Would I Lie to You - Part Douche (that's French for 'two')

The other day, I wrote a list of truths about myself...

...all in song titles.

Today...you get the bullshit.

Actually, MORE bullshit than usual.

It's like payday for you!

Here goes:

Some lies about myself in song titles.

1) Big balls

I'm fine with this because of my tiny frame.

If these things were any bigger, I'd trip all the time.

And no one likes tripping on their testes.

No one.


2) Fuck Like a Beast

I'm awesome.

However, this may become a truth if the "beast" in question has a tiny wiggly, needs Levitra, and can last only approximately 3 or 4 minutes.

Seriously.

I'm starting to depress myself.


Two side notes:

a) W.A.S.P was fucking AWESOME
b) apparently, I stole the "add a * into the word f*ck" from W.A.S.P....who knew?

3) I Believe I Can Fly

A broken fibula showed me the light on this one.

Damn you, model glue!

Why must you smell so good?!


4) I Touch Myself

Ha!

Just seeing if you were paying attention.

Okay…back to the lies:

4) Sussudio

I have no idea what this means.


5) Seventh Son of a Seventh Son

I’m an only child.

This is why Mr. Wiggly and I are such good friends.

Aren’t we, Mr. Wiggly? Coochie-coochie-coo!

We ARE good friends, huh?

Why yes, we are…yes we…

Um.

Sorry.


My mother, however, is one of 13 kids.

13 goddamn kids.

Way to nail that ‘tang, grandpa!!

Guy musta had some big balls.

Ugh...I think I just made myself throw up in my mouth a little.

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There you go.

If you're interested in doing this, have at it.

I don't tag people ever since I got teased in the 8th grade for actually playing tag instead of smoking pot with the rest of the kids.

This is also why I have "a list."

Just link back to whoever you got the idea from.

It's the nice thing to do.

Enjoy.

Would I Lie to You?

Once again, I’ve outdone myself.

On a side note, if I could ACTUALLY DO myself, I don’t think I’d ever leave the house.

Hey...this penis smells funny!

Sorry.

A thought popped into my head for doing a ‘meme’ the other day.

For those of you who don’t know, a ‘meme’ is the French word for ‘grandma.’

I loved doing that meme.

Man…that bitch was FILTHY.

Wait…wait...

...’memere’ is the French word for grandma.

Sometimes I start talking about the wrong things.

Confused, my head is bacon goodness!!

But I’ve digressed.

A LOT.


A ‘meme’ is something that you can do as a ‘post’ when you’re ‘bored’ or ‘out of ideas’ or ‘lazy’ or ‘sexually repressed’ and ‘may want to have sex with ferrets.’

Mmmm…ferrets.

Fuzzy little sexy things.

Regardless, here’s my idea:

List some things about yourself that are true, and some that are a lie.

Here’s the catch:

The items have to be song titles.

There is no - "you have to have five of each" rule...or whatever...if you can only find one song, then just use one song.

Loser.


Today...you get the "Truth" songs about me.

Tomorrow...the horrible, horrible LIES!

Here goes.

Some true things about myself in song titles:

1) Short People

I’m 5 foot fucking 2 inches tall. Not rocket science here, people.

However, I have a reason to live! I don't wanna die!

There's so much porn I have yet to see!


2) Mama, I’m Coming Home

Seriously, mom – I’m coming home.

I really need a fucking haircut.

3) I Want Your Sex

Please be advised that I may not know what to do with it once you give it to me.

However, I won't have it for very long, because I'm....

4) Too Fast for Love

Seriously...

...I'll have your sex for, like, 3...maybe 4 minutes.

Tops.

Also...to my wife:

Honey, the ‘I second this choice!’ shout out here is totally unnecessary.


5) No Anchovies, Please

Blech.

I hate fish.


