Mental Poo: January 2009

Thursday, January 29, 2009

How Richard Gere Deals with This Shit I Have No Idea


Gently...softly...

I held it in my hand.

It was soft...

...it almost seemed...vulnerable.

Slowly and deliberately, my fingers stroked it's length.

It moved.

I bent down and kissed it gently.

It responded by standing straight up...

...and biting the shit out of me.

FUCK!!

Hamsters suck.

Yeah. Hamsters.

Why?

What were you thinking?

Jesus H. Christ, if I could kiss my own dick you think I'd be sitting here writing this shit instead?

I've digressed.


My kids each got a hamster for Christmas.

We made a deal a while back that said if the kids were good, we would get them hamsters in December.

On a related note:

Parents do stupid, stupid things.

When the authorities couldn't completely prove that the church arson was their fault, we had no choice but to get them the fucking rats.

Hamsters, sorry. The fucking 'hamsters.'


Here is what I've learned in the few weeks we've owned these hamsters:

1) No matter how many times you describe it, your 5 year old does not understand "NOCTURNAL"

Cam: "I can't wait to play with him!"

(that's what she said)

Me: "Cam, hamsters are nocturnal. Do you know what that means?"

Cam: "They sleep during the day."


(first day of owning hamster)

Cam: "MY HAMSTER IS SLEEPING!"

Me: "Cam...it's noon. They're nocturnal, remember? They wake up when you're asleep, okay?"

Cam: "Okay."

(...the very next day...)

Cam: "MY HAMSTER IS SLEEPING!"

This has been going on every day for three fucking weeks.

I may start dipping the fucking thing in my coffee in the morning just so I don't have to hear this shit.

Watch Starbucks take this idea and run with it.

Starbucks Cashier: "Would you like to try our new Non-fat Mocha Triple-Siberian-Dwarf Hamster Latte?"

Customer: "No...I'll stick with the regular coffee you make that tastes like Rosie O'Donnell's charred colon after a fire in an enema-testing factory."

Great. Make that TWO ideas I've just given to Starbucks.


2) Hamsters shit

Now, as a man, I enjoy pooping (with this ONE notable exception).

I enjoy pooping a lot. Maybe too much.

I sometimes try to poo even when I don't have to, just because it puts a smile on my face.

Sometimes it puts a grimace on my face, but that's usually only after I eat something pointy.


But, mother of Christ - hamsters poo like they've got a fucking quota to meet.

It's like their lower intestine is a goddamn conveyor belt.

I'm picturing that "I Love Lucy" scene with her and Ethel at the chocolate factory...

...except instead of chocolates, it's hamster shit.

This visual gets really gross when they start eating it.

I call it:

"Two Girls, One Cup - Rodent Edition"


3) Hamster balls are awesome

(that's what the girl hamster said)

No..no..different balls.

I'm talking about the little plastic balls that you put the hamsters in and let them run around the house.

(On a related note, because of lack of use, mine also feel like plastic)

Watching these little things book around all over the house while every once in a while is pretty funny.

It gets REALLY funny when your kid picks the ball up and bowls it across the floor.

I love my kids.

Then the hamsters start shitting in the fucking ball (you know...the hamster in Bolt didn't do this) and it turns into a disgusting display of a rodent running around the house in a ball filled with his own feces.


Which is exactly what it would look like if I ever went down a hill in one of those Zorb balls.

Just me...in a ball...

...rolling down a hill at breakneck speeds...

...covered in my own shit.

Like you ladies out there haven't had that fantasy about me.


4) Habitrails fucking ROCK

Each of my kids got their own hamster cage.

With some of their Christmas money, they went to the pet store (you're never too young to hitch rides) and bought some of those interlocking tubes and shit to connect to them.

For the next three days I stood there...

...designing...assembling...

...redesigning...reassembling...

The combinations I could make and the designs I could create were endless!


I was having a great time...

...until my wife poked her head in the room.

