Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Some people

I don’t know if it is that I attract some of the most “interesting” people in the world or if other people just brush of stuff that I fixate on, but I have heard people say things that astonish me. I am not talking anything that is stunning to hear, just pompous.

For example, while talking to this guy at a party once he tells me, “I am really funny”. Now this was during a conversation, he didn’t just walk up to me and proclaim his inherent hilarity. But I had to ask if people tell him that he was funny all of the time and that’s why he said it and he tells me, “No, I just know that I am funny”. A dumbass is what you are. If no one tells you that you are funny but you “know” that you are funny, you’re an idiot.

Don’t get me wrong, I think people should be proud of who they are but there comes a point where pride is taken over by ignorance.

Just like another time I was talking to a different guy and he was telling me how smart he was. Something like this:

Him – “Yeah, I know I am smarter than most people”

Me – “Really, how is that?”

Him – “Well I have a genius IQ”

Granted genius boy did go and graduate from college but it’s not like he went to MIT or any of the Ivy League schools. And matter of fact, I know that he spent several months in jail. Which is sad because it means that he isn’t smart enough to not get caught and I know dumbasses who have done illegal stuff and didn’t get caught.

What is it that causes some people to come out and blatantly brag on themselves like that? Is something missing from their life and the feel the need to compensate? Or is it that I give off the “enlighten me with your greatest skill” vibe or what? Typically if you watch award shows of interviews with some athletes the person receiving the praise is a bit humbled. I know not always but they are also either giving an acceptance speech or being interviewed. I doubt highly that Peyton Manning comes up to people at parties and says, “You know, I am a pretty damn spectacular football player”.

The thing that is funny about all of this is that, at least in my experiences, these people are dead wrong. Smart guy went to jail, funny dude is more like sad and every chick that I know who bragged on how well they gave head was wrong too. I just wish people would go in the other direction. Tell me what you do really shitty so I wont even consider asking you to do that.

If some guy came up to me and told me that he couldn’t cook to save his life, I would take his word for it and I wouldn’t come over for dinner. And if some dude told me that he was bad with money I wouldn’t take investment tips from him. If some guy where to tell me, “Man, I can’t fly for shit” I wouldn’t let him pilot a plane that I was going to travel in. But they don’t people only tell you self-inflating things.

Oh and something’s that aren’t said but more “presented” to the public are just as bad. Look, if you feel that you are the best looking thing to ever walk the earth and there isn’t a humble bone in your body, I got some bad news for you. Don’t get me wrong, confidence is sexy, very sexy. But overconfidence is comical, VERY comical. And while I am on the looks/sex appeal thing, I know that I am not the most studly man in the history of the world, but I don’t perceive myself like that either, so I got a little room to talk. Some of you people out there need mirrors, grooming tips and fashion advice.

Guys, trim your damn nose hair. Make it a habbit. And fellas if you ride with the windows down in your car, carry a brush. I doubt highly anyone goes into Toni & Guy asking for the Buckwheat hair style. And guys, since the weather is getting cooler, don’t wear your gold chains on the outside of your turtle neck shirts. This includes mock turtle neck shirts as well. What else, oh yeah, if you are going to wear sandals trim those damn Fritos scoops toenails.

Ladies, I got some advice for you too. First off, if your tits are touching your belt while you are standing straight up, you need a bra that fits right. Spend the couple of extra bucks and stop bra shopping at the dollar store. And if you do fit this mold, don’t you even think about wearing a low cut top, udder cleavage is nasty. You probably got some kind of tit-cheese growing in there and that is nasty. I love a good set of boobs (do I ever!), but if your girls look like a potato hanging in a pair of pantyhose no one wants to see that. Secondly, you know when your roots are showing just like the rest of us do, fix them. And just because something comes in your size don’t mean that it is appropriate for you to wear it. I could get my big ass in a thong Speedo bathing suit, but I don’t. Mainly because I don’t want to mentally scar anyone. And finally, work the features that you get compliments on. Not compliments from your mom or your boyfriend/husband but compliments from everyone. If you ask your husband if your ass looks big and he tells you no and that he loves your ass because you got a sexy ass, he is trying to avoid hurting your feelings. But if a casual co-worker tells you that your butt looks good while you are at lunch or in the ladies room or something like that, go with it. Promote your assets, so to speak. But just because your ass or chest is big by no circumstance means that it is attractive. Again, if you are the only one who thinks it, don’t accentuate or promote it.

I don’t know, I could be wrong.

Don’t get dead.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Looking back – Chapter 15

Every now and then I remember something from my life that I feel the need to write about, put on the web and embarrass myself about in front of the world. This would be one of those times.

With Halloween right around the corner and we are decorating the offices some co-workers and I were discussing what to dress up as that goes with our theme. I don’t know if I have ADD or something but I started to laugh a little bit to myself. And if you read here you will see that sometimes I get the giggles at the wrong time.

