"Americans used to say where there's a will, there's a way. Nowadays, it's where there's a pill, there's a way out." - - Burnt Toast
Showing posts with label fucking A. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fucking A. Show all posts

Square Pegs, Round Holes. . .

A metaphor or two. . .

My work is like the song that says, "...wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round..." except the bus I am on has square wheels made of granite fingernails and the road is made of blackboard. My body is constructed of delicately laminated crystal cementations which are slowly being de-aggregated on the atomic level from each fall of the wheel's edge as some smelly lard-ass standing in the aisle of this crowded third world bus rests their lard-haunch on my shoulder as I sing Tom Sawyer at the top of my lungs in an effort to squelch the overwhelming input of noise, vibration and personal violation. "No his mind is not for rent, to any God or government..."

My work is like sharing a ten-course tasting menu dinner with Matthew Modine and tempering uneasy feelings of indecisiveness because I don't know whether he's a brilliant actor or a hack, but then I remember Vision Quest and either way, brilliant or not, I still want to punch him in the face. The squid ravioli is divine though. . .

My work is like waking up after a long night out and finding myself in a bed in a strange place. I look about and see various womans undergarments strewn around the room; a pair of six inch heels next to a black, spangled purse and a tiny magenta and iridescent blue bodice mini-dress hanging on the bedroom doorknob. I roll over to find a warm body next to me. I turn on the bedside lamp only to be confronted by a lumpy and hairy man-back, riddled with pockmarks, moles and fresh lesions indicative of a lustful night. Lunging from the bed in panic, I catch a glimpse of myself hurtling by a wall-length mirror and shriek in agony as I realize that I am a Thai transsexual hooker who turns tricks on the corner in Sunset and Vine in Los Angeles. All I need is $2500 more for the surgery. . .

This is me........going to work......

Thanks to all of you for stopping by during my extended absence. I'll be posting over the weekend hopefully and with the results of the BBQ contest this past Saturday also, photos included.

See you soon!!

Oh yeah, Greasy? Hope you guys are ok after the rattles this week. Let me know how you are!

Read more...

An Open Letter To The World. . .



Dear World,

In light of recent anti-American events such as our election, trying to whack our president in the face with a shoe and the exclusion of the United States of America from a Latin American Summit, which will host Russia, Iran, and China, all friends of the world I assure you, let me just say one thing to you, the unwashed masses of Planet Earth:

FUCK YOU!

The United States of America has spent the last 200 years bailing out countless numbers of countries just like you. Iraq, Korea, Afghanistan, Panama, Somalia, France, Germany, Poland, Italy, Algeria, Egypt, Turkey, Samoa. You name it and we've probably been there to set things straight, to straighten you out, to fix your problems whether you like it or not.

Oh yes, we imperialists, we occupiers, we crusaders, how dare we police the world, what business is it of ours?

To the slovenly of the world I declare that it becomes our business when your business infringes on ours!

You see, unlike the savage beasts of the Middle East or despotic rulers Africa or unruly religious zealots of Pakistan and other places with a disdain for life and freedom, we've learned to live together and prosper. We've managed to leave behind the savagery and butchering of the Dark Ages for a comfortable, pleasant and free lifestyle that foments creativity, efficiency and the love of life and living. We've invented and built most of the modern technologies that make our world a better place and shared them with everyone. We've even flown men to the moon and landed robots on other planets. Anyone from the lawless tribal region of Pakistan ever do that?

We don't saw heads off people, indoctrinate women into strapping bombs to themselves, starve our people intentionally, nor do we crush public outcry or dissent(unless it becomes violent), and we don't randomly rape and torture, in fact, we are the most caring and generous country in the world.

In 2005, we donated the equivalent of almost 1.7% of our total economy to the world. Yes, it makes for a lot of zeros. And while I am it, Mississippians in particular are VERY generous. In 2005, we were the most giving state in the nation. The least? New Hampshire. Go figure, but that's an argument for another day. Even last year, I donated more money than Joe Biden, our dunderheaded, soon-to-be vice-president.

We're not war-mongers, unless we have to be and yes, unfortunately for us and the bad guys of the world, we are the world police. Constantly spat upon, castigated by our own media, lambasted by every fringe minority group, but really, who would you rather have policing the world? Russia? Iran? The Hutus and Tutsis from the Congo?

Yes, our bombs kill. Our guns maim. And our men fight to the death. But it is without malice. It is with pride for our way of life, it is with the sense of duty that an all-volunteer force goes to battle when called. We are not blood-thirsty killers and frankly, most of those kids fighting for freedom would rather be at home playing Ninetendo and/or chasing girls. We go because we have to, and we can be relied upon by the jellybacked, nimrodic countries who lack the wherewithal or desire to quell persecution when necessary. In other words, those that lack the balls to fight.

