Ugh.
I was getting a coffee this morning and overheard this gem when I was leaving the restaurant and passing a large table with about six people sitting around it:
"Michelle Bachmann is by far the most intelligent candidate in terms of her knowledge on political issues and international policy."
Uh.
Ummm.
AHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHAAAA!
HAHAHA!
HA!
oooh.
Oh, that was a good one.
Seriously, there are people who live in this G-d-forsaken backwater cesspool (as I lovingly call my town ;) that believe this. Really. No, really. No, I wish I was kidding!
Even after they've seen her on TV (All hail the hypnotoad!), and heard her debate (FYI: Gays are from hell, Vaccines give you diseases!), and saw her husband flounce towards the camera (Route I-85 Exit 13A glory hole award winner!), and heard about her husband's business (It's SO not pray-away-the-gay! Seriously! Stop it! No, you stop it! That tickles! Shut UP! Take off your shirt!).
Now THAT'S what I call denial.
Or, to translate it into Gay: "They're so far up in their own closets, all their clothes smell like Altoids."
© 2011 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
11.07.2011
Genesis Redux
I did take cold pills. Really.
I guess that's my only excuse for this dream, which I'm going to tell you about. I actually don't remember any visuals, no sounds, no smells, nothing. The only thing I can recall, with searing clarity, is the sentence that was rolling around in my head when I came to consciousness.
It seemed really important, like a message from a higher being trying to impart an important aspect of reality to a lesser being (me) trapped on the mortal plain. When I woke, I felt this burning need to quickly write it down in my dream journal (which I totally don't have) so that I would never forget it.
And what was this message? This dire communication that was so important it needed to transcend the land of the unconscious and blast its way into the land of the living?
Percy, The Lord's Mold.
Yeah, I wish I was kidding.
That's what was "so pressing" for my brain that it needed to wake me up from a dead sleep earlier this week.
My friends were trying to parse it (were you talking to Percy? Are you introducing the Mold? To whom? Are you commanding someone to go and get the Mold?) but I knew immediately the meaning behind the message:
Percy was the name of the Mold, the Mold was actual mold (like you find on a tree outside, or in an unclean shower), and it was the Lord's (yes, that Lord) favorite.
You'd think this would've been covered in Genesis, but I understand that there were size constraints and page limits. Maybe God was busy, and is just now going back to "fill-in-the-blanks-of-Genesis" with a long list of his favorite flora, fauna, fish, etc.
Scary. But totally plausible.
I hope when he gets to mammals we make the cut.
I'll keep you posted.
© 2011 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
I guess that's my only excuse for this dream, which I'm going to tell you about. I actually don't remember any visuals, no sounds, no smells, nothing. The only thing I can recall, with searing clarity, is the sentence that was rolling around in my head when I came to consciousness.
It seemed really important, like a message from a higher being trying to impart an important aspect of reality to a lesser being (me) trapped on the mortal plain. When I woke, I felt this burning need to quickly write it down in my dream journal (which I totally don't have) so that I would never forget it.
And what was this message? This dire communication that was so important it needed to transcend the land of the unconscious and blast its way into the land of the living?
Percy, The Lord's Mold.
Yeah, I wish I was kidding.
That's what was "so pressing" for my brain that it needed to wake me up from a dead sleep earlier this week.
My friends were trying to parse it (were you talking to Percy? Are you introducing the Mold? To whom? Are you commanding someone to go and get the Mold?) but I knew immediately the meaning behind the message:
Percy was the name of the Mold, the Mold was actual mold (like you find on a tree outside, or in an unclean shower), and it was the Lord's (yes, that Lord) favorite.
You'd think this would've been covered in Genesis, but I understand that there were size constraints and page limits. Maybe God was busy, and is just now going back to "fill-in-the-blanks-of-Genesis" with a long list of his favorite flora, fauna, fish, etc.
Scary. But totally plausible.
I hope when he gets to mammals we make the cut.
I'll keep you posted.
© 2011 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
What the Holy F@*k?
Hi. Yet again, it's been a literal Ice Age since I last posted.
