Facebutt

I would consider joining facebook if it were more like this here.

Old... like 35

Last night Michelle and I went to see Minus the Bear play. While we were waiting in line to get in, we noticed the abundance of younger people also waiting to get into the show:

The slutty chick who had to speak loud enough so that everyone within 20 feet of her knew she was facebooking on her phone.

The drunken guy that kept leaning on me and repeatedly saying, "Sorry, I'm drunk." To which Michelle or I would answer, "We know, you told us that 2 minutes ago".

The skinny kid in pants that were too tight, expect in the butt, where, I presume, he kept room for crapping himself when he gets too drunk or lazy to go to the bathroom.

That was part 1.

Later during the show, while looking around for the source of someone engaging in reefer madness, while scratching my temple near my gray hairs, I commented to Michelle, "We're probably the third and fourth oldest people in this room."

That was part 2.

Since Michelle and I are both fans of Minus the Bear, we listen to them at home. Logan hears their music and has become familiar with it. During the song "Ice Monster", Michelle recalled and shared a story of how Logan responded to the lyrics of that song, "Take a step back and turn yourself around," by spinning around and saying, "I am turning around."
I told her, "We're at a concert and talking about our kids."
She said, "Yeah, we're old."
I said, "We both had dental work done today."
(I wasn't lying either.)
We had to get close to hear each other over the music, crowd noise, and the earplugs we were wearing.

That was part 3.

Later that night, when we were leaving, we came across some kid who asked where an ATM was. He didn't have any cash to pay the parking fee. Michelle gave him $2 and said, "Here you go sonny. Stay in school." (Or something close to that.) Noticing he also wore dumpy ass, tight leg pants, I told him to get some new pants. (Seriously.)
Then we got in our Buick and drove home.

That was part 3.
Oh wait I already said part 3, my memory is a little fuzzy.


PS. Did you see this post yet?

Sci Fi

Tomorrow, I'm going to the future. See you then.

S.I.T.

Helen, you little hussy

I'm seriously considering purchasing The Fall of Troy's newest album In the Unlikely Event. I'm even thinking of getting the real CD (not just crappy mp3's --with all their digital clipping and other such limitations the average peon's ears can't detect but are there nonetheless tainting the music like the space between). Then I can lick the plastic at night before I go to sleep.

Happy Veterans Day

Hey there,

Happy Veteran's Day to all you vets out there. The countless animal lives you've saved has made America a better place. Kudos to you for ignoring Bob Barker and impregnating your pets.

Suck it Trebek,
Mike

Making stupid things funny

Sometimes things are so stupid they are funny. Like Kung Pow! Enter the Fist, or Tenacious D. Other times things so stupid, they are just stupid. Like Garfield. The guy that writes Garfield is so stupid that if it weren't for something else that I'm going to tell you about, I'd be seriously pissed off that I've wasted any time even knowing that Garfield exists. It's just so stupid. Not funny. Never.

Sometimes I wonder if it's all really only funny to Jim Davis, but not funny because of the content--funny because he actually gets millions to write such a stupid comic. Maybe it's a joke he's playing on the world. That's the funny part to him. He probably laughs every time he writes saying, "Ha! Some bozo's going to cut this out of the paper and put it on their fridge. Loser."

Fortunately, I stumbled upon, Garfield minus Garfield. Great stuff; not only it is unintendedly humorous, but it's funnier than the original comic, further reiterating how crappy the original strip is.

Here are some great strips I saw while looking through the website:
#1
#2
#3
#4
#5
#6
#7
#8

PS. These Garfield minus Garfield are also stupid, but so stupid it's sort of funny. Maybe it's a relative thing. Man, I hate Garfield.

Yo

It's been a while.

What have I been always doing sometimes?

Summarized list:
- Working
- Logan
- Warming weather
- Killing

When I get home from working, I just haven't felt like sitting in front of a computer screen after doing so all day long. Especially now that Logan is a little older and running around; it's a lot of fun to play with him. And once he's in bed, my second job as a hitman takes up my whole night.

One job got me thinking. It really wasn't much of a job at first, it got interesting, but in the end, wasn't much of a job either.

Getting in to his place was easy. Since it was late at night, the ride to White Plains barely took an hour. His house was on a cul de sac not far from the Cross Westchester expressway. His place was right at the end and his backyard ran up against some woods and a baseball field.