Wife: "Ah. I see you're finally putting your Architecture Degree to work."

* my happy fun balloon goes 'pop'

She's awesome sometimes.

Other times, she does this.

I'm SO pooping in her chocolates.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Dear Moog: Human Resources is on Line One


It's another time for an exciting episode of "Dear Moog"...

Where you talk, and I listen.

I'm kidding.

I'm a guy.

I don't listen unless you somehow work the word 'tits' into the conversation.

Then I'm all ears.

..and maybe a little showing of penis.

**********************
Disclaimer:
I am not responsible for any stupid sh*t you do to yourself or others as a result of taking any of my advice seriously. There, I think that covers it.

You've been warned.
***********************


Today's letter comes from GoingLikeSixty.

GoingLikeSixty has the distinct honor of having some really fucked up sites.

This one is my favorite:

Asian Women Holding Things

FYI - they're holding televisions and shit.

Not what I want to see them holding, but a person with this kind of weird fetish is my kinda guy.

(GoingLikeSixty: Please forward your porn collection - I'm sure it's pretty freaky. Thanks in advance.)


It's been a while since I've had a "Dear Moog" letter...so my helpfulness may be a bit rusty.

FUCK OFF YOU STUPID DIPSHIT!!

Nope.

Sharp as a tack.


***************************
Letter #1:

Dear Moog,

Why are guys always arrested for DOWNLOADING


***************************
That was it?

Downloading what?! What did you download?!

Is it weird Asian freaky porn?

Are you forwarding it to me?

Don't send it to my work email, I'm already on probation with Human Resources for the 'fondling incident' in the ladies' room.

Janitors walk in at the most inopportune times.


Oh...wait...another email...

***************************
Dear Moog,

Shit. damn enter key just goes off too quickly... that's what she said.

Anyway, like I was asking, why do guys get arrested for DOWNLOADING porn?

Don't they realize that they don't have to download it to see it?


Sincerely,

GoingLikeSixty

PS: can you be arrested because of your bookmarks?


****************************
Dear Going,

First off, I'm not sure why you'd get arrested for bookmarks.

Seriously, they're pieces of fucking paper you have stuffed in page 72 of "Little Women."

You can't be arrested for your bookmarks unless you have a written confession and DNA evidence of the dismemberment of your neighbor with THE DOG WHO WON'T STOP BARKING MAYBE THIS WILL TEACH YOU TO SHUT THE DOG UP MAYBE DIE BITCH DIE DIE DIE..

ahem.

Perhaps I've said too much.


K. We're back on track now.

"...downloading porn...

...Can be arrested..."


Um...

WHAT?!?!

I CAN GET ARRESTED FOR DOWNLOADING PORN?!?!

Like, just straight porn...or does it have to involve sheep and shit?

Let me know as soon as you can, because these farm pictures ain't gonna delete themselves.

Thanks in advance.


Regardless, I'm assuming that you're talking about the 'bad porn' here, and not just normal 'I now need to go spend 5 minutes in the men's room to wank myself' porn.

I believe the types of porn you CAN be arrested for include:

1) Child Porn
2) Fat People Porn
3) Guy-on-Guy porn

Well...maybe you can't be arrested for #2 and #3, but you should.

Freak.


Let's answer your question.

A little tidbit that some people don't know is that every image you view on every page of every website is actually downloaded to your computer.

This is called 'cache.'

I know this because I work in the computer industry.

Then I couldn't think of what it was called so I Googled 'what is it called when shit is saved on your hard drive temporarily' and that word 'cache' came up.

Seriously - sometimes if it wasn't for Google and Wikipedia, I probably wouldn't have a job.

I'd probably be working in midget porn.

Stupid Google and Wikipedia.

KILLERS OF DREAMS!!


Sorry..sorry...

Cache.

Currently, the sheer volume of cache on my computer taken up by pictures of 'tits' and 'ass' and 'sheep with nice tits and asses' is causing my system to shit the bed every ten min

* reboot *

Sorry.

