Jews are funny. Clowns are funny. Put them together?

Not so funny.

Conversation with my daughter

DAUGHTER: "You kmow...Grandpa is the best man in the world."

ME: :::eyebrow raised:::

DAUGHTER: "After you."

ME: "Nice save."

Massage my penis and I enjoy it for a day. Teach me how to massage my penis and I enjoy it for a lifetime!

So I have a new crazy guy that comes in the shop.

Today he started spouting off on how TV is ruining people and society.

Then he said some weird bible verses.

Then he asked if he could massage my penis.

Here is the rest of the conversation:

ME: "YOU CAN'T SAY STUFF LIKE THAT TO ME!!"

MASSAGE PENIS GUY: "I said nothing for you to show such outrage."

ME: "Yes you did! You can't talk like that in my store!"

MASSAGE PENIS GUY: "I said it the proper way."

----

The Life of Brian

So I had a long time customer named Brian (I didn't actually 'have' him...he just shopped here)

Anyhow...

So about 3 years ago he moved away.

He was in the area yesterday and he stopped by.

Here is the conversation:

BRIAN: "WOW! You haven't changed at all!"

----

So to sum up:

He was gone for around 3 years....did he think I'd have a beard down to my knees? I'd be fat and bald? Sixteen grandchildren?

(He was a bit fatter than I remembered)

I have a thing for parachutes.

This might be my all time favorite blog post..

So I'm at a party last night and I notice Bill has a new iPhone.

We go over apps. He starts showing me his pix.

Lots of pictures from where he works.

Some animal thing. Not really sure exactly.

Anyhow...we come to this picture. A real picture. Not photoshopped.

It's a dog head. Bill has a reason to have a picture of a dog head on a table.

I don't.


Bill also mentioned that he has a picture of his arm up a horse vagina.

(I'll post that when I get it)

He also mentioned that sometimes he'll be on a business trip and a shipment of frozen dog heads will come in.

They thaw them out in the hotel bathtub.

I read this on Facebook so it must be true.

Women only like to be called one thing that begins with the letter B.

Them bitches LOVE being called beautiful!

I'm going to leave today's post untitled otherwise I'd have to put the word Asshole in it.

So a guy calls me the other day and asks if he can bring in some stuff to sell me.

I say sure. He brings it in.

Transaction complete.

Here is the conversation that followed.

HIM: "Well, it was good seeing you're still here."

ME: "Thanks...almost 29 years here."

HIM: "I haven't been in this store since Dan Levine worked here."

ME: "A Dan Levine never worked here."

HIM: "It was probably before your time."

ME: "Nope...I'm the owner, I know everybody that has ever worked here."

HIM: "You probably can't remember them all. No big deal."

ME: "Trust me, Dan Levine never worked here. Maybe you're thinking of another shop?"

HIM: "Nope, I used to come in all the time when Dan worked here."

ME: "Cool. Thanks for coming in. Tell Dan I said Hi."

----

So to sum up:
Dan Levine never worked here. I've never met a Dan Levine.

Obviously.

WIFEY: "You're not obviously gay."

ME: "I know."

Stinkin' to high Heaven

So I pull into my driveway the other night and open the garage door.

Sitting on the stairs that go to my house is a skunk!

I'm in the driveway. I flick my high beams at him. (Or was it a her?)

LePew just stares at me.

Years ago we had a skunk in the garage and it took hours for him (her?) to leave.

So I phoned Wifey.

ME: "Did you leave something on the stairs? It looks like a skunk."

WIFEY: "No. I'll go check."

--

So I'm in the safety of my car.

Headlights shining on Skunky.

Wifey slowly opens the door and SCREAMS!!

And then she does the stupid!

SHE KICKS THE SKUNK IN THE ASS!!

And then goes back in the house.

She gets back on phone and says the skunk is dead.

I'm still not going in the garage.

So I get out of my car and run into the house through the front door.

Wifey starts laughing at me.

The skunk is a fake skunk.

Well, actually the skunk was a real skunk.

He was just dead and stuffed.

And on my stairs in my garage.

SO TO SUM UP:
Wifey has a dead stuffed real skunk and she's not afraid to use it.

The "Sturbridge Village" Insurance Agency.

