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!

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Politically Correct Mumbo Jumbo

This was sent to me by email. Thought it humorous enough to make it as a post here. If you're a past reader of this blog, you'll know that I find that all extreme forms of "political correct" behaviour are well deserved targets. Well, gee.... now that I've sucked virtually all the fun out of that... eh... here we go with this forwarded email:

Due to the climate of political correctness now pervading America ,
Kentuckians, Tennesseans and West Virginians will no longer be referred to as ‘HILLBILLIES.'
You must now refer to them as
And furthermore
1. She is not a 'BABE' or a 'CHICK' - She is a' BREASTED AMERICAN. '
2. She is not 'EASY' - She is
3. She is not a 'DUMB BLONDE' - She is a
4. She has not 'BEEN AROUND' - She is a
5. She does not 'NAG' you - She becomes
6. She is not a 'TWO-BIT HOOKER' - She is a
1. He does not have a 'BEER GUT' - He has developed a
2. He is not a 'BAD DANCER' - He is
3. He does not 'GET LOST ALL THE TIME' - He
4. He is not 'BALDING' - He is in
5. He does not act like a 'TOTAL ASS' - He develops a case of
(Loved this one!)
6. It's not his 'CRACK' you see hanging out of his pants - It's
 We, at Psycho Carnival, meaning I, actually, do condone passing this forward on forever when right until the comet hits us or we kill ourselvelves directly and we all die, not even leaving a goddamned shadow of ourselves as evidence of when we were here or that we were here.*

*This is when you laugh, heartily.

Oh shit, I'm ruining the mood again. I farted.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Pants On The Ground

This seems to be, for an extremely odd reason I'm not sure about, the song that's sweeping the country. It's a song that will bring a tear of insanity to your eye. You can pick which eye. Larry Platt, a contestant on American Idol sung the very unusual song the first time. The song surprised the judges because the song contained weird yet true words coming out of Platt's mouth.

In the video clip below, Jimmy Fallon does an excellent job impersonating the great Neil Young, singing the same song. It's funny. And Neil Young is one cool dude, too. His songs could be meaningful, poignant, telling the truth of how things are in life or all of it put together. It's not celebrity worship I'm demonstrating here, folks, it's just that I respect the man for his thoughts, music and talent. Click the above link to know more about Neil Young. Or better yet, listen to his music to really know him.

Here's the You Tube video of Jimmy Fallon's parody of "Pants On The Ground":

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Blueberries On Ice

It was so cold out, on the way to the truck, earlier today, that I had icicles hanging off of My Blueberries Down Below. Luckily, I survived the twenty second walk to the truck and turned on my hiney heater (what I call my seat warmer) and the icicles defrosted rapidly and all was well again in the Land of Nutsack.

Dance! Be Merry! Have a mug of ale!

Isn't it great that celebrity/actor, John Travolta, flew a ton of supplies down to the earthquake victims in Haiti. My respect for him went up a notch. I don't care what his personal beliefs (Scientology) are, as long as the rich bastard is doing some real good.

You know what else is doing some good?

I don't know. You don't have the answer? Damn.

This idiot looks like he has an oddly happy expression.

Perhaps setting himself on fire is his passion.

I like him because he makes me smile and think more highly of myself. Thank you, idiot, for the gift of making me feel superior. Salute!

I applaud your glorious ignorance and only wish that I could douse you with gasoline. What comedy you could bring to the public!

No, you will not be allowed to venture outside! You may get Frozen Blueberries Syndrome. Stay here, where it's warm. Especially for you, you King of Idiots!

Now, good day to you, sir.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Living In A Haunted House

My family and I lived in a house that was haunted a lot of the time and then, a few times, there would be minutes or hours of terror. My sister and I experienced it the most as kids. But still we had these freaky experiences all the way up until the time of adulthood. Our friends would, more than half the time they stayed overnight, would have something mysterious happen to them, too.

We didn't doubt their stories one bit.

Here's the rundown or list of bizarre things that happened between the time I was ten through... well, until a couple months ago. My sister experienced some different things that are mixed with these and she would experience some of the same things. So finally, here's the list:

* Loud shouting, at close proximity, in my nearly deaf ear. It would always shout my name "Kelly!" at least once a week. This was a nighttime routine. Of course I thought, it was someone else in the house. Mom, dad or sister. Checked it out. They all said it wasn't any one of them.

* Laughing and talking in the attic. No matter what time of day. It was checked. Nothing there was found. Sounded like they were having a drunken frat party or something to me. It was really a fun occasion (sarcasm) when you had to go underneath the door to the attic to take a shower and/or a dump in the main bathroom. Maybe they were giggling at my penis? Who knows?

* The TV going off and On. The whole family experienced this one pretty often. Always in the middle of the night when everyone was in bed. Any one of us would hear the Television turning on. The sound would be blaring from the TV. Normal TV shows, reruns, commercials and so on. Kind of hard to mistaken it for anything else. Someone would invariably wake up, hear this racket and go in the living room to see who up watching TV that late at night. No one would be there. The TV was sometimes ON. Other times -not.

