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

Wash your Frickin' hands!

I'm at work and have the sudden urge to "drain the radiator", so off to the restroom I go. I do my business and go to wash my hands, and who comes in...my arch nemesis, who we will call "Roy". Roughly eleventy-hundred times a day I want to slit this guys fuckin' throat with a box cutter and then just watch him bleed out all over the floor. After that I want to light this guys corpse on fire, and then piss it out. That is how much I seriously hate this guy.

Anyway, Roy comes in, as I'm just starting to wash my hands. He does his thing, and then just starts to walk out of the restroom. I see him in the mirror looking at me washing my hands, and then...and only then does he get it. Wash your Frickin' hands! So then Roy sheepishly comes over to wash his hands. At this point he sneezes all over the large mirror in front of the sinks. I'm thinking to myself "Yeah, why try to cover your nose and mouth now, you don't want to get your filthy piss dribble all over yourself, you frickin' pig". So he lightly washes his hands, but doesn't use any soap?!?! Seriously, can anyone be anymore disgusting?

So as I'm sitting here typing, I'm starting to wonder if this was a one time deal, or does Roy lack that much in the hygiene department, or does he just not care? I'm also wondering what infectious diseases will creep up and slowly rot away me and every single person who uses that restroom. I think it's time to warn the others, and start using the restroom down the hall.

Well kids, the moral of the story is if you wash your hands after you use the bathroom, you won't get blogged about like Ol' Roy, the Frickin' jack ass.

~E

There is no "We" in team

I live in Wisconsin, and I'm not a Green Bay Packers fan, there I admit it. I hope you are all happy now. Anyway, I listen to local sports talk radio a lot driving to and from work, and I have to tell you that there are a lot of really dumb ass Packer fans.

The reason I say this is because Packer fans are some of the few people that use "WE" when they talk about the team. For example a caller this morning actually said, "We need to stop making stupid mistakes in the red zone and just pound the ball down their throats". Now this was a call from some lady named Claire. "Claire" might have been her alias, because she just might be in the witness protection program, but I'm pretty sure that Claire is not a member of the Green Bay Packers organization.

When I got to work this morning I fired up the world wide interweb to prove that she is not on the team. What do you think I found? There is not one person on the Green Bay Packers staff that goes by the name Claire. So Claire or whatever your real name is, stop the lies! You are not on the team, I looked! As far as I could tell Claire and all her meat head cohorts who use "we" in reference to the team are all liars. These rabid fans that call in crying or bragging about this or that and use the term "we" are just that, fans. They are not on the payroll, they don't ride on the team jet, they do not participate in team meetings or practice, and they certainly are not on the field during the game. At most theses fans sell popcorn and beer at Lambeau Field, and that is as close as most people will ever get to calling themselves a member of the Green Bay Packers.

I will say that there are some really good packer fans out there, but there are some that take their fandom a bit too far, like the guy in the picture at the top.

~E

Hotdish & Strippers

I work for a company that happens to have its own cafeteria, which for the most part is pretty cool. First of all it provides hot breakfast and lunch items, which beats "brown bagging it" or bringing leftovers anyday. Second, the prices are very reasonable. It’s around 3-4 dollars for an entrée, side, and vegetable; so it’s not too bad at all. And finally third, MOST of the time the cafeteria serves really good food. There is usually nothing that even closely resembles school hot lunch, nursing home food, hospital food, or the "three hots" you get while you are in the custody of your city or county correctional facilities. I mentioned that the cafeteria serves really good food MOST of the time; well there is an exception to that statement…


A few weeks ago they were serving one of the all time trusters when it comes to comfort food: Tater Tot Hotdish, and in my best Mach Man Randy Savage voice I said OOOH YEAH! So I had one of the cafeteria workers sling me some of the tater tot loving and away I went back to my desk to enjoy some of what I call "a tear from the cheek of a flavor angel". I opened up my non-biodegradable foam clam lock container, and peered inside. To my surprise I saw bits of yellow, and orange amongst the hamburger, cream of mushroom soup, green beans, and tater tots. Was this some sort of joke or just a simple error?


It turns out that they put Veg-All in their tater tot hotdish! Who in their right mind puts Veg-All in anything? To me Veg-All is something you bring to the food bank, or donate to a strip club to avoid having to pay the cover charge. It’s not something that you eat on purpose, you only eat it when you are tricked into it. Like when you have someone else smell the lumpy, almost solid, spoiled rotten jug of milk.


So, today they had tater tot hotdish for lunch. I wandered over and took one look. Yup, Veg-All again. So I asked the head cook what the story was on the Veg-All in the tater tot hotdish. Her reply was "that’s how my mom has always made it".


I bet her mom is a stripper.