Tuesday, July 29, 2008

my stressful job and my mee maw and my old dog and paycheck day

Dear Sweezey,

I didnt know being a security officer professional had so many responsibility's. Not only do I have to keep up w/ my sit of keys at night, but a flashlight and company issued duty belt that half way fits me. I also am confused about my brake times, noone has tooken responsibilty to tell me when to take my brake!!!!!!!I have a duty belt that has the sticky stuff on it and you wrap it around you and it sticks..... I am right handed and my night stick is on my left side and i have to situate it every freaking time i come on my shift! The company issues me keys and i have to keep up with them but they fall out easily because the pants are fucking cheap and slick!!!!! I bring my dog on shift and i have been writted up on it because why shouldn't I be able to bring my got damn fucking dog on duty if the police can?I GOTS ME A GERMAN SHEPPARD AND I USE IT TO HELP ME ON DUTY!!!!!!!!

I have several issues with the department and i will be going to talk with my leutenant or corporal wiggins if the chief isnt available....DRAMA...DRAMA...DRAMA..still at my ole age of 46!IT just aint fair got damn it, and my mee maw is mad and upset because THIS COMPANY DOES NOT DO ME THE FUCK RIGHT AND I WILL BE TELLING THEM ABOUT MY PANTS!EVERY FUCKING TIME I PUT SSOMETHING IN THEM THEY WANT TO FALL THE HELL OUT - That is putting me in danger! What if i lost my keys at night or my cell phone and i gots me an emergency????????


- Security Patrol

Dear Security Patrol,

What is unbelievable, or as you put it “UN BELIEVEABLE”, is how you are 46 years old and this damn stupid. Who in the hell hired you to do security? I wouldn’t let you guard my doghouse. Seriously, how did you get this job or any job for that matter? I think what amazes me the most is that you sent this via a computer. I am astonished.

So you didn’t know that being a security guard had so many “responsibility's”. I didn’t know that responsibility could possess something. And you have to keep up with a “sit” of keys? You mean a set? I know, those vowels can be tricky. Sounds like your belt is too big, yes? Well poke a hole in it to make it fit. Problem solved.

Just what is it that you have to stop or slow down? And you can only do it at certain times? Oh you mean break times, like taking a break, not like brakes on a car. Oh, well the reason that you are confused is because you are a complete tool. Yeah, if you had walking around sense you would probably be able to figure complex things like break times out. And just what is a “noone” and how would it “tooken responsibilty”?

So this duty belt that you have has something sticky on it? Well wipe it off goober. You really are retarded aren’t you?

Nightstick is on the left side and you are right handed, whew tough one. Maybe you can take the night stick out with your left hand? Or maybe you can flip the belt over and it will be on the right side! Novel idea huh! Wait a minute, who in their right mind gave you a nightstick?!

Keep loosing your keys huh, why don’t you put them in your pocket! Or maybe hold on to them or something wild like that? Maybe get one of those cool belt clip things that retract like a measuring tape? Dude, where you dropped on your head or something?

So you got writted up huh. Can’t help you there.

Why shouldn't you be able to bring your “got damn fucking dog on duty if the police can?” Well maybe because your not a police officer and because the police know the difference between God and got. “GOTS” you a German Sheppard huh, what you “GOTS” is a low IQ. Tell you what, take that nightstick and hold it tight with both hands with your arms out in front of you. Now swing it right between your eyes as hard as you can. If it hurts you are not doing it hard enough, keep tying.

This has got to be a joke right. You’re drunk or something right? There is no helping you.

- Sweezey

Don’t get dead

Is it okay to tell a woman she's beautiful?

Dear Sweezey,

I'm walking through the store yesterday and I see this woman who is absolutely stunning. She obviously spent a lot of time and effort to look that good. I felt compelled to tell her how nice she looked but didnt wanna come off as a creepy guy.

I had no intention of asking for her phone number or anything like that, I just think that if someone looks nice you should tell them.

So what do you think ladies would do if some guy they have never met comes up and says, "you look really nice today"?

Would they take it as a compliment or mace the punk?

- Mall Guy

Dear Mall Guy,

Let me get this straight, you DON’T want to ask out a woman who you refer to as “stunning”? You are GAY! And creepy. Well, if you’re not gay, you are on the waiting list. If she was ugly would you ask her out? I don’t get it.

