Merry Christmas, Baby!

December 25, 2009

I wanted to take a moment to wish everyone a merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus, Kwanzaa, or whatever else you have going on in your world.

I happen to be sick at the moment and have felt miserable for the last couple of days. Still, spending Christmas morning with my family and seeing them happy brought me great joy.

Of course I also realize that the holidays can be painful for some people. For what it is worth, I share some of your pain and you need to always remember that none of us are ever truly alone. Our humanity binds us and may be the only useful thing that man has to offer.

I was hoping that Salma Hayek would be wrapped under my tree or at least the newly available Susan Sarandon. Sadly, no such luck. Probably for the better since I am not in shape to have much of a party in my pants.

The medication wants me to tell you that I appreciate all of you and thank you for your friendship and the camaraderie we share through the InterWeb. However, my Grinch-like heart wants nothing to do with such pansy-ass, pussified comments. So I leave you to read between the lines and reach your own conclusions.

I must leave now as the monkey pox or whatever I have is kicking my ass. Love, kisses, and donkey punches from TL.

Stop Getting Pregnant In Iraq

December 23, 2009

How many times do female US military members need to be told this message? Apparently, 4 more women have become pregnant while serving in Iraq. How is this possible? I realize that a penis and vagina were probably involved but that is not my point.

My understanding is that there are two types of females allowed in combat zones. The first, and most obvious group, is the lesbian brigade. These “ladies” make excellent soldiers because their innate hatred for men makes them want to kill the enemy all day long.

The second type of woman is the “lipstick” soldier. This woman’s main role is to service her fellow service men. (And occasional lesbian). However, unlike the rest of the free world, they are NOT allowed to use their hoo-hoo’s in a combat zone. There are approximately 76 other ways they can satisfy their male counterparts and this is what they should be doing…at least several times a day.

What really agitates me is that these women suck these poor guys in with their alluring hoo-hoo’s and make them do the deed with them. Then, the guy also gets in trouble for knocking the woman up. What kind of America am I living in? It’s somehow his fault because she didn’t cleanse herself with a shook up Coke can right after intercourse? That’s ridiculous.

Women were specifically allowed in the military to encourage the gays to stay out. It is written in the Constitution. They were supposed to keep the men from getting too tense so they could focus on the job at hand and aim straight. Men that haven’t had sex get all shaky and start spending a ridiculous amount of time trying to have sex with inanimate objects. They also forget what their original mission was.

Please female soldiers of Iraq. Quit forcing men to have sex with you. And if you simply must do it, do it in a way where you can’t get pregnant. Like where you are on top or he is behind you. I am surprised they don’t cover this stuff in basic training.

Guys, if you simply must have regular sex with a female cohort, stick to the large gals. Many times they won’t know that they are pregnant until like 7 months in and, by then, you will be long gone. Sure, little Johnny won’t have a daddy but war is hell.

Lastly, to completely avoid this whole problem, seek out small to medium sized animals. Bigger than a breadbox but smaller than a Toyota. No, not to have sex with you stupid perv but to have as a pet so you can kill time until you come home safe and sound. Every last one of you.

I know some of these ladies are hot but just say no!

Jesus Shoots Santa In Apparent Turf War

December 21, 2009

Well, you knew it was going to eventually happen. You knew that at some point Jesus was going to become sick and tired of Santa stealing all of his thunder over the Christmas holiday.

It seems the two icons crossed paths recently in Nipomo, CA when things turned ugly. I guess words were exchanged and Jesus, without a word of warning, pulled out a double barreled shotgun. The photo below shows the results of the confrontation. (Warning – this is a graphic photo).

Even worse, although you can’t see it in the photo, Jesus also took out Rudolph with a shot to the head and threw his lifeless body across the hood of a nearby pickup truck. Jesus was seen fleeing the scene in a white robe and sandals but his current whereabouts is unknown.

Actually, the photo is a work of “art” put together by Ron Lake. He says he created the piece to denunciate the commercialization of Christmas. Some of Ron’s neighbors are not happy with the gun toting Jesus and dead Santa but, so far, the police say they can’t do anything because it is on private property.

