Three snippets today.
This differs from the snippet I had back in October, which rendered my testicles scarred like Edward James Olmos and my sperm playing eternal solitaire.
But I digress...
Story #1: I'm Harder than a Rock!
That's right, I'm like a f*cking diamond.
I've been awarded the first ever "You are a Diamond" award by Patti over at "Diggin' for Diamonds."
You'll find this in her review of my blog:
"Okay moooooog35, your posts are "huge ass diamonds", but the look of your blog...not so much."
If I had time to work on the look of my blog, I probably still wouldn't fix it as, frankly, I don't give a sh*t.
(this attitude translates to my clothing as well...and explains my current wardrobe of "Underdog" T-shirt, plaid bermuda shorts, and shart-scarred underwear).
The last time I had huge "ass diamonds," (lawsuit against Taco Bell's bowel-destroying 'Chalupa' is still pending) I needed an ointment to heal my shattered sphincter.
...she means "huge-ass" diamonds.
Story #2: The Marco Incident
I got this email from my buddy, Heath, the other day:
"For some reason I thought of you when seeing this.
Just to clarify - it would be the small, elfish, fairly muscular little dude that reminded me of you."
He then attaches this:
Sometimes, I'd rather eat my own ass then have friends.
"I see you subscribe to "Iranian Pumping Midget" magazine.
How noble of you.
I think it's all good, though, as he's probably still trying to get back at me for "The Marco Incident."
...about "The Marco Incident"...
Heath hails from Oregon.
(Oregon state motto: "Wait...Woodstock is OVER?!?!")
Heath came to New England on a business trip one time, and we went out drinking at the local bars.
Because I didn't want to drive home, I crashed at his hotel.
(On a side note, it's true what they say about men with big hands...
...hey...maybe the sphincter problem really ISN'T because of the Chalupa...)
I woke up in the morning with Heath still asleep, and - as I exited - left the following note on the floor outside of his door:
Thank you for last night.
It was the best homosexual anal sex I've ever had.
I have no idea where the name "Marco" came from...it just popped into my head.
As I walked to the end of the hall, I turned back to look...
...and saw that the cleaning lady was reading it.
He didn't find the note until three hours later when he woke up.
I have no idea how many people walked past his room and read it...
...but it's really funny to think about it.
I'm guessing instead of having me over that night, he would have rather eaten his own ass.
...instead of having Marco do it.
Story #3: The Moog Shudder
Last night, I was about to hop into the shower when my four year old son knocked on the door:
Son: "Daddy, I have to go to the bathroom."
Me (naked): "Okay, you can come in."
My son stops for a second, then says:
Son: "I promise not to laugh at you naked."
I HOPE YOU PISS YOURSELF YOU LITTLE SH*T!!!
Later on, I was retelling this to my wife:
Me: "..and he said, 'I promise not to laugh at you naked.'"
My wife laughed.
Then I said:
Me: "I guess that makes one person in the house."
My wife looked at me.
Wife: "I don't laugh at you when you're naked."
Me: "I know. I'm just kidding."
Wife: "I just shudder in fear."
She shudders in fear.
How awesome to hear.
My Self-esteem: -146
This is my family that I love so dearly.
I bet Marco wouldn't laugh.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Three snippets today.