* Mom would experience something black quickly passing her bedroom door. She told me about this happening on several occasions. It was too blurry to recognize it, she told me.

* Chairs going across the floor upstairs when anyone of us were in the basement. You could hear them scrape across the dining room floor. All of us, experienced that commonly, as well. We got used to that, after awhile. Not too exciting.

* Dolls having their heads turned backwards would be found in the morning. We knew each didn't do twist the doll heads. Semi-common, I think. I'm not the one to ask about that one.

* There were a lot of creaks and house settling events that could be explained away. Some couldn't. Anything to quell the fears was usually told by Dad.

* There were sounds my sister and I hear that made us almost crap ourselves in fear. For me, it was the LOUD running up the stairs and banging on the doors as I heard footsteps coming closer to my bed. This was in the middle of the night. I pounded my fists off on mom and dad's bedroom wall. In the morning, they said they heard nothing. They said they must have been asleep. I was a 16 year old guy whose hobbies included listening to Heavy Metal and lifting weights. They couldn't hear the pounding?

* There was also loud pounding from the other side of the basement door. This happened at least a couple times a year. There was nothing alive being kept down there.

Oh well. All in the past.

My sister has the worst experience -that I promised I would never tell mom or dad. So, I'm sorry to say -I'm not going to tell it here. It does involve something red, though. From that little info, you can likely guess what I mean from that. If not -sorry.

In our youth, I believe my sister and I, in the middle years of living there, perhaps encouraged the visitations or other paranormal activity going on by playing with the Ouija board. Those are very bad things to play with. Check the link to find good info on them.

We would ask it questions. Such as: What exact time, to the minute and second is Dad coming home. It would be correct 80 percent of the time, to the second. And you never knew when he would be coming home because of the job he had. Strange. Our cousin, a few times a month, would blindfold us to see if we were peaking. I wasn't. Pretty damn sure my sister wasn't either. We figured he (my cousin) was an unbiased spectator and he would tell us what answers it would give. He wrote them down.

Turns out, it would be incredibly accurate. Well, most of the time. We asked it when we would die. It was wrong about my cousin. Still alive, fortunately. We asked what was the name of the ghost or ghost that were living there. It kept repeating, "Gus" with that needle guide triangle thing. It also mentioned or spelled out that it was a "lower" criminal. Spirit. Whatever that means, for certain, I don't know. It kinda makes me think Gus was a burglar or something. A mischief maker, of sorts.

A couple years ago, my sister and I were sitting in the living room while we were having a loud family party for one reason or another. May Christmas. Not sure. Anyway, we both heard laughter from the hallway, at a time when everyone suddenly became quiet just a few seconds before this sound. We both looked at each other and realized we both heard the same noise. We both got up and looked to see if anyone was in the hallway, bathrooms and bedrooms and we came to the mutual conclusion that everyone was present in the living room. So we asked everyone if they heard the noise, and of course, everyone denied hearing it.

Personally, I think my sister and I are more sensitive to spirits and other paranormal things out there. My sister still has it, whatever it is. I do, every now and then, but not so much. When it does happen, a picture will pop into my mind, not by reality, of something trivial that actually does happen in a year or more.

And then I'll remember I had this image in my mind before. A couple times, it is something important.

One time, in particular, I envisioned a a bright nuclear mushroom cloud, suddenly, in my mind. It was in the same location and direction of a neighboring large city we live close to. I didn't know that, at the time, when I was just a kid. I do now. Still have the image in my head. The mushroom was on a outdoor theater movie screen. It was as if a movie was playing. Then the movie screen dissolved away and all that was left was the mushroom cloud. A flash! And that incinerated everything.

At the time, I described what I saw to my parents. Dad told me what I was describing (A nuclear bomb going off) and I said to myself, "Wow". Then I felt sad for a few moments but then the feeling went away.

Now, getting back to the ghost experiences:

Our parents always denied experiencing these ghostly happenings for themselves, I believe, so that we wouldn't cause a panic. Or be frightened. It was already all they could handle with keeping us fed, clothed, schooled and so on, many times. So... no blame on them.

My sister can share her own experiences, that I might not know about, if she's willing.

Fun fact: The house has parts of it built from other parts of churches, for whatever reason. I've never looked into it, really. It may mean nothing at all.

We still don't like going into certain rooms of the house. If we do, it's with each other or someone else. We accept the whole phenomena as acknowledged fact between us.

Before my mom passed about five years ago, I remember going to this one place in town that holds a public event for paranormal/holistic type things. It was my first time there. A small bunch of guys were sitting at this table. They were an investigative team. I told them a few things that happened at the house. Of course, this paranormal research team wanted to come and investigate the house but my parents lived there at the time and I didn't want them to be put on public display, if that were to happen. I told them, "No thanks" and my reason for saying that. They accepted that answer after a few minutes of debate. I don't take chances with bad possibilities that have anything to do with our society like that.