Had another window open with a Megan Fox side boob shot.

That reboot was SO worth it.


So, every once in a while, go into your browser settings and clear that shit out.

Then format your computer and rebuild it nightly.

You never ever know when that knock on the door is cockblocker, Chris Hansen.


Helpful Tip: Remember to save off your wife's shit and restore it or she'll be on to you.

Of course, if she was "on to you" in the first place, NO NEED FOR PORN!

Look at that.

Even some advice for the ladies.

You're welcome.

Moog out.

****************************
There you go! Yet another exciting episode!

I have a "Dear Moog" link on the top right of my page, or you can email me here.


Want bad advice? Want sh*tty answers?

You've come to the right place.

Drop me a line.

Moog out.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Motivational Filler - Surveys

Before I start today, got a movie review of "X-Files: I Want to Believe" on "Moog's Movie Reviews."

Also, later today, will be a movie review of "The Wrestler." For this one, in a Moog's Movie Review first, it's a husband/wife he-said/she-said!!

(not really worthy of two exclamation marks)



Later this week, "Hotel for Dogs."

Yep.

Hotel for Dogs.

Going to Google how old Emma Roberts is, right now.

* pause

She's 17.

Now I feel dirty.

Which is no different than usual, really.

Carry on.


*********************

Motivate THIS.

(points at crotch)

Nothing to see here today...

...except a custom "motivational poster" made by yours truly over at Big Huge Labs.

Seriously...

...I have no idea how I made it almost 40 years without finding this thing.


Here's today's poster for you (click to enlarge (that's what she said)):


That sound you hear is all of my homosexual male readers fleeing.

It's okay...we can all find them hanging out in the men's room.

"Hi, Senator!"

If you want to see all of the posters, click here.

If you like them, feel free to post them on your site.

Just give me some credit.

God knows my bank won't.

Moog out.

Monday, January 26, 2009

'Whack the Men and Poo on Him' Comes in SECOND?!?


I'm ashamed.

Not only because I'm the fastest lay in the land (*KAPOW! PING!), but for the fact that - apparently - you people don't know how to vote.

Before the holiday break, I put up a poll to keep you busy.

(that's what she said)

The poll was to vote for the weirdest search term that this site comes up in.

50 of you voted.

The rest were, apparently, spinning Dreidels and eating ham.

(probably not the same people doing both)

Hope you had fun with that.


Here are the results.

Question: What's the most disturbing search term my site shows up in?

Fifth Place (4 votes): Ass Clowns

I don't know what an 'ass clown' is or why anyone would want to search for one.

Worst. Birthday Party. Ever.


Fourth Place (tie - each with 5 votes):

- Sex Sucking Monkey

- Tied Pregnant Filled Water Tube


Um...

Sex Sucking Monkey?

I'm not sure if someone was searching for sex with a monkey who sucks...

...or searching for a monkey to suck while having sex.

Either way, my search came up empty.

Perhaps I've said too much.


Tied Pregnant Filled Water Tube?

Sit down, waterboarding! There's a new torture technique in town!

I miss John McCain.

Third Place (7 votes): Alton Brown Sex Story

I know how this got here:

Fuck Alton Brown.

Asshole.

In fact, fuck Alton Brown's asshole.

THERE. THERE'S A SEARCH I CAN LIVE WITH.

My sphincter is still bleeding from the raw turkey recipe you gave me.

Here's to you getting the same result...different method.


Second Place (8 votes): Whack the Men and Poo on Him

Hello?

SECOND PLACE?!

Jesus H. Christ.

Call me old fashioned, but I like my whacking without all the shitting on me.

And vice versa.

Never mix the two - you're just asking for a nasty, nasty clean up.

Unless we're talking about Alton Brown.

By all means...whack and poo away.

First Place (21 votes): Monkey Penis Sex Girl

If this isn't the name of a rock band yet, there's something wrong with this world.

