Friday, December 29, 2006

you simply cannot overcook love

Sometimes I think of anus surgery when I eat turkey sandwiches. Especially when there's Miracle Whip on the sandwich (which you know I HATE SO MUCH (yet you continue to use it in lieu of the much preferred sandwich spread)).

It makes the eating experience five percent less enjoyable because it's the carve out surgery which is when they carve out your anus like a pumpkin and replace it with wax. It's a bad kind which doesn't get a lot of press.

Makes me think of death, I guess.

Furthermore, I hope I get buried in a brand new cemetery. A fresh cemetary. A clean cemetary. I don't want to be around all those fucking old people. Old, dead, sick people, no thanks.

Do you suppose that when I rise as a zombie I want to go out a-braining with a bunch of co-zombies pushing around those things that old people push around so they don't fall on the ground?

I, good sir (the innernet), do not.

Thursday, December 28, 2006

master beta

This is what my girl Fergie Ferg and me have in common.

Both of us are Fergalicious. I was born with that as my Xian name and she wanted to borrow it and I said, let nothing stand between you, Fergie and me, the Blog Ho. Take it. Sing on it. Make a fortune from just those same six syllables.

Second thing in common, I ain't promiscuous. For me it's opportunity. For queen Fergie Ferg it's on account of a sterling virtue.

Third thing: "I blow kisses (mmmwwahhh) That puts them boys on rock, rock." We both do this. I like to think I do it better. She disagrees. We still get along, though, we respect each others' opinions. She also loves plural possessives. She's complex. I'm simple and i misuse them.

We also differ, she and me. We aren't self-same clones or copies like most people assume.

For one, she has a vagina. I do not. Well, not an organic one, anyway. I have some copies, sure. Don't begrudge or judge me for that.

Plus her vagina is sweaty from too much time in the gym. Mine aren't. Ship shape. Ready to sail at the drop of a hat as I like to think on them. In this unnumbered way we are different as well, but keep this secret from her or she'll be so mad I said it.

For two, I'm not an ex-crack addict. I don't say that to denigrate FF but I'm just saying I never jacked the meth with a rig into my skin. Nor have I ever kicked a habit--they are to be nurtured and kept under strict wraps so they don't get you fired--but still to be enjoyed (don't misunderstand me)--not kicked like a dog. So she's a bit of a quitter in this regard. I'm not.

Another difference is that I was never officially on Kids Incoroperated. Not that it wasn't a wonderful movie that I would have killed or died to be on. It just wasn't in my particular deck of cards.

Great theme song, though.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

i'll eat fish for dinner, you see if i don't

I'm thinking of changing my name from a Blog Ho to the Blog Ho. I've been reading some self-esteem books and I just think it might be a positive change for me to, you know, increase my standing in the world.

At first I thought, a Blog Ho of Homaha, but then it dawned on me, why not shoot for the moon, the Blog Ho?

Also, I think if I ever cloned myself the clone would certainly turn out evil.

You never really see a nice clone, which is a shame. It would be nice if you could go up to someone and say, "Louise, have you met my clone, Jerry?"

"Nice to meet you, Louise," says Jerry

"And very good to meet you, Jerry, such a lovely name," says Louise.

"Yes, I wanted to be named the Blog Ho but the real the Blog Ho thought that was a bit too over-possessive, isn't that right, the Blog Ho?" says Jerry.

"Yes, quite right, Jerry. You see, Louise, I didn't want him to think he could take credit for my wondrous accomplishments. Jerry must pull on the bootstraps as a certain the Blog Ho pulled 8 magnificent times on the straps," says the Blog Ho.

A story like that would marvel A Christmas Carol.

Anyway, if it's evil (and it will be evil) I'll definitely go for the nuts, which is my only weakness. The only thing is, he'll be expecting that so I'll do a concert move of a fake jab to the eyes (the secondary one true weakness) and then a quick chop to the nuts.

You should practice this move in case Jerry gets past me because you never know when he'll come after you.

I mean, he probly will just sit around and drink and play video games.

But if the power goes out and he runs out of booze?


Tuesday, December 26, 2006

i have a headache this big

I have a tumor made of cheese or some kind of fatty meat sausage or maybe a mixture of butter and crackers lodged somewhere in my bowel or pre-bowel regions and the only way to get it out is by pressure, I'm afraid (interior pressure, please don't get your hopes up).

Remember how you were saving that goat for a special occasion? Well I need it.

Please grind it up, fur and horn, eyeball and soft snout and all the little parts into a fine, chunky paste and put the feeding tubes in my nose and spray full-power until I clear the food tumor because it's really uncomfortable and I have a lot to eat before it spoils.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

I wrote this 3 days ago using only my tongue and an old set of leather pants

Wonderful news, everybody!

