Okay so these were from last week but it seems that I never actually put it to publish. I apparently did not. I’m smert….wait what? So these have the feel of being a bit outdated….oh well…they still work and are what I feel…besides this week would’ve just been me posting about how the owner is selling the store and that sucks and gonna need to find a job…nobody wants to hear that right?
Here is a fabby little clicky click if you’d like to read more Post its!
And here is a link to a site where you can make your own
Now onward to mine:
You were a great Basketball player but man does your analysis suck. You are rarely funny and often just say the same thing over and over. Don’t get me started on how painful your SNL was. I hate your Taco Bell commercial more than I hate your commentary.
I may have been the only but who cares. I didn’t care who won or what they wore either.
You suck. No really you do. I mean rarely do I get a weekend day off let alone two straight days off to spend with the wifey. Thanks for nothing.
Seriously. I mean come on. 3 poems in two days and not one is worthy of saving.
William Shatner is awesome for so many reasons I can’t even keep track of them. Last night he was the guest host of Monday Night Raw and was hysterical!
It may be a bit cliché but you really changed how I saw writing and kind of life. I carried Catcher in the Rye around in my bag all through High School. Hell half the time I carry it around now. I’ve read the book at least 16 times.
You truly were one of the greatest of all times. Rest in Peace and thank you for all you gave. Jack Brisco 1941-2010
Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s! So if my Too Much Info doesn’t slake your thirst for the gross click on over to LiLu’s and read them all.
I know you all are eagerly awaiting my TMI Thursday post but first a little update. Plus I don’t know how eager people are to read my TMI posts after the snot/poo wiping one. I’ve been sick again as of late. This has really caused me to slack on lots of things—especially this place. Now dear faithful readersit began to bother me that I was too sick and etc to blog but each and every day I got my coughing ass up and over to work. Why? Mostly it was the money. I mean I thought to myself fuck that they cut my hours I’m not going to help them cut them some more. Then there was the fact that I can’t help but feel bad when I do. Dam you responsibility. I don’t know if this is the cough or not. At this point it still just seems like a bad cold but then the cough just keeps going after one of those. I don’t know. I’m hoping it’s not. 3 months of coughing with no help from medicine or doctors is not what I consider fun. Anycoughy on to the TMI which is lucky for you brought to you by me being sick.
So it started harmless enough with a bit of a sore throat and then quickly progressed into a cough and a nose so stuffed it felt as if it would explode. You know sending a thick spray of snot everywhere. Sort of like a dirty bomb made up of brown, yellow, greenish goo instead of chemicals? So I resorted to medicine but nothing has really worked. I took to sleeping on the couch to spare the wife. The first night and day were spent really just sitting up in a daze coughing and blowing my nose. I really could not sleep at all. I did manage to fall asleep a couple times. Each time I would eventually wake up finding myself with one arm over my head (sitting up) 3000 pillows behind me and one foot on the coffee table. As this nastiness progressed the colors of snot and whatever was in my chest changed (as you’d probably expect) but they were coming up in an out of control fashion. It seemed as if I couldn’t go 1 minute without having to blow my nose. To make matters worse with every cough (which was way too often) stuff would come up. The cargo imported from the ports of my chest and nose was shipped in dark brown, blackish green and often blood colored boxes. As the days continued it became necessary on a consistent basis to spit up said nasty colored gems into Kleenex. Surprisingly the wifey did not care or want to see any of the colors making their rounds through my chest and onto the soft tissue tarmac.
Okay it’s been established that when coughing I’d spit up something onto a Kleenex. Not fun but you know I didn’t want to do it either. So there! Stop judging me! Sorry. This led to many a late night mistake of grabbing the spit up tissues for nose blowing. Now two different things happened when grabbing these. 1. The goo from my chest had hardened into stalagmites that I crushed onto my nose or 2. The big lump of dark brown, bloodishly green nast got lathered all over my nose as I blew more nasty onto the tissue. So after making this mistake more times than I will actually admit to (F I guess I just did admit to it.) I made an executive decision. There was a glass that I had filled with water to soothe my throat but had long since gone unrefueled. So I took it and began spitting the x filesy goop into it. Soon it began to fill and fill. At some point I tossed it and cleaned it out and brought it back to the couch (home base for 4 days) and periodically coughed the stuff up into it again. It became a soupy like substance (in the cup not what I spat out) and well I took pictures for you. Enjoy:
Here is the goo cup:
And here is one of the bloody looking spit up tissues:
Okay so I only posted one picture because well the other ones were quite gross and I felt bad for you all. I know what you are thinking. When will he just get back to telling us about blow jobs?
