Get Well Soon

This morning I heard a bit of bad news. At the age of 85, Bettie Page has been hospitalized after suffering a heart attack, and is now in critical condition. Some of you may be asking "Who is Bettie Page & Why do you care Mr. Sassy Britches Blogger Man?" If you don't know who Bettie Page is, well shame on you. Jump in my creepy van (please ignore the bikes, candy, and puppies all marked "free") and we'll take a trip back to the 50's pin-up scene.

Bettie Page was born in Nashville, Tennessee on April 22, 1923. She had a pretty F'd up childhood, moved around a lot, married then divorced early, and then in 1950 she moved to NYC and started modeling. From 1950-1957 Bettie posed for Playboy and posed for a ton of very popular pin-up and bondage themed photos. In 1959 Bettie converted to Christianity and ended her modeling career, and lived happily ever after.

Now for the "Why do you care Mr. Sassy Britches Blogger Man" part of the story. In case you don't know, I'm a guy, and Bettie page was SO hot. She looks like an 85 year old woman now, but in the 50's...OMFG! She was the kind of girl that would cause many a man to stray from their marriage, turn Catholic Priests straight and away from the choir boys, get many a woman all slushy in the pants, and cause men to do painful & humiliating things to themselves and others all just to see her naked. The things guys would do to have sex with her, I can't even mention here, it's that bad. She was hot & slutty but in a good way, a classy way. There was a very seductive shy look about her that drew you into to her naughty "gonna break you in two, can't walk straight for a week" kinda look that really did it for her, and for me too.

So take a second to look her up (ignoring the terrible movie made about her), and wish her well on her recovery.
~E

Creepy Little Bastards

I was sorting mail this morning at work when I came across a letter that creeped me out. It wasn't what was on the inside, it was what was on the outside. In the upper right hand corner was a nutcracker stamp. I don't know if you have seen these yet, but they are part of the Holiday Collection from the Post Office. I don't know who the sadistic fool at the Post Office headquarters was that decided this was a good idea to place these creepy images onto stamps, but he was wrong. He was not quite as wrong as the 15th century German dude who started carving them in the first place, but wrong none the less.

My fear of these creepy little bastards started as a small child, when my cousin tricked me into putting my finger into the mouth of one of these evil creations. You can imagine what happened next. So with a mangled finger and tears flowing down my young cheeks, I stared at this thing and started to notice all that is wrong with them. First it seems be wearing disturbing little uniforms and holding weapons or drumsticks. Then I noticed the eyes...angry dead eyes, like the eyes of a doll. Next I saw the hair, nothing natural or inviting there either. Finally I saw the mouth. An open maw filled with spaced apart square teeth. The mouth of some evil rock crushing machine or serial killer. Creepy as fuck...all of it!

The next time you see one of those evil stamps or a nutcracker for sale in the mall, you do what I do. Run, run your ass off!

~E

Greed

Jdimytai Damour probably enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with his family, and then went to bed early so that he wouldn't be late for work. See Jdimytai Damour, worked at Wal-Mart. That was until 5am Friday morning. Shortly after the doors to Wal-Mart opened at 5am in Valley Stream N.Y, 2000 fucking savages bum rushed the doors and crushed poor Jdimytai Damour to death. They also happened to knock down some of his co-workers and a woman who just happened to be 8 months pregnant. Yep, someone is going to hell for that.

Are you telling me that getting a deal on a TV is more important than a human life?!?! At some point I'm pretty sure that I would have found that digging my heels into someones back, trying to dislodge my elbow from an ear canal, punching the old lady in front of me in the neck, and the constant cries of "Dear God and Little Baby Jesus, Get these Mother Fuckers off of me, I'm suffocating and my spine is broken, and I'm laying in a puddle of my own blood and piss!" would have indicated to me that something was wrong. Not to these assholes. They just kept on shoppin', all the while on the look out for falling prices.

What I think they should do is round up all that were responsible for Jdimytai Damour's death, and march them over to his parents house. They would then have to apologize to his parents, hand over to his parents all the things that they bought while he was dying, and then tell his parents "This TV, and this digital picture frame were worth so much more that your sons life."

Jesus died for our sins. Jdimytai Damour died so someone could buy a TV.

WTF?!?!

~E