I Googled this myself to see what came up in images.

Here's the #1 image:


Um.

Wha..?

I'm sure whoever searched for that term certainly didn't want to see a bunch of Asians attending to a sheet-covered person.

Seriously.

If there's a monkey under there having sex with a girl using his penis, we should really pull that fucking sheet off.

Like the Kinks said: "Give the People What They Want."

Unless it's an Alton Brown sex story.

No one should have to watch that shit.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Check Out My Long Fellow


Poetry.

Remember this little ditty?

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
So I think this is a pretty good place to bury the body.


Fucking poetry.

If there's one thing that Obama's Inauguration has taught us, it's this:

Poetry. Sucks.

First, though, an apology to my readers who are poets and who have those hideous "here is my poetry" sites:

The Apology
A word, a phrase
From within you they move forward
And push pen upon paper.
And, yet still
No one gives a flying fuck you pompous shit.

See?

Anyone can write this bullshit.


Yeah, I watched the Inauguration even though I'm still a Republican and would pay to see a Sarah Palin porno.

I basically caught Obama fucking up the oath, and then randomly dozed off during his speech.

Then I went to work out.

Awesome pectorals wait for no man.


When I got home, though, one of the guys on Fox News was bitching about the Inauguration.

Yes.

a) Fox TV.
b) A journalist complaining about the Democratic Inauguration.

Thank you, Obama!

Change IS happening!!

Regardless, the Fox News guy was bitching about the poet.

Apparently, MC Hammer wasn't available for the festivities, so they hired some broad to write and read a stupid fucking poem instead.

Can't touch this.


I'm not writing the poem, but here is the link for those interested in reading it.

* pause

Ah, now that the one person who clicked on the link is back, let's continue.

Here's an excerpt:

"All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair."

..um...

The first black President is about to be sworn in, and you're reading shit about some guy changing a fucking tire?

And I have an ancestor on my tongue?!

Jesus H. Christ.

I thought it was just a fucking cold sore.

Hi Grandma!!

While you're in there, can you pick out that strawberry seed stuck in my back molar? You're a dear.

Ugh.


Just curious, but since when could I just open a fucking Thesaurus, write down some random shit, call it fucking poetry and then get invited to read it for the President?

What's next?

If I can draw a goddamn turtle from a matchbook cover without tracing him, do I get to go to the fucking ball, too?


You see...we can all be poets.

You can do it too.

Here...watch how I transform my morning into poetry:

Original text:

I woke up this morning and my goddamn nose was bleeding. Fucking winter. I drank a cup of coffee, took a giant shit that broke the surface of the water, and did the crossword puzzle. I think I have a hemorrhoid or colon cancer because my shit was red. Then I went to work.


Transformed into poetry:

Awaken, I am, and expunge a flood of crimson life.
The days have become cold and dry.
Refreshed I become in the nectar of the Gods
as I sit upon the throne of contentment;
Puzzling.
Concern for my inner being dwells
As the evidence of my movement breaches the surface
And, forlorn, all that I see is red and disturbing.
Then I went to fucking work.


Ooooh. Tough.

Poetry.

Bullshit.

Excuse me, now.

I have to go fix my fucking tire if I'm ever gonna make it to the 2012 ceremony.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Runaway Commando Junk


Long one today.

(that's what she said)

What?

I was a regular work of art.

However, instead of it being “oil on canvas,” it was more like “penis on denim.”

Let me explain.

My first week back to work after my two week holiday ‘vacation’ was also my first day back in the gym.

On a side note, I’ve put ‘vacation’ in quotes there because spending copious amounts of time at home with your 5 and 8 year old kids is more like being waterboarded.

Now, I’m a fan of torturing people (hello? I’m a Republican) so when I say it was "like being waterboarded" I mean it was "like being waterboarded AND having to listen to all those fucking whiny bitchfuck liberals next to me complaining about it."

Seriously.

