Thursday, December 12, 2013

“A Relationship Maker or Breaker”

When you get into a new relationship certain things happen, you will have many firsts, some that will fade in time like a bad tattoo, and others that will get better with age like a fine wine.

There are some “firsts” however that nobody in the relationship wants to initiate, and not because it won’t feel good, but rather because you don’t know how well it will be received by the other.

You know when it happens that moment will be awkward, you know it will be uncomfortable, but if you ever hope to evolve as a couple you know sooner or later it needs to happen.

Now I’m not talking about the first kiss, the first “I love you” or even the first time you two engage in whoopie, I’m talking about the couple’s first fart, which if the timing is right will be magical and it will be a moment to remember forever.

The reason why the first fart is so important is because it can make or break a relationship, done at the wrong time and your gross and not the right one, done at the right time you're cute and a keeper…you’re a little stinker. 
All the glitz and glamour will fade the longer you’re in a relationship, but passing gas with the person you love never gets old, it sparks emotion, it gives you a sense of closeness and strengthens the bond you share as a couple.

No matter how it’s delivered or who dealt it, in the end both parties will know it’s a sign of true love, a term of endearment.

Sure it will smell fowl, the fragrance all depending on what the farter ate throughout the day, but that warm embrace will get you through many cold nights and linger as a constant reminder of how much you’re loved.

That warm and fuzzy feeling associated with love never really goes away, it just moves from the heart and into the stomach, and eventually out the anus as an expression of love and compassion.

When people talk about the power of love, well they’re not referring to those sweet little nothings that people do to seem cute and adorable, sure those things are nice, but they won’t keep you together for the long haul.

Being able to play the fart game with the one you love will keep you going strong, being able to stay with someone knowing how bad their ass stinks, shows that your relationship can withstand whatever is thrown at it.

So the next time you’re lucky enough to smell that nasty ass gas from that special someone, appreciate it and enjoy that lovely aroma to the fullest, because there are some people out there who have nobody and are left cutting the cheese all by their lonesome.


Wednesday, December 4, 2013

“The Special of the Day: The Seven Deadly Sins"

I know a place, where on any given day; one could be guilty of all of the seven deadly sins, and I’m not talking about some seedy underbelly where the devil (Mr. Satan if you’re nasty) parties either, but rather your everyday typical American restaurant.

Here is why dining out at your favorite restaurant could land you a one way ticket straight to hell, at least according to those who believe in these kinds of things. 

Call ahead, for reservations in HELL!

First we have wrath… 

Which I’m sure many of you have faced when dining out at one time or another. Whether it was because they made your meal wrong, kept you waiting too long for your troth (aka table) and/or because your waiter wasn’t living up to your expectations, nevertheless you were getting down with some good old fashioned wrath as a result of it.  

Second is greed

Have you ever said the phrase, “are you going to eat that” and/or complained about the portion size you received while you were out, if so you are one greedy bastard? When you’re a party of one, and your bill is more than most people’s car payments you have issues. You always want more, you are never happy with what you have; and because of that you outta be ashamed of yourself…now please pass the butter.

Third is sloth… 

Having a person bring the food/drink to you, and not getting up yourself to get it would be a good indication that you are guilty of sloth. Also, after eating enough food to feed a small village you make the statement, “now I need a nap”, which is just another indication that you are guilty of sloth, not hating just saying. 

Fourth is pride… 

Have you ever felt that you were too good to eat off of the value menu and/or in a particular restaurant, but you begrudgingly did because that’s where everyone else was eating, the whole time felt as if the establishment and/or the other patrons were beneath you, if so you are one prideful son of a bitch. Have you ever bragged about how much you could eat, about how much grub you could fit into your piehole in one sitting, then between your pride and your gut it’s amazing that you could even fit out the door.  

Fifth is lust… 

Have you ever looked at someone else’s food while in a restaurant and started salivating, dreamt of eating that food yourself and/or possibly even doing other naughty things to it, well then you are one lustful prick. Have you ever stared at a menu like a young boy would stare at the chicks in their favorite anime, then you are more lustful than a Catholic priest at an all boy slumber party.

Sixth is envy

Have you ever seen someone drinking/eating something that you couldn’t afford and/or drink/eat for health reasons, but still desired it and craved what they had, well then welcome to envy you envious sum beach. Have you ever looked at someone with hate (and massive amounts of cholesterol) in your heart because they were getting down with a triple decker bacon cheese burger and you only had a double decker, then not only is the lettuce that you so casually tossed aside (because who needs that crap messing up our burgers) green but so is the monster standing by your side…and I don’t mean the Frankenstein.

