Guy in a Bear Suit

kill it with fire!

seriously, if i knew where this hag and her robot cowboy warriors lived, i'd firebomb the whole shitkicking town.

i dare you to make it all the way through this song and not get it stuck in your head.  i especially fancy the way she pronounces "play"; sorta like "ply-ay".

 

what the fuck is wrong with you?

one of the tools that comes with a typepad account (the blog service i use) is a means to track hits to the site and what, if any, was the referring site. 

quite a few come from google, which is fun because you can see what they were searching for.  because of my propensity to use a certain naughty word that starts with an F, my blog comes up in searches that are no doubt not looking for what i have to offer. 

which brings me to one that popped up today.  some fucker woke up this morning, stumbled over to his computer, and after probably checking his stock portfolio, charitable cause message board, weather, and sports scores, decided to enter, "older guy fucker fuck a boy on sofa set" into google's massive search engine.  that's what he typed.  because why wouldn't you want to know more about an older guy fucker fuck a boy on sofa set?  not just a sofa, but a sofa set.  and the boy fucker must be an older guy.  older than what?  the boy?  could he be a teen?  oh and also, i hope your fucking nuts get caught in the gears of some heavy machinery and while you're stuck there, somehow you catch on fire.  then i hope the firemen extinguish you so that you'll live, but with severe 3rd degree burns over 98% of your body and with your eyeballs melted down your fucking face. 

and i would prefer you to be an older guy.

by the way, it looks like the reason my site came up for that search is my liberal use of the word "fuck" plus my use of the word "boy" when talking about my kids.  if you're looking for what that dude was looking for, i'm not your guy. 

and while i'm on the topic of blog stats, i'll go ahead and throw out that the page of mine that gets the most hits is the one that has this picture:

yep.  it's a pregnant extra tiny midget.  i have no idea what one has to enter into a search engine to find that pic, but it gets far and away more hits than any original thoughts of mine.  sorta depressing, but that is a fine pic so i don't feel too bad. 

the number two most popular page was where i debunked those "magic" cprime bracelets a while back, but that's mainly because it is linked to several watchdog/scam type websites.

so anyway, if you're the fucker who landed here via that vile search, i hope the machine gears and fire get you before the police do.

hello whore

my wife and i watch the tv show "dexter".  on the most recent season, a character played by forrest gump's kid - not haley joel osment (who the fuck names their boy child haley?), but his biological kid - believes that some woman is the whore of babylon.  fuck only knows where he got that idea.  oh yeah, the bible, that's right.  but this isn't about that, so don't get all worked up and close the browser just yet. 

anyway, there's a scene where he catches up to this woman after having let her go once already.  he says the following to her: 

 

funny stuff, right?  my wife and i sometimes use that as a greeting.  never gets old.  anyway, all of that was just a very long winded way of saying why the title of this entry is what it is.

as has been mentioned before on here, my youngest son is quite odd.  he latches on to things and then becomes obsessed with them for short periods of time.  last spring, my oldest boy sang a solo part in his 1st grade class's musical presentation.  it was a song called "little sad clown".  the girl that acted out the part of the clown was named cecilia.  hudson (the younger boy) was fascinated with cecilia.  he must have watched the video of the performance 200 times.  at any school event, he always wants to see cecilia, even though he's never met her and his older brother, her classmate, isn't friends with her at all.  strange, huh?

so a few months ago, i introduced him to the song "cecilia" by times two.  yes, the 1988 supergroup times two.  it's a remake of a simon & garfunkel song and i thought he'd like it based on the title alone, which he did, and still does.  for some reason, i actually started paying attention to the words for the first time the other day and i was shocked at what a whore cecilia is.

think about it from the singer's point of view.  he's over at his chick's house, banging her in her bed, just getting a little afternoon delight.  once they finish, dude just wants to wash his face (and most likely wash his dick in the sink.  what?  don't act like you've never done it).  here's the fucked up part; he strolls on back to the bedroom, probably still at half mast, maybe thinking of entering negotiations for a round two, when he finds ANOTHER GUY IN BED WITH HER!  ALREADY!  how fucking long was he gone to wash his face and cock?  either this guy was like a ninja who just slipped into the house at the speed of sound and started giving the old in-out to cecilia, in which case the song is about witnessing a rape - which is hardly something to sing about - or she had him lying in wait and invited his ass in once her cuckold left the room to tidy his bits up.  did she think he wasn't going to come back? 