This got me thinking about such a matchup. Personally, due to Santa’s considerable girth, I think he could take Jesus in a one on one free for all. Jesus would definitely have the speed advantage but once Santa got Jesus on the ground, it would be over. Plus, Jesus would almost assuredly play the “God’s my dad” card to make Santa let him up.

I wasn’t feeling very Christmas like lately but this story seems to have helped.

  Jesus pops a cap into Santa’s ass

Christmas Etiquette And Illegitimate Children

December 19, 2009

Invariably at this time of year, questions come up about what kind of gift or present is appropriate for various people. For instance, should you give your letter carrier or trash collecting guy some cash? These are serious questions but that’s not what I want to talk about.

I want to talk about how to deal with… how should I say it?…illegitimate children. Over the years, I have collected a fair amount of “extra” children and always feel compelled to do something special for them for Christmas.

Let me be clear, I am not a deadbeat dad. I know most of these kids names and roughly what years they were born. There is Hermann, Mary, Shaniqua, Consuelo, Bubba, Ishmael (I was going through a Bob Dylan phase), Cadillac, and Stumpy. Stumpy was actually born with the name Delbert but since he has no feet, we call him Stumpy. (Apparently, his condition may be related to the fact that I slept with my 1st cousin. Man, was she hot).

Each year, I try to take care of these kids and send them gifts. The older ones are easy to shop for. Beer and tobacco products pretty much take care of them. As for the younger ones under 12, well, it gets a little more complicated. They need individual gifts like air rifles for the boys and mini stripper poles for the girls. (So they can grow up to be just like their mamas).

Another problem I have is how to sign the attached gift tag. Most of these kids have had several dads so just writing “dad” leaves them hopelessly confused. Sometimes I write “TL” but I have shared many of the same women with Tommy Lee and you can see how that is an issue. Sometimes I write “banged your mama in ’74” but I have trouble keeping the dates in order.

Now, before you judge me and tell me what a horrible person I am, know that I also have had 7 or 8 dads. So it should be no surprise that I learned to “share my love” at a young age with a variety of women. Look, if I had more room in my trailer, I might even would let some of these young ‘uns live with me but the lack of room makes it impossible. However, I faithfully play my lucky lotto number and when I hit it big these kids are going to share the wealth with me. (Except Stumpy. Honestly, I just can’t look at that kid without feeling a little queasy).

However, until the lucky lotto day comes, or they all end up in a federal penitentiary, I will keep trying to do the right thing by my children. If any of you that have used the Dewey Decimal system or are good with numbers and letters can help me with a better system to deliver these presents, I would appreciate hearing about it. Thanks, TL

Here’s a cute picture of me and little Hermann playing.

My Sleep Study Experience

December 17, 2009

As most of you know, I am tired all of the time. I had a bunch of tests done and they all came back normal. The only other suggestion the doctor had was to do a sleep study and see if I had sleep apnea. I figured why not and scheduled it.

The brochure describes the sleep room as kind of like a hotel room. This was pretty much true although it seemed to have a bit of a porn vibe to it. Still, it seemed fine and I was only going to be there for one night.

The nurse was very nice and said I should “prepare for bed” and she would be in to hook me up to the electrodes or whatever it is. I brushed my teeth, used the bathroom and undressed for bed. I sat in a chair waiting for her return. When she came in she seemed kind of perplexed. “Sir, where are your clothes?” I told her I sleep commando cause my guys don’t like to be all restrained and bunched up. It makes them feel claustrophobic. She said this wouldn’t work and left the room. Shortly thereafter, she brought me some scrubs to sleep in…which I did.

She hooked up a bunch of wires to my head and legs. I asked if maybe I could watch some pay-per-view before going to sleep but she said they didn’t have any. (What kind of hotel doesn’t have PPV?) Anyway, she shuts off all the lights and leaves the room. She said she would speak to me through the intercom in a few minutes.

As I lay in the dark, a voice comes over the intercom that sounds like a bad connection from a fast food joint. “Sir, are you bllgggg fdldjhskj skhdd?” I didn’t understand a damned thing she said. After awhile, she seemed to take the microphone out of her mouth and I could understand her. She told me a few things and then said that was it. I should go to sleep.

