sweatin the small stuff

From the “when crack just won’t do” department………………….

comes a story from the far north of where stinkin assed kids as young as twelve years old are licking toads in an attempt to get high. And if licking the ass of a toad isn’t bad enough the little bed wetters are even drying out the skins of toads and rolling them up as joints to get a hit. Health authorities have warned that those who lick or smoke the local northern toads are dancing with death and stress that there is no getting high from the shit excreted by the toads which according to my many inside sources are called Cane Toads.

In fact, sucking the hither end of a Cane Toad is considered by many locals one of the dumber ways a muthafucker can die. We’re talking about a very serious risk of seizures, a rapid loss of consciousness, cardio-vascular collapse and death.

Now according to my many inside sources who, and trust a muthafucker when he says this, are unusually fuckin knowledgeable when it comes to getting high. Tell me that the little self fisters need to get hip and travel to the Sonoran Desert that stretches from southeastern California across the southern half of Arizona and extends south into Sonora, Mexico.

There the little crumb snatchers will find the Psychedelic Toad of the Sonoran Desert. Which they tell me emits a thick mucus like milky-white venom that contains large amounts of the potent hallucinogen, 5-MEO-DMT. When vaporized by heat and taken into the lungs in the form of smoke, this shit produces an incredibly intense psychedelic experience of incredibly short duration. And they tell me there are no hangovers or harmful effects. And yeah, I can see myself smoking toad spooge as soon as I start running that five minute mile. I’ll leave that shit to the damn dirty hippies.



And now from the “well, it sounded like a good idea at the time” department…….

comes a story of an international flight out of the Philippines readying it’s self for departure when everything ground to a screeching halt. It seems that passengers were all buckled up and shit when a crew member spotted what looked to be a mouse darting across an aisle. The ensuing mouse action triggering a chase that grounded the airliner at Manila airport for more than 12 hours.

The airline told almost two-hundred and fifty paying passengers to unass the airplane and after unloading hundreds of pieces of luggage brought the huge airliner to a hangar for a two-hour fumigation. The deadly rodent was never found, which means it somehow skillfully sneaked past security or it’s still on the plane deader then a muthafucker and stinking shit up.

My many inside sources tell me that there was an incident before with a cockroach, but it's the first time they recall the airline having to deal with a mouse in such a way that it actually delayed a flight. The head operations chief of the Manila International Airport Authority when asked “what the fuck” was quoted as saying that rodents are a danger to airplanes because they can chew up important electrical wiring. And for us to get the fuck up out of his business if we didn’t mind.




And lastly from the “hi, this is Paul Harvey, and now the rest of the story” department…………

comes a postscript to a story that happened way back in March. Remember Brian Nichols, the cat who killed all those people whilst escaping from a courthouse in downtown Atlanta? And during the huge manhunt hid out in this chick’s house where she supposedly talked him into giving himself up? It was the story that fascinated the entire nation. How in the fuck did a single mom manage to convince a killing muthafucker like that to surrender to the cops before anybody else got whacked?

Well it seems that Ashley Smith, the woman who was taken hostage by courthouse killer Brian Nichols is telling her story in a new book called “Unlikely Angel” The Untold Story of the Atlanta Hostage Hero. Did she pray with him? Did she seduce him with her womanly wiles whilst giving up the pussy? Did she throw him a basketball and distract him in a quick game of hoops?

Well, if you read her book and can hold your stomach as you wind past all the pages filled with childhood pictures of Ashley Smith, her wedding pictures and photos of her daughter and other dull bullshit. You’ll come to the part where she gives a detailed account of what happened in the early morning hours of March twelfth where she fesses up to giving the accused killer some of her stash of crystal methamphetamine.

According to my many inside sources she gave him some crystal meth, otherwise known as redneck heroin, dummy dust, crank, some of the ole blue belly, a little taste of the albino poo, a party with Debbie, Tina, And Crissy, Hawaiian salt, a visit with the Jenny Crank Program. Yup, bitch got him higher then a muthafucker and walked his stoned ass right out the front door to the cops.

My many inside sources also tell me that after learning of this revelation the Atlanta cops generously decided not to press charges against Ms. Smith for having the illicit drug in her possession. And on a parting note, just how fuckin high does a muthafucker have to be that after killing folks and shit and hiding out, he just walks the fuck out to the cops?




"and the monkey flipped the switch"

blast from the past

A few day’s ago I was sitting in the bar and I got to thinking about things. Nothing earth shattering, just day-to-day shit. Here’s what’s up, I think that if you’re under twenty-five you got no fucking business saying “back in the day”. Your “back in the day” was what, high school?

I think the movie was right, “you can build a thousand bridges, but suck one cock and you’re known forever as a cocksucker.

Those ads in the back of publications that ask, “gay, bi, curious?” I like to say no, I’ve never been curious. At least not curious enough to take a dick up the ass just to see if I like it. “not that anything’s wrong with that” though I don’t mind ogling the occasional well racked transvestite.

I think that unless you got gray hair or scars you need to put that cigar down. There’s nothing worse then watching some fresh-faced pussie sucking on a cigar. And don’t even get me started on women who smoke cigars.

This is admittedly a strange one. I hate watching women do high-fives. I just think its so un-lady like. I rather watch some chick pick up quarters with her ass cheeks then do a high-five. I think that women who go on the Howard Stern show begging for a tit job or liposuction need to get a clue. But if getting degraded on national TV just to get plastic surgery makes em happy. Cool.

Show me a rapper whose a real-deal and not just some trumped up role playing women beating gold tooth capped ass hanging out dick who can’t go five minutes with out using the words Nigger or bitch, I might buy their music.

Does the Morgan Stanley commercials featuring the Morgan Stanley guy who’s practically a member of the family creep anyone else as much as it does me? I’m sorry but my opinion is that if there’s someone out there that knows that much about me or my family, I really hope I’m fuckin em.