He was home, which I knew before I left, and alone. He was Indian, I think, and judging by the decor in his place, Buddhist. His place was immaculate; clean, straight lines, fancy art on the walls, leather couches, mahogany hardwood floors, posh Oriental rugs throughout, a dark wooden bookcase full of hardcover books. This had some money, and for a minute I almost let myself wonder why he had a contract. I brushed it aside and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. I thought about climbing up the railings, since his stairs were finished hardwood with no runner, but decided it would be better to save my energy and besides, nobody's stairs squeaked as much as mine. The master bedroom had more Buddhist relics in it. As I moved through the open doorway, I noticed a fat, bald dude looking at me from the corner of the room. What the f... it was just a Buddha statue. I realized I was being lazy, but had nothing to worry about, this guy was out cold. But Buddha kept looking at me. Kept staring at me.

I couldn't shake the "karma, noble truths, etc." junk I had learned about Buddhism back when I was confirmed at my church. Instead of worrying about my actions though, I thought, "I guess this guy just had it coming."

I looked around for any weapons he might keep in his bedroom, and after finding nothing, decided it'd be best to finish the job in the hall, on the wooden floor. It might be easier to clean up then.

I walked out into the hallway to look around when I heard him moving. I turned around slowly, quietly, to face his doorway, and slowly began walking backwards, periodically glancing over my shoulder for a place to hide. Then the karma thing bit me in the ass. Literally, and it stung. I had backed into the corner of a side table he had in his hall. It was barely a bump, but enough to not only hurt my ass, but also send a large vase, and some ugly fake flowers, over onto the hardwood floors. Shit! I thought, but the vase hit with a soft thud, unbroken. Karma.

Nonetheless, he stumbled out of this bedroom and towards me, seemingly unaware I was just inside the shadows at the end of the hall. He looked half asleep still, and I figured he was heading into the bathroom or something.

He was wearing long, baggy pajama pants and no shirt. Once his gait revealed he had light colored socks on. He held an empty glass in one hand. He rubbed his face with the open palm of the other hand and picked his head up after he finished. Then he noticed my silhouette in the shadows.

I was just readying myself to move towards him when he startled and stepped back. His left foot hit the edge of the top stair awkwardly and he tumbled down violently. I quickly followed him down, using the railings to hurdle the broken glass that was strewn across the top few treads.

I got down to the bottom with my rope in hand when I noticed how still he was. His head was facing toward the wall but his torso was bent back, unnaturally and probably uncomfortably towards the middle of the room. I checked his pulse. He was dead. Karma.

I didn't even have to clean up. I was going to get paid because this dude was a klutz.

I put my rope back in my coat pocket and headed toward the window I climbed in. I noticed a framed picture on the wall that I didn't see when I came in. It was of Buddha with a saying superimposed over the picture. It read:

"Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your common sense."

Literally that means, "only listen to what you want to hear."

I realize that's the mantra of a great number of people. People I know, people you know. It's a nice way to live.

I climbed out the window, pulled it shut and walked through the backyard, through the woods and to my car. I rubbed my ass where it still stung a little and got in. I drove home a little slower this time; I didn't want to get a speeding ticket. Speeding is dangerous and illegal.

Buddha was a genius. I never knew it was that easy to achieve nirvana.
Only listen to what you want to hear.

Equalibrium

I'm impatient.

Damn, that took too long to type.


I'm not as funny as you think I am.

Here's a brief, real example of what I mean.

The other day, I was bringing the trash to the curb for pick up when I noticed something small moving slowly in the road. It moved in a weird way, almost like the wind was doing most of the work. I set the recycleables down and walked into the road to see what it was. It was a little squirrel. It appeared to have been involved in an automobile accident. Fortunately, it was only stunned--it's legs, back and head were all fine--it was only still a little scared. It looked like a young squirrel based on it's size and the roundness of it's face, but I really couldn't tell. I lifted my leg up enough to feel the stretch in my pants. Saddly, I admit, it was actually a little bit tough on my muscles, and it helped me realize I am a little out of shape and unflexible. I waited a moment with my leg in the air like some sort of yoga master. The sun made my shadow look long and funny. Then, suddenly, I dropped my foot, and my leg followed. Smash! The squirrel's head was crushed. I picked it up and drank it's blood, celebrating my victory over nature.

No! I'm just kidding, I didn't drink it's blood, that would be gross.


