Friday, December 30, 2011

Bow Down Before Me (if that's okay with you...)

I have had a really crap couple of months. I got layed off.  My dad was in the hospital. Then my brother was in the hospital. My stress level was through the roof. Then my daughter got injured during school sports and was in the hospital for days and now needs round-the-clock care for the next several weeks, plus weeks or months of physical therapy. Then as of two days ago, I now have a throbbing abscessed tooth and can’t find an endodontist that can fit me in for a superfun root canal before THE MIDDLE OF GODDAMN JANUARY.

And the funny thing is, I am not a child molester. No wait, there’s a correlation here, just wait for it. I’m a good person. I pay my taxes, I never lie, cheat or steal. When the bank screws up and gives me an extra $20 at the drive-thru, I send it right back in the tube. Some random bank computer program then later sees the error on the receipt and realizes they sent too much through the drive-thru tube and deducts $20 from my checking account. I then have to call and beg and plead, describe the teller, explain the whole thing and swear on a stack of bibles, etc. To get back the money they took to get back the money I never got but gave back. 

So you see, sometimes “doing the right thing” is a big fat pain in the ass, and yet I do it, every time. I don’t gossip, even when the WHORES at our neighborhood Bunko game night gossip their big fat gossipy asses off. Shut up, that doesn’t count as gossip because I didn’t use any names. BUT YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, VERA AND MELANIE*


*pseudonyms so that Val and Mary don’t know I’m talking about THEM. Because I don’t want them to know I called them
 BIG FAT GOSSIPY WHORES.


So what I’m getting at here is that if Karma really worked and if life was actually fair, I wouldn’t be having such a crap month. My crap month would be bestowed upon some grisly child molester. I, instead, would be receiving packages of cash in the mail, I would be shitting diamonds, I would be winning major awards.

I know! I'm a super great draw-er!
With an exceedingly tiny head, apparently!


WAIT!!! Maybe the universe is listening, because LOOKIE WHAT I WON!!!

Yep, makes it all worthwhile, doesn't it?



Yvonne over at attractedtoshinythings gave me this prestigious award and not just because I said she was the foxiest, funniest, most awesomest supermodel on earth. But she is, so go over there right after you’re done here. I hear she’s trading blowjobs for bacon this week, so you might want to stock up on your cured pork products.

Anyhoodle, this award allows me (the OVERLORD, YO!) to change any three things that I want to, IN THE WHOLE WORLD! Here they are, in no particular order:


#1  Actual, Functional, Instant Karma

      I do believe that good things, by and large, come to good people. But more as an overall thing, over the course of your lifetime. Meaning, if you are a good person, bad things may still happen to you, but not as much as they do to crappy people, and overall your life will be better if you are a good person. 
      
      BUT how frickin nifty would it be if it was instantaneous? I have seen it a couple times, where a kid will say something shitty to my kid and right away fall off a swing or something else awesome… it’s such a marvelously satisfying feeling! But I want it to happen MORE. Maybe the world would be a better place if people were truly really rewarded for being nice and good, and punished for being assholes (right away, because like dogs, if there is a delay in the punishment, they may not GET it, because ASSHOLE-TYPE PEOPLE TEND TO BE QUITE STUPID!!). 

      Picture it. Your health insurance company’s customer service rep is being a complete dick to you on the phone, and then you hear him drop the business end of his stapler on his scrotum *ka-hrunk* -- wouldn’t that just be splendid? Or some bitch at Bunko is talking about how they don’t like any of the new people and names your name specifically and they suddenly sprout a BIG FAT GIANT DIMPLY COTTAGE-CHEESE MOTHERFUCKING RHINO-SIZED LARD ASS and wiry chin hairs and deep facial wrinkles (I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU, VAL! VERA! Oops! By the looks of Vera’s ass, Mother Nature already beat Karma to it!! Hahahahahaha!!!) Ahem. Anyway…



      

      #Shirley Better Weather Would be Nice

I live in Central Illinois. The weather BLOWS much of the time. By that I mean it sucks ass. If I had a nickel for every time I have said, “Why do we LIVE here!!??” in relation to enduring horrible weather, I’d have about 9 million nickels. And then I could go ahead and move somewhere else.