Oh, on a different note a good female friend once told me that I write propaganda. Does anybody else out there think that? Another word for propaganda is “misinformation”. Another word for misinformation is lies. I write about what I think. I write about shit I’ve experienced in my life. I don’t write propaganda. I’m not here to change the world; I just want to give my opinions on it.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

intelligent design equals Stargate

So this morning whilst making myself pretty for work I got to thinking about the big ongoing debate on intelligent design and shit. And whilst I think of myself as an open book kind of cat and more open to other type shit then most muthafuckers. To understand things the way I do I tend to break shit down to its most basic level and build up from there until I have a clear understanding of the thing.

So in my head when I break down intelligent design here’s what I get. If intelligent design is such that the scope of things, meaning life, the universe, ourselves, all the shit that surrounds us is of such a complicated state that it must be assumed that “everything” exhibits the characteristics of being designed by a higher intelligence rather then thrown together all akimbo and shit by evolution. And if the courts who of course are full of the brightest and wisest support intelligent design and tell the schools to start teaching it.

Then does that mean that the government supports the fact that earth was seeded by the big headed aliens and that Roswell really happened and Chariots of the Gods and all the kind of shit is true. And UFO’s are the keepers of the herd stopping by the big pasture that is Earth checking the crop.

Which to me means that if intelligence design is wholly supported means that there is no true gods and we’ve had it wrong all these years and that millions of muthafuckers have died in the name of their fake god. And that we should all be worshiping some big headed Gray in a lab coat who goes by the name of “PcP738734(7..n”.

Anyway, that’s just how it all breaks down to me if anyone gives a shit.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

couch time

whatever Rusty


















This weekend I rented the movie “Alexander”, and after throwing it into the DVD I fast forwarded to the sex scene featuring what’s his name and Rosario Dawson. Watched it four or five times I did. Then after that I put in the movie “Monster’s Ball” and did the same thing just to see Halle Barry buck assed nekked making the sign of the sweaty beast. I know I should feel cheap and common but how can something that feels so good be wrong?…………………………And don't even ask me what the fuckin movies were about cause there wern't no time for sightseeing and shit.


"and the monkey flipped the switch"

cracker blues

If it wasn’t for women men would still be crawling around buck assed nekked pulling bugs out of our asses. A woman can say she loves you, then in the same breath reach into your chest and yank out your still beating heart, kiss it, throw it on the fuckin floor then put her 6 inch stiletto heel thru it. And must of us haven’t even realized it yet cause we’re still staring at her tits. And afterwards we’ll swear to god that we’ll never let a women do that to us again, but next month there’s our heart on the floor getting spiked.

I lived with the stressed out Italian stripper for some years and she was a serious head case, but I loved the shit out of her. Every day in our house was defcon 4 and it was fucking insane the shit I dealt with. But when she finally moved out I missed all the noise. Even now years later I’ll be somewhere and smell the perfume she used to wear and I’ll get all anxious and shit.

For relaxation and such I’ll sit at the bar and watch women. I don’t really want to talk to them or try to pick up on them, I just enjoy watching em cause it make me happy. Some men try to make women kneel to em and this is kind of fucked up I think. Why would anyone want to put or keep down something as wonderful as a woman? Do you realize that in the animal world the female is the dominate species?

I knew a woman once who had a burglar break into her house when it was just her and the kids’ at home. She shoved the kids into a back bedroom and went after the burglar. She got busted up a bit but the guy went to the ER with an apple peeler in his chest. All she wanted was to protect what was hers. Even though some of em break my heart on a regular basis and no amount of duct tape can cover the holes in it, women rock. And I think I’m man enough to say that.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

sweatin the small stuff

From the “get yer tickets to the donkey show right here” department………….

comes a story of stalwart men with close cropped hair in small dark rooms fighting injustice in America. Yes, I can only be speaking of the muthafuckin FBI and their new anti-obscenity squad which has been formed to enforce the Bush administration’s War on Porn or otherwise known as WOP.

Last month, the bureau's Washington Field Office began recruiting for the new anti-obscenity squad. Attached to the job posting was a memo from FBI headquarters to all FBI field offices, describing the new squad as one of the top priorities of the FBI.
According to my many inside sources the new squad will divert eight agents, a supervisor and assorted support staff to gather evidence against "manufacturers and purveyors" of pornography, not the kind exploiting children like a muthafucker might think, or the insidious “white slave trade” but the kind that depicts, and is marketed to, free thinking, tax paying, law abiding, consenting adults.

My many inside sources were able to find some FBI agents in a local Washington bar knocking back a few, who were more then happy under the condition of anonymity to speak their fuckin minds since being known to poke fun at headquarters is not regarded as exactly career-enhancing.

"I guess this means we've won the goddamned war on terror, we must not need any more resources for spying and shit like that"

said one really pissed FBI agent, as he slid off his barstool to go to the shitter.

The FBI memo stated that applicants for the porn squad should have a stomach for the kind of material that tends to be most offensive to local juries. Community standards -- along with a prurient purpose and absence of artistic merit -- define criminal obscenity under current Supreme Court doctrine.

Based on a review of past successful cases, the memo said, the best odds of conviction come with pornography that "includes bestiality, urination, defecation, as well as sadistic and masochistic behavior." Hmmmm, did you notice nobody mentioned anal sex? (thank god, …shit did I just fuckin write that?) But fuckin animals, peeing on each other, crapping up a wad of stinkfinger on your girlfriend or beating each other with whips will bring the wrath of the FBI down on your perverted ass.

For those of you that care, for example public corruption, officially, is fourth on the FBI's priority list, after protecting the United States from terrorist attacks, foreign espionage and cyber-based attacks. Just below those priorities are civil rights, organized crime, white-collar crime and "significant violent crime." The guidance from FBI headquarters does not mention where pornography fits in.