If it has a fin, I won’t eat it unless it’s on the endangered list OR it’s a tuna sandwich made ONLY with the following stipulations:

a) My wife made the tuna sandwich

b) The bread is lightly toasted…not too crispy…and DEFINITELY not UNtoasted…that shit’s just plain wrong right there, my friend.

c) It has pickles to kill the taste of the actual tuna

d)It has no f*cking dog hair in it OH MY GOD THERE IS DOG HAIR EVERYWHERE IN THIS HOUSE CAN’T WE JUST KILL THIS FUCKING DOG?!?!


5) I Touch Myself

I'm doing it right now.

My boss is looking at me funny.


6) Detachable Penis

Not true.

YET.

But if I keep doing #5 with the schedule I’m on it’s bound to happen sooner or later.

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

There you go.

If you're interested in doing this, have at it.

I don't tag people ever since I got teased in the 8th grade for actually playing tag instead of smoking pot with the rest of the kids.

This is also why I have "a list."

Just link back to whoever you got the idea from.

It's the nice thing to do.

Enjoy.

In the Future I'm Taller

"Ten Things."

Or...as they say in Spanish:

"Ocho Amigos Enchilada."

(never hurts to add a little culture to the posts)

Anyway...

I saw this on “Misfit Mania’s” site…and thought:

“Man…I have to pee.”

(I drank a lot of coffee that morning)

Actually, I thought:

“This should be fun. Man…I have to pee.”

(I told you…seriously...I drank, like, 5 cups)

Anyway…

The task is this:

List ten things that you would like to say to people one day.


I did not see any rules here…

...so I’m assuming that this does NOT have to be based in reality.

This is a good thing...as I barely spend any time there.

So…

In no particular order, here are:

10 Things that I would like to say to people one day:

(sorry..that was a little over-dramatic)

1) "Wow...those penis enlargement pills REALLY WORK!"

This is good news...

...as it validates the $300 I just spent on these f*ckers.

If there was a "1a" it would be: "Wow...I just got to use my new giant penis!"


2) “I just had a threesome with Scarlett Johansson and Jessica Alba.”

3) “Why yes, that IS my 12 inch penis in your ear.”

(said to either Scarlett Johansson or Jessica Alba)

(also see #1 for reference)



4) “Ladies and gentlemen...I introduce to you my butler...MR. BILL GATES!!"

(Bitch owed me money)


5) “Yes boss, that IS my steaming pile of shit on your desk.”


6) “..and that's how I killed Osama Bin Laden using the super computer that I invented to create a cure for cancer."

That's right, baby.

I'm THAT awesome.


7) “I appreciate the gift, son. But I wanted a yellow Ferrari, not a red one.”

Ungrateful little sh*t.

Kids.

8) “Stick that in my ass again, and I’ll kill you.”

Wait..wait…scratch that last one.

(unless I'm also saying it to Scarlett Johansson or Jessica Alba)

Fine...new #8:

8) “Wow. The Playboy Mansion is everything I thought it would be.”


9) “I’m five-foot-THREE! I’m five-foot-THREE! Finally! Finally! I'm five-foot-THREE!!”


10) “Happy 50th Anniversary, honey. Here…you can take my red Ferrari.”

Seriously...I wanted A YELLOW ONE.

It's like my son doesn't even know me.

Anyway...

Please note that there’s a distinct possibility that #10 will not happen.

This is primarily because of numbers 2, 3, and 8 (either #8...it doesn't really matter).

Here’s to hoping, though.

Love ya, hon!


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

If you're interested in doing this, have at it.

I don't tag people ever since I got teased in the 8th grade for actually playing tag instead of smoking pot with the rest of the kids.

This is also why I have "a list."

Just link back to whoever you got the idea from.

It's the nice thing to do.

Enjoy.

Eight is Enough

So, ettarose tagged me for an “8 Random Things About You” post.

The rules are at the bottom.

Just like the Twinkies I ate yesterday…

...all at my bottom.

Squishy, squashy goodness!


