Wednesday, April 3, 2013

“MJM's Random Thoughts”

Just as the title states this is a collection of my random thoughts, I had no other place to put them so I figured I would list them all here for your viewing pleasure. You're not going to find any pearls of wisdom here, or heartwarming sentiment, just a bunch random nonsense that popped in my head throughout the course of my day. There is no method to my madness, there is no rhyme or reason, honestly, I'm not entirely sure how I come up with this stuff, maybe it has something to do with my being dropped on my head when I was a baby but who knows.

Random Thoughts...

#1. I was thinking about a, not getting one, but why is it called a lobotomy...shouldn't it be called a lotopomy since my head is on the top of me?

#2. Who's scarier, the people trying to ban the guns or the people loving on the guns like as if they were their own children? Trick question, they're both equally nuts. We don't have a gun problem, we have a people problem. Anyone who thinks owning guns is the problem or anyone who thinks guns are a necessity needs to have their heads examined, the guns aren't crazy, the people are. One side wants everybody to be armed to the teeth so we could handle things like they did back in the Wild West days and the other side thinks banning guns all together will make us a safer nation with less violent crimes, both sides need to get beat with a wiffle ball bat...not hating, just saying.

#3. Life is a crazy ride, from the birth certificate to the gravestone and everywhere in-between, just keep your hands and feet inside the car and remain seated until the ride comes to a complete stop. Please check your sanity at the door and lay your straitjacket on the bed with the rest of the coats. By the way, I love applesauce and I can't wait until I'm old enough to start wearing diapers again so that I can poop on myself to keep warm when I'm cold and not have to get up from the TV to use the bathroom.

#4. Am I the only one who thinks "jack in the box" sounds perverted?

#5. I hate being sick, but at least I have an excuse for laying around all day, playing video games and getting drunk on NyQuil. Well on second thought, I guess being sick isn't all that bad.

#6. Wondering if there is such a food that wouldn't taste better deep fried. Mmmm heart attack.

#7. I think I threw my back out trying to dance to Flo Rida, quick someone call me an attorney, I'm going to sue! I'm too old to be trying to do the cabbage patch, and I have the triple D's to prove it, which are Dentures, Drool and Depends adult under garments.

#8. Have you ever spoken to someone who, no matter what the topic, has to one up you (aka 1 up'ers)? You say you did something, and they reply that they did the same thing, but just with a little more pizazz than you did. These people just don't do it once a conversation either, they do it all throughout, sometimes even going as far as to interrupt you to one up you. Am I alone in wanting to slap these people in the head with a loaf of stale Italian bread.

#9. I wouldn't mind going to jail if it's the all woman's Showtime after dark kind of jail, that I'm OK with, but if it's the Oz jail from HBO then I'm screwed...both literally and figuratively. I'll be sold for a pack of cigarettes and holding onto someones belt loop in no time. I'm not even going to try and front...I'm a complete wuss, as soft as Charmin, I have no doubt my shirt would be tied up in the front and I would be wearing lipstick in no time.

#10. There should be another political party, one for people who don't need to be spoon fed, who don't follow the flock and for people who think for themselves, we could call it the thinking party. We could have a brain for a symbol and our party color could be rainbow, just to annoy all those homophobes out there.

#11. Why do people buy one ply toilet paper, don't they know you'll end up using twice as much? If it's not at least two ply, it's not for me...anything less and you'll just end up with poop on your fingers.

#12. Am I the only one who finds it hard to order food from a fast food menu when I have a case of the giggles? Some of those names are hilarious, and saying it out loud to another human being makes it even harder. When I'm in one of those moods I just pretend I'm crazy, I walk in the restaurant wearing floaties and a bike helmet and just point to what I want, it makes it a lot easier.

#13. I'm a secure man, I don't mind my woman owning/using sex toys of the vibration kind, heck if I'm having a bad day and not able to fulfill her needs I'll even work it for her, well that is along as she's okay with me grabbing a Gatorade or a 5 Hour Energy before hand but when I see one that looks like it came from King Kong and moves like a jackhammer that's when I'll need to move on. I know I'm not going to be able to compare with that, heck Ron Jeremy couldn't even compare with that, so why even waste my time.

#14. I don't get the whole defecating on each other during sex thing, don't get me wrong I'm not trying judge anyone to each their own, if you're a freak like that have at it, be the best gosh darn freak-a-leak you can's just not for me. Honestly, if I was being intimate with a honey and all the sudden she squatted over me and started heave-hoing and I saw the brown snake pushing its way through the hole I would kick her so hard in the kiester that she would take off as if she was being ejected from the cockpit of a plane going down.

