Sawyer is Awesome

Free Ice For Everyone

2011-06-02T13:00:00.000-05:00

The building where I work is about to undergo a rather large renovation. They are ripping out the entire kitchen, rewiring all the event spaces, knocking out some walls; closing down all dining, event and sporting areas. However, during this time, our 16 hotel/overnight rooms will still be available to our members and their guests. That's right, we are going have people staying the night in a building that will be covered in dust, waking up to drilling and hammering with little to no food or beverage service. Sounds fabulous, doesn't it?

We have lowered the price of the overnight stays and have tried to create a continental breakfast for guests. But that doesn't seem to be enough. We must do more. What can we do for our guests that will make them say, "Hey! That club was the nicest place I've ever stayed in spite of all the construction."?

Two words: free ice.

My boss asked me what my thoughts were in regards to what kind of extra services we could provide to help increase the quality of our guest's stay during the renovation. I told him that we should continue on with our regular services as we already do, see what special needs arise and adapt accordingly as the construction continues.

"No, we need to do something extra. Something that's really going to make them impressed. What do you think about sending up a bucket of ice to each room around 5 o'clock everyday?"

I was at a loss for words. It was the dumbest idea I had ever heard in my entire life. Who in their right mind would want an unwarranted bucket of ice delivered to their room in the early evening. Sorry, but if I was staying in a hotel and someone brought me a bucket of ice for no reason, I would think it was one of my arch nemesi attempting to poison me. Or it was a strip-o-gram and the ice was for their nipples.

After several moments of silence, I knew I had to give him some kind of answer. My response: "That's stupid. Who would be impressed by a bucket of ice?"

So in conclusion, my boss is mad at me because I have a negative attitude and I'm not willing to offer my opinion.

Granted it may have been negative... but it was definitely an opinion.

Hey stoopid. If you want impress people with a bucket of ice, you gotta put a bottle of Henny in it. Just sayin'.

He's Just Sticky

2011-06-01T08:51:00.003-05:00

This is Ivan Stoiljkovic. His family claims that he has the ability to attract metallic objects to his body. Spoons, frying pans and, obviously, irons. They say he can carry up to 25 kg of metal stuck to his torso. They also say that his hands emit heat and produce healing powers.

Apparently, Ivan is a member of the mother fucking X-Men. Magneto with a hint of whoever it is that heals people. I'm pretty sure this chubby bastard is not the evolved future of humanity. If you ask me, he's just sweaty. As a fat kid, I know that puffy skin can get sweaty and sticky easily. Ain't nothing but a parlor trick when I stick that frying pan to my pasty gut. Put a couple of serving spoons on my nipples and we've got ourselves a party.

And as far as his hands radiating heat... they're hot because he just pulled a Hot Pocket out of the microwave without waiting for it to cool off.

Sorry, Ivan. You are not special. You're just sticky.

Something's In The Water...

2010-03-23T10:51:00.003-06:00

I'm pretty sure that a good ol' fashioned "WHAT THE FUCK?" could sum this up. But you know me, I like to nitpick when it comes to human deformities.

This is a picture from Shenyang, Liaoning where a 6-year-old boy shows of his totally jacked up hands and feet. The boy, who has 15 fingers and 16 toes, is scheduled to have surgery to remove all those extra digits. Experts are saying that some kind of gene mutation is to blame for the deformity. Well, no shit, Sherlock.

I'd be careful if I were this kid's doctors. What if the extra toes and fingers get angry that they got cut off and attack? Hasn't anyone ever seen The Addams Family before? Where do you think Thing came from?

If I were born with all those extra digits, I would want to hold on to them for a while. I could blow Michael Phelps out of the water with my super flipper feet. And don't even get me started on the hands jobs I could dish out with those pot holder hands. I would redefine "the shocker." Women would flock to my doorstep requesting the soon-to-be-patented "Floppy Sloppy Fifteen Finger Fuck."

Now that I think about it, that means I would have to touch pussy. That's gross. Cut those extra extremities off as quick as possible. But I would have them stuffed and mounted, just in case I start feeling the need for octuple penetration again. Mmmm, taxidermy kink.

Gross Gardens

2010-03-11T10:17:00.003-06:00

A while back, HBO made a movie called Grey Gardens. It won several Emmy's and two Golden Globes. The film itself is based off a documentary of the same name that follows the lives of Edith "Big Edie" Ewing Bouvier Beale and her daughter Edith "Little Edie" Bouvier Beale. They were the aunt and first cousin of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis. Fancy.

Well, they lived in this beautiful estate called Grey Gardens in East Hampton, NY. When Big Edie's husband left her, he gave her the house and eventually Little Edie moved there to take care of her.

Anyway, these two women were so used to having other people take care of them and the things around them, that after a couple of decades with limited funds, the house had decayed and they lived in squalor.

Most people know the story of "The Edie's." I, however, am not one of those people. I rented the HBO movie off Netflix because it won a bunch of awards. I wasn't even aware that it was based off of a true story. After watching the film, I had to see the documentary. I couldn't believe that woman that came from such a high social status would just go to shit the way these women did in the movie.

I went to put the documentary on my Netflix queue and I realized I could watch it streaming. So I did just that. I sat down to watch the documentary and not 10 minutes into it I was aware that the HBO version hadn't quite shown how fucking nasty these women were.

Cats pissing everywhere, wild animals in the house, garbage piling up everywhere... sick.

That was covered in the HBO version, but to see it filmed reality TV style was disturbing. They constantly complained about flea bites and the cats urinating on their beds (which they would just llay newspaper on top of). But the thing that I couldn't fathom was how they would complain about raccoons in their attic and then go into the attic and leave bread and cat food for them to eat. They would feed the wild animals that they didn't want in their house! What the fuck?

I could ramble on and on about how gross and crazy these women were, but I'll just suggest that you watch both films and vomit on your own accord.

And just to prove the crazy, here's Little Edie talking about fashion.

Mr. Vice President

2010-03-05T10:07:00.003-06:00

Not everyone can say that they have had the esteemed honor of meeting a leader of the free world. I, on the other hand, can.

When I was about 7 or 8 years old, my mother took me to an event in Washington DC. Her organization was growing and there were a lot of important people showing interest in her business. My mother, father, sisters and I all got gussied up and were on our best behavior because at this event we would be formally introduced to the Vice President of the United States, Dan Quayle.

That's right. The guy that doesn't know how to spell potato and thinks Murphy Brown is a whore.

There I was, dressed to the nines, ready to impress. I was going to dazzle the Vice President with my manners, my dashing good looks and most importantly, my impeccable comedic timing.

As I approached Vice President Quayle, I extended my hand to greet him and confidently asked, "Would you like to hear a joke about President Bush?" My family froze, uncertain of what would come next. Mr. Vice President smiled and allowed me to continue.

"Did you know that the President and Mrs. Bush still play sex games in bed?"

The silent terror that was emitting from my family was palpable.

The Vice President stared at me. I took that as his way of saying that he wasn't aware and he would like to know more on the subject.

"Yeah. He farts and then holds her head under the covers."

My mother grabbed me and swept me away so quickly that I didn't get the chance to see Mr. Quayle's reaction. I'm sure he was doubled over with laughter with just a little pee coming out.

That was the day my mother taught me that there was a time and a place for off color jokes. Oddly enough, I never retained that information.

Fat Ass Baby

2009-09-23T12:35:00.003-05:00

Somewhere in Indonesia, some lady's pussy has been ruined.

Some poor bitch pushed that fat ass baby on the left out of her vagina. That hurts my vagina just thinking about it... and I don't even have a vagina. Vagina. When I first saw this picture I thought that she gave birth to twins. One huge, one tiny. Just like that movie with Danny DeVito and Arnold SChwarzenegger where they're twins. What was that movie called again?

Anyway. They just put that baby on the right in the picture so you could see just how fucking giant that other twat stretching baby really is. That bitch weighs 19.5 pounds!!! The heaviest baby to ever be born in Indonesia. Somebody needs to put that baby on Maury.

I always thought that people in Indonesia were hungry. How in the hell are they making babies this big if they're starving? Well, all I know is that the next time some asshole is telling me that I can feed a hungry child for less than the cost of a cup of coffee, I'ma call his ass up just to make sure this fat ass baby isn't pulling a Sally Struthers and eating up all that shit. It's called sharing, fat baby.

Yet another reason why all babies are assholes.

You Look Familiar

2009-09-01T13:03:00.005-05:00

*Please note that no names were used in this story. The identities of those involved shall remain hidden. However, their dongs will not.

Yesterday I was blindly surfing through facebook. I went to random friend's pages, looking at their friends, and their friends and so on. At an acquaintance of mine's page, one of his friend's profile pictures caught my eye. I clicked on it to see a bigger version so I could tell whether I knew him or not. To my surprise, his page opened. It was a rarity that someone's page isn't set to private nowadays, what with all that internet rapin' going on.

He was an attractive man. He was around my age, a little shorter and BUILT. He had very nice arms, a great smile and a very distinctive tattoo on his left shoulder. I spent a few minutes looking through his pictures, seeing if I could figure out how I knew him. We shared a couple of friends, but no one that I hang out with on a regular basis. After a while, I retired my investigation and chalked it up to someone I met at a party after too many beers. (Like that ever happens.)

Later in the day, I was working with a friend of mine on a project that was nearing it's deadline. He received a call from his roommate informing him that he was bringing home company. Oooooh, someone was gonna get some. A few minutes later, his roommate walked in with his guest. I almost fucking freaked out. It was the guy I had been facebook stalking earlier that day. There he was... big arms, cute smile, unmistakable tattoo. I would have said something if we had been drinking, but alas, sober Sawyer actually has a little tact.

Everyone introduced themselves. We showed off our project. The other two boys decided to watch television. I secretly informed my friend that the man that just came in with his roommate just happened to be the guy that I had stalked earlier on facebook. After a few minutes, the roommate offered to go into his room to watch TV so they wouldn't be disturbing us. We were nearly finished, so we told them it wasn't a distraction and they didn't have to leave if they didn't want to. After the roommate asked us a third time, my friend said that it appeared that he wanted to go into his room, so he probably should. To which I added, "What exactly is it that you boys are planning on watching?" *wink, wink. nudge, nudge.* The two boys got up and retired to the roommate's bedroom to "watch TV."

As soon as they were out of the room, I looked at my friend and asked how was it that I knew him. He responded with one word, "Porno." I was hit by a flash of lightening as everything finally came together. "Randy Blue," I exclaimed. Randy Blue is a porno site with all kinds of healthy, big muscled mens. Now I knew why that guy looked so familiar! I have totally spanked it to him giving it and getting it every which way. The name he introduced himself with didn't ring a bell because it wasn't his "stage name." I was so excited! The last I had met a porno star, I was still in college. I had never seen of that actors work, but everyone else said it was true and he was very convincing when he demonstrated how you get your entire forearm up someone's ass when fisting. ("Fingers first.")

As soon as my friend and I were through working, I ran home as fast as I could. I headed straight for my laptop. All I had to type in was "ra" and the computer recognized where I wanted to going. I went to the preview bar and there he was, my old friend. He was wearing satin running shorts and he had a mouth full of cock. Now he looked really familiar. I had finally figured out how I knew him. I had finally put a name to the face. And that other guy had put his cock to that face.

Needless to say, my old friend helped me out one more time. Thanks old friend! I owe you one. (Call me.)

Oh, Me.

2009-08-28T08:27:00.003-05:00

Sometimes I say or write things that make me laugh out loud. Seeing as how I am my biggest critic, I must be pretty fucking funny. I think I might start this as a regular thing since I laugh at myself more than other people do.

Let me paint you a picture.
My dear friend Renee had the following as her facebook status...

"Renee Reed just discovered that on the packaging of the Whole Wheat English Muffins that I have been eating for breakfast for quite some time now it states, "Hearty Nooks...Tasty Crannies." Well, that relationship is over."

To which I commented...

"Isn't that what jon senn says about your snatch?"

Back story: Renee dorked one of our old friends, Jon Senn.

I was certain that Renee would delete that comment, so I put something on her wall too. This is what made me LOL at myself.

""Mmmmm. Hearty Nooks...Tasty Crannies!" exclaimed Jon Senn whilst he was chin deep in Renee's poon."

Mwah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! I am hilarious!!!

I Do Awesome Things

2009-08-26T12:00:00.001-05:00

Long story short...

I got drunk on Saturday. We went to The Closet. They had a lot of pictures of dogs on the walls. Sparky caught my eye. We were inseparable for the rest of the weekend. Until I lost her. *tear*

I carried this picture of Sparky around with me for a good 24 hours. It was one of those nights where sleep was pointless and booze was my only friend. After I stole Sparky, I "crashed" over at James' house. He went to bed, I stayed up and date raped his facebook. I updated his status at least 30 times. You know, somethin' to do.

The next morning the three of us (James, Sparky and I) layed out for some much needed UV. That night, we went out to a going away dinner for our friend Daniel. Daniel received a flip book called Creative Cursing. Sparky was deemed the "cock waffle" of the group.

Sparky made a lot of great friends and had a wonderful time. I don't really know what happened to good ol' Sparky. Hopefully, she's in a better place now. Like being used to do lines of blow off of. Lucky bitch.

FYI: If you can't read what it says under Sparky's picture...
" #1 SPARKY
Favorite Story... Too Many!
Vote For Me
Sweet, Cute, Yes!
Vote For Me
Makes Me Smile
Vote For Me
Everyday Priceless!"

I have no fucking idea. That's what made her so special.

So Fruity

2009-08-21T12:20:00.003-05:00

Oh my.

I'm surprised that boy don't get the spina bifida from all that rump shakin'. I have to give the white boy props for getting his back field in motion just as good, if not better, than some of my soul sistas.

I do need to comment on his choice of costume for this performance. Now I can't exactly distinguish whether the pattern on his pajama pants are hotdogs or The Magic School Bus. I'm hoping for the latter. Can you imagine Miss Frizzle taking the class there for a field trip? And the neon green undies. Makes me think it tastes like lime sherbert down there.

I've never heard that song that's playing before. Any song where grown men shout "bark, bark, bark" is alright in my book.

This guy has full on YouTube page and everything. He's actually kind of cute. He's got that dirty south / Sookie Stackhouse accent working for him. It's just weird how much meat he got on 'im. How does one go about having so much body mass on just the lower half of their body? Maybe this guys wears green underwear because his ass is shaped like a pear.

Grrrrl, you betta' work that fruity booty.

She's Got My Vote

2009-08-20T15:16:00.003-05:00

She had me at pie.

No, seriously. I'm writing her in for the 2011 election.

This Chick Has Balls

2009-08-20T14:26:00.003-05:00

This nubian goddess is Caster Semenya. She's a major track athlete in South Africa. She's won all kinds of races and holds several titles. She is one of the most promising athletes South Africa has for the next Summer Olympics. One problem... chick got a dick.

Recently the press has been asking questions regarding her gender. Somebody probably got a little peek-a-boo at her goodies and realized that she was packin' a Fudgsicle instead of a Choco-Taco, and is now trying to ruin her career. Poor she-male.

Her family insists that the claims are ridiculous. Wouldn't you if you had cut your hermaphrodite child's dong off with a pair of toenail clippers? They probably threw that little baby wiener into that bucket with all the circumcised clits and no one was ever the wiser.

And look at her name: Caster Semenya. "Cast her semen... YA!" Just like you cast a fishing pole, this bitch's semen can fly out almost 50 feet. And catch a might big carp, might I add.

I think if this bitch is able to tuck her junk back and still run as fast as she can without losing her duct tape, she should be left the fuck alone. Everybody knows that hermaphrodites are freakishly strong and prone to violence. Just like the retarded.