What's up, you ask? Well...I've been busy trying to get my first book sold (no luck), broke up with my Agent/Agency (sad), went to a writer's conference to try and sell it (some nibbles that I'm praying work out), started and stalled on my second book, looked for a new day job, thought about moving out of state, thought about buying my first home, found a place but can't get financing in place (yet), got an unexpected raise at work, left my old therapist because he went into another line of work (sad), started having panic attacks again, found a new guy but took forever to get used to him (he's great, though), found out my physical problems could be worse than I thought (bad), discovered some new therapies that might cut down on the pain (good), and STILL haven't had a vacation in about six years.
Oh, I also bought a tablet and did some new art, which was nice.
So, some good, some bad, same as everyone else. Not much that was funny, though.
Until Prince of Pinkness (Great name! You rock!) replied yesterday to one of my posts and told me that, if you type "Gay Humor Blog" into Google my site comes up first.
As in number one.
What?
How the hell did THAT happen!?
I don't advertise this site. I barely post. The traffic for this website is usually so small it doesn't even register in actual numbers. How does Google compute this shit?
Not that I'm complaining, mind you. All three of you new readers, WELCOME!
Although, today one of my friends started calling me, "Gaymous" on account of my new Internet faux celebrity, which I initially didn't like. But who knows, maybe the addition of tens of tens of fans will go straight to my head and I'll learn to really love it!
Stranger things have happened.
And if you don't believe me, I give you my other posts as Exhibit A...
© 2011 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
What's up, you ask? Well...I've been busy trying to get my first book sold (no luck), broke up with my Agent/Agency (sad), went to a writer's conference to try and sell it (some nibbles that I'm praying work out), started and stalled on my second book, looked for a new day job, thought about moving out of state, thought about buying my first home, found a place but can't get financing in place (yet), got an unexpected raise at work, left my old therapist because he went into another line of work (sad), started having panic attacks again, found a new guy but took forever to get used to him (he's great, though), found out my physical problems could be worse than I thought (bad), discovered some new therapies that might cut down on the pain (good), and STILL haven't had a vacation in about six years.
Oh, I also bought a tablet and did some new art, which was nice.
So, some good, some bad, same as everyone else. Not much that was funny, though.
Until Prince of Pinkness (Great name! You rock!) replied yesterday to one of my posts and told me that, if you type "Gay Humor Blog" into Google my site comes up first.
As in number one.
What?
How the hell did THAT happen!?
I don't advertise this site. I barely post. The traffic for this website is usually so small it doesn't even register in actual numbers. How does Google compute this shit?
Not that I'm complaining, mind you. All three of you new readers, WELCOME!
Although, today one of my friends started calling me, "Gaymous" on account of my new Internet faux celebrity, which I initially didn't like. But who knows, maybe the addition of tens of tens of fans will go straight to my head and I'll learn to really love it!
Stranger things have happened.
And if you don't believe me, I give you my other posts as Exhibit A...
© 2011 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
1.24.2011
New Underwear (and other junk)...
Hey all,
I know it's been forever since I've posted. Life got in the way, from trying to sell my first book (nothing so far), to writing my second (coming along slowly), personal problems, nothing remotely funny happening in my life to write about, etc., etc., etc.
But enough about that depressing crap. I want to talk about underwear! They're fun to wear!
I was shopping for some new ones lately (cause you know I've got to look good for all the guys lining up to have sex with me...yeah) and was trying to find a site that had the style I wanted on sale, cause this bitch don't buy stuff at full price, okaaaay?
*Cough*RuPaulmoment*Cough*
Anyway, I came across this site called Skiviez (yes, that's the way it's spelled... sigh...) and lo and behold they had the ones I wanted on clearance! Yay! I originally wanted them in black or charcoal - unfortunately, all they had left were these blue stripes. :-( But who cares what I wanted - they were on sale so stripes it was! Hooray!
It was then that I finally noticed the pictures for this underwear. Usually that's the first thing I notice (a parade o' manmeat!) but I was buying boxers, so how revealing could they be?
And I was right. Revealing? No. But something WAS different about these pictures - let's see if you can figure out what it is:
Picture 1: Everything Looks Normal
Picture 2: So Far So Good...
Picture 3: Ahhh, yess! Grab That Junk! GRAB IT!
Ha! That's a first! And yes, these are REAL pictures from their website. I don't know if someone at the company snuck those in under the radar or an editor quit or what, but it made my day.