#15. Wouldn't it be cool if you could modify your car horn to spout out profanities instead of that way when someone cuts you off in traffic you could really let them know how you feel without straining your voice.

#16. If colleges had a difficulty setting like in video games, then community college would be the easy me I know from person experience, I am currently attending one. A good percentage of the students here should be riding the short bus to school and wearing helmets and water wings on their arms for protection. I feel my IQ dropping every moment I'm here, I even found myself drooling in my breakfast cereal this morning. Hey kids learn from my mistakes and stay in school and study your butt off so you can get into a real college.

#17. If common sense was currency, and your head a bank account, you'd be in the negative...with many, many NSF fees.

#18. What's the story with pants? When they're on younger people they're hanging off their butts, and when they're on the older people they're pulled up to their nipples, it would seem that as if only the middle-aged wear their pants were they should be. I guess how one wears their pants is a good indication as to where they are in their life.

#19. The art of the fart is that you don't shart when your butt cheeks come apart.

#20. A good way for the church to "spice" things up, and to attract more people, would be to start offering flavored body of Christ maybe Sour Cream and Christ or Jez-its (the holy alternative to Cheez-its).

#21. Is it considered drinking and driving if while playing the game LIFE you're pounding back a few brewskies?

#22. I think tub farting should be an Olympic event, believe it or not it's an art form and not just anyone can do it where it's meaningful and magical. 

#23. Thongs, what is up with this torture device and why do people purposely wear them? If I tried to put on a thong it would disappear, it would be eaten up by the rolls, never to return, so I just do what all fat people do with their thongs, I use them as a slingshot to shoot food into my mouth.

#24. People who dress their pets up in stupid little outfits just to prance them around and show them off, like as if they were a fashion accessory.

#25. Why do people pick their nose, scratch their ass, or adjust their junk where you can plainly see them doing so then go to touch you? We know where those hands have been and we know they are about as clean as Courtney Love on a good day, so please keep them to your damn self unless you want to draw back a nub.

Thanks for reading my random thoughts, it's just one of the side effects of being me, my brain wanders and I think of a lot of nonsense which has no real merit or purpose other than keeping me from sucking on the barrel of a twelve gauge or slapping stupid bitches right and left...which would be a full-time job in itself.


Tuesday, April 2, 2013

“Caucasians, Dangerous Hateful Slime, or Just Misrepresented”

I personally love stereotypes, mainly because they truly represent the minority, not the majority, but some people are just too ignorant to realize that.

Take honkies for example, or white people for you easily offended, some of us do have rhythm and some of us can dunk a basketball and believe it or not some of us do have big round plump asses. Now me, I must admit that I can’t dunk a basketball and I have absolutely no rhythm whatsoever but I do have an ass that could be used as a floatation device in the unlikely event of a water landing, or so I’ve heard, but I’m not the rule, I’m the exception.

We are also not this “man” that everyone keeps talking about, nor do we all get off with just a warning when we are pulled over by the fuzz, sure there are occasions when you can place one of us at the scene of the crime, where another one of us will play favorites just because we both glow in the dark, but that happens in all races not just ours.

We European Americans come in all different shapes, sizes and colors too, we are not all one in the same, even if we do all look alike to the other races. We are made up of rednecks, white-trash, holy rollers, preps and of course golfers, just to name a few. We come from all walks of life and don’t all serve the same high master.

We may all burn in the sun and we may all believe that Jesus is the same color as us even though he was of Middle Eastern decent, but we are not all the same person, actually it’s quite the opposite. We are a diverse group of individuals, some of us smarter than others, some of us more open-minded than others and of course, at times, some of us that are embarrassed to be one of us.

For all the other races out there in cyberspace, we crackers are not all bad, nor do we all hate other races and blame them for all our problems and issues finding a job, that is just a small group of us white people who unfortunately stand out the most, but only because they are the loudest not because they speak for the rest of us.

So the moral of the story is this, the next time you see one of us walking down the street, don’t crossover to the other side to avoid us, and please for God sakes don’t kick our asses, just come over and talk to us because who knows it may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


Thursday, March 28, 2013

“Will Work For a Job”

What is one to do for work nowadays…the supreme commanders…or um I’m mean the higher-ups tell us everything is looking better…that there is a light at the end of this utterly dark tunnel (aka anal cavity)…that jobs are falling from the sky in abundance like raindrops…but as we (the unemployed) know that isn’t the case.

I have looked for work within my field of expertise…and in the areas I have the most experience in…but was faced with more slamming doors than a Jehovah's Witness. All this rejection started making me feel like Snoopy…except for me it wasn’t “dogs” that weren’t allowed…it was work.

I have even applied for jobs that I could have easily done blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back and while standing on my head…but just like with an African American trying to gain entrance into the KKK…I was shot down and looked at like I had two heads.