INSURANCE AGENT: "So, if you'll just fax me back that paperwork I'll get right on it."

ME: "Fax? Do you mind if I finish churning the butter first?"

INSURANCE AGENT: "I don't know what you mean."

ME: "Do people still churn butter?"

INSURANCE AGENT: "You're confusing me."

ME: "Do people still really fax?"

INSURANCE AGENT: "Not often."

ME: "Thank you."

Jesus in a blanket

Someone just pointed out to me that if you say 'JESUS' backwards it sounds like 'sausage'.

If only Jesus tasted like sausage...

Young King Cole

Life.

Right.

Baby Talk.

Mosquito.

---

Say "Mommy!" one more time

and I will kill you.

Rocky

So we were watching Rocky last night (Not babysitting for a kid named Rocky, watching a movie named Rocky)

Anyhow...


So it's near the end of the movie. Rocky and Apollo Creed are boxers and are duking it out in a championship match.

A vicious battle.

Back and forth.

Face punches.

Body shots.

Blood. Sweat. Tears.

Round 4. Round 8.

Beating the crap out of each other.

12th round. 14th.

The end of the fight.

Rocky has fullfilled his dream...he's gone toe to toe with the champ for 15 brutal rounds.

He looks for his girl in the crowd.

She is making her way thru the stands.

She gets to the ring.

She climbs inside the boxing ring.

She embraces a bloodied Rocky!!

The music swells! The credits rolls.

One of the greatest movies of all time ends.

My heart is pounding.

WOW!

And then my Wife speaks:

WIFEY: "Stupid."

I'm not sure why.

So the computer companies call them 'notebooks'.

We don't. We call them laptops.

But the computer companies won't budge.

I'm not sure why.



And the phone companies call them 'mobile phones'.

We don't. We call them cellphones.

Or the cool people call them iPhones.

Nobody has ever called them mobile phones.

Except for the companies.

I'm not sure why.

And then there is Cousin Saul.

Cousin Saul likes to call it 'Kleenex brand facial tissues'

We don't. We call them Kleenex.

Nobody else calls them Kleenex brand facial tissues.

Except for Cousin Saul.

I'm not sure why.

Bing!

So I bought a new computer last night.

As I was setting it up it asked if I wanted to set BING as my default search engine.

So I googled BING.

I decided not to make BING my default search engine.

As the rest of Planet Earth has also done.

I'm not making this up about the Spanish accent lady.

SPANISH ACCENT LADY: "Do you know where there is a Chinese store around here?"

ME: "Nope."

SPANISH ACCENT LADY: "The store that sells the Chinese hair?"

ME: "Nope."

SPANISH TALKING LADY: "Are you new on the street?"

ME: "Yes."

Rubber rats (and liquor)

So a Chinese guy just came in the shop.

It's not important to the story that he was Chinese.

Here is the conversation:

CHINESE GUY: "Do you have any plastic snakes or rubber rats?"

ME: "I don't have any plastic snakes but I do have this one rubber rat."

:::shows him rubber rat:::

CHINESE GUY: "No, that won't do. It's too big."

----

The rubber rat was the size of a real rat.

Observation (lie) from the 84 year old women.

This old lady comes in my shop.

Here is the conversation.


LADY: "I've never seen so much stuff in my entire life!"

---

Records

CUSTOMER: "Do you buy records?"

ME: "Sure, what kind do you have?"

CUSTOMER: "Vintage ones."

What was it? It was a bar fight? It was a bar fight. Tonight was a bar fight. It was a bar fight.

The Small Piano (or should I call this: The guy that talked like Latka)

So a guy just ran into my shop and asked me a question.

He sounded like Latka.

He was a bit out of breath.

Here is the conversation:

LATKA: "Do you have any small pianos ::pantpantpant::?"

ME: ""Nope, all sold out."

LATKA: "Thank you very much."

ME: "Thank you."

The Letter G

Today I was determined to write the whole blog with nothing but words that begin with the letter G.

Then I decided it would be funnier not to use any words that begin with the letter G.

Thank you.

The one on the left forgot to wear her 'I eat way too much butter' sign.

Especially cute.

So I was reading this article about some super cute polar bear cub.