From the “lookie here, this here airplane got TV’s all over the place” department……….

comes a story ripped from the headlines where this week all of America stopped watching Hurricane Rita moosefuck the gulf long enough to witness the plight of JetBlue Flight 292, where just after leaving Burbank, California on its way to New York, it was discovered that the nose landing gear had somehow gotten all skewed and shit. Something had fucked up and instead of retracting the nose gear had turned to where the wheels were pointed across the body of the plane.

So the plane was diverted to the nearby Los Angeles airport where massive amounts of emergency equipment were awaiting the faulty airliner. As the airliner circled the LA airport burning off fuel it was noted by MSNBC reporters that the plane had over a hundred and forty people on board. It was also noted that since this was an Airbus A320, every seat had it’s own TV monitor and that MSNBC had the exclusive contract for JetBlue and that muthafuckers on the plane were most likely viewing the same fucked up shit everybody else in America was. Which was this fuckin airliner with fucked up landing gear circling the fuckin airport burning off fuckin fuel before it attempted a fuckin landing. How fucked up is that shit?

See, just betwixt me you and the many unknown sources, I don’t dig the flying. Every time I fly I go thru the same shit. As the plane takes off I’m staring out the window thinking, “ok, if we fall from this high up I might make it……ok, this high I might make it…..ok if this muthafucker falls from this high up I’m so fucked”. Or as it climbs up gaining altitude I imagine my seat snapping loose, flinging me to the back of the plane where I lie crumpled in a dead heap.

And don’t even get me started on if I’m sitting there eating my peanuts watching the television monitor in the seat in front of me. And the news breaks in and there’s this really familiar looking plane flying along and all muthafuckers are talking about is that it has fucked up landing gear and how is it gonna land. Only to hear the captain come over the PA system explaining that we’re being diverted to Los Angeles because of a slight problem with the plane. Then my attention snaps back to the TV as the reporter explains that the plane I’m watching on the TV is being diverted to LA. “Man, how odd is that I think as I gaze out the window”.

Suddenly I see the picture zooming in on the plane on the monitor where they show a close up of the fucked up landing gear. As the unseen camera zooms in the reporter mentions that you can even see some of the passengers in the plane. I’m thinking that those poor bastards on that plane are so fucked until I see one of the faces of one of the passengers looking out the window. “Hmmm, that’s a good looking muthafucker, too bad he’s gonna die…….wait the fuck up….that’s me looking at me looking at me…….lawdy we’s gonna die”!

Yup, that would have to be some rough shit watching your own televised drama unfold before your very eyes. And I quote from the passengers,

“It was very weird. It would've been so much calmer without" the televisions”

“it was "surreal" to watch the plane's fate being discussed on live TV while it was in the air”

"I wanted to call my dad to tell him I'm alive so far"

"At the end it was the worst because you didn't know if it was going to work, if we would catch fire. It was very scary”

“Grown men were crying like little slapped bitches"

But luckily for everyone involved the pilot was this badass muthafucker who was so cool under pressure that he joked that he was sorry he put the plane down 6 inches off the center line and that Airbus made one goddamn sturdy airplane.

All of America watched as the pilot did his rendition of a shuttle landing by balancing the jet on the rear landing gear for as long as he could before letting it settle down gently on the broken nose gear where it very smoothly skidded to a safe stop. All that was missing was the pilot throwing out the devil horns thru the cockpit window and telling everyone that he’d be available to receive blowjobs in the airport bar.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

can't think of a title

yo, one of these days I'm gonna be a famous actor and action star
and do movies with my muthafucker Samual Jackson. fuck the police!

I’ve been sicker then a muthafucker for the past few days, don’t know if it’s a bad cold or what. All I know is that I’ve been feeling like something the fuckin dog puked up. The worst thing about what ever the fuck I’ve got is that it takes away my focus, and it’s hard to concentrate on anything, yeah, that and the headaches plus the coughing, and my stinking brains leaking out of my nose. So as a result I’ve been stuck here at home either lying on the couch or sleeping.

Since I was doing nothing I did rent “the hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy”. When I was a kid, Douglas Adams and this book was more or less required reading if you thought of yourself as any kind of a science fiction nut. But like most things British, it was something you had to ease yourself into, kind’a like Monty Python. So after putting it into the DVD and staggering back to the couch I groggily settled in to enjoy it. And I don’t know if it was because of the way I felt or the alignment of the fuckin planets or what, but after fifteen minutes I turned the muthafucker off due to it being a hugely boring mess.

I ended up turning the TV back on and watching the “Golden Girls” instead. And speaking of the “Golden Girls”, can someone please tell me why this show is still on the air and why is it still so popular? What is it about four old crusty bitches living in Miami that keeps it all over the fuckin cable? Anyway, back to another DVD I watched which was “Triple X, state of the union”.

I remember watching the first Triple X with Michelle who had friends that were BMX bikers and skateboarders, so she knew a little bit about those sports. I found the first one amusing but she was constantly in danger of spitting a lung up due to all the “cool” “extreme” stunts what’s his name kept pulling off in the movie. Now this one didn’t have what’s his name in it, but had instead Mr. I used to be a hard rapper and fuck the police and all that good shit, Ice Cube.

Now I have to give ole Ice Cube his props, his “Friday” movies that he wrote have made him a fuckin ton of money and he seems to have a good business sense about him. But short squatty Ice Cube as someone’s action hero seems to stretch the fuckin imagination a bit don’t it? And Samuel Jackson needs to find those Polaroid’s muthafucker’s must have so he can stop doing stupid shit like this.

That’s the only reason I can think of when an established movie star like Sam does crap like this. Back in the day when he was a young broke starving actor looking for gigs and had to resort to blowjobs in the back room to make rent, somebody must’a snapped off a few rolls of film and shit. So now it’s like hey Sam, how bouts you co-star in my new project? Oh, and before you say fuck you, I got pictures.

PS. I just watched the season premier of “My name is Earl”. It rocks.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

happy birthday

Today’s my mother’s sixty-eight birthday and I thought I’d yank something out of the archives featuring her. I love her to death and there’s never been a time when she hasn’t had my back. Plus she lets me store my bike over her house.

