Bowl of what?

So I go to the Renaissance festival last year and they have a show with various birds from all over the world. One of these birds they show is the african vulture that can de-bone a chicken leg while being held by a trainer in 5 seconds. Very impressive. Ill bet in the wild that situation occurs everyday. So in telling us the virtue of the bird, the trainer guy says the immune system of the bird is so strong it can eat a bowl of anthrax and survive. Interesting. But my question is obvious, how in the hell did they find that out? Did the trainer happen to have a bunch of vultures at one time and then they got into his stash of anthrax and only one lived, having only eaten a bowl full? Or was he experimenting with how much anthrax it would take to kill a vulture, and a teaspoon wasn't enough, a bucket was too much, but a bowl was just right. Maybe the vulture ran out of food one day, and the only thing the trainer had left was anthrax, and he liked it. Does the trainer sprinkle anthrax on the chicken leg for the bird before he feeds it to him? Kinda like salt? Does he have like a petting zoo situation for the bird, and kids can give it little cubes of anthrax to eat, just no more than a bowl full?

low what?

So, the Home Depot tells me they are slashing prices, and they even have signs in the store that tell you what the price was before they slashed it. So, basically they're saying, "We were going to fuck you this hard, but we felt bad so we lowered the price and we're only going to fuck you this hard." How sweet of them. It's like a guy comes up to you and says, I was going to hit you in the face, but now I'm only going to hit you in the stomach. How benevolent of them to lower the price on our behalf. It's like they didn't think we lowly commoners could afford such extravagant prices, so they'd better lower them for the rest of us. Seriously? You can't just lower the price and leave it at that?

questions

So I've been watching the biggest loser against my will here recently , and it has honestly given me more questions then answers.

How do they feel being fat?

What do they hope to get out of appearing on the biggest loser?

Are they nervous about meeting the trainers?

Is the training they are getting difficult?

Are they feeling like quitting?

Are they happy they are seeing results for the first time and hoping their friends and family will be proud of them?

Are they upset at the fact their housemates are going home?

Will they miss their housemates?

Do the contestants feel different seeing their before and after pictures midway throughout  he competition?

Had they ever thought they would ever get to this point into their weight loss? 

Is it up to them or someone else to finish the competition and lose the weight?

I've just seen them doing an activity, but will they explain that activity to me as well as their thoughts before and during that activity? 

And finally, has being on the biggest loser changed their life forever, and are they happier now then they have ever been in their life, do they feel like they have a new life, do they think their weight will continue to be a struggle, are they happy with the experience they had with the trainers and do they thank the trainers for all their hard work and miss their teammates they went through it with and will they cry while saying all this and maybe just maybe they will act different or have a different reaction then all the other goddamn contestants on all the other seasons that have been or ever will be???

Oh wait, all of these questions have been answered for me. and it's just the first five minutes!

home slice

So as a technician with dish network for 3 years, there are a few things I learned that I wish the customers would know. So as a service to the people who have service techs in their house, such as cable tv or plumbers, here is what you should know.

1. We don't give a shit if there are dirty clothes on the floor.
This is one of the most irritating things I always heard when walking into a house. A few items of clothing here and there doesn't make your house look like an episode of hoarders. We as technicians have been in houses that are straight out of hoarders. I can tell you this much, the show does nothing to demonstrate the smell of those houses. Like hot trash with pepper on it.

2. Your dog fucking bites. 
Oh, they don't bite. No dumb-ass, the dog doesn't bite you or your family. If it did, you wouldn't have the damn dog. I was bitten three times, all by dogs that didn't bite. And you know what those people said after their dogs bit me? "oh, they've never done that before." Well, fuck me running I'm so glad I was the first.

3. Stop following me. 
I know you are lonely and no one likes you, or you don't trust me and have to make sure I don't steal your Elvis plates, but stop following me around your house, in the attic, to my van, in the backyard, and in every goddamn bedroom. You know why I go in the attic? To get the fuck away from you. I know a guy who had a customer so close to his shoulder, he pulled the drill back after making a wall penetration and elbowed the customer in the face. You know what the customer did? Moved to the other side.

4. No, the shoes stay on.
I don't care what you do in your country mr. taliban, here in America unless you have white carpet you bleach every day along with your teeth the most I will do is put on little booties. It's a safety hazard and I don't want to step in the dog shit on your carpet in my socks. Seriously. I had a customer tell me to remove my shoes but in the corner they had dog shit on what used to be grey carpet.

5. I will not drink/smoke/inject anything you offer me.
I have been offered everything from a bowl of pot to a case of beer at 9 am on sunday. I'm flattered you feel comfortable enough with my presence to get me drunk/stoned before I begin work on your house, but falling off a ladder because you wanted to feel at one with me is just bad decision making on both our parts.