The point is, I'm only funny sometimes, and sometimes I'm not funny. When I'm not funny, I'm here. I probably won't update much, but I'll try real hard.

You might wonder how I can find the time to jibber-jabber all over these blogs, and I wonder how you have time to read them. Mostly, I don't do much at work, and my friends avoid me with clever excuses. If I really spent time with them, why would I need a blog to tell them what I'm always doing sometimes? They'd be there watching me do whatever it is that I always do sometimes!

There is a guy who makes marbles. He starts with some glass (which I guess is just sand) and melts it in a real hot oven of some type. He rolls the glass around, letting gravity shape the glass into a ball. He heats other colored glasses into long rolls, like logs. He scores the logs and breaks then. He heats the pieces up and layers them onto the glass ball. Then he heats the whole thing up again, rolling it around to let gravity make the shape into a ball. Then he adds more colors, sometime logs of colored glass, sometimes fragments or slivers. Then he heats it up again and rolls. The process repeats any number of times until he's satisfied with what he's made. He said that no two marbles are the same, with all the layers and rolling and heating.



I keep one of those marbles for a brain. That's why I'm so dumb.

Precautionary measures

Sometimes, I think to myself, "I can tell you're reading my mind," just in case someone nearby is actually reading my mind.

WTF?!

The other day, while I was making a martini, I spilled some dry vermouth on my shirt and my shirt actually got wet! How can that be?!

Koala Swimwear

I got some mail the other day. Besides fan mail, usually, my mail consists of bills (this kind of life is getting expensive, we know how to live baby...), beer brewing magazines, Toyfare, or junk for Logan. But the other day, I got this in the mail.



It's from Victoria's Secret, and it's for free panties, but it was addressed to me. So I went to Victoria's Secret to get my free panties. Hell, maybe Victoria's secret is that she has a penis just like I do.

So I go in and all the sales women avoid me at first. I'm sure caressing the nipples on the mannequin didn't help. After I showed them the free panty coupon, they seemed willing to help.

SALESLADY: What kind of panties would your wife like?

ME: My wife?

HER: Oh, I'm sorry. I saw you were wearing a wedding band and just assumed you were married.

ME: I am married.

HER: Well, then aren't you going to get her some panties?

ME: This is addressed to me. I'm here to get me some free panties.

HER: Uhh....I don't think it works that way.

(Her manager, also a women, comes over and askes if she can help.)

MANAGER: Can I help you sir?

ME: What size panty do you think I would wear?

MANAGER: Sir, sexual harassment is not tolerated here.

ME: What are you talking about? I got a coupon for free panties and I came to claim them.

MANAGER: Let me see that.

...

MANAGER: You must have purchased something here recently.

ME (as I begin to stroke mannequin nipples again): No. Never. I hate this store.

MANAGER: Then, I think it was a mistake that it was sent to you.

ME: So what? You're not going to honor it?

She looks at me puzzled.

ME: I need the number to a regional supervisor or something. And what's your name, expect to see this on channel 3's consumer protection news segment soon.

MANAGER: You can have the free panties. You pervert.


So, I'm a size XL. I only wore them once, though. You might think that I never meant to wear them, and I only did once out of principle, but that's not the case. I would have worn them all the time, I love free stuff. But they are very uncomfortable. I have to wear them backwards, or else I get man camel toe, but backwards, I get a constant wedgie. Stupid panties.

This post has no flow

I don't understand why everyone sends e-mail chain letters as attachments. If the words aren't there when I open the initial message, I most often hit delete. Which is really quite a shame. Who really knows what goodness the message might be sending. Hell, the other day I got an chain e-mail that Mother Theresa started in 1952! I didn't even think she did that sort of thing or that the internet and e-mail were around back then. Damn, Al Gore is older than I thought.

I noticed Michelle ordered some things from some places.

I see the confirmation e-mails in the in-box, among the chain letters about dying children and Hail Marys. I guess her new job is spending my money.

Some guy bought my old couch, i.e. MY old couch, for $150 and I told Michelle I need the money for important things like a new electric bass, or maybe candy and Batmen, but she says it's going towards the bill on the new couch she already bought that magically appeared at MY house (yeah, I'm borrower #1, technically the bank still owns my house) when I got home from work one day. (That was a long sentence.) I work and she eats Bon Bons all day.

I think she's been watching Oprah or some other daytime talk show. All hope I had of her one day getting off her ass again is gone now. Sheesh...