I'm sure I left out a butt load of details but I think I've said enough.

That's the end of this post. Nighty night. Sweet dreams and all that rot. LOL.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Fortune Cookie Among Other Things

My wife had an endoscopy procedure done on her at the hospital, yesterday. Endoscopy procedure, you ask? You know. Tube down the throat with a camera or something that takes images of your throat and stomach. Her doctor wanted her to to have it done because he found blood in her stool. A colonoscopy (camera tube up the poop chute procedure) was done a few months ago and they found out she had a hemorrhoid that was bleeding. No cancer was found but they wanted to do the endoscopy later, anyway, to "be on the safe side". So, reluctantly, to "be on the safe side" I told her she might as well have that done, too though I felt the doctors were wanting to do something unnecessary for extra money or whatever. She didn't really want to have it done, either. We both felt the mystery of the bloody turd was found with the bloody 'roid. And really, if the doctor had just done a bit of poking around down there with just his finger, he could have found it on his own.

I recall, fondly, having a hemorrhoid checked out and my doctor said it looked like a little head of cauliflower sticking out of my asshole. I thought, how sweet. I've got "vegetable ass". My wife was in the examination room and she said it resembled a pink bud, just beginning to bloom. Good thing I was in one of my usual I-don't-give-a-shit moods. I chuckled to myself, with my ass hanging over the metal table, wishing I could cut a nice big fat fart on the both of them. I think they thought I was laughing because of their descriptions.

So they do the endoscopy and the doctor found she has a polyp in her stomach but it looks benign. Nothing cancerous or suspicious looking. Great news!
Four weeks from now, they want to discuss what, if anything, they want to do about that polyp. More medical bills. They're really racking up with my own health visits, procedures and medicines. You'll have to read my earlier posts if you want to know more about that.

After the endoscopy ends, with the whole thing lasting about 3 hours (waiting before the procedure, IV stuck in her arm, paperwork, tube down the throat and her coming out of it and so on), my wife is all doped up on Demerol and some other pain medication. We talk. An hour goes by. We leave, her hand in mine and proceed to our favorite Chinese restaurant. She had fasted close to fourteen or fifteen hours and was starved.

After downing four plates of food each (I know. I'm on a diet but I worked it off the next day. Promise.), the petite Chinese waitress comes over with the bill and a couple of fortune cookies. I eat them both. My wife hates them. The first one has a message that says something like "The sun rises in the morning sky like a hot air balloon". Is that supposed to be a fortune? The second paper from the other one reads:

Others appreciate your sensitivity

I know. It's funny because I'm a bastard. On the other side of the paper it reads:

Learn Chinese- Disease

Then, underneath that, it reads: (bing)

That's when I get up to take a monster shit. Pinching my cheeks together so hard you couldn't fit a credit card in my crack (at least not with that cauliflower in the way), I wobble my way to the restroom. Their toilet is cold, the room is cold and the seat is always wobbly. It's most likely that way because too many four and five plate eating bastards have been plopping their giant redneck white asses on it and causing it to become unhinged from the toilet. Just a guess.

After we get home, we plop into bed, with bellies straining to digest the multitudes of those dumpling things, sushi, peanut butter chicken and god knows what else.

Was that a happy ending or what? Wasn't it worth getting this far down? And haven't we all learned a great deal from this tale?

Monday, January 25, 2010

Fascinating: The Man Who Collects Mac and Cheese Boxes

Everyone should be inspired by this great man's goal: To own every kind of macaroni and cheese box in the world! Let us place this man's image upon our billboards and build gold plated churches in Ian Golder's honor.

Better yet, let's build the churches out of macaroni and cheese. Mmmmm.

Watch this strangely inspiring video and decide if he's a circus freak -or not. Or maybe he's just got an unusual hobby. I'll try to rustle up some sort of picture, as well. Ah, there it is. At the top now. Magnificent!

A little personal history for ya to munch on: My wife and I, when we were dirt poor, would get really creative with the Mac and Cheese Dinner. We eat still it the stuff -but it can't be the powdery stuff we did buy- every once in a great while.

We would, in one or various combinations, add the following:

Cut up hot dogs
Italian spices (that carried a lot of stuff sitting on our spice shelf)
Actually, any meat could be thrown in except cat meat. Or giraffe. We drew the line on that.

Here's the video clip from the show "Unwrapped". This episode was on tonight but it's a rerun. Still funny, in a weird way, though.

Friday, January 22, 2010

A Good Day

When you're able to take a brisk walk at the city park without dogs attempting to bite off your face, it's a good day. That's the kind of day it was, throughout. Today it was forty three degrees. Quiet. Serene. Trees that seemed to be itching to sprout leaves but unable to do so. And people walking to either lose weight or enjoy the walk by the beautiful fountains and gazebos. The park happens to be close to home. A plus. It's never too crowded, either. Most underused park in this county.