In the article it tried to explain what makes something especially cute.

Here is part of the article:


////Interestingly, research has uncovered the facial features that make something especially cute: big eyes. Big cheeks. Big forehead.////


------

-------

-------

-------

Here is Clint Howard.

Especially cute.

Lions in the fire

So a customer calls the other day and asks if I have something.

Here is the conversation:

ME: "You should stop down and look thru my inventory. I have a bunch of what you're looking for."

CUSTOMER: "I can't this week, I have way too many lions in the fire right now."

ME: "You mean irons in the fire?"

CUSTOMER: "Nope, too many lions in the fire."

ME: "Okay. Thank you."

I love me some fresh Homo

I'm also a fan of fresh grap leaves.

(This was a few doors down from Buddy Nite restaurant)

Cookies

So a guy was just in here and he saw me eating a cookie.

Here is the conversation that followed:

ME: "Would you like a cookie?"

HIM: "What kind of cookie?"

ME: "Sugar cookie."

HIM: "I don't like sugar cookies."

ME: "Then Buddy, you don't like cookies."

---

So to sum up:

I should have called him Chief.

Steve Jobs

So last night Wifey and I watched a PBS special on Steve Jobs (We didn't actually watch it ON Steve Jobs, it was about Steve Jobs)

Anyhow...

So we watch the documentary and the split second it was over we had this conversation:

ME: "So what did you think?"

WIFEY: "About what?"

Getting ready for New Years Eve

WIFEY: "Wear that new shirt I got you."

ME: "I don't think so."

WIFEY: "Why not?"

ME: "It's too Elvis-ie."

WIFEY: "It's not too Elvis-ie."

ME: "The collar is all Elvis-ie."

WIFEY: "It's not all Elvis-ie."

---

So I wear the shirt.

In hindsight it wasn't Elvis-ie at all.

Sometimes a shirt is just a shirt.

Happy New Year.

So I get to work a few minutes ago (I work New Years day)

I pull into my parking space out back.

"Out Back" is a small parking lot and my dumpster.

Next to my dumpster was a pile of peanut shells on the ground.

It hit me that there was some guy out there at midnight last night eating peanuts next to my dumpster and ringing in the New Year.

Happy New Year, Peanut Lovin' Hobo!

Wifey 2:30 Driveway Trash Elbow Slippers Ralph Fiennes

Recently Wifey told me that before I say or do anything that I should check with her first.

Seems I don't have a good internal edit function.

Or something.

Keep that in mind.

And now the story begins.

Last night around 2:30am I hear this CRASH! SMASH! BOTTLES A BREAKIN'! coming from across the street. I then hear tires squealing and a car pulling away.

I look out the window and see trash all strewn about on my neighbors driveway.

My 2:30 in the morning brain told me it was a college prank done to the neighbors college aged son.

Should I go out at 2:30am and clean up the mess? There was quite a bit of trash (the after Christmas trash is always a lot)

Should I call the neighbor and let him know?

I decided not to do either. Cleaning up the trash at 2:30am would probably wake up lots of people. I went back to bed. Back to sleep.

I get up around 7:30. Go downstairs.

I ask Wifey if she saw the mess across the street. She did.

I tell her about the noise of the car speeding away.

It's 7:30 in the morning and now I feel guilty about not cleaning up the trash.

I tell Wifey to text the neighbors. She does.

She also offers her help in cleaning up the mess.

They decline.

I then tell Wifey that I'm going to go over and clean it up.

She tells me not to. People don't want other people looking through their trash.

I agree.

I then see Dave the Neighbor in his driveway starting to clean up.

Did I mention that I usually goof on Dave the Neighbor? Did I mention the practical jokes we've done on each other?

It's killing me. His driveway is filled with trash and I have to stay inside.

The jokes flying thru my brain are hurting me.

I have to go out. Not to help.

I say to Wifey "I'm going to help!"

She again says no.

I run upstairs and put on my pants.

I'm going over. Not to help.

I open my front door and yell across the street "YOU SLOB! CLEAN UP THAT MESS!!"

(Clever, huh?)

Dave the Neighbor can't really hear what I'm saying.

