They are. And they do.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

The Jigglybits Illustrated, vol.2

The Legend of Aram's Curlies.

I like that there’s a synonym for heroin that is also a synonym for penis. Now all I need to do is find a macho addict and proceed to snicker uncontrollably.

“I’m going to go take a load of junk.”
“K. Just curious. Where do you get your junk?”
“There’s this guy named Raul out on 20th and K. His junk will make your eyes roll back.”
“Ah. You do it in one of those clubs out there?”
“Yeah. Well, you can’t take it out in front of everyone. You have to take it in the back.”
“It’s 2009 and some people still aren’t ok with that kind of thing, you know?”
“I mean, you lived through the 70’s. I’m sure you’ve experimented a little.”
“I was born in ’82.”
“Well, you’ve at least thought about it.”
“Of course.”
“Doesn’t seem all that appealing, actually. I’ll pass.”
”You’re just not wired for that kind of thing?”
“I prefer vagina.”

Why is an 80 year old woman reading a magazine with a teenage bulimic and the words “Get sexy hair and glowing skin?”

To save me the trouble of thinking she just might be someone I’d enjoy conversing with.

Internet porn must be like a slap in the face to Stephen Hawking. It’s a good thing he can’t slap back.

Actually, though we’re all safe, I think he could fuck up the internet if he really put his mind to it.

He’s probably better off staying away from those sites. If he gets a virus, he also gets Tourette’s.

You laughed, too. See you in hell.

I kid, of course. There is no hell. Ask Stephen Hawking.

I actually really admire the guy. If there was ever a way for me to take a class from him, I’d jump at the chance (sorry again, Mr. Hawking). Especially if it’s mid-virus, when there’s a real chance of him yelling “Bitchfist!” during a lecture on black holes.

Recent internet ad: Eat one fruit to lose a size fast.

That fruit: methamphetamine. Between the Reagan administration and Prop 215, I’d say we can categorize meth as a fruit.

But just in case, let’s consult an authority on the matter.


Pac Man says, “WAKA WAKA WAKA,” which means “Yes. Oh god, yes.”

If I ever have kids,

First of all, holy crap. Those poor kids.

I’d give them that toy where they spin the wheel and “The cow says ‘MOO,’” or whatever the shit it lands on, only I’d change the pictures, re-record the voice box, and use fictional characters.

“Pac Man says ‘WAKA WAKA WAKA.’”

“Raphael says ‘COWABUNGA.’”



Sorry. That was Obi Wan Kenobi.


In retrospect, I owe at least 50% of that joke to James Fluty.

And the other half goes to the man upstairs.

Do you think the Twilight phenomenon will result in Santa becoming sexy? He's already a creepy old immortal who likes to stalk little kids.

McGruff was dressed like a flasher.

Things that make me smile:
Knowing that every man in the world just said “duty.”




The clean-cut look never lasts long on me. I just googled Ringo Starr for style tips.

It is a small dream of mine to see Matisyahu all thugged out while still providing Jewish-friendly raps:

“Hey, oy.


Check it.

This one’s for all my bitches in the 805.

And Mashiach.

I got lox like Vivica Fox.
I drop shocks
In the Benz when we’re knockin socks
Like it’s business time.
I make ‘em moan in rhyme.”

He never was very good. But at least then, he’d have strong morals and bitches.

I picked up a challah and money fell out.

True story. Some may follow such a statement with rude comments, but I’m stuck thinking “Teach me your ways.”

Challah makes for good French toast, which is a cultural nexus just odd enough to not anger anyone.

I like French films. They have a quality and sophistication that you just don’t find in American cinema. My favorite would have to be (subtitled, of course) The Karate Kid. Here’s a sample:

Mr Miyaguet: “Repeat after me. Croissant! Croissoff!”

Danielle-San: “This is shit. I need a cigarette.”


If you can’t spell the name of the town you live in, you probably shouldn’t be using a credit card. I got one from “Antelop.”

I told her to fuc herself.

Someone told me they were “Doing time. Literally.” How does this work? Is it like that scene from American Pie? And where do I approach this as a writer? “Minuteman?” Handjob?” “Hot, cock on clock action?”

“Hey, what’s up?”
“Not much, just

That’s almost as good of a porn star name as Monty Python.

“What is your name?”
“What is your quest?”

Free porn movie idea: Monty Python and the Search for Holey Gail

“How do you know so much about swallows?”

It writes itself.