So, just let the bitch run. God forbid you get it angry and it starts fucking itself to create a master race of unisex athletes that will take over the world by eating our reproductive organs one by one. It's been known to happen.

Moist

2009-08-20T12:48:00.000-05:00

I heard on the radio the other day that the most disliked word in the English language is "moist." I've heard that before. George's mom on Dead Like Me hated the word "moist." I, on the other hand, have no ill will towards the word "moist." Moist, moist, moist. I like moist cake. I like moist towelettes. I like moist vagina. Mmmmm, moist. You know what I do hate. When people continuously say a word that people hate over and over and moist.

I know someone that hates that too. His name is James and he hates the word FRUIT CUP.

Which is pretty stoopid, if you ask me. Fruit cup, fruit cup, fruit cup. To quote Hermione Granger, "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself." Why be scared of the word "fruit cup." It's not like the fruit cup is going to hurt you. Unless you choke on a piece of melon and you die a horrible, lonely death because no one was there to give you the Heimlich maneuver... or maybe they were but they just wanted to watch you die as you choke on the one thing you fear the most... But I digress.

So I say, buck up America. Grab a moist fruit cup and eat away at the fear that binds you. And quit being such a bunch of fags... James.

Love This Bitch

2009-08-20T10:54:00.006-05:00

Oh, Shelley Duvall... you are breathtaking.

I watched The Shining for the first time last night. The movie wasn't nearly as scary as Shelley Duvall. Her face is flawless. Her body is banging. Her fashion sense is in a league of it's own. And her acting... well, let's just say that I have never been moved to tears during a comedy nor laughed harder during a drama than when Shelley Duvall was in it.

Not to mention she has the kind of name you'd say over and over when you're tripping. Shelley Duvall. Shelley Duvall. Shelley Duvall. (Look at all the colors, maaaaan.)

I have been in love with / habitually feared Shelley Duvall ever since I was little girl. I was born the same year that Popeye, starring Shelley Duvall, was released. I must have seen that movie over a hundred times growing up. Shelley Duvall looked exactly like Olive Oyl... and Olive Oyl is one ugly bitch. What that daddy bear Popeye ever saw in her, I'll never know.

Ms. Duvall was born exactly thirty years before my best friend, Megan, to the date. July 7, 1949. That means she's a Cancer. And I'm a Cancer. We all Cancers. And Cancer's always get along. I bet you we'd have so much fun together. "Hey Shelley, call me bitch. We'll go play a game of Whirlyball or maybe we'll jump a homeless man. Whatever you into, Shelley, I'm down."

From the top of your lima bean-shaped head to the bottom of your frying pan feet, Miss Shelley Duvall, I love you bitch!

Now, please relish in the performance that inspired this entry.

*This is me giving Shelley Duvall a standing ovation.*

James Is An Asshole

2009-08-14T10:38:00.002-05:00

I love James... I really do. But sometimes he does things that make me really angry. You would probably like an example. Well, here's one...

Not only did he film me while I'm sleeping, but he even posted it on YouTube before I woke up. That's a true friend. He didn't even have the decency to bitch smack me at the end so I could wake up screaming. At least then the video would have been funny.

One of these days, I will seek revenge. Perhaps I will kidnap his first born and raise him/her to hate their birth father. Then one day have him/her return home to seek revenge on the father that abandoned him/her. Or maybe I find someone that looks just like James and help them take over his life. We'll lock James in the tallest tower of a castle somewhere in France while his double slips into James' life unnoticed; ultimately ruining it. Mwah-ah-ah-ah-ah!

Soap opera revenge is always the sweetest.

Don't Call It A Comeback

2009-08-14T09:49:00.002-05:00

It's just like when Britney took a break after her Dream Within A Dream tour. Everyone made such a big deal about how she was taking time off. When she dropped her next album, In The Zone, a year later, the media made it out to be her "big comeback", when really the bitch just needed a little time to herself. But not too much time. We all know what happens when Britney takes too much time away from her career... bitch go cray cray.

I didn't retire, I just didn't feel like doing it. And just like Britney, I shaved my head and waited for it to grow back before I came back to work.

A lot has happened over the past 5 or so months. Some things I will revisit, others I will leave dead, where they belong... just like Michael Jackson. Ooooh, too soon?

Alright boys and grrrrls, hold on to your dongs and sloppy twats, cause I'm back, bitches.

Laugh At It

2009-03-19T12:03:00.006-06:00

You're interviewing three different women for a position as a cocktail waitress at your bar. Individually, you ask each one of them what they would do if, at the end of their shift, they found a five dollar bill on the floor?

The first woman answers that she would hold on to it until the next night and ask all the returning customers if they lost $5 the night before so she could return it to the rightful owner.

The second woman answers that she would take it directly to the till as to help benefit the business.

The third woman answers that she would put it in her pocket. Finders keepers.

Which woman do you hire?...

The one with the biggest tits, of course.

Ha. Boobs.

I Meet Awesome People.

2009-03-17T09:21:00.005-06:00

Don't ask me why or how. Sometimes bad things just happen.

It was the Saturday before St. Patrick's Day. I had been drinking since 3 o'clock. I was wearing my Kamel Bak. Give me a break. You're lucky I'm not deep tongue kissing her while stealing her wallet. Seriously people... pick your battles.

You must admit... that hair-do is to die for. No really. She should be shot for having that hair-do. And trust me, if I remember anything from that night, it's that her hair tasted like beets, battery acid and burnt skin. Yes, her hair tasted exactly like pussy. That is actually the ONLY thing I remember after the 9 o'clock mark.

Well, that and stumbling home by myself after James ditched me. Just like James to come and steal some of my vagina-flavored hair thunder and then leave me high and dry. Technically, he left me low and wet. I was on the ground covered in beer... but that's neither here nor there. No. It was on the sidewalk in front of Sidetrack.

Anyhoo. Happy St. Patrick's Day! And if anyone sees this beautiful beast out there in the wild... Seriously, shoot it.

Whad'ja Say?

2009-03-14T08:18:00.002-06:00

I wish I were deaf... or skinny. Maybe, that way, I could nail the shit out of this guy.

Ya hear me?

Make My Dreams Come True

2009-03-12T07:25:00.008-06:00

I was late for work today because I was having such a wonderful dream, that I never wanted to wake up.

There I was... at The Circus starring Britney Spears with my friend, Daniel. We were sitting center stage, maybe twenty rows back. They were fantastic seats. For those of you that don't know... The Circus is performed in the round with three round stages. Get it? Three ring circus. I hope you get it. (And I hope you understand.)

Anyway... So the show begins and I am so excited. She starts dancing and lip syncing and I am in heaven. She starts walking to one of the side stages, so I take off running to that side of the arena. Somehow, I get right next to the stage. I see her approaching and I can not believe how close to her I am. She walks down the stairs and is now less than 5 feet away from me. I reach out my hand, tears in my eyes. We make eye contact and she waves my hand away. I don't care. That single moment that we shared will live in me forever. Yet, poor Britney, she felt the connection too. She turned back around, walked directly up to me, reached out and grabbed my hand. She looked into my eyes and smiled. I was overwhelmed and tears ran from my eyes. The moment only got better when I looked behind her and saw that the entire moment was captured on the giant screen behind her. Everyone else was so jealous.

I know that the show must go on, so I let go of her grasp and watched her bounce away in her slutty outfit. I returned to my seat and the first thing Daniel says is, "Oh my God! You were on the JumboTron! She touched you!" Before I could reply my classic reply, "I know. I'm awesome." Britney was headed toward the other side stage. My thirst to be close to Britney was not quenched. I took off running toward the other end of the stage. When I reached it, Britney was already standing there. When she saw me, she put her hands on her hips and laughed to herself. One of those shoulder jumping laughs. She waved to one of her security men, whispered in his ear and pointed directly at me. Most people would think that they were going to be escorted from the building due to their increasing stalker activity. Not me. This was my dream and I knew what was going to happen next.

All of a sudden, Daniel and I are backstage. We are in this beautiful white and pink room decorated with large plush couches and huge, detailed flower arrangements. The room smelled of lilies and money. We could hear the crowd roaring out front. I knew that the concert had just ended and it would only be few minutes before I would get to officially meet Britney face to face. Slowly people started to trickle into the room. First men in suits, then back-up dancers... she would be there any minute. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard the chorus to "Womanizer."

"Boy, don't try to front, uh-uh. You know just what you are, uh-uh."

I was ripped from this perfect dream by my mother fucking ring tone. My roommate was calling my cell phone because she realized that I hadn't left for work yet. It was a very nice thing to do, however, I hated her for ruining my chance at meeting the only person I would rape, maim and kill for.

Even though I was disappointed that I never got to meet "Dream Britney", this whole occurrence only reaffirmed something for me: I will be getting tickets to The Circus starring Britney Spears. I don't know when or how, but I will be going to the Allstate Arena on either Tuesday, April 28th or Wednesday, April 29th. I have faith that the universe will bring me these tickets. And if the universe doesn't, one of you fuckers better. I only have friends so they will buy me stuff. So get to it. And don't give me any of this nosebleed section bullshit. I want center stage, twenty rows back. Just like in the dream.

So I will be impatiently waiting for my tickets. Until then, I will be watching footage from the concert over and over and over again until I get them. Please enjoy "If U Seek Amy" from The Circus starring Britney Spears. Hopefully, you will enjoy it enough to get off your lazy ass and get me some free tickets.

You gotta love the "Whac-A-Mole" bit a the end.

Oh, To Be A Carrot

2009-03-06T11:12:00.002-06:00

Fo realz, ya'll.

I've never wanted to be produce more in my life. I know it sounds creepy wanting a giraffe to blow you, but come on... look at that tongue action! I want someone, or something, to wrap it's tongue around my dong and lick it like it were made out of some hard tack candy. Grrrrrl. I would face rape that giraffe with my candy cane schlong any day!

The downside to getting a blow job from a giraffe... Having to climb all the way up that tree and getting scrapes on my bare ass from the tree bark. But hey, there is a fine line between pleasure and pain. So blow giraffe, blow. And you scrape the shit out of my ass.

This is getting a little too weird... even for me.

Chicks Dig Me

2009-03-06T10:05:00.004-06:00

Ever since I shaved my head last weekend, it has been so cold that every time I've gone outside, I've had to wear a hat. Well, today is a beautiful day so I went sans hat for the first time outside.

And let me tell you... chicks dig a chubby guy with a bald head. I had a girl strike up a conversation with me at the train stop. I caught the lady sitting across from me on the train staring. And some bitch checked me out when I passed her on the street. Apparently, bald heads make hot sluts moist.

Of course, maybe I'm reading too much into this. Maybe they're looking at me because I look like this...

Actually, now that I think about it, I am jumping to conclusions. The girl at the train stop only asked me to stop spitting at her and I told her to "suck it." That doesn't really constitute a conversation. And the lady sitting across from me on the train was probably staring at me because I was openly masturbating to fruition. And that bitch on the street... Well she was probably trying to remember what I looked like so she could give a description to the police seeing as how I was defecating on the sidewalk.

Oh well. I guess it was never truly meant to be. See later pussy. We had a good run. Every time I fuck an ass... I'll think of you.

3 Useless Bits

2009-03-06T09:26:00.003-06:00

1. The most common first letter for words in the English language is "S."

Seriously. Sawyer's sucks super schlong semen, silly. So, sloppy seconds sometime? Scromptly. (That last one is for you, Jim.)

2. Queen Latifah once worked at Burger King.

Whatever. And Don King worked at Dairy Queen. Like that's a surprise. The bitch looks like she knows how to eat a Whopper. You know she dips her curly fries in honey mustard, too.

3. "Natural cleft" is the medical term for butt-crack.

Really? I call it a "cleft palate." Cause you taste things on your palate. Get it? Cleft palate... butt-crack... I eat ass. Mmmm... ass.

Femernine

2009-03-06T08:45:00.000-06:00

I went to a house party after bars with a group of homos and Leslie. At one point, I walked up to my friend Adam and noticed that he looked upset. When I asked him what was wrong, he pointed to Leslie and said, "Your friend called me feminine."

"What? Leslie wouldn't say that," I said. "She wouldn't waste her time. She would have just called you a faggot." He disagreed and continued to get upset, so I called Leslie over and told her what he thought she said. Leslie's response: "I wouldn't call you feminine, I would just call you a faggot."

"See. I told you."

So for the rest of the night, that was the running joke between Leslie and I. We would call each other feminine and we would laugh and laugh. It got to the point that we were so drunk, we started adding an "R" to the word. "Why are you so femernine?"

It was so funny to us that it followed through to the next day. Leslie slept at my house and woke me with the following dance number, starring Silke Reeann Sawyer, my adopted Asian baby with Downs Syndrome...

This shit was so funny to me, that as soon as I was done taping it, I had to run to the bathroom because I almost pissed myself. I got back into bed and we watched it for the first time and I laughed so hard I almost shit. Literally.

You can not tell me that when that little retarded Asian looks at you and says "Why you so femernine?" you don't laugh. Cause I laugh every single time I watch. And I poop my pants a little, too.

My Chinese Grandma

2009-02-27T13:02:00.005-06:00

I wish I had a Chinese grandma that I could teach English. I would teach her words like "donkey punch" and "grundle pie."

My Chinese grandma would have crooked bangs and smoke Virgina Slim Menthol Lights.

My Chinese grandma would enjoy slam dancing and bocce ball.

My Chinese grandma would only wear Tommy Hilfiger brand jeans and use reservoir tipped condoms.

My Chinese grandma would love to watch The Antique Roadshow while sipping on chilled store brand grenadine.

My Chinese grandma would only eat the black jelly beans and jerk off to Nancy Grace.

My Chinese grandma would be awesome. Fuck you too, Chinese grandma!

I Do Awesome Things.

2009-02-27T09:56:00.006-06:00

Like fall in between the red couches at Berlin. Sick. God knows what I landed in.

I went out for London Chris' birthday last Saturday. Really what I did was sit at the Glass Bar in Sidtracks, drink $75 worth of Tangueray and Cicilian Kiss shots and then go to Berlin only to black out and make an ass out of myself. I went to Berlin with James and Eleanor sometime after 2 am. We had a full on photo shoot. I took at least 50 pictures of the three of us posing on the dance floor; posing by the bar; posing on those disgusting red, vinyl couches.

It was my turn to pose. I went for the arm of one of the red couches... and I bit it. I slid right off the arm of the couch into the small open square of space and onto the floor. When I fell, my entire drink splashed all over me. As you can see, I was sufficiently soaked. It even got in my eye. You ever get gin & tonic in your eye, Gabriel? It burns.

To make matters worse...

...James just left my ass in that hole and took pictures of me. I really was like that old lady in those Life Call commercials. I had fallen... and I couldn't get my gay ass up.

Ah, it's always a good time blacking out at Berlin. At least it makes for good blogging.

Fatty McFat Fat

2009-02-27T08:45:00.005-06:00

Sometimes, I like to eat my feelings.

I know that sounds ridiculous, seeing as how I don't have feelings. But I have been so crabby lately because of the weather and monotony of daily life that I decided to eat until I exploded last night.

I decided to make some spaghetti with meat sauce last night. It was delicious. So delicious in fact that I ate all of it. And by "all of it" I mean every last bite of the spaghetti that would have lasted most people three days. I had made a huge batch so I would have left overs. But, oh no... I ate all that shit. As a matter of fact, I had made the unconscious decision to not waste time getting up for seconds, so I put every last noodle into a huge salad bowl and ate until it was gone.

I was full to the gills. I couldn't even drink water due to the fear that if the pasta expanded any more, my stomach was going to tear and I would bleed to death internally.

But wait... did I mention that as I was scooping the 3 pounds of pasta into my trough, that I put one of those "ready to bake" Nestle Toll House brownie things in the oven? Approximately 10 minutes after I was finished shovelling spaghetti into my face, the timer went off. And seriously, who can resist warm brownies right out of the oven?