Of course people wanted to know what I was laughing about and I told them that it just reminded me of something and that it wasn’t really related. Well these people work with me so they know I got stories, so I had to tell this one. Although it doesn’t relate to Halloween, Christmas actually, it does relate to dressing up.

Several years ago I lived in Virginia and I met and ran with a pretty crazy bunch, read about it HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE. This time was no different.

Let me set the scene for you, four guys (myself, Drew, Winters and Phil) who can’t get home for Christmas who decided to meet at Winters house in VERY rural Virginia. The reason we were not able to get to our home towns was mostly money. Since we had saved money but didn’t save enough, you have four young adult guys with a decent load of cash and nothing to do, so yeah we got pretty drunk. Now we are drunk and bored, not good, not good at all.

We decided that we would go spread some Christmas cheer to the other townspeople. But not without the proper attire, so we raided Winters moms closet. (Side note, Winters family is all in California, which is where his mom was at this time) I don’t recall exactly who had what on but between the four of us there was a rain hat like the Morton salt guy, someone else had on the rain coat, a big cotton bath robe, some wild hats and various other items. I do remember that I had on some sort of silky robe and a beret or something like that. Oh and Phil had on some sort of house shoes shaped like ducks. Big ass yellow rubber ducks.

So we all loaded into my car, MY CAR, MY DAMN CAR, and head off to a neighboring town. As we are rolling down one street Drew yells out “STOP!” Now I have no idea what for so I stopped pretty quickly. Genius boy hops out of the car and runs into someone’s front yard toward a string of lights which were adorning the top of a fence. About half way through the sprint, Drew does an about face and DIVES back in the car yelling, “GO GO GO!!!” So I stood on the gas to get out of there. We all asked as the same time, “what happened?!” He tells us that he wanted to see if it was true that if you pulled one light out the whole string would go out, so that’s why he hoped out but he said he heard a man say “Oh no you don’t!” followed by the sound of a pump shotgun cock.

Once we are safely away we all got a chuckle out of it and we are still riding through town. It would be just about the time that our blood pressure had gotten back to normal levels that we pass THE ONLY FUCKING SHERRIF CAR ON DUTY that night when one of the guys says it looked like it was on the CB and pointing at our car. We joked that he was saying, “Hey, there goes a (my color and make of car) right there”. Well I will be dammed if that isn’t what he was saying because he bird-dogged our asses so quick we had no idea what was going on. It had to look like someone was getting it on as we are shedding our incognito attire and cramming beers any and everywhere we could find. Just about the time that we pull off our “costumes” we hear the sheriff over his PA system say, “You two in the front seats, get out of the car” so Drew and I get out and they separate us and ask us what was going on.

I am with the sheriff and he doesn’t look real happy while Drew is with a deputy. The only thing that kept going through my mind was “don’t get a DUI on Christmas in this godforsaken town out in the middle of nowhere”. I am sure that the dueling banjos scene from “Deliverance” was playing too. The sheriff asked me what we were up to and I told him everything, hell I would have given him a reach around if I thought it would keep me from going to jail that night. So I tell my story and then they open the back doors of their car and tell us to get in, OH FUCK ME! So there we are in the back seat when the sheriff asks Drew what we were up to and he starts to lay on some BS about one of the guys in the back seat farted and how it was making him sick, which is why he jumped out of the car. In about a half second I had to decide if I was going to choke this asshole in the back seat of a sheriff’s car or if I was going to have to set the story straight. Fortunately, I chose the second one. The whole time making promises to God if he would keep me out of jail. So Drew and I are exchanging dirty looks while the sheriff and the deputy are taking down our information.

Shortly there after, they get out of the car and opened the doors to the back seat and told us to step out. After we got out they told us to stay there and the sheriff gets on the PA again and tells the two in the back seat to get out.

Now you would have thought that in the SEVERAL minutes that had passed while Drew and I were being questioned that the two jackasses in the backseat would have gotten their collective shit together, WRONG!

I am standing next to the sheriff by the drives door and Drew is standing next to the deputy on the passenger door of their cruiser. Winters and Phil get out of the car and Phil is still wearing the duck slippers. I look over and the cops have saucer eyes and raised eyebrows. It was at this time that I had an involuntary reaction, I blurted out, “OH FUCK ME!” I thought that I was home free and then dildo Phil, Phildo, is wearing the damn duck slippers still.

The sheriff motions them over and the six of us have a little pow-wow, where at one point the sheriff says, “It appears to me that you boys might have been doing a little drinking tonight” which Phildo follows up with, “no shit”. Thanks jack ass, I hope Bubba picks you to be his Christmas bitch while we are in jail. After a lecture in the freezing we had a conversation that went like this.

Sheriff – “Why don’t you boys go ahead and follow the sun out of town.”

Phildo – “But it is night time”

Me – “Shut the fuck up Phil!”

Phildo – “Well it is!”

Me – “PHIL, SHUT UP!”