Christmas is…Oh! Oh, god!

Premature. By now, we’re already sick of the lights and the songs and the “I want, I want,” but at least the kids are behaving.

My generation has a warped sense of relationships. Our parents sat us down in front of Disney movies so we paid less attention to them fighting. We then tired of Disney just in time for us to become interested in porn.

At least it was an easy transition.


I should start recording the sounds of opening and removing refried beans from the can. If I had the free time, I would turn it into the grossest techno song ever.

Some rich fuck needs to hurry up and sponsor my ass.

Does Mexican food make your moustache grow? Because it’s working.

Neat freak (n): One who gives his girl a Clean Sanchez


If you’ve never made a burrito that was good enough to make you touch your nipples and say, “Oh, fuck yeah,” we need to have dinner at my place.

The blind woman ninja who said “Nice to see you” has no skills compared to the blind man ninja I just saw. He signed his name.

George Foreman be damned. Chris Webber has the real marketing opportunity.


Fuck the blind woman who said, “Nice to see you.” I met a real ninja: A deaf man in a heated debate on pronunciation.

I want to see him do battle with the man who signed his name.

Cripple Fight!

Funny name: Yi Ha.

I get a little excited every year around Thanksgiving, because for a split second, I think Black Friday is an upcoming, retro ‘70s Blacksploitation kung fu detective movie.


It was during lunch in 8th grade, out by the backstop and just barely not out of view, now that I think of it. In her movements was a sense of clumsy determination to swing her hips just so to achieve the much-desired end result. I remember it like it was yesterday. But I’m sure you’ll never forget the first time you saw an afro bounce. That shit changed my world.

My dad told me when I was a teenager, “Don’t be a fool, Bono Isatool.”


I met a man named James Kirk, and what do you know, he’s a bit of a slut.

I tried cream cheese on toast, which was not nearly as satisfying. I need that hole. That space in between that reminds me just how much I enjoy eating it.

Seriously. My friends and family should just not read this.

Someone ordered a cake with the writing “Happy Birthday China.”

I think they’re going to need more cake.

Sometimes people just don’t know what they’re putting on their license plates. I saw a Toyota truck with the plate “TRDMAMA.”

I just had a brown baby.

Funny name: Upinder

Our president won the Nobel Peace Prize for a promise, and then 8 weeks later, he deployed 30,000 troops to Afghanistan. You know what we call that?

A Barack-tease.

Why why why are the penile excursions of Tiger Woods on the 10:00 news?

Because Leno now opens for the news, and you know he can’t resist the opportunity for a bad, PG-13 “Tiger Woods” pun.




The local news station conducted a poll, and 81% of participants collectively handed the station its junk with “It’s a private matter.”

Funny Name:

She did what to who for how many cookies?

Despite popular belief, Kenny G is not from Compton.


Is it just me, or does


I don’t know about you, but I can’t count the times I’ve heard, “Woooo! Kenny G! Take off your shirt!”

Seriously, who do you think smokes more pot?

And who do you think does it to escape being such a douchebag?

And to think, I dated someone who found him attractive.

Whenever I watch Gossip Girl, I’m all like, “OMG! LOLZ! ROFL! OBGYN!”

I clearly plan on not getting laid ever again.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

The Jigglybits Illustrated, vol.1

Some of the following images were created by the amazing Aram Fresh. The rest of them belong to random people on the internet who will receive no credit.

“Might as well jiggle.”

-David Lee Roth in his later years. I mean, now.

W is really a double v. That shit’s deceptive. Even in penmanship they have questions that try to fuck you up.

The Land Before Time was an awesome movie. It has such a cult following, that it’s being referred to as TLBT.

TLBT totally sounds like a sexual preference, BTW.

So does BTW. And you will now think that every time you see it.

Pride, BTW.


Fuck Edward. Team Aramrod is in full effect.

And now, this week’s installment of Superhero or Venereal Disease:


Want to see my Prometheus?

Wheel of Fortune, Before and After: We’ll cut off your Lobster Johnson.

I don’t watch Wheel enough to know if that’s the right category, but I know that’s a situation with a definite before and after to it.

My favorite soap opera is Fight Club.

The DMV can be fun, if you bring a Battleship board.

Pictionary, Before and After:



Seriously. You’re better off just


I’ve been single for a good long time and I now hurt my wrist while playing the ukulele.

The word “innuendo” is.

“Would you use it in a sentence?”

