Friday, February 15, 2008

Sometimes I spit when I say my asses (this is very long feel free to not read it (metaphore is confusingly spelled metaphor))

I wish i knew more metaphors.  I think that's what they are.  What is it when you say you're happy as a clam?  That as a part is a special part in English I once heard on the innernet.  I think not a metaphor, I don't think.  But it parades like one.  Similie maybe?  It gets so jealous of you.  Let's call it a metaphor.

I wish I knew more metaphors.

It has been so cold in Omaha.  It was three degrees, this morning.  That's Fahrenheits to all you weaker nations.  Yes, I'm pointing at you, Canada.  Three degrees in Celsius would be like negative a thousand.  In Fahrenheit we don't go negative until our nuts are great frozen glaciers carving river beds in the thighs of our corpulence.  That's how we do things in the US.  Big.  Positive.

Remember when it was funny to laugh about the Canadian dollar?  Well that joke isn't funny, anymore.  It has been put back in the dryer for another 18 minutes.  We'll get back to it being funny again after we talk George Bush into running for another four years.  Who else could do it?  He knows the job.  He's done it for 8 years.  More than that Obama.

I always tell people that it's cold here.  As cold as shit. 

How cold is it, they ask.  (They don't really ask I just pretend they ask so that I can impress them with three degrees.)

It's as cold as shit, here.

I'm just not satisfied with that one.  I know there's the witches tit one but that is so vulgar.  And I abhor vulgarity in most forms.

I'm looking out my window and there's a tree upside down with a long loping penis defying the gravity.  The legs are in the air falling forward like a forward front flip and the penis is going backward like when an indoor plant shoots off a shoot toward the sun.  Reverse gravity.  It's a true trunk of gravity defiance.

I'd take a picture of it for you but I'm lazy. 

So I say cold as shit and shit really isn't that cold, typically.  Maybe if it's frozen shit.  Like in the backyard that my dogs do.  It's been so I can't get the poops off the ground, I must tell you.  I go out there w/ my shovel and they are enmeshed into the earth and there are times when it looks like the killing fields back there.  But with frozen poo, not corpses.

It would be sad if poops came out frozen.  Can you imagine the feeling of that on the old cake hole?  A sliding rod of stinky freezes?  Like a popcicle no one ever wanted.  And can you think on the awkward visits to the doctor for when you had frostbite?

But I'll bet it would slide right out.  Probly wouldn't even have to wipe more than once.  Not that I do anyway.  Unless you were wet down there from gay sex.  Then it would stick like a tongue on a pole.

And guess what else.

I hope that my cat doesn't find me in heaven.  I know that's a mean thing to say but she annoys me.  She walks on my keyboard and it makes me so furious with her.  It's not like I'm going to kill her for it (I already did), but it sure does make me so furious.

I think all animals go to heaven except whales and elephants.  Those two are just so ... I don't know, you know?  Walking around with their big fat asses puffed out in the air.  Singing with their giant blow holes.  N.  Those two don't go to heaven but swim in the lakes of hell.

With the Mormons.