I have applied for so many freaking jobs over the past few months that if I was paid for my time I would be sitting right next to the Donald up in Trump Towers firing people for ratings…thinking about it, maybe I should do it for a living…anyone want me to apply for a job for them.

I jump with excitement to my phone when it rings…like a child on Christmas Eve with hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there…but unfortunately my excitement quickly turns to dismay…when I realize it is not a job offer but  just another bill collector looking for money.

I have come to the conclusion that “work” doesn’t want me…like as if it was an ex-lover I cheated on and/or wronged in some way…I wouldn’t really be all that surprised if at some point in the upcoming days I’m served a restraining order from it.

I’m not giving up though…”work” is like the Russian in Rocky IV…and I’m Rocky…okay maybe I’m more like Rocky from “Rocky and Bullwinkle”…but nevertheless I still have the eye of the tiger baby.

Life isn’t like a box of chocolates…it’s like a buttplug…short, hard and stinks like ass…but don’t give up people it will get better and just remember you are not alone.


P.S. Republicans…please note that I am not on any kind of government assistance program…I’m just unemployed and actively looking for work…so please step down off your soapbox and put away your guns.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

“Inside My Head”

On the outside I look like any other normal cracker, someone who should belong to a country club, be playing polo and sporting a name like Biff, but on the inside is where the monster creeps.
Now don’t be alarmed, when I say monster I don’t mean an evil monster like Dracula, the Wolfman or Casey Anthony, but something more along the lines of Taz from Looney Tunes, wouldn’t hurt a fly and no one understands what the poop he is saying.
My mind is crazy, it needs to be put in a straightjacket and locked away in an insane asylum, never to see the light of day again. There is no method to its madness, it likes to laugh when others frown, it finds humor in things that others see as taboo it thinks up wild and crazy things out of the blue and for no reason whatsoever, it just doesn’t belong in our tight butt society.
I can’t control it either, it marches to the beat of its own drum, it’s like one of those obnoxious little Chihuahua dogs, speaking of which; I bet it would look fabo in the handbag of a hot blonde, not trying to be boastful I’m just being honest.
Let’s just say if my mind was a magazine it would be a cross between Mad and the National Enquirer with a little bit of Playboy thrown in too, just because you know, I am a man (Tim the Tool Man grunt) and it would come complete with crazy stories, off-the-wall humor and sticky pages.
Don’t get me wrong I do love the little booger but I also know what’s best for humanity, the world isn’t ready for him…it…Bob…I’m not really sure how to refer to it, I’ve talked it over with the voices in my head but we just couldn’t figure it out.
What shall I do, should I sniff some glue with the hopes it will screw up my brain and leave me all boring and humorless like so many other people walking around today, should I find the closest pool and leap in head first without looking beforehand, should I only watch PBS and CNN…what the poop is one to do.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

“I’m Fat…and I’m Not Proud”

I know I’m out of shape, well actually I’m in shape…in a round shape that is. 

I love to eat, which I’m sure anyone who sees me can tell by the t-shirt riding up on my belly exposing my muffin top. 

This it’s just a given with fat people and t-shirts, they’re going to ride up on you, kind of like a plumbers pants falling off his ass, it’s some kind of universal dress code.

I’m big, I need to lose weight,but I’m not “have to be moved by a forklift” big, not just yet anyways. 

I can still walk by myself, I don’t need one of those electric scooter thingies, but if I did mine would be pimped out…just saying. 

When your elbows and knees become dimples you know you have a problem, thankfully I’m not there yet but if I keep going the way I’m going I soon could be.

It’s not that I’m oblivious to this and/or pretend I’m “beautiful the way I am” like so many other fat people do, but sometimes I forget it. 

I tend to get a little complacent (or lazy) about how I look and what I need to do to rectify the situation. I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m in denial, I’m just stupid.

I don’t have a gene problem either, well that’s not entirely true because I do have a jean problem in a sense, I can’t fit into them that’s the problem. 

I do have an eating disorder though, it’s called fork to mouth, I can’t stop eating and that’s the disorder. 

If I could just put the stupid fork down I would be alright.

I recently had an experience that made me realize it was time to get back in shape, time to lose all the extra weight I have been carrying around with me, get rid of my spare (monster truck) tire.

Some friends were in town and wanted to ride the go karts. I tried to explain to them that when I got they would just be karts, they wouldn’t be going anywhere. 

Things went ahead as planned, at least for them, they were all racing around the track in go karts having a blast and I was sitting off to the side watching all the fun because I couldn’t comfortably fit into them.

Now I'm sure I could have wedged myself in the seat if I tried hard enough, made myself look like about ten pounds of garbage in a five pound bag. 

