Q's Legal Plea of Insanity

My Dedication to the King

2009-06-26T11:12:00.002-04:00

I remember the time when I fell in love, I was a stranger in Moscow and all I wanted to do was heal the world. I was at a jam after I had been working day and night, that’s when I saw this Liberian girl. She moved like a beauty queen from a movie scene, man was she dangerous!

This pretty young thing was such a dancing machine, her body moved in a way that said: give into me. She pointed at me and mouthed to get on the floor, I wanna rock with you. She said her name was Billie Jean from across the scene all I could say was that I was just someone in the dark. She said you are not alone now let’s burn this disco out.

The way we moved was with a force, the force from inside that made you want to scream. Our motions were an earth song, unbreakable yet off the wall. If sweat was blood, then blood was on the dance floor, blood was on the ceiling.

Everytime I looked into her eyes, I could only express Todo Mi Amor Eres Tu. She smiled and said don’t stop till you get enough as she shook her body down to the ground.

The girl gives me butterflies, I told her I was scared of the moon she said you rock my world. Love is not black or white as I promised I’ll be there if she falls again. She wanted to change the world, I felt we are the world.

Now the girl is mine but as a smooth criminal I knew I would always be bad as I found myself in the back with dirty Diana. I swore that Billy Jean was not my lover she’s just a girl that thinks I am the one. Diana gave me the monkey business smile and asked if I wanna be startin something as we eased on down the road.

Now my love is on the line since Billy Jean asked me who is it? Is it a friend of mine? I screamed baby be mine, it’s human nature. Billy Jean told me to beat it.

Now I’m in a constant state of shock because she’s outta my life and all I can do is talk to the man in the mirror and ask him to change his ways.

Now for some Funk in your Junk

2007-07-10T16:08:00.000-04:00

I will tell you this, ain’t no funk in your junk when you crunk up:
The Funk!

Music will always take care of your junk. For me, it is funk music that gets my junk to that next level.

Disclaimer: Funk music is only good in moderation, just like absinthe and porn.

You could be in a junk mood or your junk ain’t feelin’ tha funk and all you need is to crunk up the funk –“increase the volume on your bose speaker system,” for my ‘older’ readers.

It gets you going, in a good mood, randy, or motivated when trying to punch through a day of work. Hell ALL of the above for whatever up-mood you are after.

Don’t believe me about funk music? I dare you to grab some Curtis Mayfield Superfly and Pusherman when you need to punch through some housework or office work. Hell, don’t even get me started on James Brown! Do I even need to mention Commodores?

I know, I know! Commodores was a spring board for Lionel Richie which eventually evolved to Nicole Richie and her rake of a “I can make a ‘movie’, drive drunk, go to jail, cry and be let out for crying cause there’s no crying in minimum security prison” friend who brought us the ever so famous “that’s hot,” phrase… but seriously!

Respect to L-Rich for Dancing on the ceiling. Throw on some Brickhouse or Jungle Boogie and you got yourself a party my friend. And just tell me, tell me you don’t start bouncin’ in your chair!

You see… there are twelve distinct stages of music. Yes I said stages and not categories, read on!

Blah-ground. Ish you throw on in the… background and keep on keepin’ on with whatever the hell you were doing –classical music usually
Hypnotique/Mindless/Idtss Idtss Idtss. The music that you put on when you are doing a mindless or repetitive task all day –house, trance and all that Swede laced dookie. YA YOU HEARD ME, DJ Tiesto and Moby (call me Ishmael) Dick! Ya I said it!
Back in the day. This is the reminiscent stage. The track that makes you do that movie thang where you gaze off into oblivion remembering when you were kings and queens and how sweet it all was.

From here on in, I will let you insert musical genre as each person has their definition of back in the day or other corresponding genres for the list that follows.

Toe/Finger Tap. The early symptoms often go unnoticed. It starts off with your big toe nodding in a squishing motion to the music. Then next your foot starts to tap in rhythmic slowed down heart beat of a bear in hibernation motion. Before you know it your index finger is tapping in correspondence. To an observer, it appears that your your toe is morse coding with your finger.

This is when the visible body revolution starts. First, it’s your index finger, and then your middle finger joins in on the morse code tapping. Wait a minute, bam! Your whole hand is tapping in a semi drum beat on the table or your lap –but still in heart beat rhythm.

Hand Drum. At this point you become conscious that the rhythm has taken over your hand and slowly taking over your body. All you can do is… let it happen.

This is where the remaining stages emerge taking over all the way to the Woo Stage. Go onnnnnn…..

Slow shake to a sway. As your random playlist comes to that song, you know… one of those tracks that gets your head shake ever so slightly in a no, no, no! Don’t stop that sweet track! A symptom of a slow shake to a sway song is that you blink for a longer period –basically you have your eyes closed and your coworkers are wondering if you are sleeping or receiving instructions from the dark one. They then realize that you are shaking your head and swaying because there is a cool breeze which is odd because you are indoors most likely in a maze of cubicles. You are on a next tip if you are swaying like Stevie Wonder, you on the next level or… drunk at work.
Hum Muzik. I think this one is self explanatory. Although a disclaimer should be put here because sometimes you hum too loud breaking the hold the rhythm has on you and you are back at square one. Warning this cycle can happen over and over again where you go through stages one to seven throughout the day wondering when it will end –much like purgatory.
Head Nod. You find yourself nodding, bobbing to the lyrics and the beat. Your hand drumming is in unison with your toe tapping, hell your other hand has joined the party at this point. You realize this because you clap every now and then –you try and play it off by just softly snapping your fingers. That doesn’t last long because rhythm is a dancer and it has got you by your sweet musical cajones.
Shoulder Shake. What’s this? Why are my shoulders shaking? Why am I throwing in a random clap as my head is bobbing? Why did I just snap my fingers? Oh! They’ve got you now fishy. There you were thinking you could nibble at the worm without getting the hook, without letting THEM know they’ve got you. Did you not realize that was their plan?
Booty Shake. I didn’t realize I had ants in my pants… Why else is my chair moving like so? Why do I have the urge to get up? Damn you rhythm! Damn you so so sweet track. This, my friend is the point of no return.
The MIMS. You have now realized that you are possessed. Possessed by the one they call Muzak. All you can say is a dark prayer of MIMS:

Music is my saviour. For without you music, I would not make it through the day. MIMS, I ask you to release me from your hold for I must complete the tasks at hand.

Woo! Muzak! The song ends and you think the worst is over. I can get back to work without drifting off again. Spoke too soon! Like a green beret commando in the jungles of ‘Nam, this sneaks up on you and slices you in the back leaving you with a tingle that makes you shout “WOO!” Some have been heard to say “Woo! That’s my jam,” or “turn that $#!& up!” Easiest way to describe this level is to think of Michael Jackson’s (pre-crazy Michael) Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough where he even says:

Lovely is the feelin' now
Fever, temperatures risin' now
Power (ah power) is the force the vow
That makes it happen
It asks no questions why…WOO!

You know it’s too late because the force has got you and you don’t care who sees you singing or dancing because it wasn’t an exorcism when you said the MIMS prayer but rather, a calling for the force to take you.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this has been the 12 Stages of the Force. The 13^th Stage?

I am afraid you may go insane. Be driven to grab people around you to dance with. You know who you are older lady at the party/bar pulling innocent stander-bys to the dance floor.

The 13^th Dimension is one we do not talk of, for to even mention it will result not only in you becoming awkward Elaine Benice style dancing with the foot kick and the white man overbite. You will also find yourself girating against others that previously repulsed you. Next thing you know you are on You Tube doing a dance with a light saber and you become internet famous as the part two to the fat kid doing the Star Wars dance.

Beware the 13^th Dimension because it will morph you into the offspring that would result of mating the Star Wars kid and William Hung.

