A Blog Dedicated to the Sometimes, Funny, Vulgar, Loud, and Silent Flatulence that Accompanies Life.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Random Useless Question?
Do you ever wonder how many random photo's you are in? Like in someone else's background (See above)? And do you ever wonder if you look good in them? Obviously in the photo above the answer is 100% smoking hot. :)
Thursday, December 27, 2012
The Biggest Loser!
A few years back I tried out for the Biggest Loser. Apparently I was fat enough to be flown to Salt Lake City for an interview with the producers. I met the producers at the posh Salt lake city Hotel Monaco http://www.monaco-saltlakecity.com/. I was extremely nervous knowing that if I nailed this it would change my life forever. I entered the room visibly nervous and shook all the producers hands and then posed with my shirt off , for what I could only presume, was for the photo cattle call back at their offices in Los Angeles. I actually pictured them back in LA in a dark room, just like the scene out of Animal House, where my picture comes up and they all start screaming and throwing cheesy puffs and sodas at it. As the shutter on the camera clicked I pushed my stomach out a little further then normal thinking any little bit would help. I sat down for the interview portion of the afternoon. It was the strangest interview I have ever been involved with. I spent over an hour trying to convince these people what a fat pathetic loser I was. To only be told after an hour and a full box of tissues later, I wasn't pathetic enough. Do you know what that does to guy like me? I didn't know if I was a bigger loser or less of a loser for not being picked. I shook their hands and vowed to them I would return fatter and more pathetic then anyone they have or will ever cast. As I got up from the table I grabbed two donuts from a plate and shoved them in my mouth saying "starting now!"
But on the short flight home I rehashed the interview over and over in my head. What did I do wrong? What could I have done better? Should I have gone in there on a hoveround?
I got off the plane in Colorado Springs disappointed and dejected. My girlfriend picked me up out front of the terminal. She could tell right away something was wrong and asked me how it went. I told her every painful detail of the interview and finished it off with I didn't get chosen. I teared up a bit and held my head down. At that moment I felt her hand on my back as she quickly and confidently reassured me that I was the same pathetic loser that ruined her life ten years ago. I raised my head, looked out the window, smiled and said "Who's the Biggest Loser now?"
But on the short flight home I rehashed the interview over and over in my head. What did I do wrong? What could I have done better? Should I have gone in there on a hoveround?
I got off the plane in Colorado Springs disappointed and dejected. My girlfriend picked me up out front of the terminal. She could tell right away something was wrong and asked me how it went. I told her every painful detail of the interview and finished it off with I didn't get chosen. I teared up a bit and held my head down. At that moment I felt her hand on my back as she quickly and confidently reassured me that I was the same pathetic loser that ruined her life ten years ago. I raised my head, looked out the window, smiled and said "Who's the Biggest Loser now?"
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Merry Christmas And Peace On Earth On Full Automatic
Merry Christmas and Peace on Earth fully locked and loaded. I'm sure this is what the baby Jesus wanted on his birthday.Lol.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Blatant Self Promotion
I hope you all have enjoyed my recent ramblings and stick around for future ones that are sure to come, if we all survive tomorrow of course. So I want to say that I am sorry to interrupt The Daily Fart with blatant self promotion. But I have this really strange fantasy. That one day I will be walking a street in my town or a far away place and come face to face with someone wearing this shirt.
Or one like it. So please help me fulfill this fantasy by going to http://www.cafepress.com/dancekevin and check out the many designs my sister help create. I think you will find something for you or that hard to shop for friend. And if none of these designs excite you, Try http://www.zazzle.com/dancingkevinsshop/gifts I've been working on more silly designs like this.
So support the Daily Fart and spread the word. Thanks again for reading. And remember, keep farting. It's not healthy to hold it in.
Or one like it. So please help me fulfill this fantasy by going to http://www.cafepress.com/dancekevin and check out the many designs my sister help create. I think you will find something for you or that hard to shop for friend. And if none of these designs excite you, Try http://www.zazzle.com/dancingkevinsshop/gifts I've been working on more silly designs like this.
So support the Daily Fart and spread the word. Thanks again for reading. And remember, keep farting. It's not healthy to hold it in.
