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Just as good as a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

402 posts of nothing to say!

Yesterday I started a great day off with an accident. As I was driving into work I was rejoicing over the fact that there was virtually no traffic at all. About two minutes away from work I noticed about 6 deer running together, it was almost beautiful, until I realized they were going into the street. The car heading opposite me on the two lane road hit one and the second it connected I saw three things:
1) The actual deer went flying into my lane! It was f’n cool to see though.
2) Fur, as though a bunch of dust bunnies got thrown in the air. Yet again, f’n cool.
3) Pieces of the car that made first contact were in the air and amidst the pieces were the deer’s antlers. They came off when it got hit and looked liked someone threw sticks at the accident.

The only thing that would’ve been cooler than that is if a human’s severed head came flying toward me and hit the car. Fortunately, the deer’s dead body landed right in front of my car but did not make contact. I sat there for a second and laughed (that’s how I react to most things, like fear) and then realized I needed to get to work and pulled around the corpse. What’s great is that this morning I passed the spot and thought of him, looked to my right and who’s on the curb grass? Dead Deer, with his brains falling out of his nostrils. Ah, you’ll be missed Dead Deer… you’ll be missed.

HBO had some documentary on late last night that went to the Deep South and seemed to be about the redneck reaction to Obama and the “new” direction of our country. Sadly, it was exactly what you expected: N*gger, “He’s a Muslim”, The only difference between oBama and oSama is B.S., Koon, etc. One man spoke very truthfully about how he just wasn’t ready for that, I can respect that, then he took a second to look over the NASCAR track and removed his sunglasses so he could weep. He wept because a black man was president and was going to “let a bunch of them foreigners over here to take our good jobs.” I could hardly contain myself as he wiped the tears away. It was the equivalents of watching someone take a camera and team to the worst inner city ghetto in the world and asking the most thugged out looking person there about politics. Said thug would probably get angry that he was explaining something while clearly being judged about having no clue about the subject. I felt a little bad for respectable white folks last night as I watched that program. One guy did amuse me pretty well, he was selling merchandise that was campaigning the racist hate towards Obama. When asked “Do you believe he’s a terrorist?” He said no, he said that his only problem with Obama was the direction he wanted to take our country in concerning the war. They asked him why he was selling the hate-wear and his response was “because I’m a capitalist.” Well said sir, well said.

Tax return time is lovely, I get my taxes done for free because my retiree Grandmamakins works at Jackson-Hewitt round this time of year. Every year I had her a bunch note tabs and try to explain that as a stripper it’s difficult to keep a paper trail on all the cash. She looks at me awkwardly and then asks me for my real w-2.

That was a lie, my Grandmamy knows if I’m selling my body I go all the way, male escort style.

This is completely unimportant, but Harry Potter’s summer 2010 movie (I can’t keep track of all those names) will come out the same weekend as Iron Man 2. Sadly, Bobert Downey Jr. might just be in for a good fight. Go Harry!

Well, I’m old now. A woman asked me how old I am, bear in mind that she was much older than I am, and when I said 25 she said “Damn… getting old huh?” It’s official, high school girls will definitely sleep with me know.

To any one that has not found the wonder of Daft Punk, “I hereby challenge thee to listen to Digital Love and not burst into dance!” That $#!T it pure rhythm man, pure rhythm.

I’ve got that “I did laundry last night” really good type feeling. Any other nasty people out there feel what I’m saying. Please don’t let me be the only nasty out there…

Chris Brown’s tragedy (the Wrigley’s suspension of advertising, not beating 7 shades of $#!T out of Rihanna) seems like years ago. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a club banger right now. Look what putting out “new hotness” did for R. Kelly. Where the hell is R. Kelly anyway?

Before my mother will fast track me into a government job she wants a written document, signed, stating that my day of “usage” are over and behind me. Who would ever think that we’d go from decorating the Christmas tree when I was a kid to having conversations like that. My mommy…

Yesterday I had a class where we had a reading of a poem about abortion. I believe it was called “The Mother” (and I realize I probably didn’t use MLA format, suck it), the poem is one woman’s tale of all the good and bad things that will never happen to or for the children she aborted. Once the poem was done I could not stop laughing, I know the teacher saw me but when you get the giggles you’ve got them. The reason I laughed was because the way this woman wrote she had about 30 abortions. I doubt she had that many but it sounded like a lot. When we were done reading it I thought “Lady, don’t you ever use a condom… or pull out?” The laughter flowed right out. Good times.

“Tyler, why is rape such a topic of humor for you?” Well, why do we laugh at our own farts? Why do we celebrate Groundhog’s Day even though it doesn’t matter if the shadow gets seen? And, why would some pervert lie and say a pot of gold is at the end of a rainbow just to make me ruin a perfectly good Sunday chasing that thing along the Mid-Atlantic coast?!

Okeyday (yeah, I like the nonsense and the Little Rascals), I would like to end this on a high note… never mind.

Peaces

1 comment:

SPE said...

I hate it when people in their mid-twenties complain that they are old. Give it three years TRich and then we'll talk. I know feel old for reading this, jerk!

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I blog during work to keep from sleeping. Unless people from my job are monitoring this, in which case "I love my job; I have a family". My dog Max is the man too. Other than that I think reading this blog gives a pretty good idea of what I'm about. Red Jell-o, need I say more.

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