Phildo – “But dude, it is dark out, see (pointing to the sky)”

Me – “Get in the fucking car. I will explain it to you later”

Sherrif – “Good idea”

So we walk off towards my car when Phil says, “Hey, I think we just got kicked out of this town!” which was followed by a collective “SHUT UP PHIL!”

I will have to save what happened on Christmas day until a little closer to Christmas.

Don’t get dead

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Looking back – Chapter 14

Earlier at my office we were talking about the change of season and what we enjoy about it. Allergies for some, pretty leaf colors for others and so on. Then I got to thinking about it and for me, it is lower electric bills. So we were talking about how it is nice to have the windows open and so on, which of course sparked a memory from my childhood. For any of you who don’t know, I grew up in a very small town in the south and I feel that may be a contributing factor to my skewed views on things.

So for a little back ground on this memory, as a child/young adult (hell to this date if I am in my home town) I had a friend whose family insisted that I visited them (his parents and both sets of grandparents) during both Thanksgiving and Christmas. So to say we were close is a given. And since we lived in a small town we all saw each other a lot. Back in those days it wasn’t any big deal for people to watch the children of friends, and since my buddy’s grandmother was retired she did just that when we were over.

Also important in this memory is that it was a warm summer day and, as most people in my home town were/are, my buddy’s grandparents where a bit frugal. So when the weather permitted his grandmother would open the back door of her house which leads to a screened in patio with a humongous fan, like a huge warehouse fan. And she would use the fan to blow air through the house to cool it as opposed to using the window unit air conditioners. If you were to walk into her backdoor you would be in a small storage room where she kept dry goods and a deep freezer, from there you would walk into her kitchen, this comes into the story in just a bit.

Now my friend’s grandmother was in her late 60’s early 70’s at this time, her hearing was not the best and she moved a bit slower than she once did but she was a super great woman.

So there my friend and I are in his grandmother’s backyard playing. I am sure at some point we were playing war, I would guess that playing cars occurred at some point and many other things that boys do to entertain themselves. At some point we worked our way over to grandma’s vegetable garden. She had a lovely garden with a ton of tomato plants in her garden. My friend and I thought it would be funny to throw some tomatoes into the fan to watch it chop them up so we gathered as many tomatoes as we could in our shirts and made our way over to the fan, probably about 15 feet or so away. Now we were expecting to see this thing blow tomato chunks everywhere, but that’s not what happened. My buddy chucked the first one into the fan and it disappeared. We thought he had his timing just perfect and must have missed one of the blades so I heaved one into the fan and the same thing. So we devised a plan that we would BOTH throw tomatoes into the fan at the same time because there was no way that we could both time it just right. So tomato after tomato we launched them into this fan and … NOTHING.

About this time my buddy’s mom pulls up to the grandmother’s house and lets herself in. What she saw was her mother slumped over the sink with all of this red stuff all over her back and the back of her head and this red liquid dripping off of her. Thinking that her mother had been shot, his mom let out a blood curdling scream and we hauled ass inside to see what was going on.

What really happened was my buddy’s grandmother went into the storage room to get some stuff to make for lunch and apparently as she was walking out and doing stuff in the kitchen we where just covering her with tomato puree, which is why they tomatoes just disappeared into the fan. And the reason that she was slumped over the sink is because she was peeling potatoes.

I am not 100% sure, but I think that I am still on restriction and I know my ass was sore for a long time.

Don’t get dead

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

F YOU Weatherman!

It’s not that I am upset by the local weather forecast, I am pissed off by the vague speak that they use to cover their asses because they don’t know any more than I do on what the flipping weather is going to be like.

Like what is the difference between isolated showers and scattered showers? They both mean that some places will get rain and some won’t. But what is the difference? Are some places more likely to maybe get rain than others? What a crock of shit that is.

And you know you can take your wind chill and heat index and stick them where it may be partly cloudy. There are three temperatures, it’s fucking hot, damn what a nice day and holy shit is it cold. That’s it.

And speaking of partly cloudy, what is that shit? I hear some days it will be partly cloudy and some days will be partly sunny. What the fuck? So does partly cloudy mean that we are going to have more sun or more clouds? Is partly the most part or the least part?

And if one of you mother fuckers even mentions the word ice and we don’t get ice but I have to be in traffic hell for how ever many hours, I am going to kick you right in the junk during the 10 o’clock newscast. You better not say it even if you are talking about your tea. Comprendre asshole?

Oh and this last winter I heard this gem while getting ready for work one morning. There was going to be patches of freezing fog, freezing fucking fog. You got to be shitting me. Ok, fog is moisture in the air (i.e. water) so if it freezes then there is a block of ice floating in the air? I call BS on that.

I think that weathermen aspire to be politicians. They can both speak at length without saying anything specific.

In conclusion, I am jealous of weathermen. That has got to be the only job where you can rake in a healthy six figures, be a celebrity of sorts, be wrong every day and still keep your damn job.