Do you honestly think that this woman went out in public looking “stunning” by accident? Hell no, she did it on purpose. You want to know why? To attract men. So by you not asking her out you are doing nature a severe injustice. I would even say that you are insulting her by not asking her out if you do approach her. How rude of you not to ask her out! Would you come up to random black men and tell them that they don’t look like criminals? Would you come up to random middle-easterners and tell them that they don’t look like terrorists? Would you walk up to random white dudes and tell them that they don’t look like NASCAR fans? Why would you walk up to this random lady and insult her? If she took the time to make herself “stunning” grow a set and ask her out.

If I was her and you just walked up and told me that I “look really nice” and left it at that. I would mace you, kick you in the nuts, call the cops and look for your picture on a sex offender website.

You do know that something like that is just screaming I am going to get a picture of you in my mind so that I can think about you when I have some “alone time”. Damn son, quit being pervy and think about what you are doing.

Idiots… I swear.

- Sweezey

Don’t get dead

Maxim Hurricane Advice

Recently Maxim magazine had an article giving advice on how to survive a hurricane. In this article they gave you a list of supplies that one would need to pick up prior to the hurricane hitting land. Things like a camping stove, a hand-crank radio, an LED headlamp and so on. And they told you why you will need them. Then the article went on to tell you what to do when the hurricane hits landfall. Stuff like where to go and what to have with you. And it seemed like pretty good advice. They even gave advice as to what to do in the aftermath. Things like how to cook without everyone coming over to eat your food (how neighborly) and how to catch rain water and so on. Again, sounds like pretty sound advice.

I think that I might have better advice. GET THE HELL OUT OF TOWN. If you know a hurricane is coming, leave! It’s not like the hurricane snuck up on you. You can see them coming for DAYS. Leave, skedaddle, go, run, take-off, haul-ass, shoo! How many different ways do you need to be told to get away from the danger?

But I guess simply telling people to get out of the path of the storm in one sentence doesn’t really sell a lot of magazines does it?

Don't get dead

Tuesday, July 22, 2008


Another blog that someone responded too was my “More Stupid Sayings” blog. Now typically I don’t respond or post a blog every time I get a comment. I love the comments, please post more, if you aren’t being a buffoon I wont blog about you, promise. But this comment needed a reply.

So here is what “Buck” had to say.

And I quote “well. my life really is on hidden camera. they wont let met quit either. they torture me psychologically constantly. they cough at me, talk to me in my sleep causing horrid dreams - and they won't quit. i'm sure it's very successful but the are very clever - my internet is cansored so i can't find information. this is no joke - you must know who I am. somebody send me some info these sadists are driving me crazy. i need help please”

Hey Buck, why don’t you ask them to teach you spelling and grammar while they are talking to you in your sleep? Leave it on a sticky note on your forehead or something. And you know that key on your key board that says “Shift”? If you hold it down it will make a capital letter. We use capital letters at the beginning of sentences and when using the word “I”. Look I just did it right there when I held down “Shift” and the “l” key. It’s really not that hard. Give it a shot.

What the hell is cansored? You mean censored? I know those vowels can be confusing so I will give you that one. But how in the hell did you spell psychologically correct and fuck up censored?

But sorry Buck, I don’t know who you are. I am pretty sure I don’t know any illiterate, babbling simpletons.

Don’t get dead.

Dear Sweezey follow up

So I got a couple of response to some of my blogs which I have been meaning to address. So I will do that now.

The first one is where someone had something to say about my Dear Sweezey – Dating after 40 blog.

She wrote "I will never whore it up. I will be myself to the day maggots feast on my dead body, even if that means sitting at home every Friday night having a date with a scoop of ice cream and whipped topping. And men-here is a note for you: I
don't want to ever catch you bitching "That fucking bitch took half. Why did I ever get married?". "All she wants is my dinero" crap. YOU are the one who wanted a bitch. There are plenty of great women out there. Stop going to that same pub every night. That might help. Losers." – Anonymous

Dear Anonymous,

Thanks for helping me prove my point. I was giving "Dating after 40" advice on getting dates and a man. If she wanted advice on getting hips the size of Buicks I would have steered her in your direction.

And don't try to use my blog as a place for you to give advice to men. First off, men aren't going to listen to you because you are very bitter and don't care about your self image. Secondly men don't care if you want to catch them bitching about anything or not. Don't flatter yourself by thinking that anyone cares.

I am guessing that you consider yourself one of those "great women" that you speak of. So how are guys supposed to meet you while you are trying all of the 31 flavors and watching Wheel of Fortune on Friday nights?