So I skipped Post it note Tuesday (oh man I think I may need to refer to it as PINT from here on out!) Yeah I skipped it because I wrote about a gajillion of them the day before and then lost the sheet of paper I wrote them on. Okay it was really just like 5 of them but they were good. I think. Anypint I didn’t want to rush like 6 day of so I did a little skipola. All that being said it’s time once again. Here I go again on my own. Walking down the only road I’ve ever known. Like a drifter I was born to walk alone……what? Yeah I did just break out a White Snake reference for no real reason at all. I mean seriously it had nothing to do with the PINTS. Just read em if ya like.
Posted in Uncategorized on January 21, 2010 by ClevelandPoet
Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!
If there is one thing I learned from last week’s TMI Thursday is that I’m pretty disgusting. I think the consensus was that post was the grossest one yet. I was proud to say that I got several people telling me it made them gag. Yeah! You think I can stick that on my resume? I suppose the other thing it taught me was to wait to blow my nose till I’ve wiped and flushed. I’ve decided to give you all a break from the really gross. I’m going to go with more of the funny gross, or at least only mildly gross. A few TMI Thursday posts ago I brought you the story of eaty Mcskin Skin. This one is about him again.
He’s always been about the food. There are some occasions when the store decides to reward (ha!) the employees or just simply leave the remains of the managers “sampling” new products. Seth (here we go with the name change again) couldn’t be happier on these days but then he’d be happy if you leave your last piece of a donut on the break room table when you go back to work.
Or on the top of the rest of the trash in the trash can.
Or just in the trash can.
Yes Roger (Bam name change!) loves him some food and it appears the older the better. Anygarbage this is more than just a review of Adam and his love of garbage food but more like a review of some recent events that occurred with Jake. You’ll find it all in the
HURT LOCKER
Oops I mean the Food Locker.
So for Christmas our lovely store bought us some pizza. This is a yearly attempt to keep morale and joy and all that jazz (yeah jazz hands!) up. Nothing helps improve morale than 15 boxes of pizza. Although I’ll wager that instead of the pepperoni sausage combo pie the employees would take the hours they lost instead. That is for another day. Ralphie though would probably not. He stood up there for about 7 minutes after he was done for the day eating pizza, and stocking up on it too. Three days later he comes out of the locker area carrying a box of pizza. He was just a whistling and chewing on some 3 day old pizza. When some suggested to him that it may be time to toss the pie he broke into Godfather mode and mumbled something about making him sleep with the fishes if he touched it. He then turned to me and said “Can you believe this guy you tell him what happens when you mess with the family” To which I replied what anyone would “we’ll turn him into cheese.”
What?
I have no clue either. Bobby thought it made sense though because he repeated it over and over again like I had said “His name is Robert Paulson.” Bam Fight Club reset bitches! So anybubble I should get on to the food locker title. Steve-o has a locker. He doesn’t have a lock on said locker but he has a locker nonetheless. Here are the contents:
A tube of toothpaste.
A toothbrush
A ziplock bag of carrots. (They’ve been in there for about a week) Oh and did I mention they were being eaten by another coworker before they found their way into the locker.
A few appear to be browning.
A donut. Not on a plate or a napkin. Nope just sitting on the locker floor.
A piece of fried chicken, also not on anything.
Some mostly chewed fries in a broken Styrofoam container.
A Pepsi can.
What appeared to be a Twix bar at some point in its life?
So Jeffrey here is somewhat entertaining. He’ll rant and say relatively funny nonsensical things. I will say as of late he’s been a little too touchy. He’ll put his arm around me when he wants to tell me who is gonna have to sleep with the fishes. Most departments love the fact that he offers to take out all the trash. Now they may give them a little reward here and there but I think they don’t realize the real reason he does it. No Petey doesn’t trudge out in the cold and snow with the trash because he’s very altruistic. It’s because it’s a free fracking Buffet for him. The last time he took the trash out and I happened to be in the back room when he returned was by far the grossest. He came back with a real hop in his step. He has a bag in his hand that appears to be dripping and have something black on.
Joe/Seth/Pete/Roger: Heyyyy Jimi. I’m running the show here.
Me: Making people cheese?
Bob/Pat/John: Cheese and fishes and bricks. That’s how we do it here.
(He pulls out of a hole in the bag a broken donut and begins to eat it)
Sal/Reggie/Al: Lookie what I found Jimi!
Me: Oh good for uhm you.
Paul/George/Willie: Yeah.
