Hello all you faithful readers of Killer Rants with Liz. And an even greater welcome to all you new readers, especially everyone who is here from the Nablopomo world. A few more days before the official Month-long-daily-posting begins. (November)
I asked you all here today to make an announcement that has been a long time in coming.
As usual we are going to announce the Employee of the Month here at the illustrious Killer Rants Corporation and Small Engine Repair.
This month however there has been an upset. We have had a domination of this honor since it was began earlier this year, but this month one person in particular has out performed, out witted and frankly, out shined both the other employees here at Killer Rants.
Since it would be unethical for me to name myself Employee of the Month, although Lord knows I deserve it, it gives me great pleasure to present to you the October 2007, Killer Rants Corporation and Small Engine Repair’s, Employee of the Month: Our very own....Liz!
We in upper management would like to offer our deepest congratulations, along with this five dollar gift certificate for Cat Fancy Magazine, to Liz.
Liz’s picture is also being added to the official Employee of the Month plaque that is proudly displayed in the elegant foyer of the corporate headquarters. Also, once we get that sewage leak fixed she will be able to park in the Employee of the Month parking spot.
I am including the Employee of the Month plaque for all everyone to appreciate the honor she has earned.
It also will give everyone an opportunity to see who it was that she beat for this position. Can she hold on to the position next month? Only time can tell.
The following post was originally posted at Killer Rants blogger version on Thursday, March 15, 2007
Our spending so much time together traveling around, combined with our immaturity, brought about the frequent formation of new words to describe our actions and/or derogatory remarks of one another. It has been said that when myself, Chad, Clib and Disco get together it can be very difficult for an outside person to understand what we are talking, and subsequently, giggling about. Most often this is said by Clib’s wife, Mrs. Clib.
Here is a list of some of the words/phrases we use in regular conversation with each other.
Anius: Combo of anus and genius. Refers to a person who has done something stupid, but thinks it was something great.
Cup of Soup: When you fart into your hand, or a hat, and throw it into someone else’s face.
Grump: Poop (as in, “I have to grump” or “I’m feeling a bit grumpy")
HUD house: Outhouse/Porta potty/Pit Toilet (as in, “This campground better have a HUD house, I gotta grump.”
Couch Monkey: A person who is living on your couch, usually over staying their welcome.
50% of Dick is Dick: When someone offers you a deal, but it is not very good.
Onion: A nice Ass. (as in, “Check that onion.") often said in an exaggerated Coon Ass drawl, Un-Yawn.
Turd Cutter: Also a nice Ass.
Fuck Me in The Goat Ass: A response to something unbelievable.
Crop Dusting: Walking in front of someone and farting.
Disrespecting an Area: A warning to others you just farted. (as in, “I just totally disrespected this 7-eleven.")
Nerts/Juevos/Cajones/Junk/Kibbles n Bits/My Boys/Das Nuts: Testicles
Go Balls Out: Give it all you got.
Sherm: Sex. (as in, “Did you see Sherm?” “Man, it’s been so long since I’ve seen Sherm, I don’t even remember what he looks like.")
Craptastic: When something is bad.
2 Cd’s for Free: Asking someone if they want to look at your testicles. (as in, “Would you like 2 CD’s for Free?...See Deeze Nuts!” at this point you must point to your crotch with both hands)
Brown Eye: Squatting over a sleeping person with your naked ass. (as in, “If you fall asleep, I am going to give you the Brown Eye.")
Zap: Gay. (as in, One time Clib came out wearing cover-alls with no shirt, we thought he looked like a gay, male stripper. Instead of saying that, we all kept saying “zap” to him all day.” This is stolen from The Simpsons season 8, when Homer thought Bart was gay, because Bart was walking around with a laser gun saying, “zap”.
zero + zero = gay: A way to tell someone they are not dating enough. (as in, “How many girls did you go out with last month?” reply, “none.” “How many girls have you gone out with this month?” reply, “none.” “Hmmm, zero + zero = gay.") To be fair, gay people could say, “zero+zero= straight”
Corky: Mentally or physically challenged.
