Entries by tag: humor

all these lines on my face getting clearer
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...and taxes
peepeing claude
he increasing number of emails I get every day warning me that the ladies are laughing about the size of my penis terrifies me. It wouldn't bother me so much, except that so many of them are from my mother. I try to keep things in perspective: she hasn't seen my penis since the early 1980s, but it was fully erect. Hot tip: when tossing it to the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, be sure to lock the bedroom door.

One thing that scares the ever living shit out of me, though, is Andy Rooney. I mean just look at him. Do you ever wonder what it would be like to have cotton puffs for eyebrows? I've become convinced that Andy Rooney died over a decade ago and was replaced by an animatronic. CBS would have you believe that the computer they added to his desk in the 90s was to give the appearance that Andy was in-step with the digital age, but it's really what controls him.

I'm not afraid of dying, never have been. If you believe in an after-life, then we continue and endure in a new place. If not, then we don't know we're dead or alive so it doesn't really matter. I am afraid of growing old, though. I'm afraid of the gradual and debilitating process of aging. My grandfather is 87. I can't even imagine what being at that stage of life does to the psyche. When you're young, it's easy to be philosophical about the future: that tomorrow may never come, live in the moment, carpe diem! Lennon said life's what happens while you're busy making plans, but it's true that everyone plans for a future. You fully intend to still be here tomorrow, next month, next year. What happens when you have to accept that that is no longer possible? When the prospect that you may have no more tomorrows becomes very real, how do you live in your own head? You can't defy the one thing certain about life. I fear that breaking point, that moment when you realize that there is no more future. The point where you give up.

I have no desire to live to be old for these reasons. I think 70 would be a good age, maybe 80 if I was in reasonably good health. I don't want to waste-away my final years in some long-term care facility. In cases like that, I think Alzheimers is a blessing. To become oblivious to reality and live in a fantasy world surrounded by long-deceased friends and family. To not know that your body systems are shutting down. To not suffer the look of pity and often patronizing tones of family. My hope is that when my time comes it will be quick: a sudden heart-attack or a stroke in my sleep and I never wake-up.

As with any fear, all I can do is face it. I know I can't defy the inevitable, but maybe I can find the ability to always believe in my own future until that final second.
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fried chicken and coffee, they're making me mean
have an incurable and chronic disorder. At first I thought I could live in silence and just put on a happy face every day, but I can no longer do that. I need the support and love of my friends if I'm going to live with this terrible affliction. It's called Popeye's Menu Dyslexia, or PMD. I'm not sure when it started, it feels like I've always lived with it. PMD is typified by the habitual tendancy to transpose the number of pieces of chicken you want for the numbered dinner on a Popeye's Chicken menu. Its symptoms include uncontrollable rage coupled with bouts of depression upon learning that you ordered the wrong thing. The following example is a typical Popeye's Menu board:

#1 2pcs chicken dinner
#2 3pcs chicken dinner
#3 4pcs chicken strip/nugget dinner

In the past I have wanted two pieces of chicken, walk right up to the counter and order a #2. Tonight, I wanted a #2 because I wanted 3 pieces of chicken, then proceeded to tell the lady at the counter I wanted a #3. And I never want a #3 because I'm pretty sure those things are made largely of ass. Oh my shame.

Chain wallets are a rather ingenius idea when you think about it. I don't know how many times a week I've nearly left my wallet in some strange place due to absent mindedness. I've considered getting one, but decided against it; I can't afford to lose that many pairs of pants on a weekly basis.

teach them well and let them lead the way
s I drive back and forth across the country, I'm regularly assaulted by billboard advertisements along the highway. It has caused me some amount of concern that, with increasing frequency, I see Kids Eat Free. This is a growing problem in our nation that must be addressed now before it's too late. We need a unified effort in the future to insure that an adequate guage of chain is being used, with industrial pad locks, and that a suitable, secure anchor point is being utilized at all times.

Jason explains the internet
ontinuing with soopageek's greatest hits - this is probably the funniest thing I have ever written here or anywhere. In the spring of 2005, I had a student named Jason. I can't possibly recount here the depth of entertainment Jason was, but if you're truly interested in reliving the experience, I have both a tag and an entire memory subcategory devoted to the various entries I wrote during that period of time. On March 7, 2005 I attempted to do an impression of Jason. Basically I pondered, how would Jason explain the internet to someone? And this is what I came-up with.

"Jason Explains the Internet"