I’m being fucking tortured here so these nice government people here may potentially get some useful information out.

So shut. The fuck. Up.

Thank you.


I believe I’ve digressed.

Oh yeah – the gym.

So, it’s my first day back in the gym and I’m sweating my balls off.

Literally.

Listen, when you shave your pubes off things tend to just move around there all willy nilly without the benefit of the added friction.

It’s like those shiny "ben-wa" balls but without the fancy tattoos on them.

Unfortunately, for me it’s also unlike the "ben-wa" balls, too, because I’m the only one who plays with them.

This shit stresses me out.


After the guy on the treadmill allowed me to look under his feet for my right nut (see? I WAS sweating my balls off), I hit the shower.

(queue gay porn music…not that I know what that sounds like or anything…

...you know…

...forget these last two lines altogether)


I open my gym bag to get dressed and pull out…

…socks.

Just socks.

No underwear.

Me: “Oh, shit.”

Guy next to me: “Lose another nut?”

You see...

I’m a boxer-brief guy.

I like wearing underwear.

Wearing underwear makes me feel like I’m wearing underwear.

I like this feeling.

But today?

No underwear.

Awfuck.


I see two options to go with here:

1) Go commando

Yep…put on the jeans…no underwear.

Just me and a small sliver of Levi’s separating Mr. Wiggly from modern society.

I don’t like this option one little bit.

I don’t like this option because I’m wearing button-fly jeans.

Going commando in button-fly jeans increases the odds that you’ll unwittingly be sitting there with the head of your dick poking out of one of the spaces between the buttons.

Dick (shielding his eye from the sun): “Wow! There’s a great big world out here!”

* dick makes a run for it while screaming ‘FREEDOM!

Guy next to me: “Dude. Your junk is really fucked up.”


If I had a decent sized dick, I’d have no problem with the probability of my Mr. Wiggly breaking free.

However, for me there is the distinct possibility that my dick could actually pop out one of the fucking button holes.

Stupid small dick.


So, I look at option #2:

2) Put on my old underwear

I glance down at my old underwear.

My underwear has just undergone a one-hour workout.

It’s not pretty.

You see, although I’m in pretty good shape, I sweat a lot.

I’m sweating as I’m typing this. It’s the fucking space bar that wears me out…it should be shorter. Less effort.

Cardio sucks.


As such, my underwear looks like the tattered remains of a piece of clothing pulled from the wreck of the Titanic.

Film THAT, James Cameron!

(Kate Winslet: call me)


Putting this torn, damp and decrepit piece of cloth on would:

(a) not only feel pretty fucking disgusting but..

(b) also turn my jeans into ‘dirty jeans.’

Dirty jeans are a rare occurrence in a man’s world.

According to the Man Rules, jeans are not considered dirty and can be worn multiple days in a row as long as you don’t:

1) Shit in them

2) Play mud football in them (although, this rule varies depending on the wetness of the mud and if the mud stains can be wiped off when they dry)

3) Shit in them while playing mud football (FYI – the other players will tease you)

4) Get ass sweat on them


I wasn’t planning on shitting myself or playing mud football or any combination therein…

…but I surely would have transferred my copious ass sweat from my Titanic-wreck briefs to my jeans and potentially caused BOTH an ass-sweat stain on my sculpted buttocks as well as made a 5 foot radius around me smell like a 24-hour fat person all-anal gang bang.

* reminder to myself to return that video


I went with option 1.

So, I sit here typing with my tired little pecker shielded from the cold, cruel world by a fraction of an inch of denim.

It feels yucky. I don’t like it.

On the bright side, I’ve noticed that my nuts aren’t sticking together right now.

Hold on…hold on…

That’s because one of them made a break for it.

Stupid runaway junk.

This is totally gonna freak the guy next to me out again.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Motivational Filler - Accomplishment

Before I start today, got a new movie review of Gran Torino over on Moog's Movie Reviews.

Carry on.

***************

Motivate THIS.