“I’d love to.”

“Bitch, I’ll put it innuendo.”

That’s for anyone who’s wondering why I’m single.

Funny name: Mahnaz

The first time I saw this:


I thought for a second I was looking at robo-Nazis.

Too soon?

What post in the army did GI Joe hold? Judging by his name, I’d say proctologist.




Things I can do without:

  • The 100 most beautiful list
  • A pregnant Russian ordering a glass of “Koala”
  • Facebook offering to hook me up with Christian girls
  • People crying on The Biggest Loser
  • The Biggest Loser
  • Yogurt lids for breast cancer. I’m all for helping out a good cause, but I’m not going to wash and save ripped pieces of foil that smell like sour milk so I can stuff them into an envelope and pay to send them back to the distributor. Why don’t they just keep track of the sales and make the corresponding donation? It can all be done electronically. Instead, they’re leaving it to us to do all of this useless legwork because they figure we probably won’t do it and they’ll get the publicity of donating without actually having to donate. Cheap, lazy bastards.

So, my friends are always asking me “Hey, Bono. When are you gonna get all tatted out?”

Good question, my friend. I’d love sleeves, but I appear to be the love child of Jack Skellington and Harry from Harry and the Hendersons, so that pretty much rules out any part of my body that could potentially grow hair. Not only that, ink is effing expensive, so it would have to be something practical. Something that will eventually pay for itself.

I think I’ll get my palms ruled.

WTF is with writers and pen names? If your name is Ricky Casper, you don’t need a pen name.


I’ve come across a lot of bad book titles:

  • Hogan’s Run
  • On Thin Ice

And bad character names:

  • Don Coyote
  • Dr. T.

Apparently, dude got his degree.

“I pity the fool who don’t say ‘cheese’ when I give colonoscopies.”


Oh, shit. I’m about to flow.

“Things that Eminem says to his gynecologist?”


Wheel of Fortune, Before and After:


the fool.

I still don’t completely understand that category.

A real item from my “to do” list: Save Jesus for Christmas.

The latest slogan from the church down the street: “You can’t stumble when you’re on your knees.” Yeah. And you can’t talk back, either.

That was actually last week’s. This week's says “You’ll never get anything done by starting tomorrow.”

That doesn’t carry a lot of weight coming from Jesus.

Seriously though. I joke, but the one that really got to me was “To reduce your spirituality, simply close your bible.”

That is exactly the kind of head-in-the-sand thinking that is the major flaw of most religions. To quote the great philosopher Tom Smothers:

“All religions have one thing in common.”

The belief in a supreme being, you may ask?

“No. All religions believe that they’re the only one who’s right.”

With the possible exception of the U-U’s, I think he hit it on the head there. This church takes it a step further by advertising that not only does their god have a bigger dick than everyone else’s god, but their god is the only one with such equipment. And apparently it’s impossible to spooge yourself with the spirit if you don’t bow down and grab your ankles to this particular god.

Of course, you don’t have to look far for exceptions. I don’t know if Buddha ever cracked a bible, but he was a pretty spoogy guy. You know. Enlightenment and all.

Perhaps my favorite exception would be the poetry of the British Romantic period. It is the beginning of England’s initial break from traditional Christian thought and an embracing of oneness with nature in a manner that coincidentally mirrors the Advaita Vedanta philosophy of certain sections of India.

+5 nerd points.

My college education and your tax dollars at work.

I took that education and that piece of paper and used them to sell cakes for a living. One recent wedding cake was for Paula Spackman.

Congratulations, Ms. Spackman.

If I was marrying someone with the last name Spackman, I would totally take her last name.

I wonder if she has a sister.

“Yes! Oh, God, yes! WAKA WAKA WAKA!”

I dream of Jeannie. She’s a light brown hare.

For those of you who still oppose same sex interspecies relationships, first of all, get with the times.

I mean, how would you like it if they voted on who you could and could not eat?

You too, ladies.

Such closed-mindedness by Americans at large is denying the happiness of equal rights to such perfect couples as Fozzie Bear and Pac Man.

“Yes! Oh, God, yes! WAKA WAKA WAKA!”

Where I come from, that’s called love.

Before you criticize, think of how much you enjoy eating chicken boobs.


Rocky Horror described in terms of Ricky Martin: (S)he bangs.

I wonder what Ricky Martin is doing right now.

(S)he bangs.

