Christmas Songs

We all have a favorite Christmas song. Mine is Carol of the Bells. I also have a most despised Christmas song which is The Twelve Days of Christmas. It's stupid, annoying and so repetitive, I'd rather listen to the dogs barking out Jingle Bells all day then listen to that twelve day turd once.

First of all, giving gifts every day instead of all at once sounds more like Hanukkah than Christmas. And what kind of ridiculous gifts are these? What kind of partridge? The bird or one of the family members? And for either one of them to live in it, it must be a full grown tree with roots and everything. What the hell are you going to do with that? And in case you haven't thought about it, you get another one each day. What the heck are you going to do with twelve of these damn trees?

The second day brings turtle doves. I'm starting to think the gift giver is a bird freak.

The third day is French hens and now I know he's a bird freak. But I don't know why anyone would give French hens as a gift. All they do is run away.

The fourth day is, you guessed it, more birds. These are calling birds although there is no mention of who or what they are calling. Sounds like it would be loud and annoying to me.

On the fifth day it's finally something worthwhile with golden rings. It's like having to sit through opening the socks and sweaters before getting to the toy. Things are looking up now.

My hopes are high and I'm excited for the next present when BAM, it's back to the birds again. Six geese a laying. Are they laying eggs or each other? Either way it's not something I really want to see.

My milking maid mom is dry

Next up is seven swans a swimming. More birds. And what are they swimming in? Do they have their own pond or are these things swimming in my bathtub? At this point I have enough bird crap to start my own fertilizer company.

Eight maids a milking. Milking what? Themselves? So I have eight women milking sixteen udders as they come through the door? Squish, squish, squish, squish. And this happens day 8, 9, 10, 11 and 12! It's sounds like Christmas in a Borat movie for Christ's sake.

The last four days bring in the entertainment. Dancers and musicians. I'm guessing the pipers are there just to keep the birds happy.

I don't want to even think about this song any more. I'm going to go sing some real Christmas carols. Woof woof woof, woof woof woof, woof woof woof woof woof.

News Bites November 2011

MO NO MO'

Moammar Gadhafi is no more. One man's terrorist is another man's terrorist....

                                                .....or cross dresser.                                                 

HERMAN CAIN IS A FRONT RUNNER

He wants to change the tax code with his 999 plan.

 He also wants to change the food stamp program so that they are only good at Godfather's Pizza.

THE WEDDING

I now pronounce you, Kim Kardashian, and you, Kris Humphries man and...

                    ....ex-wife. I guess that ass isn't all it's cracked up to be.

HEAVYWEIGHT

Christina......

                                        .....is about to eat the audience.

OCCUPY LA

                           It's not occupied, there's still plenty of vagrancy 

MONEY IS NO OBJECT

Justin Bieber rented out the entire 20,000 seat Staples Center to have dinner in the center of the arena with girlfriend, Selena Gomez. He then rented a movie theater to catch a flick with his girl. What's next? Inside sources tell us that "The Beib" has instructed his peeps to reserve the Garden of Eden for his engagement party.


NEW SHOWS

 X-FACTOR:

It should be called "Drug Addicts, Cripples (OK, physically challenged) and Washed Up Losers Sing the Blues". Singing isn't enough for this show. You also need some kind of sappy human interest story which I'm not interested in. Bah humbug.

KIM KARDASHIAN'S FAIRY TALE WEDDING:

 This should have been called "A No Talent, Self Absorbed, Unappreciative Fat Ass with a Sex Tape Marries a Neanderthal."  I think three wedding dresses and Kris signing an "I get nothing" pre-nup says it all.

Typical Guy

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and he told me a friend of his read my blog and her only comment was "typical guy". I couldn't help thinking about it when I got home that night.

I used to be a typical guy back in the 70's. Being a typical guy was cool. It meant you were a man's man. Then in the 80's-90's there was a big push for men to be sensitive and treat women as equals. The problem was that no matter what they said, women didn't really dig the metro-sexual, Nancy-boy type. The hot women continued to like the manly, take charge, just a bit of a bad boy kind of man. That's why women have always liked cops. Uniformed, carrying hand cuffs with a loaded weapon kind of cops. It was really a push by the feminist movement, comprised mainly of butch lesbians and tomboys (which is ironic) that spread like a cancer to the entire female population for a while.*

*No need to fill my comment section (I wish) with negative comments calling me anti-gay. I, like many of my typical male counterparts, fully support the lesbian and female bi-sexual community.

Upgrading Technology

I finally got around to upgrading my home technology. I hooked up the wireless router that's been sitting around the house for a year so I finally have the PS3 on-line. I also picked up a printer/scanner/copier/fax for $89. My old printer came "free" when I bought my computer. It runs out of ink after printing 4 or 5 pages and then I have to replace the color-only ink cartridge for $49, which can only be purchased from Dell. Bend over!

I've been meaning to upgrade things for a long time but kept putting it off. I used to be different. I'd always be the first one on the block when anything new came out. It was a little easier back then. New technological advances came slowly and a lot of old fogies didn't care about the newfangled gadgets being sold.

I had one of the first digital watches which was impractical but looked really cool. It must have weighed 7 or 8 pounds and it was huge. More like a wrist weight than a watch. There were no commercial liquid crystal displays so this one had a LED display and went through a battery every week. To save battery power the display was not always on. To see the time you had to push a big round metal button that was really hard to press and left a circle imprint in your finger for a few minutes.