Dude, our winters are longggg. I mean, depending on El Nino or La Nina (the Spanish demigods of weather, apparently), we are potentially talking October through May, people. I am a sun person. I love the sun. I love laying out, searing my flesh like a slow roasted piece of savory meat. I know all about skin cancer and do not care. I love, love, lovelove the sun. I would move to Florida tomorrow if not for all the Floridians. So the second thing I would change would be my local weather. Look, I get that snow is pretty and kids love to play in it. FINE. Let there be some snow, just for a short period. But not too damn cold!!! And the change in seasons is rather nice. Makes you appreciate summer all the more. So here is my change in the weather, hope you like it:

SHIRLEY'S WEATHER

December 20 – January 10
31 degrees for the entire time period, with snow on the ground, but still sunny. This way everybody gets their fill of “winter” and a white Christmas and all that happy horseshit.   

Then instant beautiful spring for two months. Then summer (but not ungodly hot) for seven months. Then fall/autumn for two months.

No sub-zero temperatures in January. No 100-degree days in July. None of this four-months-without-seeing-the-sun BULLSHIT.  



#3   I Want Supreme Magical Power over Slot Machines

I know this sounds odd. I mean, I could just wish for a whole bunch of money. Or to win the lottery or something. But it would be SO MUCH FUN to be able to control slot machines, using them as both entertainment and as my own personal ATM. Plus it would be fun to feel like a WINNER any time I wanted to. I could also bestow winnings upon whomever I wanted, so it would give me the thrill of making other losers’ dreams come true. I could travel all over the world on my winnings, stopping at any nearby casino to “win” more money. And being that I’m a good person, I’d actually pay taxes on my winnings, so TAKE THAT, Karma.

I was actually at a casino two nights ago and could have really used this power, especially considering I lost $15.00. My parents are old and the local riverboat casino is their only form of entertainment. So instead of eating out, going to movies, bars, shows, etc., they go sit at the one-armed bandits and drink Coors Light on tap (only two though, because let’s not get crazy here). I met them at the casino the other night because I’ve been nursing my injured 12 year old and my husband thought if I had a night out I’d suddenly get unexplainably horny be less stressed. Have you ever tried to find ONE SPECIFIC old person in a riverboat casino? It’s hard. But gambling can be exciting, if you are winning, or at least not losing more than you would spend on a night out elsewhere. The most exciting part of this particular night was when I reached down between the slot machines and grabbed my drink and knocked it back and the ice hit my teeth and I thought, “Ice? I was drinking Coors Light.”


So those are the three changes I will make as OVERLORD. Hope you like them, minions! If not, then I won’t take you with me to the casino.

Now it is my duty to bestow this award to others. I select the following based on their raw sexiness:

The Jules at The Gravel Farm
Vinny C at As Vinny C's It
Gia at Mayor Gia
Mommy at Mommy Rotten


Thursday, December 15, 2011

Santa's Enforcer: The Elf on the Shelf

Now available, from Extortion Industries… Elf on the Shelf!

This is the hot new Christmas “tradition” annoying parents all over America -- a useless, overpriced and obnoxious product you have to buy for your child or suffer the consequences, because all of their friends will have one.  And if all of your child’s friends DO have one, you will look like a big fat Grinch for depriving your child of the privilege of having a dedicated stalker-on-premises, reporting their every move back to the big boss at the North Pole.

What kind of cretin merchandises such an awful product? A CRETINOUS MILLIONAIRE, apparently -- in my town, this ridiculous product has spread like wildfire.  In case you haven’t experienced this merry shakedown yet, let me explain.

According to their website, “A Christmas Tradition is the very special tool that helps Santa know who to put on the Naughty and Nice list.” Uh. Huh. “Special tool” is right.  This is a snarky looking little gremlin that comes with a story book explaining that the elf is Santa’s informant, spying on you all day and flying off to narc on you to the toy shop overlord at night.  When Santa’s minion  returns to break into your house every morning, he is always in a different place.  The book describes this as “magical”.  Is it just me or does that not sound kinda, I dunno, CREEPY?  As in, the plot of every horror movie involving some kind of homicidal doll?  As in, you turn around and the Chucky doll or carnivorous ventriloquist dummy is leering at you from a new location in your house…cue the dramatic music.