Don’t get dead

Dear Sweezey – My Girlfriend

Dear Sweezey,

My girlfriend is perfect. She's sweet, intelligent, thoughtful and very attractive. I mean, she is so attractive it has gotten to the point of being absurd. I can't introduce her to anybody without the first comment being "wow, she is really pretty" (told to me only of course). Which is nice, but I know her in a much more intimate way and kind of resent that is what people see first.

Anyway, we have been dating for a while now. I'm in love with her and all but why the fuck can't I stop fantasizing about of other women?

I swear, it is getting ridiculous. I can't get on the blue line without eye fucking a woman. And the women I lust after aren't even half as attractive as my girl. I would never cheat but shit, this is getting really out of hand how often I think about nailing other girls.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Thanks,

Bad Boyfriend

Dear Bad Boyfriend,

You have simply out kicked your coverage so to speak. In other words she is too good for you and you should really dump her and seriously downgrade in the looks department. This way you might be happy. If you start dating an ugly girl and you are still eye fucking chicks on the train, maybe you should start to date guys. Plus you probably aren’t any good in bed so you might want to learn to take it in the butt anyway, jackass.

- Sweezey

Fell free to e-mail me for advice at DearSweezey@gmail.com

Don’t get dead

Dear Sweezey - Settle this argument

Dear Sweezey,

My wife and I keep a very clean home. Inside and out. Our garage is in order and we're both good about immediately returning things back where they belong. She changes the sheets at least every 2-3 nights. Since the first day we moved in together, she's made sure I don't leave clothes on the floor. There's a hamper in our bathroom and one in our closet for dirty clothes. I've always done my part and helped out. Our problem is...she doesn't agree with my pissing in the shower or in the sink. We have a double (his/her) vanity and I piss in the sink we never use. I rinse it out very thoroughly and although I don't do it to keep our water bill down, it is cheaper than flushing an entire toilet bowl of water away. Am I the only one that does this? I know many peolple piss in the shower, but she doesn't like that either. And no, this is not bait. I told her last week I was going to ask others opinions on this here on your site.

Thanks,

Pisser

Dear Pisser,

You are nasty. You may say that you clean this or that but you are nasty. Damn man, have you no shame? What kind of twisted home life are you into? I know that you say that you never use it but man there have got to be germs in and near that sink. I mean it does splatter and where do you keep your toothbrush? I keep mine right by the sink. Do you think there is a chance that a droplet of your wee may have bounced over to and landed right on your toothbrush? Regardless of expense or whatever your reason is, how about just don’t do it because it’s gross you cromag. And it may not be cheaper depending on the type of toilet that you have and how much water you use to “thoroughly” rinse it out. But that is beside the point, how about you take a leak in the toilet because that is what it is made for. By your logic why don’t you just go pee in the washing machine? It has a rinse cycle. Yeah your backwards ass logic doesn’t work when it is used against you does it?

But yeah, the shower is fine, everyone does that. :)

Cormag

- Sweezey

As always feel free to e-mail me at DearSweezey@gmail.com for advice (or to settle where to pee) on anything. All names and e-mail address are kept private, I just address you how you sign your e-mail.

Don’t get dead

Monday, October 20, 2008

Dear Sweezey – Conflicted

Dear Sweezey,

I have a problem. I like to watch incest and alien Hentai porn while having intercourse with a microwaved cucumber that has a 5mm hole drilled in it. My problem is my microwave broke and I don't know if I should go with a cheap model or upgrade. Thanks for the advice.

- Conflicted in Circuit City

Dear Con,

To answer you question, I first have to ask you a question. What the fuck is alien Hentai porn?

And I got bad news for you bro, a five millimeter hole is a really little hole. Sorry to hear of your misfortune.

I personally think that you should go for the upgrade, hell get an industrial strength microwave. And be sure to nuke that cucumber for a really long time, at least 15 minutes, and then just stick your dork right in it as soon as the timer goes off.

Obviously I know that you are not really doing this but the mental image of some jackass scalding their pecker because they like to get off with vegetation humors me.

- Sweezey

As always feel free to e-mail me at DearSweezey@gmail.com for advice on ANYTHING. I won’t use your name or e-mail, only how you sign the e-mail.

Don’t get dead

Dear Sweezey – First Date

Dear Sweezey,

Has it become appropriate all of a sudden to talk about sex and/or past sexual experiences on a first date? The last couple of dates I've been on have for some reason or other turned in this direction. I was always taught that this kind of talk is highly inappropriate and find it disturbing to hear someones sexual history the first time we really talk over dinner or whatever. Am I wrong or just old-fashioned?

- First Dater

Dear First Dater,

Let me guess, you are doing a bit of cyber dating are ya? Maybe if you weren’t surfing in a sea of horndogs and had a personality, looks and a brain, you wouldn’t have to seek out the pervs of the world. You really can’t complain about the HNGs (Horny Net Geeks) wanting to get into your tuffskins if you are going to invade their world. You went into the lion’s den with a big steak so to speak.