Gretchen Memorys is really beautiful, one day you'll see. And the Oilers won 4-3 so I can to bed now, but just who the fuck is Erlend Øye?

I think the worms in my head are finally starting to take majority control. Send transmission from the One Armed Scissor.

Hey, some advice if you want to be a better person: Don't steal pictures of your new football from other people's websites.

One time, at band camp, someone wrote me an e-mail and signed it with "piece." Piece of what? I still wonder...it keeps me awake at night. I was going to sign-off this post with that very word, but opted for something different.


Go Away.

Letters are in words, (and bitches in my hot tub!!)

So, we all know there are letters in words. Like the © in £ubb3® or the @ in §naffeckg.

But what about letters that sound like words. For example, if you say the letters MT it sounds like the word empty.

I can think of few, but I wonder how many we can come up with. Let's say that the words should be more or less regular words that you use everyday like higgagobbaboo! A few are a bit of a stretch, but I included them anyway because I can.

1 letter:
B = bee
C = sea, see
G = gee
I = eye
J = jay
P = pea
R = are
T = tea
U = you
Y = why

2 letters:
SA = essay
MT = empty
IV = ivy
EZ = easy
TP = tepee
BD = beady
OK = okay
ED = erectile disfunction
DK = decay
KG = cagey
NE = any
IC = icy
NV = envy
CD = seedy


3 or more letters:
NME = enemy
DVS = devious
SKP = escapee
TDS = tedious (a bit of a stretch)
XLNC = excellency


If we include numbers too, we can make even more words like B4 (before) and 4D (forty).

Give it a try.

Where's Anne?

Huh?

Officially Autumn

NFL football began tonight.

I know some people think college football is real football, and I'm slowly warming up to it, but unlike the NBA, no college team could hold a candle to even the worse NFL team. Never. Ever. Period. You can debate it all you want, but you simply have no weiner, so eat turds.

Watching only mere minutes of the game, I can tell Pittsburgh will not repeat as champs unless God wants them too. They are barely, and luckily, beating the lowly Miami Dolphins (yes, the dolphins still suck ass, if they can't whump up a Rothlisberger-less and Hines Ward-less Pittsburgh, they still suck.. If the Steelers go more then 3 weeks without those two they should lose at least 3 more games.)

The other big game this week is Manning vs. Manning. The Giants versus the Colts. First off, the Colts, even with Eli Manning as QB should beat the Giants, even if the Giants had Peyton as their QB. That being said, I am routing for the Giants because, 1. I like them, 2. The Colts are a false favorite-they always lose when it matters most.

Is it just me, or is Peyton Manning in a lot of commericals now? He's pretty col loooking (oh, look at that, one of the o's from cool made it's way into looking). He reminds me of Tom Miller. Maybe it's because both of them could punch right through my face easily.

I wish I was athletic. I barely even suck at sports. Maybe I'll get good at golf. Too bad video game sports don't count...oh wait, I suck at those too.

The nothing is coming.

Vacation is 9 days away. I can't wait. I will relax, and write stories and hunt buffalo in the nude.


I think I'm most looking forward to nothing.

Really. Nothing.

Doing nothing. Watching nothing. Thinking about nothing.

It'll be great. I'll wake up in the morning wearing nothing. Then I'll go for a jog, because everyone knows, the three most important days of the year to actually exercise are the first three days of vacation. I'll try to find a busy road to run the wrong way on, running inside of the white line, and crossing streets without looking. That's fun stuff.

I plan on not planning anything for vacation, but since I planned on that, I actually let myself down. I hate it when I'm actually able to do as I planned, which was to not plan, but since I did plan on not planning, I actually wasn't able to do as I planned. Geez... good thing I wasn't planning on thinking.

Maybe I'll play golf too. I like golf. Golf is a fun sport.

I like chips.

Yo Joe!

Shit.

I had heard of You Tube before, but never checked it out until my pal dMANb sent me a link to a video on that site. Not only is the site mostly crap, but it's also mostly copyright infringement. Regardless of that though, it has some freakin' funny stuff. I was able to find all sorts of crazy crapsticks GI Joe public service annoucements, reworked to be more accurate.

Here's an example:
Original here
Reworked here

Check them out, but don't bother if you never watched GI Joe, you'll miss most of the joke. This stuff never gets old.
And, remember knowing is half the battle.