His behavior definitely reminds me of somethinggggg...


1988 Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc.





A homicidal “Chucky” doll, obvious similarities














Remember this one? From the old "Twilight Zone" TV show?
"I'm Talky Tina and I'm going to KILL YOU!"
Totally looks like Elf on the Shelf's
sister.

Talky Tina (the Living Doll) from 
The Twilight Zone, CBS, 1959-64



Creepy, yes?  We already own a Furby, which is plenty spooky, can’t I just have him stand guard on my daughter’s room and terrify her into behaving?  Anyway, if we are talking about using guilt, manipulation and intimidation to bamboozle my children into behaving, let me do that all by myself, it’s only natural.  

“You vill behave if you vant zee presents!”

As a side note, if you Google "Chucky", you may happen upon this disturbing image on “TotallyLooksLike.com”. Oh, and by "disturbing", I mean "hilarious":





But wait, there’s more!  Here’s the best part: they cost $30 each, but the kids think all they have to do is “make three wishes” and they get one.  They don’t even know it’s a product for sale in stores at a ludicrous price.  It’s not like you can say, “Money’s tight, little Timmy, let’s buy your medicine instead…”, because according to the legend (myth? deception? giant load of malarky? ), it only “costs” THREE WISHES! And let’s say you DO let them wish for this thing (which you have to know ahead of time so you can run around trying to find one before the wishes are made)… what happens when your little angel sees this pricey mutant freak on the shelf at Target?  

Between Santa and the Tooth Fairy, I feel like I tell my child enough bald-faced lies throughout the year. Speaking of the Tooth Fairy, this monster is like the Tooth Fairy EVERY NIGHT FOR A MONTH. If you don’t move the little troll around EVERY NIGHT, your children will think the elf and Santa FORGOT ABOUT THEM. Good thing you have nothing better to do, parents.

Isn't Christmas supposed to be about CHRIST? And isn't religious GUILT enough of a motivator for kids to behave? I mean, anybody ever heard of a little ole place called THE FIERY PITS OF HELL?? Hello? You don't need an overpriced elf for this. If your child is misbehaving, you can just show them a picture of Christ up on the cross and say, "Jesus is crying 'cause you're not really trying.”

Since the creator of this product is probably swimming in a pool of crisp thousand-dollar bills every night, he might want to think about how to continue to keep the cash rolling in once every willing victim household already has one of these holly jolly hobgoblins.  In the spirit of the chia pet, in which the creators “spun off” several different versions of the same lame piece of crap, the inventor of the Elf on the Shelf may want to consider several other hot money-makers:


or... 

or... 


or... 




So, thanks to the more easygoing (read: less-grinchy) parents in my daughter's school who embraced this trend (or perhaps just simply went along with it, sighing), I had to sit my nine-year old down tonight and explain to her that I wasn't going to allow the three wishes of doom, that having a stalker elf in the house was "way creepy and gross" and furthermore, "That sounds like something only for naughty kids and you're a GOOD kid, you don't want some entry-level snitch spying on YOU, you're already getting great presents."  


Oh, and I added some other stuff about Jesus being the reason for the season, just for insurance. 


Sunday, December 11, 2011

Santa’s Enforcer: The Elf on the Shelf

Now available, from Extortion Merchandise Inc… Elf on the Shelf! This is the latest horrifying commercialization of Christmas -- a product you have to buy for your child or suffer the consequences, because all their friends have one. And if all your child’s friends DO have one, you will look like a big fat asshole for depriving your child of the opportunity to have a creepy stalker on-premises to spy on your child and report their every move back to the big boss at the North Pole. Don’t know how to parent? Can’t possibly control your kids without a miniature Chucky doll to keep them in line? Elf on the Shelf!

What kind of asshole merchandises such an awful product? A FUCKING MILLIONAIRE, that’s what kind. In my town, this dumbass product has spread like mouth herpes at a frathouse party. In case you aren’t lucky enough to have been subject to this merry extortion, let me explain.