Obviously, not me. I had one as soon as they came out of the oven. (Mmmmm, there was peanut butter in the middle.) About a minute later, my second cow stomach kicked in and I said "fuck it." I was going to stick to my plan of not wasting time getting up for seconds. I was taking the whole pan - and a fork - with me.

Over the next hour, all whilst watching (and crying at) "Just Like Heaven", I ate the entire pan of brownies excluding the very last corner. The last corner that I couldn't finish because I was starting to hallucinate in between the times I was blacking out.

The movie was over, so I literally rolled into my room. I got into my bed without taking my pajama pants off like I normally do because I was afraid I would shit myself if I bent over. I feel asleep immediately. However, I didn't sleep very long.
In my dream, I was a contestant on The Biggest Loser and I was losing. Not weight, the competition. Everyone on my team was pissed at me because I would not stop eating. Jillian was my trainer and she hated me because I refused to work out. I would just sit there eating frosting from the container. After a while the dream got so uncomfortable for me I started tossing and turning and finally woke myself up when I realized that I had knocked my comforter and all my pillows off of my bed.

I rearranged my sleeping area and took a drink of water from my nightstand table. I let out one of those "deep down in your soul" kind of belches. I tasted the combination of spaghetti and brownies rise up in my throat. Luckily, it didn't make it the whole way out. I laid back down and passed out once again.

I awoke this morning sure that I was going to have to shit before I left for work. Yet, here I am, over three hours later and still... no dookie. I know that when my body finally lets loose of the 12 and a half pounds of pure carbs that I ate last night, it's going to be one for the record books. I even brought my camera, just in case I drop this one at work. I starting to think this one might be blog-worthy.

Bass Pro

2009-02-13T14:14:00.004-06:00

A long time ago, back when people still had land lines and answering machines, I used to change my outgoing message every single day. Sometimes it was a joke, other times a little diddy. But most of the time, it was something perverted and filthy. Go figure.

Well, my mother called me one day and she was not pleased with what was on my outgoing message. I have absolutely no recollection of what it was that I said, but I'm sure it was inappropriate. Offended, she left the following message...

"(In a high pitched voice.) Michael! I can not believe you would put that on your answering machine! That is horrible! Disgusting! You need to change that immediately. My god! (She takes a breath, and then calmly continues.) Anyway, your father and I are at the... (low, deep, grunting sound)UGH!... (back to normal) Bass Pro."

I played this message over and over. I would even call my friends and play it for them over the phone. James took a particular liking to it. For over six years now, it has been a running joke between the two of us. Out of nowhere, one of us will just go, "UGH... Bass Pro."

It came up one night while James was filming my drunk ass in the back of a cab. Enjoy the following short film dedicated to the UGH... Bass Pro.

I am a lyrical genius. You can tell that Adam loves my vocal stylings. My rap name is DJ Slice... Look me up. I'm totally famous.

Super Bore Sunday

2009-01-30T10:34:00.003-06:00

Football. Never been much of a fan. Besides the guys bending over in tight spandex, I've never really understood the fascination with the sport.

As far as I'm concerned, the only thing the Super Bowl is good for is hanging out with friends while drinking keg beer and eating cheese dip.

Speaking of cheese dip... One time I had a "Gay Friendly" Super Bowl party. We would mute the game and only paid attention to the commercials and Half-Time Show. Anyway, Dan Ford showed up uninvited, pulled his dick out and peed through my beer bong into my cheese dip. Needless to say, I was pissed. (Pun not intended.)

Later, as I was in my kitchen gagging from the smell of the urine soaked cheese dip I was dumping it into my garbage disposal, I heard screaming. I went back into the living room to see an entirely naked Dan Ford with my coffee table over his head. I watched in disbelief as this nude man smashed my coffee table into little pieces in the middle of my living room floor. That pretty much ended the party. A room full of gay guys watching a drunk, naked, straight man piss in the food they were eating and then demolishing furniture is usually a party ender.

That is, by far, one of the most memorable Super Bowl parties I've ever been to.

But let us not forget that the Super Bowl is only important because of the commercials. Anyone who actually cares about the game is too straight for my tastes... and I like the taste of straight dude dong. And what Sawyer Is Awesome post would be complete without a shameless plug for Britney Spears. Below is her very first Super Bowl commercial. Ah, vintage Britney... Before she made babies, shaved her head and quit caring. Miss you, old school, Pepsi selling Britney.

I See Awesome Stuff.

2009-01-29T11:53:00.003-06:00

Ah, sexy times at "The Hole." Nothing better than public sex in a dank basement bar. Ya gotta love the leather daddies and the way they work it.

I went to "The Hole" in Jackhammer with a few friends who shall remain nameless. While there, I peeked over my shoulder to witness the beautiful love making that was taking place on the wooden bench behind me.

Nothing says "love" quite like nailing a stranger in a room that has a bar, open air bathroom, leather sling and a bathtub for golden showers in it. Not to mention the thirty people standing around watching.

p.s. The Hole is my new favorite bar. Thinking about taking the folks there next time the come in town.

You Can't Do That At Charlie's

2009-01-29T11:45:00.001-06:00

Last weekend, I met James out late on Saturday night. Everyone else had either gone home already or were leaving when I arrived. Since James and I were the only two left standing, we decided to slum it up and go to Charlie's.

Now, if you've never been to Charlie's... lucky you. Charlie's is a cowboy bar that is full of "special" people. Namely retards, hillbillies and freaks. There is always way too much smoke coming from an insanely loud smoke machine and there is lighting scaffolding all around the dance floor that is just begging to be climbed on.

As soon as James and I get there and we run into our friend Brett. Brett is quickly becoming a favorite of mine solely because his a crazy faggot. Remember that scaffolding that is begging to be climbed on...

... he climbed it. And he got pretty far up, until...

... someone from security came up and pulled him down. The security guard started yelling about "you can't do that" and "time for you to go." Brett tried to reason with the man...

"Why is it there if we're not allowed to climb it?" The security guy wasn't having any of it. He began escorting Brett to the door.

As we drew closer to the exit, there was a commotion to the right of us. People were yelling and there was a man pulling this girl behind him. She was fighting and him yelling "NO". He pulled her violently, sending her flying to the ground.

He tried to get her up, but she kept pulling away from him. So, the "gentleman" decided that pinning her arm behind her back would be the best method of getting her off the ground.

It wasn't. At this point, people are screaming, "Leave her alone" and "Get off of her." He was obviously hurting her. That's when I began to question if this guy was security, or just her abusive gay boyfriend. This bitch was wasted. Maybe she deserved it? All I can say is she was fighting back... hard. She broke free of the man's grip...

... and landed on her face. That, and she lost her shoe. Now they were both pissed. Her, because she was getting her ass kicked. Him, because he couldn't get her out of the bar.

Now, this next shot up is probably the best candid picture I have ever taken of anyone... EVER.

The gay boyfriend grabbed the drunk girl by her arm and started dragging her toward the door. In doing so, her top got pulled down.

At least she hadn't let go of her lip gloss. She continued to fight until the guy gave up trying and just left her face down on the ground... topless.

She took a few moments to collect herself. She put her shoe on, pulled her top up and got to her feet.

As soon as she was up, the gay boyfriend grabbed her from behind and ran out the door with her as she continued to scream.

Everyone that had witnessed the struggle was standing there, shocked. That's when we realized that Brett was no longer being escorted out. They had forgotten about him, and rightfully so.

Brett said it best... "I'm not allowed to climb on the scaffolding, but they'll let someone beat the hell out of a woman?" That's Charlie's for ya.

On Monday, I posted the pictures on Facebook. Needless to say, this one...

...was a hit. So far, there are over 20 comments and it has been tagged by people that I don't even know. I have no idea who this girl is, but I am sure that sooner or later she's going to see this shit.

Brett even took it a step further by trying to find her ass on "Missed Connections" on Craigslist.

It reads:
"
Flashed your Tahs at Charlie's on Saturday! - m4w - 26 (waveland & broadway)

I am in search of the crazy drunk girl at Charlie's on Saturday.
You being a train wreck actually prevented me from being kicked out.

In the spirit of good times, I had climbed one of the light rigs near the dance floor. You should have seen the view from up there. Glorious! The staff was not so keen on this. I hadn't signed a waiver.

Thankfully, just as some dude was escorting me to the door, you appeared in a blur of hair, tit, and maybe a little bit of vomit.

You were yelling and fighting some guy, and then you spilled to the floor. You proceeded to writhe around down there for a bit, refusing assistance. Your shoe fell off. And your blouse. But that didn't stop you. Nope.

Had you not arrived, I surely would have been forcibly excused.

Thank you for causing a huge scene and being a hot mess.

I just wanted to say, "Thank you!"
"

Brett even posted that titty picture on the bottom.

That picture is the best thing to happen to me and my friends in a long time.

I agree with Brett. I just want to say "Thank you!" Thank you drunk titty girl, thank you.

Art In Motion

2009-01-29T08:53:00.002-06:00

I'm not going to say who this belongs to only because I know he'll make me take it off... but you can bet your sweet bippy it's not mine. First of all, it's hard plastic. I need some shit that is flexible so it can work with me, not against me. Second, it is WAY too small. I like my dildos to be at least six feet long and two feet in circumference. (Ha. Cir"cum"ference.) Otherwise, it's like throwing a hot dog down a hallway.

Damn Stairs

2009-01-21T09:21:00.005-06:00

Yesterday was laundry day for me. Seeing as how I had been wearing dirty underwear for three days in a row, I decided I was past due to hit up the washing machine in my basement. I planned on doing at least three loads... my bed linens first, then colors and ending with whites. I stripped my bed and wadded all my sheets up into a ball. I put on my roommates Crocs that she leaves by the back door and made my way to the basement. I walked down the snow covered stairs carefully. When I reached the first landing, I noticed that the remaining stairs had much more snow on them than the first few. I repositioned my laundry in my arms, reached for the railing and stepped down.

Next thing I know, my ass and head are bouncing off of every single stair as I power slide down the ice covered staircase. I tried desperately to grab onto something to keep me from sliding the entire way, but my efforts were fruitless. (Like anything I do could ever be "fruitless".) Finally coming to a hault at bottom of the stairs, I had to take minute to recover. Once the initial shock passed, the pain set in and I just laid there. After a minute had passed and the pain subsided a little, I stood up to survey the damage. One of the Crocs had flown off my foot and was upside down in the snow about a foot in front of me. My hot pink bed linens were strewn about the staircase. I had snow all the way up my back, under my shirt. Snow had even been shoved up my pant legs. My ass hurt more than a blind date with a leather daddy and my right arm and hand were scratched and covered in splinters. My entire head was throbbing from the eight stairs that it had bounced off of. Needless to say, the stairs kicked my ass.

I took a minute to make sure nothing was broken. I'm sure I looked fabulous limping around my back porch, moaning and groaning with every step. I wasn't rolling around on the ground like Scarlett, but I was making the same sounds. The only thing I could think of was "I wish someone had that on video." Or at least seen it happen. Nope. No one. It always makes it better when someone sees you hurt yourself. It makes the pain a little more bearable when someone is pointing in your face and laughing.

Alas, my broken ass and I were all alone. I slowly gathered my dirty laundry and continued on my way down to the basement. I started the washing machine and headed back up toward the scene of the accident. Looking back up at the icy stairs that beat me like I didn't have dinner on the table in time, I became very angry. The adrenaline from my fall was still pumping, so I grabbed the broom that we keep under the stairs and began to clean the steps with a violent fury. When the snow was cleared and only ice was left, I grabbed my downstairs neighbors' windshield scraper from outside their door I began chipping away at it like a drunken coal miner with a plastic pick axe. I was surprised that I was clearing the steps as intensely as I was. I had just fallen down an entire staircase. Once the thought entered my head, the pain overwhelmed my adrenaline rush. I had to sit down.

I went back into my apartment, sat on the couch and started to feel like an old man. For the rest of the night, every time I got up to move, I groaned like an old man. Every time I found a comfortable position, I sighed liked an old man. Every time I walked back down to the basement to finish my laundry, I walked down one step at a time like an old man. Those icy stairs had stolen my youth. I was destined to be an old man with a sore back and broken ass for the rest of my life.

Then I smoked some weed and everything was fine. Thanks weed!

Can. Not. Wait.

2009-01-21T09:10:00.003-06:00

Tonight is the night, bitches!

Finally, LOST is coming back with it's fifth season. I am so excited, I have been throwing up in my mouth and swallowing it again all day. It could me from all the NyQuil I chugged this morning for breakfast, but I'm going to blame it on excitement. Yeah... excitement.

*SPOILER ALERT, bitches.* How will the Oceanic 6 get back to the island? How did Locke die? Where is the island? When is the island? Why doesn't anyone's hair grow? How did Mr. Friendly score that hot piece of Hispanic man ass?

These questions and more to be answered tonight at 8/7C on ABC. They really should hire me for their advertising division. I'd be awesome.

Mr. President

2009-01-21T08:36:00.005-06:00

Yesterday, in case you missed it, Barak Obama was sworn into the office of President of the United States. Awwww, snap.

His speech was wonderful. It was eloquently filled with digs on the outgoing President and his administration. Nothing says inauguration quite like dissing the retard you're taking over for.

Michelle Obama looked like a bitch most of the day. When she wasn't trying to hide her teeth that could bit an apple through a picket fence, she was giving the stink eye to the closest white woman. I love her.

Of course, the ceremony hit it's high note when the legendary Aretha Franklin took the stage to sing "My Country Tis of Thee." And it wasn't because of her singing. It's because her hat was...
Grrrrl better feel it. After the inauguration, Ted Kennedy had a stroke. Always trying to steal the lime light, those Kennedy's. Don't worry. He's not dead. Just lazy on one side of his body.

As the day progressed, President Obama (I like the sound of that) and The First Lady (that should be my title) went to 48 different Inaugural Balls. (*Insert testicle joke here.) And let me tell you, Barak's Inaugural Balls were beautiful. So many people turned out for his Balls. His Balls were attended by many celebrities. Everyone loved his Balls.

I'm done. Hail to the mutha fucking chief, ya'll!

Hail Holy Queen

2009-01-21T08:16:00.003-06:00

No, not me. Although, you should recognize.

I was outside the other day when I heard church bells playing "Hail Holy Queen" nearby. "How in hell does Sawyer know a church song," you ask. It's from my many years at the seminary, of course. Puh-lease, I know it from Sister Act. I'm pretty sure that every self respecting gay on the planet knows that song from Sister Act instead of from church.

Anyhoo, I heard the song, it reminded me of the performance in the movie, so I downloaded it onto my iPod as soon as I got home. I have been rocking out to some Whoopi in a habit, hiding from mobsters.

Love the old ladies in this. And how the troubled youth come into the church when they hear the heavenly music coming from inside. And let us not forget Kathy Najimy big ass hitting those opera notes. Grrrl better feel it. I never knew Peggy Hill had those kind of pipes.

If U Seek Sawyer

2009-01-15T09:20:00.003-06:00

Kitten Conference '09 took place this past weekend in St. Louis. If you don't know what a Kitten Conference is... that's why you weren't invited.

Basically it is a reunion of "The Aunties", a group of four friends that are scattered about the United States. There is Auntie Poodle (that's me), Auntie Pepper (J'Nell), Auntie Piglet (James) and the original Auntie... Auntie Grundle (Avery). We get together for one night of drinking, dressing up and debauchery. This year, only three of us could make it... Auntie Grundle was definitely missed. We created a shrine in her honor.
One of the highlights of the conference are the performances. The video above is a perfect example of what I'm talking about. We each take turns. We pick out a costume and a song and then rock the shit out of it. I've been asked not to post anyone else's performances... even though they were awesome. (Pussies.)