And when they were giving you their history, I am assuming that they are trying to impress you with their mack daddy skils. You know, you should be mesmerized by how the women in their past where at their mercy. I mean who isn’t impressed by their dinner date reaching level 110 of World of Warcraft or being an admin of not only their own but three other chat rooms?

You’re not wrong or old-fashioned, you are just oblivious to the world around you. Think about it, what is the #1 thing that the internet is used for? That’s right, porn. So what makes you think that the legions of wackoff warriors are going to take it slow? Hell, they think that every girl on the net is just like the ones in the pics/movies that they download. You know, the milf hunter, bangbus and so on.

All you really have to do is to think. If you wanted to meet a guy who liked books, wouldn’t you hang out in bookstores or libraries? If you wanted to meet a guy who was into health and fitness, wouldn’t you hang out in health clubs and health food stores? So wouldn’t you think that hanging out on dating websites you would attract HNGs?

Maybe you should read some of my other Dear Sweezey postings. It’s not rocket science.

- Sweezey

As always feel free to e-mail me at DearSweezey@gmail.com for advice on ANYTHING. I won’t use your name or e-mail, only how you sign the e-mail.

Don’t get dead

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Finnish the sentence

If you can’t tell I like reader participation blogs. Again, bored and just wondering how the rest of the world thinks. So I am going to post the beginning of a sentence and I want everyone to finish the sentence with your own answer.

So the sentence for today is.

“I know I am drunk when…”

So let’s hear it.

Don’t get dead

Sometimes I get bored …

… and that is dangerous. Because when I get bored I start to think and that’s when the little devil guy on my shoulder takes the business end of a claw hammer to the little angel guy on the other shoulder.

It’s not that I think up mean (well sometimes) or harmful (oh shut-up) things. I just think up things to do for my own entertainment. Fortunately for me, most of my friends and co-workers know that I am an idiot so they accept my “bored” behavior.

So I think starting today I am going to try to get into every conversation that I can, just to say my “phrase of the day”. Every day I am going to pick up a new phrase and just throw it into a conversation, regardless if it applies to what the conversation is about or not.

I may start slowly with something generic like “I heard that”. Just that and then leave. Then I think I will work my way up to something a bit more a-holeish like, “That’s what she said” and later on work my way into something like, “Well yeah, if you want the terrorist to win” or “Yeah, well COMMUNISM works in theory too!” and then just walk away.

I will probably be locked up in the looney bin this time next year but it will be fun, and really isn’t that all that matters? That I am entertained. I thought so as well.

Don’t get dead

New record

This morning Nik Wallenda set a world record for the longest and highest bike ride on a wire. The 250 foot long and 135 foot high balancing act was shown nationally on NBC’s “TODAY” show live from Newark, NJ.

While being interviewed by NBC’s Kerry Sanders right after the record setting display this morning, Nik told a nationwide audience that he is planning on walking across the Grand Canyon next spring.

That is after his next and most amazing stunt, telling his wife that he quit his job to do high wire acts.

Don’t get dead

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Tip for you morons out there

If you are going to get into an exit lane and then without warning to anyone around decide that you are NOT going to exit and change lanes back onto the road, that’s fine. And if you are going to ride someone’s ass simply because they won’t get out of your way even when there is a lane right next to you on the left with no one in it, that’s fine. And if you are going to cut someone off and drive in rush hour traffic like you are in some kind of goddamn NASCAR race, that is fine as well.

Just don’t be surprised when your cell phone blows up with call after call because you drive like this with a big ass for sale sign on your car with your cell phone number boldly printed on it, you dumbass. Nice penmanship idiot.

I know it may be a shock for you to find out that, believe it or not, other people have cell phones too.

And for you mister work truck driver who feels like the road belongs to them with a “How’s my driving?” bumber sticker on your work truck, do you really think it’s your best career move to cut off people, road rage and give them the finger in said company vehicle? Hey Elmer, do you wonder why you can’t move up the company ladder? Maybe it is because you are a complete moron. Yeah, I am putting my money on that.

I think the next time I see some of these idiotic acts that I will post their number on here, with all of their details, you know so that anyone who might be interested in buying the car or bragging to the company how they are driving. Not anything like calling them over and over again telling them what a douche bag they are or reporting their irresponsible behavior to their company, no no no, nothing like that :)

Don’t get dead

A new poll on my page

I have put up a new poll on my page. And I am going to try to put up a new one every week. It may be a question that I am curious as to how everyone feels or it may be some sort of Zobmondo question. But be sure to take my poll and let me know how you feel.

Don’t get dead

Monday, October 13, 2008

Dear Sweezey – Carpooling

Dear Sweezey,

I have a co-worker who lives near me and due to the current economic situation we decided to carpool. Well I hate this guy. He is a nerd and other than work we have nothing in common. But I am in an odd place because we work together. So he knows if I really do need to work late or go in early. How do I get out of this mess that I am in?

Please help,

Traffic Jam


Dear TJ,

I don’t even have to think about this one. All you have to do is to make this guy completely uncomfortable while he is on the road with you. Maybe even look at it as a phased approach.