Anyway…

I’m supposed to come up with 8 Random Things about myself.

This is going above and beyond my other posts:

1) My Alphabet of Pain
2) Seven Useless Facts
3) Captain Quirk

As such...you all know WAY more about me than I do about you.

And people..

...let's keep it that way.


Here we go:

1) I was voted shortest person in my High School Graduating Class my Senior Year.

This was a crowning achievement in a year filled with the following fun things:

a) Realized that I was dating a girl with missing digits
b) Got arrested for the first time (upcoming story)
c) Had sex with Lita Ford

(most of the above is true)

Below is the actual photo from my Senior Banquet…

...where you see me gleefully standing with the tallest members of the class.

Why there is no “Shortest GIRL” in the photo, I have no idea.

It’s most likely because she was a cripple and embarrassed about us climbing all over her wheelchair while spitting on her.

Good times. Good times.


Anyway…

Check out my bitchin' mullet (hey...it was the 80's).

Back then, I had more hair BELOW my ears than I do over my whole head these days.




2) Attempting to grow facial hair makes me look like I have mange.

Seriously.

It looks like I’ve randomly stuck cotton balls to my face in various positions.


HOT.

3) I can’t wear hats

My head is approximately 3 inches in diameter.

As such, any attempt to put on a hat that did not originally come from a Cabbage Patch Kid makes me look like this:


4) I would rather eat my own foot than go camping outdoors.

The last time I went camping outdoors was in the early 1990's with my wife (back then she was just my girlfriend).

Ten minutes into unpacking the tent...

...she was throwing my own shoes at me.

Awesome.

Let's rush to do this again sometime.


5) I’m afraid of heights.

Luckily, I’m short so this usually isn’t a problem for me unless I’m standing on anything higher than a step stool…

…or wearing pumps.

But I don’t stand on step stools that often.


6) Spiders make me scream like a little bitch.

I was actually reaching over to do dishes the other day when I saw a small house spider sitting on one of our coffee spoons (apparently, freaky f*cking arachnid sh*t eating disgusting f*cknuts need caffeine, too).

Me: “AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!”

Spider: *blink* *blink* *blink* *blink* *blink* *blink* *blink* *blink*

Note that I put 8 “blinks” for their eight eyes there.

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

Helpful tip to all my writer friends:

Attention to detail in your writing is EVERYTHING.

Please ignore the fact that spiders don’t have eyelids.

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


Anyway...

I was on a business trip in Missouri one time (Missouri state motto: “Where ARE we?”), and was standing in the reception area of the office when I saw the King Kong of all spiders.

Me: “AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!”

Spider: "GRROOOWWLLL!! ROOOWWWRR!!!"

Receptionist (looking at the wall): “Ugh. ANOTHER one?”

She picks up her shoe, and hits the thing on the wall…

...leaving a splat the size of one of Oprah’s bowel movements.

Me: “Holy sh*t. What was that? Some weird giant mutant spider?”

I’m also now considering the fact that I should probably be wearing some type of HazMat suit because of the obvious presence of radioactivity here.


Receptionist: “THAT? Oh…that’s just a baby. They usually get about this big.”

She holds up her hands about three feet apart.

Great.

This leads me to #7:

7) I never want to go back to Missouri

8) I have long eyelashes.

My eyelashes are so long that they usually bother me when I’m wearing glasses (which is always)...

...because they rub up against them, and make me think THERE'S A SPIDER!! THERE'S A SPIDER ON MY LENS!!!


Phew.

Anyway...

When I was a child, people always thought I was a girl.

I’m guessing it’s because of the length of my eyelashes…

…and not the fact that I was also a gigantic fat sh*t of a kid with outrageously large boy-boobs.

I’m sticking with the lashes.

It makes me feel better.

Plus, Lita Ford told me that she loved them.

Sweet.



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

If you're interested in doing this, have at it.

