I really feel I need to give myself a bit of a rap here. Sure all guys think they're number one when it comes to the horizontal (or vertical....or perpendicular) bop. But my friends I have to tell you, on the subject of sex, I am a real winner.
When I make love, I ALWAYS come first.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Not entirely selfless
I just can’t bring myself to feel sorry for one of my work colleagues. I admit she’s been doing it pretty tough lately. You see her father is a diabetic. I didn’t know this, but when you’re diabetic you have to be careful to keep any open wounds clean as you’re susceptible to infection.
Well of course, this guy cut his toe, and due to a lack of diligence has got himself a nasty little infection. Well actually it’s not that little. Apparently, he has been put on a very, very strong does of antibiotics. It’s now touch and go. If the antibiotics do not clear up the infection, the poor bastard is going to lose his leg from the knee down.
Don’t get me wrong. I really do feel sorry for this guy, and for his daughter. I know that even though it is not me losing my leg, I would be devastated if one of my parents went through that. And my colleague is really quite distressed.
But here’s the sad part. The girl is getting married in October, and when her father told her of the very real possibility that he may lose his leg, what was her response? She abused him for being so selfish. She openly stated to us, that she was pissed off at him. Her first question to him was “Now how are you going to feel when you can’t walk your daughter down the aisle?”
“How am I going to feel when I can’t walk my daughter down the aisle?!?” Ya fuckin what?!? Excuse my fuckin language, but that just pissed me off. Right then and there I would have taken my gangrenous appendage and shoved it fair up her arse. “Now how are you going to feel when your pooh turns green and your anus falls out?”
Man, I understand that this world has become the sort of place where it is important to look out for yourself, but there are just some situations (i.e this one) where the impact on yourself is far outweighed by the impact on others. Ummm…like the guy who will never walk unaided again.
Well of course, this guy cut his toe, and due to a lack of diligence has got himself a nasty little infection. Well actually it’s not that little. Apparently, he has been put on a very, very strong does of antibiotics. It’s now touch and go. If the antibiotics do not clear up the infection, the poor bastard is going to lose his leg from the knee down.
Don’t get me wrong. I really do feel sorry for this guy, and for his daughter. I know that even though it is not me losing my leg, I would be devastated if one of my parents went through that. And my colleague is really quite distressed.
But here’s the sad part. The girl is getting married in October, and when her father told her of the very real possibility that he may lose his leg, what was her response? She abused him for being so selfish. She openly stated to us, that she was pissed off at him. Her first question to him was “Now how are you going to feel when you can’t walk your daughter down the aisle?”
“How am I going to feel when I can’t walk my daughter down the aisle?!?” Ya fuckin what?!? Excuse my fuckin language, but that just pissed me off. Right then and there I would have taken my gangrenous appendage and shoved it fair up her arse. “Now how are you going to feel when your pooh turns green and your anus falls out?”
Man, I understand that this world has become the sort of place where it is important to look out for yourself, but there are just some situations (i.e this one) where the impact on yourself is far outweighed by the impact on others. Ummm…like the guy who will never walk unaided again.
Monday, February 25, 2008
WOW! The virtual laxative really worked
It's only been a matter of minutes since my first post and already I am back. And I bet you can't guess what I was doing in between posts?! Yeah OK you probably did guess, but for the benefit of the completely clueless (and for the fact that I just wanna tell the whole world) I was taking a crap.
It amazes me how we, as people, are so repulsed by the concept of pooh. Fair enough, it stinks, but we all love the smell of our own farts. Yeah it's a boring old brown colour, but if my memory serves me correctly, brown is the new black. And I gotta tell ya, after what I just did, I feel a whole lot slimmer.
So why is it that we can go for hours, sometimes days, with this stuff lodged firmly up inside of us and (for lack of a better phrase...cos this is a good one) not give a shit? But the moment it is out of us, we are suddenly repulsed.
You know, I am not a very hairy man. I have normal amounts of hair on my arms and legs. I have a small tuft of hair on the cavity where my chest should be. Just the other day, my wife let me know that my hairline has begun to recede almost as rapidly as the flood waters in the previous post. Of course I blame her and the 3 year old, but really it is just nature. Not that this is of concern to me. I regularly cut my hair with the clippers cos I just hate having hair. If I go bald it will save me a fortune on maintaining my clipper set, and probably a good whack of time too.
Why am I telling you this? Because, for the life of me, I can't understand why I have such a hairy arse. You would not believe the amount of hair I have down there. It's like I had a damn buttocks transplant from a wookiee. Fair dinkum, every time I go to take a crap I have to pack a cut lunch because I spend the first five minutes crapping and the next half hour wiping shit out of my anus-afro. I have to set my alarm half an hour early every morning just in case I have the urge to take a dump when I wake up. And did I just mention how repulsed I am by the stuff. Well think about it...every single time I grab a little wad of toilet paper and rub it up between my cheeks I have to look at it to see if there's any shit there. OF COURSE THERE'S BLOODY SHIT THERE... I just crapped through a mat of twistedshort long and curlies. And I have to do this 50 times. You'd think I would learn and maybe for the first 30 or 40 wipes I would just assume there is pooh on there and toss it in the bowl.