Of course, I ordered them. I mean, they were on sale AND I know they can stand up to rigorous grabbage?
What's not to love?
© 2011 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
I know it's been forever since I've posted. Life got in the way, from trying to sell my first book (nothing so far), to writing my second (coming along slowly), personal problems, nothing remotely funny happening in my life to write about, etc., etc., etc.
But enough about that depressing crap. I want to talk about underwear! They're fun to wear!
I was shopping for some new ones lately (cause you know I've got to look good for all the guys lining up to have sex with me...yeah) and was trying to find a site that had the style I wanted on sale, cause this bitch don't buy stuff at full price, okaaaay?
*Cough*RuPaulmoment*Cough*
Anyway, I came across this site called Skiviez (yes, that's the way it's spelled... sigh...) and lo and behold they had the ones I wanted on clearance! Yay! I originally wanted them in black or charcoal - unfortunately, all they had left were these blue stripes. :-( But who cares what I wanted - they were on sale so stripes it was! Hooray!
It was then that I finally noticed the pictures for this underwear. Usually that's the first thing I notice (a parade o' manmeat!) but I was buying boxers, so how revealing could they be?
And I was right. Revealing? No. But something WAS different about these pictures - let's see if you can figure out what it is:
Picture 1: Everything Looks Normal
Picture 2: So Far So Good...
Picture 3: Ahhh, yess! Grab That Junk! GRAB IT!
Ha! That's a first! And yes, these are REAL pictures from their website. I don't know if someone at the company snuck those in under the radar or an editor quit or what, but it made my day.
Of course, I ordered them. I mean, they were on sale AND I know they can stand up to rigorous grabbage?
What's not to love?
© 2011 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
7.11.2010
Cinderella Needs a Diaper
This past weekend I was in my favorite store in the world, Target, and was walking past the card section on my way out. Unfortunately, I hadn’t found anything wondrous to significantly enhance my quality of life this visit, so I was a little bummed. As I breezed down the aisle, I noticed this lady standing next to the rack of cards, her small child perched in the front seat of her cart. She and her reproductive dropping were dressed like any other slightly wealthy suburban ass-clones, so I didn’t give them a second thought.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, she lets out this exclamation, screaming it at the top of her lungs, “Cinderella’s ASSHOLE!!?!”
I stopped dead. My ears rose about five inches into the air, spontaneously grew pointed Spock tips, and turned bright red.
WhohuhWHAT?! Come AGAIN?
Shocked, my jaw fully dropped, I turned and looked at her again. She now had my (and a couple of other people’s) undivided attention, as anyone who would stand in the middle of a crowded department store and yell about Cinderella’s chocolate starfish certainly deserved it.
But then my brain made it worse. I mean, yes, it was bad enough that she was yelling this blasphemous statement in a public place, but it was worse because she had somehow managed to make it into the form of a question. WHY? WHY WOULD THIS BE A QUESTION?
I just didn’t understand it, and now all my brain could do was to try and think of the reverse-Jeopardy answer that would fit it. Uh, “Image that topped ‘Human Centipede’ as the most soul-destroying thing you have ever seen?” Or, “Mentioned (and shown) in the porn version, ‘Sin and Her Fella?’” Oh, I know! How about, “#1 instant boner-killer!” for a thousand, Alex?
Ms. Yuptastic seemed oblivious to the ruckus she had caused, pointing at a card her son held in his tiny hands and laughing at the image on the front. It was then that my brain caught up with my ears and realized that:
a) The woman in question had a thick, unidentifiable accent.
b) She had said, “Cinderella’s CASTLE” not “ASSHOLE” and was looking at said image on the card her son held.
Disappointed, (and oddly relieved) I resumed my trek towards the exit. Later that day, I realized I had literally gone decades on this planet without ever contemplating the existence of Cinderella’s (extremely clean, I’m sure) nether hole.
And I was uncontrovertibly happy about that.
But now, thanks to this innocence-destroying lady, the workings of Cinderella’s puckered poop chute would haunt my dirtied and defiled mind for the rest of the day.
Damn her to Disney hell.
© 2010 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, she lets out this exclamation, screaming it at the top of her lungs, “Cinderella’s ASSHOLE!!?!”