I put on some slippers, I decide I'm gonna fly down the three steps at my front door, down my brick walkway, and across the lawn to goof on him!

I take the three steps with ease.

I hit the brick walkway.

The ice-covered brick walkway.

Aptly named slippers get no traction. I fly in the air. I crash down like Dave the Neighbors trash.

My head smashes on a decorative metal milk urn we keep at bottom of front stairs (Is the milk urn really all that decorative?), my elbow gets smashed on the brick.

I lay there.

Dave the Neighbor comes running over. Genuine concern.

"Don't move!"

I'm going to spend the rest of my life in a coma. Maybe a wheelchair.

Or maybe I just have a small cut on my elbow.

I get up. My head hurts. My elbow kills.

Blood on my t-shirt showing my manliness.

Wifey comes out.

I'm okay.

Dave the Neighbor thinks it was his newspaper delivery guy that crashed into his trash.

Dave the Neighbor goes back to his filthy driveway.

Wifey isn't yet aware that she has an "I told you so" hanging over my head.

My elbow still kills. It will probably prevent me from pitching for the Red Sox this year.

We go in the house.

Wifey has genuine concern for the whack I took on my head.

"Ralph Fiennes wife died a day or two after hitting her head. You should get that checked."

I'm a man. I don't need my head examined.

(I gave you all that line, do what you must with it)

Xmas Snippets 2011

Odd Gift for a Manly Man like me:

A paisely ironing board cover. Lots of purple in it. I love it!

I also got a lint brush. It wasn't purple.

-----

So I'm opening up a gift and it was a shirt. A rather flamboyant shirt. Lots of purple in it. Here is the conversation:

ME: "Are you sure this wasn't for Hoagy?"

-----

The following story isn't for the kids.

The other night me and The Hoag are out for Buddy Nite dinner, Christmas style.

Next to us was three drunken women and one REALLY drunken woman.

The REALLY drunken woman turned to us and said:

DRUNK SKANK: "Wow, you two are handsome! I just shaved my pussy!"

ME: "Thank you."

DRUNK SKANK: :::gesturing towards HOAGY::: "And you look like John Mayer!"

HOAGY: "Who is John Mayer?"

---------

MADDOG: "Did Wifey like the jam I gave her?"

-------

ME: "Don't even think about telling me what you want for Christmas next year...I've already got it picked out."

DAUGHTER: "It will be out-dated by then."

(It won't be)

---------

DAUGHTER: "If I need to get up at 4:00am I set my alarm for 1:00am so I know I can still sleep for three hours."

ME: "Tard."

-----

CHRISTMAS OBSERVATION:

In the movie 'It's a Wonderful Life', when they all start singing in the Bailey's house, why the hell does Bert the Cop have an accordian with him???

-----

We'll be back on Dec. 26th with CHRISTMAS SNIPPETS!

Annoying Voice Guy

ANNOYING VOICE GUY: "So when did Jackie Kennedy die?"

ME: "She died in 1994."

ANNOYING VOICE GUY: "How old was she?"

ME: "I think she was around 65."

ANNOYING VOICE GUY: "So she never made 80, huh?"

ME: "I don't think so."

ANNOYING VOICE GUY: "Wow, she never made 80."

ME: "Nope."

ANNOYING VOICE GUY: "How old was she when she died?"

The Flashdance Guy

We nicknamed him that decades ago.

It has nothing to with today's story.

I don't really like Flashdance Guy. I never have.

Flashdance Guy comes in today.

Here is the conversation:

FLASHDANCE GUY: "Hi...how are you doing!!"

ME: "I'm doing great!!"


:::silence:::

:::more silence:::

FLASHDANCE GUY: "How come you never ask me how I am?"

ME: "I don't care how you are."

:::smile:::

Last Boy On Earth Saves Christmas!

How can that be?

There is a last boy?

He saved Christmas?

Yes and yes.

And here is how:

GAL: "Can you order this book for me?

ME: "Sure, but it might not make it in time for Christmas. Should I still order it?"

GAL: "Yes. Let me know when it comes in."

ME: "Righty-O!"

(I didn't actually say Righty-O. In fact, I never have.)



Anyhow...

The book arrives today, I email her, she comes down and pays for it.

