Thursday, September 8, 2016
Horrified Harriet
Teacher Harriet was horrified....http://www.zazzle.com/horrified_harriet_sweatshirt-235848196594719985?CMPN=emc_ProductCreationForStore_Html_blogger&rf=238186096154610800&lang=en
Saturday, July 3, 2010
New Site
Labels:
careers,
comedy,
cover letters,
employment,
humor,
interviewing,
job search,
mystery,
networking,
resumes,
thriller
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Haiku - On the Parkway
I walk on the bridge
Magnum wrapper on the ground
sidewalk sex, I guess
Hawks nest on the roof
try to fly - bird-watchers stare
performance problems
Magnum wrapper on the ground
sidewalk sex, I guess
Hawks nest on the roof
try to fly - bird-watchers stare
performance problems
Friday, May 28, 2010
Have They Popped Their Corks?
I recently came across an event that takes place in Boston every spring. The event consists of a myriad of workshops with titles that made me wonder if it were part of some kind of parody.
Apparently not.
One of my favorites was "Roadkill Arts & Crafts: Using Mammals and Birds After They Have Been Killed by Cars." The lesson plan includes "harvesting roadkill and de-fatting." Interestingly enough, the facilitator has no last name. Maybe he himself has actually run over the animals whose carcasses he will bring to class, and therefore wishes to remain anonymous.
"Urban Beekeeping" strikes me as a rather risky pastime in which to engage, particularly in the sense of establishing a reputation in your neighborhood as "that crazy bee lady." Personally, I'd rather not be involved in any hobby that would require wearing a net over my head.
Then there's "This is a Stick-Up! The No-Gun Guide to Home Tattooing." Toxic dye and a needle in your kitchen. Now that doesn't sound like a disaster waiting to happen.
And how about "What's All the Fuss About Growing and Eating Heirloom Vegetables?" First of all, what fuss are they talking about? Heirloom vegetables haven't really been a hot topic of conversation, as far as I'm aware. And what exactly are heirloom vegetables? Are they really, really old vegetables that have been rotting in the crisper from generation to generation?
And you have to give credit to anyone who attends "Hair Cutting for Those with Low Standards" for acknowledging that they just don't give a crap.
But I have to admit my favorite is "Female Ejaculation - You Too Can Squirt!" In this workshop, the "legend will be examined, and the reality that is squirting will be revealed." Legend? As in "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow?" I couldn't help but wonder if the lesson plan for this workshop would consist of a group of women pleasuring themselves, but apparently it's all discussion. All talk and no play, as it were. The facilitator's perspective is that squirting is a desirable goal to attain, though there are likely many men who, instead of finding it erotic, would merely ask, "Did you just pee?"
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Lost Haiku
"Lost" scripts had mistakes
but Josh Holloway's gorgeous
so plot holes - who cares?
I ponder small points
once the Dharma soap is gone
survivors would stink
"Lost" is now ending
obsession redirected
back to cake and sex
but Josh Holloway's gorgeous
so plot holes - who cares?
I ponder small points
once the Dharma soap is gone
survivors would stink
"Lost" is now ending
obsession redirected
back to cake and sex
Labels:
comedy,
Dharma,
haiku,
humor,
island,
Josh Holloway,
Lost,
plot holes,
script,
series finale,
television,
TV
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Haiku - Home Adventures
An Exorcist Moment
My bed is shaking-
is it possessed? An earthquake?
just neighbors screwing
Pissing Through the Pipes
I hear loud trickling
through the laundry room ceiling
hope it doesn't leak
Frankenstein Steps
Ponderous footsteps -
monster coming up the stairs?
no - tired neighbor
My bed is shaking-
is it possessed? An earthquake?
just neighbors screwing
Pissing Through the Pipes
I hear loud trickling
through the laundry room ceiling
hope it doesn't leak
Frankenstein Steps
Ponderous footsteps -
monster coming up the stairs?
no - tired neighbor
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Phrases That Make Men Cringe
I'm on a list kick lately. Here's a short list of phrases that men don't want to hear:
1. Testicular tortion - I'm not even sure exactly what it is, but it sounds nasty. I believe some kind of unnatural twisting of genitalia is involved.
