my sudden turn at Blue mosque Sultan Ahmet in Ista

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days run together like it’s one big long one, and if you want in
2008-03-10 15:53:00
So I saw some ducks having a threesome the other morning on my way in to work. Only two of them were actually having the sex, but the other one was right there watching, and I think that should count. It was just like that time back in college when my girlfriend had one of her “friends” come over and, after a bottle or two of wine, one thing led to another and things adjourned to the bedroom; they may have technically been the ones having the sex, but I still went outside, climbed the trellis and watched from the window. Total threesome. Hey Internet, why the hell aren’t you already listening to the Ettes? The only people who don’t like them are lame, and we all know lameness is clinically proven to cause the cancer. And you don’t want that, do you? The cancer? Do it now, then go buy their debut CD and go see them on tour and when you do, tell Coco I said “hi.” I’m hoping they’ll make it big and thank me in the liner no...
More About: Days , Long

and the big pot boils with centuries of conspiracy and cabbages and kings w
2008-03-05 01:37:00
So I was in the Wal-Mart the other day, Internet, and I ran into something that reminded me of you: Hey, guess what! I finally got reviewed over at the Humor-Blogs.com, and some of the reviewers actually gave me bad scores because, get this, they said I offended them. Me. Offensive. OMGLOLROFLMAOLOLOLOL I couldn’t figure it out at first — I mean, what blog were they reading? — but then I realized it was probably just some of the retardeds playing on the computer that done it. And I have a soft spot in my heart for the retardeds, so I guess it’s okay. I’ll turn the other cheek, like Jesus might do if he weren’t made up.
More About: Conspiracy , Kings , Boils

i wait around the train station, waitin’ for that train
2008-02-29 19:45:00
So I’m in this tiny dimly-lit bar on Capitol Hill, right? Wednesday, I think, because I’d been stood up at the train station and needed the love and comfort only a handful of pints could offer, but that’s neither here nor there. So I’m in this tiny dimly-lit bar on Capitol Hill, drinking the beers and swapping the midget stories with some friends when all of the sudden we noticed that things were… quiet. A little too quiet, in fact; we weren’t having to shout to hear each other over the crowd, and yet the bar was packed. Packed with a bunch of the deafs, turns out. Thank god they were the quiet kind of deafs, and not the ones that try to talk and make the noises because, really, who can tolerate that? But still, there must have been 50 of them, all doing deaf things like flailing their hands around and whatever the devil it is the deafs do. And being around that many retardeds at once is a little unnerving, let me tell you. I felt like ...
More About: Train , Station , Wait

this is what i do, this is what i do, this is what i do: i sit on you
2008-02-25 19:41:00
You know the hardest part about flying across the country to attend a seminar and having a midget assigned to your break-out group, forcing you to sit just one chair over from it for three full days? You might think it’d be trying to hold your breath all that time so as not to inhale any dwarf dander, but as usual you’d be wrong and would look stupid and everyone would point and laugh, even more than we do already which I know sounds impossible but trust me, we will. No, the hardest part about flying across the country to attend a seminar and having a midget assigned to your break-out group is that when it comes time to do an exercise and the little critter wants to contribute, you and all the other real people in the group have to pretend you’re taking it seriously and are letting it participate. You’ll even have to look at it, and you can’t crack up and laugh and if you throw up a little in your mouth you have to swallow it right back down ...

look what he has done for us, he’s filled us up with cheer
2008-02-22 16:20:00
Normally you wouldn’t learn this without reading a book on the subject, but since you live too far away to have me run over and help you sound out the big words, Internet, I know that’ll never happen so I’m going to tell you: While your homebrewed beer may be yummy and delicious (and by “your” I mean “my”), all that unfiltered yeast will play havoc with your innards. And by “your” I mean “my.” Here’s a haiku: little bit o’poo resting just inside my ass makes me scared to fart. Totally worth it, though. I’d share some with you, but I don’t like you. Not really.
More About: Cheer