Here is the conversation that followed:

GAL: "Thank you SO much! You just saved Christmas!!"

ME: "Actually Kamandi saved Christmas."

GAL: "Thank you, Kamandi!"
(She didn't actually say 'Thank you, Kamandi')

Eclipse!

So the other day there was an eclipse of some sorts.

And whenever there is an eclipse the news agencies and 'scientists' tell us how to view it, when it will appear, how it will burn your eyeballs out, etc.

And in EVERY eclipse story it always mentions that we won't see another eclipse like this for another 68 years.

And then about a month or two later there is another story about an eclipse.

And how to view it. When it will appear. How your eyeballs will be burned out. Etc.

And then they tell us an eclipse won't happen again for another 68 years.

Stop fucking with us!!

We know an eclipse happens every few weeks.

We also know it doesn't burn our eyeballs.

She could also stand to lose twenty pounds.

So me and Wifey go out to dinner last night.

We decided to eat at the bar of the restaurant.

Waitress brought over bread.

Wifey asked for butter.

Waitress thought that meant don't bring butter.

Wifey ordered a salad and her meal.

Waitress thought that meant Wifey just wanted her meal.

Over the course of the night Wifey had three glasses of wine.

The waitress thought it best just to charge us for two of the glasses.

I had three bottles of beer.

The waitress thought it best just to charge me for one bottle of beer.

Remember that salad Wifey ordered and didn't get?

The waitress thought it made sense to charge us for that.

---

What's the difference between jam and jelly?

So last night was Buddy Nite.

Me and Hoag at the usual place.

Me dressed normal.

Hoag dressed normal for Hoag.

The manager of the restaurant comes up to our table and talks with us.

She usually does.

Here is part of the conversation:

MISS MANAGER (pointing at Hoag's shirt): "So Hoag, does that company make women's shirts?"

:::before Hoag can answer:::

ME: "Yes, he has one on."

----

Point of the story?

Sometimes it's just too easy.

#276 in the series: Why India is stupid.

////the eastern Indian city of Kolkata, formerly known as Calcutta.///

Or something.

The Solitaire Guy

HIM: "I really like these cards."

ME: "You should buy them."

HIM: "Nah, I don't like playing solitaire by myself."

Shouldn't that be Zincy?

So I'm reading an article about 'penny hoarders'.

It mentiones that they want pre-1982 pennies because they are 95% copper and worth a lot more than a penny.

So the guy in the article had this to say:

"The copper has such a different sound than zinc pennies do," Henry said. "Real money has that definite sound of money and if you listen to a modern zinc penny, they don't sound the same, they sound sort of tinny."

RIP Peter Pan

Reverse IANO written by The Beatles

PAUL: "Hey, Jude!"

JOHN: "Get Back!"

RINGO: "HELP!!"

GEORGE: "Or SOMETHING."

True Story Theatre

So this midget (dwarf? wee folk?) gal came in the store today.

She had on a plunging neckline showing off her substantial rack.

(The substantial rack has nothing to do with the story)

Here is the conversation.

ME: "Hi, how are you?"

WEE-DAME: "I'm fine, you?"

ME: "Great."

She then looked around the shop for a while.

ME: "Is there anything I can help you find?"

WEE-DAME: "I'm looking for something for my little brother."

---

Poppa

KID IN STORE: "Poppa! Poppa!

SAME KID: "POPPA! POPPA!! POPPA!!"

HIM AGAIN: "POPPA! POPPA!!"

HIS BROTHER: "POPPA!! POPPA!! POPPPA!!!"

ORIGINAL KID: "LOOK, POPPA!!! POPPA, LOOK!!!"

THE BROTHER: "POPPA!!

ORIGINAL KID: "Poppa! Poppa! POPPA!!!"

BROTHER: "Poppa can I? Can I Poppa? Huh? POPPA!!!???"

ORIGINAL KID: "Please Poppa, please?? POPPA!!!??"

ORIGINAL KID: "PLEASE, POPPA? POPPA? POPPA!!!!"

Location, Location, Location.

::PHONE RINGS::

ME: "The Store, may I help you?"

POTENTIAL CUSTOMER: "Where are you located?"

ME: "I'm behind the counter."