2. Vaginal discharge (the bad kind). If it's not sexual, any fluids that come out of that general area are not something men want to know about.
3. Menstrual anything
4. Performance anxiety - even when referring to the jitters prior to doing a drum solo onstage, I imagine it's hard to hear this phrase without the negative association.
5. "Size doesn't matter." No one would say this to someone who was built like King Kong. If a woman makes this comment to a man, he knows he's in trouble.
6. Penile implants - Not something any man wants to have to even think about.
1. Testicular tortion - I'm not even sure exactly what it is, but it sounds nasty. I believe some kind of unnatural twisting of genitalia is involved.
2. Vaginal discharge (the bad kind). If it's not sexual, any fluids that come out of that general area are not something men want to know about.
3. Menstrual anything
4. Performance anxiety - even when referring to the jitters prior to doing a drum solo onstage, I imagine it's hard to hear this phrase without the negative association.
5. "Size doesn't matter." No one would say this to someone who was built like King Kong. If a woman makes this comment to a man, he knows he's in trouble.
6. Penile implants - Not something any man wants to have to even think about.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Post-Mother's Day Reflections - Top Ten Ways to Not Become My Mother
10. Have sex with younger men.
9. Have sex.
8. Never buy a plastic rain bonnet.
7. Occasionally venture outside a 2-mile radius of my house.
6. Never use the phrase, "in my day...."
5. Refrain from wearing clothing that covers every part of my body that looks imperfect.
4. Don't buy generic ice cream.
3. Wear underwear that couldn't ever be used as an Ace bandage.
2. Don't buy a cabinet and keep figurines of cute animals in it.
1. Never say to a friend in a restaurant, "I can't eat anything on the menu, but it's okay - I'll eat when I get home."
9. Have sex.
8. Never buy a plastic rain bonnet.
7. Occasionally venture outside a 2-mile radius of my house.
6. Never use the phrase, "in my day...."
5. Refrain from wearing clothing that covers every part of my body that looks imperfect.
4. Don't buy generic ice cream.
3. Wear underwear that couldn't ever be used as an Ace bandage.
2. Don't buy a cabinet and keep figurines of cute animals in it.
1. Never say to a friend in a restaurant, "I can't eat anything on the menu, but it's okay - I'll eat when I get home."
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Boob Haiku
Woman's boobs so huge
she can't get out of her bed
They could feed Texas
Need to prop them up
fling one over each shoulder
to make a boob train
Sex could be risky
smothering a real danger
keep an air hose near
she can't get out of her bed
They could feed Texas
Need to prop them up
fling one over each shoulder
to make a boob train
Sex could be risky
smothering a real danger
keep an air hose near
Friday, April 30, 2010
Corpse Roommate
I read on MSN the other day about a guy who lived for 10 years with a dead guy under his living room couch. Apparently the dead guy had been staying with him for a few months when he just keeled over one day, presumedly from sudden heart failure or something similarly unassuming.
When the undead guy saw that his friend had expired, he decided it was preferable to just turn the couch over on the corpse and leave it there indefinitely, rather than risk pissing off his landlord for taking in a boarder. I guess a dead boarder wasn't a problem. Mr. Undead apparently proceeded to continue his daily routines, including eating his dinner and watching Oprah with the corpse lying a few feet away. You'd think the blue feet sticking out from under the couch would have been distracting.
But that wasn't the weirdest part. The weirdest part was that, a few months in, two city officials showed up at Mr. Undead's apartment in response to complaints from neighbors about an offensive odor. Not one, but two, city officials who both examined the premises and not only failed to notice the corpse under the overturned couch, but determined that the stink was coming from the toilet. Nice going, fellas.
When the undead guy saw that his friend had expired, he decided it was preferable to just turn the couch over on the corpse and leave it there indefinitely, rather than risk pissing off his landlord for taking in a boarder. I guess a dead boarder wasn't a problem. Mr. Undead apparently proceeded to continue his daily routines, including eating his dinner and watching Oprah with the corpse lying a few feet away. You'd think the blue feet sticking out from under the couch would have been distracting.