According to their website, Elf on the Shelf is “A Christmas Tradition is the very special tool that helps Santa know who to put on the Naughty and Nice list.” Firstly, nice fucking grammar, idiots. Secondly, the truth is, Elf on the Shelf is a hideously ugly little gremlin fucker that comes with a self-serving, spooky-ass story book. The book explains that the elf is your own personal stalker, who spies on your every move all day and flies to the North Pole to narc on you to Santa at night. When he returns and breaks into your house every morning, he is always in a different place. Is it just me or does that not sound like the plot of every homicidal doll  movie? You turn around and the Chucky doll or ventriloquist dummy or carnivorous clown is leering at you from a new location in your house.
The actual "Elf on the Shelf"
He OBVIOUSLY wants to kill you, amiright?
Or maybe he's just constipated.

Another homicidal doll, obvious similarities


Remember this one? From the old "Twilight Zone" TV show?
"I'm Talky Tina and I'm going to KILL YOU!"
Totally looks like Elf on the Shelf's sister

As a side note, if you Google "Chucky", you may find this disturbing image. 
By "disturbing", I mean "hilarious":

Hahahahaha!!

Creepy, right? I already own a Furby, which is spooky as shit, can’t I just have him stand guard on my daughter’s room and terrify her into behaving? Or wouldn’t a canine shock collar be more immediate? Or I could just try PARENTING, hmmmm... that's just crazy enough to work. 

"You vill behave if you vant zee presents!!!!"


Here’s the funny part. At some point, all your kids friends will have them, they cost $30 each, but the kids think all they have to do is “make three wishes” and they get one. They don’t even know it’s a product for sale in stores at a bullshit price. What happens when your little angel sees this pricey mutant freak "on the shelf" at Target?? Hmmmm????

Between Santa and the Tooth Fairy, I feel like I tell my child enough bald-face lies throughout the year.  Speaking of the Tooth Fairy, this monster is like the Tooth Fairy EVERY NIGHT FOR A MONTH. You have to move the little assload around EVERY NIGHT or your children will think the elf and Santa FORGOT ABOUT HIM/HER because they are AWFUL CHILDREN. Glad you don’t have enough to do, parents.

Isn't Christmas supposed to be about CHRIST? And isn't religious GUILT enough of a motivator for kids to behave? I mean, anybody ever heard of a little ole place called THE FIERY PITS OF HELL?? Hello? You don't need an overpriced elf for this. If your child is misbehaving, can't you just show them a crucifix with Christ nailed to it and say, "Jesus is crying 'cause you're not really trying..."??? Or if your kid is REALLY naughty, you could up the ante a little: "Jesus is dead because of YOUUUUUUU!!!!" 

Since the creator of this bullshit product is probably swimming in a drifting pool of finely powdered cocaine every night, he/she might want to think about how to continue to support the lifestyle they have undoubtedly become accustomed to. In the spirit of the chia pet, in which the creators “spun off” several different versions of the same lame piece of crap, the inventor of the Elf on the Shelf may want to consider several other hot money-makers:


Demon on Your Dresser
Demon on Your Dresser! If you take more than five minutes to select an outfit, the
Demon on Your Dresser will report you to Satan and you'll be dragged to the
fiery pits of Hell! Making mornings super fun!


Gargoyle in the Garage
Gargoyle in the Garage! Have problems with your kid dawdling on the way to the car? Not anymore!
Any children who don't hop-to will be shredded by the gargoyle's razor-sharp talons! Makes a lovely gift!



Chupacabra on the Candelabra

Bad table manners are a thing of the past! Just place the Chupacabra on the Candelabra 
on your dining table! This fun addition to meal times motivates kids to place their napkins 
on their laps and keep their elbows off the table for fear of having their eyeballs impaled 
by the chupacabra's dagger-like fangs! If your kids don't eat their peas, they know their 
helpful friend Chupie will feast on their innards later, picking their entrails clean!  


Supergay Unicorn Man
Super Gay Unicorn Man! Okay, he's not that scary. But if you don't do your homework 
he might pack your hindquarters with 14 inches of pastel torment. 
Nothing like a little supernatural sodomy to motivate the kiddies!


So, thanks to the pansy-ass parents in my daughter's school who wouldn't resist the trend, I had to sit my nine-year old down tonight and explain to her that I wasn't going to allow the three wishes of doom, that having a stalker elf in the house was "Way creepy and gross" and furthermore, "That sounds like something only for really awful, naughty kids and you're a GOOD kid, you don't want some stalker elf spying on YOU, you're already getting great presents." Oh, and I added some junk about Jesus being the reason for the season just for insurance. 