He did it!

He really did it!

He brought sexy back!

LOL, isn't it wonderful?

You totally doubted me that he'd bring it back, too. You were all, how can one man bring back something so lost?


I've been receiving several emails from my friends around the world (many and varied members of a community well-known for its hip sense of sense (including Sting's brain stretched back to its beautiful youth)) and they are quietly assuring me that sexy is finally back.

I guess it will be a Merry Xmas, afterall.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

We're out of beta! Huzzah!

I have some good news for the eyebrow manufacturers, I've developed a brand new right eyebrow for your older but classy (cancer) selection. As usual, I'll knit them from downy back hair. Call me if you want the left one. You have the number.

Here's another picture I drew. I had other stuff but it was ugly and I hated it.

This is a picture of a cat who can't learn to catch mice. A pig is there, as well. You can tell by its tail. That mouse thinks he's so great. I'd like to hit him with a hammer.

Here's an ascii picture of what I expect for Xmas (it's a boat trip to the Bahamas but without the boat and without the Bahamas and you just giving me the 2k) (the c's represent waves and the dots represent how many times you vomit on cruise ships when you get the noro):

.. .c.. .. c.. ..c.c.. c
cc.. .c. c.c.c.. .cc.c
.c. .cc. .c. .cc.

(Let me just add a few more dots...)..


There. Frame it.

Monday, December 18, 2006

Get thee to a Funnery

You should go home early today so you can catch that cheating spouse of yours in bed with this week's passion fruit and because you've been working so hard. Harder than you get paid, frankly. They take advantage of you.


If I could go back into time and kill a man it would certainly be William Shakespeare on account of I almost failed my college career because I couldn't get through his bullshit.

Everyone was all, "Oh, look at THAT genius, he's SOOO clever."

Fucker can't even speak English good, ya know? It's always quoth and wot wot and pate and all kinds of nonsense words, I wish the Fonz had been around to teach him better.

Maybe that's the solution...instead of violence (a favorite tool of the loathed left wingers) we send the Fonz back to instruct William as to how correctly to talk.

Make it so, that's your new project.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

I'd kill a mockingbird if it threatened me

What's 23 - 7?

That's the year your mom had awkward sex with some boy that you don't even know.

But it's ok, she was probably drunk at the time which helps a lot with most of life's queer travails.

Isn't math so much easier when you put in real life scenarios?

I think so too.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

A suit made of cooked eggs is fun until the wolves attack

I really do wish that I could just love and marry you and that we could do all of our most vital plannings between the 17 seconds after our weekly sex romp and before I fall into blissful slumber but I'm afraid my heart belongs to another, alcohol and unsafe sex.

I mean, I suppose there might be room for you between me and unsafe sex, I'm sure she could scoot over so that you could pour your heavenly bliss betwixt she and me and you and she -- but don't come between me and alcohol because that's a battle you don't want to fight.

And boys, I want you to know I'm speaking to the girls at this juncture and I know that's painful and confusing but there are rules. Unless you have the requisite lingua facil, capacity for long bouts of silence and a giving trust fund. Maybe just maybe then.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006


I want you to know that I was invited to attend that Jewish seminar going on over in Iran today but I had to admit that I wasn't an expert in the holocaust or Jewish history at all except when it comes to the great Jewish army with whom I'm in daily contact.

President Hamajeenajaaad sent me a personal letter of invitation and I was so sad to RSVP with a firm but polite "no" but, in truth (and please don't tell him this or I won't be your friend anymore), I had another commitment.

You see, there was the president of a certain major university in Georgia (and co-sponsored by the states of Alabama and 99% of Florida) who was having his own little conference that covered a variety of subjects that are new to me, the one that got the majority of attendance is obviously, Slavery in American History (another big fat lie of the liberal left (who just want to make you hate everything because they're pure evil))... and the other interesting topic to me: Canada (Doesn't really exist, you fall off the edge if you try to go there and then the savages eat your body).

The one topic I sadly missed, though was the one about how when the pioneers got to America the Indians were already happily ensconced on lush reservations and no matter how hard we tried to get them to do fun stuff with us, they wouldn't.

So you can see how it was that I had no time to go to Iran, today, even though they wanted me so bad that they couldn't hardly stand it. So they got David Duke instead--a man well versed in history.

So, anyway ladies, History is dumb it's only looks that really count in the end.

Friday, December 08, 2006

has anyone noticed that sending in posts via the emails is like rubbing dirt on your sensitivities? cause i have.