He’s now close enough for me to see a piece of what appears to be old collard greens hanging on the donut. Then he stuffed in his mouth and walked off saying something about Sicilian family life and fishes and being the man.
This story caught my eye and my heart when I first read it. (Yeah finally I’m getting behind something not Star Wars related or posting about BJ or poop.) I caught wind of this interwebby awesomeness late in the game and tried to scribble a poem together of what it meant to me (or better what it made me feel) The problem with that (for anyone who reads my poetry) is that I take slightly off the edge and silly ways to speak seriously. Also most of em involve sex. I scrapped the horrible poem (as I have about 10 minutes to get to the bus) and was going to write a really silly intro. Sorry but this little paragraph will have to do. I will say I love most of you.
Read on:
“The quandry: We feel terrible. Just horrible. And oh so helpless… if only there was something we could DO for them. The answer: Ummmm. Did you forget that WE ARE THE INTERNET?!?!!??! And also, Yes We Can!!! The result: Brandy and your Hot Awesome Dude… this one’s for you.
Love, The Internet.”
Our Plea
Our friend Brandy is a brilliant writer, a wonderful teacher, and a generous friend. And she is in love with a man who has just been diagnosed with multiple myeloma.
We are raising money for the Multiple Myeloma Research Fund in his name. For the price of a cinnamon dolce latte, half-caf, hold the whip, you can be part of an effort to cure a disease that affects approximately 750,000 people worldwide.
http://www.loveharder.org
Every dollar brings us a dollar closer to a cure. And every donation brings a sliver of hope to a girl who needs all the hope she can get.
What You Can Do
* Give. Be part of a worldwide effort to cure a disease that affects approximately 750,000 people worldwide. Every dollar helps.
* Pass it on. Forward this story to five people. Share this blog post. Become our fan on Facebook.
* Love harder. Life is short, love is unbending, and no one knows what could happen next. Tell someone you love them today.
Where Your Money Goes
* The American Institute of Philanthropy recently named The Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation one of the best organizations to give to in terms of their accountability and use of resources.
* By working closely with researchers, clinicians and partners in the biotech and pharmaceutical industry, the MMRF has helped bring multiple myeloma patients four new treatments that are extending lives around the globe.
* The MMRF has advanced twenty Phase I and Phase II clinical trials. They need your support to advance these clinical research programs and accelerate the development of better, more effective treatments.
* The MMRF’s Multiple Myeloma Genomics Initiative recently became the first to sequence the multiple myeloma whole genome in its entirety.
* A whopping 98% of your donation to the MMRF will be used immediately to support high-priority multiple myeloma research.
* With diminishing funding for early stage drug development and the next myeloma treatments not expected to be approved until 2011, the MMRF desperately needs your help.
Here is Brandy’s story:
Brandy’s Story
My name is Brandy. And I have a blog.
And a plea.
I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach, and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds.
Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog– as personal as the dude that I adore. But I need your help. And it involves my dude.
He’s a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He’s the guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job.
He’s the guy who sent flowers to me at school– dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He’s a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred.
He’s made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He’s listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.
I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making– but this is life. Right now. And I’m throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you.
This isn’t a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It’s just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next.
Thank you for reading this, and if you haven’t already? Please tell someone you love them today.
Holy crap is it Thursday again? Really? This week has been such a blur while at the same time taking forever. Wait does that make sense? No? Okay moving on. I’ve spent the week staying up late watching the Cavaliers west coast trip and by day honing my ninja like avoid my boss skills. You don’t care about any of this and I don’t know why I’m prolonging it. It is TMI Thursday! You know the drill.
Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!
Despite the popularity and my ability to suck you in with blowjob stories (Zing!) this one will not be one of those. I stole the suck you in line from Carissa by the way. The latest and greatest was a guest post for Mel over at Pursuit of your boyfriend. Now on to the sexless TMI post.
This actually took place a couple weeks ago after a fun time at the Cavs game with the rizza and the pole smoker. Afterwards the three of us headed over to Cleats. I of course made the classic mistake of giving the wife my debit card. So I had no cash or card on me, but as true friends the rizza and the pole smoker came to the rescue.
Side note I probably should post the story of why I call him the pole smoker. I think I’ll do that tomorrow. Hahaha Cliff Hanger on you bitches. I’m like 24 all up in this….
What? Nobody cares actually. Fair enough.
Anybodiddly we got our drink on. There were three beers a shot and some whiskey before we were done. Not too much but I had some whiskey when we got home too and then proceeded to stay up way late even though I had to go to work the next day. Well a couple hours of some sleep and the cat woke me up. My sinuses were killing me and my nose was running like it thought it was Usain Bolt. Albeit a slow stuck on my face Usain Bolt but yeah you get the point. I trudge off to the bathroom to blow it and to drain little jimi. As I’m sitting there I notice the need to drop the kids off at the pool if I can quote Jessica Simpson.