My mother’s a piece of art all by herself. She’s getting kind of long in the tooth these days and her swing isn’t as quick as it used to be, but she’s still a contender. You know her and my father was married for forty three years, and get this. They knew each other since early childhood, that’s what happens when you’re both raised in the same small town in West Texas and that’s a lot of years to be seeing the same face even though she wishes it could have been more.

Years ago I scored a backstage pass to meet BB King through an old roommate who knew members of the band in a “biblical” way. And since my mother’s a huge blues fan I decided to take her so she could meet and hear the master at work. They were playing at the Uptown Theater here in town and we had sweet seats near the stage. We’re sitting there listening to BB do his thing when this chick I knew walks up to the table.

Have I ever mentioned that if you were to see me and my mother together you’d have trouble believing she was my mother? Well the chick sure didn’t. Me and the chick used to be kind’a close if you know what I talking about. So she sees my mother sitting there with me and gets the wrong idea. The first thing she does is kisses me on the cheek then tells my mother to get up out’a the seat.

My mother say’s; “that’s my baby I’m sitting with if you don’t mind”. The chick tells my mother that I’m “her” baby and she needs to go find some other man to sit with. Of course I’m off to the side taking bets on my mother who I knew from experience had an evil left hook that just devastates. Both women were getting all facial on each other when I decided to break it up. I asked my mother to calm down and told the chick to apologize.

I ended up telling my mother for years afterwards I couldn’t take her anywhere. Some years later it was my thirtieth birthday and I figured I’d do it up something special and invite every woman I knew over to the apartment for a birthday party. To my credit I actually had around fifteen women show up. Talk about your laid back who do. See, back in the day I had a thing where that every women I knew had to meet each other. It made for one big happy family and it kept the bullshit down. Of course there were the exceptions to the rule.

The Violent Stripper Chick had a hard time with that rule and the Stressed out Italian Stripper had issues also. But back to the party, did I tell you that my Mother showed up? For years whenever my Mother would call my place she’d never know if she’d get to talk to me or not. If the Stressed out Italian Stripper answered the phone and she thought I was tired or busy she had no problem hanging up on my Mother.

I’d go visit my mother and she always ask me how was the evil bitch doing. I worked hard to make sure the two never meet. But with the party going on and all I completely let things slip. My Mother had baked me this birthday cake and had it sitting on the dining room table all nice and shit. About an hour into the party the backdoor banged open and in came the Stressed out Italian Stripper, and she had her own birthday cake.

She walked into the dining room and I swear to god picked up my mother’s cake and put it in the kitchen sink, then put her cake in its place. My mother freaked.

“Who’s this bitch and why’s she touching my fuckin cake”?

I heard someone in the living room holler out; “that’s Greg’s evil stripper roommate”.

“Oh, so you’re the bitch always hanging up on me whenever I try to call Greg”

To make a long story short I had to step between the two of em. But at least they got to meet, and I had a memorable thirtieth birthday party.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

blast from the past.......flat foot women

Most stupid spam of the day.

“Hi, Here I like to find nice American or West European man to be friend with and maybe come there. Most Men here not well with women and winters not very much warm”

I came across this dumb fuckin message in my inbox at home this morning, I can’t describe…or maybe I can, how fuckin pissed I get whenever I get bullshit like this. Are there really muthafucker’s out there that go for this crap? I used to know this dickless bastard that after getting punked by every chick he met due to him being a tad bit of an asshole he decided to get himself one of these mail order brides.

Cat went over to Malaysia and climbed up to this village in the hills to meet this native girl that he had supposedly been communicating with by phone and mail. He came back to town all excited and shit talking about how she was the perfect women for his ass. I wanted to know how she was so perfect cause I knew this muthafucker ran thru women around here like a corn thru a dog. “She’s perfect; she’s compliant to all my needs and keeps her head down when I talked to her. Her learned skills are very basic and all she wants to do is cook and clean for me and fulfill my every need.

Then to make it even odder as if that could even happen, he went on to tell me how flat and splayed out her feet were from walking mountain trails barefooted. Well, to make a short story shorter the dumbass poke boy brought this chick back after paying some huge dowry to her plate lipped father. After a couple of months she learned her way around and got herself a lawyer and left this stupid bastard in the fuckin dust. It seems like our boy was the mark and got used like a dirty tampon. Last I heard she and her big assed feet are pole dancing over in Kansas somewhere. Stupid sad-sack bastard got what he deserved. Fuck the stupid.

I watched the Anna Nichole show last night and I came away thinking, “what a fuckin ho”. Actually I could only stand fifteen minutes of it before I turned it off. I could deal with the gaining weight thing cause Ann’s always been a big chick and healthy women rock, but the little Barbie voice and perpetually stoned look is just a turn off.

I understand that it got one of the largest cable ratings in history for an opening show but I predict that it’ll go downhill from there. I just can’t see watching a fat drugged out ho going about her day very interesting. And speaking of ho’s with huge tits; the other night in the Cane was silicone drink for free night.

I refuse to tag a woman as a stripper simply because she’s wearin a short sundress or a halter top and supporting a rack bigger then most men’s heads but whatever they do for a living the bar was full of em. I had a couple of em sit next to me and they seemed annoyed because Steve and me seemed to ignore em.

But you gots to understand that we’re old heads at this kind of shit. Hell, as soon as they walked thru the fuckin door we had em cataloged by weight, height and bra size. But it was a nice view when the one wearin the sundress and the full on set of enhanced 44D’s decided to do a full stretch while sitting next to me. You could’ a set an ashtray on those muthafucker’s. Word.

And I noticed an odd thing about all the chicks with big tits; they were all checkin each others tits out. It was very cool the way they did it, they’d make a point of staring at the other chick till they got their attention and then they’d give the racks the full on once over. I wonder do guys with big cocks do the same thing?