Smelling European: Bad body odor. (as in, “Dude, you are smelling mighty European.")
Rick: When you are inconsiderate of your fellow travelers, or become increasingly annoying. (as in, “Quit being a Rick, and let’s get out of here.")
2000 Baht: A reference to a hot chick, or a reference to a prostitute. (as in, “I’d give that chick 2000 Baht.” or “I bet she charges 2000 Baht.") This is derived from the frequent price given (unsolicited) from Thai whores, while walking down Bangkok streets.
Corbin: A derogatory comment about a city or town. (as in, “This place is almost as bad as Corbin.") On one of our very first trips, we got lost and then the bike rack mysteriously snapped off the back of the van in Corbin, Kentucky, forever making it the worst town in the world. On a side note: Corbin is the birth place of KFC.
I am going to pound your prostate: A term of endearment, sort of like, I love you.
Do you and your friends have any special words or phrases?
The following post was originally posted at Killer Rants blogger version on Saturday, April 07, 2007.
Liz is kinda sorta happy to contribute:
When you study ancient civilizations you learn about the tributes that the common people paid to the king and the king’s guards. You find out that taxes have been around even longer Larry King, which seems impossible but is true. I try to mark all historical events as “pre” and “post” Larry.
Wasn’t it Franklin who said, “There are two certain things in life. Death and taxes.”? He left out asshole, but that’s a whole other rant.
Taxes serve obvious purposes, but what I’m getting taxed seems extreme because there appears to be little accountability on how the money is spent. The IRS has a clever way of disguising this shafting. They call it a refund.
I did my taxes yesterday and had a severe case of Intaxication; Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize that it was your money to start with. Once I saw that a cool $1500 was coming my way, I made all sorts of plans, including a real vacation and a shiny new dishwasher. Then I thought about it and a stream of profanity came from my pure lips.
I get to spend about 70% of my money the way I want to, with around 30% going to taxes. Even though I’m doing 100% of the work. I am the government’s sugar daddy. This pisses me off. Do sugar daddies have a say in how their money gets spent or do they simply give an allowance? I need to know in order to best maintain my role. If Congress is my bitch, I need the protocol on how to treat ‘em. And I think I should get to stay in any congressional office I want to when I visit Washington. I’m paying for it. A couch will do. And a foot rub.
Unrelated but always relevant, I have noticed that as I age my standards of good looking have dramatically dropped. When I was a kid I found the following people disgusting looking: Luke Duke, Bea Aurthur, Alan Alda, and Rhoda. Now 35, these people aren’t mutants. Hell, Luke Duke is HOT and Rhoda is actually pretty. What is the lowering of standards called? Hotollerance? Poor vision? I now also think Stephen Colbert is fine, when I know that at 9 I would have simply thought he looked like someones dad. Yes. I said FINE.
How about you? Was there any one you thought horribly ugly as a child that you now think, “You know, with enough drinks in me I might...”?
The following post was originally posted on Killer Rants blogger version on Tuesday, December 12, 2006.
“I’m just scratching my balls. If I ever need help for that I will kill myself.”
“You’re too fat to be a nurse, go lose twenty pounds and try again.”
“A man nurse! Their gonna let that bitch, Hillary, be President, and my nurse has a dick. What has happened to America?”
“Your not giving me a suppository! Look at the size of your fingers!”
Patient one: “You have to move me, the guy in the next bed smells like elephant shit.”
Patient two: “You spend much time around elephant shit?”
Patient one: “No, that’s why I gotta move.”
“After you wipe my rear I want you to show me the toilet paper so I can assess my stool.” (studies used toilet paper for about a minute) “My doctor says my paralysis is all psychological. Does that look like the stool of a crazy person?”
Patient: “I think the woman in the next bed has had a bowel movement.
Me: “That bed is empty.”