salvation à la mode and a cup of tea
2008-02-16 01:14:00
So I’m walking to the McDonald’s earlier this week — you know the one on Market somewhere around 2nd — to purchase a delicious Sausage Egg McMuffin with which to get the horrible taste of that crappy Wendy’s sandwich out of my mouth, and what do I see but this crippled hobo with his crippled hobo wheel chair parked right in front of the door. “Well that’s just great” I said to myself as I began to ponder whether rolling him into the street would be less taxing than just dumping him out of the chair, but before I could decide he grabbed the door handle and, with the grace only a crippled hobo could muster, rolled his chair backward in a half-circle and opened the door for me. “Thanks” I said to him as I walked past, holding my breath so as to avoid the smell, and inside I went. But as I stood there waiting in line and trying to check out the cute Asian chick next to me as discreetly as possible, a strange thing hap...
More About: Mode , Salvation

i’m rockin’ and you’re yawning but you never
2008-02-11 16:31:00
So there I was, sitting alone in the Houston airport yesterday morning, trying to pretend my Wendy’s breakfast sandwich was just as good as a Sausage Egg McMuffin (but it so. was. not.) when I decided to make with a little of the people watching. And in doing so, something occurred to me that prompted a lot of contemplation and pondering and soul searching during my four-hour flight to San Francisco: I’m really kind of jealous of the black guys. Not so much for their huge cocks or across-the-board athletic abilities or sassy overweight aunties or proficiencies to score with fat, ugly white girls, although those are fine things one and all. No, I’m really kind of jealous of the black guys because of the clothes they get to wear. Hoodies and track suits just look so… comfortable, you know? And don’t even get me started on the sneakers. It’s like you’re walking on air. But I’m just a little too pasty to pull that look off, I’...

on lasalle and rampart street, the combo’s there with a mambo bea
2008-02-05 14:43:00
Happy the Mardi Gras, Internet. I don’t really celebrate it much myself (you know why), but I will gladly take the day off from work. I’m opportunistic like that. In fact, getting the day off for the Mardi Gras is really the only perk to living in south Louisiana. That, and in the Summer when the girls sometimes don’t wear the bras, all the humidity often makes it easier to see nipple. Other than bottling the IPA that’s been brewing in my spare bathtub the past month and packing for a business trip, I think I’ll spend the day writing a haiku. Or two. For you. sorority girls so drunk and, briefly, topless make their fathers proud. mardi gras mambo mambo mambo, party gras just fucking stop it. vomiting frat boys one too many cans of pabst i hope you all die. Okay, so that was three. Didn’t think you were paying attention.
More About: Street , Mambo , Combo

on lasalle and rampart street, the combo’s there with a mambo bea
2008-02-05 14:43:00
[note: i was out of town all week, so i didn’t find out about the server errors until saturday morning. you could have emailed and let me know, but you didn’t and i hate you for it. i fixed it for you anyway, because even though i hate you, i’d still like to get you in the sack. and boy, will i…] Happy the Mardi Gras, Internet. I don’t really celebrate it much myself (you know why), but I will gladly take the day off from work. I’m opportunistic like that. In fact, getting the day off for the Mardi Gras is really the only perk to living in south Louisiana. That, and in the Summer when the girls sometimes don’t wear the bras, all the humidity often makes it easier to see nipple. Other than bottling the IPA that’s been brewing in my spare bathtub the past month and packing for a business trip, I think I’ll spend the day writing a haiku. Or two. For you. sorority girls so drunk and, briefly, topless make their fathers p...
More About: Street , Mambo , Combo

you can’t find it in you like you think you can
2008-01-29 16:05:00
Hey there, Internet. I’m sorry I’ve been neglectful of you recently, but the truth of the matter is that my life has been one pointy toe shoed kick in the nuts the past several weeks, and I’ve been all out of funny. True, some might argue that I’ve always been all out of funny, but to those I would say “look, I don’t care how long we’ve been married, if I wanted my wife’s opinion, I’d have sent you a text message asking for it.” I like communicating with her via the text because I find the shorter the message, the less of the boring. I had a dream last night I was giving some sex advice to this hot teenager. She had asked for it, mind you — I don’t go about randomly offering unsolicited sex advice in my dreams, not usually anyway — and being the warm and compassionate person you all know me to be, I was doing my best to help her out. But after a little while I sort of half woke up and realized it...
More About: Find