+ =

I'm onto you...Mr & Mrs 80 year old driver

2007-06-22T16:02:00.000-04:00

My name is Mufasa Mumbasa from Kinshasa. What is this ting you call dunk? Coach say lay it, I lay eet.
Pardon? Well, don’t do it again, go on, git!

Dear 80 year old driver,

I am onto you sir. Onto you and your boat of a car and polyester checkered nipple high trousers. I know you are not oblivious to your surroundings as you drive and cut me off.

I know because I have been observing you through the rear view and I can see you have full capacity of your functions. So don’t act like you are in your own little world or searching for something that is not there right after you cut me off and you hear my horn of fury blasting you.

I realize it is a conspiracy perpetrated by the elderly of this world. You know the drill: locate a happy driver, wait at a corner until they are almost in the intersection, cut them off, causing them to slam on the breaks or swerve to avoid you eliciting anger, panic and fury.

As they pull up next to you, pretend you are not even the one driving, pretend you are in your muskoka chair at the Gold Bond medicated powder resort you overly skin abundant jackass!

Studies show that the elderly and women are in the fewest accidents. Sure, but they cause the most accidents –hammer on breaks, swerve randomly, you know who you are.

I get disturbed for an instant then a smile creeps over my face because I realize they are applying the Mufasa Kinshasa mind trick. This was something I used to do all the time in highschool when I am about to get in trouble by authority figures –teachers, referees, “white people.”

Easiest way to explain it is from my experience playing basketball in highschool.
You see, you are not allowed to dunk during warm-ups because it is considered intimidation and unnecessary aggression directed at the other team and you would be awarded a technical foul –not a good way to start the game.

Well, you are allowed to break this rule if the referees are not there for warm-ups and they often come in towards the end of warm-ups to give the players a chance to do their thing. I’m sure most of you can atest to the fact that when you are doing your thing, you often get carried away and sometimes call out the wrong girls’ name…I mean…you get the point. So there I am dunking, yelling, bumping chests, slapping fives, etc.

Teammate: “Q! Ref, ref, ref…too late”
Ref: “You, number 32, get over here.”
Me (in the Strongest West African Accent possible): “Guud aftanuun sa! Wot kyan nai do fo U?”
Ref: “What is your name?”
Me (SWAA): “Mai neim is Mufasa Mumbasa of Kinshasa, my fada is Simbalu Mumbasa. We heil from…”
Ref: “Ya, that’s nice but listen, you know you are not supposed to be dunking.”
Me (SWAA): “Donkey?”
Ref: “Dunking”
Me (SWAA): “Down in key? Yes, I play post in key. I yam fowod senta like Hakeem de Dream of Houston. Do you know he ees not from Amereeka? He shake and…”
Ref: “No! Dunking!”
Me (SWAA): “Wot is dis down-kee? Coach se lay eet up, put eet in basket. Dat is wot I doo, I don’t know down-key. I will ask my broda, Rafiku Mumbasa, he sei I play like Hakeem and shake and bake.”
Ref: Oh, nevermind, get back to your warm-ups
Me (SWAA): Tenk you sa. Good luck and God Bless. (inside voice: suckaaaaaaa)!

This is the same technique I find is applied worldwide. ESPECIALLY by store owners. You are debating buying something, they talk and coax you into it and at times correcting your English until you finally buy the product.

You come back a couple of days later because the product is faulty and all of a sudden, they don’t speak a word of English or are oblivious to even working there…hmmmm.

In case you didn’t realize it, I threw a lil Disney in there to see if they would pick it up but nay!

I’m smiling cause I’m yelling inside…

2007-04-26T16:08:00.000-04:00

You know how someone tells a joke but it ain’t funny or laugh outloud funny? The kind where they wait for your reaction and you say you are laughing on the inside?

Well this is kinda like that. Think of it this way, you are walking down the street, driving, whatever and you see something you would love to comment on but you keep on walking? And the person keeps on doing what they doing cause ain’t nobody sayin’ nuttin’ so donkey face keeps on keeping on! Dammit sometimes you just find yourself commenting in your head about it. If you are like me, you are yelling on the inside, yelling stuff like:

Drive or use the phone but not both
Damn you are not seriously eyeing me up are you?
If you are cold maybe you should have put some clothes on!
Listen, you ain’t Jay-Z, you ain’t famous, take off those damn sunglasses. You are indoors you inbred goat massager!
Really? That's what you are wearing?
If you are going to walk slowly, stick to one side of the sidewalk or risk getting a fist in the back of the head.
Eye me up one more time and I’ma hog tie you and let Quagmire go to work on you.
Pull your pants up
Wow you ARE ugly!
Straighten out your hat
Dammit girl, if it ain’t a Ho Show, don’t wear the Ho Gear!
This is not a negotiation stare, move out of my way, I’m bigger than you!
Oh no? Well I guarantee I am faster and all I need is one quick flying fist.
Wow, you are brave to be holding her hand in public.
The only reason I am looking at your girl is to figure out which of the two of you is on the losing end of this bet.
Clutching your purse a little tighter as you walk past me is not gonna stop me from taking it if I really want to.
No one called you, no one wants to call you, hell your number is disconnected; put your damn phone away.
Wow, we should makeout
Yup that’s my package, UPS delivered. I signed for it.
Hellooooo my eyes are up here!
At what time in the morning do you dress yourself cause clearly you are not awake when you do.
You would make a handsome man cause being a so called hot girl is not working out well for you.
Yeah I smiled at your girl, only cause she is about to dump your ass and she knows that I know.
Short people, stop swinging your arms so high when you walk. Especially in a busy area.

The Cosby Clause

2007-04-13T09:42:00.000-04:00

The Cosby Clause

I strongly believe in the first insight that dictates that we need to be conscious that the coincidences in life are not coincidences at all –things happen for a reason, in threes, etc.

I thought I would point the first insight because it shaped what today’s blog would be. And today being Friday the 13th, it seems obvious now having three strong cues. After getting the third cue it happened, just as surely as the repercussions of Tina back talking Ike, it hit me. The final cue to write the Cosby clause hit me. It hit me so hard I thought Jack Bauer just pistol whipped me like my name was Nina Myers and y’all know Bauer hates Nina! I had often thought/stated the Cosby Clause but today it seemed necessary to write it down.

I will start with the cues that led up to this point. The first cue occurred in between my comatose states when I was sick earlier this week. I came across an episode of the Cosby’s; I thought why not, give it a chance. By the end of the episode I was beaming like a damn fool that just learned how to pee standing up. The second came about when a colleague dropped by my office yesterday and mentioned that he had been chatting with an old friend of mine and they had chatted about me for a bit. You see we sometimes call that old friend the Cos because he smiles just like the Cos and hell you’d need to meet him because he is the Cos. The third and final cue came when I was reading the paper on the subway this morning when I came across an article about the Cos performing at a casino in the great white north. Bam there it is, me asking Tyson if he was castrated as a teenager before he was able to develop a man voice, the knock out cue! Well, I know most of you don’t like to read for too long so I will just get into it.

The Cosby Clause states that:
No matter what kind of mood you are in, there is no way you can walk away from a Cosby Show episode without at least beaming intrinsically.

Basically, if you are feeling crappy or just blah, watch an episode of the Cosby Show. If you don’t walk away from that episode beaming ear to ear or warmed up to your cockles or even your sub-cockles, then you weren’t watching the Cos. You saw the Cos but you weren’t watching the Cos.

I could go on to tell you about how it was one of the longest running family sitcoms or try to explain a zerbert or you tell me how Denise went all badass. But honestly, no matter what you have to say, the show gets you mesmerized from the get go. As a kid I remember loving the opening dance credits hell I still do the Cosby dance at weddings!