POTENTIAL CUSTOMER: "No..I mean where are you?"

ME: "I'm at my store."

POTENTIAL CUSTOMER: "Where is that?"

ME: "blahblahblahADDRESSblahblahblah"

POTENTIAL CUSTOMER: "We can't find it."

Butter Bacon Bread Blanket Bingo!

I was left alone last night.

I had to man up and take care of myself.

I had butter.

I had bacon.

I had bread.

I fell asleep shortly afterwards in a buttery coma.

----

So what's the point with the picture I used?

Well, I was googling for a picture to use and I entered ' butter sleep' and up came this picture.

It had nothing to do with butter or sleep.

But I liked it anyhow.

In the future when I think of butter sleep I will think of her.

And so will you.

Always treat your customers right.

CUSTOMER: "You remember everything."

ME: "Some things, not everything."

CUSTOMER: "Why do you have such a better memory than me?

ME: "My brain is much bigger than yours."

How To Get A Large Tip (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb)

So last night I went to get a haircut.

Here is the conversation after I was seated:

HOT FEMALE HAIR TECHNICIAN: "How would you like your hair done?"

ME: "Just make me look perfect."

HOT FEMALE HAIR TECHNICIAN: "You looked perfect when you walked in!"

------

I was played!!!

We ain't talking about Diane Lane.

So me and Wifey are driving last night (actually it was me doing the driving. Wifey was sitting in the passenger seat)

Here is the conversation:

WIFEY: "You're always in the wrong lane!"

ME: "Always? Always??"

WIFEY: "Yes, always."

ME: "Am I in the wrong lane right now?"

WIFEY: "There is only one lane."

ME: "So what you're saying is I'm NOT in the wrong lane, is that correct?"

WIFEY: "You're the most annoying person ever."

ME: "You are."

WIFEY: "Ask anybody."

ME: "Anybody? ANYBODY??"

WIFEY: "You're so annoying."

ME: "You are."

WIFEY: "You're in the wrong lane."

NEW FEATURE (sure to be a hit for months to come) Michael The Mental Case

MICHAEL THE MENTAL CASE: "What are your hours next week?"

ME: "We will be open our regular hours all week other than Thanksgiving Day...we will be closed on Thanksgiving."

MICHAEL THE MENTAL CASE: "What day of the week is that?"

ME: "I think it's on a Monday this year."

MICHAEL THE MENTAL CASE: "Do you have any Thanos comics?"

How Many Penn State Coaches Does It Take To Screw In A Lightbulb

Vidi minus I (clever, huh?)

GUY: "Do you know someone that sharpens saws?"

ME: "Sharpens saws?"

GUY: "Yes, do you know someone that sharpens saws?"

ME: "No."

GUY: "You're telling me you don't anybody that sharpens saws??"

ME: "Why on earth would I know someone that sharpens saws?"

GUY: "You're a liar!!"

ME: "What the fuck are you talking about??? If I knew someone that sharpens saws I'd certainly wouldn't lie to you about it."

GUY: "So who sharpens saws?"

ME: "What are you talking about!!??"

GUY: "Someone in Norwood, perhaps?"

ME: "Oh, you mean Bobby."

GUY: "Yes. I knew you knew him."

ME: "Sorry. I forgot he sharpened saws. I thought you were nuts."

GUY: "Not a lot of saw sharpeners anymore."

The Penn State Sex Scandal

First of all what the hell is a 'Nittany'?

And what does a Nittany have to do with lions?

And why are ten year old boys going to Penn State?

Are they genius level savants?

Are they just huge ten year olds that play football??

How does one coax a huge ten year old genius football player into the shower room to have 'soap battles'?

Why do some men want to prey upon young boys when there are tons of hot chicks on campus. Of age!

Have you ever wondered what Andy Rooney would think about the Penn State Sex Scandal?

Or what would Heavy D think?

Maybe Joe Frazier coined the word 'Nittany'.

Maybe Joe Frazier liked lions.

--------

And don't you love the idea that Penn State students went on a rioting rampage after hearing that Paterno got fired and wouldn't coach the game this week?

You know, Joe Paterno,the guy that knew his assistant was raping ten year old boys in the shower room and didn't go to the police.