Speaking of wookiee butts (well we are now), do you think Chewbacca would have had these same problems? I mean that poor creature has so much hair. He even has this overgrowth thing happening on his hands. Think about that when you're delicately scrunching the toilet paper and deftly positioning it in the tips of your fingers ready for your first wipe. Wouldn't matter with Chewy. Regardless of how much effort he went to, he was always gonna get shit on his hands. Now think about that the next time you go to eat a doughnut or some other finger food.
And while we are on the subject of Star Wars hair transplants (you guys really need to get the concept of wookiee anuses out of your mind...move on people). I have developed the nick name of Yoda. If you haven't worked it out yet, you will soon. I am a huge Star Wars fan. I named my dog after a Star Wars character. I even named my son after a Star Wars character. No his name is not 'Solacious Crumb'. Anyways the nick name of Yoda does not come from the fact that I am old and wise. It does not come from the fact that I am, by far, the best light sabre duelist in the galaxy. The nick name was bestowed upon me, because there is one other place on my body that has an unnaturally large growth of hair. My ears.
I don't shave on the week-ends so on a Sunday night or Monday morning I shave with a razor blade. the rest of the week I just use an electric shaver. The Sunday night / Monday morning thing is determined by when I think I will next need to take a dump. If it is on Monday morning, then I have to shave the night before or I will be late to work. Anyways, I digress. When I shave with the blade I also shave my ears. My wife thought it was amusing when she asked me why my ear was bleeding, and I told her I cut it shaving.
The way things are going, I am going to end up looking so much like a freak that my wife will leave me, and then I am sure you know where the next place I start growing hair will be.
It amazes me how we, as people, are so repulsed by the concept of pooh. Fair enough, it stinks, but we all love the smell of our own farts. Yeah it's a boring old brown colour, but if my memory serves me correctly, brown is the new black. And I gotta tell ya, after what I just did, I feel a whole lot slimmer.
So why is it that we can go for hours, sometimes days, with this stuff lodged firmly up inside of us and (for lack of a better phrase...cos this is a good one) not give a shit? But the moment it is out of us, we are suddenly repulsed.
You know, I am not a very hairy man. I have normal amounts of hair on my arms and legs. I have a small tuft of hair on the cavity where my chest should be. Just the other day, my wife let me know that my hairline has begun to recede almost as rapidly as the flood waters in the previous post. Of course I blame her and the 3 year old, but really it is just nature. Not that this is of concern to me. I regularly cut my hair with the clippers cos I just hate having hair. If I go bald it will save me a fortune on maintaining my clipper set, and probably a good whack of time too.
Why am I telling you this? Because, for the life of me, I can't understand why I have such a hairy arse. You would not believe the amount of hair I have down there. It's like I had a damn buttocks transplant from a wookiee. Fair dinkum, every time I go to take a crap I have to pack a cut lunch because I spend the first five minutes crapping and the next half hour wiping shit out of my anus-afro. I have to set my alarm half an hour early every morning just in case I have the urge to take a dump when I wake up. And did I just mention how repulsed I am by the stuff. Well think about it...every single time I grab a little wad of toilet paper and rub it up between my cheeks I have to look at it to see if there's any shit there. OF COURSE THERE'S BLOODY SHIT THERE... I just crapped through a mat of twisted
Speaking of wookiee butts (well we are now), do you think Chewbacca would have had these same problems? I mean that poor creature has so much hair. He even has this overgrowth thing happening on his hands. Think about that when you're delicately scrunching the toilet paper and deftly positioning it in the tips of your fingers ready for your first wipe. Wouldn't matter with Chewy. Regardless of how much effort he went to, he was always gonna get shit on his hands. Now think about that the next time you go to eat a doughnut or some other finger food.
And while we are on the subject of Star Wars hair transplants (you guys really need to get the concept of wookiee anuses out of your mind...move on people). I have developed the nick name of Yoda. If you haven't worked it out yet, you will soon. I am a huge Star Wars fan. I named my dog after a Star Wars character. I even named my son after a Star Wars character. No his name is not 'Solacious Crumb'. Anyways the nick name of Yoda does not come from the fact that I am old and wise. It does not come from the fact that I am, by far, the best light sabre duelist in the galaxy. The nick name was bestowed upon me, because there is one other place on my body that has an unnaturally large growth of hair. My ears.
I don't shave on the week-ends so on a Sunday night or Monday morning I shave with a razor blade. the rest of the week I just use an electric shaver. The Sunday night / Monday morning thing is determined by when I think I will next need to take a dump. If it is on Monday morning, then I have to shave the night before or I will be late to work. Anyways, I digress. When I shave with the blade I also shave my ears. My wife thought it was amusing when she asked me why my ear was bleeding, and I told her I cut it shaving.
The way things are going, I am going to end up looking so much like a freak that my wife will leave me, and then I am sure you know where the next place I start growing hair will be.
What a way to start a blog!
My day commenced at about 3am when the missus wakes me up to let me know it was raining. First thought was..."Not something I really needed to know in the middle of the night." That was until the roof started leaking.