I don't tag people ever since I got teased in the 8th grade for actually playing tag instead of smoking pot with the rest of the kids.

This is also why I have "a list."

Just link back to whoever you got the idea from.

It's the nice thing to do.

Enjoy.

The Wife Speaketh (Mrs. Moog's Five Commandments...OF DOOM!)

You may need to push aside the milk to read this.

Give me a minute...you'll get it.

The other day, I published Five Commandments that I would dictate if I was God.

(Keep in mind that my name is "Rod," so - really - I'm only one letter off)

I'm supplementing those five commandments, with five commandments that I think my wife would make if SHE was God.

(for the record, her name isn't even close - doesn't rhyme with 'God' or anything like that - so I'm not sure this is going to happen)

Anyway...here goes:

Mrs. Moog’s 5 Commandments:



Commandment #1:

Thou shall stop forgetting sh*t you stupid, stupid man.

My wife can somehow remember what earrings, pants, shirt and type of eyeliner she wore on the 3rd of February in the year 1992.

I have no idea how she does it.

I, on the other hand, have already forgotten what I've just typed.


I've also forgotten every conversation that she and I have ever had...

…unless she put it on a sticky-note where I could reference it.

If it wasn’t for sticky notes, I’d probably be writing this right now without pants on.

I'm THAT stupid.


I’ve also forgotten our anniversary….

…and, more recently, her birthday.

(this was brought into stunning clarify last year by the carpenter working on my house...when I called him to see how the work was coming)

Me: "Hey, Len...how's it going?"

Len: "Good. Hey..um...did you know it was Jen's birthday today?"

*cricket*

No.

No I didn't.

Me: "Oh....SH*T."

Len: "She was betting us that you'd forget."

Yep, I forgot.

Why?

NO F*CKING STICKY NOTE!

Let me tell you, guys…

…that was a bad, bad day in the history of me.

Sticky notes.

Word to the wise.



Commandment #2:

Though shall move things in the refrigerator when you’re looking for them.

An example:

Me: “Hey! Where’s the ketchup?”

Wife: “Um…did you look?”

Me: “Yeah. I looked.”

Wife: “Did you actually MOVE ANYTHING when you looked, or did you just look in?”

Um…

No.

I didn’t move anything.

I just looked in.

In an attempt to appease her, I slide the milk a 1/4 inch (2 kilometers for those on the "metric system") to the right.

Ah…THERE it is.

Dammit.


Commandment #3:

Thou shall not touch my f*cking laundry

I'm not allowed to touch her laundry...or even think about ASKING to do it.

Because I shrink things.

Sometimes, the shrunken things also change color.

Yeah, it's pretty...but it just makes the situation worse.

I get yelled at.

I don’t do this anymore.


Commandment #4:

Thou shall learn how to park

I can’t park.

It’s one of my faults.


When we go out, I either:

a) park crooked

b) park halfway out into the lane

c) park 3 miles away from the entrance to where we’re going, even though there were free spots 5 feet from the door

(this usually happens when it's raining)

d) have to straighten myself using the “12-point” method, because I can’t steer her barge of a minvan


I’m a good driver.

But, yeah…

Not so much with the parking.

Commandment #5:

Thou shall clean up after yourself

Wife: “Did you make coffee?"

Me: “Yeah, why?”

Wife: “It looks like the Colorado Dam burst on the counter top. Seriously, you can’t see this?!”

(I look at her pointing at small pond on the countertop…now home to several species of indigenous fish)

This happens EVERY SINGLE TIME I make coffee.


I need to remind myself to clean up.

I should probably use sticky notes.

But...

...I’ve been staring in the drawer for an hour now...

...and I can’t seem to find the damn things.

Maybe I should move something out of the way in there.

Nah.

Now with Only Half the Commandments of Christianity!

Now...if I could only find some stone tablets.

...give me a minute and I'll explain...