I just want everyone to know that the song where that guy sings about bringing sexy back is a damn good song.

You just don't like him because he's a homosexual and I just don't like that about you--it makes you seem like a bigot even though I know you have a good heart what was just raised wrong to think people who are different are bad.

I mean, if you think about it... If Radiohead had sung the same song you'd be all..."Have you heard that new Radiohead song, Sexyback?"  

"Yeah, man, lol, it's 1337, that Thom Yorke can really make you feel like sexy is going to come back any second and that he has a sexy back."

...simply because it's Radiohead and it's your best band and if they'd been the ones what done it, you'd be fine with it.  Hypocrite.

Ok, that's a bad example using Radiohead and I'm sorry--i shot the moon on that one.  

And I admit that I can't think of a good example and I hope that makes you feel better about yourself.

And I resent you thinking I didn't have weekend plans, I do.

The plan is to get drunk and go ice skating and then blog about bruising on Monday and also to gloat to Africa about ice rinks.

Pics to follow.

Monday, December 04, 2006

News and NEWS!!!

I have some good news and some bad news.

I know you're the type that gets the bad news out of the way vite vite so I'm just going to out and tell you...Lance Bass is breaking up with his boyfriend.

That was a trick bad.

The real bad is that every day people are writing new poetry. Every day onto the literary dung heap of literature fall small missiles of poems such that a new stairway to heaven could be carved from the old masters of rhyme and the climb to Our Lord, Jesus Christ could be made in a long week (but for the overpowering smell).

The good news is that I have added to the dung heap in small bits of illustrated delight! What's that, you say? Yes, I wrote a book of illustrated poems named, And the Zombie Wept (there's a preferred hardback edition but it's too expensive for you). I tried to set up the purchasing such that Lulu paid to order the book, but the fuckers would have no part of it.

The audiobook will be out in the fall and Terry Gilliam is the voice talent!

I have vertigo in my eyeballs

I wish my weiner was about one inch longer so that I could reach the refrigerator with it without having to thrust out my pelvis cause it's uncomfortable to do that when you just want to lay on the couch and watch VH1 specials.

Right now it mostly roams the house like that one martian device that we saw in the documentary Tom Cruise was in that will happen soon.  With the aliens.  War of the Worlds?  I have to spell it out to you, now?

Anyway, it's pretty creepy, I hear from my neighbors.  Just kinda peers at you, ya know?  With its one great eye?  I barely notice.

I mean, I guess I should be happy about the shortfall because it prowls around the house but it can't steal anything (like my dignity) because it can't really reach anything worth a hearty plunder.

So I guess what I'm telling you is that when you sleep over...don't be too shocked, please.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

this, my cat threw up

I love all of the ruckus the Kramer language has kicked up.

I love seeing Katie Couric on the news say, "the N word," as if she were in 7th grade explaining what she'd heard a big fat white kid say.

The N word seems to be the Voldemort of swear words, The Curse Which Shall not be Named.

I think white people should incorporate the word nigger into their daily vernacular but call only other white people nigger much as black people call only black people nigger.

I believe that it's time we evolved to a newer and better sense of racial slurs and insults and that really, we're clinging to the language of our fathers and our fathers' fathers.  And really, who wants that?

In the spirit of that thought, I have developed a script that you might want to try on your coworkers at work and if you don't work then at the laundrymat where you do the majority of your laundry.  This really is only if you're white...the darker the shade of skin color the less germane the advice and I'm sorry to discrimiate but I'm going to insist on this.  But you Jews can do it.  Unless you're an Asian Jew, then you'd better just watch the whites do it.  Safer that way.


Good mornin, nigger, how was your weekend?

Nigger, please, you know I had to go to my wife's Company Xmas party.

Damn, nigger, that's right!  I totally forgot, please excuse me.  Was it as bad as you thought?

No, it wasn't so bad.  I mostly sat and talked with some fellow named Peter Watson--he is in accounting, i guess.  One fun thing was that there were a bunch of niggers there who were caroling and they had such wonderful voices, reminded me of being a kid again.

Well, at least it wasn't a total loss.

True!  Say, nigger, have you ever heard of wassel?

Yes, nigger, I love it!!!  It's basically just apple cider but the added oranges make to so festive!

Well, yes, I had never had it.  Some of the other niggers there wanted to go a-wasseling but the party was in kind of a scary neighborhood.  Near the ghetto.



Ok, so now you can try that.  Then we can create a better set of words with which to describe pigmentation and such.

Plus, guess what?  Here's all you want to know about wassel:

Feast in the knowledge.  Eat its very marrow.