Hey, go read my friend Yvonne's take on the little bastard: www.attractedtoshinythings.blogspot.com

Friday, August 26, 2011

Romancing the SHIT Outta Yous. (Now with Housewife Porn! WAIT, IS THAT THE DOORBELL?)

Hello there, you’re CLEARLY in the wrong place! 

So in the past couple of weeks, I have suddenly gotten on Twitter, started a blog and started reading other peoples’ blogs. Superfun, right?  The blog especially, because the world obviously needs even MORE blogs about poop and dicks. Anyway, the thing is, the time this requires… this time was once taken up by other activities in my life. What activities, you may wonder? Some possibilities...

Charity work: Dirty, sweaty garbage

Charity work: dirty POOR PEOPLES!
Yes, poor person, you are allowed to kiss me now. You're welcome.
(seriously now, LOOK at her body language!! Whatta bitch!)
Charity case: Dirty in a different way. 
Dirty, dirty, dirty. Hello, soldier.

If you guessed “charity work”, well, just HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!  Now, doing lots of really difficult, sweaty work for no money DOES sound like a rush. And SOMEBODY needs to get LiLo to the methadone clinic and to her naked banjo lessons. But my free time was actually being used… to read romance novels.

No, really. I KNOW.  So sue me.  But the good news is, I didn’t read the squirrelly-ass dipshit ones with the heaving bosoms and such… I read HOUSEWIFE PORN. This is stuff so dirty, they have to make the book covers RED because the content is EN FUEGO. Observe:

Goes down easy, indeed!

Now, sometimes the dialogue is sexy and titillating and most EXCELLENT. Like:

Suddenly, she was back against the concrete wall, his hands pushing up the skirt of her dress to her waist then hitching one of her knees over his hip. Both of his hands dropped to her backside, lifting her higher, until the broad tip of his rigid shaft found her entrance, teasing her with the promise of filling her completely."
(excerpt from "Not Another Blind Date..." by Janelle Denison, Jo Leigh and Leslie Kelly. YER WELCOME)



But sometimes it is groaningly (not in a good way) bad, like:

Like a match rasping across the phosphorus strip, he felt an explosive heat, sharp, bright and hot. Hell, he felt like a star shooting across the sky above them."
(you don't really need to know who wrote this corny shit, amiright?)


Do I need that kinda embellishment in my housewife porn? No, no I do not. 

I like to read the REALLY bad dialogue out loud to my husband. Sometimes I’m all, *SIGH* “She just said  'I'd like one, as well’ in the dialog. Like ANYBODY talks like that. Especially when they are tied to a tree.” Or like this one, which was written from a man’s perspective: 

“…and I busted another nut.” . 

I AM NOT KIDDING. That is actual dialog. Not only did he “bust a nut” ya know, the first one… sooooo sexy, right?  But immediately busting ANOTHER one… wow. Just wow.  To that one, my husband replied, “That would never happen. I just want you to know, that could never happen.” He doesn’t really ever get judgy about how bad this crap is though, because he knows that the GOOD trashy romance novels help to preheat the oven he’s hoping to get flambĂ©ed in later.

There was another one where a woman is being stalked and she’s going to her car in the parking garage. She gets SHOT in the upper arm.  A handsome cop is trying to help her, he throws himself on top of her to protect her while he’s waving his gun around. No, his actual gun. As he’s lying on top of her, he shifts a couple of times and SHE HAS AN ORGASM.  On the greasy parking garage floor, just after having been shot.  Did I mention, she was JUST SHOT. Yeah, I know I repeated that but it bears repeating because COME ON, NOW, PEOPLE.

Listen here, you. I could have champagne, roses, chocolate covered strawberries, soft music, a bubble bath, sensual fragrant body oils rubbed into me, masterful foreplay and creative intercourse and right in the middle, if I accidentally get a picture in my mind at random for a NANOSECOND and thereby think, “Why in the hell are rhinos that awful rhino-color?”, then I’ve just undone 20+ minutes of very careful orgasm-set-up by my very patient husband. Then I have to yell “DO OVER” or “SHIT! The fucking rhinos AGAIN!” and start from scratch. So adding a GUNSHOT WOUND into the mix?? Nuh-uh. Sorry, not buying it.