What’s that I can’t? Damn.
So I sit down and resist the urge to recreate the boat scene from Jaws (read: Sing show me the way to go home.) As I sleepily let the cargo bay doors open and release the refuse into space I keep blowing my nose. This seems as if it’ll never stop. I reach for some toilet paper and give one final blow. It was a gem of snot that came out. Now two thoughts occurred at the same time at this point. One: It be time to wipe. Two: Throw this toilet paper away. Now these thoughts did not fight it out for which would occur first. Oh no they compromised. I stood and did the normally natural thing of wiping. This of course proceeded to do two things. One: smear the gem of snot all over one butt cheek and two: well a snot laden helping of toilet paper wasn’t really any match for the brown demon. So yes it sort of disintegrated and spread a mixture of poo and snot on to my hand. There was a small slow churning of brain waves before I realized what happened. After finishing the job (sans snot rag) and washing my hands up I went to bed. I assured myself I would keep this from the wife and then promptly of course post it here.
Click that up there to go see some other cool post it note Tuesdays And here is a link to a site where you can make your own. That out of the way here we go kiddies:
A while back a magazine I submitted some poetry to sent me a rejection notice. Okay I know those but this one was a “dear submitter” that went on to try to get me to subscribe to them for a lot of money. Well if that wasn’t bad enough they’ve since sent me another plea to subscribe!
The Devil Comes to Dinner is the play I’ve been working on for quite a while. It’s the 2nd play involving the Devil. The first was A Devil of a Time and the 3rd will be The Devil and Princess Leia. None of them are related.
Probably the hardest part. Someone want to come over and type it up for a payment of whiskey and hugs?
This is the next play I’m working on. It isn’t actually called Percy T. Whale (or maybe it is.) It is loosely about a young man who is struggling in life seeks the help of his childhood imaginary friend (a whale named Percy T. Whale!)
My hair is finally long again. I’m rather bored with the color but can’t do anything fun anymore. Bah!
Yoga For Regular Guys is a yoga workout made by former professional wrestler Diamond Dallas Page.
Bastards were trying to take away Fox Soccer Channel away and it would’ve ended badly if they had.
So I’ve been pretty good at snapping the pictures but not so much at the posting of them.
Will post them all eventually. This was one I snapped Saturday Night at the Grog Shop. It’s a rather odd one and not all that great but I really like it.
Good ole Sam the Snowman. He was sort of creepy in Rudolph and when I saw he had an accident in our apartment I knew I had to take a break from the real snow and show the tragedy.
Aren’t you a lucky bunch of readers? Why is that? You get to read my TMI Thursday guest post I did for the very lovely Mel over at Pursuit of your boyfriend.
Warning to Family it involves things being blown. Those things may be glass ornaments or body parts I won’t specify which, but don’t go if your family! Otherwise clicky clicky!
I’m very happy to do the guest post for her. If you’ve never read her you need to get on that. Start with mine and just keep on going! Anyhizzle,on to this post. I didn’t want to write another TMI Thursday because that would take away from the guest post. I went with a bozo of the week. There’ve been a ton I could use but I’ll go with Gilbert Arenas.
Now a bit of background in case some of you aren’t too sure who he is. Gilbert Arenas is a NBA star for The Washington Wizards. He’s a great scorer and well more than a little quirky. He’s always had the kind of personality that came off as a bit out there but generally harmless. Then he did something pretty stupid but you know in a way just a mistake and nothing really more. He stored his guns in his locker at the Verizon Center.
Okay you know not the smartest move but still not the worst thing. Then he in an apparent tiff with a teammate pulled the guns out. At one point he allegedly left them on a chair next to the teammate’s locker with a “pick one” note. Getting dumber here Gilly my boy. So when authorities caught wind of this there was gonna be trouble. The NBA also has a policy about guns in arenas. Uh oh! The NBA stayed out of it letting the police handle it first, but then good ole shoot em up Arenas went all bozo on us. His dealings with the media made it apparent that he thought it was all a joke. Then he and his teammates pulled this during intros:
He used finger guns to shoot his teammates up during the Intros of the Wizards Vs Philadelphia game two nights ago. The next day he was suspended indefinitely by the league. He sort of forced their hand in the situation. So Gilbert Arenas gets the Bozo of the Week award (Don’t shoot me!)