That very well may be the case. His rise and fall were so quick; I doubt he took the time for proper financial planning. If it happened to me, I would not be living the vida loca. I’d invest half of it in Morris Mutual Funds and take the rest of it to my friend Asabulah who works in securities.

At least Sisqo had the foresight to be able to fall back on his computer networking empire.

Let me see that 0111010001101000011011110110111001100111.


That 0111010001101000011011110110111001100111, 0111010001101000011011110110111001100111, 0111010001101000011011110110111001100111, 0111010001101000011011110110111001100111, 0111010001101000011011110110111001100111.

R Kelly, however, is only interested in your

+8 Nerd Points.

Free punk band name: The Constipated Elvises


I got a letter from the government addressed to Mr. (me) and Miss (my roommate’s girlfriend) warning us against signing over the deed to our house to some stranger claiming to help keep us from losing our home.

Hokay, so:

  1. We rent. By now I’m a bit suspicious of this random, unsolicited attempt at making contact from some “assembly member” I have never heard of who obviously knows where we live, but didn’t manage to get a single generalized assumption about us correct. Sounds like a scam.
  2. Is this what America has come to? We need to be told not to sign the deed to our house away to some random person?
  3. Yes. Remember McGruff, the crime dog? That bitch who used to come on in between Mr. Rogers and Reading Rainbow and tell you not to talk to strangers? He is now doing commercials aimed at preventing adults from falling victim to identity theft. I saw it with my own eyes after seeing Lance Bass dressed up as a giant banana on Let’s Make A Deal. Forget that I had a 101 degree fever. That shit really happened.

I’m not scaremongering. This is really happening.

Dear Amazon: Why are you offering me the best deal on a $280 pair of moon boots? Do you know something I don’t?

I hope I’ll never have to perform for a room full of ghosts.

One of the many reasons I don’t have TV: Jay Leno is still employed.

But that does allow for a new party game: Try to guess what combination of anti-depressants Kevin Eubanks is on.


I also got one from a Ying Ding, which I think makes for a much better euphemism.

I heard on the news that they will be building a new Target where I live, generating X amount of dollars per year in sales tax revenues for the city. How did they figure that out? Did they add up the amount of annual sales tax from the local businesses that will be displaced by the new Target? Keep in mind, they did not say X amount of additional tax dollars per year. What are we solving here? I know the simple act of construction will generate jobs and kick more money back into the hands of the workforce, but that’s a temporary solution with a long-term side effect. The only thing left for Mom and Pop to do is to buy some flannel and get fitted for hard hats. I’m pretty sure they sell both of those at Target.

I freaked out because the soap I bought wasn’t sealed. But then I remembered that it’s soap.

That’s almost as bad as having to go get a sharp object to open my package of razors.

Wheel of Fortune, funny Same Name: Forrest Bush

And now this week’s installment of free bad standup material:

People have stopped me and asked, “Hey Bono. Why haven’t you been blogging on your jigglybits?”

Wait for it.

“If I could do that, I’d never leave the house.”


This jigglybit is getting pretty long. It may soon turn into a jigglybyte. If it gets to that point, please hold my hair.

I had a lady ask me “Do I pay first, or do I tell you what I want?”

The following is a real conversation with a grown-ass woman:

“Could you write on the cake ‘Happy birthday Lori?’”

“Sure, and could you spell the name for me please?”

“Oh…well…uh…maybe I should just put ‘Mom’…um…can I call you back?”

The following is a real conversation with a grown-ass man:

“I can’t remember the name of this one. Is it a Pecan Square?”

“No. It’s a triangle.”

I’m not even thirty yet, but I think I’m ready for senility. When I go into a room to do something, I immediately think of a more important reason to be in there, which invariably involves something that needed to be done prior in the room I just came from. So, I go back into that room, and more often than not, notice something else that I should eventually do while in the current room. But instead of getting what I need and going back into the other room to complete the important task, I sit down and get started on that eventual work because, fuck it, I’m here. I’ll get to that other thing later. If I remember. I’ll remember. If not, it wasn’t that important anyway.

If I own a house when I’m 80, it will be one bigass room.

It’s that time of the year for Mother Nature. Things could get a bit wild, so you have to prepare yourself in case she gets in a huff and decides to strip away the things we often take for granted. For example: If there’s a storm and your power goes out, you should make sure you have

a hand-crank radio tuned to Parliament Funkadelic.

But there’s more.

I wouldn’t just give you part 1 and leave you hanging. There was so much unresolved funk.