I walk there two or three times a week.

Before I continue, I want to state that I do like certain dogs. These certain dogs lick my hand instead of gnawing it off at the bone and are friendly in a non-hysterical barking kind of way. Yes, I'm a peace lover. Yippy yappy dogs irritate me.

A couple weeks ago, I encountered two dogs during a walk in the park (like I insinuated earlier) that were leashed, but hardly controlled by their owners. I guess they were the owners. It was two guys with camo/hunting clothing on. Nothing out of the ordinary in this redneck town.

Moving on: They were very aggressive large dogs. Note: I have a bit of dog phobia since I've been bit three times by three different dogs for no apparent reason. When I met these two guys and their barking dogs at the top of the path, I moved further away from them, half-afraid but more angry than anything else. The owners pulled on their leashes and the dogs kept moving closer to me. They were strong.

Their behaviour didn't seem to matter too much for the guys.

One of the guys (I mean assholes. Pardon me.) said what I knew what was eventually going to come out of his mouth or the friend's pie hole.

"Don't worry. They don't bite."

How many times have you heard that line from pet owners?

With my dog bite record and justifiable anger, that response sit well. I replied, "Yeah. Sure." They gave me the expected funny look and kept walking; as did I. Too bad I didn't have a taser gun. Just kidding. For the two guys. Okay. So maybe the dogs, too.

The next week I took my walk but I had a surprise in my coat pocket. As it so happens , I took my pet trainer device. It's a harmless device that emits a sound frequency that dogs, cats and I-don't-know-what to want to be very far away from it. This time, the dogs were quickly towing their owners away from me when I pushed the button on my pet trainer thingamajig. The guys were having a hell of a time trying to restrain the dogs, causing the guys to nearly trip and fall into one another.

That was fun and made the rest of my walk even more enjoyable. A good day, indeed.

Triumph The Comic Insult Dog

Triumph The Comic Insult Dog is freaking hilarious! This time the infamous dog/puppet visits the Bonnaroo music fest or you could call it the neo-hippy, smokin' love fest. Triumph takes them all down a notch. He funny, raunchy and a sarcastic lil' bastard.

Who does that remind you of?

This is a hulu clip. That means you have to endure a twenty second advertisement but it's well worth it. It's from the Tonight Show with Conan O' Brien.

You Will Be Tested On This

Keith Richards took out an insurance policy that will allow him to receive $1.8 million if he should ever accidentally cut off one of his guitar-playing fingers.

Real classifieds:
Fork, mangled, 50 cents. Also selling garbage disposal. Used once. Needs repair.
Free sundaes for Dads on Fathers Day (Dads must be 15 or older).

Giraffe meat is certified kosher.

In the past 30,000 years, the human brain has shrunk by about 12.5% (which could explain some things).

Hedgehogs are lactose intolerant.

An aura is the electromagnetic radiation that surrounds the bodies of living things and objects. The part that really interests aura readers is the radiation in the ultra violet (UV) part of the spectrum, which is connected to "conscious activity," such as thinking, emotions and inventions. There are some people who feel that it is possible to heal yourself by harnessing your aura.

In the 1960's, the Department of the Interior office revealed a plan to flood the Grand Canyon for use as a hydroelectric plant.

In 1992, the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission temporarily prohibited the sale of Dixie Blackened lager beer. There were no product violations with the beer. It was prohibited because the commission feared the name would encourage witchcraft, voodoo and other occult practices.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

This Burglar Is Not Worse Than Goldilocks

To me this is funny.

An eastern Pennsylvania man was charged after he allegedly broke into a home, cut his hair and prepared fried chicken before being discovered. The man was charged with breaking into the home in Easton, about 50 miles north of Philadelphia.

According to court documents, the homeowner returned home Sunday to discover him watching TV and cooking chicken.

Authorities said the man threw a rock through a front door window to get inside and appeared to have rummaged through every room in the house. He also took a shower.
The man faces burglary, criminal trespass and other charges and was being held on $15,000 bail.

Now, I have to admit. I enjoy a good visit, now and then, to someone's home. Sometimes they may even know about it. But preparing fried chicken and watching tv? I draw the line on that activity. Hell, you know what's going to happen after he eats a couple greasy thighs (the mouth waters) and watches your television for awhile.

He's going to want to take a big dump in your shitter and clog the damn thing up.

That's why the three bears were really angry with Goldilocks. It wasn't soup or broken chairs. They won't tell you this in the book but I will. The truth shall set ye free and relieved!


Oh. Excuse Me. I am now relieved.

No, the real reason the bears were so pissed at Goldy was that she clogged the shitter. Before that, though, she invited Mr. Wolf (infamous for the three little pigs fiasco). After a few beers and Margaritas, small talk led to foreplay, then foreplay led to all kinds of raucous sounds and disorderly behaviour going on. Madness. Pure madness.