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

sweatin the small stuff

From the “great jumping jehosaphat, what the fuck is that?” department ……….

comes a story from across the great pond of an English laddie who only wanted to crash in front of the telly whilst knocking back a few stouts. While sitting on the couch he noticed a slight rustling amongst some papers and books he had stacked around his TV.

He moved in for a closer look fully expecting find a mouse or some such type of smallish furry shit but instead came eyeball to eyeball with this muthafucker that looked like it came from the planet of the fuckin Krakens and shit.

According to my many inside sources, what the cat found looking back at him was something overly ejaculated entomologists call a “Scolopendra gigantea” which is Latin for “goddamn that’s some big fuckin bug”. It happens to be a venomous giant centipede that somehow made its way from South America and is considered at almost ten inches the world's biggest species of centipede.

Yeah, we’re talking about a fuckin insect that’s so bad ass it’s diet consist of lizards, frogs and any bird slow enough to get in it’s way. See that’s why when I’m at home and hear something skittering around in the trash or my bookcase I always know the first thing to do. I get the fuck out of the house. If something like that crawled out from behind my couch you’d be able to find me by the trail of shit I’d leave as I run screaming like a little slapped bitch out the door.




From the “it wasn’t me and that’s my story and I’m sticking by it” department………

comes a story of a simple woman whose only wish was to visit the great city of Chicago and see the sights. She was hanging out at the Ghirardelli Chocolate Company in downtown Chicago when she suddenly got her load on, and had to go take a shit in the store’s restroom. She’s sitting there flipping thru a magazine thinking what most of us think when shitting somewhere other then home. Which if you’re me is usually why is the fuckin toilet paper so goddamned hard to peel off the stinkin roll?

Anyway as she’s sitting there trying to get the toilet paper to unroll, she noticed the lid of the trashcan against the far wall moving. As she watched the lid lifted to expose a pair of man’s eyes peeking from underneath the lid at her? It seemed that the far wall joined the men’s restroom with the women’s and they both shared a common trashcan with a metal lid on each side of the adjoining wall. And the trashcan had been altered so that someone on the men’s side could view inside the women’s restroom.

My many inside sources tell me that as soon at the peeper in the men’s restroom noticed the woman looking at him, he jumped up and ran for the hills. The woman claims that a male employee bumped into her on her way into the bathroom, and after she went inside, her fiancé watched as the same employee went into the men's restroom next to it. It now goes without saying that the woman got herself one of those good Chicago lawyers and is currently suing the fuck out of the chocolate store. And no word yet on why she was taking a shit with the stall door open.





And lastly from the “somebody’s baby’s daddy” department…………….

comes the news that Brittany Spears had a baby boy this week. According to my many inside sources, Britney and Kevin have named their baby Sean Preston and he weighed in at 6 pounds, 11 ounces. Britney arrived to the UCLA hospital on Wednesday morning under heavy police escort with husband Kevin by her side.

And speaking of my many inside sources, here they all come now………….”

how come you guy’s are carrying knives and shit”……”ALL HAIL…THE SON OF SATAN IS BORN”…….”THE MASTER LIVES AMONGST US”………. “ALL HAIL”……..”the fuck, get away from me with those knives….ouch….stop that”…..”ARRRRRGHHHH…..SATAN COMMANDS US TO BRING BABY SEAN A HUMAN SACRIFICE”………………”dammit, you crazy cocksuckers get away from me….shit stop sticking me with those knives….you stupid mindless spawns of evil…away I say……..away…….help…help”….”SATAN IS BORN….SATAN IS BORN…….BABY SEAN DEMANDS FRESH FOOD……..ARRRRRGHHHH”……………………………….

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

the Amish connection

I was hanging out at the farmers market early one Saturday morning. Every so often I get an itch and try to act like I got a life and do something different. So I’m sitting there on a bench eating an apple and a couple of Amish women walk by. No big deal, I wave and they walk faster, nothing out of the norm, but it got me to thinking about the time I got pulled over by the Amish. By the way, am I the only person that when I eat an apple, I eat it core and all? Just curious.

Back during the Great Midwest Flood in the early nineties, the MAN had me pulling duty as a federal courier. On a typical day I would drive to Carrolton, Mo, St Joe, Moberly, Mo and a bunch of other small towns within a three to five hundred mile radius. I do believe that during this period I probably visited every small town in Missouri between St. Louis and the Kansas line.

The MAN had me driving this bigass four wheel drive Suburban, what a sweet ride. I had cell phones, CB’s, short wave radio, and all kinds of cool shit hooked up in that thing. In all the years I’ve worked for The MAN that was the coolest duty I’ve ever had to pull. I got to travel around the state, meet some damn nice people and drive a cool vehicle to boot. The best thing about it, I wasn’t stuck in the office. Such a deal.

During all this I had this route I ran between Carrolton and Moberly, Mo. I’d found this real nice two lane stretch of blacktop that was in the middle of nowhere. One day I was blowing up this road when about a half mile ahead I saw a bunch of buggies sitting on the road. As I slowed down and came to a stop I watched as a dozen men or so dressed in coveralls and wearing black hats surround my vehicle.

I got out and announced who I was and could I be of service. I was in serious G-Man mode, don’t ya know, anyway these guy’s proceeded to inform me that I was traveling on a privately owned stretch of highway and they were the owners. What they turned out to be were Amish farmers and I was smack in the middle of Amish farm country. They’d seen me driving up and down their road on a daily basis and just wanted to know who I was and all that.

I gotta tell ya, I was real polite to these people. From just watching these folks I got the impression that they walked pretty close to the hand of god if you know what I’m sayin. As a matter of fact, as I was leaving I asked if I could take a picture of them sitting in their buggies. They gave me a polite but firm no; it wasn’t allowed I was told. And even though I had a telephoto lens, the thought of going behind their backs never crossed my mind.

