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Family Fun With Frogs

It is sad when the funniest thing I have seen in a long time is a Family Guy skit.  Plus it involves a dead frog.  I don’t really understand what it is about this that I find so funny, but it makes me laugh out loud.

I usually even think they carry a scene on too long, but this one is just hilarious.  Sorry to all you frog lovers.

I’ve Lost That Blogging Feeling

I’ve been pretty lax in my blog work as of late.  Hell, I have pretty much been phoning it in for the last few months.  In case you haven’t noticed, Liz has been out blogging me, and that is pretty hard for her to do.  At least one of her 25 cats is usually sleeping on top of her computer key board, and she hates to disrupt their peaceful slumber.

I’ve noticed that this is not a problem that is restricted to me.  Several of my old faithful blog compatriots have been slacking off and going at it half heartedly.  I have even noticed a lack of effort in my spam comments.  I used to get hundreds a week full of valid attempts to fool my spam blocking programs.  Misspelled words, exclamation points, and my all time favorite, “Wow this is an awesome blog!  Speaking of awesome, wouldn’t a larger penis be awesome?  Check out this amazing website.”

Now they don’t seem to really care about my penis size anymore.  I only get about 50 a week and they are worded, “small penis?  read this.” Even a mediocre spam blocker, or even Windows Vista, could tell that is bad and block it. 

I have no idea what can be done to boost my blogginess.  I have been really busy working for money and working for the prospect of money.  Unfortunately, the prospective money is much more time consuming, and much less rewarding.  I am thinking of taking all my financial worth and going to Vegas, finding the nearest craps table and putting it all on one roll of snake eyes.  That would at least be more efficient and have immediate results.  It’s the waiting the kills me.

I hesitate to put myself in a slump, but rather view it as an incline that is causing a temporary slow down.  The beer isn’t as tasty right now, the Gold Bond hasn’t been as tingly on my testicles, and I have been too busy to go to Liz’s house and fart on her newly upholstered chairs.  Those are my usual spirit lifting, “glad to be alive” moments, and they are not working.  What is a simple man to do when the simple things are no longer simple?

Don’t cry for me Argentina. 

I’ll be back soon enough, and when I do...I’m doubling up on the nut powder, grabbing a six pack of beer, two burritos and heading over to Liz’s house.  Because if you can’t share your happiness with the ones you love, what is the point in being happy?

Rent is For Chumps!

Here is one for paranoid schizophrenics and frightened children everywhere.

Japanese Man Finds Woman Living in Closet

A Japanese guy apparently noticed some food missing from his apartment, so thinking some thing fishy has been going on, set up hidden surveillance cameras in his home.  He noticed a woman walking around his apartment eating his food.

He calls the police, they search the apartment, and find a woman living in a crawl space in his closet.

Holy Shit!  How many times, for you parents, has your kid stated a fear of something being in the closet?  How many times, for you schizos, have you KNOWN that somebody is in the closet?  Well it might just be true. 

Those damn Japanese can live in the smallest places.

So, you hear some scuttling in the walls and assume you have mice...Yuck!  You have an exterminator come to your house to spray and set “humane” traps, only to have him report, “Well, you don’t have mice.” You sigh a deep breath of relief until, “But, you do seem to have a small Japanese infestation.  I caught two in a humane trap...one committed Hara-Kiri, and the other I am going to release back into the wild.  Probably near that Benihana, downtown.” You ask if that was the last of them, but he shakes his head, “They breed pretty efficiently, but if you see two, there are probably more.”

The lesson here is:  If your soy sauce seems to be running out faster than it should...you should probably double check the closets before dancing in front of the mirror naked to “foot loose”.  You might not be alone, and those guys LOVE some bad eighties karaoke. 

Indianapolis is Indianatastic!

Ok, I am probably too drunk to be posting, and I am not normally a drunk blogger...I am usually a drunk eater, a drunk sleeper and often a drunk farter, just ask Liz for verification.  But, I am currently in Indianapolis for MORE corporate, fun training time and it is a pretty cool town. 

I don’t mean that because they have the Colts, or a few “minor” car races here occasionally, but this is a cool downtown area to drink and eat. 

As someone who is prone to finding breweries, they seem to have some good ones all in a two block radius, and a wicked steak joint, St. Elmo’s, which we were first intrigued by due to the classic eighties flick or the same moniker, I really appreciate this joint.

