dasramblings

In case all 3 of my readers don’t know I’m a Dallas Cowboys fan. They won tonight. I have a chubby and I’m officially a Romosexual. Hopefully this will clinch us a first round bye and home field in the playoffs. I don’t think they’ll fall apart after this win.

Having said that.. what the HELL is up with people at work who use the shitter? Today I went to take a crap. When I opened the stall there was a log sitting there taunting me like Mr. fucking Hankey. Of course it was a big hairy fat co-worker who doesn’t know how to flush. My question is how do you not know to flush? Obviously a log of that magnitude would require at least a courtesy flush. Still he left it sitting there for the next person to see in all it’s glory. Maybe he gets his rocks off showing people his shit? I dunno.

What I’m also wondering is does this type of thing happen in the ladies room? If one of you ladies are on the “periodical” do you just leave the bloody rag sitting there? I guess if you had the same mindset of some guys you’d write your name in blood on the wall followed by a bloody pentagram. Actually, that’s kind of cool. Maybe you could write “Slayer” in blood too. Metal!!!

In closing – flush. If you don’t flush write “Slayer” in blood.

GO COWBOYS!

I don’t know about you guys but I could go for a bagel with cream cheese on it right now.

I just ate some turkey, called my ex and said hi. She likes cream cheese as well. We should eat cream cheese and bash my fucking furnace with a hammer.

Know what else we should bash with a hammer? Abercomie  and fitch fuckers. I’d love to put their spike hair, swiss cheese shoes and striped shirts in a blender and make a faggot milkshake out of their ass. Of course I’d hit them with a hammer both before and after the grinding. Bitches.

I’m drunk and it’s what you want. My back also hurts and I have turkey in my teeth. It will annoy me in the later a.m.

Peace.

Correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t Wal-Mart the biggest retailer in the universe? If this is true why can’t they hire competent help and have more than ONE FUCKING REGISTER OPEN at a time??? My super Wal-Mart has at LEAST 40 registers that can be used at any one time. Tonight ONE was open.

Every damn time I go to that store for their low, low prices and selection of everything it sucks. There is always an inept person working the register having a hard time ringing someone out. Always. I was the 3rd person in line tonight. The dude in front of me had 5 items and the one in front of him already has his cart full and ready to go. However because cash or credit is such a difficult concept it took me 10 minutes to get checked out.

“Use the self check out!” you say? Well I would’ve but they were all closed. Of all the things that shouldn’t be closed it’s the self checkout lanes. They’re not without peril however. Whenever I use those lanes I’m usually stuck behind some fucking welfare case trying to jam food stamps into the change dispenser. Either that or they can’t read and have no idea what they owe. They’ll keep putting cash in until the magic machine prints their receipt for a 24 pack of diapers and a carton of USA Gold.  After they wipe the drool from their unwashed acne-ridden faces it usually takes another 2 minutes for them to put the crap in the cart and waddle thier fat asses out of the way.

Ugh. Glad I got that out. I feel better.

Fuck you Wal-Mart.

First I’d like to apologize for not writing when I was totally fucked up this past Saturday. I was too busy entertaining.

Anyway I’ll recap the day/night:

Woke up around noon hungover as fuck from drinking way too late Friday night. I blame Kife and Pretko for keeping me awake. Still it was fun as hell.

We got something to eat and then chilled for a few hours. I dropped Missa and Kife off so she could get her ink. I had to drive around the whole city because us Pollocks felt the week BEFORE Thanksgiving is a proper time for a Christmas parade. Wtf..

Around 4:30 Jen and Mike arrived. We watched Penn State blow yet another game. Brian the motherfucking MAN showed up with his tap. After that folks just started rolling in like mad. A lot of people brought booze for the party which was awesome. Cary and Kira brought us some Entemann’s sugary goodness. My buddy Brian brought a handle of SoCo and so did Gump and Amy.

Anyway around 8:15 the first quarter was kicked (a new record for my November party) so I sent Russ to get us a new one. Beer pong straight owned that barrel. We continued to play and get all screwed up. I was 6-0 at this point and making it rain.

About 9:30 or so everyone is feeling good. Russ is getting a lap dance from Kira’s cousin and enjoying it. Everyone is laughing and having a good time. Booze is flowing like the Nile.

From that point on time had no meaning to me. I worked the crowd and made sure everyone was enjoying themselves. It was also funny because Karen was getting mauled by pretty much every single guy there. I was polite however and didn’t maul her since she brought cheese and pepperoni.

At some point my dad and his buddy Ed showed up. We partnered up for beer pong and I honestly have no recollection if we won or not.  We hung out some more as the party started to thin. Folks were in and out all night.

Art got a blowjob too apparently. Bastard.

So this cat Mike shows up that we met the night prior at the bar. Cool dude. He calls up two of his buddies from an unnamed local band. The dudes roll over and we feed them some shots. They were already pretty screwed up from their gig I suppose. One of the guys was cool but the other one jacked a few of my beers without asking. Of course they were old beers and were put there for that very reason. (Thanks for the idea Pretko)

At this point it’s around 6:30 am and everyone is shot. The last of the people leave who weren’t staying and we crash.

About noon Kife wakes me up to tell me he and Missa are leaving. He also tells me there’s something in my bathroom. Turns out to be what I assume is a fuckin heroin needle! I suppose one of the rock stars decided to get a little warm and fuzzy in my bathroom. Classy. Needless to say I tossed it out.

My party was a success though. Nothing got broken, no fights and everyone had a good time. The H thing kind of annoyed me but it happens I suppose.

Oh, there were boobs exposed too. Can never complain about that.

So here it is I’m fuckin drunk you bitches and hos!! All 64 of you.

I ate an omlete with cheese and bacon toight at Perkings. It was good. I didnt lify my head the whole time cuz I was fuxored.

It’s 4am an I’m scewqwy. I drank a lot

ever hate someone just cuz they’re a dick? I hate this one dude who I’d love to smash in the head with apipe. I was told not to and out of respect I didnt smash him

My house is cold but the furnace shall bring life and heat tommmmmorowo I love you tommow you’re only a light away……………………………

water is good, cats are bad booze is good and smokeas are good but bad so eat shit. yup I’m funkn cranked.

I ‘d like a pumkin muffin from perkins but I hjad eggs and bacon and water and all that good

shit

hell.fuckin. yaa. I’m going to bed.

Ho’sQ!

Tonight I went out. Honestly after the PSU home game season my liver hurts and I really didnt want to drink. However I’m stupid and did. Granted I have a minor buzz and I’ll feel fine tomorrow. Still, I dropped about 30.00 I didnt have to. I would’ve been just as content chilling in my house, kicking my cat and watching a flick.

Instead I’m going to wake up tomorrow 12 beers fatter with a raspy throat. What really gets me is I knew it was going to happen. I always enjoy hanging out with my friends but tonight really didnt do it for me. We did the same shit. I cracked jokes, drank and now I’m home.

Blah. I need a woman. This is getting old. I’m not even drunk enough to be funny anymore at this point. Wah fuckin’ Wah.

Of course I’m going to do it all again in the PM Saturday. This one is planned though so let’s hope for a good blog when I get home and attempt to type.

L8z.

That’s right. Nothing again. My creative juices have been running a bit dry. Its hard to get inspired when you’re stripping paint off a door with 100 layers of old paint on it.

I’m covered in sawdust, my house is a mess from it and I’m still not done. All this for a door. Only about um.. 100 more hours of stripping my remaining molding so it’ll match to go. Hopefully I don’t get a tumor from the fumes of the stripper. Blllaaahh.

Next blog will be entertaining – I promise.