Random ish to do in the limbo hours of a Friday

2007-03-30T16:27:00.000-04:00

Aah another Friday. Well I thought I’d pick it up where we left off with the randomness that comes with a Friday. I like to be unique but like most people, I like my Fridays like I like lemonade that cool refreshing drink on a blissful sunny day. Wow what an analogy or do I just have waaaay too much crack (tee hee crack)?

Anyways back to Fridays. You see most people look forward to their Fridays as it marks the beginning and the end, similar to a nice meal. The end of your hunger and the beginning of a momentary everlasting euphoria. Wow the horse crack is really kicking in!

Speaking of crack, here are some more after 3pm words that become naughty: spread, crack, rear, harass, thick, salami

Okay okay I digress!!!

You ever notice that there is a period in time before the euphoria of the weekend kicks in? The period of time where there is nothing happening but the looking forward to something happening? It is the time immediately after work to the journey home to the time following dinner to the expecting company or plans to begin regarding Freaky Fridays. It usually consists of a couple of hours and this is where you are in a limbo stage with nothing to do.

Well here are some ideas of ways to kill that limbo period. Some of these also help in getting through the 3pm funk on a Friday:

Go see an early show of a movie. As soon as it starts, stand up in front of the room and declare “I’m going to get some popcorn, anybody need anything?”
If in a cubicle, fill a squeeze bottle, squirt it into a mug then refill. Time how long it takes for the first neighbor to go to the washroom.
Go shopping, buy a shirt that is almost identical to the uniform the store staff across the hall wears. Immediately put it on, disrobe at the cash if possible. Walk across the hall and start giving people advise on their shopping.
Call people you know are still working to discuss how tough it is not to have anything to do at the moment.
Start a conversation with someone using only the lines from a song or the titles of songs throughout the whole conversation
If you happen to be in a meeting after 3pm on a Friday (which is just WRONG), mutter that’s exactly they want us to do.
If in a meeting post 3pm, hold your hands in a praying manner. If queried, tell them you are praying no one will notice how much you want the meeting to be over
Start a random standing ovation for any donkey that just got off the phone if they were using it on the bus or other public area.
Inter-office mail yourself something and postmark it for the next week Friday
Take a walk through the office or mall with your fly wide open and your hands on your sides with a huge grin on your face
Walk backwards past coworkers' offices often

Random Tangents Part IV

2007-03-23T15:07:00.000-04:00

I dare you not to think of a penguin
B: Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?
P: I think so, Brain, but where are we going to find a duck and a hose at this hour?
Seth McFarlane must be reading my blogs because a few weeks later, there was an episode where Bill Clinton does some…”convincing.” Even Peter gets convinced.
Jack Bauer is STILL gangsta!
Who the hell cares which celebrities are in and out of rehab? Does it change your life in the least bit? If you answered yes, you need to get your ass beat.
You have no idea how much money goes through Vegas on a Friday alone.
It is virtually impossible to picture the queen taking a dookie
This? It’s my package, UPS delivered and I signed for it.
Is Nelly Furtado hot or damn hot? Talk amongst yourselves.
82% of women ages 23-36 voted Nelly Furtado as the celebrity they would definitely make-out with.
I made up 100% of the previous fact.
98% of you are now thinking of making out with Nelly Furtado.
Eva Mendes glistening is just too much for a man to handle -watch GhostRider and you will understand my statement.
Happy summer time mutha%@#s

Words that sound naughty after 3pm on a Friday

2007-03-23T14:55:00.000-04:00

Well it’s Friday and approaching the mind checkout hour so I thought I would help you kill the last lil bit of the day at work. A lot of people tend to relax and be business focused during the week and get naughty on the weekend.

Now this is where the Freudian Slip overlap exists. Seeing a lot of minds checkout for the weekend at about this time, it is pointless to have meetings anytime after 3pm on a Friday because you start to get giddy. Giddy like a school girl going to a Justin Timberlake concert, hell half you women still get giddy like that.

Okay okay back on track! What I am trying to say is that if you have a meeting after 3pm on a Friday, there will be giggles because your mind would have already switched into weekend mode and words and phrases that you would not have flinched at on a Tuesday morning elicit the most random reactions on a Friday afternoon. Words that seemed harmless at the beginning of the week now sound naughty.

Words that just sound naughty:

Orifice
Aural
Odor
Package
Junk
Funk
Pleasure
Mad Cow
Winch (not wench)
Snatch (the Olympic term)
Coxswain
Spread
Unit
Reciprocate
Duck
Blue
Hardened
Johnson
Swap

So many more, be creative try using them in a conversation in your next 3pm meeting.

That's Enough Charmin!

2007-03-16T11:45:00.000-04:00

I know I know, I went delinquent for a week. I have a good excuse though...my iPod died and it acts as my mobile harddrive. Well we are back in bizniz biznatch!

So I remember hearing this joke way back in the day –ala Eddie Murphy Raw.
A bear and a rabbit are taking a dookie in the woods.

The bear looks down and says “aw crap [no pun intended], excuse me Mr. Rabbit, but do you ever have problems with doo doo sticking to your fur?”

“Why no not at all Mr. Bear.”

So the bear picks up the rabbit and wipes his backside with him.

Well my tangent here is about those damn charmin and cashmere toilet paper commercials that are on every five seconds showing an effing bear taking a crap in the woods!

Two, if you did, did the bear look for charmin by name to wipe his backside

or he just used the tree and wiggled off the excess?

Seriously! If you are going to use imagery to convey a message, make the t-p out as soft cute lil bunnies and have the bear grab him by the ears and do his business! That would be more realistic. I mean come on, this commercial is just plum dumb!

And another thing!
Who the hell wants to wipe their backside with expensive material?

Last I checked, I don’t remember going, “hmm, two-ply is great and all but what can really do the job is a nice soft sweater. Come to think of it, lemme take of my nice cashmere sweater and wipe my backside making sure I use the chest area of the sweater in a stripy motion so that it matches the stripes on my sweater and the corn can be lil buttons or snacks for later!”
–too graphic? That’s the idea stupid bears, swans and cashmere aka cottonelle or whatever you are calling your selves these days you son of a b*tch!

Jack vs James vs Bill –the ultimate battle

2007-02-16T11:55:00.000-05:00

Aight candy a$$, it’s Friday so I will keep this like your drinks -watered down and easy to swallow –no need for deep thought on these ones genius!

I was riding the subway to work today and I am looking around because you know, no one wants to make eye contact on the subway…it’s just awkward. hat’s next after the eye contact? Hi, what’s your name? Subway it often? Anyways…back on track. So I am looking around and I notice these eyes staring at me, it’s Jack. Jack Bauer! You know how they have those ads up top? The rectangular ones? Well, there he was in the poster advertising 24. And I start thinking, man, Jack Bauer is gangsta!!!

As we pull into the next stop, we come to a complete stop at a Casino Royale poster. RIGHT UNDERNEATH THE JACK BAUER POSTER!!! –I mean if this isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is. So I start thinking…James Bond, Jack Bauer, James Bond, Jack Bauer! It makes sense…or does it? Could Jack Bauer be the modern day tv James Bond? Same initials, exact same amount of letters in their names…coincidence? I think not. But then again, some would argue that one is tougher than the other so I start to wonder who would be the ultimate gangsta?

But to make it even spicier I decided to consult some folks (Thanks Martian and Hammer for the input) and one of them (Martian) throws a real life gangsta into the mix to spice things up…Bill Clinton!