look into my eyes, what do you see?
2008-01-23 01:02:00
Call me old fashioned, but I think it’s just a tad hypocritical for racists to take the day off on MLK. I’m talking about the white and doesn’t like the blacks kind of racist, mind you, and not the black and doesn’t like the whites kind, because I believe they’re well within their rights to take some time off, especially with Black History Month a mere week and change away. Them cardboard illustrations of Eli Whitney ain’t going to cut themselves out along the dotted lines, you know? And I’m certainly not talking about the non-Mexican and doesn’t like the Mexicans kind of racists, because let’s be honest: pretty much everyone fits into that group. But now I’ve gone off on a tangent. Where were we? I celebrated the holiday by drinking heavily and playing Guitar Hero, even five-starring “Cult of Personality” on Hard. For you, Dr. King. For you. [note: you too, vernon reid.] Also yesterday, I saw an SUV tha...
More About: Eyes

does daddy have a shotgun? he said he’d never need one
2008-01-18 17:26:00
Now I’m not nearly macho enough to say it to their hillbilly faces, but as I’m sitting at a computer and have the relative security and anonymity of you at my disposal, Internet, I feel it’s safe to say out loud for one and all to hear that I’m no NASCAR fan. I’m not a redneck, you see, so there’s no way you’ll ever get me to attend a race in person, toothless redneck women flashing their tits and spitting their snuff be damned. I also don’t have a gun rack or a rebel flag t-shirt and have never attended a Klan meeting, but that’s neither here nor there. [note: or is it?] Even so, I’d like to take this opportunity to express my absolute admiration and deepest respect for the entire NASCAR community for continuing to embrace Dale Jr. even though he’s come out as being one of the homos. And it’s not as if he quietly left the closet with the dignity such an event would normally warrant; oh no, he’...
More About: Daddy , Shotgun

razzle ’n’ a dazzle ’n’ a flash a l
2008-01-11 22:39:00
So I’m going through the pantry the other day, looking for expired cans of sirloin burger Chunky to donate to the local food drive for that last-second tax credit like you all do too so stop judging me, when all of the sudden and out of the blue, enlightenment shone its shiny light on me: All Def Leppard songs really do kind of sound alike. So mom, I’m sorry. You told me as much 20 years ago when I begged to see them on the Hysteria tour at the Hirsch Memorial Coliseum but you didn’t feel like taking me even though Tesla was the opening act and I bet they played Little Suzi and held the microphone out over the audience to let them sing the “Little Suzi’s on the up” part and everything. You were right, but I didn’t listen back then. The kids never do, I suppose. Time, though, has opened both my eyes and my ears. Time, and also the “greatest hits” CD I just bought.
More About: Flash

he got joo-joo eyeball, he one holy roller
2008-01-07 20:14:00
Few things make me happier than the knowledge that, from this day forward, anytime you hear the song “Come Together” — either the Beatles or Aerosmith version, I’m not picky — you won’t be able to get past the part that goes “come together, right now, over me” without immediately thinking about bukkake, and then thinking “that’s fucking gross,” and then thinking about me. “God damn you, Jeremy, for putting that in my head” you’ll whisper. “Next time I hear this odd yet catchy song, I will not think about disgusting bukkake” you’ll pledge to yourself as if to show me up. But the next time comes* and surprise! You did it again. [* pun! get it?] Eventually though, you won’t be revulsed by the thought and will even begin to find it funny. Maybe it will bring us closer, you and me, and wouldn’t that be swell? And you’ll hear the song and every time they hit th...
More About: Holy , Eyeball , Roller

