the one with shoes

November 30, 2010

So there was that one time I was perusing the internets

(did you know they have that on computers now?)

and came across this:

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Yep. Facebook and twitter shoes from Adidas. Say whaaaaat?

Well say it I’ll wait. No really say it!

I’ll take your word that you said it. Now as ridiculous as the shoes are they are kind of sweet. Anyshoes it got me thinking what would be more entertaining? What other web themed shoes could there be? So I came up with some stuff.

(Yeah you got to deal with my horrid paint shop stuff. The fact that it is so horribly done is the best part. I know it looks like a blind epileptic angry chicken did it. All for you people.)

First up: The Youporn.com shoe.

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and then the 2 girls 1 cup shoe:

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TMI Thursday: Brownaconda Attacks

November 18, 2010

I’m weird. This is something the wife tells me all the time. People’s eyes tell me this all the time too, but my doctor said I should stop saying stuff about talking eyes.

(I’ll be here all week.)

Oh look the parenthesis are back. I don’t know why that started. I don’t know when either so don’t expect an answer or a link.

(Mostly too lazy)
(Shut up)

Whatever. You stopped reading after the title I’m sure. Now I’ve developed a fun (depending on who you ask) habit of naming my pooping ventures. Sometimes I announce the names to my wife as I head into the bathroom. Sometimes it doesn’t get a name until after the fact. This is usually based on amount, size, difficulty and or color. Oh and generally (read always) these excursions are named for some movie. For example:

Off to film The Hunt for the Brown October.
I just got done shooting Pooptanic.
Just got off the set of Brownaconda.
Indiana Jones and the temple of Poo.

The best instance had to have happened in Florida. After filming I come into the bedroom where kat and Pelvic Joann are and say:

Me (very seriously): “Have you seen Alec Baldwin?”
(Now after some initial ignoring I finally get a response)
Me: Yeah just finished shooting the sequel to Hunt for the Red October…Hunt for the Brown October.

I don’t do this every single time and I try to mix it up and not use the same one. Carissa—which if you aren’t reading here you should be—has convinced me to create a list. I am and so thank her for that disgusting list when it happens.

Anypooping back to the tmi. This happened late at night (like 2am) so there was no announcing of a shooting schedule. The wife was sweetly tucked away dreaming of sugar plum or murders. More likely she was dreaming of murders and kidnappers but that’s another story. Check one out here. So I went to the bathroom without being able to say some witty movie name.

(Poor jimi)

I’ll spare you the details of the actual event. I will say that there was quite a lot of it in the bowl afterwards. Now above the toilet on a rack sit her collection of duckies. You know the little rubber duckies? They have different versions. You know like punk rock duck, bad girl duck, Hitler duck,devil duck, irish duck, Jean Bonet Ramsey duck.

(Horrible jokes jimi)

So they’re up there. I finish my business and wipe and all that. As I finish I happen to put my hand up there. I knock poor Chicago duckie off balance and he falls. I like Spider-Man grab out for it. I catch it but the Green Goblin comes along and distracts me and Chicago duckie falls out of my hand. I almost catch it again but instead as it falls out into the air leaps the fabled Brownaconda and snags it into his jaws.
Sorta like this:

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Yes we apparently pee and poop into a misshapen bucket. We classy like that. It was horrible how angry it sounded as it grabbed poor poor Chicago duck. It fell pretty much directly into the poop and sunk in too.

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So I don’t know if it was because it was late, I was sleepy or the trauma of the brownaconda attack but I without hesitation reached right into the misshapen bucket the toilet. You know brownaconda and all. I grabbed Chicago duckie (sunk in a bit more as I did) and it I swear made a sort of plop-pop sounds as it pulled free. I managed to not get anything on my hand. I’m still not sure how because there was a ton in the bowl and poor Chicago duckie was covered in it. I tossed it into the shower and turned it on. After it was all gone I dried the poor fellow off and replaced him. I thought about not telling her about it but I did first thing the next morning. For 2 reasons I knew I’d use it on here and I wanted to gross her out. So I told her about the spin off to Anaconda.

Brownaconda: Dead Duck

I of course embellished some of the details of the story for her. I may or may not have said something about
pieces of food sticking to her duckie.
You’re welcome.


