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Punched In The Face – Bare Minimum Punishment

This is Awesome. It’s an old news story that got me to post about this but its worth it based on current events. I was reading a great report about how low job satisfaction is.

Basically: “Americans of all ages and income brackets continue to grow increasingly unhappy at work – a long-term trend that should be a red flag to employers” Amen Father can I have a wafer with that? Then I came across the evidence that this is true. I Cannot Tell A Lie. When I read that in late 2008 Lehman Brothers CEO Dick (appropriate name for him) Flud waspunched in the face while he was running on a treadmill andknocked cold – I felt a bit of glowing happiness inside. To the guy who had the balls to punch that shit-sack in the face: Thank You.

Hey, violence is never a good answer, but lets be real. Put scared animals (employees) in a corner when as the CEO (I like to call them “Conscious Exempt Organisms”) you are netting hundreds of millions of dollars in bonuses (when you already have hundreds of millions) for destroying the U.S and possibly the world economies, you are going to have some lash-outs. Sorry. You reap what you sow. Regular employees get the shit stick for your failures and you get hundreds of millions in bonus. Yeah. When that happens you can expect to get punched in the face at a bare minimum. Flud is lucky that his head wasn’t then stomped into the office grade carpeting. 

Get a load of this great image for the upcoming movie The Crazies which is a remake of the 1973 version of the same name:

Now, if that there isn’t the spitting image of the disaffected laid-off masses – victims of nationwide Corporate White Collar Crime – I don’t know what is! Lets call him “Greg.”

According to the report of worker satisfaction, it could be inferred that more people like Greg will become dissatisfied in their work. When the Conscious Exempt Organisms are raping the general population, folks like Greg there just don’t take kindly to that sort of thing. Especially when Greg faces losing his job, dog, cat, fish, car, TV, clothes, home, family, furniture, food, life purpose, and finally sanity.

And the possibility exists that rich assholes are carrying weaponsto protect themselves from “populist uprising” – that is a scary thought. I guess they may go to the ultimate end to protect their fancy pants, eh? I sure hope they have high capacity magazines and are willing to use them, because the disaffected like Greg outnumber them by a massive scale. Greg above may not be able to purchase a gun, but pitchforks are really not a good alternative if you are on the receiving end. 

Are the Conscious Exempt Organisms ready when guys like Greg come a-knockin’ ?

(NOTE: the gun toting banker thing has apparently been debunked, but come on – are they really going to say “I’m packin’ heat all you laid off poor bitches.”) 

Probably not.

Cheating? DON’T Send An Email To Explain!!

Check this out. The first part is an email from some chick apologizing for cheating, the second part is the guys response.



It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now, I feel like the worst person ever. First, let me start by saying that I am truly truly sorry, and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I would ever want to wrong in any way. There is no excuse at all or anything that happened, so I won’t even try other than to say all of us had WAY too much to drink, and I did a stupid thing. I can handle you being pissed at me, I absolutely deserve it, I can even handle the ugly words that were exchanged between us, what I can’t handle is thinking that you see me as a different person.

It is weird, I feel like I just went through a horrible break up or something. The world looked funny yesterday, I couldn’t crack a smile if you paid me, there are songs I can’t listen to, and I just feel beyond crushed. I don’t know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am hoping that you didn’t. I know that I was wrong on many levels, but I am also hoping that this is something that we can deal with. I know it sounds totally crazy and stupid, but you have come to play such a significant role in my life, I can’t imagine my days without you.

It is totally strange and weird to say that, and you could say that my behavior didn’t reflect that, and you would be correct. I hate feeling like you hate me, and I hate feeling like all of your friends think I am a terrible person, because I am not. I know there is nothing I can Say or do to take back what happened, but I just want you to know that fighting with you was just about the worst thing I could have ever imagined. It was right up there with one of the ugliest nights of my life, and I would give anything in the world to rewind and fix it. I am not sure if you will respond to this, part of me thinks that you won’t. If not today, then maybe some other time.

Also, thanks for getting my stuff together, although I think my sunglasses are still at your house, if you could keep your eyes peeled for them that would be great. I can’t even focus or work today, I can’t eat, I seriously feel like it was an ugly break up, and I am hoping against hopes that it was not that and you are not done with me. Please don’t cut me off, I really don’t think I can handle that.

I am so sorry.



Dear Elizabeth,

Thank you for your concern. I’ll be sure to file it away under “L” for “Long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn’t care less about”.

You did a stupid thing huh? No…doing long division and forgetting to carry the one is “a stupid thing”; Mixing in a red sock with a load of whites is “a stupid thing”; Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45minutes while I sit at the bar wondering if you’re taking so long because you ate too much bran that morning isn’t as much a “Stupid thing” as it is grounds for permanent removal from my social calendar.