i wish i could say no regrets and no emotional debts
2007-12-31 16:58:00
A word to the wise, Internet: When you go to the Babies “R” Us store — as you might do when a friend is expecting and you have to buy a gift, except that you don’t really have friends so it probably won’t ever come up for you — and you see that they have a baby relief section, they’re talking about salves and powders and the like, and not the ear plugs, alcohol and jars of the SIDS you were expecting when you first thought of “baby relief.” But wouldn’t that be a swell idea for a store, to sell jars of the SIDS for new parents to use whenever they’ve had enough? I can see the label now: “The SIDS, Now with More D!” and then in small print at the bottom “Best Used Before: The Little Fucker Starts with the Crying.” People could appease the Jesusy by not having abortions and garner sympathy from the townsfolk (on account of the dead babies) in one fell swoop. More whorish of high school gi...
More About: Regrets , Emotional

are you bringin’ a present for me? something pleasantly pleasant
2007-12-26 20:14:00
A word to the wise, Internet: when given as gifts to children ages 7-12, novelty bars of soap with money stuck in the middle will not encourage more frequent bathing as you so wrongly assumed when you bought them those many weeks ago. Rather, the kids will take one bath — just long enough to soften the soap — and will then use their greasy kid fingers to dig out the rolled-up dollar bills. Their fingernails will be cleaned in the process, though. It’s a Christmas miracle! I chose to celebrate first by drinking heavily, then by sticking Santa hats on various things around my house and taking photos. In years past I’d have given my dog a candy cane bone and then pretended to take it away from him for a heartwarming photo, but he bit me a few months ago so now he’s dead to me. Instead, I opted to start a brand-new tradition: humiliating my cats. Normally I’m dead-set against dressing up pets for any occasion, but it turns out my cats ...
More About: Present , Resent

if someday we get to meet again in a car crash, plane wreck or terrorist at
2007-12-18 22:08:00
If the avoidance of hot, painful and rotten flatulence is a goal of yours this holiday season, I strongly encourage you not to have stewed red cabbage and pork chops for supper, tasty though they may be. I even wrote a haiku to help convince you, since I know you take poetry seriously: in a hot showerletting a cabbage fart ripmight make you nauseous And with that, I’m off to D.C. for a couple of days. Miss me like you mean it. [note: then take a photo and send it to me.]
More About: Meet , Plane , Terrorist , Crash , Some

and wouldn’t old santa be in trouble if there ain’t no
2007-12-13 02:54:00
Speaking of erotic Christmas decorations, this turns me on. Don’t judge me.
More About: Santa

i ain’t like old st. nick; he don’t come but once a yea
2007-12-10 17:41:00
Okay, Internet. I get it. Despite my pleas to whatever shred of decency I thought you may have once possessed, you’ve proven yourself far too attached to crappy inflatable lawn decorations to abandon horrible taste. Undeterred by the whispers of “abomination” you assuredly hear around the neighborhood (convinced they’re actually complimenting your ten-foot Frosty), I’ve noticed you’ve even upped your inflatable game with animation. And while my instinct is to point out that inflatable Rudolph helping inflatable Santa out of the chimney is most likely a result of your subconscious expressing not only your ineptitude at decorating but also your serious need for help, I know that sort of talk will sail right over your NASCAR capped head. So being chock-full of compassion as I am by my own description, I’ve decided to try seeing things from your perspective. And you know what? After a half can of snuff and a four pack of wine coole...
More About: Nick

staring at the goldfish bowl, poppin’ phenobarbitol
2007-12-07 18:55:00
You ever wake up in the middle of the night and flip your pillow over, only to find the other side isn’t cool to the touch? You know that feeling of frustration you get as you flip it back over (in case you went too far the first time) but it’s still warm? The disappointment that comes with resigning yourself to a sleepless night resting your fat, pumpkin head on an unbearably warm pillow? Yeah, well, that’s how we feel about you. Me. Your parents. Jesus. All of us. And I’m sorry to be so blunt about it, but it really is for your own good. Consider this an intervention of sorts. We want you to get some help and pull yourself together, your parents and Jesus and me, and we’ll be here, right beside you, every step along the way. Your parents and Jesus will be, at least. I would, but I’ve got shit to do.
More About: Goldfish , Staring , The G , Bowl