Rave reviews = Roger Ebert in a tent with a bunch of friends, eating pills, listening to techno music and passing judgment on things.


Things that blow my brain: I heard a blind woman say “Nice to see you.” Twice.

Maybe she’s a ninja.

Ninjas of the Caribbean would just be two hours of staring at an empty sea.

Cats are impatient bastards. Mine will walk right up to me and say, “Now!”

I tell it, “Later!”

I like what Prince sings about, but I prefer what Ella sings about.

Notes on love from a man who can’t get a girlfriend: If your man ever asks you to dress as a naughty nurse, wear a set of bloodstained scrubs to bed.

He’ll fucking love it.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009



Pimps with jetpacks.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Happy International Day of Peace.

I’d like to start it off by saying fuck the world.

Fuck neighbors with loud barking dogs, ignorant people with money, roommates with poor organizational skills, small children, any hour before 10:30am, warm beer, people who don’t return phone calls, people who care about celebrities, women who think they’re fat, Arnold Schwarzenegger, the fact that Schwarzenegger is in my spell check and Funkadelic is not, random construction with no apparent workers, people who don’t take care of their pets, fashion, zombies, electronic failures, human failures, stalkers, ex girlfriends, insects that make noise, paying upwards of $3 for a cup of coffee, giving cell phones to young children, day jobs and last but certainly not least, fuck Lance Armstrong. Fuck him, his stretchy yellow pants and resulting lopsided bulge. Where I’m from, you’d get your ass kicked for wearing shit like that. And I’m from an affluent suburb in the most liberal state in the nation.

Peace, love and jigglybits,


Saturday, September 19, 2009

Shalom, bitches.

This is when my boss goes up to people and says "Happy Roshanna" and then they give him money which he does not pass on to me.

And if Jurassic Park was real, bitches would be carrying around mini T. Rexes in their purses.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Commence to jigglin’

Sorry. I just flew in from Seattle and am still adjusting to the time difference.

Wherever I go, I run into people with the last name Williamson. Damn. William was a slut.

The government of the town I was staying in has a laptop on which they misspelled the name of the town.

It was fun. I could see Alaska from my house.

I slept on a memory foam pillow. It reminded me of what it's like to be asleep.

Right on, my Inuit.

I really wanted to get a snapshot of “Leisure/Jackson,” but laziness prevailed.

Other signs I wish I took pictures of:

“Useless Bay”

“Botany Bay” (+4 nerd points)

“Don't litter. It will hurt.”

“Bush Point Road”

I lived with someone who watches tv and I learned that America's Got Talent is judged by two Brits and a man who is only liked in Germany.

I met a man named Gar. He is not a pirate.

Some people are nervous about getting on a boat, but I’m ok. I just ate a crap ton of lifesavers.

I think all writers need water. You know. Like for survival, and stuff. Because you can write for a really long time, but you're eventually going to get thirsty.
Washington was fun, but I could see how it has one of the highest rates of suicide in the nation.

People are more predictable there. Their church slogan is "O happy day." The one here has “Before you master the bible, it must first master you.”

Apparently, God likes it rough.



Flying is a lot like watching the Olympics. When it comes to those crucial
moments, everyone scrutinizes minute details like they know what the hell
they're doing.

Whenever I have a lot of programs open it sounds like tiny armadillos having sex inside my computer.

I heard Stone Temple Pilots at the grocery store.

Worse yet, I heard a band that I saw live on soft rock radio alongside the John
Tesh Music Hour.

+3 old fuck points

I have a birthday coming up. I’m keeping my options open.

I'm down like James Brown in the ground.

Gertrude Baines, the world's oldest known person, died of a heart attack today.
She really should've watched what she ate.

LSD stands for Aaaaaaahh!!!

Jk. I've never done that shit.

Can't sleep. Clowns will eat me.

If anyone ever puts me in charge of developing an acronym, I will make it of all silent letters. But I’ll probably have to move to France to get away with that.

Whenever someone tells me about a corn maze, I think they're stuttering in

I like fruit on the bottom yogurt. The best part is the bottom. They should just make fruit.

I wonder if when the government named Indiana they knew it would one day also be the name of a porno.

Googling yourself is just foreplay to Youtubing yourself.

I may soon be writing for a variety show in LA. Hopefully, that will land me a job writing for film. I don’t really have the attention span to write the scripts, but I could name them.