(points at crotch)

Nothing to see here today...

...except a custom "motivational poster" made by yours truly over at Big Huge Labs.

Seriously...

...I have no idea how I made it almost 40 years without finding this thing.

Here's today's poster for you:


You know...

...sometimes I almost feel bad for these douchebags.

Almost.

My other title to this was:

If you want to see all of the posters, click here.

If you like them, feel free to post them on your site.

Just give me some credit.

God knows my bank won't.

Moog out.

Monday, January 19, 2009

The Unfortunate Cockring Incident

Bill Gates blows donkeys.

Asshole.

Hope he chokes on the f*cking thing.

Let me explain.


I was Instant Messaging one of our software developers the other day.

I choose Instant Messaging over face-to-face talks with software developers for two simple reasons:

1) I'm wicked fucking lazy

Seriously.

I don't even like walking to my goddamn car.

I've considered buying a Segway so I could ride it to my car to avoid the walk.

But then, I'd have to walk to my car to go to the Segway dealership, and that's kind of defeating the whole point.

I don't like moving if I don't have to.

This also explains why my chair at home is covered in feces.


2) Software developers a usually creepy freaks of nature

In any company, pick the one guy who would be voted "Most Likely to Come Back After Being Fired and Kill Everyone with an Uzi"...

...and, chances are, he's a software developer.

There are three types of software developers:






Here's how to see if a guy in the workplace is a software developer:

a) Does he/she wear t-shirts that have shit you don't understand on them, or a shirt that they've owned since the late 80's?

Like this:



..or this:



LOOK OUT, LADIES!!

b) Does he/she avoid eye contact at all costs?

Software Developers typically have all the people skills of a steaming brown pile of shit.

Like this asshole.


Barry is single.

Barry likes bridge.

Barry stutters when he yells.

Barry also bears the dubious distinction of being the only man I've ever threatened with physical violence in the workplace.

TWICE.

So, yeah...he has the people skills of a steaming brown pile of shit.

Actually, sometimes my poop has a pretty good personality.

Especially when I put those googly eyes on it and use the corn as it's nose.

Me: "Well hello, Mr. Brown!"

Lunch time is fun!

Where was I?

Oh yeah...

I was Instant Messaging with the software guy.

The developer wanted me to test something with one of our software applications.

While I've got this IM window up on my laptop...

...I open the application up.

I get the application's "Login" window.

This requires me to enter in my system password.

So, I do it.

I enter in my system password.

I hit (ENTER).

Then...

...I look up.

Oh. No.

Turns out that I did NOT send my password to the application.

Nope. I did not.

I sent it to the f*cking developer guy.


Here's what sending my fucking password to the guy looked like.

Yeah. Dumb fuck.

******************

midgetmanofsteel: okay...trying it out now.

Developer Guy: The document that I emailed you talks about how to create an alarm from this event. No matter what the severity they would still need to follow the same steps.

midgetmanofsteel: C0ck;ring

******************

*cricket

Oh. No.

Yep - my password is "C0ck;ring"

Fuckity fuck fuck.

I can't imagine what this guy was doing...

...just sitting there...

...minding his own business talking to a software tester when, out of the blue comes:

C0ck;ring

Ugh.

****************

* long pause

midgetmanofsteel: woops - great...now you know my system password.

midgetmanofsteel:
stupid Windows

midgetmanofsteel: ...waiting for HR...

****************

I had never met this guy before.

I had no idea how he would react to me sending him the just the fucking word:

"C0ck;ring."

I was hoping it wouldn't be any of these:

1) "Are you asking me? Of course!"
2) "What did you call me?"
3) "You should pump my anus without lube!"

No. It was none of those.

Here's what he said:

*******************

Developer Guy: Rodney, that's more than I ever wanted to know about you.

*******************

Phew.

Thank Christ.

But now I have to change my password.

I'm thinking, maybe,

"Ass;F1sting"

Too easy?

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