Seventh is gluttony

If you ever ate at a restaurant with the words “all you can eat” and/or ate so much that you nearly split your pants you are one gluttonous pig (oink oink mutha fugger). When you need two seats for your ass and you can’t fit into a booth because of your belly is in the way, then it’s safe to say that you like to clean your plate…and the plates of others around you. If you have more than one plate around you at any time during the meal and/or on a second serving or higher, then you my friend are a glutton. If your meal ends with the phrase, “Help, I’ve fallen and can’t get upi”, your ass doesn’t need Life Alert, you need a forklift and lipper zipper.

Waiter, check please!

I’m not trying to call anyone out, because trust me based on this list I am one sinful individual myself! I just think it’s funny how a night eating out could land you in eternal damnation.  Forget homosexuality, murder and abortion, dining out is the true gangsta of sin!

No wonder people pray before they eat, it’s not to give thanks for the food as we were lead to believe, but more so to ask God for forgiveness before we get our sin on. Realistically we should be praying before and after our meals, just to be on the safe side.

Eat, Drink and be sinful.


Thursday, November 28, 2013

“Ice Ice Baby”

I live in Florida where it is normally hotter than Satan’s armpit, not always the most pleasant that is for sure, but a hell of a lot better than freezing my nuggets off.

We recently had a cold front roll in, and as much as I enjoy a reprieve from the sweltering heat, I don’t enjoy weather so cold it makes my nipples hard enough to cut glass.

I like it chilled and breezy like as if I was in a Jimmy Buffet song, not too cold or too hot, kind of in-between like the cream in a delicious Oreo cookie.

Okay now besides being a complete wuss, there’s another reason I don’t like the cold, and that is because I’m an early morning pooper, and who in their right mind likes to sit on a cold toilet seat…especially when you have to go.

Now while the cold front is in town, I have to get up a few minutes earlier than normal so I can prepare for business, I have to make sure my booty isn’t going to pucker up like as if it just ate something sour and not be able to deliver the goods as a result of the chilled commode.

So I bust out the blow dryer and warm up the seat, that way when my cheeks hit the bowl it’s like sitting on a nice warm Krispy Kreme donut rather than frozen hamburger patty, it makes things so much easier.

One would think that with technology as it is that there would be a way to warm the seat before even getting out of bed, especially in those areas with horrible winters.

For gosh darn sakes (sorry about the harsh language) we could start a car with a little remote that we keep on our keychain, so why can’t we have something similar for the toilet seat?

Think about it, something like this would benefit so many kiesters across the globe, because not only is a frosty latrine uncomfortable for your bottom, but you also run the risk of getting frostbite on your hiney, and who wants that.

Cold seats could cause other problems too, like for example what if someone half-asleep went to sit on one completely oblivious to the fact that it was frosted like a beer mug, shocked as a result and jumped of the seat and in the process pulled something in their back.

Now they would be lying on the floor, face down ass up, in agonizing pain and doing their best to clinch their cheeks together so they didn’t accidently let any fudge squeeze out of their hole…so not a pretty site.

Forget marijuana, frigid bowls are more harmful than we all thought, and something needs to be done to rectify this, if not by means of technology then at least have a temperature gauge on the bowl so we know when it’s safe to go.


Monday, November 18, 2013

“MJM's Random Thoughts: Perverted Edition”

Just as the title states, this is a collection of my random thoughts when it comes to sex and all things perverted. 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. 
Random Thoughts...
Remember when masturbation was easy, all you needed was the underwear catalog from your local newspaper and you were good to go.
Sometimes you didn't even need any material at all; your little buddy would stand at attention for no reason whatsoever, just begging for you to give him the Heimlich maneuver so he can spit up whatever it was he was choking on.

Now however you need to prepare, you need to set the mood just right, otherwise you are just trying to start a car with no gas…it’s just not going to happen.

When I was younger just wearing loose pants on a windy day would make my junk a happy camper, now however, if everything is not done just right I’m not going to get any satisfaction…just a sore wrist and weenie burn.


I know having two or more women in the sack at one time is supposed to be every man’s fantasy, but I can honestly tell you it is not mine, not in any which way shape or form.

I can barely take care of one woman, and by barely I mean not at all, so why the heck would I want to add more to the mix, that’s like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach at the same time…it’s just not happening.

Not only that, the woman would now have a witness to her claims that I was a tiny dick two pump chump, and I can’t have that.

At least if it’s just me and her in the mix, when she calls me out in front of an crowd (which they always do), I can deny it and just claim she’s cray-cray, but if she has backup I’m pretty much screwed.