Excuse me maam: Virginia Style

November 9, 2010

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Yep. It already happened again. This time it took place in the lovely mountains of Virginia. The Three Shillelaghs were up there on our traditional trek. The last time we were up there a brewery was being built. This year it had been up and running for a while.

Everywhere I go I like to try a local beer. So we immediately made plans to head up to The Devil’s Backbone Brewery and Restaurant. After a beautiful and relaxing morning we headed out. We stopped at an awesome place named Graves where I chased down that elusive Choco Taco! Yeah!

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We headed up the mountain—Blue Ridge Parkway. This is also a tradition. We do enjoy our traditions, you may have noticed. Anyhoo we get up there and park. There be some optimal picture taking area. The area is beautiful and pics to come—maybe.

Oh come now (That’s what she said!) stop your whining this is another kind of post.

The day was nice. The sky bright blue and had a few puffy white cotton balls floating around in it. It wasn’t too chilly down below (TWSS!) but up on the mountain it was nippy. We enjoyed the view and snapped pictures before heading back down

Devils Backbone had a pretty full parking lot. The restaurant was no different. The sun was slowly creeping down as was the temp. There was an option given to us. Wait for who knows how long to sit inside or have dinner on the patio. It was a nice patio and a nice view too.

It was cold though. The patio did have heat. It consisted of a very lovely fireplace, two hanging heaters and then two moveable heaters. They also offered blankets. The wifey enjoyed the fireplace because she was right next to it. I was to the side/behind of it and Pelvic Joann was across the table of it. The two hanging heaters only helped the tables they were above. Those were the prime seats. The moveable heaters were not on.

In their fairness we didn’t ask about why. Eventually (as we neared the end of dinner) one was turned on and brought over to us. I sat with my hoodie on and up. The ladies took advantage of the blankets.
They were the cause of the post. I mean the blankets not the ladies. Dinner consisted of delicious meatloaf (kat), coffee braised steak (me) and the bone smoker platter (hahaha) for Pelvy. They had bread pudding for dessert.

During the meal some woman sat at the prime table in front of the fireplace AND under a heater. They eventually left and were replaced by some raucous men probably in their 50’s. I made eye contact (my face and beard clearly showing) several times. They were fans of really bad jokes and ribbing one another with even worse jokes.

As we left the ladies left the blankets on their chair. One dude tried to stop them I think. I vaguely remember hearing “hey” as I made it to their table. My front was facing them before turning my back to scoot between their table and the fireplace. My hoodie still up and my hair tucked into it. I get this tug on my arm.

“Miss. I think you ladies left some…oh never mind.”

I turned to face him at this point. Now either he noticed the blankets weren’t ours or that I had a beard and was clearly not a lady. I kept going and he turned back to his table of mid life crisesers.


Excuse me maam: Game time

November 1, 2010

First go check out the latest Monday’s Maniac over at The B Movie Brigade.

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Yep. I get called “miss”, “maam” or “her/she” so often that I’ve turned it into a reoccurring segment here. Hooray for easy peasy posts to bore you with. Because if jimi is one thing she’s lazy

Damn. I mean he. Crap. Moving on.

The Cheap Seats is littered with posts about being called a girl. Sift through em if you like.
No? Yeah I feel ya, I was too lazy to get em for you too. Oh well. Hooray lazy. What was the point of this again? I mean other than me wanting to make a stick figure have my head on it.

(Horribly done by the way) Oh there he goes with the parenthesis again. What are those suppose to be an aside or something?

Notice the prominent beard?

Don’t worry nobody else does either. The Rizza, the pole smoker and yours truly had just walked into the crowded lobby area of the Q. She (The Rizza) went off to the “you have a purse so need to be checked out line. We being men went to the quick lanes.

A side note: The Q (Quicken Loans Arena—where the Cavs, Monsters and Gladiators play) and its staff appear to enjoy holding me up. Almost every single time (or actually whenever I attend with the Rizza) they’ve found another reason to slow me down. The pens in my pocket, my belt buckle, a notebook and etc etc.

This night was no different. In terms of holding us up I mean. I walked self assuredly (but with a manly brisk walk!) to the ticket scanner.

“Good evening my dear.” Ticket in one hand pointed at the scanner and keys in my other hand for the security to see as I pass through the detector. I left all pens and belt buckles at home. Success!