To be honest, I’m not sure if it was more amusing that you went and degraded yourself in a public toilet not once but twice in a 2 hour span, or that you seemed to think that by saying “Well, I didn’t F**k him” somehow gave you a clean slate. So forgive me if I couldn’t care less if the world “looked funny” to you yesterday. Since your world revolves around blow dryers, golden retrievers, Prada Bags and Jelly Beans, I’m sure it must have been most unsettling to actually have to consider someone else’s feelings for 24 hours straight. The good news for you is that my friends don’t think you’re a terrible person, they just think you’re the average run of the mill cum-guzzling blonde who commands about as much respect as your average child porn collector. I could be wrong but, it’s pretty hard to respect some B&T chick who comes out to spend the night at my place even though she’s seeing someone else in New jersey and winds up tongue-bathing the taint of anyone who decides 30 minutes of droning commentary on Colin Farrell’s new haircut is worth putting up with for a hand job in the men’s room. The good thing about being a guy is that when I eventually bump into the young lad who finger-blasted you on top of a towel dispenser last saturday, we’ll have a shot and laugh our heads off about the time it happened.

By the way, for the amount of time you claim to spend in spin class you really must be doing something wrong to sport the thunder thighs you do. Watching you parade around my bedroom in a thong was a little like watching sea lions mate. Thought you might like to know.

PS. I forwarded about 100 people on this email.

Talk to you never,


Your Daily Fail

Since we are all indoors being cold, I decided to post this great pic. I cannot imagine showing up at the beach looking like this. Simply and Epic Fail!

Idiocracy – The Greatest Movie Ever?

One thing is for sure: Mike Judge is a genius. If you have not seen the movie Idiocracy by now – you are missing out on a true cult classic, and possibly a window into the real future! Seriously scary (yet hilarious – in a “I want to cry its so funny but true”) sort of way. The opening sequence of this film (below) is easily the most brilliant EVER.

Two thumbs up. Now watch the clips below to get a sense of this brilliant film. Then go away – batin’!

Grocery Store Checkout Causes Heart Attack


Well, didn’t exactly cause a heart attack, but close. Ever been to the grocery store – having to weave your way to get your shit and then – just when you are ready to escape the hell, you wind up trapped in a line? This happened to me today.

It starts off innocent enough. Go to the Fred Meyer and get some shit on the list. OK. My first problem that signals my shopping doom experience: Going to a store I am unfamiliar with. 

Now, most places today are all arranged the same. You know what you are going to get and where to get it. Why they have to arrange every Fred Meyer store just differently enough to fuck up your sense of direction I have no idea. But anyway…

You know when you get to the front of the store to check out – you play that little game: assessing the checkers. Ask yourself quickly, “Which one of these checkers looks like a slow as molasses douche?” Then you avoid that line and pick someone who looks like they are scannin’ and baggin’ with a purpose. Yeah – thats the line you shoot for. I do this shopping exercise and load my stuff onto the checkout stand just behind another lady.

Now, if you start to get hosed and the shit is taking too long in front of you, you have a few options.

1. Bail and grab your stuff and go to another isle. This makes you look sort of like a tool though.
2. Act like you don’t mind and read about the Bat Boy, the headline about how to have tantric orgasms, or what stupid star has had the latest ass-makeover on the magazine covers.
3. Throw some other shit you know you don’t need like Tic-Tacs in your pile of shit on the table to pass the time.

If you get stuck though you are done. You are stuck. Grocery Checkout Hell. You can take precautions initially to get into the fast lane with the good checker, but its a Vegas style crap shoot most of the time. 

What you cannot foresee is the old lady who is in front of you, who has the 20 pound bags of birdseed under the cart that magically won’t scan. You cannot foresee the guy you thought would be scanning with a purpose completely goes into “blue screen of death” mode when he tries to scan the birdseed. You cannot foresee him frantically looking for a manager and then that manager staring aimlessly at the scan gun trying to scan the shit-ass birdseed 10 times. Duh dude it WONT scan! Just STOP. You cannot foresee the two of them debate how to handle figuring out how to manually enter a price to sell the birdseed. 

By now the options have dissolved. I am pegged between the birdseed lady and another person who has already unloaded their groceries behind me. I have too many items to bail. Trapped with nowhere to go. The ice cream is already most likely getting that bit of melt to it that will then refreeze. Many things to vocalize go through the ‘lobe at this point:

“Just give her the goddamn fucking birdseed!”
“Holy shit lady my eggs are getting warm!”
“Are you retarded?!?!”
“I will give you 20 dollars if you will leave immediately.”
“What fucking pole is Rod Serling hiding behind?”
“Am I being Punked?”