6. Ten feet won't matter.
I am what you call the subject matter expert. That means whatever I tell you is the way it is. Even if I just started I have already forgotten more that you know. In my case, when I said I could put the dish six feet off the ground instead of the tip of your very steep fucking roof, that's what I mean. The satellite is 20,000 miles away in space. Ten feet will not matter.

7. I'm not impressed.
Just because your wife/girlfriend/lover/dominatrix is standing there doesn't mean you have to brag about how much of a badass you are and how you could use the drill and do my job and all that goofy bullshit you think will make me seem like an idiot compared to you. If you knew how to do my job, you would do it yourself. Now go get drunk and forget you signed any paperwork.

8. Ummm, explain that please.
So we've covered I don't give a shit about your clothes on the floor or the trash not being taken out, but certain things DO require an explanation. Like for instance, (all true stories) the naked mannequin with flowers covering the crotch in your living room floor, answering the door by spraying febreze due to the smell of cat urine, the pictures of old west prostitutes lining your hallway, the bag of mysterious white powder laying on your bed, the backyard filled with roosters strategically tied by their feet as to not gain access to each other, why your ten year old son knows how to watch you taking a shower from the attic, man on horse porn in your dvd player. Yes, you will need to explain WTF when to comes to these items. Everything else, I  just want to get the fuck out of your house.

thank you world

I wake up from my dust-mite infested bed and stroll across my dead skin cell covered carpet to use the bathroom that has mold on the walls and chemicals in the toilet water even before I put the blue stuff in there. I turn on the water from the faucet that has fluoride and chlorine in it, and put my sea-weed made toothpaste on my fecal matter covered toothbrush. I brush for not quite long enough to truly get them clean and finish with mouthwash that for some reason is safe to put in my mouth but not to drink. I stroll to the childrens rooms and wake the from sleep they don't get enough of to perform well in school, and have them get dressed with clothes made by people the same age as them a world away. I feed the children cereal, with more dyes and preservatives then a dead body, whom I am told I am raising to have some sort of complex because I don't hug them for the right amount of time or tell them how great they are every second even if they haven't done anything. The children then step outside the house into the possible acid rain they will be exposed to while waiting to ride a giant vehicle that burns up the ozone layer and has no seat belts that takes them to an indoctrination facility. Or "school" if you prefer. There they will not be able to sit still and instead of being shown how to sit and learn as part of a productive member of society as was the case in the past, they will be doped up to the point of being mildly comatose as to not upset the federal funding the indoctrination facility receives. Breath. I myself will fix my own breakfast consisting of genetically engineered pork, eggs that come from chickens that do not have the ability to walk, and toast made from wheat that (according to the gub-ment) contains NO trace of the pesticides used on it by the farmers. I then get in my own metal box of death and after making it past the 1 mile radius of accident likelihood I arrive at a job that will slowly give me carpal tunnel syndrome in my hands and make me go blind do to staring at a computer screen all day after stealing company time by taking too long in the bathroom. I make sure to not effectively communicate with my boss thereby not getting that raise I could be entitled to, and I steal more company time looking online at social networking sites. After an exercise in both destroying  the roads I drive on, the environment, and wasting some more of my life sitting in traffic, I arrive back at the house in time to ignore the children, giving them plenty of angst to brood over as they sit in front of whatever device will keep them from having to think for themselves or create their own fun. I feed these same children foods filled with m.s.g., h.i.v., x.y.z. and poo poo pee. I later further my destruction of the environment by watching tv and learning how everything in the world is killing me and everyone in the world hates me for being me and how by watching tv about how I raising the children wrong I am in fact, raising them wrong and if I would only donate so many cents a day to a kid across the world who will grow up to suicide bomb me anyway and how I need to be aware of everything and everybody and their problems and I need to vote this way and that way and I eat too much of the wrong food and drive too many miles in the wrong car and live in too big of a wrong house and my kids are too dumb and Im too fat and I need to take Constipatelaxitivejockitch-a-latan to solve all my medical problems and the whole world is going to blow up if Im not looking and......