Phase one – run errands on the way home from work. The holiday season is right around the corner, do a little holiday shopping on the way home. Just add a nice little twist to it, do some “personal” shopping for the wife/girlfriend/boyfriend. Hell yeah, tell him that you got to make a stop at your local sex shop because you are going to pick the wife up some nipple clamps for her stocking stuffer. Nothing says Christmas like a 12 inch dildo. And what would the holiday season be without a fetish DVD? If that doesn’t put an end to carpooling, well what the hell are you complaining about? This dude sounds pretty cool to me if he is down with all that, so it might be you that is the problem. But if that doesn’t do it, move to phase two.

Phase two – Ungodly stereo volume. Not just loud music, but loud bad music. Go get a satanic heavy metal CD or maybe some euro house CD and just crank it. Just pick out what ever is the opposite of what he likes. He likes Country, you blast gangster rap. He likes rock, you rock out to some gospel. Get the picture?

Phase three – Road rage. When it is your turn to drive, you got to get into mad man mode. Erratic lane changes, floor it as soon as the light turns green and complain about every other driver on the road. Maybe even huff and throw up your hands every now and then. Ride the bumper of the car in front of you and continuously mutter, “come on you son of a bitch, speed up”. If you make this guy fear for his life, the price of gas is not going to be a concern at all.

Phase four – If the guy is married and/or has a girlfriend and the other three steps have not worked, you may have to go for broke. Tell him that you two should go in halves on a hooker after work. Pretty sure that would do it.

Hope this helps,

Sweezey

As always feel free to e-mail me for advice at DearSweezey@gmail.com.

Don’t get dead

Thursday, October 09, 2008

My 200th post

Woohoo!! I really got nothing special for this post but I did want to call out that it is my 200th. I don’t know why but I am impressed with myself.

Don’t get dead

Question for readers

When you go to a blog that has been around for a while, do you take the time to read the older post? Or do you just read the current ones?

It doesn’t really mater, I was just wondering.

Don’t get dead

Pay back, part 2

Everyone probably heard my rap about don’t digging liars from my previous post. So I won’t go back over that.

But I had another situation a few years ago where someone was stealing my lunch if I brought a frozen dinner for lunch. I typically eat lunch late in the day.

The first time it happened I thought that maybe I forgot to bring it with me but when I got home and the dinner was not in my freezer I knew something was up.

This happened several times until I had decided that it was enough and that I was going to do something about it.

What did I do? I am glad that you asked. I took a frozen dinner, one of the cheap Mexican food ones, and let it thaw out. Then I took and beat up a few eggs in a bowl and set that bowl on the rail of my apartment balcony for several hours in direct sunlight.

Then came the tricky part, I went to a drug store to by a syringe, you can’t just go buy one. So I had to stretch the truth a bit to get one, but I got one and that’s all I needed. So me and my needle go back to my apartment and I take a syringe full of egg and injected it into the thawed dinner. Then I re-froze it and carried it to work the next day, placed it in the freezer and left it there. Around 2:30 I went to check on it and it was gone. I couldn’t believe it!

So the next day I brought another frozen dinner and put it in the freezer. When I left work that day the frozen dinner was still in there. I couldn’t believe it, it worked!

The next day I found out that someone had gotten really sick, possibly from food poisoning, and that we should be careful and check our lunches to see if anyone had been tampering with them. Yeah, that’s what it was someone tampered with someone else’s lunch, yeah that’s it.

Don’t get dead

Pay back, part 1

I have told this story a couple of times lately and I guess I will tell it here too. I can’t stand liars. I always try to bust them and hang them out to dry. Now if you are telling a tale with the fellas, that’s fine. But if you are either making up shit or outright telling a lie, I got no sympathy for you.

So years ago right after I got out of high school I worked in a peanut mill. While in the mill you could not wear jewelry and pretty much couldn’t have stuff in your pockets. In the break room we didn’t have lockers, we had shelves with lines to denote a persons “space”. The rule of thumb was that you just didn’t mess with anyone else’s stuff, which never should have to be called out. So at the time I smoked, not that I am proud of it but it is the truth. After some period of time I would notice that if my pack of smokes was anywhere between damn near full or damn near empty, it would seem like some where missing every now and then.

While working at this place we had one of the biggest ass-kisses that the world has ever seen. This guy named David. David was a professional fuck-off. He would always go to the bath room a few minutes before break time and someone would always catch him shooting the shit or something, pretty much would do anything to take an extended break. Not a huge deal, but sometimes the crew was small and we needed everyone to contribute. Well when David wasn’t fucking off he would come back from the bathroom and would do his hands in a motion as if he was breaking a stick, the international break gesture, from down the hall. Now typically since David was already so much closer to the break room and smoking area than the rest of us he was usually already smoking when the rest of us got there. But David never had cigarettes of his own.

So one day I asked him if he was taking mine. I told him that if he was I just wanted to know. He swore up and down that he wasn’t and acted offended.

