Verily, I say unto thee, follow my fuckin' blog, lest a plague of frogs rain down upon thy head. Custom cabinets may take longer.
I’m incredibly bored at work today. Bored, bored, bored. Did I mention I’m bored?
Anyone want to fill up my askhole with questions?
Due to a miscalculation on my part regarding my laundry, Jeebus is going commando today.
The good? I like the feeling. A lot.
The bad? I’m constantly on edge that something is going to get caught when I have to zip up.
The ugly? I had Popeye’s last night for dinner, and I’m suppressing the poop I need to take, in case it’s messy and I have to do a “ten-wiper” (you all know what I’m talking about).
I guess I should have called this TMI Tuesday. But everything I’m saying is the truth.
You’re wonderful. Thank you for this. And congratulations are in order regarding young Fozzie. But I digress.
That depends. How much tongue is involved?
I like tongue kissing. If I have to slip it to one of them, I’d choose the bear. For some reason I think she would be more receptive to a little French kiss action than the crocodile. Plus, really, there’s the whole jaw-snapping, tons-o’-teeth thing going on with the crocodile.
Plus, if the bear starts to get mad, I can just play dead. Although who came up with that idea, anyway? Probably the bears. I can see that conversation: “Okay, here’s what we tell them. Play dead, cover yourself in honey, lay on a big plate and don’t run away from us…I mean…THE BEARS.” And really, now I have to rely on my acting skills? I don’t think the bear is going to appreciate the role of the dead guy if she’s hungry.
I wouldn’t ever encounter a bear because I don’t go camping. If being outside is so great, how come all of the bugs are trying to get into my house? I have no desire to be covered in mosquitoes and have to crap standing up. You know why I never went camping as a kid? Because my parents loved me. And what the hell does “happy camper” mean, anyway? The happy camper is the one leaving the campsite and going home to take a real shower.
No, you’re the one getting off track here.
What was the question again?
I’m not able to watch the show until Wednesday night. This makes it hard not to fall victim to the “spoilers” between Tuesday and when I’m able to watch. It’s especially difficult with having a Tumblr and all.
We have a group of five of us that meet in my office at work every Thursday morning to deconstruct the episode and talk about what’s going to happen next. We call it our own “church”. Anyone who’s seen an episode of the show knows what I’m talking about.
I won’t spoil anything. I’m just glad “church” is back in session. On the show and in my office.
Jeebus is especially grouchy today. Just call me Baron Grumpy von Grouchenheimer.
This is the kind of mood when I let the plagues and the pestilence out. So look out for falling locusts.
I’m just sayin’.
I’m doubly flattered when I get a second message saying I’m a favorite. I’ve sent this to 10 followers already, but I’m happy to try to find five more nice things to say about myself:
I’m always flattered to be a favorite of anyone. It makes doing this stupid little blog worth the effort. Five things I like about myself:
Watch out, ten people. This message is coming your way.
Five things that will never cease to be funny…
It’s not Festivus, but it’s time for the airing of some grievances:
That’s about fucking it.
Jeebus has many pet peeves. One of the biggest is when I send an epic email to someone, and I get no response whatsoever. In the past week, I’ve sent an email that was three pages long (according to Microsoft Word) and one that was just over four pages in length. Neither recipient has responded. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into crafting these messages. And nothing. Nada. Zip. Maybe I need to find some new friends. And send a plague of locusts upon the others.