I hope you enjoy my rendition of Britney Spears' next single "If U Seek Amy." I am gorgeous in it. Keep an eye out for the "tuft" to make an appearance.

Oh, Shit!

2009-01-15T09:12:00.000-06:00

I know. SICK. But you have to admit, that is a pretty impressive turd.

This photo was taken approximately six months ago. If I recall correctly, I had eaten a lot of Chinese food the day before. Lemon Chicken and Crab Rangoon if memory serves.

If you examine my feces closely (nice), you will notice that one half of it is very bumpy and rough. That part came out first and it kind of hurt... and not in the good way. The second half was a lot smoother and was actually pleasurable to push out. The kind of push where you have to vocalize it's release with a loud grunt. This is getting weird...

The reason why I'm posting this turd is because although it is amazing in shape and size, it doesn't come anywhere near what came out of my ass last weekend...

I was in a hotel in St. Louis when this beast reared its giant head. It didn't hurt... it just took forever. You can't tell, but that turd goes at least another 8 inches down the drain. I believe this fecal matter (nice) was created by a day long diet of Gardetto's, Grundle Pie and blueberry vodka. I'm sure the 6 hour bus ride I took to St. Louis helped in the formation of this loaf.

After I took the picture, I went to flush this behemoth down. All it did was spin around. I was afraid that I was going to have to chop it up just to get it down the commode. Luckily for me (and the hotel hanger) it broke in half and went down all on it's own.

Now some of you (probably most of you) are wondering what kind of sick bastard takes pictures of his poop and then posts said pictures on his blog. Let me start by saying that I don't take pictures of every dump I take... only the super human bowel movements like the two above. Secondly, you cannot tell me that you have never taken a dump that you were proud of and wanted to show to someone else. If you can say that... then you're lying. And lastly, I suffer from fecalphelia. This is my healthy way of expressing my fetish. It's a hell of a lot better than shitting on a glass table.

A lot easier to clean up after, too.

AYDS

2009-01-14T13:05:00.002-06:00

Ah, AYDS. So much better than AIDS. Oddly enough, AYDS helps you lose weight just like the fancy AIDS we have today. Old school AYDS let's you "taste, chew and enjoy." That's amazing!

Best line... "AYDS helped me get back to a size six." Thanks AYDS!

I Meet Awesome People.

2009-01-13T08:33:00.000-06:00

Oh, Patty. Not "I sell buttons because I have AIDS" Patty either. This is Patty with her fox fur hat. She told me she wears it because her hair is falling out and the hat helps her feel beautiful.

When she first walked into the bar, everyone I was with started staring at her. I was the only one ballsy enough to go up and talk to her. I introduced myself and asked her if their was anything I could get her. "A cab," she said. My immediate response was, "I wanted to buy you a drink, not a ride home." "A Cabernet," she clarified. I'm so stoopid. Of course she wanted more booze. Her slurring words and crooked eyes weren't anywhere near as bad as they needed to be.

So we had a couple drinks. I warmed her up to getting her picture taken. Then we moved up to video. If I had kept going, I could have had her in a porno snuff film by the end of the night. I settled for some dirty dancing...

Watch out Beyonce... here come Patty. She loved me. I loved her. We both loved her fox hat. Oh, Patty.

Black Jesus

2009-01-01T17:31:00.000-06:00

He's like the real Jesus... only blacker.

I don't know if you guys have ever seen this shit before, but it's funny. It's a comedy short off of The Boondocks on Adult Swim.

It's nice to know that Black Jesus is real. They have video documentation of his existence. Proof. Show me this white Jesus that we're all supposed to worship and fear at the same time. Where is that cracker? Those religious types keep telling me that I have to find Jesus. Well, Black Jesus found me. So there. He wins.

I'll follow the preachings of Black Jesus any day. He's one smart Jesus.

It's All In A Name

2009-01-01T17:00:00.004-06:00

So many babies, so little Sawyer.

I received a call from my long time friend, Michael, today. He and his wife, Marsha, and I all went to high school and college together. They are the kind of friends that I don't get to see very often, but we always pick up right where we left off. Michael and Marsha are a year younger than me and they just celebrated their 10th wedding anniversary. Crazy, right? They have just recently discovered that they are pregnant with their first child. I know. Crazy, right? They got married at the age of 19 (even though she wasn't pregnant), stayed married for a decade (even though they didn't have any kids) and are now just starting to add to their family. Crazy.

So I get this call today from Michael. He wanted to call and wish me a happy new year and let me know that they had gone to the doctor and found out that they were definitely having a boy. Oh, and one more thing... they're going to name it SAWYER! GET OUT! Crazy, right?

Now before any of you assholes say "Maybe they're naming it after the guy from LOST," let me stop you. I've known these two since I was 16 years old; that show hasn't been on that long; my name has always been Sawyer; don't be stoopid.

I'm a namesake. That is just crazy to me. Think about the pictures. Me and mini-Sawyer. I can't wait. He will be the heir to my fortune and carry on my legacy. By that I mean he'll inherit my debt and have to update my blog for me. That lucky little boy! On second thought, that poor little boy. What's going to happen when he realizes that his parents named him after a chubby, hairy, loud, bitchy faggot? Oh, well, he'll get over. Either that, or just hate his parents forever and just go by his middle name. I think they said it was going to be Irving. Or was it Bernard? I can't remember.

Anyhoo... Congrats Michael and Marsha! And most importantly... congratulations to me!

Ring It In Grandpa

2009-01-01T16:32:00.004-06:00

Happy New Year, Bitches!

2008 is dead and gone and now we have a brand new 365 days to fuck up. Isn't it an empowering feeling knowing that we have a full year to do absolutly nothing with? Ah, I'm drunk on power.

That would be all I'm drunk on. Let me explain...

I made arrangements at my job to work the evening shift on New Year's Day. I did this with the knowledge that if I worked my normal shift starting at 7:30 a.m., I would die or just show up wasted, having never gone to bed. Arrangements in place, I went home and ordered some dinner. A little after 8:00, I decided to lie down for a quick nap to recharge my batteries before a long night of drinking.

Around 9:30 p.m., my roommate woke me from the couch and told me what time it was and that she was leaving. I laid there for a few more minutes waiting until she left to get up and get ready. However, I never heard her leave. I never got up. I never got ready. Instead, I dreamed that Carrie Bradshaw and I were bitching about having no one to kiss at midnight. Eventually, Carrie looks at me and says, "If you want someone to kiss at midnight, you'd better get up and get ready...NOW!"

My eyes popped open. There I was, alone on the couch in my pajama pants in the dimly lit living room of my apartment. (Carrie must have left.) I grabbed my phone off the coffee table. It was 12:05 a.m... Happy New Year!

I rang in the New Year, on my couch, bitching about my lack of mouth action in a dream to Sarah Jessica Parker's horse face. I'm so pathetic, I didn't even watch Carson Daley drop his ball in Times Square. Grandpa slept through New Year's.

But I have to say, I'm all kinds of refreshed for 2009. That makes it okay, right? *single tear*

b.a.b.i.e.

2008-12-26T12:55:00.003-06:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you, Mr. Miles Joseph Langford. a.k.a. Sawyer Baby McLangford Junior. Or as Auntie Renee likes to call him... BOYRA.

Isn't he adorable!!! I know, I know... he looks like a baby. All babies look alike. Blah, blah, blah. But Miles here, he gorgeous. Mainly because he was born by C-section so he didn't have to rub his face against Megan beat down vagine. No one wants that.

Word from St. Louis is that he has a tuft of curly red hair on his soft little head. Too bad this cute little baby is going to grow into sun-fearing ginger kid. Next thing you know, he'll be roaming the woods at night, feeding of the blood of small animals to quench his unending thirst for murder. Until then, ain't he precious!?!

Thanks Megan and Woobie for creating yet one more night walker for us to fear.

They Deserve It

2008-12-26T12:46:00.002-06:00

This is beyond awesome. I am not a fan of squirrels solely because they are the devils minions put on Earth to ruin my life. This is not animal cruelty. Those fuckers deserve it.

I wish this catapult was strong enough to launch them back to the seventh layer of Hell from which they came. I hate squirrels. I hope some of them died or, even better, were horribly disfigured. Like their tail got inverted up their ass and now they have a weird bump on their stomach that all of the other asshole squirrels make fun of. Maybe they broke their leg and couldn't run from a predator. Some snake just took his time while he slowly ingested that hairy bastard. God, I hope something more horrible than death happened to those furry spawns of Satan.

Gosh, I really don't squirrels, huh?

Jesus Christmas!

2008-12-25T15:02:00.002-06:00

I would like to wish the baby Jesus a very merry Kwanza by dedicating this beautiful video to him... our Lord and Sawyer... err, Savior. I read somewhere that baby Jesus enjoys homos singing personalized Christmas songs about African American leather daddies. But then again... who doesn't?

Merry Christmas to all the stoopid bitches that actually read this shit. I love stoopid people. They're easy to steal from.

Please send me money... or just buy me stuff.

HE'S HERE!!!

2008-12-23T22:28:00.003-06:00

No picture yet...

But Sawyer Baby McLangford Junior is here, ladies and gentlemen.

He was surgically pulled from his mother's loins around 7:30p.m. on December 23, 2008.

I hear that he was covered in placenta and is a healthy, beautiful, baby boy.

Let the world rejoice!! He has come! Forget about Jesus... Sawyer Baby McLangford Junior has arrived!!!

*Insert happy gay Auntie with Mommy here.*

Nice job, Mommy! I love you Megan!

Congratulations to Megan and Woobie McLangford!

That baby is going to be an asshole... and Auntie Sawyer can NOT wait!

Talk About A Dreamsicle

2008-12-22T11:33:00.002-06:00

Earlier at work today, I was given a menu to proof read and type out when I came across a dessert called 'Orange Creamsicle Cake." Uncertain on the spelling of 'creamsicle', I googled it. The correct spelling came up as did this delightful picture.

I'm going to assume that this is fake. Why would Breyer's, or any ad agency for that matter, allow this to be a printed ad for a delicious frozen treat? I know when I think of eating a creamsicle, I am not thinking of two little girls' grundles in leotards. That's just sick. Who wants to relate a delicious ice cream treat with bald adolescent snatch? Not me. Now, if it was two little boys in those unitards, that's a different story.

I'll never look at a creamsicle the same way again.

3 Useless Bits

2008-12-20T05:08:00.003-06:00

1. In the 1800"s, book were segregated by the sex of the author.

It was so you could find both of the books that were written by women faster. Get it? Women only had two books. Girls are dumb.

2. Hawaiians once used coconut husks for toilet paper.

I heard that Hawaiians have hairy asses. The coconut husks must have kept their dingle berries to a minimum.

3. Your heart beats faster during a heated argument than it does during sex.

That is why I would much rather fight with you than fuck you. That, and your crabs make me itchy. Oh, yeah, and I hate you. (I win.)

Francois / Whitney

2008-12-20T04:55:00.002-06:00

Oh, Francois. Oh, Whitney. Poor Dolly.

I love me some Francois Sagat. I love me some Whitney Houston. And I will always love me some Dolly Parton.

However, I feel that Dolly's giant tittied ass would roll over on her own breast implants if she saw this gay shit.

Sometimes... when I'm all drunk on a Saturday morning, I hunt for dirty Francois Sagat videos. I came across this beautiful three way of the naw-sty shots of Francios accompanied by the luscious voice of Whitney singing the religious words of Dolly.

This is for all the gays, their hags and anyone else that gets off to a hot foreign dude's photo compilation that is accompanied by Ms. Houston.

No judgements. Just grab your store bought lubricant, open your eyes and push one out for Sawyer.

Holler. Louder.

That Poor Vagina

2008-12-19T15:02:00.002-06:00

Michelle Duggar has done it again. This Mormon bitch spit out her 18th kid on December 18th. The 18th on the 18th... A Christmas miracle! (Mormons celebrate Christmas, right?)

Whatev's. This bitch's pussy has got to look like a bowl of spaghetti. Her shit hangs out like someone hit her in the crotch with a weedwacker. What I trying to say is... her pussy beat down. The babies probably just shoot right out of her like they're on the flume ride at World's of Fun.

The entire Duggar clan is straight up hillbilly. For starters, they have 18 effing kids. Each one of them has a name that starts with J. I'm surprised they don't have one named Jesus. (Mormons believe in Jesus, right?) But the best part is the husband/dad's name is Jim Bob. Michelle might as well be his sister. Jim Bob sounds like the name of a guy that would fuck a chicken and then brag about it.

I feel bad for women that aren't able to conceive even one child. Having to see this bitch flaunt her clown car of a vagina all over the media has got to be tough on barren chicks. I knew if my vagina was dried up and useless, I'd be pissed at Michelle Duggar and her fetus slot machine. Boo fertile chick.

Stop being such a whore Michelle Duggar. We are all aware that Mormons are creating an army to overthrow the religious right, but you don't have to birth an entire unit all on your own.

Quit fucking, you baby machine.

Follow Your Dreams

2008-12-19T12:53:00.002-06:00

Some of you may not know this but... I have always wanted to be a six year old girl that collects Barbie mermaids all whilst soaking my hoo-ha in the bath tub.

And look at me now!

Just know that if you follow your dreams, you can become anything and eveything you ever wanted to be. Shoot for the moon. That way you know you'll land amongst the stars.

Love This Bitch...

2008-12-18T10:58:00.007-06:00

Or should I say, "Love These Bitches." Charles and Max Carver. Ginger twins. Meee-ouch. Double the ginger, double the cum.

Normally, ginger kids scare me. Gingers at any age. I actually have a couple of friends who are full grown gingers. Even though they are my friends, I am still terrified of them. Afraid that they could attack at any moment. Legend has it that gingers walk the Earth at night searching for the melatonin that was stolen from them. They feed off the skin of really tan babies. They're evil. Anything that can spontaneously cumbust when it comes into contact with direct sunlight must be evil. But that's beside the point. Let's talk about the dirty things I would do to the Carver twins.

Charles and Max play Preston and Porter Scavo on Desperate Housewives. Last year they were little kids around 11 years old. They were sexy then, but now they're almost legal. Which makes them a little less sexy, but at least now they can produce semen. The show jumped ahead five years so the once young Scavo twins are now the sticky sweet 16 years old mens seen above.

I am well aware that I sound like a child molester. Years of dead baby jokes and sexual intercourse with toddlers might lead people to think that. However, Charles and Max Carver have got to be old enough. Most actors that play teenagers are older than their characters in real life. And if they aren't... so what? It's just pretend molestation.

I like this video because it really drives home why they would benefit from a little sweet daddy bear action from good ol' Sawyer...

See their mouths? Their lips are all sexy like, just askin' for some baby pin dick action. Sweet daddy bear Sawyer can give them that. *woof!* This is getting a too gay, isn't it? (Like that's even possible.)

Allow me to grunt one last time. Oooooh, Charles and Max Carver... I love these bitches! *grunt*

Old Home Video

2008-12-17T13:21:00.000-06:00

I made this home video a couple years ago in Missouri. I was still a stand-offish when it came to admitting my homosexuality.

I must admit, however, I hid it very well, don't you think?

Where The Boys Are

2008-12-16T14:11:00.001-06:00

Oh, 22 Clark Street Bus, Route 761, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

There's the cute blonde that gets on at the Starbucks with his red messenger bag and high tight ass. The shaggy haired Itailian with his barely-there goatee and bright blue eyes. Or the team of three young professionals that get on with their fitted p-coats, designer scarves and yearning mouths. All of you, along with the countless other cute boys that ride my bus in the morning, I have something to say to you...