The bears came home to bottles and glasses littering the floor and bed sheets covered with a strange goo. They were angry. "Evelyn", questioned Papa Bear, "You're not suffering from a another damn yeast infection, are you?"

Mama Bear looked at their bed, shaking her head, wondering, How will I ever get these sheets clean?

Goldilocks came out of the bathroom with a worn out appearance. The bears looked at her. She looked at them. Goldilocks asked, "So what the fuck are you lookin' at? And where's the candy and cigs? Don't you fuckers stock shit up around here for guests?"

Then all three bears attacked Goldilocks and completely devoured her but not before shoving a broken bottle up her ass first. The wolf witnessed this and decided to jump out of the window. Papa Bear ran out of the front door, caught the wolf and tore his larynx out with his sharp-as- knives teeth. As blood burbled out of the wolf's neck, the wolf cried for help, further infuriating Papa Bear. That was when Papa Bear bit a hole in the wolf's belly so big- that all of the wolf's intestines plopped out onto the ground. Papa Bear gobbled them up, as well, while the wolf watched and slowly died.

That's the truth.

6.1 Aftershock In Haiti

As if there wasn't enough trouble with saving the people there, movement of food, water and the trouble with the escalating violence, the Haitian people have to deal with a big aftershock magnifying their hellish existence. Here's a link to a source of information about that:

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Electronics Are Evil

Remember when stores just came out with those U-scans? They cheerfully declared them a machine that would ensure an easier, quicker way for the consumer to check out his or her stuff- so you can get the hell out of the store before some asshole you can't stand sees you and starts up an unwanted conversation when you just want to get home and relax. Just slide your package of crap across the scanner, listen for the little "beep" telling you your thing's bar code was picked up and ready to be set inside your bag. And don't forget, you better put it the bag right away or something bad will transpire.

The things you should regard, as you go through the process are:

As much as you think you're one smart monkey by avoiding the long lines with real human cashiers, the U-scan, approximately eighty percent of the time, will have an error/question/glitch happen with at least one of your items. When this frustrating development comes about and pushes you increasingly into full fruition as anger at the machine, perhaps causing you to rescan your thing dozens of times, at variable angles in the hopes it will go through, a wondrous miracle may occur. And I'm not talking about dropping dead to be done with this wretched society and all of it's "gotta-have-it" gadgetry .


This miracle will come in the form of a human being. Especially miraculous will be the good fortune of having that human being be a person that can actually help you. He or she will push some buttons, and perhaps, she will even make it work. Or not. It may take up to four different miracle workers to make it work. The cashier manager may have to be called. Maybe the store manager. Or God, himself. Though I doubt God would want to have anything to do with the useless piece of crap called a U-scan.

Cellphones are the work of the devil. There, I said it. Embrace it as truth!

I don't care what company or plan or brand you're using, you will eventually be in an area where the cellphone can't get a signal. This will occur when you need it to work desperately. Let's say your car has broke down during sub zero temperatures out in the middle of a land that time forgot- this will be the time your cellphone won't work. Maybe you can blame it on your surroundings, lack of signal towers (don't know what they're called for sure and don't care) or maybe the heat or ice has caused "the little gadget that couldn't" to pop and explode. Who knows? It doesn't matter. At the time when you need it most, it will fail. Piece of shit. The end.

Of course, let's not forget how annoying cell phones are when you're eating at a restaurant or in line for the u-scan and some asshole (it could even be you) gets one of those "clever little ring tone jingles" and the guy or girl is talking on it like it's greatest thing- that they got called so they can talk really loud and for a long time about something trivial like "maybe I should get that new Blackberry Piece of Shit Electronic Gadget that they advertise so I can waste more time and money."

Computers will also screw up. We all know that. Teeth gritting. Panic at meeting a deadline. The computer doesn't care. You can say it's human error or a hacker or the lack of an update or latest driver or whatever all you want. But you would think, even with all of the fancy-smancey repair programs and anti-spyware/anti-virus applications that's out there now, that computers have been around so long- so very fucking long- that they should be able to repair themselves of anything now- whether it be from human error or otherwise.

Cars are no different. I believe just about every car being manufactured nowadays (I'm never one hundred percent sure of anything) has an electronic "brain" or something like that. Eventually, because most cars are comprised of so many electronic components and this "brain", it will eventually fail. I fill the fluids and fix the small stuff on my own crapolas on wheels and that's it. I've never been interested in cars. Go ahead and rev that engine. Wank yourself silly, while doing so. After paying what you pay for this sad mode of transportation, it too will eventually fail. It can be a new vehicle. It can be old. It can be a hybrid. It can be a hovercraft type car from the future.

Sure, a real mechanic can correct me on this and that, concerning cars. I, in turn, will offer my utmost concern by shrugging and walk away. I hate cars. Any electronic that fails and cannot repair itself should self detonate next to some asshole talking on the cell phone about nothing.