Well with this being the all-star weekend, I will play this out like an all-star battle:

Jack Bauer is gangsta!
Bond. James Bond…need I say more? Who introduces themselves by their last name first? That is just gangsta! I mean the man revolutionized pimpilism by this phrase alone.
Clinton…shoot where do I start?
Jack Bauer doesn’t even need to interrogate his suspects. “I ain’t saying $@&%! Wait a minute, are you Jack? Jack Bauer? Oh crap…well here is everything I know. Hell my social security number is...”
Bond. James Bond. Martini, shaken not stirred.
Billy could walk right up to you grab your drink outta your hand and you would probably apologize for not giving it to him sooner.
Bauer is deadliest with a standard issue sidearm…can fire off 50 rounds without reloading.
Bond is deadliest with his Johnson. Think about it, anyone he sleeps with ends up getting killed.
Bill is deadliest with a cigar.
Bauer’s negotiation technique works by stepping in a room blasting everyone in sight, finding the last guy that is barely alive and squeezing him for info.
Bond loads his wrist watch with some sleep/truth serum, shoots you with it and then proceeds to sodomize you cause let’s face it, Bond can only go 23 minutes without sleeping with something. You feel the need to tell him everything you know cause, you just shared such a beautiful moment, although you don’t remember it…besides he promised he would call but only cause he knows you are about to be shot by your government for “sleeping with the enemy.”
Big Clint himself would probably light a spiff with the terrorist suspect. But wouldn’t inhale! Get you all messed up, whip out his saxophone, serenade you to give it up and bomb the ish outta your village while violating that black lil strapless number you have on, well had on.
You will never see Bond not clean shaven, even after being trapped in a coffin for five days.
If you ever see Bauer shaving, you are about to die.
Clint’s facial hair doesn’t grow out of fear of being violated DNA styles.
Clinton could walk into your house and just do his thing with your wife, daughter, mother and you would give him a high five cause come on…can you really get mad at Bill? Think about it, if he can keep a hardcore ganstaret like Hilary at bay, he can sweet talk a turnip.

Yo, I think there will be a part two to this playoff. This was just the skills competition. There may even be ringers brought in for this all-star battle. Oh and don't even mention Chuck!

The Insanities of Public Washrooms

2007-02-12T15:58:00.000-05:00

Do’s & Don’ts of Dookie
-when doing doodoo at a public washroom

Okay okay we have all seen the email about urinal etiquette, this deals with something else…dookie etiquette in a public washrooms.

I was reading some postings on National Beatdown Day and one of the girls (Amanda!) wrote a note about people not flushing after using the public washroom like they are leaving a gift for the next person. That is when I remembered some odd things that I have encountered over time at public washrooms.

There was this one time, I’m at a hole in the wall restaurant, the washroom is located in the scary-dingy basement. Needless to say it is very quiet and awkward down there. With that said, I decide it needs to be a quick in and out, who knows when Jason is going to jump out and slash Johnson. All of a sudden I hear “mmm, mmm,” and of course you can’t bail ‘cause it turns out to be the longest pee of your life! It dies out, I give Johnson two shakes cause anymore than that is just too much.

All of a sudden in a Purple Rain Prince type voice going from deep to high pitched, I hear “ooh, that’s nice, yeah.” I am thinking at this point I don’t care if I pee on myself, I gotsta get outta here, I don’t know where the voice is coming from and I don’t see anyone in this one semi-burnt bulb broom closet of a washroom.

As I am washing my hands, the voice comes back “so you wanna…oh wait I got someone on the other line!” WHO THE HELL uses the phone while crunching it out in a public washroom? What you do at home is your business but come on!!! And who the hell wants to be talking to someone when they are busy making brown betty?

You think that is weird? There was a time when this chap was msning while crunching…you couldn’t wait that 4.8minutes?

Really, times have changed. There was a time when businessmen would take the newspaper into places like that, hell even trade sections with the guy next to them. This was not right then, and it sure as hell ain’t right now.

So I thought I would write some do’s and don’ts for public dookie:

Absolutely under no circumstances should you be making/taking calls while doing a dookie.
Your laptop should is not required when doing the doo.
There is no need to take pictures!
Talking to the guy in the next stall is strictly forbidden! Cheering him on is acceptable on Tuesdays.
Singing probably is not the best of ideas, humming is only tolerable if using a urinal
DO NOT break eye contact or the eye barrier if made when using the urinal.
Never ask the guy after coming out of his stall if it worked out well for him.
“Hey, how’s it going? My name is …, looks like we are going to be neighbors for a while.” is not acceptable when in the next stall.
Leaving your stall door wide open so you can chat with passerby’s is punishable by being peed on.
Complimenting someone on their shoes or pants shows you are not there for the business at hand –no pun intended

National Beat Down Day

2007-02-02T06:31:00.000-05:00

National Beat Down Day

So there I was on the shuttle from Kansas City International Airport to the hotel with my boss when I got the inspiration for this blog.

Now this intro story is one that you have heard many a time, hell it has been beaten to death. Actually, scratch that, it was beaten to death revived and then beaten to death…again!

We are on the shuttle with about 10 other people when the lady behind us decides to whip it out and use it. One of those awkward situations where it gets whipped out in public or in a closed space, someone should say something but no one does. Hell in this day and age where it has been talked to death, it is not even awkward, it is in between awkward and strange. It is more awkward than the day your grandma kissed you goodnight, open-mouthed; but not as strange as the day she slipped in the tongue.

I mean think about it, when was the last time someone whipped out their cell phone in a bus, movie, meeting and started talking louder than everyone else there? Hell, not only one phone call of two minutes but a series of calls all lasting at least ten minutes. By the end of the ride, I and all other passengers knew her whole family, their trials, tribulations and how much Jesus loves them!

With each call it became more irritating, like the same old joke you hear from the same person five times a week. I started trying to think of my happy place but all that could come to mind were other irritating situations similar to the current.

That is when I decided to invent a day called National Beatdown Day. A day where you can beatdown all those people that do those irritating things that should not be happening in this day and age:

People that change lanes without signaling
People that come to a complete stop before turning right, on a green light!
People that use the word “like” every other word.
People that leave their ringers on in a movie, use vibrate.
People that take the call.
People that make the call in the movie!
People that expect you to hold the door open for them because you got there first.
People that ask you about the weather. How about the damn weather?
People that end a statement with an inflection on the end word making it a question without it being a question?
People who pontificate.
People who feel their credentials wins debates… “I should know, I’m a PhD.” Is that right J-nuts? Well you should know you are about to get the dreaded flying fist then!
Political advertising…mudslinging! Run a campaign damnit! Tell me what you will do for me.
Bob Saget, Mike Sidenberg!
Regis Phillbin…not as much as Kelly Rippa! No one likes your son! He will be known as King Poopy Pants through highschool.
People who say “no offense,” before saying something downright rude.
Kevin Federline followed by Justin Timberlake –although d*$& in a box is pretty damn funny
Creators of: Survivor, Amazing Race, Dancing with the Stars… You get the idea!
Bad customer service at a restaurant
Rude/arrogant retail/mall workers.

Let’s have some new clichés

2007-02-02T06:28:00.000-05:00

I’m just going to dive right into this one, no foreplay or teasing, just straight ranting! Seriously, who thought up some of these sayings and how the heck do they stick? How did they become clichés? Seriously!

It’s like peeing in the wind. Who the hell pees into the wind? Do you like the feel of your own pee all over you? Sure it keeps you warm but that doesn’t last and you end up smelling like like like PEE!!!
Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today. Sucka, there wouldn’t be procrastination if we did it today now would there?
It it ain’t broke, don’t try and fix it. If I don’t throw an elbow, ya best not try and catch it ya donkey faced jacka$$
You make a better door than a window. I’ll tell you what…you make a better punching bag than a kicking stump.
Watched pot never boils. Umm…I think you are supposed to light it and smo…oh wait it’s supposed to be A watched pot. My bad!
Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me. Have you ever had a dictionary thrown at you? Better yet, tell you what, let’s go to the library and I will push a few stacks over and you tell me if it hurts. You over read bookworm!
What's good for the goose is good for the gander. Umm…one word…pate.
Time flies when you're having fun. I have no problem with this one but shouldn’t there be an antithesis to this that reads: Time crawls when you are not having a ball?
Sick as a dog. Last I checked most dogs aren’t sick…often. So what the hell? If the saying was something about being as happy as a puppy or something like that, then I would understand.