Yes, I am staring at you on purpose. Yes, I am cruising you at 7:00 AM. No, I did not just lick my lips and stare at your crotch simulataneously by accident. You make every morning worth while and I want to thank you for the endless supply of spank bank material.

Seriously, every morning I see the same five guys that make me wanna do illegal things. Not because they are too young (which they probably are) but because fillating someone on a public bus is probably against the law. I have even named my fave five. First, there is 'Starbuck' (self explanitory), then 'Guapo' (I know it's Spanish and he's Italian, but I'm not racisist) followed by 'One', 'Two' and 'Three' (the numbers don't correspond with the invivdual, just the order that they get on the bus that day). I feel that I should name then seeing as how I practically date rape them in my mind every day. Some mornings, two or three times. There have even been a couple of orgies on that bus.

There must be something about that particular route at that particular time of day. I'm not joking. Delicious boy candy everywhere. I ride the same 22 Clark Street Bus home everyday and no one looks nearly as surprise sex-y. There are a bunch of old Hispanic women and a group of mentally disabled people. I'm still not joking. Not one fuckable man-gina the entire ride home.

That's why I usually grab a seat, pull my bookbag up to my chest and sleep. I sleep so I can dream. I dream about the ride to work that morning. I dream about all the sweet man ass as it shakes to "If U Seek Amy" by Britney Spears. Did I mention they're dancing? Well, they are. There they are dancing and shaking their asses in tightly fitted boy short (in December) all while waving and blowing kisses at me while I sit in my giant pink and silver thrown. Yes, there's a thrown on the bus... and it's all mine. The 22 Clark Street Bus, Route 761 is my kingdom. And all those sweaty men's dancing to Britney, they are my queens. HAAAAAAY!

I love you 22 Clark Street Bus, Route 761... I honestly love you.

Freak of the Week

2008-12-16T13:08:00.000-06:00

Meet Stalking Cat. His real name is Dennis Avner. Dennis is widely known as the "Catman" even though he prefers his Native American name, Stalking Cat. Can you blame him? "Catman" is so barbaric and tacky. Stalking Cat has spent considerable resources to surgically modify his body to resemble that of a tiger. Here are just some of his over forty surgeries he's had to make him such a sassy kitty...

* extensive tattooing, including facial tattooing.
* hairline modification.
* facial transdermal implants to allow the wearing of whiskers.
* facial subdermal implants to change the shape of the brow, forehead and the bridge of the nose (a planned future implant on the top of his head for mounting tiger-like ears).
* filing and capping of his teeth to have a more feline appearance.
* wearing green contact lenses with slit irises.
* having his ears surgically pointed and the earlobes elongated.
* silicone injection in the lips, cheeks, chin and other parts of his face.
* bifurcated upper lip.

I never would have guessed he'd had anything done. He looks fabulous. So much more sheik than Jocelyn Mildenstein, a.k.a. The Cat Lady... she just beat.

Here's a video of Stalking Cat saying pretty much the exact same thing that I just wrote. I should have just told you to watch the video and then you'd be done by now. Instead of continuing to read my run-on sentences and redundant statements, you could have clicked on the video below and been done with it. But, no. I had to keep writing, and writing, and writing...

Here Kitty Kitty.

2008-12-16T11:12:00.000-06:00

Sometimes when I'm drunk I find odd things that I want to blog about. I usually copy and paste the picture/story onto a page that I will edit later, because trust me when I say, that drunk blogging isn't as funny as it sounds.

Today, I was going through some old post that were yet to be published when I cam across this beauty. I have no idea where I found; if someone sent it to me; if the blogging fairy rewarded me with it. Wherever it came from... I love it...

"Equipment:
1 cat in heat
1 Q-tip

Procedure:
Grab wailing, squirming cat and place it on your lap with its hind quarters readily accessible. Chances are the cat will freely offer them, if not the first time this procedure is followed, then certainly each time afterward.
Insert the Q-tip into the cat's vagina. It will be exposed and puffy. Do not insert the Q-tip into the other orifice. Either way the cat will begin to scream, but there is a subtle and audible difference in the scream of satisfaction and the scream of rectal pain. Experiment a little until you can distinguish the two.
Move the Q-tip in and out of the cat's vagina slowly at first, then more rapidly. No need to be gentle, no matter what you do with the Q-tip it beats a barbed cat penis digging around in there.
You are finished when the cat is finished. You will know when the cat is finished because it will either begin immediately to have a cat orgasm, or it will run away with the Q-tip sticking out of its ass. If this happens let it enjoy itself for a few minutes before attempting to retrieve your Q-tip.
That is it, you are done. Enjoy the peace and quiet until the cat flares up again.

What to look for: The cat orgasm that follows this procedure is something the likes of which I have never seen elsewhere. It is a wriggling, leaping, moaning dance of ecstasy that defies any experience of pleasure my mind can even begin to grasp. If humans had orgasms with the intensity of a cat serviced in this way there would be no such thing as war, hunger, capitalism or God.

Background: A cat in heat is, with few exceptions, one of the most irritating things to have living in your home. A cat in heat will follow you around and howl at you in a bone chilling, hideous wail until you are ready just to toss it outside and let it get pounded by the local tom's. After a few days of this torture having to drown a few kittens sounds relaxing. This cat-saving technique was first demonstrated to me by a terminally un-squeemish roomate of years past."

I know! There is so much to comment on, I think I might explode.

First, the visual of me holding a cat down while I shove Q-tips into it's "exposed and puffy" vagina is as terrifying as it is hilarious. I like how the author feels the need to explain that "there is a subtle and audible difference in the scream of satisfaction and the scream of rectal pain." If anyone knows that, it's me. Even better, the author invites you to "experiment a little until you can distinguish the two." Not in my pussy you won't! You better know what your doing before you get down there. I don't need a novice shoving bleached cotton into my exposed and puffy vagina!

Some other fantastic quotes:
"No need to be gentle, no matter what you do with the Q-tip it beats a barbed cat penis digging around in there."
That's been my motto for years.

"If humans had orgasms with the intensity of a cat serviced in this way there would be no such thing as war, hunger, capitalism or God."
Quick! Someone get me a Q-tip and a towel... this is going to be messy.

"...you are ready just to toss it outside and let it get pounded by the local tom's."
What about the Dick and Harry's? Or the hairy dicks? Whatev's. I'm apparently like a horny cat because I'll take it any way I can get it.

"After a few days of this torture having to drown a few kittens sounds relaxing."
But seriously, when isn't it relaxing?

If any of you know where I got this, let me know. I have got to give credit where credit is due. Not only did someone take the time to sexually satisfy their cat but then they write a helpful how-to on the subject. It's all very Girl Scout to the rescue, don'cha think?

Gotta go now. I need to call my roommate and ask her to count how many Q-tips we have left. It's going to be a bust night.

Oh, Daddy!

2008-12-16T09:15:00.002-06:00

Duke sent this video out with the title "Adorable video of Lil' Deadra." If you knew Deadra, you would laugh at the similarities. It's a short clip from a movie called "Child of Rage." Apparently later in the movie, she burns their house down and kills her little brother. Sounds like my kind of movie. I'ma Netflix dat shit.

When I saw this the first time, I laughed so loud that people keep asking me what it was. I won't show them because it makes me feel dirty, just like the real Deadra makes me feel.

I bet you that Sweet Daddy Bear's dick looked huge in her tiny hand. I love her last line. "...because I'm so hot." Yes you are, Lil' Deadra, yes you are.

Hate This Bitch...

2008-12-10T09:19:00.002-06:00

The Grinch that stole Christmas... I hate that bitch.

Don't think that I hate him for the obvious reasons like he was mean or cruel. I don't hate him because he ruined Christmas for all the Whos in Whoville. Fuck those Whos. The were all deformed with massive overnbites. And what were those things coming out of their heads? I don't hate the Grinch because he was so mean to that little dog of his. I hate dogs, but not the people that are mean to them. I actually give ol' Grinchy props for treating that dog like shit. The little bastard probably pissed all over the Grinches nice clean cave. Dogs are assholes and I'm sure that one is no exception.

No. I hate this bitch the Grinch simply because he is just that... a bitch. He had gotten away with stealing every last present in Whoville scott free. No one saw him except that nosey brat Cindy Lou and she still thought he was Santa. Take the loot and pass the blame. But noooooo. That green bitch had to feel the joy of Christmas and let his heart grow three times too big. Now he's a pussy and has weird growth on his chest. He could have cashed in on all those presents. Whatever he didn't want he could have sold on Ebay. Talk about a Christmas bonus. That bitch could have been rolling in it.

I hope you enjoy celebrating togetherness and love with all those deformed retards down there in Whoville. You mushy little green bitch. Bah-humbug.

The Grinch... I hate that stoopid bitch.

3 Useless Bits

2008-12-10T08:25:00.003-06:00

1. Cockroaches have white blood.

And here I always thought it was always their guts that was that white stuff that came out when you crushed them.

2. The longest recorded flight of a flying squirrel is 2.5 miles.

Now they attack from the air? Why wasn't I informed of this?

3. The skin on the soles of your feet is called the "stratum corneum", which is Latin for "horny layer."

Awww, yeah! Lube up those arches and start fucking my feet. Do it.

You Said It...

2008-12-09T21:04:00.003-06:00

"I don't believe in God because I don't believe in Mother Goose."

-Clarence Darrow

You said it, Clarence!

For all of you that do believe in the God, I'm sorry. Not for saying that he has as much influence on reality as an old slut that lives in a shoe, but I'm sorry you believe in fairy tails. But let's save your anger for Mr. Darrow, shall we?

In 1924, Darrow was the defense attorney for the case of Leopold and Loeb, two rich teenage sons of two different rich Chicago (of course) families, who were accused of kidnapping and killing a 14-year-old boy just to see "what it would be like to commit the ultimate crime." Darrow got them to plead guilty so they would "only" have to serve life in prison instead of the alternative: the death penalty. Darrow won the case; if you consider sending your clients to life in prison as a win.

He later worked on the Scopes Trail defending a teacher that was accused of teaching evolution in public schools. At the time there was a law that made it illegal to teach "any theory that denies the story of the Divine Creation of man as taught in the Bible, and to teach instead that man has descended from a lower order of animals." The case was ultimately thrown out due to lack of evidence against the defendant, put was still considered a driving force in the separation of church and state.

Darrow went on to be an author of several autobiographies as well as a full-length one-man play about his career that was eventually turned in a feature film called "Inherit The Wind."

Darrow was well known for his wit and agnosticism. Anyone that is funny AND doesn't believe in a higher power is the kind of guy I want to burn next to in hell for the rest of eternity.

Awww, Lookit...

2008-12-05T11:23:00.004-06:00

Look ya'll. K.Lo learned to play the flute.

That's right, I said it. K.Lo is a walrus.

K.Lo and I have had our differences in the past. Like whenever I'm awesome, he sucks. (Which is all the time.) We have a very yin and yang relationship. I'm good and he's evil. (If you can believe that.)

Last weekend a group of homo's went to see the movie "Milk." Of course we did. We're fags. Anyhoo... After the movie we were leaning up against the glass window of a store waiting for Duke to pay for parking when suddenly K.Lo starts laughing and gesturing towards James. Next thing I know, James is laughing too and pulling out his phone to take a picture... of me. I couldn't figure it out. Was there something on my face? No. Was someone behind me? No. Then what was it? I walked towards James and K.Lo and turned around to see what was so funny...

That's right. K.Lo and James thought it was sooooo funny that my fat ass was standing in front of a Weight Watchers. Ha, ha, ha. Of course James has the Weight Watchers sign perfectly centered with me pointing at it while K.Lo laughs at me. Of course. If you look closely, you can see how my finger is blurred from shaking it at the sign while I yelled, "Oh HELL no!"

Too bad James didn't take a video, because right after this I turned around and started bitch smacking the shit out of K.Lo. I open hand smacked him like he was a one night stand I met on Craigslist.

I'm sorry, but when someone says something mean to me... it is NOT funny. It is only funny when I am mean to other people. Why is that so difficult for people to understand?

I'm not worried though. I'm sure karma will come back around and K.Lo will get his ass kicked by Hat Dancer again sometime real soon. Oh, what? Did I forget to mention that K.Lo got his ass kicked by the little twink that's always dancing with his hat at Berlin? Yeah, well, Hat Dancer and K.Lo got into a little tussle a couple weeks ago and K.Lo got schooled. I believe he is banned from Berlin... for life.

That's what you get for making fun of Sawyer. I will make someone get in a fight with you two weeks prior and have you banned from the 4am gay bar... for life!

That's a little somethin-somethin I like to call "soap opera revenge."

Gimme More Francois

2008-12-05T07:56:00.004-06:00

The shirtless gentleman singing Britney Spears while brushing his teeth is Fancois Sagat. Yes, that is a tattooed hairline on his head. Yes, he's hot. And, oh yes, he is my favorite porn star.

The other night I was perusing the videos on Pornotube, looking for something to enhance my "alone time", when I came across this gem. Unfortunately, I couldn't use the link from Pornotube because it's not appropriate for the work place and my computer blocks all things porn related. Luckily, it was on YouTube as well.

So there I was, lying in bed, ball gag in place, looking for just the right mix of frat boy fisting and water sports when I came across this beauty. The title was "fancois sagat gimme more". Anyway you read that, it's sounds like good watchin'. I clicked on it expecting to watch Monsieur Sagat doing what he does best... getting pounded in the ass like a whore that owed someone money, and liking it. So you can imagine my extreme delight when I heard Britney start singing "Gimme More." Then something magical happened. As Francois brush the teeth in his cock ravished mouth, he turned to the camera and began to sing along. As he spit toothpaste everywhere I realized that my metal codpiece was getting tighter... if you know what I mean. *wink* *wink*

I hope you enjoyed watching sweet Francois' sing-along. But I hope you enjoyed the thought of me wearing a metal codpiece and a ball gag whilst jacking off to it even more. There's a mental image that's going to ruin someone's day.

I used the word "whilst."

ATTENTION: Sisters on Facebook

2008-12-04T13:19:00.004-06:00

Oooooooh, someone's gonna get a disapproving letter sometime real soon. And like *Nsync said, "It's gonna be me."

My sister requested to be my friend on Facebook. We had talked about it while we were on vacation in Pennsylvania for the holiday. I told her that it was probably a bad idea since all of my friends are assholes. (And you are so don't even get upset.) I thought that would scare her away. Alas, she requested me the day we got home and even sent a follow up "why haven't you accepted me yet" email.

I caved and accepted her. I looked at her page and quickly realized that my other sister had started an account and the two were already writing to each other. It's a little disheartening when you see both of your older sisters on Facebook when you yourself are beginning to feel too old to be on a "social network."

I know that eventually they will see a picture that shocks them or read a comment that will offend them. The picture will be of me shitting on something and the comment will be about what a filthy, faggoty bitch I am.

I'm cool with that. It's not like they think I am a patron saint or anything even remotely close to one. But then I remembered that I had a link to this blog on my page. (Insert high pitched, shrieking scream here.) I say some fucked up stuff on this bitch. If you don't believe me, read the entry right after this one. Forcing a pregnant baby to have an abortion... that's fucked up. Seeing as how they are way more conservative than I am and they have young children themselves... they might have a little trouble finding the humor in it.

I know this because a little over two years ago my sister's looked up my MySpace page and reacted quite strongly. They were so upset with the contents of my page that they wrote me the following email...

"michael,

we were looking at your myspace page and have some concerns. we notice how negative you are and were wondering how you plan on seriously meeting people when you are saying all those hateful things. also, we would like for you to take the pictures of us off of your page. we just feel abit weird having our pictures associated with all that hateful stuff. dawn also wants the picture of lindsay off. she doesn't like having her daughters picture on the internet. i would really think about having mom and dad's pics on there too. we are pretty sure that they would not be happy to have their pics on myspace, especially in uniform. we aren't trying to piss you off, but this is how we feel with all the weirdos out there.

jill & dawn

ps. don't reply to this email b/c we sent this from dad's email."