It was so odd, up until then I’d hardly ever seen one of these guys’s, now every time I stopped for gas or a piss they were coming out of the woodwork. Get this; I pulled into this gas station in the middle of nowhere. Sitting at the pump next to me was this nice van with this Amish cat pumping gas into it. First time I’d ever seen one driving a car. But the real trip happened when I walked into the store, there in front of me was this hot little Amish chick wearing a black leather biker jacket over her clothes. I found out later these guy’s worked the Farmers market here in town.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

dust

When do you quit trying? When do you go “enough is enough?” We’ve all thought about it. We all know other people who’s thought about it. Is it the act of a coward or the act of someone picking their time? Is there a right time? Only god knows, and he’s not saying. Even the voices get quiet.

Some of us sail through life without a hitch. We never experience the dark side of things. Yeah, we see it on the TV, but we never have to deal with it. Every day’s a Saturday morning. Then there’s those of us who seem to stumble right out of the womb. We’re always just a fingers grasp from getting it right. You try to stick it out. You know, do it the old cowboy way.

I was raised on old westerns, the good guy wore the white hat and the bad guy was always in black. The good guy was clean shaven, loved his horse and always got the girl. The bad guy was always dirty, hairy jawed and never got the girl. The girl always ran from us. The ending was always the same, the good guy was outnumbered and the odds were against him. But he always came through the cowboy way. He reached out for that one last gut-check and he pulled himself up by his boot straps.

He countered all the odds, beat down the villain and rode off into the sunset with the girl. He never gave up. He had to always see the next sunrise. Some of us are tired of trying, we just want to lie down and let the dust take us. We’ll never get the girl and the bad people always seem stronger. Where’s that last gut-check? Where’s that sunrise?

What’s to keep you going when the dark never wants to leave? The voices can’t tell you, they’re just as frightened as you are. It seems so simple yet complex. Just keep stepping forward, just keep breathing. But you’re so tired. Your bones ache and pain comes with every breath. Through your blurred eyes you see the answer just a fingers grasp away. What color is your cowboy hat?

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

sweatin the small stuff

From the “does anyone want seconds” department……….

comes a story of a wily restaurant owner in China who got his ass busted for advertising tiger meat dishes that instead of being full of nutritious tiger turned out to be nothing but donkey meat marinated in tiger urine, it was reported worldwide on Thursday.

The restaurant, conveniently located beside a tiger reserve near the Chinese city of Hailin, had advertised stir-fried tiger meat with chilies for ninety-eight bucks a plate as well as liquor flavored with tiger bone for seventy-four dollars a bottle.
I found out from my many inside sources that the sale of tiger parts is illegal in China which is what caused local officials to shut down the restaurant. Afterwards only to be told by owner and I quote, “the meat was actually that of donkeys, flavored with tiger urine to give the dish a "special" tang”.

Hmmmm, isn’t that special, the donkey meat was flavored with tiger pee to add that extra zest, or as stinkin assed Emeril Lagasse would say, “bang”! So anyway, officials seized the restaurant’s profits and fined the owner which wasn’t clear since the eating and selling of donkey meat isn’t illegal and heavily eaten in the northeast. And despite intensive digging, my many inside sources were never able to find out how the alleged tiger urine was obtained.

It should also be noted that until China outlawed the trade in 1993, tiger skins, bones and other body parts, were widely sold due to it being that the shit was believed by the stinkin Chinese to imbue vigor and sexual prowess.





From the “mommy, he followed me home, can I keep him please” department…….

comes a story I read some while back where South Korea is taking a unified stand against the capitalist imperial pigs of America. They’re telling PETA and every other round eye muthafucker in sight that eating dog is a national pastime and so good for ya! Korea's been getting all kinds of bad press over this issue and they've had enough of our shit!

According to my many inside sources, Korea’s been eating dog and the occasional stray cat for centuries but there’s also South Korean’s who cherish and love the little furry sacks of meat more then their own kids. What a nation in turmoil. Word on the street from my many inside sources has it that Korean folk eat dog for the sexual vigor that comes after a heaping bowl of poochie chowder, plus it also heals what ails ya.

But there are also Korean people who love dogs so much that they won’t take a job unless they can bring little Sparkie along for the day. And now there are special restaurants that cater to the dog lover crowd, I mean as in Ole Yeller can sit at the bar and lap up the Evian out of his own bowl. And there are still restaurants where a cool Korean cat after polishing off a bowl of spicy crimson soup made of stewed canine, red pepper and sesame leaves can light up a smoke and burp up Fido to his or her hearts content.

Me and the many inside sources agree when we say what right do we have to dictate what’s right or wrong for other people in other countries to eat or not? Hell we enjoy sushi, tar tar (raw ground beef with spices), and escargot. Cow brains and pig knuckles and headcheese and all other kinds of shit I can’t think of. And just the other day I had dinner over my Mother’s house and I watched her and my aunts gleefully knock back plates of ox tails and barbequed pigs feet. The world has enough division without America getting into somebody’s business about what they eat. Give a muthafucker a break why don’t we.




And lastly from the “damn, that’s some fucked up shit” department………

comes the oddest headline of the day;

“Britain urged to crack down on ape meat trade”

It seems that there’s a proliferation of African ape meat being smuggled in the UK and being sold as tasty treats. Kind’a makes dog meat not so important in the whole fuckin scheme of things, eh? People-eating-the-meat-of-Apes. That’s bout fucked as it gets.

My many inside sources after reading this hipped me to a little known fact that dates back to the day’s of British and Spanish exploration. A lot of stories came out of the South American rain forest and parts of darkest Africa about man-eating cannibals.

Some stories were true but most we can call bullshit on due to some shit being found after studying remote tribes in both areas. It seems that to some primitive tribes, monkey meat rocks. Yeah, muthafuckers would go out in the fuckin jungle and do the bum’s rush on monkeys and shit.

They’d drag the monkeys back to the village and throw the dead muthafucker, hair, head and all, into the cooking fire. So when Spanish priests or some old British chap who happened to be hanging out in the village saw what looked to be a human body failing about in the fire, it was actually ole Cheetah being served up for lunch.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

Lieutenant Dan, I got you some ice cream. Lieutenant Dan, ice cream!"