I also would have to be greased just to get out, but I decided against it to save myself some embarrassment…and to save the wheels on the kart from popping off like the buttons on my pants.

I’m not feeling sorry for myself and I’m not trying to blame someone or something else for my weight issues. 

No one put a gun to my head and told me to eat all the junk I’ve been eating, and to be honest if there was a gun involved, and if it happened to be dipped in chocolate and deep fried I would have probably eaten that too. 

I tell you who I do feel sorry for though, and that is my pallbearers because they are going to have their hands full (literally) with me if I don’t lose this weight.

I must let you go now so I can get off the computer and go do some exercise before it’s too late, for me and for anyone around me if I happen to fall down.


Monday, March 18, 2013

"Women, the Weaker Sex, I Think Not."

Women…not only are they fun to look at and to play naked wrestling with…but they are indeed the stronger sex.

Now for all the boobs out there (pardon the pun)…and I’m not talking about a woman’s chest here, but the stupid mindless buffoons who can’t put together a complete thought without the help of a Magic 8 Ball…I’m not just referring to physical strength but the overall complete package.

Take for example child birth…men couldn’t do that…I mean we cry like babies at the first sign of a cold.  Think about it…we all know God is no fool…that’s why he had Eve make Adam eat the apple…it wasn’t to “curse” women because he knew they could handle child birth…he just didn’t want men to endure it because he knew all we would do is whine about it.

Women also run the world…I mean who else but a woman could jump on the pole (the one at the strip club not the one in the pants…get your mind out of the gutter) and have men throw money at them like confetti in Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Let me try to make it rain while dancing on the pole…I would go to throw my legs up around it and end up sliding down and falling flat on my back right on the stage.

Fame…Look at Monica Lewinsky all she had to do was give the president a Ben and Jerry’s to become famous, now a man on the other hand has to try to shoot the president before anyone would remember his name. I can guarantee that more people know who Monica Lewinsky is then know who John Hinckley, Jr. is.

Advertising…when companies need to sell their product…who do they call on…a bunch of half-naked hot chicks that’s who…and us like a bunch of mindless sheep run out and buy what they’re selling. Stupid Axe body sprays…that crap doesn’t bring the women running…at least that’s what a friend told me anyway.

The bottom-line is this, woman are by far the stronger (for the most part anyway) are a bunch of punks...most of us could never go through what woman have to endure without crying like a newborn baby…it takes more than muscles to be strong...just saying.


Friday, March 8, 2013

“Toilet Troubles”

What is one to do…when after dropping the kids off at a public pool (using a public toilet) they either leave debris (aka skid marks) in the bowl or clog the toilet…and there is no toilet brush and/or plunger available to them?
Do you just run out of the restroom and hope no one sees you, maybe even go as far as to wrap your head in one of those toilet seat covers like some kind of make shift mask with the hopes of concealing your identity…of course using one that isn’t already used…unless that is your thing, then have at it.    
I recently found myself in a situation such as this…
After using a public toilet I noticed I left some chocolate on the bottom of the bowl and since there was no toilet brush in sight I had to come up with a plan to get rid of my mess. I was also in one of those single person public restrooms with people outside the door waiting to get in, so I knew I couldn’t just leave it without the risk of being called out and even humiliated.
I figured that maybe by flushing more toilet paper down the crapper it would eventually knock the debris loose so it would flush down, getting rid of all the evidence of my crime…all that is except for the nasty stink that lingered behind.
I must have spent about an hour or so tossing in toilet paper and flushing the commode with the hopes that it would clean up the mess I left so I could walk out proudly with my head held high. The whole time people were knocking on the door and wondering what was taking me so long…I would tell them I was having explosive diarrhea and scream out in pain to scare them off.
I was having no luck scaring off the crowd outside the bathroom or getting rid of the brown smears on the bottom of the bowl, so just like what any other logical thinking person would do when in a situation like my own; I started throwing more toilet paper in the bowl…I figured the more toilet paper the better my chances were.
I started balling it up and flinging it in the toilet like a major league pitcher putting one over the plate and with just as much speed and accuracy…then it happened. I flushed the toilet and instead of the water going down it started rising, it rose so high that it started coming over the bowl...and needless to say I started freaking out.
Not wanting to get my feet wet…and all poopied…I jumped on to the counter and sat there like a gargoyle atop a castle while trying to figure out my next move.
Now with the water flowing out of the bowl and onto the floor…like a brown waterfall…it started saturating the floor and moving closer to the bathroom door.
I knew that there was now no way out, I was going to be found out if I stayed in there any longer, so I wrapped a toilet seat cover around my head…threw open the bathroom door…and ran out of the establishment like as if the police were after me…never to return.