And yes, I saved the letter for over two years. It was stored in the file marked "FUNNY." This letter made me so mad that I deleted the contents of my MySpace page and wrote "censored" all over. It wasn't until later that I realized I could set my page to private so those nosey bitches couldn't judge me. The part that pissed me off the most was at the end when they say "don't reply to this email b/c we sent this from dad's email." Apparently they get to be all judgey-wudgey and I'm not allowed to write back "mind your own business" or "don't stifle my art." No, I'm supposed to succumb to their wishes and censor myself like a good little brother.

But this time, I invited them in! What have I done? What will they say? How harshly will they judge me? Will I be shunned? Will I be excommunicated from my family? What will they think of me?

Oh, wait. I forgot. I don't give a fuck.

They're bound to find out what a sick, twisted bastard I am sooner or later. I mean, if I am going to be a reality TV star, they're going to have to get used to being embarrassed by their douche bag baby brother.

Sorry Dawn & Jill. I hope you'll still invite me to your home for the holidays when we're old since I will have no one to love me because I am such an asshole.

But, hey, that what families are for. We are family. I've got all my sisters with me.

Can I Borrow $500?

2008-12-03T13:33:00.003-06:00

Seriously...could someone loan me $500? Ya see, I kinda got this baby pregnant and we have decided to terminate the pregnancy before it's too late.

I met this baby out one night and we really hit it off. We went out a couple times. One thing led to another and then the next thing I know, I'm getting a phone call telling me that I "should have pulled out sooner." The nerve of that baby. Telling me over the phone like that. I think that is the kind of conversation that deserves a little face time, don't you?

Anyway, the whole "get the baby wasted and push it down the stairs" trick didn't work, so we've decided to follow the way of Satan and suck and chop that baby's baby out.

I'm going to stop now... I've begun to offend myself.

Sorry to all the pregnant babies out there. And to all the dead fetuses too. "Sucks" to be you.

I'm stopping now.

Sick.

2008-12-03T12:33:00.004-06:00

I love America and I'm real happy that Michael Phelps won all those shiney medals in China and everything... but this picture is sick.

Sports Illustrated (or SI as we straight dudes like to call it) named Michael Phelps as the "Sportsman of the Year." I guess that's a big deal? I concur with SI. I think Mr. Phelps deserves this distinguished honor. Being able to swim freakishly fast should be rewarded. However, could that picture be any more fug? I mean, come on. His teef is giving me greif. Someone Photoshopped his face to look even more ogre-esque. I'm having trouble deciding what to stare at more... his giant eyebrows or his wonk eye. The lighting make his right ear look like it sticks out more than it already does. That wet tux just does not look very comfortable. And he's not wearing a Speedo. Seriously... this cover is shit.

Michael Phelps isn't the best looking man in the world, but give me a break. He has his moments... like this one...

Meee-ow!

Sure his face is a little covered up by his goggles and all you can stare at is his junk in those tiny shorts... but it's a hell of a lot better picture than that shit SI put on the cover.

I hope someone gets fired over this. And I hope their unemployment sends them into a downward financial spiral that ultimatly leaves them bankrupt. Then they'll become homeless and eventually turn to alcohol to help kill the pain. After a few years of living in an alcoholic coma, they'll die alone in an alley where another homeless person will sodomize thier dead body. That what you get for putting this shitty picture on the cover.

Too harsh?

The Most Important Day of the Year

2008-12-02T09:47:00.003-06:00

Happy 27th Birthday to my one true love; the light of my life; the cream in my frappe. That's right bitches. It's Britney's birthday. A day that will live in infamy.

Today we are celebrating the birth of the world's greatest entertainer. Her new album "Circus" drops today and she performed on Good Morning America. Her Mom and both her boys were there cheering her on. Awwww. Reconciliation is fun.

She performed "Womanizer" again... same lazy 'walk and pose' shit she did in London. She also performed her new single "Circus." The video debuts Friday on Entertainment Tonight. Holler.

But here's the real good news boys and girls... she officially announced the launch of an all new arena tour tour starting in 2009. Hell's yeah. For those of you that don't know... I have attended every world tour that Miss Spears has had. I had to travel to Chicago - twice - (before I lived here) to see her in concert because the bitch fell down the night before the venue and had to reschedule the concert. But that is neither here nor there. What I'm getting at is tickets for her new tour go on sale this Friday, December 6. She will be performing at the Allstate Arena here in Chicago on Tuesday, April 28, 2009.

Golly, I sure would like to go. I wonder if anyone out there loves me enough to buy me tickets, rent a limo, arrange for backstage passes, pay for dinner and drinks and then do me in my fruit cake afterward? I wonder? (I hope you guys know how to take a hint.)

Anyhoo... Happy Birthday Britney. I'm going to Best Buy after work to purchase "Circus" and I trust the rest of you will follow my lead. Oh yea, and don't forget to buy me stuff. And by 'stuff' I mean 'two tickets to Britney Spears new tour.' Do it.

Grrrl, You Betta Work.

2008-12-01T13:06:00.003-06:00

Britney has had a very busy week. This bitch has been all around London performing "Womanizer" on all kinds of TV shows. As always, Miss Spears performed "live." And by "live" I mean she was breathing during the performance, I'm just not sure if she was actually singing... but that's part of her charm.

First she performed at the Bambi Awards...

The dancing in this performance is the strongest out of the three. Pretty sad, seeing as how she mostly walks around and poses. But I'm not complaining... at least she's sober.

The she was on Star Academy... whatever that is...

I liked this one because she had a pretty dress on and she danced in front of a fan. I like dancing in front of fans. Makes me feel famous. This was my favorite all-around performance. Even though it wouldn't have hurt for her to take the top hat off and flip her hair a little. Just a little. We wouldn't want that weave coming loose.

And finally she performed the same song - again - on X-Factor...

I like the fancy intro. Simon Cowell doesn't fuck around. I like how Simon used to say she was a crack head (which she was) and now he's giving her standing ovations because she is so super awesome (which she is.) She still seems crackishly nervous afterward. She was probably drained from performing three times in four days. Poor thing.

All in all, Britney had a busy week. But that is just the beginning. Her album drops tomorrow, bitches. December 2, 2008. Which also happens to be her 27th birthday. So buy the CD, eat some birthday cake and fag the fuck out.

We'll Call Her "Anny"

2008-11-21T12:50:00.006-06:00

O. M. FUCKING. G. ya'll.

You will never believe this. I offended someone.

I'll give you a moment to soak that in. I know, I know... that is so unlike me. What came over me? (Besides that Latino's man snot.)

I was checking out some of the comments that were left during my little hiatus and I came across a real gem. A while back, I wrote about what a cunt rag Elisabeth Hasslebeck is. You know, the cum bucket, republican, neo-Nazi whore from The View. Well, someone just did not care for the cross words I had for Mrs. Hasselbeck.

Here's the comment that was left...

"Anonymous said...
I have met Elisabeth a couple of times, one of those times was at a run for a breast cancer charity. She is an extremely nice person. Save your hate for someone who deserves it, people such as murderers, terrorists, etc. Elisabeth never did anything to you, stop using so much energy to be so hateful and jealous
November 2, 2008 4:59 PM"

I KNOW! I laughed out loud when I read this. I really hope that someone I know wrote this. And I hope that they're serious. That is just too fucking funny.

Let's dissect this... shall we?

For starters, they're anonymous. Anonymous means one of two things. One, they're too lazy to log into Google. Or, two, they straight up skerred of the Sawyer. I'm betting on the latter.

I'm guessing that Anonymous is female because only a bitch would defend a bitch. Any dude, gay or straight, wouldn't give a fuck.

I think it's really great that Anonymous(let's call her Anny from now on) volunteers her time to a great cause such as breast cancer awareness. But I'm pretty sure that Elisabeth does it to fill her kiss-ass quota for the year. She probably has to donate and volunteer otherwise she get the shit taxed out of her come April 15th. All rich bitches do shit like that. They donate time and money to a worthy cause so they can write it off as a deductible on their income tax. That, and I'm sure Elisabeth loves making public appearances where d-bags like Anny can kiss her ass and tell her how wonderful she is for taking time out of her busy schedule.

Now, as far as "saving my hate for someone that deserves it"... Elisabeth Hasselbeck deserves it. She is a right-wing, conservative dumbass that doesn't know what she is talking about most of the time. If there is anything worse than an ignorant Republican, it's an ignorant Republican with a daytime talk show. I like how Anny tells me to save my hate for "murderers, terrorists, etc." I'm pretty sure that Elisabeth is a member of Al-Qaeda. That would make her a terrorist. And seeing as how terrorists kill people, that would make her a murderer too. I guess that answers that, huh?

Moving on. I like how Anny gets all attack mode at the end. "Elisabeth never did anything to you, stop using so much energy to be so hateful and jealous" (No period.) Elisabeth did plenty to me. She keeps doing that breathing thing that I wish she would stop. She dissed the most powerful lesbian in the galaxy. AND she is bonafide shitty douche nozzle. So there. When it comes to "using so much energy to be so hateful," don't worry Anny. I am fueled by hate. It doesn't take a whole lot out of me point out what a twat clot Elisabeth Hasselbeck is. And what's with the whole "jealous" thing? Really? I do not think so, Miss Thing. The only person I'm jealous of is Jesus. And that's only because the man can turn water into wine... you feel me?

One last thing. Anny wrote this to me on a Sunday afternoon. Now I'm pretty sure that Sunday is considered the day of rest. So why not try that Anny. Give it a rest.

Ooooh, snap!

Love This Bitch...

2008-11-21T12:12:00.000-06:00

I love me some Kimmy Gibbler.

And I'm talking straight up old school Kimmy Gibbler. Back in the day before she discovered a flat iron. Back when she was more creepy than kooky. Back before there was hair... down there.

Kimmy was DJ Tanner's best friend and neighbor on Full House. I don't know why I just informed you of that. If you don't know who Kimmy Gibbler is... you're a terrorist.

I love Kimmy Gibbler first and foremost because her last name is Gibbler. Whoever came up with that name is a friggin' genius. Secondly, I love Kimmy Gibbler because she pushed poor Stephanie Tanner into a life of meth addiction. How rude! And the third reason why I love Kimmy Gibbler is because she wanted Uncle Jessie's dong just as much as I did. Uncle Jesse was hot. I'm not talking about Uncle Jesse during his mullet years. Gross. Kimmy did everything short of dropping to her knees and servicing his schlong while Comet rimmed his ass.

Oh Kimmy Gibbler. She has one of those names where you have to say the first and last name. Kimmy Gibbler. I love you.

*BONUS VIDEO*
Anything that incorporates Kimmy Gibbler and Britney Spears is a-okay in my book.

One Hell of a Party

2008-11-21T12:00:00.005-06:00

Sorry ya'll.

I just got so excited that Obama won the election that I got shit faced and passed out... for three weeks.

Don't laugh. I could get that drunk. I've done it before. One time, I blacked out for a whole month. I woke up in the bed of a truck in Arkansas. I had a sore ass and I was missing a chunk of hair from my head.

What can I say? It was one hell of a christening.

V. to th' O.T.E.

2008-11-04T12:57:00.007-06:00

Today is the day we've been waiting for. Today we crown Barack Obama as the new Jesus. Our savior!

Almost everyone I know has either voted early or voted this morning. I didn't have time to go this morning because my stoopid job requires me to be here before the ass crack of dawn. I will, however, be braving the lines of voters at the St. Augustine Community College today after work.

I'm scared. Aren't community colleges where gangs go to learn?

Make sure you cast your vote today and blow McCain's geezer ass out of the water. Make sure he takes Gidget's slutty ass with him.

By the way, if you are still torn between the Republican and Democratic parties, you can always write in a candidate of your choosing. Might I strongly recommend the Sawyer/Spears '08 ticket. Great things could happen. Like impromptu dance routine and costume changes. Sounds like fun to me.

I Do Awesome Things.

2008-11-04T12:38:00.004-06:00

CAUTION: frat boy, baseball junkie, d-bags might be offended by this. If you are one of those that are offended... What the eff are you doing reading this faggotty blog?

For Halloween, me and my posse went to the Harry Carey Tavern next to Wrigley Field for their "Villains & Heroes" party last Friday. I dressed as 'The Pumpkin King.' It was pretty lame except for the fact that I had a jack-o-lantern full of candy corn that I was throwing all night. That, and I shoved it into Harry Carey's gapped-toothed, stone face.

I had those candy corns in there for quite a while before security came up to me and informed me that there were several people in the bar that were offended by the way I was defacing such a sacred statue.

Whatev's. I don't even know who Harry Carey is or what he did to warrant having a bar named after him. All I know is straight dudes don't like it when homo's shove candy corn in his statue's mouth.

Especially when they pose like assholes next to it.

Oh No, K.Lo!

2008-11-04T10:17:00.009-06:00

I know a guy named K.Lo and he is really good at being an asshole. He will be the first to admit that he suffers from social retardation. He does a fantastic job of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person. I think we might have secretly been separated at birth. The two of us were once compared to two sweaty walrus' getting into a tusk fight.

A group of us got together this past weekend to drink and be gay. (Two more things that K.Lo and I have in common.) We all met up over at James and K.Lo's house where we enjoyed some delicious pear vodka cocktails. It came time to leave and as we were heading towards the train K.Lo asked me if I knew where I was going. I answered him, "Yes, of course." To which he replies, "Why's that? Is there a Weight Watchers meeting right next to it?" Ya see folks, K.Lo was implying that the only reason I knew where the train was was because I'm fat and attend meetings at the adjoining space. When in reality, I knew where the train was because it is less than a block from their house and I had taken it on my way there. Remember that tidbit about K.Lo's social retardation? That is a perfect example.

For the rest of the night, I swore off K.Lo. I kept my space and didn't talk to him. It wasn't until the end of the night when people were leaving for home that I found myself alone with him. We were the final two out of our group still at the bar. Since it was so late in the evening, we were both highly inebriated. We began talking to each other, trying to decide whether or not we should go to another bar, when out of nowhere, some guy walks up to K.Lo, calls him a 'faggot', smacks him in the mouth and runs out the door. Now, this was not some dainty homo smack, this was a straight up hate crime smack. K.Lo calmly asks me to hold his drink, hands it to me and then runs out the door after him.

I set both our drinks down and quickly follow. By the time I got outside, K.Lo had the guy on his back on the sidewalk straddling him. Normally, this is a position that I'm used to seeing K.Lo in with a stranger, but this time it was different. It was different mainly because K.Lo was punching this guy's skull into the sidewalk. I walked over to him and half-heartily tried to get K.Lo off this guy. But he was in the zone and I was rather enjoying watching, so I allowed him to continue.

I stood back and watched the scene for a couple minutes. It was fun watching K.Lo slap this guy in the face while continuously asking him, "Who's the faggot now, bitch?" After a while K.Lo let him get up off the sidewalk only to slam him into a nearby car once or twice. When I heard the police sirens, I decided fun time was over. I grabbed K.Lo and informed him of the impending police presence. He got one more good smack in and I led him to a nearby cab. We got in just in time for an uniformed officer to come up to the window, shine a flashlight on K.Lo told him to "get out of the cab, now."

We returned to the scene of the crime where every fag, lezzie and homeless man in the area was chiming in with their two cents. People were pointing at K.Lo and telling the police "That's the guy!" Needless to say, it didn't take long for K.Lo to be in handcuffs. (And not the sexy kind.) At the beginning, four police cars were there. After five minutes or so, three of them departed to fight real crime while a team of two female officers stayed to find out how this hair pulling contest started.