GI Joe #1, "Look at your different colored hats!"
GI Joe #2, "You're not my friend."
GI Joe #3, "Holy Cow, I'm totally going so fast!"
GI Joe #4, "Pork Chop Sandwiches!"
GI Joe #5, "They wake the next day and they're on fire."
GI Joe #6, "Stop all the downloading!"
GI Joe #7, "Huh?"
GI Joe #8, "Who wants a body message?"
GI Joe #9, "Damn, these beats are so fresh!"
GI Joe #10, "We should totally hit it again."
GI Joe #11, I have no idea what they are saying but it's funny to laugh at people who are different then us

P.S. Don't watch these at work.
P.S.S. John DeStefano looks like a toad.
P.P.S.S Brewing this weekend, sweet.

The wild life in town is getting too close for comfort

There are all sorts of wild life that we've seen since we've moved to Homer Simpson, CT. In Shelbyville, we lived in a little condo, surrounded by asphalt and buildings. Now we are surrounded by trees, grasses, and wild animals, crikey. "Watch as I tea..." (I get the joke, if you do too, you are cool, maybe.)

So, last year, a bear came up and had a few brews with me. And then, throughout the spring, we had bunnies eatting our grass. This is a shot I got with our nightvision camera (that's why it's a little grainy) of a wild bunny eatting our grass.



You can see the crazed look in it's eye. And check out how much grass he's eatten already!

Here's another bunny that I was able to get a picture of during the day.




Then a week ago, a cougar took a crap on my rock wall.

Now there is all sorts of little frogs climbing on my house. I think they are ninjas, but I'm not really sure. This is a really picture of a real life frog.



Then it hopped on my hand...



It climbed up my arm...



And it hopped up my back...




Immediately after this picture was taken, the frog hopped on my head and bit my ear off. No wonder the bunnies aren't in our yard anymore...these crazy frogs ate them all. Now everyone at work calls me Vah Gogh, but now I can save money on earplugs when I play drums, since a standard pack will last twice as long.

We even have a snake living under a bush in the front of the house. One time I fed him some beer. He was slithering this way and that. He was all f&#ked up.

Michelle names all the creatures in our yard. The bunnies are named Marvin, Chiclettes, and Skittles. The cougar is named T.A.N.C.I.C (There Are No Cougars In Connecticut, according to the DEP.) The snake is named Squiggles, and every single frog is named Jubei.

I named the cow we had in our yard too. It was named steak tips. Yum!

Echo, (echo),(echo)

People who know me tend to know my name. If you're the revisiting, casual blog surfer, you've probably already figured out my name is Mike. For many years in a row, Michael has been in the top 10 most popular baby names. It makes sense since it is a cool name and people named Michael are smart, funny, witty and incredibly handsome. (Can you remember that chick named Michael? She was handsome too.) The fact that Michael is such a popular name is evident here at Meglo*Life since, in my department alone, there are 4 people, including me, named Mike.

The other day, I walked into the men's room to empty my bladder. As I walked in, I passed by another Mike washing his hand's at the sink. I said hello and headed to the urinal. At the urinal next me is another one of the Mike's. I said hi to him too. When I finished up, I washed my hands, because hand washing is the best way to prevent the spread of disease, and just then, the fourth Mike walked in. I said hello to him too. It went something like this:


Me (nodding my head): Mike

Mike: Mike

Me: Mike

Mike (to me): Mike

Mike (to Mike): Mike

Mike: Mike, hi.

Mike: Mike

Me: Mike

Mike: Hey Mike.

Mike: Mike

Mike: Mike.


Okay, that didn't really happen. But there are four Mike's where I work. Honestly, I hope that never does happen. I think if it were to occur, the universe might end.

Different, but not the same

I'm back from the dead.

I will tell you now, Hell is a hell of a lot hotter than they say it is. No joke.

I don't plan on going back there again. The experience has changed me. You'll notice it here, I'm sure. I'll still make you laugh if you think something I wrote is funny. I might make you cry too if I kick you in the nuts. Who knows?

It was funny, looking up passed all the flames, to see how most of you kept coming back even though I said I was done. You must have thought I was lying to you?

When I got back, my first thought was, "You are all losers. I will never post again just to prove that your repeated visits are a waste of time."

But then I thought, "You need me, and love me so I will go through the painful steps of posting so your life can have some meaning."

So this is for you all, not me. It's altruistic now. You're welcome.

Hopefully that's good enough.