I stopped dead. My ears rose about five inches into the air, spontaneously grew pointed Spock tips, and turned bright red.
WhohuhWHAT?! Come AGAIN?
Shocked, my jaw fully dropped, I turned and looked at her again. She now had my (and a couple of other people’s) undivided attention, as anyone who would stand in the middle of a crowded department store and yell about Cinderella’s chocolate starfish certainly deserved it.
But then my brain made it worse. I mean, yes, it was bad enough that she was yelling this blasphemous statement in a public place, but it was worse because she had somehow managed to make it into the form of a question. WHY? WHY WOULD THIS BE A QUESTION?
I just didn’t understand it, and now all my brain could do was to try and think of the reverse-Jeopardy answer that would fit it. Uh, “Image that topped ‘Human Centipede’ as the most soul-destroying thing you have ever seen?” Or, “Mentioned (and shown) in the porn version, ‘Sin and Her Fella?’” Oh, I know! How about, “#1 instant boner-killer!” for a thousand, Alex?
Ms. Yuptastic seemed oblivious to the ruckus she had caused, pointing at a card her son held in his tiny hands and laughing at the image on the front. It was then that my brain caught up with my ears and realized that:
a) The woman in question had a thick, unidentifiable accent.
b) She had said, “Cinderella’s CASTLE” not “ASSHOLE” and was looking at said image on the card her son held.
Disappointed, (and oddly relieved) I resumed my trek towards the exit. Later that day, I realized I had literally gone decades on this planet without ever contemplating the existence of Cinderella’s (extremely clean, I’m sure) nether hole.
And I was uncontrovertibly happy about that.
But now, thanks to this innocence-destroying lady, the workings of Cinderella’s puckered poop chute would haunt my dirtied and defiled mind for the rest of the day.
Damn her to Disney hell.
© 2010 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
5.16.2010
OTC = On The Chest
Have you seen the new TV ad for Zegerid OTC? I think it's some sort of antacid or something - I wasn't really paying attention because the commercial itself is SO weird.
This guy comes out, talks about Zegerid, blah, blah, blah, and then says something like, "Let me show you how it works."
And then he just takes off his shirt.
Ok, wow, this commercial just got interesting! At least, I thought so - random guys stripping out of their clothes is ALWAYS appreciated in any commercial. Really. Any. One. At. All. At. Any. Time. Any. Where. Thank. You.
Then the guy proceeds to grab a brush and some paint and paint on his chest (?) images that explain how Zegerid works.
I know, those ad guys were seriously smoking something. Hello, weird?
But, here's the weirdest part: the guy they chose for the commercial has the most asexual chest I have ever seen on any guy ever. I mean, I understand what the makers of the product were going for - they don't want some hot guy flashing his chesty man-meat at the drooling viewers and have them forget all about what they are selling. The problem is, they made the decision to HAVE HIM TAKE OFF HIS SHIRT AND PAINT ON IT. Nothing they do can change that fact, so why didn't they at least let the guy retain some semblance of, I don't know - MANLINESS to his appearance?
His weird, fully shaved, oddly not developed yet not flabby yet not woman pre-/post-pubescent dough chest is just flat out disturbing.
I now need a shower.
And not in a good way.
© 2010 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
This guy comes out, talks about Zegerid, blah, blah, blah, and then says something like, "Let me show you how it works."
And then he just takes off his shirt.
Ok, wow, this commercial just got interesting! At least, I thought so - random guys stripping out of their clothes is ALWAYS appreciated in any commercial. Really. Any. One. At. All. At. Any. Time. Any. Where. Thank. You.
Then the guy proceeds to grab a brush and some paint and paint on his chest (?) images that explain how Zegerid works.
I know, those ad guys were seriously smoking something. Hello, weird?
But, here's the weirdest part: the guy they chose for the commercial has the most asexual chest I have ever seen on any guy ever. I mean, I understand what the makers of the product were going for - they don't want some hot guy flashing his chesty man-meat at the drooling viewers and have them forget all about what they are selling. The problem is, they made the decision to HAVE HIM TAKE OFF HIS SHIRT AND PAINT ON IT. Nothing they do can change that fact, so why didn't they at least let the guy retain some semblance of, I don't know - MANLINESS to his appearance?
