In the immortal lyrics of the greatest song ever recorded by Brittany Spears…
“Oops, I did it again…”
Now it’s in your head!
Don’t you hate that?
I am sitting here at a Tyson foods plant in Hope, Arkansas waiting to be loaded with 20+ tons of genetically enhanced super chickens to export to the starving children in Russia and Saudi Arabia.
I decided that since I have some time to kill, I would try and think of a subject to write about and post it for your viewing pleasure.
I had no idea what I was going to write about.
As I went over the options in my clinically documented distorted sense of reality, I took my reading/typing glasses and sprayed them with lens cleaner.
Then, after a couple of squirts on my glasses I proceeded to point said spray bottle into my evidently stinky mouth and give the old tonsils and tongue a quick soaking!
The sacrifices I make for y’all……
“You DUMB-ASS, Why did we just do that?!” my mind screamed at me.
“AAcccckkkk!” my mouth screamed for real.
So….I started to spit…… All over my laptop keyboard and screen.
There is nothing nastier than lens cleaner in your pie hole.
Especially if you ARE a dumb-ass…..
Things are always intensified and nastier when you are a dumb-ass.
It doesn’t matter what brain fart occurs; When you’re a dumb-ass you deserve everything that happens to you.
Of course I start cussing myself and calling myself a DA, using language that would make Eskimos fuck, but it won’t change anything.
I’ll do something again….soon.
I now believe that I have DA abnormalities in my DNA.
I have sprayed my mouth TWICE in less than 2 weeks.
Check one of my earlier blogs over the last couple of weeks, I freaking wrote about it!
If I’m lying, I’m dyin’ “
God, that stuff is nasty.
I’m munching on Townhouse crackers trying to kill the taste.
Did you know that when you cross Townhouse crackers with Lens cleaner it reaches a whole other level of “Kaaack!”
I now have linoleum in my face.
Oh, and while I’m raising hell, I might as well broach another complaint. (Y’all know how I tend to ramble sometimes)
Hey…You in the den….Shut it!
Why do we men have so much hair on our backs?
When God made us, I assume it was him, how come he designed our arms too short and bent in a weird way so we can’t shave it?
I mean the top part of the back, across the shoulder blades.
Even when I tried to reach back there and shave, my back looked like a landing strip for drug planes in a jungle.
We can reach our butts….
Does that mean we should shave our tooshies?
It’s kinda weird the first time, but when you splash that Hai-Karate across your ass….then give it a couple of good slaps to promote follicle stimulation for future shavings and finish off with a low heat session from the blow drier…..
I think I saw God that day…
I’m not waxing shit! I’m not gay…..
Well, I do love a great Vietnamese Pedicure…..Maybe, I’m just a little gay.
Oh….Don’t shave your….guys….you know what I’m saying.
Don’t shave….down there.
First off…….You HAVE to use a RAZOR.
Smearing the shaving cream all over your….thingee’s…..is a grand time no doubt. (I’m always tired after the smearing part for some reason and never get to the shaving end of it…Hmmmm)
Don’t put razors down there…..
You know how you get that feeling in your knees and stomach when you’re standing on the edge of a precipice, or ‘high place’ for you fellow dumb-asses?
“Go ahead….Jump” You’re brain says.
What if you listen to your brain and jump?
What if the same thing happens while your shaving….your….you know?
“Have at it big boy! Off with their heads!” Your fucked up brain screams.
You start hacking and chopping, laughing and screaming like a maniac….Shaving cream and blood spraying and splashing all over the bathroom!
“What are you doing!?” Your wife screams from behind you.
You turn around and say….”Nuttin’ honey…”
But you saw it in your mind didn’t you?
You were gonna cut off your hoo ha’s weren’t you, you sick bastard!?
Don’t do it.
I swear to God you’ll regret it.
Doesn’t really matter though, after 10 years of marriage your wife will put them in a jar and sit them on the fireplace mantle where you can look at them any time you want to.
Mine keeps the goldfish in there too.
Looks like a couple of honky sea urchins.
Okay…It seems that a zesty dill pickle and a Cajun pickled egg kills the taste of lens cleaner….
Good to know…..Write it down dumb-asses.
You know who you are.
This is how you can tell:
You know before you do something particularly risky, some THING that you have done before, that there is an element of relapse capability.
And you do it anyway….
Like bopping yourself in the mouth when pulling off a sock or shoe. (Mines always a muddy boot for some reason)
Here’s my favorite:
Opening the freezer door and the big door on the fridge, bending down to get something in the lower part, stand back up and “CracK!!!”
Enter Dumb-ass Valhalla.
Wish I had a dollar for every sunza bitchin’ time…..
Reaching for a boiling pot handle or sizzling frying pan, knowing you should grab a pot-holder, but saying “Fuck it, I’m only going to hold it for a second, I’m just moving it to the back burner…..”
I’m not even gonna say anything else…….
Are you Shitting me!?!
I just tipped over my pickle jar reaching for my soda mug…..
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!!!!!
I can’t believe this is happening as I write this post about DUMB-ASS occurrences!!
I knew the dang lid was off, I knew I’d get another pickle out but……
I’m a plague….I’m a freaking carrier of dumb-ass.
I’m a menace!
I’m gonna kill myself…..
Posted from WordPress by my Android by Treyzguy