Of course, you cannot just shout out stuff. Society won’t put up with it. It does not mean you don’t think it though, so be honest. Varying amount of groans and sighs can be heard further back in the line. Tensions running high. All that can be done is defer to option 2 above. Cosmo comes into focus on the stand before me:

“Better Sex”
“Tantric Sex”
“Get Ahead Faster” (probably an article about Getting Head)
“Sex Positions”
“Sex Tips From Guys”
“Makep Sex”
“Bedroom Sex”
“Sexy Sex”
“Sex After Sex”
“Sex Advice”


Eventually the birdseed fiasco is worked out. They give it to her for the price of 2 10 pound bags that they enter after having some dude lug up two 10 pound bags to scan. (He didn’t just bring up one 10 pound bag to scan twice… he carries up two 10 pound bags to scan each. Dumb) The lady then pulls out the big ass coupon file folder surprise too at the very end… fishing through them looking for the right ones. Where the hell was that all this other time you were standing there?Gotta save that nickel. Yikes. By now I am ready to offer her 20 bucks for all her coupons if it means she can instantly vanish. Finally I am able to check out and get the hell out. By now I feel like David Blaine getting out of that big glass of water while wrapped in a straight jacket.

Get all the way home and unload the groceries. Oh fuck – I just realized I forgot to get the aluminum foil. SHIT ass sucker damn bitch!!!!!

Worst Album Covers Ever – Edition 1

One form of art that is always fun to look at is the artwork that accompanies music. I really don’t buy physical albums or CD’s really anymore in this day of the iPod, but still the cover art is fun to look at, if not many times perplexing and sometimes disturbing. Years ago I read a post about the worst album covers. I am inspired to create my own lists. Since there are so many horrible album covers out there, I have compiled the first five for my first edition of:
Worst Album Covers


“Stuffparty 1”
Coming in at number 5 for this first edition is Larz-Kristers and this great piece of work. Larz is a Sweedish band that must be pretty decent, as it appears they won the 2008 edition of “Dansbandskampen”, which any band would wet themselves to win I am sure. I have never been to Sweeden, and I know they have some cool wooden shoes there, but I draw the line at wooden hair. That’s just not cool. The guy in the middle though seems to still have his real hair, but I am sure the other members are working on his wooden hair back at the wood shop at the time this album picture was taken. Not sure myself what a “Stuff Party” is, but it sounds dubious if these guys will be there and I would not be attending.
Up at the Crack

“Hey, is that a guitar in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Ha ha! That was too easy. Still, there must be more to this…they must be trying to say something with this cover. I guess it would depend on what they mean with the word “Boned” and if it is an adjective, noun, verb, or adverb. So, I consulted “boned” in the dictionary. You can read the definitions here but I could not find any there that fit the bill for this cover. The ever trusty Urban Dictionary, however proved to be more fitting this particular cover. Maybe “boned” refers to the state of mind of the people who thought of this cover. If so then definition number 17 of “Boned” fits the bill:


– Like when your mom finds a J and a lighter next to your bed.
Guy in picture: Shit dude, my mom found my stash! 
Photographer: Oh motherfucker your BONED! (clicks picture)


Herbie Mann
“Push Push”
“This one time, at band camp… I put a flute in my…” Heh heh…yeah. Well, with Michelle at least it was sort of easy to imagine and not all hairy and nasty. This cover though just ruins the entire flute thing, so sorry, guys. I am quite sure that this is what the flute members of an orchestra look like after crawling back from the soup of the apocalypse. Like if that new movie “Book of Eli” had dudes with a flute instaid of a kick ass samurai sword, this is what you would wind up with.
# 2
Liebe Mutter…
So I see this cover and I immediately need to translate it stat. Via the interweb, I discover that “Liebe Mutter… ein blumenstraub der nie verwelkt” means something like “Dear Mother… a bouquet that never withers.”  Give mom plastic roses? Ok.  I initially though it meant, “Hello, I come to give flowers and eat your babies.” Thank God for babelfish. I also found out looking this up that the singer is actually a man. Oops, my bad. Overall though presenting a bouquet of flowers to your mom when you look like Norman Bates right before he slashes someone in the shower is just too freaky and worthy of this number two spot.
The Handsome Beasts
Oh, boy. I am not even sure where to start. Squatting naked atop a mountain of swine excrement and sharp straw? First, I imagine that Jesus would not approve of this cover. Second, would you EVER see this in a store or would you want to? It is just working on so many levels of “wrong” that one has to wonder how this sort of thing can even make it off the manufacturing floor. Released in 1981, it is sure fire proof that the 1980’s were a real MESS. I assume many youth of that day would not buy this lest their mom see it sitting in the shopping cart. “Beastiality?! …Jimmy!!” Really, someone unfamiliar with this band would have to imagine the types of audio tracks that would be on this album, and that is just not good.  Who knows what these people were on or what they were thinking and we can only imagine what the back of the cover looks like. I find the sign particularly interesting. “Please Do Not Feed Animals.” Not “The animals?” Hmm.  I DO hope you weren’t thinking of eating. This cover made me forget all about it.