Declaration of Malentine Day

Hear ye! Hear ye!

OK, so whether you girls want to admit it or not, Valentines Day is really just a day for the women. Guys pretend to be into it because if the don't they won't get any for a month, and if they do they'll get some that night. Not really much of a choice.

That being said, I think guys should have their own day. It's been suggested that Superbowl Sunday is just for the guys, but everyone knows that chicks like beer and football just as much as guys do, they just won't admit it.

This new day shall be known as Malentines Day and the symbol will be an upside down heart on an upside down golf tee (a spade for those of you with limited imagination). It shall symbolize how much men love golf, which for some reason they all do sooner or later.

Golf looks like a stupid game but I played a couple of times and it was fun. I just don't understand why everyone has to be quiet when someone tees off. Fifty thousand people can scream at the top of their lungs while a baseball player tries to hit a rock hard ball that's being thrown at him in excess of 90 mph and there's no problem. If you sneeze while a golfer is teeing off they slap you in the face with a pair of gloves and ban you from the country club. I don't get it. But I digress.

While Valentines Day has cupids, we shall have stupids. A cupid is a little chubby boy with wings who shoots an arrow into the heart to make someone fall in love. A stupid is an old, unshaven, fat man with wings who shoots an arrow into the heart of the girlfriend/wife to make her forget all the stupid stuff the guy has done in the last year.

Stop The Madness!

Disclaimer: While writing this post I was taking steroids that were prescribed for a nasty sinus infection I had at the time. The steroids made me a little, or according to my wife, more than a little edgy. I'm not usually an angry, violent, sarcastic (ok maybe sarcastic) butthead. Really!

I really hate all the politically correct speak that's going around these days. It's insane the way it's become so important to label everything so that no one gets offended. Don't get offended, just get over it. I don't know why but it really makes my blood boil. Maybe it's because it was originally used primarily for sales purposes to make the buyer feel empowered and feel good about themselves and now it's crept into everyday conversation and it's just a pile of BS.

Let's start with the wife. Everyone seems to enjoy her stories. She loves dogs, especially puppies. Every one she sees is the cutest, most precious dog she's ever laid her eyes on. When she spots someone with a furry little canine friend she has to approach them and pet the dog. Since that's what she wants to do, she should ask the owner if she can pet the dog. But no, she says "Oh, your dog is adorable, may I say hello?" Apparently she doesn't want to pet it before getting a formal introduction. "Hello, what's your name" asks the wife. "My name is Fida and I'm a Bulldog, Shih Tzu mix which makes me a Bullshih." Oh, perfect. Because that's what the wife is going to do with the owner for the next 30 minutes. Lucky me.

TOMAL Therapy

I did a search for branches of alternative medicine and a list as long as my arm came back. And I have a long arm. Most of them have a cure rate no better than a placebo, but there are a lot of people that are willing to pay for them. This has been going on since the 1800's when snake oil salesmen sold elixirs and potions that claimed to cure anything from toothaches to bunions.

Let's take chiropractic for example. It's not approved by the AMA. The training course to become a chiropractor takes like six or eight weeks and then you're awarded your "degree". The wife goes to a chiropractor. I don't know his real name but I call him Dr. Charlatan which really pisses her off for some reason. The last time I took her for an appointment I told the "doctor" that I've been performing chiropractic on my knuckles every day for years. He said that was enough experience to be his assistant and offered me a job!

Dating Tips for the Ladies

I have a few single female friends looking for a relationship and they're going about it in a completely nonsensical way. For them it's all flash and no cash. They were my inspiration for this post.

If you're a female on the wrong side of 30, you're probably over the casual dating thing and ready to move on and look for something more permanent. This requires a completely different approach. Cute and exciting are not the keys to a long term relationship. You need to think financial stability. If it helps, you can replace the term "financial stability" with "unlimited shopping". In this case, it means the same thing.

Anniversary

Well it's our 31st or 32nd anniversary this year. I suppose I could Google it to see which it is but I'm too lazy to bother. I used to remember by picturing the wedding matchbook in my head. Back in the day, each of the wedding place settings had a matchbook with the date embossed on the front. But after all these years the memory has blurred and faded just like my sanity.

We're past the crystal and silver anniversaries. I'm pretty sure this year is wood, so I'm going to give my wife some wood for our anniversary. Then again, I'm pretty sure it's the wood anniversary every year and I haven't been right yet. The next big anniversary is the 35th. The gift for that anniversary is Jade. After all these years I'm jaded enough for the both of us so I'm just going to give her myself, and some wood.

Beach Handbook

A handy dandy guide to beach etiquette.

Don't smoke. You can't smoke on the beach anymore. Why? Because a bunch of candy asses complained about second hand smoke. Today the beach was packed and there was an aroma of marijuana wafting through the air. Not one candy ass complained about that.

Don't bring glass. You can't have glass on the beach. Today, one of those little Beach Patrol girls in her little white uniform and bicycle helmet sneaked up behind me on her knees and stuck her face over my shoulder and told me I had to throw my Starbucks drink away because it was in a bottle. Scared the bejesus out of me. It was like something out of an old movie of the future showing silly stuff that would never really happen.