I love that college students are so bright that they cheer this piece of crap.

He's still in your head, Joe.

Imagine if you could jump?

7:18 pm POWER OUTAGE!

WIFEY: "CRAP! What are we going to do now?"

ME: "I don't know. We could talk."

WIFEY: "About what?"

ME: "I don't know."

WIFEY: ::::silence:::

ME: :::silence:::

Frannie=Keith Richards looking dude. Quasi-homeless.

FRANNIE: "I'd didn't expect you to be open so early."

ME: "So why did you come here so early?"

FRANNIE: "I was hoping you'd be open."

ME: "What if I wasn't?"

FRANNIE: "I'd probably be standing outside."

ME: "Probably?"

The Bloody Tongue

So last night I feel something in my mouth.

I spit in the sink.

Blood.

I spit again.

Blood.

Blood.

Blood.

I show Wifey my tongue.

Not a lot of concern there.

I look in the mirror. I'm Gene Simmons. Blood all over my tongue.

I brush my teeth.

I assume it's nothing.

(Bloody tongue is never nothing)

(Bloody tongue is cancer)

(You know it, I know it)

I go to bed.

I'm thinking about my bloody tongue.

Midnight. Bloody Tongue.

1:30 am.

Bloody.

Tongue.

My mind is racing.

WebMD on the iphone. Google 'Bloody Tongue'.

Could be bacteria. Could be cancer.

I know it's cancer. It has to be.

2:47 am. Tossing turning. Cancer treatments dance thru my head.

Can I live without a tongue?

orb bill ib tawg lige dis?

It's freaking me out.

I get up again. I rinse my mouth. I spit.

It's now 4:38am.

No blood.

NO BLOOD!!

My cancer is gone!!

The blood turned out to be a Brachs Cinnamon Hard Candy I forgot I had around 10:00 last night.

How brushing my teeth didn't get rid of it the first time I have no idea.

Did I forget to brush my tongue?

I usually brush my tongue. With a toothbrush, not a hairbrush

I'll tell you about the hairy tongue another time....

Maybe the best 6 1/2 minutes on the internet.

Susan Sarandon Calls The Pope a Nazi

The Pope Responds:

"Hence today I believe that I am acting in accordance with the will of the Almighty Creator: by defending myself against the Jew, I am fighting for the work of the Lord."

"Or something."

Occupy Poland

A black guy walks into a bar (and other observations)

Chinese guy tripped on curb.

Latino woman had the wind blow up her skirt (not pleasant)

Latino guy and his son got matching haircuts.

Soviet guy bought a Three Stooges Monopoly game for his son.

African American woman loved Gumby and Pokey.

Small Pakistani man walks funny.

Black guy wearing a Celtics t-shirt

White guy wearing a Green Bay Packers shirt.

Nazi on a loud motorcycle.

Not a good color, LaQuisha.

Indian men talking in loud annoying voices (but in a strange happy manner)

Mexican with his stereo up way too loud.

Pakistani trucker loves him some horn.

All races ignoring car alarm.

Ladies from Central America love their jeans one size too small.

The Dracula Kid

So this kid was in with his Dad a few weeks ago.

He seemed fascinated by Dracula stuff that I have in the shop.

KID: "Daddy! It's Ejacula! Ejacula figure! Daddy...I want Ejacula!! I love Ejacula!"

Jazz isn't music

So I was reading a book the other day and on the back it mentioned other books coming out soon.

One was titled: Jazz Isn't Music

I have no idea what the book is about. Though I'm guessing it's probably about Jazz.

We all want to pretend that we like Jazz.

"Oh, look at me! I like Jazz!"

You don't like Jazz.

You lying to yourself.

Jazz is "cool" so you have to like it.

"Look at me! I'm a hipster! Me and Miles Davis!"

Jazz blows.

Get over it.

Nothing worse than a long instrumental by some New Orleans hack.

Sing you idiot!

"Oh, but Jazz conveys a steaming hot night. A mood. A romance."

Jazz blows.

How many Jazz songs on your i-Pod?

How many Jazz records or CDs do you own?

Last Jazz concert you went to?

Who is #1 on the Jazz charts?

Case closed.

Jazz blows.

