This site is a testament to not only my life but to the insanity of society. Dive into Psycho Carnival and you'll find tragicomic personal stories, wild yet honest rants, a little depravity, videos and a buttload of other goodies.

This site also contains adult like humor and ideas that could make you think. Consider yourself warned!

Monday, December 31, 2007


I have a grip on reality--just not this particular one.

Some mornings it's just not worth gnawing through the straps

All things considered, insanity may be the only reasonable alternative.

Fun is taking you to the edge of insanity, then pushing.

«Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that but not with all those flies and death and stuff.»- Mariah Carey, pop singer

From our brilliant leader, George Bush Jr.-

"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." —Washington, D.C., Aug. 5, 2004

"Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB-GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across this country." —Poplar Bluff, Mo., Sept. 6, 2004

"I want to thank the astronauts who are with us, the courageous spacial entrepreneurs who set such a wonderful example for the young of our country." —Washington, D.C. Jan. 14, 2004

“You know, one of the hardest parts of my job is to connect Iraq to the war on terror.”—George W. Bush, interview with CBS News’ Katie Couric, Sept. 6, 2006

“That’s George Washington, the first president, of course. The interesting thing about him is that I read three — three or four books about him last year. Isn’t that interesting?”

"I would like to apologize for referring to George W. Bush as a 'deserter.' What I meant to say is that George W. Bush is a deserter, an election thief, a drunk driver, a WMD liar and a functional illiterate. And he poops his pants." —Filmmaker Michael Moore

Wisdom from the mouth of Homer Simpson-

When will I learn? The answer to life's problems aren't at the bottom of a bottle, they're on TV!

When I look at the smiles on all the children's faces, I just know they're about to jab me with something.

Old people don't need companionship. They need to be isolated and studied so it can be determined what nutrients they have that might be extracted for our personal use

I like my beer cold, my TV loud and my homosexuals flaming

Kill my boss? Do I dare live out the American dream?

Homer no function beer well without.

I'm going to the back seat of my car, with the woman I love, and I won't be back for ten minutes!

Friday, December 28, 2007

Surviving Christmas Hell

Christmas is not quite over for me. I've been to three different houses, so far. A few more visits to a couple more "divided" family subgroups are on the agenda. By "divided" I mean those members that don't get along with the one main group that they belong to. Confused? So am I by it all. It would take to long to explain here, however.

Anyway, the visits I've had thus far have been pleasant. No dramatic bickering, outbursts or pointless hostility. Just the exchange of good conversation, humorous observations and good old gift giving. Unfortunately, since times were tough for us this end of the year, we couldn't buy gifts for everyone, as tradition dictates. Instead, we baked brownies, muffins and cakes for everybody. A first for us, as far as gift giving goes. And when I say "we", I actually mean my wife.

According to what my trustworthy tv says, the whole point of Christmas is to be a good consumer and BUY, SPEND and WASTE for good old AMERICA, INC. Hooray, indeed.

Another dark side to Christmas would be the constant rushing around you have to do to prepare for it. Putting up the tree. Getting/stringing up decorations. Running from store to store purchasing stuff for whoever. Mowing down the little old grandmama trying to make her way across the mall parking lot.

Sniff. Sniff. Imagine the tear rolling down my cheek.

Then, of course, there's a big majority of the population that has to work longer hours around Christmas Hell. My wife works at WallyWorld, for example. She could tell you wonderful horror stories concerning the customers that come through her line. More than a few times has a customer been pissed about something she has no control over. She has been called a bitch and/or has had store items thrown at her. She, unfortunately, has to remain respectful. I, however, do not have the patience. I would gleefully ram said item(s) up their disrespecting sphincters until eyes bulged and bleeding commenced.

I have great admiration for how she has to deal with people.

People suck. Is that a newsflash for ya?

But getting back to the good stuff about the holidays. Christmas is good when you see family members that you like and don't mind talking to. Christmas is fine when you see your kids' faces express honest excitement and gratitude for the thing you've bought them. I don't have kids for this but I think that's how it would play out. Christmas is dandy, especially, when it's all over with and you're killin' those needless brain cells with much drink and then some on New Year's Eve while urinating on the head of a plastic lawn Santa.

That's all I got. What say you?

George Carlin On The Real American Dream

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Job Adventures

What do you call an anorexic with a yeast infection?

A quarter pounder with cheese.

Ba Boom Bah!

Well, I've got another job again. I've had four, I believe, since the middle of October. I was working at a place that assembled and tested brake parts. Did that for two and half years until things got so slow they layed me off. Since then it's been chaotic as far as employment goes. Two of those jobs I got laid off due to slow business. One job I left because it was too hard on my feet. I've got 2 inch heel spurs in each foot. Years ago, the podiatrist said that I could get them operated on to be removed but they would eventually grow back because of the shape of my feet. This job was all about walking constantly. I had to quit. My feet were in so much pain, even with shoe supports, that they felt like bloody stumps.