In short, all electronics are worthless pieces of evil shit.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Joke by Patton Oswalt

"There used to be a time when you would come home, and reality was so crappy, you would turn on TV to watch stuff that people had made up, so that you could escape from the crappy reality. Now, you go out and deal with dickheads and morons all day, and you come home and go, 'I just want to go home so I can watch dickheads and morons on TV."

-Patton Oswalt, comedienne

Friday, January 15, 2010

Haiti Earthquake- Very Disturbing Images

I present this video as a statement to the Haitian people's strength, value as living, breathing lives and as a urgent message for the world's help- in whatever way you and the rest of the human race can. Remember: If you feel will not be able to stand to see these images, don't watch this!

The Haitian people need help NOW.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Bad jobs

Thought I would offer a humorous post to lighten things up a bit....

You have a bad job if the guy sitting behind you pins you against your office desk like this

You have a bad job if it entails holding a bag for an elephant to shit in.

You have a bad job if you're working at the top of a really high skyscraper

You have a bad job if you're holding a target for someone to shoot at

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Devastation For Haiti In Bodies and Spirits Due To Earthquake

It's hard to believe.

Likely, hundreds of thousands are dead because of the earthquake that crippled Haiti in more ways that can be expressed. As most people around the world now know, January 12, 2010 just yesterday, a 7.0 magnitude earthquake hit, crumbling churches, the capital buildings, schools, homes and most importantly, lives. Reporters say bodies litter the streets, everywhere there.

Generations to come will feel the after effects of this tragedy. I know from personal experience, to lose someone you love. Now think of the hundred of thousands that are dead now and every family member and friend connected to them. Buildings can be replaced.

Not the people you love.

The Haitian president and ambassador for Haiti have pleaded for first responders (especially those with dogs that can aid in finding people still buried in the rubble of buildings), doctors and medicine, donations are all needed.

Any information needs, desperately, to be spread of organizations accepting donations.

Here is my list but you can find more organizations over the Internet, local TV news channel programs, newspapers and so on.

The pain the people in Haiti must be feeling- well- really cannot be fully expressed in words. Just think- by chance, any one of us could be one of them.
A list of organizations that are responding to the situation in Haiti, including UNICEF, Catholic Relief Services, Lutheran World Relief and many others. Find more information at

The U.S. State Department suggested making donations by text message. If you text HAITI to 90999, a $10 donation to the Red Cross will be charged to your cell phone.
You can also make Red Cross donations online.
Other options:
Mercy Corps Donations
United Methodist Committee On Relief
Salvation Army
You can also click this link for information on how to help and more:

Monday, January 11, 2010

What You Can See At The Gym

I go to the community center in town. I'm trying to shed pounds to get my blood sugar count down and look halfway decent in a pair of swim trunks when I go on a cruise this summer. The center has a quiet workout gym, featuring treadmills, stationary cycles, weight lifting equipment, rowing machines and so forth. Best of all, it's free. The equipment is top notch. Clean towels. Those are the positives. And going down there four days a week does help me lose the weight.

So far, I've worked out next to several old flabby guys and gals who look like they could keel over from overexertion at any moment. Their faces get red. Some turn pale. Most are breathing hard and I think one of them exhaled deeply and relieved himself. I smelled something.

Precious moments.

Then you have the overachievers. The Type A go-getter personality group who run 60 mph on a treadmill for thirty or more minutes. Some of them even live long enough to take a towel and wipe the oceans worth of sweat off their brow. Are they showing off? What's the deal with that. Can I hook you up to some kind of machine or a giant, electrified hamster wheel at my place that will help keep my utility bill down? You run. I'll zap ya with a cattle prod. You know, for kicks.

Another group that amuses me and annoys me a bit are the 18 to 24 year olds with stick legs, running their asses off on the treadmills. I guess being anorexic isn't enough for them. They're shooting for being skeletal. Yeah, that's attractive. Bony, over tanned legs with the flat chest that usually accompanies them.

I'm usually watching one or both of the wide screen televisions above me. One will usually have Fox News on. If I'm lucky, and I usually am, in this respect, the sound will be off so I won't hear the biased, conservative, ridiculous comments being made . The other tv will feature a sports game. So I guess the gym staff figure you're either a jock or a jerk when you sign up. Anyway, it's free, quiet and clean. And there are big mirrors, below the tv, in front of you, so you can see who's huffing and puffing and about to hit the floor. Entertainment!

There's also a guy, part of the staff, who's a little on the slow side who asks if you need anything while you're exercising. He also limps. While I make a few un-politically correct jokes about such people in some of my posts, I don't think they're any less human than anyone else. But I do wonder about this guy, at times. Well, just one time. My wife went down today, for her second time since signing up and walked on the treadmill next to the stick leg girls. While just casually walking and doing her own thing, the slow guy mumbles and says, "Can I get you anything?" She said he was staring at her breasts for a long time.