Soup for President

2007-02-01T19:34:00.000-05:00

So let me ask you this…do you like soup? Does it warm you? Does it warm you right down to your cockles? Maybe even your sub-cockles? Is it nutritious? Well yes sucka it is! Soup is good, hell soup is great! As a matter of fact in some countries soup is a meal.

Back when I was in ‘Nam I got introduced to a great soup-meal called Pho! Pho is a great soup-meal that warms me to my sub-cockles! It contains all the nutrients and other ish that you need for a balanced diet. And when ya want a quick laugh you can always ask for mo’ pho.

Alright Q, where the hell is this tangent going? I’m glad you asked, allow me to retort.

They say soup is a lunch or dinner thing. Why is that? And who the hell are “They?” How come we can’t have soup for breakfast? Don’t believe me? Next time you go to a breakfast joint try ordering the soup and see what happens. I want soup dammit!

They say breakfast is the cornerstone of a productive day and there are things that add up to the ‘complete breakfast.’ Seriously who are “they” and how did “they” decide on what makes up a complete breakfast? I want soup dammit! Okay, okay, let’s examine this a little closer. I guess for a complete breakfast you need proteins, carbs, and grains –kick in the pants is optional. We got it all pho ya –sorry about the pun…no I’m not.

Think about this, “they” say breakfast should have the following components, something warm/hot (and I don’t meal oatmeal dammit), some liquidy side and meats/eggs. In this day and age, we always want the quick fix cause we are “always on the run” and we are just too plain lazy to make a proper meal. Now for the brainstorm, wouldn’t it be ideal if there was something that combined all these elements into one? Something your lazy ass doesn’t use a lot of dishes to make? Something you can have in one sitting without feeling guilty cause you skipped your iron for the day?

Cue the lightning, there it is, can you feel it? SOUP! Think about it, you can have everything in soup and make it healthy and you can be on your way.

Washes while you pee

2006-09-26T15:56:00.000-04:00

Ladies and Gentlemen: What I propose to you today is indeed a revolution. A revolution on hygiene, a revolution on common sense. Today is the dawn of a new age!

Alright Q, where are you going with this?

Let me start by asking the following question. Gentlemen, what is our most prized possession? It is worth more to us than any amount of money, cars or women. Although men often state they are willing to part with portions of this possession for a rather attractive woman. Our junk! Think about it, ain’t no way in hell are you gonna go on Fear Factor, Joe Roegan offer you a million bucks to use a rusty butter knife to chop ya junk off and eat it. HELL NO!!! A toe, maybe. As a matter of fact, screw Joe Roegan!

I will repeat it, Howie damn Mandel can say “I’ma give you five mil to chop off ya junk, one mil for justa nut. Deal or no deal?” Heeellll no! Here is a new deal Howie, I’ma give you one mil and a swift righteous kick in the pants if you shut the eff up and never appear on tv again!

Now that I have established what our prized possession is, I can begin. It is our prized possession yet we sometimes don’t treat it right. Follow me as I paint this picture:

You just walk in a club, you give props to all your peeps including Dave the dope-fiend that don’t know the meaning of the word soap. Hell you in the club and you even give rubs to that girl that you know prob caught something at least twice.

You make your way to the bar and order that nice rum and coke or Shirley Temple if you a candy ass. As you wait for your drink, you hear your track come over the speakers and you start drumming away on the bar as you wait. You get your drink, pay for it and go do your thing.

Now you need to go to the washroom. You get to the washroom and are about to unleash the dragon then you decide to look at the evidence:

You shook hands with nuff people and who knows who just finished picking what. Hell, who didn’t wash their hands? Can you remember?
Then you were drumming on the bar, the sticky, gritty, grimy bar that someone prob yakked on 20mins earlier.
You handled money and I don’t even need to tell you how many people handled that money before it got in your hands.
Then you went to the washroom, the door handle was wet…ewww. You got a hi-five from the drunken fool on his way out.
And now you are about to handle your junk...

There is the evidence. Now think…how clean are your hands? Not very right? Then why in the world would you handle your junk after such abuse to your hands? You are literally shaking your junk with everyone else’s hands including that grimy dude that you know prob doesn’t wash everyday.

The revolution is simple, wash your hands before you pee! Sounds easy enough right?
Keep that in mind next time you are at the club, public places, hell even at home. What/who were you doing before you went to the washroom and insist on abusing your best friend. Reduce junk abuse, wash before you pee!

Brown's Law

2006-09-11T14:31:00.000-04:00

Article XIV -Brown's Law
This definitive work may have been referred to or inferred in the past. However, it was never articulated until the summer of 2004 also known as the summer of Brown.

This law makes sense on so many levels and yet it is so simple. I will preface by saying, to every rule there are exceptions…or are there?

Although the idea behind the law has existed since before the booty call which dates back to the ancient Romans; the law was articulated by a visionary who shall be referred to simply as Mr. Brown. With Mr. Brown being the father of the law, it was hence since named in his honour.

Brown's Law reads:
A heterosexual man and a heterosexual woman are very close friends only because one of the two is sexually attracted to the other.
In lame man's words: a guy and a girl are only tight because one of them wants to hit it.

Think about it, that girl you are/were tight with, you would drop anything you were doing to help her out, rain or shine. You want to convince who that you didn’t want to hit it? What you didn’t realize was that all your efforts of being there and being one she could count on further put you in the dreaded friendship zone, the I like you…as a friend zone. You decide to bide your time by continuously being that great friend with the hopes that sooner or later she will stop telling you about those other guys, wondering why she can’t find a guy like you and realize that you are that guy. If this is you, stop watching those teenie bopper movies and grow some chest hair!

Ladies, don’t think you are escaping from this law, far be it, you are the guiltiest of this law. Guys, think about it, that girl that is your friend, she would drop everything at an instant to help you out of a bind even if it is as trivial as picking up toilet paper for you. Think about it. Do you have a friend that would pick up toilet paper for you if you asked? She wants to hit it! Girls are better at hiding their hit it instincts better than guys but you gotta realize they got instincts too.

Retort: The only way you can dispute this law is if you have a friend that you are that tight with and you don't want to hit it.

If you two can hangout often, hell sleep and cuddle in the same bed on a regular occasion without anything being “awkward” or sexually charged then it is your friend that wants to hit it. Plain and simple, don’t be naïve, one of you wants to hit it and if it ain’t you then it is definitely them.

Some of you might even throw the argument out there that you have had or still do have a friend that you are that close with and nothing ever happened that way. The rule does not say that something must or will happen sooner or later, it just states that someone wants the other.

If you are convinced that you do not have that close friend that you wan’ touch, leave it be that someone wants you.

Exception: There are exceptions, if you met your friend while they were in a relationship or are related to them (southern states and Newfoundland excluded).

The law also does not apply if you do not have a close friend of the opposite sex.

Look for Fletch’s Retort, the follow-up to Brown’s Law. A retort for those that realize the impact of Brown’s law and try to fulfill the fantasy that engages the law.

Lesser known facts about: The Question

2006-04-07T13:39:00.000-04:00

Lesser known facts about…The Question

A lot of my regular readers might not get this blog, so replace the Question with someone else's name or if you are that narcissistic (Hammer ;) lol), you can use your name.