But that wasn't the weirdest part. The weirdest part was that, a few months in, two city officials showed up at Mr. Undead's apartment in response to complaints from neighbors about an offensive odor. Not one, but two, city officials who both examined the premises and not only failed to notice the corpse under the overturned couch, but determined that the stink was coming from the toilet. Nice going, fellas.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Boob-Quake Day?
I heard on the radio today that it was officially declared Boob-Quake Day. Apparently this new holiday is the result of a worldwide protest against some Iranian bozo who claims that women who don't dress modestly anger the gods-in-charge and, consequently, cause earthquakes.
As a result, women around the globe - or, at least, around the Harvard Coop - deliberately wore low-cut tops and no bras so that their boobs would hang out as a collective "f*ck you" directed at the aforementioned bozo.
I like the idea of various body parts linked to natural disasters and the combined results thereby being declared national holidays. How about Ass-Fire Day? Or Dick-Hurricane Day, which men would celebrate by blowing free in the wind. Or Thunder-Balls Day, perhaps in conjunction with Thunder-Thighs Day.
Bunker Hill Day sounds pretty boring now, doesn't it?
As a result, women around the globe - or, at least, around the Harvard Coop - deliberately wore low-cut tops and no bras so that their boobs would hang out as a collective "f*ck you" directed at the aforementioned bozo.
I like the idea of various body parts linked to natural disasters and the combined results thereby being declared national holidays. How about Ass-Fire Day? Or Dick-Hurricane Day, which men would celebrate by blowing free in the wind. Or Thunder-Balls Day, perhaps in conjunction with Thunder-Thighs Day.
Bunker Hill Day sounds pretty boring now, doesn't it?
Labels:
boobs,
comedy,
earthquake,
holidays,
humor,
Iran,
modesty,
national disasters
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Space haiku
Spending bucks on space
hey, launch those phallic missiles
or just compare size
Drink your Tang through straws
eat those fake chocolate thingys
pee into a tubeIf we spend enough
we can build new colonies
when we've f*cked up Earth
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Thong Runs Amok
So a woman has been attacked by her underwear. Personally, I've always been apprehensive about wearing underwear that sports any form of hard object near vital parts that could pop off, ricochet against said parts and disappear into the abyss. Perhaps she was lucky it hit her in the eye.
Apparently, the injured woman is suing Victoria's Secret, where she bought the offending thong. I can't help but wonder if she considered the ramifications before arriving at that decision. Did she not realize that, from this point on, her name will forever be associated with homicidal lingerie, and she will be the object of countless Jay Leno jokes and skits on Saturday Night Live? What will happen the next time she interviews for a new job? "Hey, aren't you the woman who sued Victoria's Secret for selling you homicidal underwear?" Might be difficult for her to ever be taken seriously again.
Of course, it could have been worse. At least it didn't get stuck in an orifice and have to be surgically removed.
Apparently, the injured woman is suing Victoria's Secret, where she bought the offending thong. I can't help but wonder if she considered the ramifications before arriving at that decision. Did she not realize that, from this point on, her name will forever be associated with homicidal lingerie, and she will be the object of countless Jay Leno jokes and skits on Saturday Night Live? What will happen the next time she interviews for a new job? "Hey, aren't you the woman who sued Victoria's Secret for selling you homicidal underwear?" Might be difficult for her to ever be taken seriously again.
Of course, it could have been worse. At least it didn't get stuck in an orifice and have to be surgically removed.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
More Haiku - In the Park
Flowers are blooming
drunk couple yelling curses I hurry along.
Geese flock on the field
they come close to me, honking
Don't make eye contact.High school football team
their coach shouts insults at them
sounds like an assholeCouple making out
roll around in a blanket
I step over them.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Spring Haiku
nose finally stops running
ditch the Kleenex stashthe fragrance of spring
up and down Commonwealth Ave.
scent of thawed dog shit
sunflowers in yards
nod their heads impatiently
it's horny season
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