Friday, February 27, 2009

Dear Sweezey - No Loving

Dear Sweezey,

My wife of 20 years tells me she no longer has any interest in sex, but that she will "do it" occasionally to meet my needs.

Before that, sex has gone from several times a week to about once a month... not my choice, but daily headaches, backaches, just b4 bed arguments, etc., are becoming the norm

What am I to do with this new information???

- Lost Love

Dear Lost Love,

You said it all when you said you’re married. Deal with it bro.

And you are a grown man, stop this b4 bullshit. Spell it out. Come on, you can do it!

- Sweezey

Don't get dead

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Looking Back - Chapter 16

Before I get into this blog, I want everyone to understand that I have a VERY big soft spot in my heart for the handicapped, senior citizens, children and animals. I am by no way making fun of any of them, just telling a story that happened to me and making fun of myself.

As I may or may not have mentioned in the past, I have had a variety of jobs when I was younger. Dish washer, utility worker, lawn maintenance, peanut mill production line worker, banker, candle stick maker, Indian chief and so on.

One of those jobs that I had was a fill-in driver for a food service company, meals on wheels if you will. Most of our clients were senior citizen centers. Places where the able bodied senior members of society would gather Monday thru Friday. Usually they would play bingo and stuff like that. But in an effort to keep our business profitable we also took clients for day care centers & mental health facilities.

One this particular day I was working with a co-worker named Hector. Hector was teaching me the route, who gets what, how to load the truck in the order of the stops and so on. I liked Hector, he was cool, he had a great personality, liked jazz and loved women. We got a long well.

During the route Hector told me that we had a new client and that he was going to show me how to do an initial set up. When we get there I can see that it’s not a senior citizen center and I could see kids walking around, so I thought it was a day care. I was wrong.

Hector parks the truck and tells me to start unloading the stuff and that he was going to go in and find out where everything went and he would come back and get me. So I get everything off the truck and loaded onto a dolly. One thing that I didn’t mention is that it was August, which meant that it was as hot and muggy as Satan’s balls. After a couple of minutes I thought to myself, “screw this” and wheeled the stuff inside. Now I am standing in the very nice and cool air conditioned foyer of this school when I see this kid sitting on the floor and he starts to row a boat across the floor, but he isn’t in a boat. He is doing motions like he is rowing a boat and just scooting on his ass backwards across the floor. Ooookkkkaaay. As I am watching him row, I see another kid sitting on the floor leaning against wall. This young man is wearing a football helmet and has oven mitts duct taped to his wrist. I thought to myself, “Cool, they are at recess or playing a game”. I was wrong again. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! HOLY SHIT!!! He just starts slamming his head against the wall, HARD! And then tries to unfasten the chin strap, which must have been the reason for the oven mitts.

It’s at this point that I am praying that these kids don’t gang up on me because I would have come through the wall like the Kool-Aid man! I hear that they can smell fear.

So I let out a loud yet subtle, “HHEECCTTOORR!!” A couple of seconds later he comes around the corner and says that he will show me where to set everything up at. Thank god, I thought I was a goner.

We make our way to the room where we are supposed to set up everything and he gives me the run down. After we get everything set up Hector asked one of the teachers if there was anywhere that he could get a drink and she tells us where a water fountain is and mentions that there is a soda machine in the teachers lounge too. Hector opted for the soda and we make our way to the teachers lounge.

When we got to the teachers lounge there was a little girl standing by the soda machine with her hands clasp in front of her with her head down and looking very morose. We thought maybe she had gotten in trouble or something so we were going to be extra nice to her to try to cheer her up. We both said hello to her and asked how she was doing and she didn’t move a muscle. In an effort to not be annoying to the girl we just decided to get a soda and go about our business. Hector walks over to the machine and puts his money in, makes a selection and BAM, this little girl lunges and grabs the soda and then pfffffttt just slobbers all over the top of it. Without missing a beat, Hector says to her, “Yeah, you’re right, that one is yours” and then goes into his pocket to get more change. He again puts his money in the machine and the little girl, BAM/pffffffttt all over this one too. Hector is visibly taken back a little bit and turns to me and says, “Hey man, you think you can run interference for me? I am running out of money!” So there I am standing there like I am trying to block a four foot Kobe Bryant so that Hector can get a drink.

A dollar fifty later and he drops the damn thing walking out of the room!

Don’t get dead

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Dear Sweezey - Need help with a guy

Dear Sweezey,

I have been sort of seeing this guy who for a while, but nothing to serious yet. He is great and seems to have his head on his shoulders. I am always going to him for advice and asking all sorts of questions and he never gets flustered with me. But one thing that is odd to me is every time I tell him that he is nice for helping me or say that he is sweet, he always replies to me with “Nah, I am an asshole :)” or something like that. Why won’t he let me compliment him? I know he is nice and has a heart of gold, but he never takes compliments. Is this a bad sign?