Boondock Saints 2: The Legend of Curly’s God

Short fiction writers, this one’s for free: I snatched a fly out of the air, crushed it between my thumb and forefinger and dropped it in the trash. The next day, I find it on the floor a half inch away from the can. Ready, GO.

Autobiographical meta flash fictions:

I’ll call it “flash” because reading it gives the same feeling as finding out that the man in the trench coat looks his age.


The new shirt by Snorg Tees got the Konami Code incorrect. You can send your hate mail here:

Video games are not educational anymore. Ms. Pac Man taught me all about hermaphroditism.

Mustachioed is among my favorite adjectives.

I heard a woman yell to her child "Give me the key! 5!...4!..."

5? What happened to 3? Kids these days have a much shorter attention span. She should be starting at 1.

"Kids these days?" Jebus. +2 more old fuck points.

Jeremiah was in fact a South African speckled brown toad.

I bought ink online and it sent me a link where I could print an invoice.

So, I did. And this was page 2:

If you can’t read it, that says “Thanks for recycling!”

Little Red Corvette.

The latest in unnecessary news coverage: It took an interview with a government official to gain the headline “Teddy was loved.”

Clearly Nixon propaganda.

Soldiers in Afghanistan commemorated the anniversary of 9-11 with a 21 gun
salute, or as the citizens of Afghanistan call it, "Holy crap!"

I find the following disturbing because they actually get away with it:
  • Mayo that is healthy because it has Omega-9
  • A cattle farm that is good for the environment
  • The school library being described as adjacent to the coffee shop
  • Religious people who call praying “kneemail.”

Ok, so they don’t really get away with that. But that doesn’t mean I hate it any less.

Also in that category would be women who wear clothing with pockets and still keep their iPhone in their boobs.

And women who keep candy in their boobs to hand out to little kids.

Men don’t do that kind of stuff. I don’t know a single man who keeps M&Ms in his asscrack.

Or his boobs.

I recently came across someone (a writer, no less) who spells them “bubbies.”

Even this guy knows better:

If I ever get on Wheel of Fortune, I hope I'm pitted against two smurfs.

Funny name: Dhi Bui

I washed a peach and it became a nectarine.

Do you drink it with pasta puttanesca?

Whenever someone says to me “I wanna bowla soup,” I’m not sure if they’d like the meal, the weapon or the deadly monkey virus.

In the medical world, H1N1 = Photobucket

In the gaming world, H1N1 = you’ve sunk my PT boat

For those of you who read Entertainment Weekly on a fairly regular basis:

In: Making fun of Timberlake
Out: Making fun of Kanye
Forever: Making fun of Bono

I’ll take famous hammers for 500.


I want to go to a club, but not one where I’d have to dress in ridiculous clothes, dance to bad remixes of worse music, drink watered down beverages, deal with douchey rich kids and pay a hefty fee just to enter the building.

I want to go to a bar.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Miss me?

Sorry about the lack of real updates. I’m an obsessive compulsive procrastinator.

When you sneeze and fart at the same time, you’re never quite sure of what’s going to happen.

Yes, it’s good to be back.

Did you know Schwinn makes a stationary bicycle? It’s a regular bicycle that sits in your garage because you’re too lazy to ride it.

We should form a stationary bike gang. Just a group of friends to come over and eat gummy bears in front of the TV.

Crabtree is persisting
. When that happens, you generally get a stronger ointment.

Scotch Whiskey (n) - Whiskey that just doesn’t see the point in you spending so much money

Who does the stork fuck?

Being a writer sometimes means looking at a story and thinking “I need to make a baby.”

I absolutely love it when someone complaining about the lack of spell check software misspells the word “typo.”

I meant to type, “Where my Dad hangs his suits” but instead typed, “Where my Dad hangs his shit.” That’s a bit of a slip for someone who is pretending to be 8 years old.

I have an idea for a better TV show: Family Freud

My shit is stuff.

Overheard gem: “My friend, LeBron, only she’s white and a woman.”

I don’t have biceps. I have lesbianceps.

To be honest, I’m a bit scared to fuck an opera singer.

I miss being away from the real world, but I don’t miss Fresno. For those of you who have never been, it’s kinda like the other valleys in California. Except where Napa has wine, Fresno has raisins.

And it is the only city I know of that is consistently described as “The devil’s (insert orifice here).”

And the devil apparently has all of the orifices.

Why are churches shaped like hats? Did God used to work at Lids in the mall?