Fuck it, it's just a typical monday.

bored games

Yes, I know that title is spelled wrong for the purpose of this post, but you will get the point here shortly. So I keep hearing about these damn somali pirates and muslims in other countries trying to kill us and all the unrest in the middle east. Keep in mind we have no beginning or end east, just the middle. And it got me to thinking about what we never see in any of these news reports. Board games. I mean no wonder these people are so pissed off. You just think about how well monopoly would go over there. Their money already looks like monopoly money as it is, if they run out while playing instead of having everyone turn in $100 bills for $500 bills they could use their countries actual currency. Instead of a shoe and a top hat, they could have a camel and a turbin. Possibly a suicide bomber vest piece. And why would the crazies in afghanistan want to kill us if they could do it many times over by playing risk? The only learning curve would be teaching them how to count to operate the dice, but fuck it, they would have a blast. Those somali pirates would be so busy playing hungry hungry hippos they would forget they had no food to eat themselves in no time. And do you really think members of al ki-duh could hate us after playing the game of life and seeing the chances you take on the number of peg children you have to carry around in the car? I know what you're saying, where can I get really small saddles for my mice led government overthrow, but think about this for a minute, has anyone ever tried to introduce scrabble into egypt?

Signs

Seems everyone is putting out lists these days about how to tell if a guy is into you. So,  I have put together my own list for all you women out there.

FIVE SIGNS HE'S INTO YOU
By Matt Janak

1) He asks you out on a date, and then shows up.
Most guys will tell you they would like to take you out, and often times they do such things as make plans and clear their schedule to do so. This is a sure fire sign he likes you. "I once asked this woman out from the grocery store," says Greg, 28, "and then we went out later that week."

2) After the first date, he calls you to set up a second date.
This is probably the best way to determine if he is into you. A lot of guys will in fact ask for the second date if they enjoyed themselves on the first one. " We really hit it off when we went out for the first time, so I asked her out again the next night." Explains Tom, 21.

3)When the second date is over, he asks for a third and fourth date. 
Experts say this is the way most men nowadays proceed when they enjoy the company of a particular woman. Dr. Toppenbottom of University State College has done multiple studies on the subject, and has found the following: "What we have seen in the last few years is a tendency to ask for future dates if the first few were enjoyable for both parties."

4) He asks you to marry him after dating for a length of time.
Over the last few decades in America the statistics have shown that the majority of women getting married in recent years have dated the men for months or even years prior to the engagement. That was the case for Kate, 34. "We dated for about a year and a half before he asked me to marry him, and then I had a feeling he was into me."

5) He actually goes through with the marriage and bears children with you. 
Most anecdotal evidence leads people to believe that when a man actually marries a woman and later has children with her, this is a good indicator of him being "in" to her. So says Maria and Donald, both 43. "We dated for a couple years, got married, and had 3 children." says Maria. "After about 6 years I thought to myself, maybe he is into me." Donald adds, " Im into her."

Rye-ming

So I got to thinking, most sayings that last thought the years last because they rhyme. " an apple a day keeps the doctor away", " he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day", and think about all the songs people listen to over and over. They all rhyme n shit. So, as a public service to humanity, I have decided to create some of my own.

"Constipation everywhere do not hump an angry bear"

" Titties titties in my face where are zebras wearing lace?"

"Masturbate with cheese grater give yourself pain no greater"


"Poo poo pee pee in the sink, vomit on the roller rink"

"Alpaca buttocks on the wall, cabbage taint and you may fall"

"Me chinese, me play joke, me put pee pee in your coke"

Daycare

So I'm thinking that the current name (Robin's Nest) for a daycare by my house is a little, pussified. Basically a giant wimp factory for children. I think they should rename it to something that would make people want to bring their children there, something that even if you don't have children will make you want to go impregnate a random woman just to put them in this daycare. Here are a few names I've been kicking around and think would do the job niceley:

Rabies Nest


Anthrax For Kids

Weapons N Stuff

Lil' Sycos

Ma's House of Mini-Gladiators

Torture A Tot
( I went to a daycare as a child called Teach a Tot and that's what we nicknamed it, so can't take full credit for that one)

Deth From Below Waist Level

Teenage Olympics

So I know that people that have teenagers go through a lot with the huffing and puffing and all that jazz. So I got to thinking since we allow teenagers in the olympics, we should have olympics just for them. I mean we have some for people with down syndrome and shit so why not consider lack of of common sense and gratitude a disability as well.

Events could include, but are not limited to:  

The Door Slam: Contestants will not only slam a wooden but a metal door as well, and the final round will consist of attempting to slam a bank vault door.

The Sigh-Off: Participants will attempt to sigh as many times and as loudly as possible within the time limit.

The Bad Hair Choice: Contestants will have five minutes to look through magazines and after wards decide the dumbest, most ridiculous hairstyle they can come up with. Judges will include parents, teachers, and random strangers with a modicum of style.

The "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!" Event: Events will include sniffing paint, putting vodka in your eyeball, shaving curse words in the hair, driving while texting/talking to friends, and changing the Mp3 player settings. Time permitting, discussions on not getting pregnant if the month has an "R" in it.  


The No-Sense-of-Personal-Responsibility Event: Participants will attempt to devise excuses as to homework not being turned in, the dishes not being done, and why the dog has not water and just peed on the floor.

