?

I have family coming to town today so I’ve been a bit busy being all domestic.  You know, cleaning up all of the dead hookers.  Just kidding!  They’re not dead.  Anyway, I haven’t had any time to post anything.  And of course, while the fam is here, it will be the same story.  So, I’m cheating just a bit today and re posting a fun little Q&A bit from a while back.  I don’t want to be a complete post-cheating bastard, though, so I put a little something extra at the end for you, Internets.  Because I’m a giver and it’s the right thing to do. 

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Originally posted February 24th 2011

  
I was tagged by the extraordinary Vinny over at As Vinny C’s It for a game of Twenty Questions Minus One.  What the…?  That’s just 19 questions.  Why the hell are we calling it something more complicated than it actually is?  Let me start again. 

I was tagged by the extraordinary Vinny over at As Vinny C’s  for a game of Nineteen Questions!  How exciting.  Let’s get this bitch started!

  1. If you have pets, do you see them as merely animals or are they members of your family? – Family.  But cooler than children because I can go away for a weekend and just leave the toilet seat open and know that they are ok.
  1. If you can have a dream come true, what would it be? – That one where Johnny Depp comes to have dinner at my house and saves that kid from choking  by giving him the Heimlich maneuver then carries me off to bed to ravage me.  Wait maybe that was a music video and not a dream.  Or maybe it’s both.
  1. What is the one thing most hated by you? – Bitches who fuck with my family.
  1. What would you do with a billion dollars? – Anything that I wanted and it wouldn’t even matter if it was on the very fringes of being legal because, hey, I’ve got a billion dollars.
  1. What helps to pull you out of a bad mood? – Cocktails and porno movies.  Just kidding!  Cocktails and my husband dancing like a monkey.  It’s a sight to behold.
  1. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone? – This is a tricky question.   It depends on the person you are trying to love.  Some people make it difficult to love them.  Ever had an addict in your family?  And some people you just don’t want them loving you; like your Sneaky Uncle.
  1. What is your bedtime routine? – Brush teeth.  Wash face.  Gather up the kitties.  Get under covers.  Make blanket-tent with knees bent.  Force kitties into tent.  Read.  Sleep.
  1. If you are currently in a relationship, how did you meet your partner? – You can read all about that here.
  1. If you could watch a creative person in the act of the creative process, who would it be? – Bob Ross.  Shit.  I guess we’ve all seen that.
  1. What kinds of books do you read? – Right now I’m on an Anne Rule true crime extravaganza of the Kindle kind.
  1. How would you see yourself in ten years time? – Older.
  1. What’s your fear? – Living long enough to have to wear adult diapers.
  1. Would you give up all junk food for the rest of your life for the opportunity to visit outer space? – Fuck. No.  I think we’re wasting our time and money with this space exploration bullshit.  Humans are clearly not meant to be in outer space.  Have you seen that pee suction thing they have to use up there so that they aren’t floating around in a piss storm?  Gross. 
  1. Would you rather be single and rich or married, but poor? – Don’t try to trick me in to sounding shallow.  I’d divorce my husband tomorrow for that billion dollars we talked about earlier.  Wait, I meant to say, how poor are we talking?  Like cardboard box in an alley poor, or no Belvedere vodka poor? 
  1. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up? – Smack a cat.  For reals.  That bitch is usually the reason I’m awake before I have to be because she’s pawing at the window shades next to my bed looking for Squirrels.  It’s winter, Fatty!  They’re fucking hibernating!  **SMACK**
  1. If you could change one thing about your spouse/partner what would it be? – If I could change anything?  He would not be a Radiohead fan.  Ish.
  1. If you could pick a new name for yourself, what would it be? – Jezebel Van Buren.  No hesitation.
  1. Would you forgive and forget no matter how horrible a thing that special someone has done? – That’s too vague.  Knock up a hooker?  Give me some time, I’ll get over it.  Put the easy-squeeze ketchup back in the fridge upside down?  Get the fuck out.  Now.
  1. If you could only eat one thing for the next 6 months, what would it be? – Well whatever I choose I’m fucked because I’m clearly not going to be getting balanced nutrition.  So let’s pretend that what I pick has all the vitamins and minerals and healthy goodness and…..oh who am I kidding?  It’s macaroni and cheese.  Ok? 
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MY RACK!!!

Be back in a few days!


So Many Things!

Holy shitballs, Internets!  It has been quite a week, eh?  There’s been mouth rape, a movie screening,  I made a new blog award and now I have a hoard of new followers!!  Apparently boobs are quite popular and my new award is tearing it’s way through the blog world as we speak.  Go on little fella; go make the world a better place.   Why would a “Nice Rack” award make the world a better place?  Because people like boobs.  They make people smile.  They put people in a better mood  And with the state of things in the world right now, happy smiling goodness is just what we all need, right.?  Well, that and cocktails.  So for my new blog award I say, you’re welcome, Entire World.

This guy…….