Wondering Woman

Dear Wondering Woman (oh god),

How dense are you? I mean seriously. While he may be saying it with a nice face on, he is telling you the truth, he’s an asshole. He is giving you warning that one day he is going to lower the boom on your ass like Hiroshima! And it wont be pretty. Yeah, one day he is going to have enough of your stupid ass questions and going to tell you what an idiot you are and all kinds of other things that you aren’t going to want to hear. Ever hear someone say that the writing is on the wall? Well when he is telling you that he is an asshole, he just pulled out a sharpie and is using his best penmanship.

So leave the guy alone. Don’t you think he has better things to do than to solve all of your issues for you? That is unless you are giving him some, then you just bought yourself a little more time. But he will get tired of that too, unless you know how to work it. Then he will just talk about you to his friends until you break crazy on him.


As always you can e-mail me for advice on anything at

Don’t get dead

Monday, February 23, 2009

Things that I wonder about.

• Did the guy whose job it was to name fruit just not try when he got to the orange?
• Why is Christopher Columbus celebrated as the man who discovered America when all he did was get lost?
• Does this bump look infected?
• How come people will burn up $10 in gas driving across the city to save fifty cents?
• Why don’t beaches wash away?
• Do all fish know how to swim?
• Shouldn’t firemen really be called watermen?
• Who let the dogs out?
• How come every time I loose socks it’s only one out of the pair? Why don’t I ever loose both socks from the same pair?
• If breakfast is the most important meal of the day, why is it so early? You would think that if it was so important that it would be at a time when everyone is up.
• Who decides what’s a weed and what’s a flower? Is it that if it’s hard to kill it’s a weed and if it’s hard to keep alive it’s a flower?
• Who decides what is dancing and what is repetitive spastic motion?
• Why is it that we load ourselves up with distractions such as cell phones and TVs in places that we need to pay the most attention, like in the car. But we want piece and quiet in places where you can afford to have distractions like at home?
• Why is there handicapped parking at dance clubs?
• What do fortune tells ask you what you want to know about? Shouldn’t they already know?
• If magicians can really do “magic” why don’t they let me pick the tricks they are to do?
• The rock band “Candlebox” has a greatest hits CD, why? And is it a single?

Don’t get dead

Thursday, February 19, 2009


I know that times are tough, I won’t argue that point one bit. And I know that everyone has to make a living. But stop trying to do it at my expense!

Look, I know that you are trying to feed your five hungry kids and the twins need special shoes so that they can walk to school, up hill both ways none the less. But trust me when I tell you that I got nothing that will help you and that you would do better trying to get someone else to buy what ever it is you are selling. Because all I am going to do is waste your time.

Like for instance, one time I was home and the phone rings, like a moron I answered it. I know, what was I thinking?! To my EXTREME joy it was a telemarketer. Now typically I would just hang up. But this time, was different. This time was special! I felt like screwing with someone. It must have been fate!

So I answer in the typical fashion of, “What?” (I got tired of using, “Commissioner Gordon here”) and the voice on the other end calls my name in this really cheery voice like he is glad to talk to me again. Knowing right away that this is no one who knows me, I let him continue with his little speech. He goes on and on about meeting new and exciting people and blah, blah, blah… I am sure he was saying something really meaningful but I was too busy scratching with the phone receiver. Anyway, he reveals that this is for the most popular dating service in the metroplex (didn’t see that coming with all of the talk of meeting new and exciting singles) and then he asks me, “So what do you think?” Well hell, I had to find out if I could do this! I mean who would want to pass up an opportunity like that! So I asked him to hang on a minute while I asked my wife if I could join. I hear him call me an asshole and hang up. Sorry dude, you’re the dumbass who called me and never asked if I was married. Good luck with your sales.

But my favorite of all time has to be this one time (at band camp, sorry I had to) a telemarketer called me trying to sell me the news paper. Over and over again I kept telling him that I wasn’t interested. And I was trying to be nice about it because the guy sounded desperate. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He just kept on and on. So finally I told him that I had to tell him something and that I was a war vet and that I lost both of my arms in the war and that’s why I didn’t want a subscription to the paper.

Anyone want to guess what he says then? Glad you asked, he says “Well what about the weekend edition?” No shit, he really said that after I told him that I don’t have arms.

But I was proud of myself, instead of telling him what a tool he was I simply left it at “Yeah, my arms grow back on the weekends, sign me up!”. I don’t know why but he hung up on me.

Don’t get dead

Friday, February 13, 2009

Guys rules for going to a club

Guys, this one is for you. With “Singles Awareness Day” or as some call it “Valentines Day” being tomorrow I thought that I would share with you some rules to help you find that lovely lady.