His weird, fully shaved, oddly not developed yet not flabby yet not woman pre-/post-pubescent dough chest is just flat out disturbing.
I now need a shower.
And not in a good way.
© 2010 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
The Solution to All Unhappiness in the World Ever
I was watching some crappy TV news this morning while getting ready to go to the gym (which I never got to...whatever) and saw some disgusting "infoTAINTment" ad from Discovery Health that was so horrendously misguided and vile I just had to post.
I just lost a really good friend recently (no, they didn't die; no, we don't hate each other) and losing this person was just as hard as if we had been in a relationship. It's lots of days of me missing them and wanting to talk to them and, basically, not having them in my life is really, really depressing.
Then this cheery "ad" from Discovery Health comes on and tells me that, "Lots of people are unhappy because they lack love in their life."
NO SHIT.
HUH.
THANKS FOR THE OBVIOUS, FUCKO!
They then continue to say that, "Tests have been done that show, even from an early age, that people need love to conduct happy and healthy lives."
Sooooooo...
1) raised in nice home with loving parents = happiness
and
2) raised in a dog cage by human eyeball collector = unhappiness
Thanks Discovery Health!
After I take a break to vomit, the announcer continues to helpfully explain that, "Lack of love can cause stress (SHOCKER) which makes your levels of Cortisol go up and can cause you to gain weight."
So I'll be miserably alone AND overweight! Wow, Discovery Health, you ARE making me feel SO MUCH BETTER ALREADY! (...sound of me putting my dick into garbage disposal...)
But then they offer a SOLUTION to this torture and madness! Oh, thank the GOOD LORD ABOVE! WE'RE SAVED BY DISCOVERY HEALTH! What miraculous cure do they suggest for the lack of love and affection suffered by millions upon millions of people all over the world!!!???!!?
"To help combat this, you should try smiling more and giving out random hugs."
ARE YOU DOUBLE-FUCKING MY ANAL HOLE WITH THIS LUDICROUS BULLSHIT!?
Yeah, that's the stuff Discovery Health. Thanks for letting me know that the loss of a really good friend can be combated by smiling more and giving out random hugs. I'm sure after I gay hug the guy at Wal-Mart and he grinds my jaw into the pavement I'll feel SO much better.
Jesus.
© 2010 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
I just lost a really good friend recently (no, they didn't die; no, we don't hate each other) and losing this person was just as hard as if we had been in a relationship. It's lots of days of me missing them and wanting to talk to them and, basically, not having them in my life is really, really depressing.
Then this cheery "ad" from Discovery Health comes on and tells me that, "Lots of people are unhappy because they lack love in their life."
NO SHIT.
HUH.
THANKS FOR THE OBVIOUS, FUCKO!
They then continue to say that, "Tests have been done that show, even from an early age, that people need love to conduct happy and healthy lives."
Sooooooo...
1) raised in nice home with loving parents = happiness
and
2) raised in a dog cage by human eyeball collector = unhappiness
Thanks Discovery Health!
After I take a break to vomit, the announcer continues to helpfully explain that, "Lack of love can cause stress (SHOCKER) which makes your levels of Cortisol go up and can cause you to gain weight."
So I'll be miserably alone AND overweight! Wow, Discovery Health, you ARE making me feel SO MUCH BETTER ALREADY! (...sound of me putting my dick into garbage disposal...)
But then they offer a SOLUTION to this torture and madness! Oh, thank the GOOD LORD ABOVE! WE'RE SAVED BY DISCOVERY HEALTH! What miraculous cure do they suggest for the lack of love and affection suffered by millions upon millions of people all over the world!!!???!!?
"To help combat this, you should try smiling more and giving out random hugs."
ARE YOU DOUBLE-FUCKING MY ANAL HOLE WITH THIS LUDICROUS BULLSHIT!?
Yeah, that's the stuff Discovery Health. Thanks for letting me know that the loss of a really good friend can be combated by smiling more and giving out random hugs. I'm sure after I gay hug the guy at Wal-Mart and he grinds my jaw into the pavement I'll feel SO much better.
Jesus.
© 2010 All Rights Reserved. The author of this blog (pseudonym “Cardboard Whore”) reserves all rights to the content of this post. No part of this post may be reproduced in any way/format without written permission from the author.
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