Now for Job#4, I have quite a tale to tell. So sit back, pop open a beer and relax while I describe the events as they're still semi-fresh in my depraved mind.

I applied for a job with a place called (name withheld). They hire people as caregivers for the elderly and mentally impaired. Being the caring and giving kind of gentleman I am, I thought myself perfectly suited for the job. Ha ha.... yeah right. Even though I told them I had zero experience with taking care of such folk, they hired me on the spot. Anyway, they stuck me with an uncontrollable autistic 15 year old named Derrik. Derrik was/is as big as I am. I'm pretty big. Five foot eight and over 200 lbs. They told me briefly some of his antics he would attempt to pull off during my 4-6 hour visits with him. But they neglected to mention some of the more important things. They did mention that 4 other people (women) had tried watching him but quit because of Derrik's hormones. He may be mentally impaired but he was horny as hell. They said Derrik would hunch their legs and try kissing them. If they told him to stop it, he would throw something at them. Like a vaccuum cleaner, for instance. After that, the father (the wife and mother left because she couldn't handle Derrik) brought Derrik to work with him at Domino's pizza. Once there, Derrik would frequently pull out his puffed pecker and commence masturbating while imitating an angry gorilla. Ta Da! The father told me this part the first (and only night) I handled him.

Naturally, it wasn't long till the boss told the father that he could no longer bring Derrik to work with him. Imagine that. I guess the customers gave a thumbs down on the dinner show. But getting back to me and my part in this tale.... They hired me on because they felt that he would respond better to a guy giving Derrik orders and taking care of him. They said they had luck one other time trying this. Anyway, I agreed. I had a bad feeling about it but I was desperate for a paycheck. I thought, at the very least, it might be entertaining. Sure enough, it was.

I had the brains, fortunately, to ask for someone else to be there to help me out my first night. The nurse, her name was Elma, came to their small efficiency apartment and met me. While there, Derrik threw plates of food against the wall. Threw open 2 liters down the stairwell. Took all his clothes off and stood to poop over the toilet. He screamed frequently. Tried to hunch the nurse and stick his tongue in her mouth. Jump up and down on the furniture. Grab my arm and bruise it. But never sit still for a moment. Elma and I would have him sit in a corner for a minute before he would suddenly jump up, lunge for one of us and make monkey noises.

I left their home that night, knowing I wouldn't be back. Hell, the company was planning on having me stay with this kid alone, four nights a week. And since I wasn't really allowed to grab hold of this kid and pin him to the ground, I knew there would be no way I could handle him. Besides, if I pinned him to the floor, he may hurt me later.... or get the wrong idea and hunch my leg.


That's all for now. Tune in for another episode of This Is My Freakishly Insane Life in a couple days or so.

Saturday, December 15, 2007


Ah, we're in for a real treat for the next few days here in the midwest. Snow. Freezing rain. Rain. More snow. Ice. Stupidity. Fast moving motorists. Wrecks. Destruction. And Death.

Works for me.

Ya ever notice that the worst the weather is, the more people you see on the road? Is there some mental illness that the majority share that compels them to be on the freakin' road when there's three inches of ice on the surface? I say if it's not absolutely necessary to be on the road when the conditions are like this, then you should be not a moron and not contribute to the chaos on the streets and highways.

Look at the pic of Digby, the 150 lb. potbellied piggy. Isn't he the cutest? He's my sister's pet. But if my sis and her family get snowed in for the next few weeks, he could be a family meal. I wonder how much bacon Digby would give up.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

First Blog of The Site (whoopee)

In about a minute, I'll have to get my lazy ass off this chair and make a list out for my significant other. She's expecting me to perform to standards I cannot dare to aspire to. Yes, I must make out the Grocery List. Do we need milk? Nope. Got 3 gallons of that most expensive liquid refreshment. Do we need poop paper? Yep, only 10 and a half rolls left. It is certainly an emergency if I have ever experienced one. Let's see.... what else? Ah, who cares?

Just kidding. If I don't make out that list, I'm going to get a proper beating. Shhh.... don't tell her I said that.

Is there anyone reading this that's pissed that everything we buy is skyrocketing in price? Not just gas but every little thing. I heard milk is going to be around 4 bucks a gallon soon. That's ridiculous. But even more ridiculous are those folks that get interviewed by news reporters on the street.

Reporter: Sir.... excuse me... Sir. How do you feel about the rising cost of living?
Dude: Hell, I don't know. What can ya do?
Reporter: Do you feel that the war in Iraq can be justified by the needs of one politician or one government?
Dude: Hell, I don't know. What can ya do?
And so on.
Quite a few people are indifferent to what's going on in this country. As long as they're getting a paycheck every week or they're involved in the latest distraction (movie, sports event, shopping spree or whatever) they don't care. And the worse things get, the more they dwell in the Land of Utter Indifference.
I think it's time to speak up. Take action. At least comment on the state of things.
That's all for now. Thanks for listening. - Kelly
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