Patient: “Well that just leaves you and me, and I think I would know if I had a bowel movement.”
Me: “I’ll go the bathroom and check.” (It was her)
Patient: “You guys are always poking me with a needle. What, do you charge per stick?”
Me: “Yes, the more sticks the more I get paid.”
Patient: “I knew it! I can’t wait to tell my brother, he said that was ridiculous.”
Me: “I was only joking. I just like sticking people with a needle. I’d do it for free.”
Patient: “Oh, well I’m going to tell him anyway, he’s an asshole when he’s right.”
Patient: “A male nurse? Why aren’t you a doctor?”
Me: “I was but my patients kept dying so they demoted me.”
Patient: “Can you become a doctor again?”
Me: “If you live through the night I’m one step closer.”
Patient: “What if I die?”
Me: “I have to work in the cafeteria.”
The following post was originally posted at Killer Rants blogger version on Monday, December 04, 2006.
I’m reposting my very first blog post ever- but for a reason. The reason will be summed up in a future posting. It’s like a cliffhanger.
I hate cliffhangers. Sorry.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
The Generous Hairdresser
I have decided to make my first blog entry about my hairdresser because I find this story hysterical and everyone else I’ve shared it with has been violently disgusted. You be the judge.
Last night my drug-addict hair dresser told me that she’s JUST (as in yesterday) gotten out of the local mental institution where she did a 28 day stint at rehab. She always gives me these updates on the men in her life. About 6 months ago she was on a “tour” of sleeping with all of her ex-boyfriend’s best pals as a method of revenge on him for cheating on her. Classy. Next came a Vietnam Vet who lived with her in a motel for a little while before being able to score a FEMA trailer after a hurricane destroyed the home he never lived in, owned, or rented but was able to somehow claim. Currently she is sleeping with a younger guitar player who looks like Napoleon Dynamite but is physically “gifted” in ways that might not be obvious to the causal observer. She is struggling because she loves to be loved by him, but she finds him slightly repulsive to look at AND he has an obnoxious laugh.
Now, I LIKE this chick. She is TRASHY but she cracks me up. I wouldn’t trust her alone in my house- hell, I don’t even want her to know where I live- but I really dig her quick wit and hilarious spin on things. She’s asking me what to do about Napoleon (maybe I should call him “Dynamite") so I ask questions- getting a sense of the guy. IS he a good man? How close, exactly, is he to too ugly to screw? I mean, for some people they’ll hump anything that can’t outrun them and I’m thinking she might be like that, you know? She keeps going back to the fact that his “member” is so big they need to make a plaster mould out of it and display it. I’m trying to move beyond the anatomy and get to the “meat” of the issue. (Really, no pun intended).
Then it happens:My hair dresser, who told me that at one time she HAD hepatitis, my hair dresser, who has willingly disclosed that she’s sleeping on the couch at her youngest daughter’s boyfriend’s mother’s house (who, incidentally has a gambling problem), my hairdresser whose oldest daughter is in prison for federal burglary, my 42 year-old hairdresser who once told me that 3 years ago she had a one-night stand with a boy so young that she had to DRIVE HIM HOME the next day and they passed his mom WHO WAS RIDING AROUND IN HER SUBURBAN LOOKING FOR HER SON WHO MISSED CURFEW (he ducked down in the passenger’s seat but was still spotted by his mother) THIS hairdresser offered up Napoleon to ME for a free sample!!! I can’t HAVE him all the time, but if I want to see why it’s such a hard decision, I’m free to ask for the hookup and she’s willing to provide. We can share him, because, to quote her, “This stuff is too good for just one woman. You deserve a treat!”
OH MY GOD.
Although flattered (?), I am mortified!!! Do you think this was a 3-way invite or just extreme generosity? Is a sex partner really the type of thing you want a first-hand second opinion on? Once you have Hepatitis does it really go away?
I left the salon with MUCH lighter hair than intended due to the rambling story of Napoleon, but with a tale that I consider the perfect example of microblogology.