The Guilt Event: In a timed event contestants will have to convince their parents how horrible they are for making them come out of their room to eat and go to school. Bonus points will be awarded if the parents are made to cry and /or purchase more items to assuage their guilt.


Since every teenager "has" something these days drug testing will not be necessary, although any participant not currently taking medication must have something wrong with them as yet undiagnosed and therefore will be given drugs at the event.

The only participants to these events will be American  as contestants from other countries will be so enamored with the idea of electricity they would be distracted by the light switches at the arena.

















                                                                                                                                                                             

BEES!

So as I was sniffing various substances I found under the sink, I came across a realization, that all the world's conflicts can be traced back to one source: bees. Not just those vicious, bloodthirsty creatures innocently called "bumble bees", I mean the misnomered "honey bee" as they are known in certain circles. The fact is if you look at all the major conflicts, I mean objectivly look at them, you can find traces of bees. You find the ancient egyptians built entire pyramids just to get away from the black and yellow killing machines. You find Ghengis Khan wasn't really all that bad to start out with, he just had a constant bee problem. look closely at the pictures you see of Hitler and Stalin, I mean REALLY close. What do you see? What's that? No, to the left. Too far, right there, THERE! BEES! SEE! That is what I'm talking about. What is the one thing that would survive a nuclear holocost? Roaches? No, that is a lie spread by the bee industry. The only thing that would survive an atomic blast would be bees. Ever wonder how they made the atomic bomb in 1945? Bees. All those scientists worked for so many years and in the end, they used bee farts in a jar to make it happen. And honey? That's noe bee spit like they tell you in school, another "big bee" lie, it's bee urine. They basically pee all day and all night and the end result is what we call honey. Even as I write this men in dark black and yellow helicopters are circling overhead my house, waiting to take me away. I come to this conclusion with a heavy heart as I have no solution lasdjewkdfo , wel[pqw[pw

ALL HAIL BEES. BEES ARE GOOD. GO BACK TO YOUR BEE FILLED LIVES. NOTHING MORE TO READ.

It's a what?

So, about a year or so ago just to be a dick I re-wrote the ending to it's a wonderful life. My girlfriend's favorite movie. Here it is, hope you like it.

“George”. He heard the voice faintly say. More apologizing than actually trying to get someone’s attention. “George.” He heard more sternly this time, like a parent who really meant business . He suddenly realized Clarence was talking to him. George slowly turned his entire body around to face the voice he heard, then lifted his head to look in the eyes of his guardian angel. “guardian”, he thought to himself. Hmm. What exactly does he guard me from? “George” said Clarence again, “what are you doing up here?” George half smiled, “seems pretty obvious don’t it”. Clarence stepped forward, “what are you doing with that gun George?” he asked, already keenly aware of the answer. “ well, said George, if I was never born, then nobody gets their feelins hurt by my actions. My mother is just Ms. Bailey, my brother died in the pond, nobody knows me, I’m  just some nut in the bell tower”. Clarence glanced nervously over the side, “but George, all those people down there, what did they ever do to you? Why take their lives just because you have lost your own?” George looked down at his rifle, a simple piece, couldn’t even remember how he got it. “ if I have no life”, he muttered, “ then nobody else will either”. Suddenly he whipped around took aim at the police barricade to take another shot. He told himself he was aiming at Burt, but there was no way to tell. Too many police cars, too many bodies, too many spotlights trying to blind him to prevent more bloodshed. The police fired a few rounds at the tower above and below George,  not really trying to hit him as much as make him crouch back down. All in an effort to buy time for the group heading up the stairs. “George please” cried Clarence, “why are you doing this? You were supposed to be happy with the life you had, and beg me to give it back to you, not try to kill everyone in town!”  George sat back down with his back to the ledge. He sighed slowly. “Clarence, sometimes a man has to realize what he is. Some men are great, some men are bums. Some men are rich, some men are poor. Some of us are meant to do great things, and some of us…” his voice trailed off as he realized there was no turning back anymore. He had gone off the deep end. His life before was gone. Mary, the kids, his brother, his father, the business, the house, the car, old man potter, all of it was gone now. Laying in the street with those people in the red snow. None of it mattered anymore. He could hear the faintness of Clarence sobbing, as much to himself as to God it seemed.” It wasn’t supposed to be this way!” Clarence shouted at the heavens, “ he was supposed to repent! I’ve failed him! I’ve failed you lord! Please forgive me!” George heard the sounds of a door being battered in with great force, and looked up in time to see Burt charging toward him, gun drawn, face contorted with both confusion and anger, yet not slowing at the site of his past life friend. George raised the empty rifle, pointed it at the oncoming crowd, and……