…..is a blog pimpin’ god.  He also likes it when I use ipso facto in a post.  It seems that most of my new readers trust his word and possibly the word of his Evil Twin enough to have scurried on over here from his place after this post; which cracked my ass up and possibly made me fall in love just a titch.  Thanks Bruce!  You, my friend, are golden.

Now, there is still the matter of this movie review I promised before the mouth rape incident on Monday.  For those of you who are new to this dog and pony show of a blog I’ve got here, I went to a screening of Kevin Smith’s (Bob of Jay and Silent Bob) new film, Red State on Monday.  It won’t be released in theaters until October but I’m a high roller and decided I wanted to see it while he was on the road with it and doing a Q&A bit as well.  You can read about it here and here if you like.  The thing is,  Roger Ebert I am not.  I don’t know shit about reviewing films other than “That shit was awwwwesoooome” or “What the fuck did I just watch?”  So, I do believe I’ve promised something I can’t deliver.  I will say this: it’s a good movie.  Freaky religious weirdos, guns, horny teenagers and holyshitIdidn’tseethatcoming! type of moments peppered all through it.  Go see it this fall.  You won’t be disappointed. 

I’ll leave you with some tidbits from Mr. Smith’s introduction of the film.  Because he is, after all, a funny motherfucker.

When referring to members of the Phelps family* wanting free tickets to his screening in Kansas City, Kevin sarcastically said this:
– “Oh, God hates fags but apparently he loves a discount?”

Kevin encouraged others to make their own signs to peacefully and in good fun protest the Phelps family and/or their supporters that were there protesting his film. Here are some examples he gave:

– His gay friend Malcolm Ingram made a sign that said “DICK TASTES YUMMY” 

– Some kids from the school near the Sundance film festival had signs that said “GOD HATES HOMEWORK” 

– And some guy had a sign that had Wicket the ewok with a circle around him and a line through it.  (I don’t care who you are that shit is funny!)

Because, Kevin said, “Anyone can write horseshit on a sign.”  Word, Kevin.  Word.

I wrote down some other shit from the show, but I can’t read my handwriting.  And, yes,  I am absolutely blaming that fucking dentist for it.  What a dick.

*In case it wasn’t clear in this post, I think these people and those associated with their nutbar church are lunatics.  I am embarrassed to have them as members of our species. 


The Review Has Been Postponed Due To Extensive Torture Time

I know I promised you all a review after the screening of Kevin Smith’s film Red State here in Seattle last night, buuuuuuutttttt……….I was accosted and brutally mouth raped with various torture devices for aboooouuuut 3 hours yesterday.  Yes, Dr. Dimento was feeling feisty.  Or just felt like being a dick.  Just kidding.  He’s really a nice guy and doesn’t even get upset when I say fuck like a thousand times in his office.  But, he is dentist after all so, ipso facto, he’s dick. 

So, Internets, as soon as I’m feeling better I shall deliver the review. 

SF


I Like To Keep My Bitches Happy

Some people are just never satisfied.  I mean, I give an awesome blogger award to my fantastic buddy Kage and what does she do?  She goes and bitches about it not being an award for her  breasticles. 



Ain’t she a beauty!!!!



Of course after I thought about it, I decided she was right.  She has some pretty sweet boobs.  And she has a fabulous photo banner of her and her two buddies on her addictive and stalk-worthy blog Sex, Sequins + Sugar Free.  Crap.  That’s not what it’s called.  It’s Sex, Something + Something.  I know the word sex is in there and a plus sign……. OH!  I’ve got it!  It’s Sex, Sequins + Sociopaths!

I like to keep my Kage happy, so I made an award for her.  That’s right.  I made it.  It was not bestowed upon me by anyone, (though I do have a pretty spectacular set myself) I just decided to make up an award and give it to someone.  So there. 

Kage, my darling doll, here is your award.  And I don’t even give a shit what you do with it.  Pass it on or don’t.  Share shit about yourself or don’t.  Wallpaper your bedroom with it or……ok, that one would be pretty cool.

You know what?  I’m in a good mood so I’m gonna sling this bad boy out to a few other peeps with nice boobies.  Kat at Tapetum Lucidum as a nice rack and her latest post is about How to Blog, Gain Followers and Be a Rockstar.  It’s quite possibly the most well written “how to” guide, like, ever. 

And let’s not forget about my little blog-vixen Hed over at Hed Above Water, who coincidentally, posted a pic with SIDE BOOB just as I was composing this post.  (See, I was going to link to the post where she looked devastatingly gorgeous in her wedding gown, but when I got over there to get the link….SIDE BOOB!!)

I’m also giving this to Rafa at The RudeBlog.  I know what you’re thinking.  He’s a dude.  Doesn’t matter.  I don’t care what day of the week you stop by his blog, you are guaranteed to see some beautiful ladies with, yes, boobies.  And beer.  And absolute metalness.

There we have it, Internets.  The first ever “Nice Rack” award.  From me.  To you.  So go ahead and snatch it up and pass it along to any bloggers that you know of with a nice set of hooters.

** I may or may not have ganked the rack image from google images and modified it to be an award.