Now, I realize they are not writing true-life stuff, it's SUPPOSED to be fantasy, I get that. That's why the characters are always young and juicy, not dried up ole husks like the readers. Cuz nobody wants to read:

"She was slumped in her recliner, writing her blog, burping and picking her nose occasionally and digging at a prickly chin hair. She tried grasping it between her thumbnail and middle fingernail, but couldn't get a good grip. Unfortunately, she was far too lazy to get up and go get tweezers. He saw her from across the room. He was overcome with lust for obvious reasons. He came up behind her and started caressing her neck. She said, 'What the hell are you doing, are you HIGH? Get OFF me!' and swatted his jackass hand away. He said, 'My darling, I MUST have you.' She said, 'I have dishes to do, a crappy dinner to make and more dishes to do.' He said, 'But... I've been manscaping...', to which she responded, 'Fuck off. I have shit to do -- your stupid socks aren't going to wash themselves.' So he slunk off to the basement to look at porn."

Quick aside: I have only just noticed that Microsoft Word does not flag swear words, as long as you spell them correctly. Even “motherfucker” and “cocksucker”! WTG, Microsoft!  May want to add the following though, as you have clearly left some out: “turd” (self-explanatory); “twatty”( as in, “Priscilla was acting rather twatty today.”) and assjacking cockslapper (self-explanatory).

Now then. I have read about 1,000 of these shitty awesome books at this point, I am what you might call a connoisseur of smut. In fact, I used to have a mutherf’ing SUBSCRIPTION to the Harlequin Blaze line of books. Ya know why I canceled it? BECAUSE WALMART WOULD HAVE THE BOOKS ON THE SHELF SEVERAL DAYS EARLIER THAN I WOULD RECEIVE THE BOOKS IN THE MAIL. That’s right, I could. Not. Wait. It would PISS MY SHIT RIGHT OFF to have to walk past the row of shiny new smut, knowing my books had not arrived yet. "Maybe tomorrow..." I'd say to myself, encouragingly. 

BUT… now I’m totally not really reading that shit anymore. Except when I’m stuck on the toilet with a log jam (also known as “battleshits”, which is a word that is ALSO not recognized by Microsoft Word *sigh*) or taking some quality time in there with a real bowl-winder, cuz that’s the perfect time to read some SHIT.  


SPEAKING OF POOP!

According to www.crazyamigo.com, some fun activities to pass the time while you are pooping in a public bathroom:

>Listen to other people poop and laugh quietly
>Laugh at the sounds your own ass is making
>Pay bills

Now, that’s some advice I can get behind! Oh! Hahahaha, see what I did there?!?


...................BACK TO REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING.....................


So anyhoo, all the Tweeting, writing and blog-reading could potentially cut into the time spent twatting, wanking and banging. On the plus side, most of the people I follow on Twitter have dirty minds, but on the minus side, they are usually not being sexy about it. Plus how much arousal can be generated by a 140 character one-liner??

I know that for men, it’s easy. If you’re a guy, somebody says “bewbs” in a tweet and before you know it, you’re paddling the trout with abandon. But it’s generally not that easy for most women. I can only speak from my own experience but for me, masturbation often goes like this: “Oh, yeah, mmm, self, you are smokin’ hot. Yeah, just like that. IS THAT THE DOORBELL? Ok, no, yeah, ooooh… GOD THOSE BIRDS ARE ANNOYING! Wait, GOD! DON’T THINK ABOUT GOD!  Ok,OOHHH, yeah, mmmm, like that… HOW MUCH TIME UNTIL THE SCHOOL BUS GETS HERE AND DROPS OFF THE CHILD?? CHILD! DON’T THINK ABOUT THE CHILD! YUCK!! AHHHH!! Ok… here we go, back on track…oooh, mmmm, BETTER HURRY UP…”


...you get the picture. *sigh*

For your reading pleasure, fun names for masturbation:


>Squeeze the cheese
>Shake hands with the unemployed
>Stroke the one-eyed burping gecko


Now, get to work slapping the ham, girls! But first, you might want to get some earplugs! And a lobotomy.