So I got up, and my wife had already done the 'thinking' thing. She got a couple of plastic containers to catch the drips while I stood there thinking about how I am going to fix it, at 3am in the middle of a downpour.
Now, I live in Central Queensland. Have done so for a little over two years and we have never had that much rain that it starts to seep through our ceiling. Well I guess today is a day of firsts. First blog post. First time the leaks in our roof have become apparent....oh yeah....AND THE FIRST TIME THE WHOLE AREA UNDERNEATH MY HOUSE COMPLETELY FLOODED.
Pardon me. Got a bit excited there. For those of you not familiar with the area, Central Queensland has been suffering some torrential rainfall in the last couple of months. The river that flows through my town is swelling due to all of the rain coming from up north. We were already suffering minor flooding throughout the town, but our house was unaffected. However, we had a total of 165mm in a little over an hour, and there was really nowhere for the water to flow to. Except maybe under our house as I have just mentioned. To make things worse, we live at the bottom of a small mountain. So when it rains, we get all of that water flowing down to us too.
At about 3:45am, it was time to move the car before it went under. My wife also runs a retail business only a small distance from our house, so I decided to take a drive to the shop to see if it was OK. As I stated a little earlier, we are at the bottom of a hill, so by driving up the hill, I knew I would be able to get through.
Incorrect…the massive downpour was washing so much water down that each intersection running horizontal to the lay of the land was also flooding. I managed to get all the way down to where the shop is situated, but had to turn back. There was no way in to it. Well at least not without swimming. Turned around and headed back home.
That whole trip, which would normally take me about 5 minutes, took half an hour. Got home and thought…”Where’s the dog??”. She had herself trapped under the house and the water was rising. Man, you should have felt her heartbeat as I picked her up and carried her to safety. Funny though, how the cliché goes: ‘Every cloud has a silver lining’. The dog had to come inside with us, but she was filthy. Not only from the flood waters, but due to the fact that I had not managed to give her a bath in over a month. So she got a bath. Bonus! Yeah ask her if she feels the same way.
Anyways, by now the rain had ceased, but the damage was done. Took about another 5 hours for the water to recede enough for us to begin the task of cleaning up. Actually the clean up wasn’t too bad. Most of the stuff that was damaged can’t be touched until the insurance assessors check it out. My wife was pretty devastated though. Lost a heck of a lot of her keepsakes. We had them stored in plastic containers to keep the weather out…LOL…Didn’t work. The shop is OK, by the way. Completely dry except for a small amount of rain seeping in under the door.
Hey here’s a view from our 3 year olds bedroom window:
So I got up, and my wife had already done the 'thinking' thing. She got a couple of plastic containers to catch the drips while I stood there thinking about how I am going to fix it, at 3am in the middle of a downpour.
Now, I live in Central Queensland. Have done so for a little over two years and we have never had that much rain that it starts to seep through our ceiling. Well I guess today is a day of firsts. First blog post. First time the leaks in our roof have become apparent....oh yeah....AND THE FIRST TIME THE WHOLE AREA UNDERNEATH MY HOUSE COMPLETELY FLOODED.
Pardon me. Got a bit excited there. For those of you not familiar with the area, Central Queensland has been suffering some torrential rainfall in the last couple of months. The river that flows through my town is swelling due to all of the rain coming from up north. We were already suffering minor flooding throughout the town, but our house was unaffected. However, we had a total of 165mm in a little over an hour, and there was really nowhere for the water to flow to. Except maybe under our house as I have just mentioned. To make things worse, we live at the bottom of a small mountain. So when it rains, we get all of that water flowing down to us too.
At about 3:45am, it was time to move the car before it went under. My wife also runs a retail business only a small distance from our house, so I decided to take a drive to the shop to see if it was OK. As I stated a little earlier, we are at the bottom of a hill, so by driving up the hill, I knew I would be able to get through.
Incorrect…the massive downpour was washing so much water down that each intersection running horizontal to the lay of the land was also flooding. I managed to get all the way down to where the shop is situated, but had to turn back. There was no way in to it. Well at least not without swimming. Turned around and headed back home.
That whole trip, which would normally take me about 5 minutes, took half an hour. Got home and thought…”Where’s the dog??”. She had herself trapped under the house and the water was rising. Man, you should have felt her heartbeat as I picked her up and carried her to safety. Funny though, how the cliché goes: ‘Every cloud has a silver lining’. The dog had to come inside with us, but she was filthy. Not only from the flood waters, but due to the fact that I had not managed to give her a bath in over a month. So she got a bath. Bonus! Yeah ask her if she feels the same way.
Anyways, by now the rain had ceased, but the damage was done. Took about another 5 hours for the water to recede enough for us to begin the task of cleaning up. Actually the clean up wasn’t too bad. Most of the stuff that was damaged can’t be touched until the insurance assessors check it out. My wife was pretty devastated though. Lost a heck of a lot of her keepsakes. We had them stored in plastic containers to keep the weather out…LOL…Didn’t work. The shop is OK, by the way. Completely dry except for a small amount of rain seeping in under the door.
Hey here’s a view from our 3 year olds bedroom window:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