I had already come to terms with the idea of K.Lo going to jail. I mean, he did call me fat earlier... he kind of deserved it. Then I realized, I wouldn't have anyone to come with me to the next bar. I walked over to the nearest police woman, introduced myself and explained to her that I saw the entire thing go down, from start to finish. I explained that I didn't know either one of them, but I had been standing next to the tall guy (K.Lo) when the little guy came up to him, called him a 'faggot' and hit him in the mouth for no reason. I explained from what I had seen, the big guy was sticking up for himself and the other guy got what he deserved.

Less than a minute later, they took the cuffs off K.Lo and we were headed to Charlie's for some more drinks.

Now, K.Lo can be an exceptional d-bag a lot of the time. But that night, at that moment, he was awesome. I had to explain to him just how amazing the whole thing was because he was so drunk he couldn't even remember how it started. And the fact that they let him go, that could be considered "Sawyer Worthy" on "The Scale of Awesome."

We were at Charlie's for about ten minutes when K.Lo started making out with some gapped tooth Mexican. Now that's the drunk d-bag, socially retarded, man whore that I've come to know and love.

Fall Back

2008-10-31T16:00:00.000-06:00

Don't forget to set your clocks back one hour at 2:00 AM on Sunday!

That means we get a whole extra hour of binge drinking on Saturday. Oh, yeah. Mikey likes it.

Make sure you make the proper adjustments before you got to bed on Sunday, because - God forbid - you don't want to show up an hour early for anything on Monday.

Way To Contribute...Again

2008-10-31T09:58:00.005-06:00

Wow guys. Ignore me once, shame on you. Ignore me twice, you're a dick.

I thought I would give this whole "Finish This Sentence" thing a second try. Well, I think I better think about thinking again. The first time I tried this interactive entry, I had two responses. That's it. Two. Well, saints be praised, this time I had a whopping - wait for it... wait for it... - two responses. That's it. Two.

That's really sad. I even changed the settings of my blog so anyone can leave a comment. Anyone. You don't have to sign in. You can even leave your comments as anonymous. And still, none of you lazy bastards care enough to finish my sentence. Well, screw you guys. I'm still going to name a winner, even thought none of you care. *tear*

First Runner Up / Last Place for the second time in a row is...
JAMES with his response:
* Sawyer was so drunk he "grew feelings."

I'm sorry you lost again James, but this is just not true. This could never happen. I have never had feeling nor will I ever. Don't get it twisted. If you think I care, it's only because I have nothing better to do.

And the WINNER is...
THE CAPTAIN with his response:
* Sawyer was so drunk he "took my sister's water bottle and threw it out the front door of the Burgundy Room."

The Captain goes on to explain...

"My sister turned 21 on a Monday nite in Springfield, so I took her to the Burgundy Room for D.J.P and $5 cup nite. By midnite she was drunker than a busload of Indians and was sitting by the front door nursing a bottle of water. In walks Sawyer, visibly intoxicated, sees my sisters and says “What do you think you’re doing?” She drunkenly tries to explain her situation but Sawyer is too drunk to understand her. He proceeds to grab the water bottle out of her hands, chuck it out the front door, and screams “Suck it up, bitch!” And my sister proceeds to slump forward and pass out.

I also seem to remember him drunkenly trying to poor booze into my sister’s open mouth while she was passed out, but that may have been another lucky lady on a different nite."

Now, unlike James' response, this could have happened. I don't remember it, but it totally could have happened. I was doubtful until I read the part where I said, "Suck it up, bitch!" Then I knew it had to be true.

Once again, I want to thank all of you that submitted an answer to this installment of "Finish This Sentence"... both of you. If (and I mean IF) I attempt another installment of "Finish This Sentence", you bitches better represent.

Holler Bitches.

Hate This Bitch...

2008-10-31T09:45:00.000-06:00

Ugh. Jimmy Fallon. I hate this bitch.

Back when he first came onto Saturday Night Live, I thought he was cute. Unfortunately, seeing as how SNL is a comedy show, he wasn't very funny.

He came on the show right after Adam Sandler left. He filled the spot by doing the exact same shtick. Playing guitar, making stoopid voice, being a douche... it had already been done. Don't even get me started on how he laughed through every single sketch he was in. I'm not exaggerating... every single one. I would be pissed if I had to work with him on a live sketch comedy show. Assholes that constantly laugh and break character drive me crazy. It ruins the entire bit and puts all the focus on them and their inability to perform. *whew* I told not to get me started.

Needless to say, I am not looking forward to this d-bag taking over Conan O'Brien's spot at Late Night. Conan is replacing Jay Leno (thank God) on The Tonight Show. I don't watch a lot of late night television, but when I do, I want that shit to be funny. David Letterman is funny. Conan O'Brien is funny. Jimmy Fallon is NOT funny. He's not even humorous. He is so not funny, I won't even give him credit for trying. He is a bastard.

I would thoroughly enjoy beating this shit out of Jimmy Fallon. Just 'cuz.

Jimmy Fallon... ugh. I hate this bitch.

BOO!

2008-10-31T08:02:00.002-06:00

And I'm not talking about my boyfriend or the cute little autistic girl from Monsters Inc.

I'm talkin' Halloween, bitches!!

Halloween is one of my favorite days out of the year. Right after Christmas and my birthday. I know my birthday isn't an actual holiday... but it should be.

Expect the unexpected. The FedEx guy just dropped off a package at my desk and he was dressed like a clown. Can this day get any kookier? I saw an ugly girl on the train this morning and she was dressed up real crazy like with her face all painted. I don't think she was dressed up though... I just think she was stoopid.

I hope everyone has a safe and scary day. Eat lots of candy and drink lots of cocktails. I will be rocking the camel back full of gin tonight. So if you see a giant, drunk pumpkin coming towards you, it's me... and you should run in the opposite direction.

Happy Halloween!!

Shouldn't Have Opened It

2008-10-30T09:30:00.000-06:00

Oh, James.

You want me to hit you. Is that it? I don't understand why you make me hurt you. If anyone asks you where you got that black eye from, you tell them you fell down. You understand me? Don't make me hit you again.

So, James thought it would be funny to poke fun at my boo, Britney. He made one simple statement in one of his blog postings and it got me a little riled up. Something about my "crazy ass puppet" and how he "probably shouldn't have opened that can of weave." You're right James... you shouldn't have opened it.

For those of you that don't know... I don't respond well to such attacks. If James makes fun of my grrrl, I'll make fun of his. Trust me, it is not hard to make fun of his. Watch out. It's about to get ugly.

It is plain and simple. Bjork is crazy.

Seriously. She is a nickel throwing, swan wearing, reporter punching, dark dancing, bat shit crazy, Icelandic retard. *whew* That's a mouthful.

James tried to make me get into her music when we first met. I tried, but I just can't understand how the inaudible ramblings of a crazy woman is considered music. The music itself is the equivalent to a diapered baby sitting on the kitchen floor banging on pots. (I told you this would get ugly.)

Winona Ryder impersonated her on Saturday Night Live a while back and pretty much summed up Bjork's method of making music...

Other than her "music" she has other despicable attributes. For example, attacking a reporter because she welcomed her to Bangkok...

Now I'm sure James will retaliate with comments like "Britney's music isn't even real music" and say her songs are "mainstream pop bullshit". He'll probably even talk about how she went crazy, shaved her head and attacked someone with an umbrella. All those things said... I'm still right. Britney is better than Bjork. She's sold more records, she has her own doll and she's from America. So, therefore, a vote for Bjork is a vote for terrorism.

Suck on that James!

You Said It...

2008-10-30T09:19:00.000-06:00

"If Michelangelo had been a heterosexual, the Sistine Chapel would have been painted basic white and with a roller."

- Rita Mae Brown

You said it, Rita Mae Brown!

Straight folks don't know how to paint nuthin' purdy. The Sistine Chapel is pretty effing gay. However, Michelangelo wasn't the gayest ninja turtle... Donatello was.

Rita Mae Brown was born November 28, 1944 and is considered to be a prolific American writer. She is best known for her first novel Rubyfruit Jungle because it dealt with lesbian themes in a way that was unheard of for the time.

Brown became a political activist in the 60's focusing on topics such as the American Civil Rights Movement, the anti-war movement, the Gay Liberation movement and the feminist movement. She participated in the Stonewall riots in New York City and help to create National Organization for Women. Basically, she did a lot of "gay pussy power" work.

She is still to this day a very busy author. Since the 90's Rita Mae Brown has "coauthored" with her cat, Sneaky Pie Brown. That's right, her cat. Might I add, Sneaky Pie Brown = amazing name. Together they have created a mystery series starring the character Mrs. Murphy. Mrs. Murphy is a cat. A cat that solves mysteries. Yep. A few titles from the long running series: Murder, She Meowed, Claws and Effect and The Purrfect Murder. I know what going on my winter reading list.

With all of her "accomplishments" aside she has done some truly amazing things. Things like: going down on tennis player Martina Navratilova; scissoring actress and writer Fannie Flagg; muff diving socialite Judy Nelson and finger banging politician Elaine Noble. Ms. Brown has chomped on some pretty impressive box in her day.

With all this talk about pussy cats and power dykes, I think I've reach my quota for lesbian praise... for the year.

Drunk Squirrel

2008-10-30T07:36:00.004-06:00

I hate squirrels. More than hate hate hetero PDA. And I really hate hetero PDA.

Tim showed me this video last night, thinking that I would find it funny because the squirrel was drunk. Sure it's kind of funny and I like drunk things, but, like I said, I hate squirrels. They scare me... and for good reason.

The whole time we're watching this drunk squirrel fall down, I'm waiting for it to attack the camera man. You would see the camera fall to the ground. You would hear the blood curdling screams of the man as the squirrel chews through his throat. The video would end with blood splashing across the screen and the sound of the squirrel giggling with joy as the man drowns on his own blood. When drunk mammals get angry, there is no reasoning with them.

That, and squirrels are evil.

Sweaty Folds Turn Her On

2008-10-29T08:45:00.004-06:00

Meet Claudia Solis. She digs fat dudes.

Claudia married Manuel Uribe this past weekend. Claudia wore a beautiful strapless gown and a tiara while her groom donned a white, silk shirt and a bed sheet. A bed sheet, you ask? That's because Uribe is the world's heaviest man and has been confined to his bed for the last six years. They had to drive his ass to the wedding in a flat bed, for fat's sake.

The truck was brought in to tow his custom-made bed, which was beautifully decorated with a canopy, flowers and bacon, to the wedding. Police cars had to escort him ahead of a long line of traffic. Where's the 'Wide Load' sign?

Uribe used to weigh 1,230 pounds back in 2006, making him the Guinness World Record holder as the world's heaviest man. Since then he has lost about 550 pounds with the help of his chubby chasing bride, Solis. Uribe wants to break a new record as the world's greatest weight loser.

I don't see why they don't just slap his fat ass on The Biggest Loser and let Trainer Bob go to town on that ass. (I'd let Trainer Bob go to town on my ass any day.)

But back to the new bride. That makes me want to vom all over her pretty dress. How do they even do it? How can she find his dong under all that? What if she gets stuck in there? I hopes she uses a safety line. It's like pulling Carol Anne out of the vortex in Poltergeist. She comes out all dazed and confused, covered in purple jelly. Sick.

Mad props to them finding love and all that shit. But, I'm sorry. If a guy that effing fat can get some, where the fuck is my wifey? I'm so hard up, I'd even settle for a woman. Sticking it her would probably be the equivalent of sticking it in one of Manuel's folds filled with jelly.

I'm done. I'm making myself sick.

A New Twist

2008-10-29T08:35:00.003-06:00

Here's a new twist on an old joke...

Q: How do you make a 4 year old Republican cry twice?
A: Wipe the blood off your dick with their Sarah Palin doll.

When I was little, I had a Cabbage Patch Kid doll. I named her Sarah. I am not joking. She was a 'newborn'. The ones that were a little smaller and had a bald head. I named her after my cousin, Sarah. I just liked the name.

But if I knew then what I know now... I would have murdered that baby.

I can't help but feel responsible for the terror that has fallen upon the Cabbage Patch Kid community. Look what my baby doll grew into.

I'm so ashamed.

Don't look at me.

Freak of the Week

2008-10-28T08:22:00.005-06:00

This week I wanted to explore the wonderfully permanent world of branding. The jackass above was apparently going for the do-it-yourself look. And might I say he has done a very nice job of it. I must also add that it is a nice touch that you can see the glass bowl and can of duster on the table behind his arm. Now we know what he used to numb the pain while he brought the pain. I'm not sure if it's necessary to write the word 'pain' when burning something into your flesh. I would think that is implied in the burning.

This job looks like it was done with a pyrography tool called a wood burner. (What? I'm not allowed to have hobbies that I picked up in the Boy Scouts?) People who sear their flesh willingly are nuts. Cowboys brand cattle all the time and the cows don't look very happy about it, do they?

I knew this crazy fucker in high school that heated the metal part of his Bic lighter and then shoved it into the skin between his pointer finger and his thumb. He said he did it because he thought the head of the lighter looked like a smiley face and he wanted to brand himself with it. Did I forget to mention that he was a crack head? Yea, he was a crack head.

I know when I burn myself with my flat iron, it smarts. I just can't imagine burning myself on purpose. Especially if I was going to burn the word 'pain' into my forearm with a wood burner. Now, if it was a burnt silhouette of Britney Spears on my back... then yes. And only because that would burn all the hair off.

Love This Bitch...

2008-10-27T12:00:00.001-06:00

I love me some Chunky Pam... Chunky Pam she am.

I came across this video a long time ago and I fell in love with this bitch. She all upper middle lower class, rocking her Jersey roots. Any big grrrl that likes to rub on her mons all the while rapping about chicken wings is my kind of thug.

Now I know that it isn't quite yet the Christmas season, but "XXXLMAS" is the kind of song your can enjoy any time of year. Perhaps you might be in more of a Valentine's Day frame of mind. Chunky Pam has got you covered...

She is a gangsta rapper for any season. Grrrl always has a Hostess cupcake in her videos... Now, you gotta love that. Maybe it's just my inner big grrrl, or my outer big boy, but I would split a honey glazed ham with this bitch any day.

No Surpirse There

2008-10-27T08:23:00.000-06:00

Really? Rednecks for McCain. There's a shocker. And not the good kind.

That must make the Republican party so proud to know that they are backed by a group of uneduacted, inbred bigots. Good for you.

That d-bag is so happy to be flaunting his hillbilly status. Hey, Cletus! Why don't you and yer kin hitch up the wagon and head on back down to the bootheel where the cow pies are a'plenty and your sister's always up for a pokin'.

Dumbasses like this guy are the one's that put stoopid people in power because the have that country twang, believe in God and they won't stop fightin' till all the terrorists are dead.

Republicans make me angry.

And I Quote...

2008-10-25T08:11:00.003-05:00

Poor Jennifer Hudson had a horrible thing happen in her life. Her mother and her brother were both shot and killed in their home in Chicago. To add insult to injury, her 7 year old nephew is missing. The police are considering this to be an extreme case of child abduction. I call it an extreme case of "Holy shit Jennifer Hudson! Your celebrity killed your family!!"

All sick and uncalled for joking aside... this is some fucked up shit.

When I heard the news the first time, I was shocked. Adam told me about it last night. In my drunken stupor, I said something about Estelle Getty and/or Bea Arthur being dead. To which I heard the most disturbing/amazing reply...

"I would rather Jennifer Hudson's entire family be dead than Bea Arthur."

All hate mail can be directed to Puke Balden, c/o Get The Fuck Out Of Town Before They Find You Incorporated.

Run Puke, Run!

I Meet Awesome People.