First off, women don’t want to be with some push over smuck. So be confident. Nice is for pussies, be a man. Jesus son, grow a pair! So if you ask a chick to dance and she brushes you off, tell her that you didn’t ask her for head just to dance and that she shouldn’t be such a cunt and to lighten up. They love that, drives them crazy.

Another thing that would help you is if you are so inclined to actually “dance” (god help you) remember these few rules for being a man while dancing (shiver).
• NEVER let your arms get above your shoulders. What are you some kind of queen? You’re not bringing sexy back if you look like it’s raining men, get it?
• Don’t ever ever ever ever ever sing along with the song. I don’t care how great of a song it is, never sing along with it.
• For the love of everything holy, don’t do the running man, the lawnmower, the sprinkler or the shaking dice thing. You only make yourself look like a bigger goober.
• Remember that dames think of dancing like vertical sex, so turn her around, bend her over at the waist and pound away!
• Never dance to more than one song at a time. Trust me, if you are a guy, you don’t dance well. Don’t make a huge ass out of yourself. And if you do actually have decent moves, leave them wanting more.
• No fucking techno, EVER!

Let’s move along to drinking. Beer is fine but is gives off a certain financial limit vibe. Drink mixed drinks. And not some fruity crap either. No drinks with umbrellas or fruit in them. What are you, Fabio? And for the sake of men everywhere, no bright colored drinks! Ever! Drinks should be dark in color. Come on you pansy, man up! And another thing, don’t drink out of a fucking staw, you are not in kindergarten. You got fuzz on your peaches right? Show it!

Make sure that you don’t dress like a dildo too. You’re going to a club to try to get laid, not an interview. No starch in anything you are wearing. And more than two buttons (starting at the very top of your shirt) unbuttoned is completely unacceptable. Come on dude, not t-shirts or anything with a hole in it. And don’t wear sneakers or tennis shoes, if you don’t have normal shoes you are not ready for a woman anyway. Wear a belt but don’t clip ANYTHING to it. And make sure that the belt and the shoes match. And no loud colors! Ever! If you are so inclined as to wear cologne pay very important attention to this part, JUST A FUCKING LITTLE BIT OF IT. Don’t bath in the shit. Let me give you some help here, go to the mall and look at the price tags of the colognes in the case. Find one that is more than you would pay for a bottle of cologne and find that tester bottle. Two sprays of it, no more. And if your hair looks like you just got out of a wind tunnel, well you are on your own, I can’t help you. Oh and no sunglasses. The more accessories that you have, the more you look … well just sad. Drawing attention to yourself = got nothing going for yourself.

Talking to chicks is crucial. Keep saying this handy little phrase to yourself “shut the fuck up”. And remember it. If you are talking, you are fucking up. Well if you are talking too much. Talking to women is sort of a moving target. Too little talking and you look like the guy who jerks off to Disney movies. Too much talking and you look like the guy who lives with his mom. Work on it, but never ever practice in a mirror. Two sentences at the most and no more than say eight words in a sentence. You want to look smooth, not spastic.

Just trying to help.

Don’t get dead

Monday, February 09, 2009

Nothing says love like …

… a pre-ban assault rifle!

That’s right, nothing screams loving like Glock.

What am I talking about? On the way to work this morning I see a sign for a gun and knife show on Valentines Day over in Fort Worth. I know that EVERY girl that I ever spent Valentines Day with wanted nothing more than to go to a gun show.

So if you are looking for that special gift idea for your loved one on Valentines why not a banana clip for her AK-47? Or maybe a .50 cal?

The thing that I really wonder the most about was, did the person who scheduled this really think this through? Here you have Bubba with access to weapons galore when he has just had his heart broken by Linda Lou all on the day that the words “If I can’t have her nobody can!” get said more than any other time of year. Smooth move ex-lax! Maybe they just need more training or something.

Don’t get dead

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

So is that a couple of pigeons in your pants or are you just happy to see me?

So there is a news story where some jackass from Sydney had a couple of pigeons in his pants on a flight (;_ylt=AhNsIhf.qbtjnicNFwyJEcvtiBIF) which was found after some eggs where discovered in a vitamin container in his luggage. So that makes me wonder, what in the hell is this moron doing with pidgins in his pants? Ever see a pigeon? They are winged sewer rats. I saw one eat some barf that a homeless dude left on the sidewalk one day. So what was he doing with them? Actually I guess I should ask why? They are not endangered or worth anything. Damn sure not worth the $70,430 fine that he has now.

But why pigeons? You don’t think he was going to do some creepy sexual thing with them do ya? Do you think he had to turn his phone service off and still felt the need to communicate with others and was going to bring back the carrier pigeon craze?

I think the most ironic part is that he had them on a plane. Like they where never going to experience flight on their own.

Don’t get dead
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