So stop pretending. Stop wearing your pork pie hat. Your fancy clothes.

Your Raybans.

Jazz blows.

(Tomorrow we will discuss why The Blues are awesome.)

And the award goes to....LOIS!

You know Lois.

She used to hang out here with us.

Every week she comes into my shop to buy her goodies.

Usually she brings her kids (maniacs)

Her kids (maniacs) are a blast. They amuse me.

And they are very fun to tease.

Lois teases them into submission every week.

The oldest boy is maybe 8 years old. Quiet. Polite. Charming. Smart.

The youngest is nuts. Charming quiet polite and smart. Did I mention nuts?

So anyhow, why does Lois win Mom of The Year once again?

Yesterday she brought the kids in and the five year old was singing the classic AC/DC song Highway to Hell.

And not much more in life is cooler than a Five year old maniac singing Highway to Hell by AC/DC.

::wipes away teardrop::

It's always funnier when they drop the Gs

WIFEY: ::laughter::

ME: "What's so funny?"

WIFEY: "You were whistlin'"

ME: "I wasn't "whistlin'"."

WIFEY: "You were whistlin'!"

ME: "You're off your rocker."

WIFEY: "You were just layin' there whistlin'."

ME: "Why on earth would I be whistlin'?"

WIFEY: "You whistle."

ME: "You're nuts."

Does your cane really help you walk? And other observations and rants.

If you are confined to a wheelchair stop 'running' marathons. Okay?

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No legs? No skiing.

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No hands? No painting. If you hold the brush with your teeth your paintings are probably crap. Knock it off. Watch TV.


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Can't read? Don't ask for a price because you "forgot" your glasses for the 50th time. Okay? There is no shame in not being able to read. Oh, wait...yes there is.

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Don't like the way a certain dish is prepared at a restaurant? Order something else. Don't try to switch out the beef for lobster. It comes with carrots not peas. It has garlic in it. Loser.

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Don't ask for $20 in gas. Fill your tank up unless $20 worth will get you to your death.

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Don't dig in your purse for exact change. We will make change for you. You're holding things up!!! We hate you!

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Don't want those paper towels you were thinking of buying? Put them back where you got them from. They don't belong with the produce. I hate you!

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Honking your horn makes us all in a better mood. Thanks for your contribution. Not really. I hate you. I hate your horn. And your children. Don't get me started on your children.

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How much is that, you ask? Maybe THE PRICE STICKER WILL GIVE YOU A CLUE!!

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After you flush my toilet please look back into the bowl. Thank you.

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Do you flush the toilet at home? I didn't think so.

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It's an ounce of ink in a rare plastic cartridge. Yeah, that's worth $18.

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McRib is Back. We don't want onions or pickles on it. You got that, Ronald McDonald?

Nobody likes your ringtone. Especially at the volume you have it set at.

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The Circle of Life.

Every day we are all reminded of death.

This past week has been tough.

First off is a man who changed the world. Steve Jobs. Dead in his 50s.

Too soon.

Then a few days later a man named Al Davis. A pioneer in football. He owned the Oakland Raiders and helped shape the NFL into the powerhouse it is today.

Maybe not too soon, but still sad.

And then today I open up my news.

There it was.

Dead in a hotel room.

40 years old.

A guy who played bass for Weezer from 1998-2001.

I'll never forget that guy who plaed bass for Weezer from 1998-2001.

Too sad. Too soon. Too bassy.

New feature: Manly Man or Not So Manly Man

GUY: "Could you put aside that Baywatch Barbie KEN doll for me?"

ME: "Why am I not surprised by this request?"

GUY: "The one with the jet ski."

ME: "Okay."

RIP HITLER JOBS

Elvis died also.

Our Newest Feature: Steve Jobs Jokes

Q: How can we view Steve's body in the coffin?

A: Slide to unlock.

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"I applied at Apple but they said they have no Jobs left."

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I blame Obama for the lack of Jobs.

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I was going to tell 5 Steve Jobs jokes but I decided on only 4s instead.

Could it be for...ATTEMPTED MURDER???

Attempted murder.

It never gets old. Except for when it does.

Attempted Murder

(I might have stolen this joke)

Quasi-Straight Shirt