So I let time go by and I switched brands to a brand that a brownish wrapper around the filter. The reason I did this is part of my plan to catch who was taking them. I had a plan that I was about to put into effect. After several days, a week or so, I took a brand new pack of the brown filter cigarettes and removed all of them from the box. I then laid them out and misted all of the filters with Doe in Heat. If you don’t know what that is, it is deer urine extracted from a female deer during mating season. And it stinks like hell. So I took the smokes and put most of them back in the pack and took my happy ass to work.

I set this partial pack of smokes up on the shelf and went about my day like normal. Since this was a peanut mill that is all you could smell. Even my car smelled like peanuts, so you could not smell the urine.

A few minutes before break time David took his daily trip to the bathroom, shortly thereafter David came out of the break room and gave us the break hand gesture. I nudged one of my co-worker buddies and said, “show time”. He asked what I meant and I told him to just come with me outside. When we got there, there is a crowd of people around David and he was on his hands and knees coughing, spitting and his sinuses were draining. Without getting overly excited I asked David if he was ok. To which he replied with, “Damn dude, what is wrong with your cigarettes!?” To which I replied “Oh, my cigarettes, the ones that I asked you about and you swore that you weren’t taking? They are coated with deer piss. Not only did you just put animal piss in your mouth but you likely in jested piss vapors. Why don’t you keep stealing shit homeboy!” Well I could have left bricks of gold sitting in my space and no one would have touched it.

And David quit a couple of weeks later.

Don’t get dead

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Re-writing history

We had a function at work today. Now the company that I work for is so badass that our work function included a reggae band, catered food (including a whole pig like at a luau), open bar and prizes.

The more we celebrated (drank) the more me and some of the fellas got to shooting the shit. One of the subjects that we got to talking about was how people decided what things were foods. We came to the decision that most of them where probably dares.

Oysters are the obvious first choice that had to be a dare. I just don’t see early man seeing this shell on the ocean floor and thinking, “I am going to crack that open and shove what ever is in it in my mouth”. One of my co-workers brought up cows milk. And when you think about it, it sort of makes sense that a human wouldn’t just walk up to an animal and suck on an utter. Had to be a dare right? I think Okra had to be a dare too because when it is uncooked it seems like it has needles sticking out of it. We came up with a whole list of things, artichoke hearts, pistachios, potatoes, honey (come on, out of a bee hive, had to be a dare), coconuts and so on.

So we have decided that we are going to re-write history to suit our wants and desires. Our own bastardized Wikipedia if you will. Our first article is how most foods where first consumed on dares. Next I think we are going to cover either the first time man used animals as transportation or the first person to figure out masturbation.

Don’t get dead

I’m about to get sick

How do I know? Because I am weird. Well as if that wasn’t enough, I know myself and I know that when I can’t get comfortable in bed that sick is on its way. I finally got comfortable this morning, just about an hour before the alarm was set to go off.

Does anyone else have this happen to them? When you can feel sick coming on.

Here is the position that I had to contort myself into so that I could get 5 minutes of sleep.

For starters I had to lay on my right side and only the right side for some reason.

Then my left arm had to be behind my back with my hand right at my waist, but with my hand in one position only. That position is pinky touching my back and my hand going straight out from there in other words like if you made a fist and put in on your hip and then slid it to your spin

Then my right arm had to be out in front of me but under my pillow, in such a way that my pillow was between my head and my right shoulder. So I kind of look like a teapot with a broken handle.

That is just from the waist up!

Speaking of my waist, I didn’t want anything to touch my waist so I had to make some wardrobe adjustments.

Then the best way to describe my lower half was to think of the crosswalk silhouette with a slight bend at the knee, with the left leg in front.

If that wasn’t enough, the covers had to be pulled up to the top of my left leg but not covering me, just lining the top of my left leg.

So I am just waiting for the barf bus to pull into the throat terminal so that I can get some normal sleep.

Don’t get dead

Monday, October 06, 2008

Fans

As someone who formally played football and since we are well into football season I have to address something. Fellas especially, if you never put on a set of pads, laced up some cleats and actually played football, DO NOT say “we” or “us” when referring to a sports team.

I know this may come off as bitter but I really don’t care. No one who ever played ball did it for the fans, they did it because of the love of the game. It is kind of disrespectful to people who actually play or played the game for someone who never stepped foot onto the field to glom onto the efforts of the team.

If you never spent a summer doing two-a-days, shut-up. If you never had to ice down a knee, shoulder, elbow or ankle, shut-up. If you never had muscles so sore that you could hardly move them, shut-up. If you never got so hot and thirsty that you drank your sweat out of your chin strap, shut-up. If you never had your ass chewed by a coach for missing an assignment, shut-up. If you never had a trainer tape an ankle so that you could get back out there for the next set of downs, shut-up. If you never stretched a ligament and prayed that it was not torn, shut-up. If you never froze your ass off waiting to go back on the field, shut-up. If you have never been hit so hard that it knocked the breath out of you, shut-up.