That would explain the uniform:


Oops. No. I meant:


Recycling jokes is fun.


The following makes me lose hope in humanity:

The 10:00 news reporting on a Facebook group.

That Facebook group trying to keep the Lodi city council from eradicating their tradition of

Opening their meetings with a prayer to Jesus

Oh, christ.

I’m almost certain that Cannibal Corpse was a Christian band.

Necrophiliacs are just looking for posthumous organ donors.

Contraceptive (n) - Someone who is generally warm to the idea of playing old video games.

Ladies, do you want to know how to please a man?

Up Up Down Down Left Right Left Right B A B A Select Start.

40 lives = long time.

Overheard gem: “I love you. My whole world revolves around you. Blah blah blah.”

Perfection is when the kid at Safeway throwing a tantrum and screaming at his mother, “I don’t wanna go to the store! I don’t wanna go to the store!” does so while standing in front of the condoms.

I got all up in Greenhaven’s pocket last week. There was a sign that read, “It takes a whole community to raise a child,” followed by one that read “If you can dream it, you can do it,” followed by a fire station advertising a safe place to abandon your baby.

I had a dream in which I had an incredible idea for something to write here, but I didn’t write it down, and when I woke up, it was gone.

Always take notes.

Someone recently challenged me to a duel because we share the same last name. I win by default, because my first name isn’t Jed.

But he just got engaged, so I guess he wins.

Given my family’s history of heart disease, I’ve been cooking healthier foods. Today I made a sandwich with lean meats, plenty of veggies and fresh-baked bread. On the side: Cheetos.

I sure hope Obama’s reforming health care during a recession doesn’t amount to “An apple a day...”


Health food = filtered water used to cook fat-free hot dogs smothered in chili and cheese.

I love all dairy products except for the smell emanated by the actual dairy.

The cow is just a tasty animal. Even its secretions lead to yummy goodness.

Menudo, however, is a failure in inductive reasoning.

So is veganism.

Am I the only one who sees a parallel in religions and eating habits? Certain people are just gluttons for punishment.

I passed by Albertaco’s Mexican Food. If your name is Albertaco, then you’ve found your calling.

Funny work email name: Pam Horn shortened to

I feel sorry for strippers. This economy needs to turn around so they can go back to fighting fires.

I got a Blackberry for work. I named it RIMjob.

I’m in the midst of some work-related craziness. It's kinda like when you run a marathon and then they say "Nice warm up lap" and put up hurdles and strap sandbags to your ankles and blindfold you and spin you around and then you're all like "What the shit? Bring it on!"

I've heard someone refer to their job as "giving birth," but I think that's a bit of a stretch.

It’s ok if you don’t like me anymore.

I've come to terms with that.

I was talking to an old lady who was recovering from a stroke, and I felt a sneeze coming on. She kept on talking and I didn’t want to appear rude or, god forbid, sneeze on her. So I held it in. She thought I was making fun of her and got all pissed.

I didn't go see Seinfeld when he was in in town, and I'm ok with that.

This is what we call a “before” pic.

I didn't go see Mitch when he was in town, and I'm forever kicking myself for that.

Exfoliated sounds a lot more violent than it is. It sounds like a synonym for scalping.

We were in the gorge and they surrounded us. They descended upon Johnson. They exfoliated him. The savages.

Sometimes when I’m stuck at a traffic light, I do weird things with my tongue just in case the person in the car next to me is looking.

I booked a flight on Southwest Airlines just to hear them say, “Please turn off your electronic devices. As of Tuesday, our plane is one.”

Perhaps my favorite part about flying is wasting tons of gas trying to find economy parking.

A friend just told me that "Most things happen in the first 5 minutes and the last 8 minutes of a flight, so sit near an exit, be alert, don't fall asleep or read, or anything like that." The last time my plane took off, I was reading Nietzsche rant about how there is no god.


Sounds like he frequents

The band down the street is playing a song I heard in the supermarket yesterday. Minus 5 rock points.




Bowls are unnecessary if you have a really large spoon.

Spooning leads to forking. And if you read Shakespeare, forking leads to knifing.

I randomly ran into someone from high school who appears to have developed an eating disorder since then. I’m glad to see he’s finally doing something with his life.

When a Mexican woman asks her husband for oral.

I hope I don’t take so long to get back to you again. But if I do, remember. It’s not the size of the time, it’s the notion of devotion.


Come jiggle with me.