I replied, "Well, maybe he was DUMBfounded by their size." Ha ha. Get it? I'm sorry. I'm bad. Hell has a special room for me, waiting. I feel bad. Maybe if I look at some nice big jiggly breasts, I will feel better.

Gratefully, the slow guy moved on to another woman carrying an oxygen tank with one hand and riding a stationary bike. He's a nice guy. He helps her to her car when she's ready to leave.

It can be an amusing and motivational time at the gym. And it's free. Did I mention that a few times already?

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Family Differences

Different people from my own family and my wife's family have went their own ways, either totally breaking it off and having no contact whatsoever or holding decades old grudges or acts of craziness too difficult to explain here. Sometimes a reconcilation happens, rarely, for the good or the bad. And then sometimes, those reconilations break apart again.

On my side of the family: intelligence, cruelty, unexpected behaviour, twisted humor and insanity seem to be the predominant traits of my relatives and myself.

On my wife's side of the family: Predictabilty, the inability to learn from past mistakes, demonstrative in showing love, slow- but not insane

Since the families on either side do not read my blog, I have no fear of retribution. Except from my ol' Auntie Kay. She's one of the insane. twisted ones. Steer clear of her!

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Discovery of Habitable Planet

Last month, a group of astronomers reported that a new planet, likely habitable, has been found by using regular sized telescopes. They say they can see that the planet has a lot of water despite it's high temperature. The astronomers head up a project called MEarth. It's a low budget project. Nothing like the multi-billion dollar projects Nasa has going on.

Space entrepreneur Jeff Manber says, "The planet is close – it’s 40 light years away. It’s not that hot – 400 degrees – and it has water, it seems to have an atmosphere."

In the video interview below, Manber, when asked why this an amazing discovery, says it is a great thing because it means we have another planet to possibly move to once this one is ruined. He doesn't say that in those exact words but, to me, was the gist of his statement.

Check out this video. It explores the possibility of other habitable planets just outside our solar system. It is interesting but I have to tell ya, I have two problems with this newly discovered planet. One, 400 degrees is too hot for me. I burn easily just being in the sun for ten minutes. And two, 40 light years away? Are we in the warp drive Star Trek Era already? Also, do we really really need to infest, er, I mean- inhabit another world (and kill the shit out of that one, too?) Just askin'?

Check out the MEarth Website for more detailed information. It's intriguing. And I'm not sure many know about this recent discovery.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Snow And The Fun Ahead

The snow keeps coming down here in Indiana. Off and on, it comes in big heavy spurts, then a light flurry. It started to fall during the morning work rush hours, of course. Snow never falls when it's supposed to fall. But really, is there ever a good time?

A little boy was shoveling snow in our apartment complex parking lot, despite the fact his uncovered paths were covered back up minutes afterwards. I admired his efforts. For over an hour, he was out there shoveling away, full of determination. He finally gave up and went back inside. Which is good. Otherwise, with the temperature being in the twenties, he would likely become a three foot, hooded Popsicle.

I watched the tv news earlier today and they were showing video clips, repeatedly, of accidents that have occurred on the interstates and highways. Each local news program have their own reporters going out on these interstates and highways, showing and telling the viewers how much snow is on the roads and the various people that they stop to ask how they're faring on the roads. You will never see them go on a back country road, where the huge amounts of unplowed (normally) snow is. Ha ha. That's where the real action is. And it's always the same questions and usually, the same answers given during those short, useless interviews, as well.

Now here's a question I would like to hear asked, but never is:

"Do you really need to be driving on the road during this time?"

Ah, the craziness of most folks. But then, I wouldn't have much a blog without them, would I?

Now, as I look out the window, a gang of screaming child beasts, are snowboarding and sledding down our sloping parking lot, falling down, sliding underneath or near parked cars- like mine. Of course, when they get hurt, the parents will try to sue the landlord or the owner of the vehicle they supposedly were injured by instead of doing the right thing: Discipline and watch their kids. You know, parenting.

Years from now, these little hairless monkeys with little or no common sense will go on to college, continue their brainwashing societal indoctrination and hold down overpaid jobs where their bad decision making will effect the public and individuals in numerous and heartbreaking ways. Though hopefully, by their ripe time of adulthood (if that's what you would like to call it), Earth will have completely shaken us off like the diseased ridden fleas that we are with floods, famine, earthquakes, massive hurricanes and so on. Anyone with common sense can see that process is already underway these days. And good golly, you can see that we are all so very concerned and the big industrial nations (the worst contributors of global warming) are certainly taking real action. Sure.

Then, after some time has passed and only traces of our existence is left, another civilization will arise to build, make war, pollute, worship power and currency, repeat our past mistakes and well .... repeat it all again. Just as before.

Keep your fingers crossed! Sarcasm intended. Also: In tribute to the human race, I just cut loose a small, yet delicate fart.

Anyhooo, I hope my wife gets home safe through all of this shit outside. Snow/ice is fucking dangerous and worthless. Only skiers, snowboarders, kids and the like enjoy this crap.