christmas is a comin’ look out for twinkle elf, making christmas
2007-12-03 19:37:00
Two minutes, forty-two seconds. That’s precisely how much time you’ve got at the mall on a Sunday afternoon during the Christmas shopping season before you’re ready to stab every single person in the eye with that spork you ate your mashed potatoes and gravy with. But great news, heavyset woman shoving the oversized cinnamon roll into your mouth and pretending your little girl isn’t screaming and crying at the top of her lungs not three feet away from me: I left it at the Dairy Queen, in the plastic basket along with part of a steak finger and half a styrofoam cup of white gravy. Little Becky will escape my wrath, unscarred and ready for her Libby Lu makeover and photo shoot. Unscarred in the physical sense, that is; evidence that her own fat mother thought she wasn’t pretty enough at the age of six will probably do some emotional damage, but maybe in a few years it’ll give her therapist something to blame the anorexia and heroin addictio...
More About: Twinkle

i’m so happy! you’re so nice! kiss kiss kiss! fun fun l
2007-11-29 15:32:00
They say breaking up is hard to do, but I happen to have it on pretty high authority that it’s harder still to receive. Times two, even. That’s the word on the street, anyway. Hey! Want to know the best thing about this midlife crisis I’m going through? [note: short pause for your answer.] Well Internet, the best thing about this midlife crisis I’m going through is that it pretty much guarantees my liver is going to hold up another 32 years. For real. It’s in the language of the contract. So score one for the home team. But that’s just me, I suppose… you know, Mr. Sunshine, living in a world of kittens and lollipops and unicorns, always looking on the bright side of things. You could learn a thing or two.
More About: Kiss , Happy , Nice

the outdoorsman: a haiku
2007-11-26 21:05:00
sitting by the fire occasional whiffs of smoke turn your boogers black.
More About: Haiku

it’s the type of meal he can’t resist, when there&#
2007-11-21 21:37:00
I don’t know about you, but I’ve always found something about Thanksgiving to seem, I don’t know, a tad dirty and whorish. But maybe it’s just me. I don’t know. And listen, I understand that you’re very much into it and that you think it’s addictive and the wave of the future and the greatest thing since yummy pork cracklins and beer (the two great tastes that taste great together), but I’ve got to tell you, Internet: I really don’t think I get the whole Twitter thing. But I’m giving it a shot. For you. [note: it was either that or watch the video of those two girls eating shit, and that’s just fucking gross.] [note: i mean, why? why would you do that? and that it exists is bad enough, but you sick fucks actually seek it out and watch it? knowingly? really?] [note: so yeah. twitter it is.] Have a yam-tastic Turkeynecks Day, Internet.
More About: Type , Meal

understanding me and understanding you is not an easy thing to do
2007-11-16 21:40:00
Listen up, Internet. Being an advocate of civil liberties as I claim to be on my Myspace profile, I respect every individual’s right to look as stupid as he or she wishes and, hence, do not normally spread around unsolicited advice regarding personal fashion choices. Which isn’t to say I refrain from the pointing and laughing that goes along with your usual wardrobe selections, mind you, because I also respect my right to make fun of you. Like everyone else does. I’m going to break my own rule, though. I have to, just this once. Because doing so serves humanity’s best interests. To everyone who thinks it’s appropriate to wear denim shirts with blue jeans: Seriously? The denim of your jeans never matches the denim of your shirt, not really. And even if it did — say you bought the jeans and shirt as a matching set in whatever Wal-Mart store located in hell (or the South (redundant)) you usually buy your clothes at — is that really...
More About: Easy , Thing , Understanding