So I’m sitting here in my underwear as I’m sometimes wont to do, and I got to thinking as sometimes I tend to do. And I thought to myself hmmmm, the Kansas City “Pitch” magazine is taking votes for

“Best of 2005”

and they got themselves a blogger category. Now it’s gonna be a pain in the ass cause they want muthafuckers to register and shit, but it’s a small thing to ask if you love me. Cause I love the all of you right?...............of course I do, hell I’m telling folks that all the time and shit…….

Anyway if you click on the highlighted link you all can vote for me and even though it’s not like getting laid it’ll make me very happy and if I win I’ll buy you all ice cream or some such shit. Ok? Cool, so I’m going to bed now to figure out how I’m gonna pay for all the fuckin ice cream I intend to buy.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

my response

These are just some of my personal thoughts and I’m not trying to defend FEMA or pass the buck but here’s the deal as I see it. After 9/11 when FEMA got sucked into the huge bureaucracy that is the Department of Homeland Security I knew we were screwed. Screwed as far as our main mission I mean, which is to render aid during times of disaster.

Where before FEMA was one of the few stand alone federal agencies unfettered by congress, we were able to perform our missions without dealing with the political bullshit some of the other federal agencies have to deal with. But since getting sucked into DHS, it seems that FEMA’s budget has been slashed and we've had to deal with Bush appointed leaders that know nothing of what we were all about or how we perform our mission.

And instead of being able to do our thing, as far as I see it now from DHS all we get is “why do you need this? What’s this for? Can’t you do with less”? So now we got people telling us what to do that only a few years before had never heard of FEMA. And lastly the only thing the Bush administration seems to focus on is terrorism which was fine but focusing all our shit on one thing also took from the other.

I work with normal people everyday that think nothing of putting themselves in harms way by going into a disaster area to aid victims. We had people and equipment in place along the gulf coast waiting on Katrina so that we could begin the process ASAP. But like the Army Corp of Engineers who last year asked for over 200 million to build up the levees and pumps around New Orleans and were told to fuck off by congress and were given only a fraction of what they asked for. We’re tripped up by the same bureaucratic bullshit that’s fuckin people in the gulf coast now. But again these are just the thoughts of one person, me.


And for those of you that are unfamiliar with how FEMA functions here are some crib notes. There are 10 FEMA regions in the country that cover various states. And each region in conjunction with local government, state government and other federal peoples partake in at least 3 to 4 tabletop exercises a year using various disaster scenarios.

And I think the same thing is also done on a national level. But FEMA does insist and encourage event planning on a local and state level. And here’s something a lot of people don’t realize about FEMA, we’re never the first responders into a disaster. Here how it works in short.

..... Take for instance something happens in a large city like a tornado. The local city or county government assesses the damage and if it’s beyond their capabilities they appeal to the state…

......If it’s beyond the state level to deal with the damage the state government will appeal to FEMA who does a write-up of the damage and sends it to Washington…...

.....Washington/president reviews the write-up and signs it as a declaration…..

.....Only then, and I repeat only then can federal monies be released and FEMA goes in and does their thing. And I repeat, as a norm FEMA can only move once the president signs the declaration. This is why you’ll see things happen around the country that we’re not involved in. either because the state has decided they can handle it or for some reason the damage figures didn’t add up in Washington and there was no presidential declaration signed.

Depending on the event or how it impacts the local structure this series of events can take anywhere from hours to a few days. In some events of large magnitude like for instance a deviating event of nature, the president will act quickly skipping steps and declare a disaster. And in the event of things like hurricanes that FEMA can see coming, they’ll do a lot of pre-staging of personnel and equipment in the area so as to be ready like what we did during the Florida hurricanes. But understand this, and think about what I’m saying.

....FEMA is never the first responders to a disaster.

....FEMA needs a presidential declaration signed by the president before any action or federal monies can be released.

....The Army and National Guard only go into an area when requested by a governing body like state or federal. They just don’t hop into their shit and show up out of the clear blue. Remember this is America and the last thing people want is the Army or the National Guard showing up on its streets uninvited.

....The above might help answer the ever popular question of why these groups weren’t in New Orleans the second the rains stopped. The same question has been put forth about hospital ships and such which didn’t arrive in town until a few days later. People, Katrina was a cat 5 hurricane, nothing could travel by land or sea in that kind of weather. But all thing considered, it was damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

Again I’m not trying to pass the buck or overly defend FEMA or whatever; I’m just putting shit down as I know it. Take it as you will. I broke my number one rule which is to never write about the job but after doing this shit for almost sixteen fuckin years I love what I do and believe in our mission. So I had to say something. So stop hatin……

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

what's this, a curse free post?

I went over Monday to put my bike back together since a few weeks ago I picked up a battery at one of the local parts stores here in town fairly cheap due to it being was of the non sealed verity. Which meant that in the box with the battery was a big bottle of battery acid that I had to pour into the battery. And I’m glad to say that I seceded in doing so without doing too much damage to myself. So in it went and back on the charger it got hooked up. Contrary to popular belief I still plan on riding the thing and getting it out on the street.

Whilst there I helped my aged mother put together her brand new purchase, an abdominal roller? My mother kills me, for someone almost seventy years old she’s obsessed with her abs and getting em in shape. More power to her I guess, at least it’ll keep her off the streets. This morning before work I stopped by the Broadway Café to enjoy a delicious iced coffee, and while there the cat behind the counter told me that on Monday the staff donated their tips to the Red Cross to help with the Hurricane Katrina relief effort.

Almost three hundred dollars all told, very impressed I was considering that the coffee shop was only open for a few hours due to the holiday. It made me feel good despite getting hit with twenty questions about the job whilst there on Sunday. Anyway, I know this is a very blasé post and I’ll due better next time I assure you. I’m just not feeling very talkative right now.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

I don't know nothin

First weekend in a long time that I was too tired to hit the bars, shit at work has just been sucking the life out of me. But if you apply it to all things involved it’s not that big a deal if you know what I’m saying. And because of whom I work for I’m getting beat to death out in public with question after question, and again it’s no big deal. I’ll answer every question to the best of my ability but, and this is in answer to some e-mails and such, I can’t or won’t answer em here or talk about work.