I must have laid there for like 2 hours wide awake. Normally, when I can’t sleep I might just decide to rub one of. However, there are cameras in the room so I had to be discrete. I went for it anyway and as I was starting to build some momentum, the voice from nowhere says, “Sir, what are you doing?” Quickly, I responded, “I think I have crabs. I am itching like crazy”. In a kind of perturbed voice, she says, “Well, quit it”. So, my fantasy of Sarah was quickly squelched and I finally fell asleep.

Naturally, I woke up several times in the night. I had pretty bad gas but since the room had a microphone in it, I didn’t want to just let one rip. I have some class, you know. So I would try to hold my butt cheeks real tight together so it wouldn’t make that plfffftttt noise. Instead, it sounded like someone was slowly letting the air out of a balloon. A real high pitched, whining sound. And, because so much air needed to come out, it lasted like 5 minutes. She kept saying, “Sir, are you ok?” but I faked asleep. In retrospect, the fact that I was hooked up to 100 electrodes that told her I was NOT asleep probably gave me away but screw it.

In the morning, she just barged in and told me to get up. I had kicked off the covers during the night and I think my junk was hanging out but I didn’t care. I felt like crap and my nurse did not like my suggestion of me needing a sponge bath. Again, I must have been in the worst hospital ever.

My results will not be ready for 2 more months so, in the meantime, I just have to continue to be tired. Art suggested I stop being fat (thanks Art) but I don’t have any other good ideas. Let me know if you think of anything. Yours sleepily, TL

The Nativity…As I Understand It

December 15, 2009

I have been listening to people talk about “The Nativity” or birth of Christ in bits and pieces and have been trying to put the story together so I understand it. It is pretty complicated but here is what I think happened.

Joseph and Mary were a young couple living in the suburbs. Mary “accidentally” got pregnant but not by Joseph. The way they described it was “the immaculate conception”. Most immaculate conceptions happen in the back seat of a Chevy or in the bedroom of your boyfriend’s parents who are away on vacation. But, hey, I am not going to judge.  

Anyway, one day the King of the land told everyone to go back to their home cities so he could count them and figure out how much taxes he should be collecting. (They didn’t have a census bureau back then). Being the good lemmings that they were, all of the people hit the road. Joseph and Mary had a trip of about 70 miles. By this time, she was ready to give birth at anytime. Fortunately, they had a donkey for her to ride.

Just as they get to the town where Joe’s family lives, Mary goes into labor. They tried to get a room at a Red Roof Inn but it was full. However, the manager said they had a barn in back they could stay in. Joe and Mary went back to the barn and she had the baby. They wrapped it up and put it on some hay in a pig trough.

I have a real problem with this part of the story. What kind of business is going to take on the liability of letting some pregnant, broke woman stay on their property? What if something had happened to the baby? Can you imagine the lawsuit? Plus, what kind of hotel would turn away a pregnant woman in the middle of winter. After all, this is the end of December…it’s freezing out.

Anyway, when the baby is born, they name him Tito. Mary doesn’t like it and they change the name to Jesus. At this time an angel appears and tells them this is the Son of God. Also, a huge star pops up in the sky that will serve as a beacon for people to show up and bring baby shower gifts.

It would seem the Angel does not have much in the way of power or he would have smote the innkeeper for making Jesus sleep in the barn. Plus, he would have got out a magic carpet and drove the family to Joe’s parent’s house so they could get out of the cold.

Far away, 3 guys looked up and saw the star. The story goes that they followed it until they found Jesus. At this point, they gave him a bunch of stuff that babies need like gold and myrrh. (I guess an Elmo doll was out of the question).

This must have been some star. Hey, I know a really big star, it’s called the sun. As an exercise, I want you to follow it until you get to Wichita. Let me know how that works out for you. If the story mentioned a map or Garmin, I might have found it a little easier to believe.

As near as I can tell, that’s the end of the story. They hang out in the manger for awhile and then go to wherever they were going in the first place like nothing ever happened. The rich guys went away, as did the star and angel. Joseph would teach Jesus to be a carpenter just as he was. The fact that he only owned a donkey tends to make me think he wasn’t much of a craftsman. However, I think he sews together a Technicolor dream coat later in life so maybe he just started with the wrong vocation.