Crazy Fetishes:

I’m not trying to call anyone out here, but I just can’t get into all that crazy stuff, it’s just not my thing.

I know I’m boring, but I’m okay with that, because I like my sex safe and predictable.

I don’t like surprises; I don’t like to play guessing games when I am buck naked in the dark with my hiney hole exposed.

You can keep all the crazy costumes, the bodily fluids and the torture devices, I’m perfectly fine keeping things plain and uninteresting.

Beavis and Butt-head Mentality:

What I mean by this is the whole, “They said (blank) huh huh” thought process.

I know admitting to this makes me seem like a complete immature tard, but what can I say, I’m all about the honestly.

Whenever I hear something that sounds remotely sexual I start laughing like a hyena on goofy gas.

Think what you will of me, but I know I’m not the only one who does this, maybe not so much the woman, but the men for sure.


Thursday, November 14, 2013

"The Insane Asylum Has a Guest Today...Mr. Gordon Rupe"

My guest writer comes to us from the land of Bubblews…and he is freaking awesome! After you read what he has to say here, go visit him there, and show him some mad love.

I love his work; he always has something interesting and amusing to say. I also admire the fact that he is not afraid to speak his mind and he does so in such a manner that you will keep you entertained throughout and anticipating what comes next.

Please welcome Gordon Rupe to The Insane Asylum and show him that us crazies can get a party started just as good, or even better, than any other group out there in cyberspace.  


Now on to the show...

"The IQ of a Carrot Stick (or Lower)"

Ah, the golden age of Television. When writers knew they were writers and stars knew they were stars and the two never met.

In these days and times it seems anyone can be a writer….EVEN ME!

We are here to talk about Suzanne Somers. At the beginning of the month, she went on a tear about how she had some bright idea.

Somers, 67, is known for her roles on ‘Three’s Company’, ‘She’s The Sheriff’ and ‘Step by Step’.

Somers role on ‘Three’s Company’ was simple, she played a dumb blonde. I use the word ‘played’ very loosely.

Anyhow, she got this idea that there needs to be a new version of the show and it needs to star her and John Ritter’s son, Jason.

In Somers mind,  "...Jack and Chrissy got married and they had Jason [Ritter]. It is the first acting idea I've had that has made my heart flutter."

What a fuckin moron.

Trying to be diplomatic, Jason Ritter, 33, had a short and sweet reply - "It's very sweet."

Let’s break this down. John Ritter was on ‘Three’s Company’ from 1976-1984 when it ended, and then on its other incarnation in 1984, ‘Three’s a Crowd’, that only lasted a year. Ritter was the star of the very popular show ‘8 Simple Rules For Dating My Teenage Daughter’ at the time of his sudden and untimely death in 2004, that show co-stared Katy Segal who went on to do the very popular show ‘Sons of Anarchy’ and the show also spawned Kelly Cuoco who is known for her role as ‘Penny’ on ‘The Big Bang Theory’, after Ritter’s death, the shows name was changed to ‘8 simple rules’ and lasted only a year afterwards.

Joyce DeWitt, who was also on ‘Three’s Company’ from 1976 to 1984, went on to do bit parts in shows like ‘The Love Boat’ and the ever forgettable movie,
‘Airplane: The Sequel’ before fading into obscurity.

Suzanne ‘Thigh-master’ Somers has had a career in Hollywood that can only be described as laughable. Somers WAS NOT in the original cast for ‘Three’s Company’ and she joined the show in 1977 and only lasted until 1981.
The only other true hit she had was ‘Step by Step’ with former ‘Dallas’ star,
Patrick Duffy. That show lasted for 7 years.

Earlier I said I used the term ‘played’ loosely in regards to her role as a dumb blonde and this is why.

Earlier this month she had a chat with the Wall Street Journal, and I have no idea why…Any who, she went on about how Obamacare AKA the Affordable Medical Act is a “Ponzi scheme”….Really? She is throwing stones? Isn’t she the one who sold people hunks of medal to put between their legs and said they could lose weigh doing so….?

Somers said, "Boomers are smart. They see the train wreck coming...most I speak with think the Affordable Care Act is a greater Ponzi scheme than that pulled off by Bernie Madoff."

Like she has any idea who Madoff is….come on, don’t…just don’t.

So, now she wants to act like she knows what she is talking about and then come up with an idea like the new three’s company….

Writers are meant to write, actors are meant to act. Idiots are meant to amuse.

Don’t believe me? Then I have two words for you: Sarah Palin

Thanks to Mike for this opportunity to pollute his blog with the thoughts of this madman!