In the beginning I talked about the job and even had links to it on here but after reading the writing on the wall a few years ago I removed all references to what I do and unless it’s in a vague kind of way I won’t talk about it here. But I will say that in events like what’s going on in the gulf coast everybody has an opinion, and you can’t believe everything you hear or read.

And if you want to read some good shit about the politics of saving lives from a very cool Blogger go to Josh’s very informative site, “thoughts from Kansas”. He’s been staying on top of everything down south and you can even find me answering some of his questions. But like I tell him, no matter what I say you didn’t hear it from me.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

sweating the small stuff

From the “you and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals
so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel” department…………..

comes the best quote of the week;

“Why does Godzilla protect us? Because there’s a little Godzilla in all of us.”

From the movie Godzilla 2000.

Now this is what I’m talking about, a Godzilla movie with all the right stuff. You had bad special effects and the bad dubbing and they kept the short squatty crusty Godzilla kicking ass and fuckin over the Tokyo landscape. I once heard from my many inside sources that the Godzilla movies are a deep seated physiological response to the atomic horrors that were inflicted upon the Japanese. So in a non-reality sense this reincarnation of Godzilla could represent the Japanese and the UFO he was fighting could represent the United States and that by having Godzilla destroy the UFO that could represent the Japanese people defeating the United States in battle.

Until you figure in the fact that the Japanese are always trying to kill the big horned toad looking muthafucker and then what’s up with the UFO crapping out the Monster that had the big fight with Godzilla? I found that part to very confusing. Then after the big battle to save Tokyo Godzilla was able to pick out then kill the Japanese Minister of Defense. And then you never hear about the Japanese federal aid to rebuild Tokyo or the Red Cross efforts to help the displaced families. A very entertaining film but also very confusing.

I can’t help but notice that the international fight over eating dog is picking up speed. Now I see that they’ve even out’ed the stinkin Swiss as being puppy noshers. I think that if I were a dog living overseas instead of licking my balls I’d start earning favor by licking my master’s balls instead. I can’t wait for Chef Emeril Lagasse to feature dog on his show, or better yet my favorite show “Good Eats”.

My many inside sources told me that back in the day Sioux Indians used dog meat, actually puppy meat, in some of their most sacred ceremonies? Dog, not only Man’s best friend and a food source but culturally useful. That reminds me, I think I’ll see if a friend of mine has the movie “A boy and his dog” in his collection. Some of you older cats might remember this one. It was made in 1975 and starred Don “Miami Vice” Johnson.

He lives in a war torn post-holocaust wasteland and traveled around with this super smart telepathic dog. The climax of the movie came when Don Johnson found himself a woman and they were starving and wondering what to do for food. The scene faded with Don and the women looking at the dog. The next scene showed Don and the dog sitting around the campfire picking their teeth and the women gone.










Now from the “do I make you randy” department……..

comes a story I read today on one of the news sites about some cat convicted of having sex with cows. It seems that he’s been banging the herd since he was twelve years old. I suspect he’s not alone. In the small town where some of my many inside sources came from they had this one guy who’d fuck cows so hard they die. The cat wore these waders and what he’d do was sneak behind ole Bossy and stick her back feet inside his waders and off to bang town he’d go.

From what they told me the dude was built like a retard John Holmes. So as a result of this he’d rupture the cow and they’d die from internal bleeding. Makes for an interesting visual doesn’t it. It’s a hot day in West Texas and out in the green fields among all the cow shit is ole stupid Junior banging the bejesus out of some cow who’s bawling it’s ass off.

He’s wearing nothing but some old ripped up overalls and a pair of mud caked waders and smacking that cow ass and singing old Negro spirituals at the top of his lungs. Swing low sweet chariot come to take me home. Which is interspersed with cries of “I’m ah fuckin, I’m ah fuckin! Enough to make you want to pull the trigger isn’t it? But then again, better ole Bossy then your sister, huh?









And lastly from the “Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream” department……..

comes a confession I have to make. I have a serious problem sleeping at times and the sleep depravation sometimes makes me do strange things. Like the time I spent one morning scrubbing my kitchen floor naked. I swear to god, if you had seen me you would have thought I was on crack or meth or some shit like that.

Want to know a cool thing? If you don't have a mop, just put a large towel on the floor, get barefoot and step on the towel. Then you start doing like a choo choo train, shuffling your feet all over the floor. Try to get that picture out of your heads. As a treat to myself I thought I'd go to Gates Barbecue here in town for a late lunch.

I get there and the place is stupid with people, spilling out the door and all that. I'd forgotten about all the tourist in town that weekend, what a mess. So I get inside and the girls finely see me. If you've never been to Gates and you're not black, it can seem kind’a alarming cause from the time you hit the door you got black folks screaming at you. Hell, if you’re black it's alarming. “HI, CAN I HELP YOU!!!”

So as they screamed at me I prepared to use my outside voice to scream my order right back at em. I opened my mouth to scream my order out and not a damn thing happened. My voice somehow had left me. Excuse my language please, "how muthafuckin embarrassing". Somewhere between the sleepless night, scrubbing my kitchen floor naked, and that afternoon, I had lost the ability to speak. Damn bad timing. The girls at Gates kept screaming at me and I kept trying to speak. I ended up walking out in shame and horror. If I close my eyes I can still hear their shrill harpy like voices, “HI, CAN I HELP YOU! HI, CAN I HELP YOU!” Over and over and over, like a bad evil echo in my brain. It may be years before I can eat there again. Bitches.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

rat bastard reporting

I swear to god, the way some news agencies report or portray the news is utter bullshit.


"and the monkey flipped the switch"