I hope anyone reading this remains safe and warm during this winter season. This time, no sarcasm.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

They're Selling This?

Monday, January 4, 2010

Fiber Optic Tree and A Card Trick

The other day, my wife's friend, forwarded something to her in an email. Usually, I look forward to forwards before I check my email like I look forward to butt hole lips in a bowl of bean soup. Forwards in an email, as most of you know, have this god-awful knack of containing either jokes you've read and/or heard before or other items of crapola that neither entertain or inform. How many goddamn prayers do I need to read, for Christ's sakes?

Well, in my case, since I'm damned for eternal hell fires, anyway, the answer to that is zero or-- Who gives a rat's ass, anyway? My grandpa was fond of saying that last question time to time.

But getting back to this forward she received...

Here it is. A card trick. OOoooh. Aaahh. And so forth. Maybe you have seen it before, in which I would dissolve into a squishy bag of tears with my deepest concerns scenting those same tears or maybe I wouldn't. Or maybe I would care a lot. Frrrrrttttt.

If you do as instructed, you may be surprised. I'm pitchin' a tent just thinking about it. Gosh.

It's a card trick. Concentrate on a certain card. Sure, you can do it. I have monumental faith in you. Eh, yeah. Keep the card in mind. A few instructional (or something) pics later, and WALLAH! (no, I'm not speaking Hindu) your card is gone. I tried it 3 times and every time--my card was picked.

Pretty cool.

Almost as cool as the fiber optic tree on my living room table. I have watched it for hours. Glowing purple on one batch of fiber optics (so cleverly, but not really) made to look like real pine needles. The purples turn to blues, the blues into greens, the yellows into---

Are you getting the picture? And no, I was sober and stuff. Just not sane

And yes, click the picture to enlarge each picture. It will help, unless your eyes have been equipped with magnifying glasses. Then you won't need to do so.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

At Least There's The Cruise, the Beautiful Water and The Islands

First off, I know how terribly late I am in doing this but I will anyway--
Happy New Year, Everyone!
This past year, as least I believe, has been one of changes and extremes- for this world's population and I.
I could name off the election and inauguration of a black man into the presidency, a recession where corporations gladly took the taxpayer's money and gave themselves outrageous bonuses or the heroics of a pilot, crash landing in the Hudson bay, saving lives by remaining calm and using good judgement in everything he did during the incident. But why bother?
But those big important moments and more I haven't mentioned, which the media has hashed and rehashed for ratings and profit purposes, has already been covered to death.
My own big changes have come by way of me beginning to fight my way out of depression and slowly, yet surely, become healthier. It's been a battle. One that I'm just beginning. You can read more about that in my most recent posts.
What I didn't include was the problems with my dad.
My dad, who suffers from dementia, severe hearing loss, an almost complete lack of tact when around family member or others and a verbally abusive, negative attitude that hasn't helped me get better, unfortunately. I help him whenever possible. Honestly, I do this halfway out of love and halfway from the screwed up guidance of my old friend, guilt. I take him here and there for errands or moving things in and out and around his house or whatever he needs or thinks he needs. Eighty percent of the times we're together, an argument erupts during the 6 to 8 hours I spend with him two to three days of the week.
If the argument is bad enough, I try not to speak to him for close to a week in order to bring some semblance of truce back to our relationship.
My sister takes care of his finances. She is his Power of Attorney. She has had her own drama with Dad. For the moment, he has someone else that cleans his house, do dishes and on. Dad has a special hobby, I should add. He likes to throw everything on the floor. My sister and I clean up the little obstacle courses on the floors, still, and inevitably, it will be the same the next day. He creates a monumental amount of stress with my sister and I and it will only worsen (maybe) when we finally get him settled into the assisted living place.
We'll see. Maybe, and I'm thinking in terms of a normal, non-verbally abusive, semi-cooperative person, he will create or establish decent relationships (I'd settle for no trouble) there with the rest of the residents living under the same roof.
Like the post title says, I least I have a cruise to look forward to that my wife and I are going on this summer. I can't wait. It has been twenty one years since we, just us, really went away somewhere. Unless you count the place a hundred miles above us. We made plans with our travel agent for our flight to Florida, the excursions on the three islands we're visiting and other itinerary. I'm even going to try my hand at snorkeling. I can't wait to experience the clear blue water, the beaches and marine life. Most of all, I cant wait to experience the peace of the being out on the water for seven days, look out at the grandeur at the big moon, the light hitting the water. That's what it's really about. The peace.
Hopefully no one or group will ruin our trip somehow.
I might not come back. Now that would be a fantasy!
Unfortunately, the insanity and chaos others have created for me here, have secured my future here. But I can dream, can't I?
The above picture is one of Orient Bay, in St. Maarten. That is one of the beautiful islands we're going off to port. The more I look at this picture (I have it on the backround of my monitor), the more I wish I were there now.
God, to be in peace.
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