A lot of people have been wondering who IS the Question exactly? Well, I thought I would help you out by giving you 25 facts about the enigma known as the Question. JLA!!!

The Question wasn't born, he was unleashed.
Michael Jackson’s album Thriller is actually a warning of the coming of the Question. Ever since his vision, Michael progressively gets paler and paler every year…like he saw a ghost.
Superman wears the Question pajamas.
The Question is the leading cause of pleasure in women.
The only reason your woman is satisfied is because Question already satisfied her.
Victoria’s Secret is the Question.
There is no “i” in team but there is one in the Question.
When playing ball, you need to recognize that the Question is the “i” in team!
Stephen Hawkins once challenged the Question to one-on-one…poor Stephen. He got schooled so bad he now has 5 PhDs but lost the ability to play again.
If you did a google image search for “bus driver,” your computer will become flooded with pictures of the Question, because he takes everyone to school.
A ball player will get in the triple threat stance once given the ball. The Question gets in the trick or treat stance.
There is an international law forbidding the Question from playing professional ball ever, there is no rating for his game.
Every time you hear a bell ring, someone just got schooled by the Question.
The Question can hear a bra unhooking.
The Question sheds a tear every time Halle Berry puts a bra on.
Nelly had Pimp Juice… until he met the Question.
Superman's only weakness is Kryptonite. The Question laughs at Superman for having a weakness.
There are no such things as lesbians, just women who never had the Question.
The Question can make Sue Johansson blush.
The Question is a private eye, investigative journalist, conspiracy theorist and pimp. Because of this, he calls Grissom and solves CSI’s cases on commercial break.
Like the Bat signal, when a member of the JLA needs a wingman, they turn on the Question signal.
To get into the JLA, the Question insisted on arm wrestling a bunch of ‘em at the same time. The losers had to wear their underwear on the outside of their pants or no pants at all –wonder-woman.
Proof that the Question is unstoppable, he has over 3,000 children in this area alone. Even prophylactics can’t stop this man!
When the Question deletes a girl’s number from his phone, she automatically becomes a lesbian. Deep down inside, she knows no man will ever satisfy her like that again …EVER!
In a pickup ball game, there are exactly 1,242 ways the Question can school you. Oddly enough, that is the same number of ways he can satisfy a woman.

J-J-J-JLA!!!

Awkward vs Strange

2006-03-15T16:11:00.000-05:00

You thought that was awkard? Well this is strange...

Awkward is your girlfriend’s dad walking in on you.
Strange is him rubbing your back and coaching you through it.

Awkward is walking in on your folks.
Strange is joining them.

Awkward is calling out the wrong name when with your boyfriend.
Strange is your boyfriend calling out the wrong guy’s name when with you.

Awkward is someone using the urinal next to you.
Strange is someone using the same urinal you used while you are using it.

Awkward is someone correcting you that they are not a man.
Strange is someone correcting you that they are not a man…until Tuesday.

Awkward is having your mouth open as your grandma plants one on you.
Strange is her slipping you the tongue.

Awkward is a stranger telling you your fly is down.
Strange is them helping you zip up.

Awkward is someone having a conversation with you from the next stall.
Strange is them passing you notes under the stall.

Awkward is shopping for underwear with your mom
Strange is shopping for lingerie with your mom

Awkward is reaching too high for a handshake.
Strange is reaching too low for a handshake.

Awkward is borrowing batteries from your roommate
Strange is borrowing batteries and “their toy”

Awkward is developing rigor in your trousers as the teacher picks on you
Strange is telling the teacher about the development

Awkward is developing rigor in your trousers while dancing with your crush
Strange is developing rigor in your trousers while dancing with your mom

Awkward is your girlfriend watching you pee
Strange is your girlfriend making you watch her pee

March Tangents

2006-03-14T12:36:00.000-05:00

First of all, pull your pants up!
Black is slimming…if you are skinny.
No. YOU fit the description!
Can you really hide from Superman?
Shouldn’t Batman be locked up in an asylum along with the other bad guys? Or at least be on Queer Eye for the Strange Guy? Honestly! Who wears underwear on the outside of their tights?
Why isn’t there straight eye for the queer guy?
Or biggest winner?
And who the hell are these so called “fashion experts?”
Why is everything “extreme” these days?
Just what I need, more caffeine –monster, red bull, throttle, mountain dew nocturnal, bawls.
Honey is bee barf.
Popcorn is awesome, the smell alone makes you hungry.
How come there is no popcorn flavoured air fresheners?
If the cab drivers here do not speak English and the cab drivers in other countries do not speak English… where the hell are all the English speaking cab drivers?
Please resist the urge to automatically call any black person “bro,” or give us the peace sign and most of all, DO NOT under any circumstances pump your fist or holla out ‘fight the power.’ It does not show you “down” or make you “tight.” It makes you get “beat.”
Pull your pants up!
You are not Rick James. BITCH!
I know Victoria’s Secret. She a damn ho!
No those jeans don’t make your ass look big, your ass makes your ass look big.
Straighten out your hat.
Pull your pants up.
OJ is not a murderer, he just kills a lot.
Now that Johnny Cochrane is no longer with us, who will help athletes and stars stay out of prison? –watch yourself Kobe, OJ, MJ, Rasheed
Seriously, who buys a used submarine?
How the hell can getting peed on be arousing?
Don't even get me started on pooping on people!
Tough call –Chuck Norris vs Jack Bauer
Can Michael Jackson ever look human again?
That’s enough Bono!
Paul Martin…Canadian Clinton?
Harry Ballsanga vs Hous Bin Far-teen
Who is more famous –Celine Dion or Shania Twain? Who cares?
Eddie Murphy Raw or Delirious?
Chappelle or Eddie?

Elections, the STDs of Politics

2006-01-08T18:35:00.000-05:00

With the upcoming elections, we hear the same clichés and fallacious promises from each party. The campaign ads each party has leaves a nostalgic taste for the old detergent commercials where the product claims to be new and improved. Well, which is it ya hillbilly bastards? Something can’t be new and improved at the same time, it is one or the other; NOT both! Being the ever benevolent patron that your are, you decide to give the product the benefit of the doubt. You go to your local supermarket, pick it up and try it out. The decision is usually made when you are not thinking clearly. You are edgy, anxious, nervous, nauseous…. Hell, you’re drunk when you decide to stop dancing and make your move.

Making your move to that ‘new and improved’ detergent can be the same as making a move on that lab partner you’ve had a crush on for what seems like an eternity. It is usually when you’re drunk, drunker than usual because you need that extra liquid courage. And if you are not careful when you go to vote, it can end up like that extremely drunken night you and your lab partner decide to conduct your own little experiment. In the end, it leaves a crusty, flaky finish all over the front of your favourite pants. Or was that just me???

I digress, allow me to draw another bar illustration/comparison to the tangent at hand. During election season, politicians be equated to the sleazy scotch swilling cassanova at the local bar. He will say and do whatever it takes to get you in bed.

Speaking of getting you into bed, allow me to segue way you into my main tangent. You see, politics is much like sex and if you don’t practice safe sex, you will end up getting effed…and not in the good way. They say elections are about choice and your right to choose, I disagree. Your right to choose includes your choice to say no or in this case, your choice to say none of the above. As we all know, we do not get that option, we do not get the option to convey our dissatisfaction with the options we are presented. This thereby implies that we do not necessarily have true choice as we are forced to choose the lesser of evils. Proof being how each party tells you how the other parties are evil and the wrong choice which in my mind means they are all the wrong choice. If they are all the wrong choice, why am I being asked to pick something I don’t want? Why am I being asked to pick an ailment or a crutch I really do not want?

With that said and sticking to out analogy of ‘temporary relationships,’ I pose this to you: With the upcoming elections, you are being dictated to pick your choice of STD. Yes I said it, STD.