For those of you with limited knowledge of the Bible, I hope I was able to clear things up for you. If you are still confused, have a few drinks and read it again. I think it reads better when you are a little lubed up.

I Have Had An Epiphany About Religion

December 13, 2009

I don’t dislike religion, I dislike the people that believe in religion. And while this may seem like a small point, it is not. As I read the words of the icons of religion, I kind of nod my head and think, “these are not unreasonable thoughts and, if implemented correctly, would probably lead to a better world”.

Then, of course, man comes into the picture and completely screws the whole thing up. Man decides to “interpret” the words of the great religious leaders of our time and that is when all hell breaks loose.

Take this simple quote. “For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through him”. Pretty straightforward, no?

Except that somehow, “everyone” soon became a much smaller group. “Everyone” quickly became “those who think in the same way I do”. You believe in Jesus but are pro-choice? You are not everyone. You are gay? Again, not everyone. And the list gets smaller and smaller as the fractions multiply. Are you a liberal? Then you are not everyone. Fornicating with the neighbors wife? Hey…no one’s perfect. You can still be in the club.

And, remarkably, the second line even addresses this hypocrisy. God specifically told Jesus not to judge the world but to save it. Yet man spends the vast majority of his time judging. If Jesus was told not to do it, who the hell is man to do it?

Here is my other beef. I have spent years of my life being open to the concept that I don’t know very much. So, much of my time is spent trying to learn. Religious folks, in general, seem to spend little time trying to learn outside of their comfortable parameters. Distressingly, atheists have started taking the same approach. In essence, the argument is “I’m right and you are not”. At this point both sides cover their ears and make “nah, nah, nah”, noises so they can’t hear the other side. It is a scene straight out of kindergarten.

This would all seem to stem from ego and insecurity. We all have huge egos and, particularly in America, seem to be afraid of every damned thing. From the Y2K scare, to Anthrax, to H1N1, to Mexicans, to losing our gun rights, we walk around in a state of panic all of the time. The only solace we have is getting with like minded thinkers so we can stroke each other into feeling better. (Normally, I am for stroking but not this kind).

Being inquisitive and saying “I don’t know” is for pussies and weaklings. Well then strap a tampon on me because I am a giant pussy. I don’t know hardly anything but I enjoy learning about new ideas and concepts. Because I am not rigid in my beliefs, anything is possible. Am I sucker waiting to be had? Maybe. But it sure beats the hell out of being afraid of what’s lurking around every corner in my life.

So to all my friends of whatever faith you do or don’t belong, a challenge. Ask someone you disagree with and actually listen to their answer. Mull it over and consider the relative merit of it. It may or may not make sense but your mind will appreciate the little walk you just took it on. At the very least, you will be the proud holder of new information.

Frankly. if there is a Jesus or Buddha or Allah, I would think they are quite distressed at what has been done in “their” name. Personally, I would like to see the 3 join up and put one big ass smoting on all of the offenders of the world. That would truly be the greatest story ever told.

Frankly, we need to be more like these guys:


A Man I’ll Never Be

December 11, 2009

One of my childhood idols, strangely enough, Leo Buscaglia. The story of the girl no one ever took the time to know still haunts me some 30+ years later.

Facebook And Twitter Are The Suck

December 11, 2009

I tried…I really, really tried. I signed up for Twitter a few weeks ago and even got a few followers before I had even written a word. Then, I just gazed endlessly at the “What’s Happening” prompt and froze. What’s happening when? Now? Obviously, I am looking at Twitter. 5 minutes ago? Maybe I was taking a dump. 5 minutes from now? Maybe I will be scratching my groin. Twitter is causing a rip in my space/time continuum. So, to date, I have yet to Tweet a word. Fu** you Twitter and the absolutely stupid, mind numbing game you play.

Next, I moved onto Facebook. Everyone has Facebook so this taught me two things. First, it is simple enough that any idiot can use it and second, anytime you can find a group of mindless lemmings congregated, good fun usually ensues.