But FIRST:

Angryman was nice enough to offer me the very prestigious "WTF" award:

The description:

"This blog makes me think about sh*t"

In my case, there is a literal connotation to this sentence. As sh*t is pretty much all I write about.

Thanks Angryman, much appreciated.

Go check him out...maybe you can make him think about some more sh*t.


OKAY...On to my "Stone Tablet" comment...

I was thinking about religion the other day (I had stubbed my toe and yelled “JESUS CHRIST!”), and thought it would be fun to come up with the following:

If you were God, and could come up with Ten Commandments to impose your will on people...

...oops...sorry...

..."for other people to live by"…

...what would they be?

I figured I’d give it a shot.

However, because I don’t really want to piss off the “Big Guy” (George Stephanopoulos), I’m just going to do 5.

Remember...I'm God in this...I can do whatever the Hell I want.

However, I’m also doing another 5 from my wife’s point of view tomorrow …so..(calculator out), you get 13 in all.

Ladies and Gentlemen…BEHOLD:

The Five Commandments of Moog:


Commandment #1:

Thou shall chew with your f*cking mouth closed.

Seriously, asshole.

What the f*ck?!

Is is really SO HARD to keep your goddamn mouth closed when you chew?


Listening to you chew sounds like Oprah jogging without a bra.

*smack slop splat smack*

I want to shove a rolled up magazine down your f*cking throat.

Oh..and by the way…

You don’t get points for chewing food with your mouth closed if you can’t bring that same talent to GUM.

I really hope you swallow that gum and get worms.

Seriously…keep your f*cking mouth closed you goddamn pig.
Commandment #2:

Thou shall not drive in the f*cking passing lane if YOU’RE NOT PASSING ANYONE YOU STUPID, STUPID IGNORANT F*CKSHIT

I think that one is self-explanatory.

See that car in front of you?

Oh…you see nothing? Really?

Me either.

GET THE F*CK OUT OF THE WAY!!!!

Thank you.


Commandment #3:

Thou shall stop sending me pictures of your kids at Christmas

Sure...it may have been cute when they were younger.

But now they’re in their 20’s.

Cut the sh*t.

I don't care what your kids look like.


I’m guilty of this, too…but only because my wife makes us do it.

She even made us all dress up in matching outfits one year for these pictures.

We looked like the f*cking Osmonds.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.



Commandment #4:

Thou shalt charge less for Pay-per-view porn

This one is for the exec’s at Comcast cable.

Seriously? $14 for a crappy porn movie?

I could make my own for less money.

…of course, it would star two fish and a dog, but whatever.


Commandment #5:

Thou shall speak English to me

I don’t mean “broken” English.

I mean “English English.”

..and since I'm making up these rules...

...why don't you try to get rid of that damn accent while you're at it.

I CAN’T UNDERSTAND YOU.


I realize you live in China…or you used to…or whatever…I honestly don’t care what your f*cking story is.

In fact, I DON’T KNOW what your f*cking story is BECAUSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU’RE SAYING.

It’s “YES,” not “JESS.”

It’s “Vibrate,” not “Wibrate.”

I remember going out to lunch one day at a Chinese restaurant, and the waiter came by to see if we were done.

Except, his accent was SO THICK, that it came out like this:

“Ayoodung?”

My buddy, Jim, thought he said, “How are you doing?”

So…it looked like this where I was sitting:

Waiter (to Jim): “Are you done?”

*pause*

Jim’s reply: “Good.”

The waiter…obviously confused at what just happened…simply walked away.


Accents suck.

Hey…they’re my rules.

I can make them whatever I want.

I need to make these permanent.

Anyone got a chisel?

******
If you're interested in doing this, have at it.

I don't tag people ever since I got teased in the 8th grade for playing tag instead of smoking pot with the rest of the kids.

This is also why I have "a list."

Just link back to whoever you got the idea from.

It's the nice thing to do.

Enjoy.