Also it doesn’t hurt to come into a town with low expectations. 

I understand it is really difficult to comprehend that someone from Mississippi is thinking of any town as boring, but I have never really known anyone from this area, and I have lived, at least for small stretches, in some of the biggest and best cities in America.  Indianapolis ranks pretty well with most. 

Now, keep in mind that I haven’t been here for more than 24 hours yet, and I have been drunk for around one third of that time.  BUT, so far so good! 

Stay tuned for my next post, which will probably be titled..."Indianapolis:  If I was going to be anally raped in prison, this might as well be the place.”

How to Eat Coochie

Alternate titles: 

Pandering to the Google Crowd

Sunshine for Othurme

Blogistan appears to be in a creative recession.  At least here in the respectable, lower middle class section of Blogistan that I frequent. 

When I started blogging, several years ago, there were very few blogs I read, and very few people that read this one.  Mostly I would read what Liz posted at her blog, and she and my Mother, would read mine.  When Liz became lazy, and tried to quit, I convinced her to join me here in an attempt to retain my primary reader, at least the one not related to me. 

Somehow a fellow by the name of Othurme wandered in one day and poked about long enough to become a nuisance.  When I followed him back to his blog, it was quite enjoyable.  From there we would find many other bloggers and eventually find out that there was more to Blogistan than hyperactive tweener bloggers living in Singapore and random Mommy bloggers touting pictures of ugly kids. 

One of my all time favorite aspects of Othurme’s blog, http://immunopressed.com, was his feat of becoming the number one google hit for “How to eat coochie”.  It showed that through hard work and diligence, one man can master the universe. 

I checked recently and it was no longer held by him.  Those feats were easier when we both had blogspot listings.  The evil Google empire appears to give much leverage to it’s own sites, although they claim to be neutral.  (I’m sorry google...I did not really mean that...don’t move me down the list, please)

Lately Othurme has been taking a hiatus from blogging and I figured this was my chance to step in and steal his limelight.  I have always wanted that star listing, but figured that if I tried to make my move, Othurme would pounce back into the race. 

So here is my official instructions on How To Eat Coochie:

How to Eat Coochie

The key to coochie eating is coochie selection.  If you choose a coochie that is past is prime, then no matter what recipe you follow, it just won’t taste right.  Also important to remember, if you choose a coochie that has not fully ripened.  It will be bitter, disappointing, and can lead to imprisonment. 

Back in the seventies it was easy to tell a coochie that was ready for eating.  It had hair.  Now, the trend has moved towards making all coochie look like it belongs on a eight year old, so more elaborate tests need to be used.

I have heard some say you should thump the coochie like a cantaloupe in order to determine it’s ripeness, but in today’s litigious society that test can lead to lawsuits, loss of job, or both.  I personally prefer the more sure fire method of asking to see some form of government issued identification.  You can never be too cautious when choosing the ripeness of the coochie.  If you decide to forgo this step and jump straight into the first coochie that is presented you, you run a serious risk of incarceration.  If that should happen you might be more interested in my next installment in the “How To” series, “How to Toss a Salad”.

Once you have ascertained the proper ripeness of the coochie you can finally proceed to the next step, Preparing the coochie.

First and Foremost:  You have to make sure the coochie WANTS to be eaten.  It’s not an inanimate object like a taco, well it’s sort of like a taco; you can’t just pounce and eat...you have to consider the coochie’s feelings in all this.  Woman’s lib really ruined the ease of coochie eating.  Long gone are the days of coochie buffets, now you have to consider HER needs.  What has the world come to.

After you have received the go ahead for coochie eating make sure you understand that you are not Literally “eating coochie”, don’t go chomping and chewing.  You have to love the coochie, you have to caress the coochie. 

So, you have caressed the coochie and now you want to wrap things up so you can get your return in investment.  I mean lets be honest, you weren’t eating that coochie for coochie’s sake, it was in hopes that she would return the favor.  You don’t want to waste the entire night down there. 

I know it seems like there should be more to these steps, but I usually have trouble getting past the first two steps.  To be honest, I was going to shoot an instructional video using a full scale model I built out of a couple slices of bologna and a sweet gerkin pickle (serving as the fabled clitoris).  Although it didn’t look good on film, it was surprisingly tasty on toasted wheat. 

In truth I am hoping this motivates Othurme to get out of his funk and return to Blogistan in order to fight for what was once rightfully his. 

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