i’m beginning to think (though i’m open to sway) that,
2007-11-12 14:11:00
Day four of the conference and, as I sat waiting for the first session to start, cute, star-shaped tattoo girl walked up to my table, touched the chair next to mine, then looked towards her friend as if to say “let’s sit here.” My heart raced. What joy! What bliss! But her friend — her stupid fucking nazi cunt of a friend — said “no,” and they sat at the next table over. So close, and yet so god fucking damnit. It being the last day, I decided to take matters into my own hands and, between sessions one and two, knelt down in the back of the room ninjaesque© and waited for her to come back from potty break and choose a seat. I became the hunter, she my prey, and as soon as the opportunity presented itself, I pounced as a hyena might on a wildebeest, a cute wildebeest with a small, star-shaped tattoo on the back of its neck, almost completely (though not entirely) obscured from sight via combination of blouse collar and short yet f...
More About: Open

how many drugs does it take to get you out of my mind?
2007-11-07 20:25:00
Oh, come on, Internet; catheterizing the elderly? Old woman ass rubbing against your shoulder? Nothing? Fine. Whatever. Maybe it’s just me, but I find it nigh-impossible to see a morbidly obese person wearing a solid purple shirt without immediately thinking of: Violet Beauregard Grape Ape Barney or Grimace (thanks, honey) Although not necessarily in that order. In fact, I think of Grimace mostly now. Maybe it’s my Ronald McDonald ’do. Also: In slightly more than two full days here, I’ve already seen two (2) midgets scurrying about Cambridge, nibbling on stray bits of cheese and breadcrumbs, no doubt planning to regurgitate later into the mouths of their larvae. And I fear infestation. Come on, Boston; mix in some Raid now and then. Putting my phone on vibrate, slipping it into my pocket, then having people send me text messages all day long is a fun way to pass the time. I simply cannot look at a woman speaking into a handheld mic...
More About: Drugs , Mind

how i wonder what you are
2007-11-06 16:18:00
Traveling for work — spending hours upon hours in airports and airplanes and small, crowded, smoky, dimly-lit dive bars trolling for hookers — gives a man a lot of time to think, to ponder this crazy world we live in and, when inspiration presents itself, to devise methods for the betterment of all our lives. Well I’ve been traveling for work, Internet, and inspiration is running rampant. I propose that, from now on, we should force catheterization upon the elderly, for all flights — domestic and international — lasting longer than two hours. Because quite frankly, Internet, I am dead-set against Grandma Madge’s polyester-covered old woman ass rubbing against my shoulder over and over as she shuffles up and down the aisle nonstop, her 70-year-old bladder unable to hold that six ounces of complimentary ginger ale for longer than 20 minutes. Here are a few things I’ve discovered the past couple of days: The open display of ass crac...
More About: I Wonder

i feel alright, mama, i’m not joking
2007-11-04 16:46:00
I can’t take this anymore. You. I can’t take you anymore. So I’m leaving for Boston in a few hours, to drink my fill of Sam Adams and eat my fill of baked beans and to get as far away from you as I possibly can, Internet. They don’t get you in Boston, you know. That’s what I heard, at least. And if I’m lucky, I’ll meet a girl whose name starts with “t” and who likes to party. Can you even begin to imagine the jokes? What a time we’d have! What fun!
More About: Mama , Feel , Alright

dans cette vallée de larmes qu’est la vie, viens avec
2007-10-24 19:56:00
I’ve been neglecting you, Internet. I realize you visit my website on a regular basis, mainly looking for midget jokes but often with the sole intent of drinking from the well of my wisdom in hopes of gaining something — anything — that you might be able to take back and use to enrich your own sad and pathetic life which, were it not for my guidance, would otherwise be wasted away getting fat from the large volume of Doritos and Mountain Dew you’d consume for nourishment, fuel for the hours and hours you’d spend “living” in pretend online “worlds,” texting shorthand to the cutest avatar you can find even though deep down in your heart you know it’s really a dude. WTG HOMO! OMG LOL! Well gather ’round, kids; Uncle Jeremy shall be inattentive no more. Here’s a reason that should never be used as the deciding factor in getting married: China. Trust me on this one, Internet. Sure, in the weeks leading u...
More About: Armes