2008-10-24T10:38:00.002-05:00

Is that Wendy Ho hoin' it up on the streets of Chi-town?

James and I were drunk (go figure) down in Boystown (go figure) a couple weeks ago when we came across this lovely young thing. I love her. She's always outside of Cocktail shaking her cup asking for "donations for people living with AIDS." I usually ignore her, but that night... grrrl, that night she was on fire.

James and I thought the same thing at the same time... Wendy Ho.

I know Wendy is prettier, younger, richer and has has less AIDS. It had to be the fro that fooled us. As soon as James took the picture, he tagged Wendy on Facebook with the caption, "She stole my pussy."

If you don't know what I'm talking about... well, time for some learnin'...

Get it? She stole my pussy. Get it? I thought it was funny.

In fact, I thought it was so funny I laughed that weird wheezing laugh that makes me sound like my Dad. I laughed so hard some lady got all upset because she thought I was laughing at her. I laughed so hard a little pee came out. I laughed so hard, I farted... which made me laugh even more. It was pretty funny.

Back to the Wendy Ho impersonator. James and I loved her so much, that we grabbed Norwejohn, Duke and Adam for a group photo.

I love how Duke is holding her hand. Totes cutes. Aren't we a cute little family? We took her home with us. She been a little ornery lately. I think it's because the shackle has been cutting into her ankle. I keep telling her, "If you would just quit trying to escape, we'd untie you." But does she listen? No. We have to keep chasing her down and shocking her into submission. Geez.

I'm only joking. I don't have an old, blonde hippy in my basement.

I keep her in the garage.

Wait For The Eyebrows

2008-10-24T09:35:00.000-05:00

(Thanks James)

Oh my.

I don't even know where to start. Wow.

Okay. First of all, is that grrrl retaining water or what? Looks like someone has a glandular problem. I wonder if he's even real. He kind of looks like a muppet. A muppet filled with cream cheese.

This song is called "Cuppy Cake." I now know what my husband and I will be dancing to at our wedding. And I want this kid to sing it live so I can slap his little bitch tits.

I love the "yummy, yummy, yummy" part. It was so yummy he ate it three times. I also love how he has a small seizure/bout of Tourette's when he talks about gum drops (0:15).

And the eyebrows... my god the eyebrows at the end. I couldn't handle it. It was too perfect. It looked almost painful for him to move them. They're probably the only part of his face that isn't stretched too tight to move.

I'm sure a loved one taped this, thinking it was so adorable. "Oh, look at little Timmy singing the 'Cuppy Cake' song. He is so cute. Too bad the chemo treatments are having such horrible side effects. *sigh* He'll be dead soon."

Whoever broadcast this on YouTube probably had no idea I would get my paws on it and rape the innocence right out of it. You like that Cuppy Cake boy? Take all of that.

The Big 100!

2008-10-24T09:09:00.000-05:00

Oh my god, ya'll. This is my 100th post. This is a milestone. We should get a cake or something. And by 'something,' I mean 'more cake.'

I just want to take this opportunity to thank my Mom and Dad for having sex in the afternoon to conceive me. Thanks to all the things in this world that piss me off and make me bitch and moan aimlessly. A big shout out to my grrrrl Britney... You are my muse. I want to thank God for not existing. But most importantly, I want to thank you, my mindless minions. Without you, none of this would be possible. Thank you for having nothing better to do with your time than read the ramblings of a bitchy fag. You have served me well and you will be rewarded in the next life.

Now hurry up and drink your Kool-Aid and arsenic. I don't have all effing day.

Priceless Funk

2008-10-23T20:41:00.001-05:00

I wish I was this cool when I was little.

Hell, I wish I was this cool now.

Get LOST

2008-10-23T14:13:00.002-05:00

Oh, snap!

Lookit ya'll! My jam's back.

Oooooh, the Oceanic Six have to go back to the island. But they don't know where the island is because Ben moved the island when he turned the big donkey wheel. Hurley's all crazy, Sayid's been killing people, Sun has gone Chinese fucking stoopid, Kate and Jack are all fighting, Aaron still looks like he has down's and Locke is dead! How are they gonna pull this off?

I can't wait. I'm almost as excited as when Britney debuted "Womanizer" on 20/20. That night, I wet my pants a little. I have witnesses.

Grrrrl... I can't wait to get LOST!

And by the way... to all the haters out there. I did not steal the name "Sawyer" from this TV show. That's just stoopid.

Hate This Bitch...

2008-10-23T12:12:00.000-05:00

Meet Elisabeth Filarski. I hate this bitch.

I know what you're thinking... "Why do you hate this little freak show of a girl?"

The answer to that, my friends, is an easy one. It is because that dorky bitch turned into this cunty bitch...

Once you've stopped screaming and spitting at your screen, take a moment to breathe and remember thay you must save your anger until you see her in person. Then you can really spit on her.

For those of you who don't know Elisabeth Filarski Hasselbeck... she's a bitch. She is a Survivor 2 loser. Her hair started to fall out due to malnutrition. Boo-hoo. Then she married a football player. (Whatever that is.) And now she is one of the co-hosts on The View. I'm still confused on her credentials for the position.

I hate this bitch. I hate how she has an "S" in her first name. I hate all of her conservative/right wing opinions. I hate how she blossomed from an ugly duckling. I hate how she keeps making babies. I hate how she fought with Rosie. (The gays love Rosie.) I hate her voice. I hate how stoopid she is. I hate her roots. I hate her.

Whew! I feel better now that I've gotten that off my chest. Now if only I could stab her through hers.

Elisabeth Hasselbeck... I hate this bitch.

Scary Enough For Ya?

2008-10-23T09:25:00.006-05:00

Guess who the top selling political mask for the Halloween season is so far?

You guessed it. The scariest thing to hit Washington D.C since Mayor Marion Barry got caught smoking crack with an undercover police officer playing the role of junkie prostitute. (Where'd that come from?) The Republican VP candidate, Sarah Palin, is finally number one at something, besides being a stoopid bitch. She's usually number two. Get it? Number two. Like poo. A.K.A. Heather Way (Catch her on Facebook... she's fascinating.)

Back to Sarah Palin and her scary ass face. What's the deal with the Jay Leno chin on this hooker? The real Palin is actually attractive. This masks makes her look like she should be flying over the sea catching fish in her gullet. It looks like she has elephantiasis of the jowels.

It has been said that the candidate whose mask sells the most is a valid prediction to who is going to win the election. I have a feeling that is not the case this year. This year I think the best selling mask will predict who everyone thinks is a big effing joke.

That would be you, Governor Palin. Don'cha know?

Finish This Sentence...

2008-10-23T09:18:00.000-05:00

Let's try this again, bitches.

Last time, the turn out was pretty pathetic. Let's try just a little bit harder this time or else I will pull this blog over and make your lazy asses walk.

It's simple. I give you the beginning of a sentence and you write the ending. Don't eff it up.

"Sawyer was so drunk he..."

This one should be very easy.

The Last Suck-icorn

2008-10-22T14:35:00.001-05:00

My old roommate, Jackie, and I sat down one evening to watch "The Dark Crystal." Neither one of us had seen it for a very long time. Once the movie was over, Jackie suggested that I put "The Last Unicorn" on my Netflix queue. She said that if I loved "The Dark Crystal," I would love "The Last Unicorn."

So, I took her suggestion and put the movie on my queue. Yesterday, randomly, it finally arrived. I asked my new roommate, Heidi, if she would like to watch it with me. I told her that Jackie had recommended it. Since she was friends with Jackie as well, she was game.

Well... Jackie is an idiot.

Not even thirty minutes into the movie, I almost nodding off on one side of the couch while Heidi was asking, "How long is this?" on the other. It was terrible. The animation was shit, the vocal talent was shit, the script was shit, the music was shit... "The Last Unicorn" was shit!

For starters, the first 15 minutes of the film is of the last unicorn standing on a hill in a beautiful forest. She talks to a butterfly. Then she stands on the hill some more. The dumb ass animal doesn't even realize that she is the last of her kind because she spends all god damn day standing on this hill. Maybe she's so stoopid because she has horsey down syndrome. At least she looks like she does.

Eventually she get the eff off that hill and goes on a quest to find the other unicorns. She meets some not-so-interesting characters, becomes human, blah blah blah... she find and saves the other unicorns. Ta-DUH. Lame. The only part that caught my attention was when this magician got tied to a tree. The tree came to life and had giant pink, tree titties. That's it. Everything else was a bust.

The movie boasts about it's voice talent including Angela Lansbury, Alan Arkin, Jeff Bridges, and Mia Farrow as the unicorn. Ooooh, and the original score was performed by the band America. Yikes.

That was the title song. Awesome, huh?

I just had to get this off my chest because "The Last Unicorn"'s despicable existence was eating me alive inside. If any of you ever have the chance to partake in this urinal of a film, don't do it. Repeat after me:

"Just say no to 'The Last Unicorn.' Jackie is stoopid. So stoopid."

I'd Die For CBS

2008-10-22T10:49:00.003-05:00

Wow. I never knew Jeff Probst was such a sick fucker. (I'd still stick it in.)

Porbst has hosted "Survivor" for over a decade and has now created a new reality show for CBS about terminally ill patients living out their last wishes. Neat! The show is called "Live Like You're Dying." Awkward. Probst will host the show that will feature people that are knocking on death's door and will send them on last adventure before they kick the bucket.

Probst says that the show isn't meant to be morbid. It's supposed to help others who aren't sick to live life to its fullest.

Well then, what happens when the little kid with the terminal heart condition that wants to ride Space Mountain at Disney World has a massive coronary? Death = Ratings. Face it. Why not just line up a bunch of dying people, ask them trivia questions and shoot whoever gets the answer wrong? Last one standing wins that experimental surgery that just might save their life! Ooooh, Aaaah!

What happens if someone gets on the show, gets to have their great adventure, and then doesn't die? The producers are gonna be pissed. "We took you skydiving in the Andes and you don't even have the decency to die before we air the episode. The audacity!"

I smell another reality hit for CBS. Or is that the smell of people dying? I can never tell the difference.

You Said It...

2008-10-22T10:22:00.000-05:00

"It's a good thing I was born a girl, because if I had been born a boy, I'd have been a drag queen."

- Dolly Parton

You said it, Dolly!

Dolly Rebecca Parton was born in the Tennessee hills on January 19, 1946. She is a country music singer/songwriter, author, actress and philanthropist. She has 26 number-one singles and a record 42 top-10 country albums. Basically, this hot bitch owned the music industry. She is known for her no-nonsense business style and her giant tits.

I've always liked Dolly. A few months ago, my friend, Bethany, wanted to celebrate her birthday by attending a Dolly Parton concert as well as a trip to Dollywood. I was more than happy to oblige her. We went to see Dolly in concert at the Chicago Theater and she was awesome. She sounded amazing and looked even better. She even thanked "all the Polynesian girls that donated their hair to make (her) wig."

The next day we drove to Dollywood. And let me tell you what. It was Disney World meets "Deliverance". More hillbillies than you could shake a stick at, but it was fun. There was even a museum there dedicated totally to Dolly. It showed picture from her whole life, had her famous outfits on display in glass cases, and even showcased her 17 different breast augmentation surgeries.

Love me some Dolly. I hope I'm still kickin' when I'm 112 years old. Grrrl got the hair, got the legs and sure as a pig is happy in shit, she's got the tits.

"The Ugly Law"

2008-10-22T07:34:00.001-05:00

I was reading my crapper book (the book I read while I'm shitting - just in case you needed clarity) called "Uncle John's Bathroom Reader" and I came across an interesting tidbit of information. There was a list of laws that were ridulous like: "In Kentucky it is illegal for politicians to give away booze on Election Day" and "Exploding an atomic bomb in Chico, California is punishable by a $500 fine."

All of them were odd, but there was one that caught my eye because it was a Chicago law. It read: "It's against the law in Chicago for "exceedingly ugly" people to appear in public." I was intriqued. I decided to do a little research."

I found that the actual law is Chicago Municipal Code section 36034 and it reads...

“No person who is diseased, maimed, mutilated or in any way deformed so as to be an unsightly or disgusting object or improper person to be allowed in or on the public ways or other public places in this city, or shall therein or thereon expose himself to public view, under a penalty of not less than one dollar nor more than fifty dollars for each offense.”

At the time it was known as “The Ugly Law.” Unfortunatly for us, it was repealed 1974.

Now, I wouldn't have any problem calling the police on an ugly bitch. I don't see why anyone would. I think that us beautiful people would be happy to collectivly work side by side to punish the unfortunate. I can't for the life of me figure out why the city government would repeal such a useful and necessary law. Perhaps it was inflation. The fine would have gone up and ugly people don't make a lot of money because they are always either kept in the back room or in the basement. Not much room for advancement there.

That reminds me of the retarded Asian lady that worked the drive thru at Jade East back in Springfield. She was ugly. She was also so wild that they kept her chained to the large metal table in the center of the room. Legend has it that she used to jump out of the drive thru window and attack those that like their lemon chicken to go. After she would attack and them, she would drag them back into the restaurant and use them as meat... but only when they ran out of cat. But back top the topic at hand...

If ugly people are allowed outside, it should only be at night... and only in dark areas of the city. Places where they can be mugged or attacked so they won't want to come out of hiding ever again. That's how we can rectify this situation. We organize a huge gang bang on ugly people. Once they are all good and banged, maybe they'll keep their ugly asses inside. Unless they like it. Ugly people need love too. They're just like fat people. Only we fatties would rather stay home and eat cake while we cry. *tear*

Kiddie Hickies

2008-10-21T09:45:00.004-05:00

This toy was the effing bomb! His name is Leech. He was a member of "The Evil Horde." They were the bad guys on The Masters of the Universe cartoons (i.e. He-Man and She-Ra... like you didn't already know.) Leech was an amphibian-like creature with suction pads on his hands, feet and mouth that provide him with the ability to suck and drain the life-force from his opponent, rendering them helpless against him. (Insert evil laugh here: "Mwha-ah-ha-ah-ha!")

The actual toy itself had suction cups on it's hands and mouth. Then there was a button on his back that you pushed while it's mouth was on a flat surface to make it stick. And that bitch would stick. It sure could suck for such a small toy.

Now, being a young and inquisitive child, I soon learned that Leech could stick other things... like skin. It didn't take long for me to have hickies all up and down my arms, legs, chest, cheeks and forehead. Perfectly round, silver dollar sized hickies all over my body. I looked like a leper. Fortunately, it was easy for my parents to explain why my weird little ass had hickies all over his body. "He got a new toy that gives hickies." Oddly enough, that satiated most people's curiosity.

My favorite story about my Leech action figure also involves Aunt Cindy. My cousin, Sarah, had all the She-Ra toys. So whenever our families got together, it was the perfect opportunity for us to join forces in the battle against the Evil Horde. (That, and I got to play with girl toys... She-Ra was fierce.) I had gotten over the phase where I would use Leech to give myself hickies and moved on to the much healthier stage where I would use him to give hickies to other people.

My Aunt was watching the two of us play when I asked her if I could show her the cool thing my toy could do. Being the adorable lil' tyke that I was, she agreed. Before she realized what was going on, I had Leech attached to the center of her forehead and I was pulling. It only took 3 or 4 seconds for her to grab the doll from me and release herself from Leech's deadly grasp. Unfortunately, it was too late. There, in the center of my Aunt's forehead was a perfectly round, silver dollar sized, dark purple hickie.

She never got mad, or at least never showed it. My whole family made fun of her for the entire weekend. My older sisters tried to remove the hickie with toothpaste and frozen spoons. (FYI: That doesn't work.) It is still a topic of conversation with my family to this day. "Remember the time little Mikey gave his Aunt a hickie in the center of her forehead." Awww, memories.