Allow me to elaborate…

Each candidate is that classy cassanova or sultry seductress that promises you something greater than eternal happiness while dismissing the other players’ advances on you. However what they deliver is something no one ever wants. Hell, if it were, Hallmark would be making millions on a card that says “I know I gave you an STD but I got you a card and it’s a Hallmark!

Enough school talk, allow me to get ignant…

At bat, we got pimp #1, this bald stallion with his gray moustache that would tickle your cuckolds wants to give you something special that you will definitely remember him by. Something that every time you go to pee, you curse his name, you curse his name because it burns like hell. Yo, R. Kelly! Does it also burn the people you pee on or does it just make you crazy like Michael? Hmm Michael… post-Thriller Michael, vitiligo bubbles the chimpanzee loving Michael is probably the best way to describe the way this pimp and his posse operate. For those of you that don’t realize it, you are not voting for just the man, you are voting for his posse and their beliefs. You peeing is every time you buy something at the store and you are being jacked in taxes or every time you get your taxes and realize it burns, it burns worse that pouring salt on that red rash on ya buns.

A more socialist form of life in Canada wouldn’t be too bad… if you like that burning sensation when you pee. And no the ish don’t clear up on its own, you gotta take action and get rid of that son bi%$h. Seriously though, this mustached man looks like he personally inserts a giant pickle wrapped in sandpaper in his own what what before starting each day. I mean, don’t you already hear the Benny Hill beat playing in the back of your head and him running around wrecking ish? Some people may ask how you know it would burn. Honestly! This ain’t wet paint sucka, you don’t need to touch it to know it ain’t a good thing! I swear to places, you find me someone that wants to experience that burning sensation and I will vote for Benny Hill and his mustached posse.

Now let us move towards the middle,

This pimp wants to give you the gift that keeps on giving, it’s like diamonds, they are forever. And like diamonds, everyone knows you have them but no one wants to associate with you. What do I mean? Well think about the outlandish things that this pimp and his crew throw out and it ain’t for shock value. Most recent example, playboy has a press conference to chastise ‘the neighbours’ with respect to the trade embargos. In retaliation, the neighbours rep retaliates through a different press conference pretty much sayin shut the eff up or we will cut you even more than we did last time. Another example? Sure why not, not only did playboy’s predecessor leave him with a huge mess, he was caught back in the day on mike at town hall (UN) calling the neighbour and his daddy a moron. But wait! It was in French so no one would understand because no one is able to translate that language right?.

So you have decided to say no to your first two suitors, you are holding out for something better...

Well this low key understated flyboy comes sauntering towards you. He is willing to give you the silent gift that if not dealt with this properly and quickly, will lead to involuntary sterility. This flyboy will also rob and sell everything you possess and hold dear. Hell, he would even sell your pyjamas with you in it!

By the time you wake up, your home much like the country, is bare, barren and broke. This all done because a buck can be made on each of our possessions from our precious glaciers to our unique & irreplaceable healthcare. Where the hell do you think he will subsidize his 5% GST from? Yes I know GST, much like your hubby’s best friend moving in, was a temporary thing. Well guess what? It is still here! And even after you kick that hubby out, you get comfortable with having hubby’s buddy there because they do all those little things you hate. Things like, taking out the garbage, shoveling the driveway… weird how things work out huh? Can stand that hubby for imposing their friend on you but even well after hubby moves out, buddy/buddet is still there.

Well, I think I am done…you can go now…

But wait Q, what about that other pimp and his always ‘green’ suit? Or what about that lover that will eventually want a ‘separation’?

Lookey hya, there are certain things you just don’t talk about. You don’t talk about yeast infections because only a particular portion of the population can or will get it. And even when that population has it, you don’t see them going around bragging about it!

I just got my cheque in the mail…

Oh ya? Well I just got a yeast infection so screeeeeeeeeew YOU!

Green… Come on? We know we all need to be socially conscious but do we need to feel guilty about it everyday? Hell I would feel guilty for breathing because I would be told everyday that I am destroying the environment with my toxic exhalations!

Another tangent brought to you by yours truly… the insane mind of a funky homo-sapien formerly known as Q

Feminine Hygiene

2006-01-08T16:22:00.000-05:00

Okay I have to ask. How many damn commercials do we need on feminine hygiene products? I mean come on! Before I lose you on this tangent, I am referring to the toiletries, the sanitary items, pads, tampons.

Before any of you ladies throw your hands up in an uproar to claim I am being narrow minded, ignorant, obtuse or chauvinistic, you must admit that if you do not think the commercials for the toiletries are too many because you enjoy the freedom of choice, you must admit that they are becoming a little excessive and graphic.

I don't care if you substitute a blue liquid to represent something else, a rose is still a rose. I mean here I am trying to have dinner and a commercial comes on throwing a damn "cotton ball" in a glass and watching it soak up this damn blue stuff. WHAT THE HELL???

Do I need the graphic image to believe that your product soaks up more that the leading competitor? Do you see commercials that show a pile of mud or soft rocky road ice cream being lifted up by your favourite toilet roll? Sure it is ice cream but I am sure the graphic image was not necessary! Do you see me taking a razor to a raisin bran muffin to show you how smooth a shave I can get on my junk?

Here is an idea. Seeing that reality shows are the new dot com and everyone and their mother has their own show how about a Survivor style showdown between all these damn companies. Have two islands representing the two main type of the toiletries, I should not have to spell this out.

The winner has exclusive ad/bragging rights. From then on, the winning company only has to flash their name across the screen for no more than three seconds. They don't need to go into graphic detail of how they are the best, you won, we know you are the best. No more commercials showing how their team of crack scientists went into space collected some space dust and engineered a new age toiletry. You are the best congrats, all other companies that come up with any new products give them directly to you and you keep the market strong.

Just to be fair, we will have a rematch every three years for a new king of the market. There would be stipends though, this show would be on during the Superbowl, Stanley Cup or NBA Finals. Yes this is the ignorant part of me expecting that only women would watch this show or assuming women don't want to watch these sport events. If they do, they can TAPE it as is often suggested to us. Or here is another solution, have a coke and a smile.

There are numerous possibilities to this show. Hell there are spinoff possibilities already brewing: pimp my pad, the tamp, so fresh so clean –starring Mr. Clean as the new Trump.

I could go on but I think you get the idea of where I am going with this! Seriously, tone it down a little. Thank goodness I don't particularly like blue Gatorade or else these Ad Execs and I would be throwing fists.

Popular Phrases and Inbreeding of the English Language

2006-01-07T20:49:00.000-05:00

Now I was listening to this talk radio station about an hour ago and the host was talking about the headaches of renovating his house. He goes off on a tangent (yes I know “hello pot? This is the kettle…”) about his power tools and electricity, that’s when he drops the line “I had to get a really long extension cord.” Um, I don’t know about you but isn’t that the point of getting an extension cord? Because it is long???

So I drifted off into my place of randomness and started to wonder about some more of the oxymorons and redundant/irritating phrases people use everyday and I thought I would throw some out there. Feel free to add yours:

“I hate to interrupt but…” –if you hate to interrupt, why you doing it then? ~Where the hell is my fish bonker?

“How about this weather?” ~How about it ya damn heifer? Would you like me to tell you the chance of precipitation or the chance of my foot connecting with your doodie maker? P.s. Is it spelled doodie or doody?

The next time you need to use any of the following phrases, just stop and don’t say them at all no matter how honest your intentions are: no offense, don’t take this the wrong way, not sure how to say this… Just stop yourself. STOP!

When you are reading a book and you come across a page that has this written at the bottom “this page intentionally left blank.” -What the hell??? It ain’t blank if you wrote on it ya donkey!