I saw this show, on the Discovery Channel once, where they had these typewriters with little TV's that sat on top of 'em.  Do they have the Discovery Channel where you're from? I think they costed about three thousand dollars! And people wrote things on them and stuff.  Yeah, about three thousand... maybe 900 dollars.  And they use the Ty-uh-TV, mm-writers to talk in ciphers.  You ever hear of anything like that? They said something about "cipher space" or something.  And I think I remember ciphers being like secrets, only not letters, but 8 numbers you can't hear.  But we don't have anything like that in Harrisburg.  Do you know James Berman?  He had a TV repair place in Harrisburg, but he was from Aynisscratch, Illinois.  I thought he might've fixed your TV one time because he had a goldfish he bought at the State Fair in Louisville 6, no, maybe 15 years ago.  He went to ITT Tech, or maybe MIT to learn engineering on TV's and he says they have this inner net that catches everything you type to send it overseas and the goverment's worried about pirates.  I didn't even know they still had pirates, did you?  We sure don't have anything like that in Harrisburg.  It sounds sorta scary, 'cos the pirates have viruses that infect the males with worms, which sounds kind of gross, ha ha.  And I think it must only infect the really strong guys who work-out and stuff because he said the worms were in "he-males".  He said the worms can travel the whole world in a couple of hours without dying.  I guess that's 'cos of all the oceans being wet.  That's why the government is building the Reformation Super Highway to cross the oceans safe and not have to worry about pirates and worms.  Someday, like maybe next year, you'll be able to drive from here to China, or Canada or something.  I think that'd be kinda wild, ha ha. To be able to drive to Canada?!?!!

you can't be a pimp and a prostitute, too
n a daily basis I receive no less than 3 or 4 emails suggesting ways to increase the size of my penis. These emails stop at nothing, from suggesting that girls lie when they say that size doesn't matter to showing pictures of a woman holding a ridiculously large shlong in her hand and making an "Ooooooh" face like she just opened the greatest present ever. The increasing frequency with which I receive these emails is becoming so much that it's not enough to simply ignore them any longer. So please, lossfound, could you ask your mom to stop sending them? They are quite a nuisance and it's not really my problem that she has a problem finding a large enough organ to sufficiently fill that cathedral.

How about some gams? These belong to kcsusie.

You can't go wrong with fish net.

Keep sending them to me. SHOW US YOUR GAMS!
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lost my head running into your house
arlier in the week, I made the mistake of peeking at a real estate web site. I had decided that I was going to wait until next year before buying any property. It would give me some time to save-up for a down-payment on a mortgage. I have been known, though, to browse through the listings periodically or keep my eyes open whilst driving about Frankfort. I guess with the precarious nature of where welfy and I stand, I was thinking that I might have to give some consideration to my living situation. Granted, I could easily not have any place to live if it came to that; it's not like I'm home very much anyway. I could easily put my stuff into storage until next year when I was ready to buy a place. I've come to like Frankfort... a LOT. More than that, I've come to enjoy having a place to come home to. I guess my thinking may have been along the lines of, why move twice?

In short, I fell in love with a house this week. Its location on East Main is peculiar, but also very interesting. The interior of the house is also very interesting, from what I can see through the windows: hardwood floors, a beautiful staircase, fireplace, and French doors. Welf caught wind of my house hunting and asked if there were any good ones and so I had to concede that there was a strong contender. I took her to see and she fell in love with it, too. She asked if I bought it, could she rent a room from me.

Welf ended-up going back to the house the next evening with her brother and future sister in-law. Apparently, the lady who is the selling house lives just a few doors down and still had keys to it. She was outside working in her yard and offered to let them inside. LUCKY. So Welf has actually gotten to see the layout of the house and she still thinks it's awesome. I got in touch via the web with the realtor who's listing it to setup an appointment to see it next time I'm home.

This afternoon an agent called me back and I have an appointment at 09:30 on Sunday June 10th, the next weekend I'm home. After talking with Welf about what she saw and seeing photos that her brother took, I'm not counting on finding anything that would be a deal breaker for me. The mortgage payment would be about the same, maybe even less, than what the rent at the duplex is. I may just go for it.

just finished loading in Bloomington, IN and am bound for Columbia, MD just outside Baltimore. I don't have to be there until 15:00 tomorrow so it should be a leisurely trip. The loss of miles from not training is missed, but I'm enjoying the pace that comes with working alone for a little while. It's a nice respite.

Finally, I'd like to share something that has had me in stitches for days. A couple of nights ago, Welf and I were laying in bed and looking at a Something Awful photoshop thread called The Adult World of Richard Scarry. The entire thread was a hoot, but this one in particular makes me giggle every time I think about it.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

why can't i stop and tell myself i'm wrong, i'm wrong, so wrong?
ith the degree of stress and strife which abounds, it's natural for me to turn to music which is tinted with a mixture of more complicated emotions. It's not always a world for silly love songs.

I would like to make it clear, though, that if I ever begin to descend to the point that I'm listening to soul-less emo crap; place No Remorse on the turntable, put it on 11, and slap me around with the album jacket until I come to my senses. If I'm too far gone for this intervention, I implore you to do the following:

Invite me to your house. I don't know, tell me you want to show me your new thick-framed glasses and whether or not I think it goes with the sleevless V-neck sweater. When I get to the door, lure me in by waving Promise Ring records at me and saying, "Come on, Soop! That's a good boy! Come on! Come here! Good Boy!" Maybe whistle and make clicking noise with you tongue. Clap your hands some. Once you've gotten me inside, you can pat me on the head, lead me out back and put me down; I've obviously lost the will to live.

hardy har har
or those of you that didn't suspect, or whom I didn't personally IM or e-mail yesterday.


Sally's running just fine. David and I are bound for Oklahoma then Pennsylvania over the next couple of days. I'm just sitting in the passenger seat goofing off while he drives.

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