Scan.
Blrrrrrp.
Scan.
Blrrrp.
“Hmm.” She pulls the ticket into her hand. Scan.
Blrrrrp.
Scan some more.

“I knew I should have brought my personal ticket scanner.” Flash my hairy smile. Her face does not brighten however. “Damnit Jimi did you flash the grimace again instead of the smile?” I thought as she pointed over to the side.

“I’m going to need you to stand off to the side over there sir.” And then she was already on to the next customer.

Soon a squirrely looking guy walked over to her and she talked to him and pointed over at me. “Could you see him please sir.”

“For you anything.” I walked over. He smiled. I smiled (perhaps grimaced?) and the dance began. He took the ticket. He used his big boss ticket scanning scanner and of course our old buddy

Blrrrrp.

Yeah, so he looked at the ticket some more. He scanned it again. Nothing but blrrrp. He looked up into my face and presumably my hypnotizing dark brown eyes. He chuckled.

“HMMM.” A stronger version of their go to answer. He read the ticket and then ripped the bottom part of and handed it back to me.

“Well okay that was fun.”

He looked up at me from the scanner and then tapped “Florence” which is probably not her name but I don’t really care.

“Okay you can go on and let her through now. She’s good to go.”

I tugged my beard once. I tugged a second time. He stood there. She stood there. “Well thank you Flo.” I said as I passed through her line one last time.


The one with hipsters

September 22, 2010

This is a review of the Best Coast show.
I promise. Sort of.

Well you’ve probably read me enough to know what the case is. This is a review of the Clovers/Male Bonding/Best Coast show that took place at the Grog Shop last night.

Technically.

I was there. I will review it but really this is a show that will be discussed in terms of the things (read conversations) I heard. There are no pictures except for poorly drawn ones that I probably won’t post. Actually I lie there is this:

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The only picture I took last night. It is of Admiral Ackbar with Stiller #2. After the show sitting at the bar I pulled him out (and the Admiral Ackbar too—Heyooo!) and stood him on the bar. John K who enjoyed the sentiment made the “It’s a trap!” cup soon after.

I’m getting way ahead of myself.

Like that is the end of the night and I haven’t even discussed the beginning.

You know the sex that took place beforehand. I’m just kidding.

Or am I? No really I am

Or—I know I know shut up and get on with it before you all leave.

Hello?

Anylamejoke before the night could begin we had to move the car from where it was. As we walked over to it a lady in an overalls shorts combo thing stopped us.

Lady: I’m gonna keep it real. I just got out of the Cleveland Heights jail cell. I just want a few bucks so I can get a beer and a cigarette. I’m just keeping it real you know what I’m saying.

The wife gave her a buck. I think.

On our way to the Grog Shop this happened:
Girl 1: “Remember the time we stole that wheelchair?”
Girl 2: “Yeah that was when we were stalking Dennis Kucinich”

We met Pelvic Joann out front and before we could get an old black dude said “Hey how you doing?’

Old black dude: Can I sing something for you?
Me: I dunno can you? (I’m such a dick.)
Wife: No. (The whole time she never looked up from twitter on her phone.)

He proceeds to give a mumbled low (if not somewhat creative) rap about Halloween. We headed in and there were a few minutes before the first band (Clovers) was to take the stage. As the lovely ladies I was with ordered the drinks I listened to the crowd.

A digression: I never saw so many people holding PBRs before. It was like every other person had one. Also someone was drinking wine at the grog shop? Really?

Apparently I should have worn v neck whit tee’s and skinny jeans. This conversation actually took place.

Guy in trucker hat: Dude. What is this band again?
Hipster in skinny jeans: Best Coast.
Trucker hat: What kind of music?
Skinny jeans: Hipster rock/pop.
Trucker hat: What the fuck is hipster rock.
Skinny jeans: A normal rock or pop show but you know by hipsters.
Trucker hat: Why do I hang out with you?

Now normally I may have sympathized with the trucker hat dude except it was a Budweiser trucker hat and he kept lifting up his shirt (you know “nonchalantly”) when chicks passed. Oh and he tried this line on a chick who was trying to snap a pic of her friend and herself: “You’re too pretty for a picture like that. You need someone who can capture that beauty.”