I do find it funny that you call men who go out and have a social life "losers" while you started your comment by saying that you are happy sitting at home every Friday night having a date with a scoop of ice cream. So keep shoveling the Häagen-Dazs down your throat and being mad at the world, it works for you.

- Sweezey

Don't get dead

I need a vacation

Yep, I need a place to get away, a place to escape it all, a place to relax, a place to leave my worries behind. Somewhere that is stress free, somewhere that all you have to do is be there, somewhere where everyone is smiling and having fun. A vacation that regenerates, a vacation that puts a smile on ones face, a vacation that you would cherish for the rest of your life.

But we all know that shit aint going to happen.

I tell people that we don’t have vacations, we have adventures. And there is always a story to tell.

Just like this one trip to Panama City Beach. It was the usual crew of us headed down to the Redneck Rivera for a week of fun in the sun, some sub-tropical nightlife, a little relaxation and a whole lot of being …what is the word I am looking for … mischief!

Let me lay the ground work on this trip. Our sole purpose on this trip was to get hammered, past that we had not thought it out. We knew that we needed clean underwear and beer, everything else was a luxury. We had secured a room at one of the miracle strips finest establishments, but only because someone in our party knew someone or something. I don’t remember exactly what floor we were on but it was once of the upper floors, oh and this hotel was shaped like on open parenthesis “(“. This part plays an important role later on.

On the day we leave we all met at one of the groups’ house. From there we all loaded up the convoy of vehicles that where about to make the trip south and we headed out. About an hour and a half later we were there and ready to get this party started. We check in, get the keys and start to “relax”. And most of this trip was great, except for one night.

On this particular night as the sun was beginning to set we were hanging out on the balcony of the room and just being social with other people in the hotel. Shortly pretty much everyone in the hotel was on their balcony. There were a bunch of guys getting this girl across the way to flash everyone and some people a couple of floors down from us had a funnel/beer bong made out of three garden hoses and they were passing it around from rooms to rooms. It was huge. They made it from three 25 foot hoses, two of which where at the top connected to the bottom hose with one of those Y shaped hose connectors. The top two hoses had these big funnels attached to the hoses and the bottom hose had this shut off valve, it was pretty cool. So yeah, there was a bit of drinking going on. Then everyone’s attention turned to the pool, there was this guy who would get everyone really loud and then he would run and do a flip into the pool. Then he would get out drink some more, get everyone loud again, run and do a flip into the pool. This went on for a while and then you see patio chairs flying into the pool. Not to worry, it’s not getting out of hand or anything, just those chairs needed washing. And apparently a lot of other people thought that their chairs needed washing too because they tossed their chairs in too. Then for some reason people started to throw food into the pool. That was weird. We saw eggs and hotdogs and all kinds of crap come flying off of various balconies.

My guess is that at this point the management of the hotel was not very happy. A few members of the hotel staff came out to the pool area and tried to get everyone to calm down to no avail. I will give them credit, they tried.

After the hotel staff left a rousing cheer came from all of the balconies as if we had defeated some huge force. When in fact it was 500 drunk kids trying to be calmed by 6 people. At that point the odds weren’t in the staff’s favor. Back to just general rowdiness and chest thumping!!

After a few minutes local law enforcement showed up. We knew something was up by the way that the people on the first two floors balconies shoot into their rooms at light speed. Four or five sheriffs’ deputies are in the pool area sort of half-heartedly trying to get us to calm down which really did very little. They had a little pow-wow on the pool deck and then it looked like they just split up and walked around with one arm up in the air each and then… well they just left.

Again a rousing cheer comes from the group. But then, as if it was choreographed, floor by floor people were ducking into their rooms.

Remember the part about the hotel being shaped like ( <- that? And that this hotel was on the beach? Well the wind blows from the water to the beach and it would blow right up the hotel. So if someone say, sprayed something it would carry UP the hotel. So yeah, they mace’d us. Floor by floor you see people ducking into their rooms and shutting the doors. When it hit us it wasn’t as bad as it could be but it was enough to make us cough and our eyes and nose burn. But, but, but, but there were more of us than there was of them, how did this happen? Damn physics!

Don’t get dead.


Saturday, July 12, 2008


After a beer or two, or eight or so, I got to thinking about colors. Don’t ask why because I really don’t know why. But I was thinking about them. And I was wondering why red gets the shaft.

Pretty much every color has a light and a dark, but red. Almost like adding some black to a color and you get a dark what ever and by adding some white you get a light what ever. Black and white are exceptions. You can’t get darker than black or lighter than white. And if you try to lighten black or darken white you get grey so that is the exception. But you have light and dark blue, light and dark green, light and dark brown, yellow and so on.