“I’d give my right arm to…,” –Honestly! No matter how the phrase were to end, unless you are Dhamer, who wants a body part as a gift? If the phrase were to go “I’d give my right arm to go on a date with her.” Do you see yourself picking her up for the date and instead of giving her flowers you give her your newly severed arm?

Reality shows…that is another blog waiting to happen! What the eff is real about them? When was the last time you were trapped on an island with a bunch of strangers or locked in a house with the outcome being a lot of money? If you want it to be real, film these people taking a dump, yakking, … that is real…

I could go on but I think I will start my next tangent on Reality Shows!
And SCREW JOE ROEGAN damn Fear Factor my ass!

Very Random Tangents

2006-01-07T20:47:00.000-05:00

You bored? Looking to kill time before your next enema? Well here are some random thoughts and points to ponder

• If you can be born again, can you be dead again?
• Is it true the name Wendy was made up by the author of Peter Pan?
• It is impossible to kiss your own elbow.
• The easter bunny is one deranged animal carrying around eggs.
• I love animals! They taste great.
• Is it just me or is Ricky Williams what Michael would have become on weed, roids and the “skin disease?”
• Yo, where is Martin Lawrence?
• Why is Samuel L. Jackson always yelling?
• If the south is so dumb and that is where all the inbreds are, how come 4 of the last 5 presidents are from the south?
• Who has done more drugs, Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones or Ozzy Osbourne?
• Do you wake up or open your eyes first?
• Who is John and where is he at 3:16?
• Can Catholic Priests make good babysitters?
• Why do child labor laws not prohibit children from acting in movies?
• If you can’t have your cake and eat it too, then what the hell is the point of cake?
• Seriously! Who the hell is Dave Navarro and why doesn’t he own a razor?
• Why does every woman think that all men’s fantasies involve two women? Why do all men’s’ fantasies involve two women?
• If all of the water were drained from the body of an average 160-pound man, the body would weigh 64 pounds.
• How the hell does one realize they enjoy getting peed on?
• Who discovered pleasure in being peed on? Was it by accident?
• If millions to billions of people die everyday of diseases, accidents, old age, and health related issues, how come human beings are not extinct?
• Halle Berry or Angelina Jolie?
• Taye Diggs or Tyson Beckford?
• Reality shows are not educational resources.
• If ice cream is dairy, why can’t we have it for breakfast?
• Why isn't the number 11 pronounced onety one?
• No one ever says, "It's only a game" when their team is winning.
• Whatever happened to Preparations A through G?
• They say 3 out of 5 adults suffer from hemarroids. Who the hell are the remaining 2 out of 5 that enjoy it?
• Aren’t feminists cute?
• Always remember you're unique, just like everyone else.
• Any Man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his friends.
• If you just showered at the gym and your boy snaps you with his towel, wrestling him while you’re both naked is just wrong.
• Milk is spoiled when it starts to look like yogurt. Yogurt is spoiled when it starts to look like cottage cheese. Cottage cheese is spoiled when it starts to look like regular cheese. Regular cheese is nothing but spoiled milk anyway and can't get any more spoiled than it is already. Cheddar cheese is spoiled when you think it is blue cheese but you realize you've never bought that kind.
• A man’s telephone conversation with a woman should never go on longer than he is able to have sex with her.
• Unless freestyling, joining your boy who is already singing along to a song in the car is just wrong!

Rock is dead. Long live Paper!

2006-01-07T20:44:00.000-05:00

I gotta admit, this tangent is not mine, a friend of a friend wrote this one but I thought you would all love it as Rock, Paper, Scissors enthusiasts.
understand that scissors can beat paper, and I get how rock can beat scissors, but there's no f*cking way paper can beat rock. Paper is supposed to magically "wrap around" rock, rendering it immobile? Why the hell can't paper do this to scissors?

Screw scissors, why can't paper do this to people? Why aren't sheets of notebook paper constantly suffocating students as they attempt to take notes in class? I'll tell you why -BECAUSE PAPER CAN'T BEAT ANYBODY! A rock would tear that sh*t up in 2 seconds.

When I play rock/paper/scissors, I always choose rock. Then when somebody claims to have beaten me with their paper, I punch them in the face with my already clenched fist and say, "Oh sh*t, I'm sorry. I thought that paper would protect you."

Next time one of your friends gives you safe, puts their hand as a fist to give you rock as the handshake, go to it with your rock but at the last second open your hand and cover their fist and yell "PAPER B*TCH, paper beats rock!"

More insanity from the mind formerly known as Q

Demise of like the English Language

2006-01-07T20:42:00.000-05:00

So I was watching the news this morning before rolling out of bed and there was a segment on back to school and retail. They then decided to interview a few shoppers and retailers on what they are planning on getting.

They were interviewing the manager of one of the stores who happened to be a university grad when I noticed it... the demise and degradation of the English language. I mean, I expect people to have a certain level of poise and articulateness, especially university grads.

What got my goat? What got me rattled? The fact that this person, a university grad that was saving to go into her masters in political science could not put together a sentence without the use of the word "like." Not a single sentence could be put together without the word like being thrown in at least two or three times A SENTENCE!

I started to count the number of times this word was uttered and was contemplating whether or not to write this person off as: (a) being nervous or (b) a complete and utter tool; that is when I started thinking of the number of times I have stopped people mid-story, to ask them to put together a sentence or the rest of the story without the word "like." Not trying to be an ass here but when was there a law passed that said that the word like needs to be uttered every fourth word?

As the reporter interviewing her, I would probably have beaten her with the microphone or done something odd..."like" meowing or barking every time the word like was uttered: "Oh, is that distracting? I'm sorry you defecating on the English language is rather distracting as well! Tell you what, you stop taking a dump in my ear and I will stop humping your leg because both are rather distracting."

You think I am exaggerating? Next time you are chatting with someone and they are telling you a story, count the number of times and the context the word is used. Hell, meow every time they use the word.

Something to ponder: would you want this person to represent your organization? If not, check your like count too. One like every third sentence used as in a simile or metaphor are acceptable. Any more than that and as a conjunction, prefix, interjection, etc, give 'em a meow.

The legal pleas of insanity of the mind formerly known as Q

Thoughts on Movies

2006-01-07T20:31:00.000-05:00

I’m sure you have all noticed some of the commonalities you see in every movie.

For example, every cop movie involves a divorced cop, has 24 hours to solve the case and is about to get kicked off the force. No? How about the commonality of the L-shaped covers, where the covers go to the guy’s waist yet somehow cover the lady upto her “what-whats.”

Ya I’m sure you’ve read about these in emails or noticed them yourself on movies or tv shows.

Well here is one that I think I have noticed for years but not read anyone else bitching about it so allow me to take this rant on my own little tangent, I call it… back to drama.

Ever notice that as soon as a character is about to reveal a deep dark secret about themselves or talk about a scarring moment in their lives, they always turn their back to the person they are talking to and stare out a window or into nothingness? It always goes does something like this:
Peter: How come you have a fear of penguins?
Jane: Well (as she turns her back to Peter and looks out a window), it all started…

Honestly what is that? When was the last time you were talking to a friend of yours and they turned around so you could talk to their back as they let their hearts flow? I know I wouldn’t do that, not only is it disrespectful to the person you are talking to, it is also dangerous. Dangerous? Yes dangerous! You are in danger of getting knocked out with a fish bonker, dragged out to the nearest farm and left in the stall with the bull that is in heat.

Hell if someone ever did that while we were talking trying to make a dramatic moment of it, I would follow through with three things that would teach them not to get dramatic!

They would follow as such:
a) Knock 'em out with a fish bonker
b) Take 'em to a manure farm
c) Let the animals do their business
d) Hell , I’d help the animals out too!

Ignorant heifers!