I set up my little Facebook world and in no time had 10 “friends”. I haven’t had 10 friends in my entire lifetime yet in 30 minutes I was virtually a superstar. I must say… the stroking of my ego felt good. So I started writing brief, innocuous comments. I certainly didn’t want to offend anyone out of the gate and I don’t know what kind of policing tactics they use there so I kept it clean.

Very, very quickly I found a fatal flaw to FB. It is boring! Jesus, Joseph and Mary do I really care that your puppy got a sliver in his foot or you are thinking about having a chicken casserole tonight. Why in the world would anyone care about such meaningless minutia? Still, being new, I waited to see the hopefully riveting answer. Tick-tock, tick-tock… nothing. I wait like 4 hours to see what happened to the puppy and not a damned thing.

That’s when I noticed that people often respond in days and weeks! Who asks a question that can be answered in a week from now? Wow, that sure must be an important question.

Sally: “Alice, was your mom seriously hurt in the accident?”

Alice: “I’m not sure. Let me get back to you on that in a week”.

Sally: “No worries. I’ll just be here with my thumb up my ass waiting for your response”

No wonder the Farm game is so damned popular on FB. People have to sit around for hours waiting for someone to answer their questions. I guess picking up the phone is simply out of the question. Hey! While you were waiting your crops came in! Now go click on the squares for a mind-numbingly period of time to “harvest” them. And, as Oz as my witness, kids and full grown adults do this all…day…long.

So, I am at a crossroads. I will try FB for a few more days and see if maybe I am missing something. However, I must tell you, it reeks of mindless, time killing that is designed to dumb down the population another 50 IQ points. Read a book? Fu** that! I’m almost ready to harvest my sunflowers and get to level 32!

One thing I know. My love and respect for my fellow bloggers and comment providers has grown significantly over the last day or two. Even the people that call me a di**head or fu**stick show that they still have a pulse. Keep fighting the good fight people. Dark days are ahead. Dark days, indeed.   

Even God is starting to get a little pissed off.

The Only Thing We Have To Fear Is Everything

December 9, 2009

I am afraid that Global Warming is going to end the world but not before I die due to any of the various winter “storms of the century”. Or, Al Gore continues to speak and the greenhouse gasses he spews kills us all.

I fear that my lack of faith will lead to an eternal death but I am equally afraid of picking the wrong team. (Arriving in Heaven – “Excuse me, is Jesus here?” Large black man – “Sorry dude, you picked the wrong team. Asa lama lakum”)… Well, fu**.

I fear that I will have an enlarged bladder, enlarged prostate, and enlarged thingy. When I cut loose, it will be like a fire hydrant exploding and I will injure innocent bystanders.

I am afraid that I will be attacked by Al Qaeda but am equally afraid that I will be attacked by Randy Quaid trying to steal my lunch money. Where is the US military when you really need them?

I worry about not having health care but also worry about having crappy health care. “Oh! We were supposed to remove your gall bladder. Well sir, shit happens”.

I worry that the music industry will file a law suit against me for downloading music illegally but I am equally worried that the quality of the music will leave me deaf within 6 months.

I fear that Sarah Palin is not nearly as brilliant as she appears to be. I also fear that she is having a secret affair with Al Sharpton. (Explains the retarded baby).

I worry that Steven Spielberg will suffer from dementia and make a sequel to Jaws called Jews where short white men will swim aimlessly in the ocean looking for lost change.

I worry that the Tea Party people will recruit folks from Kentucky and they will go around trying to tea bag everyone. Worse yet, they will rub lemons on their junk which will make everyone pucker up and give the appearance of smooching their man purses.

I fear that the Mayans got it wrong and the world will really end in 2013. Vito is going to want his exceedingly large loan back and Salma Hayek, whose boobs I grabbed as the clock struck twelve, is going to punch my lights out. Oh, and the “wouldn’t it be funny if I painted my junk red, white and blue and run on the football field” will seem slightly less funny. Fu**ing Mayans…would it kill you to buy a watch?

Finally, I worry that the medication I am on will wear off soon and I regret writing all of the things mentioned above. I also fear that the meds I stole from the lady down the hall might give me a vagina. Is that possible?