My Private Idaho - My Article Archive:



Cast and info
Three's company

Photo Credit:

“Rep Your State”

I live in a state where a good portion of the people here are fat, and by fat I don’t mean hip and/or cool, but rather overweight and a digit or two shy of having their own zip codes.

I live in a state where a good portion of the people here are lazy, they don’t move and/or do anything physical unless they have wheels under their asses and/or a gaggle of bastard kids who do their bidding like as if they were trained circus monkeys.

I live in a state where a good portion of the people here are opinionated, they will let you know how they feel without you even having to ask them, and of course you are entitled to have your own opinion, but just as long as it coincides with theirs.

I live in a state where a good portion of the people here are redneck, the whole no shoes, so shirt no service rule doesn't exist, and where people have more guns than they do teeth and where the Rebel flag flies high and proud.

I live in a state where a good portion of the people here are ignorant, they will let a door slam in your face when you are literally right behind them, they will bump into you in the store without saying excuse me and they will cut you off in traffic because you are only doing the speed limit.

I live in a state where a good portion of the people here are dumb, they are so dumb it takes them 2 hours to watch 60 Minutes, they are so dumb that they got fired from the M&M factory for throwing out all the “W”s and finally they are so dumb because they really believed all that hanging chad nonsense during the 2000 United States presidential election.

I live in a state where a good portion of the people here are assholes, they will make your life miserable, they will make it a living hell and they will be smiling and enjoying themselves they whole time while doing so.

Okay, we established that the state in which I live in is full of fat, lazy, opinionated, redneck, ignorant, dumb, assholes…so where pray tell do I live, well good old crappy Florida of course.

I know what you’re thinking, if Florida is that bad why don’t I just pick up and leave, well unfortunately I am stuck here, as things stand right at the moment I have no choice but to stay put and make the best of things.

So now you know that Florida is actually an acronym, and now you know exactly what it stands for, well unless you missed that part, and then just forget I said anything.


Wednesday, November 6, 2013

“The Dangers of Rap Music”

Remember when rap music used to be safe, and when I say safe I don’t mean for the rappers themselves, I mean for us crackers who actually enjoy it.

If those fools want to shoot it out like as if they were in the Wild West then have at it, you can keep the bullets and all that West coast/East coast crap, I just want to hear those bumping jams that make all the chick’s asses clap.

Speaking of the West coast/East coast crap, we also have to watch out for those crazy hand signs too, which by the way when I first saw it in a video was impressed because I thought they were providing sign language for the hearing impaired.

It wasn’t until later that I found out they were throwing up “gang signs” if you will, for their respective hoods and I didn’t want to be caught throwing up the wrong sign, that is if I could ever figure out how to do in the first place, because when I tried I looked like I was having a seizure.  

Back in the day we white people could actually sing-along to a rap song without feeling anxious because we may accidently sing the wrong thing, you know the infamous N word the one that rhymes with trigger…which is what would be pulled if we’re not careful.

When we are at a gathering and a rap song starts we have to be really cautious, especially if we’re surrounded by African Americans, because all eyes will be on the cream in the Oreo if you know what I mean, to see if we behave or not.

We could always just pretend that we don’t like rap music and claim to be a fan of another genre, but just not country because then the next thing we know we’re Mark Fuhrman in the O.J. trial, so it has to be something stereotypically white but not redneck white, like heavy metal.  

We could also just try to sing the song, making sure to omit the naughty words, sure we would sound like a cellphone with poor reception, but it would be worth it to not get our wigs split and branded a racist just for singing a song.

That’s why I like old school rap, it was fun and carefree, it didn’t matter what the color your skin was, you were safe to sing-along and even breakdance if you were so skilled enough.

Being white and liking rap music back in the day also gave us some street cred, not a whole lot but just enough to feel cool, you truly understood how Fonzy felt around all those L 7’s (that’s squares for you lame-os) on Happy Days when you and your crew started bumping some LL Cool J.

See at first us honkies didn’t know we were allowed in the rap club, we were worried it would be like Jay Z trying to join the KKK, but then along came the Beastie Boys and showed us that this club was open to everybody, regardless of skin color and/or if they had rhythm or not.

The bottom-line is this; sure I have to watch my back when getting down with some rap, I have to be aware of what words I say and the hand signs I throw up while getting jiggy with it, but I wouldn’t change it for the world because rap kicks ass.

And for the record, just because I’m white doesn’t mean I only listen to and/or can relate to “wrap” music, I do enjoy myself some N.W.A. and 2 Pac just to name a few.