assuming it was not a forced entry and sexual assault, the singer should be super fucking pissed at this whore.  she couldn't even have sent him out for food or something?  she was so cock hungry that she just beckoned him in immediately after bachelor number one shot his load? 

and if this is the type of slag we're dealing with, why is this poor sap writing a song about it?  and why doesn't it have the words/phrases, "whore", "cheating cunt", and "double homicide in cecilia's bedroom" in it?  maybe some of those are difficult to rhyme. 

if i caught my wife fucking someone only minutes after i'd done it (well, if i ever caught her fucking someone at all, regardless of the timing, but somehow it's much worse that she knew he was only in the next room and didn't seem to care if he caught them), the top 52 things that would come to mind would not include penning an 80s pop tune to commemorate the event.  and saying that she's "shaking your confidence daily" isn't quite strong enough, given what he's just witnessed.  i'd say cecilia has moved on, pally.  maybe getting on your knees and begging her to come home isn't the best course of action after you saw her chugging someone else's cock while your semen wasn't even dry on her belly yet.

i'd recommend you move on.  and maybe kill her cat on your way out.  goodbye whore.   

they grow up so fast

little story that will only be cute to those with kids. 

last night our boys were wrestling after dinner, as they sometimes do.  my wife and i were in the kitchen and they were in the living room, unaware that we could hear them.

from what i can gather, the little one (almost five) was not wrestling to his full ability because he wouldn't let go of his blanket in one of his arms, despite the pleadings from the older one (almost eight).  the older boy was making his case; "how about you put the blanket on the couch and wrestle for 10 minutes, then you can go back and get the blanket and it will be with you all night while you sleep.  just 10 minutes without it".

the negotiations weren't going well and eventually broke down altogether.

that's when the older boy broke out this gem, spoken to his brother, "where's the kid who used to want to wrestle all the time, not the one who has to hold on to his blanket like a baby?  where's THAT kid?"

just a small moment, but my wife and i cracked up.  always so funny when they temporarily talk like adults.

please contact me to say your final goodbyes

kidding. 

somewhere around the middle of january, i noticed that my heart was just absolutely pounding in my chest during moments of rest.  sitting at my desk at work, i could feel it and when i looked down i half expected to see it pushing out like a tex avery cartoon. 

the pulse wasn't any faster than normal, which is lower 50s when i'm resting.  however it was beating so hard that i felt it had to be affecting my blood pressure.  sure enough at the dentist in jan, my bp was high.  then a week or so later i took it at a tom thumb pharmacy and it was 140 over 90.  in the past my bp has always been around "normal" of 120 over 80.

eventually as feb came around, i started to notice the sense of a weight on my upper chest and felt like i had to take repeated, labored deep breaths to get my breath.  since your heart deciding to bitch up on you suddenly is fairly serious, i went to the doctor this past monday.

sure enough, my bp in the office was 150 over 92.  my ekg was normal, with one tiny blip that didn't cause any alarms.  i was then told to follow up with a cardiologist, which i did yesterday.  i was also put on bp medicine, with the understanding that it might not be a permanent thing.

at the cardiologist yesterday, where i was the only person under 87 in the waiting room, my bp was back to normal after 2.5 days on the meds.  the nurse appeared a little surprised when she took my pulse, as it was lower 40s.  once she told me the number, i was shocked as well.  that means it basically beats once every 1.5 seconds, like a very old sleeping elephant.

the doc heard a heart murmur, which he said is probably unrelated to the bp issue.  he wants me to come back twice more; once for a heart calcium deposit scan and a resting echocardiogram (in the same trip), then a week after that for a stress echo, where you bust your balls on a treadmill and then they take pictures of your heart.

the first time they could get me back for that first set of tests is almost a month from now.  i guess they're not too concerned if they're ok with that long of a wait.  i can't say i'm that concerned either, as my heart is as tough as the hide of a crocodile after it has spent its life eating people like chuck norris and rocky balboa.

i bought a home bp monitor and every time i took it last night, it was normal or slightly below and my pulse has remained at 40-44.  not sure what to make of that, but i hope if i call on my heart to actually, you know, fucking work, it can crank up to acceptable levels without use of the paddles.

so anyway, if you have anything you want to tell me or any gifts you'd like to bestow upon me, you might as well go ahead and do it now.