Anylameguy Clovers had a long set for an opening act at the grog. They weren’t too bad either. They had some catchy stuff but nothing that stood out too much. Number one problem with them was never said one word to the audience—other than “thank you”—at the end.

The next band Male Bonding was billed as a punk band but really did not come off as all that punk. I kid you not skinny jeans also at one point called them “Hipster Punk.” I left his area then. They too were not bad but not really memorable either. They tried a little more stage presence but couldn’t muster much.

The crowd surged for Best Coast. They played their known stuff and mixed in other (not as good—too harsh?) pieces too. The show was fast paced and hustled along. This was also because of a lack of interaction and connection, other than an awkward bit about her cat that has seizures. Best Coast came off a little heavier than what I had heard. I dug that.

I had no real connection to the band (other than liking what I had heard prior) and chose to not fight the crowd and stayed back. I scribbled some poetry in my book while letting the music and words float to me.

A strange but cute (I love you wifey!) blonde chick in an odd dress asked if I wanted to dance. When I politely declined she offered me some water. I don’t get it either. The whole time this was happening on twitter:

@Clevelandpoet (me duh!): @grogbrit now if I’m at the @grog_shop shouldn’t you be? If only for the fact that I am.

And eventually her hilarious response:

@grogbrit: @kittenkaboom @clevelandpoet – god, how do i explain? spastic girl running around, blue sweater, jeans, little heels? write that on my grave about 14 hours ago via web

Now unbeknownst to me (I couldn’t get my twitter to work—that sounds bad) I was actually chilling right next to the lovely Brittany for most of Best Coast. After the show we got her replies and eventually asked John K to help find her.

Or the wifey scared John K by saying Grogbrit! Then grabbing him by the shoulders and saying it again. He was like “what happened!” and then when explained pointed her out.

I must say the highlight of the evening was finally meeting her. I say this not just because there were free drinks involved but because she was way awesome! There had been several attempts that always fell through. This time was a success and good times.

Hooray for twitter.

Wait what was the point of this post again? Who knows but check out @overheardohio to see the funny shit that is heard daily.


The one where I sell Land Sharks

August 27, 2010

So today I was going to discuss some stuff that was depressing/stressing me, but you don’t want that gloom on your friday do you?

Oh as long as it’s my suffering you are on board?

(Jerks.)

Anybadstart I was going to until something faboo occured. A friend from high school chatted me up on aim. I know who uses aim anymore?

Oh wait I do. God you guys are mean.

(cyber bullying is wrong!)

She immed me and well she has always been slightly awkward to talk with. Well from the get go I pretty much decided I’d get some stress relief out of this convo. So I present to you one of the reasons it probably sucks to know/interact with me in any way.

Friend from school: HI.
Me: Oh my god your caps just broke my eyes!
F: What??
Me: I’m sorry I can’t see what you said because my eyes are broken now. Press 2.
F: Why?
Me: I see you didn’t press 2. I still can’t see though.
F: Why can’t you be serious?
Me: Because I was born a preemie.
F: You were? I didn’t know that.
Me: Oh I sent a memo out from the incubator, check your spam folder.
F: Liar.
Me: Burnt orange crayon.
F: What the heck?
Me: You called me a name so I called you a name.
F: Oh. How have you been?
Me: Still trying to get over the trauma of being a preemie.
F: lol. Sorry.
Me: Sorry doesn’t bring back my lost buddies. I saw em die man.
F: Anyway, I’m finishing up school…
Me: You don’t know you weren’t there.
F: Okay….what about school?
Me: They don’t let preemies in schools.
F: I have on semester left and then I dunno what I do.
Me: You stop going.
F: No. One more semester.
Me: No after you finish you stop going.
F: Yeah and find my job.
Me: Check in the last pair of pants you wore.
F: For?
Me: For your lost job?
F: I didn’t lose it.
Me: I can’t deal with your propaganda.
F: What?
Me: Nothing….
F: What is your job?
Me: Don’t spy on me.
F: What?
Me: You say that a lot.
F: You say weird things.
Me: You say things like a burnt orange crayon.
F: I don’t know what that means.
Me: Preemie slang.
F: Oh.
F: What is your job?
Me: Land Shark.
F: I don’t know what that is….
Me: I sell em.
F: What?
Me: Land Sharks. Door to door.
F: I don’t get it.
Me: No money no sharkie.
F: But what is it?
Me: Of the land variety. You see that Saturday night sketch with the guy in a shark suit?
F: Yeah I think…
Me: Well I sell people guys in sharks suits to go around and you know say “Land Shark”
F: Why?
Me: My preemie officer says I need money.
F: Who?
Me: Top men.
F: o….
Me: *ding dong* “Land shark here”
F: Okay…
Me: No you don’t answer the door he’ll eat you.
F: Who?
Me: Whoever the hell you paid me to give you in a land shark.
F: Oh…they come to the door?
Me: well it won’t work if they don’t. Then you wait till they say “united way collecting money for the needy” or you know some such thing and you open the door.
F: What do they give me?
Me: They eat you.
F: Funny.
Me: I think you lied about seeing it. Pay me for the Land shark now.
F: Maybe I didn’t
Me: No shark if you don’t hand over the bark.
F: What?
Me: “Land shark”
F: Phone…
Me: That’s not my name!
F: On phone.
F: BRB.
Me: My eyeeeeeeeeees. They shattered again!