But red is treated differently. Light red is pink and dark red is crimson or maroon. What kind of BS is that?

There is something about purple and lavender or something but I am having a hard time focusing on that right now.

But why did red get the shaft? Or is it that red is getting special treatment?

Oh hell, I don’t know.

Don’t get dead

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Gas prices are so high that they are affecting hookers?

Another news story that I just saw says …

Brothel offers customers gas rebate
Wed Jul 9, 12:18 PM ET

NEW YORK (Reuters) - A Nevada brothel is trying to stimulate business by offering free gasoline.

Clients of the Shady Lady Ranch will get a $50 gas voucher if they fork out $300 -- worth about one hour's worth of services -- at the brothel in Beatty, Nevada, 130 miles northwest of Las Vegas.

Owner James Davis said he already has had to order another $1,000 set of gas vouchers because the first $1,000 were spent in one week.

"It's rocking along. We're doing quite well. June and July historically are not big months," said Davis, who is co-owner of the brothel along with his wife Bobbi, in a telephone interview.

The $50 rebate would roughly cover the cost of a round trip drive from Las Vegas to the ranch.

Davis said business at the ranch, which has been operating for 16 years, generally slows in the early summer. He said the brothel regularly offers specials to lure clients and his wife came up with the gas vouchers for this month.

U.S. gasoline prices hit a record $4.08 a gallon last week, up 38 percent from a year ago.

Brothels, illegal in most U.S. states, are legal in parts of Nevada.

Man, that’s messed up.

Somewhere in there is an “ass, gas or grass” joke but I just can’t come up with it.

I guess the thing that strikes me as funny about this is that I can picture a couple of guys sitting around a Vegas hotel room where the conversation goes a little bit like this.

Dude 1 – “Dude, we are in Vegas baby!! Woohoo!!”

Dude 2 – “Yeah man and what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!”

Dude 1 – “Damn straight brother!”

Dude 2 – “Just think of all of the stuff we will tell our friends about when we get back to
West Virginia (or where ever)”

Dude 1 – “Yeah bro! Hey, let’s go get some hookers!! That would so rock!”

Dude 2 – “I would man but all of the brothels are like 130 miles away and gas is like $4.00 a gallon. Even though we just paid $200 a night for this room and $1,000 in airfare and the sex will cost us $300 an hour each.”

Dude 1 – “Good point, I wish we had a $50 pre-paid gas card, that would rule”

… dumbasses

Don’t get dead


Note to self; pass out on the floor…

As I was reading some on-line news today I came across this story and it got me to thinking.

Woman kills husband with folding couch

By Denis Pinchuk
Wed Jul 9, 12:17 PM ET

ST PETERSBURG (Reuters) - A Russian woman in St Petersburg killed her drunk husband with a folding couch, Russian media reported on Wednesday.

St Petersburg's Channel Five said the man's wife, upset with her husband for being drunk and refusing to get up, kicked a handle after an argument, activating a mechanism that folds the couch up against a wall.

The couch, which doubles as a bed, folds up automatically in order to save space. The man fell between the mattress and the back of the couch, Channel Five quoted emergency workers as saying.

The woman then walked out of the room and returned three hours later to check on what she thought was an unusually quiet sleeping husband.

Police refused to comment.

The St Petersburg Emergency Services Ministry said a private rescue service removed the man's body.

Video on the television channel's website showed emergency workers sawing away the side panels of a couch to remove a man in his underwear lying headfirst between the cushions.

Emergency workers said the man died instantly.

So not only did she kill him, she left and came back later because he was sleeping too quietly. She was about to F him up royally. You know the words “get your lazy, drunk ass out of that couch!” were being said as she walked in.

And I got a feeling that she’s not some dainty little 5 foot tall 100 pound blond. I bet she looks like the caption of the Russian women’s wrestling team. I bet that she can bench press a Volvo.

Let’s play this forward, say she gets acquitted or what ever and somehow a guy is crazy enough to date here. Then they fall in love and decide to get married. Then they go to pick out “their” furniture. How nervous is this guy going to be? You know he will be checking out all of the crevasses in every piece of furniture. Do you think he will flinch every time she picks up a lamp? I mean you would have to be leery of anyone who uses furniture to kill people. Do you think for her that going to Haverty’s is like going to a gun and knife show for the Beltway Snipers?

Let me just say that you know this is one bad bitch if she killed her husband with a Futon!

Don’t get dead

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