Don’t puff your chest out like you scored the winning goal as time expired if the best you have ever done is gone to a game. I am not saying don’t be a fan, please do. Just don’t say something like, “We really looked good last week” or “That team don’t want none of us” if you haven’t put in the blood, sweat and tears it takes to be part of the team.

I am a fan of medical science but I don’t walk around telling people that “we” had a tough day in the O.R. but in the end “we” pulled it all together, since I do not nor have I ever worked in an operating room. Or that “our” E.R. makes “us” the best hospital in the state.

Be a fan, support the team in the good times and the bad but don’t include yourself as part of the team. And this goes for all sports, not just football.

Don’t get dead

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Putting the band back together

Well, actually putting a band together for the first time.

Well, not really. But I have the best name for a band. And you see it everywhere so there is some instant publicity. The band name is “We’re Closed”. Yeah, how much would that rock? I can just see marquees all over the country with things like “TONIGHT ONLY – WE’RE CLOSED”, or “FOR THE FIRST TIME IN BUFFALO – WE’RE CLOSED”, or maybe “COMING SOON – WE’RE CLOSED”. What do you think? Is this a great idea or what?

And you know how bands have shortened names, like Van Halen is just called “VH” sometimes and Powerman 5000 is “PM5K” or Motley Crue is just called “Crue”. We could shorten the band name to just “Closed”. The band name would be everywhere. Small towns all over the country would have the band name on practically every retail establishment.

It would also be funny to see the confused looks on people’s faces when they see all of the cars in the parking lot but a sign saying “ONE NIGHT ONLY – WE’RE CLOSED”.

Oh and then, when the band gets to be a mega band and we can’t go out in public without getting mobbed and some club does close, there will be a huge demand from the fans to see the band. And thus the club would have to open back up due to sheer demand of the band. And during the holiday season “CLOSED FOR THANKSGIVING”!

Hell, I may have solved the economic crisis.

I got to quit drinking while at work.

Don’t get dead

The Dog

The big bad dog.

Does anyone else want to bitch slap that half of a can of Aqua Net out of his hair? Or is it just me? I don’t know when this show comes on but when I do happen to see it I can not turn this train wreck of a program. It’s like the mystical powers of that pompadour that Elvis would be envious of with along with the mullet almighty combination hypnotize me.

Sometimes when I watch that show I wish that I was in Hawaii and that I had jumped bail or what ever it is that you have to do to get the Dog to hunt you. I know that I could get away from him. All I would have to do is to find some stairs. There is no way that he could do stairs in those platform heel boots and I would get away.

But if I ever did get cornered by him and his merry band of trailer park trash, I would like show him the business end of one of those turkey guns that Uncle Fester always had on “The Adams Family”.

There is just something about that show that sucks me in. And I really have nothing against the guy personally, well maybe pushing tacky to the extreme. But I just want to pecker slap that whole crew, and I don’t know why.

So help me, those of you who have seen the Hindenburg of reality TV tell me, what is it about this show that keeps me from being able to change the channel?

Don’t get dead

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

This may be my last post ever

You see I have family coming into town from out of state, but it’s not what you think. I love them and I can’t wait to see them. The only thing that sucks about them getting here is that means that it is that much closer to when they leave.

Let me explain it to you, I come from a small family and both of my parents will only children so when I met my wife’s HUFUCKINGMONGUS family I was just a wee bit intimidated. Of course it wasn’t just meeting them, it was during Thanksgiving and it was like the fucking Stones where playing a concert at her parents’ house. There where people everyone. So there I am getting introduced to person after person, family members, extended family members, boyfriends, girlfriends and family friends. So not only am I wanting to blend into the wallpaper, now I got to remember the greater Dallas whitepages in fear of some sort of pre-feast test. And if that wasn’t enough I then subjected myself to more punishment. I asked what they all did. So there is Uncle So-and-So and he works for the DEA. Great, that’s all I need is to sweat a background check (oh god, I just had a Meet The Parents flashback). And then there is Aunt So-and-So, she is a teacher for special needs children. Damn-it, now I can’t say retard, which is a word that I over use, much less tell stories about my friend who I commonly refer to as retards. And then there is the DEA uncle’s brother who works for a pharmaceuticals sales company. Wait a minute, one brother sales drugs (legally) and the other one bust people who use drugs? Oh that’s funny. So this went on and on and over time I got to know them.

But they are unbelievably fun. Your face hurts from laughing fun. So yeah, I am kind of pumped about this weekend. Because I realizes how much they all lover each other and love spending time with each other. And some how I hit the family lottery and am now apart of this wicked fun group.

Every time we are together we reminisce about past events and end up always have new events to reminisce about for the next time we see each other. I will have to blog about the canoe trip at some point.

So why may this be my last post? Because I might just hitch a wagon to theirs and go with them. Hey change is good for the soul right?

Oh man, this is mushy. Ok, this may be the next to my last post, I got to get back to the sarcasm.

Don’t get dead
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