I hope you enjoy your Friday and weekend bishes!

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The one with Joey Lawrence and peanut butter

August 25, 2010

First head on over to the B Movie Brigade and check out today’s “What a way to die.” It involves Space Marines, Leprechauns and Penis.

Do it! I’ll wait.

There is a mystery afoot! The unexplained has occurred.

Call Mulder
Call Scully

Actually wait just call Scully. I mean rawr. I don’t need that dick Mulder cock blocking me.

I mean uhm…these aren’t the droids you’re looking for.

Yeah X-Files and Star Wars jokes at the same time! I really am the Ron Jeremy of nerd references. I really don’t think there is anywhere this post can go from here. So I might as well just end it right? Some DMX lyrics just popped in my head but then I find that I had one of the line wrongs and it no longer applies for this joke.

Sorry Ruff Ryders.

Now that I’ve lost every single reader I guess I’ll move on to the reason we need Mulder and the very sexy Scully. Well first off I went to bed last night with a post in mind for today but somewhere between then and the morning it flew away. I’m pretty sure it was stolen by Leo and the gang Inception style.

It was either that or the fact that several times I walked into the living room and sillie bean (the wifey) was watching Melissa and Joey. Yep it’s a new show on ABC FAMILY that pairs Melissa Etheridge and Joey Mercury.

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That’s right kiddos as if my brand of humor didn’t already chase readers off I made a reference to a nonexistent television show. A joke using a pop-based folk-rock singer with raspy vocals and an a vague wrestler.

I know how alienate everyone. It my friends is a gift.

Anyvaguejokes the actual show (there is one!) stars Melissa Joan Hart and Joey Lawrence.

(Woah)

I only went the route of the easy woah joke because we all know each of you did it at the mention of his name. Don’t try to deny it. Don’t you do it.

I will turn this blog around right now!

(woah)

What the hell was the point? Oh right the painful show that erased or warped my brain and stole my idea. That isn’t even the real mystery though. Oh no it’s weirder. I woke up and after stumbling into the kitchen to make some coffee went out to get the paper. No the mystery isn’t how come the paper was actually out there for a change.

I then proceeded into the office to sit at my computer and write this up for you. Aren’t I kind?

Well who asked you? Don’t answer that!

As I sat down I noticed something was awry. There was villainy afoot! There was something rotten in Denmark and etc. There was a spoon just sitting next to my computer:

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There are a few possible explanations. As I wait for Scully to come sex this place up investigate I’ll go over them.

First it could have been the little elf that will complete my plays for me helping me become rich and famous. Oh they only help with shoes? Damn.

It could be that I’m crazy and eat peanut butter late at night without remembering it. Perhaps my wife sat down at the desk this morning to use my computer (hands off woman!) and eat peanut butter. She does like to snack on spoonfuls of the stuff.

I think the most plausible explanation is that overnight Joey Lawrence snuck into our apartment and surfed porn on my computer. He is a well known peanut butter fiend. The porn he watched (I imagine he watched Big Trouble in little Vagina) got him so hot that he forgot to put the spoon away. Perhaps he heard something and rushed off leaving the evidence?

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For what it’s worth the wifey thinks she put it down to give me a hug the night before but I don’t remember that. I think she’s covering up for Joey.

Like a conspiracy woah.

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