We've learned to live peaceably, to respect one another for our differences, to allow for opinion or dissension. We've nearly perfected it. I say nearly, because we are not perfect. There are defects in every society, but we've modeled a society far more advanced than anything imaginable. Admired and envied by most.

We don't go looking for a fight and much prefer to mind our own business. It people like you, the savage underbelly, the undomesticated purity of the violent animal brain who send us calling. And we call hard. With bombs and death, with tears in our eyes as our war machine grinds you to bits and spits you out.

It could be much easier for you if you would simply stop. Stop it. Stop with the raping, the pillaging, the subjugation of the weak, the persecution of the different. Allow yourselves to be free because freewill is the only God-given right that humankind has. And only man can take it away.

Personally, I'll be glad when the United States is second place in the world. We can button up our borders, park our warships off the coast and thumb our nose at everyone else when the planet goes to hell in a handbasket.

It will be our quiet day to shine. Shining and reveling through our own inaction.

And you?

Well, you'll just be getting what you deserve. And when you come sniveling to us for help, we won't look down our nose at you with contempt or scorn. We, the compassionate people of the United States of America, will pull up our bootstraps, muster our forces, and once again march into the fire with the hopes of setting the world straight one more time. It is our moral obligation. Which is something the rest of the world lacks.

God Bless America and her mighty military.

Sincerely,
Burnt Toast

P.S. Yes nimrods, I know nimrodic is not a word. Thank you for your grammatical concern.

Read more...

Pop Quiz. . .


Someone in this photograph has the illicit narcotics. Which person is it?

Read more...

Iowahawk. . .

The vapor that is Iowahawk continues to bring the funny.

Read more...

Casual Words Of Importance. . .

This early morning I was monitoring a concrete placement at what will be another unit of a local Mexican restaurant when I asked the driver of a concrete truck if he wanted some of my sunflower seeds.

His response:

"Naw, if I ate some of them now, it'd just make me want a beer and then there's no tellin' where I'd end up."

Amen to that brother.

Read more...

It's 2:00 a.m. . . .

Do you know where your concrete is?

It's 4:30 a.m. and this Monday has already started off poorly. I got up at 2:00 to drive over to Vicksburg for a 4:00 concrete placement and guess what? I was the only S.O.B. on the jobsite! I guess sometime between the Saturday morning placement and today, the work was cancelled.

Appreciate the heads up you a-holes.

This is what I feel like after less than 4 hours of sleep:

Read more...

Reason Number Four Million. . .

two-hundred seventy-eight thousand and six: beer.

Tomorrow I am off to Memphis for the Memphis in May festival of BBQ, beer, music and hijinks. The Sassy Sows will be competing again this year and let's hope they are able to pull it off this time around. Last year, they were within a frog's hair of winning the rib competition. So close. . .but second place does not a champion make. I've got faith in my gals though. They have moxie. And having moxie sounds cool and I like it.

This year, they are energized, prepared, ready to dominate and I'll be there to document the whole performance. That is, of course, barring any unforeseen circumstances, like jail, puking in the BBQ sauce, falling into the river, breaking a leg, punching the Memphis in May Queen in the boob or anything of the like. I suspect that it'll be a grand ol' time for everyone involved.

I don't know how much I'll be able to blog until I return on Sunday, so in the meantime, pay a visit to some blogs I like to read:

The Jawa Report
View From The Porch
The World of Greasywrench
Ace of SpadesHQ
Cute With Chris
JammieWearingFool
SondraK
IMAO
The Daily KOS Go ahead, click it, you know you want to.

Breaker 1-9 Road Hawg, you copy?

Read more...

Today's Word Is. . .

Work.

Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.
Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.
Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.

Work.Work.Work.
Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.
Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.
Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.Work.

Got it?

Read more...

John Smoltz. . .


One of my personal heroes just struck out a Mets guy on four pitches. The first strike being a 95 m.p.h. fastball.

This is John's first start of the year and I'm excited. This was a man who's pitching was so horrible in his first years with the Braves that he sought the help of a psychologist who would come to his games dressed in a red shirt and would sit behind home plate so Smoltzie could see him. Now he's 40 years old, a Cy Young under his belt, had a 24 win season in 1996, led the majors in strikeouts two years, the only pitcher to amass 200 wins and 50 saves and is still throwing gas and a mind-bending slider. And on top of all that, he's still just a down-to-Earth guy. Respected and liked among enemy and peer. And I respect that above all.

Today John is dressed out in the Braves home Sunday colors of red. Tastefully ironic.

Keep it up John. You are an inspiration.

Read more...

Picture

Picture
Herbs!

About This Blog

StatCounter

  © Blogger template Shush by Ourblogtemplates.com 2009

Back to TOP