Caught In The Act
Uh oh...those TSA agents don't let anything past them...not even a poor guy trying to relieve himself!! Taken a few years back while I worked for an airline. Just trying to keep the Daily Fart Classy friends.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Blizzard Brawl Nutcracker
Now one of the many benefits of doing TV commercials for radio stations is getting asked to do some pretty neat and outrageous things. In Milwaukee, one of those crazy things I did was to participate in a pro wrestling event called Blizzard Brawl http://blizzardbrawl.blogspot.com/. It was the third annual Blizzard Brawl and I was asked to guest referee a match between the late wrestling legend Luna Vachon and TNA's own Traci Brooks. I was extremely honored and excited, because I grew up watching Luna wrestle and, well, Traci Brooks is pretty hot. I was so charged up, that I hardly noticed the two hours it took to paint ref stripes and The Brew's logo onto my shirtless body.
The paint job must have looked great, because people were clamoring for pictures of Dancing Kevin in his ref gear. The time leading up to the match just flew by.
When the time grew near, we learned that the Blizzard Brawl was going to be Luna's very last match after 35 years in the business. Because of injuries, Luna was going to relinquish her belt to Traci Brooks instead of fighting.
The announcer asked Luna to come out and say a few things to the fans. Halfway through her speech, Traci grabbed me and lead me out to the ring among a mixture of cheers and boos.
We entered the ring and Luna was surprised. I asked if I could say some things and she allowed me to tell her how honored I was to be there for her last match and how I watched her as a kid and loved watching her....when suddenly, Traci yanked the mike out of my hand and began talking!
She began to heap praise onto the grateful Luna.--then--without warning--Traci tells Luna that because she isn't going to defend the belt, Luna doesn't deserve it. Traci yanks the belt away from Luna. Of course, this infuriated Luna and she took a swing at Traci. I...being the ref...felt the need to protect Traci from the sucker punch and blocked it with my arm. This was a BIG MISTAKE.
Luna turned her fury towards me and lands a very swift and prearranged kick to my man parts with her pointy boots, but instead of missing she landed a death blow to my poor boys. I dropped instantly and rolled out of the ring onto the floor clinching my injured manhood. As I writhed painfully on the ground a twelve year old boy stood over me and pointed at me and yells "Find your balls and put 'em back in your pants, you loser!" As I tried to grasp what was transpiring and analyze what caused the slow decay of western civilization that had led up to this particular moment, I see Traci thrown out of the ring. I stumble over to grab her and get her out of there when I look up to see Luna. She was clearly not finished kicking Traci's ass. As Luna threw Traci into the crowd and the crowd scattered I became a spectator instead of a participant. Until someone yelled "Hey, you're the ref shouldn't you be trying to break this up." I snapped back to reality and tried to get between the two combatants to only be quickly tossed over three to five chairs. As I struggled to get back up I began to think. "This isn't the way we planned it. I think these two ladies really want to kill each other." I began to panic a little bit.
Luna and Traci fought their way back to the door they came through at the beginning of the match. When they got near the back, there were tables set up selling wrestling memorabilia.
Luna picked Traci up and threw her across the table .I jumped up, got between Luna and the table, waving my hands screaming "That's it, no more" Luna actually grabbed me and threw me over the table. I got up and tried to calm her down again. Luna once again grabbed me and threw me over another table, this one containing old WWE VHS videos. This is beginning to get out of hand.
As I picked myself up off the ground I saw Traci fall through the back door with Luna closely behind her swinging a very large chair. I busted through the door thinking she's going to kill Traci. As the door closed behind me and I fell to my knees out of breath reaching out yelling "Stop it." Luna looks at me drops the chair and smiles. Then turns to Traci and they give each other the biggest hug. Reality steps back in.
The paint job must have looked great, because people were clamoring for pictures of Dancing Kevin in his ref gear. The time leading up to the match just flew by.
When the time grew near, we learned that the Blizzard Brawl was going to be Luna's very last match after 35 years in the business. Because of injuries, Luna was going to relinquish her belt to Traci Brooks instead of fighting.
The announcer asked Luna to come out and say a few things to the fans. Halfway through her speech, Traci grabbed me and lead me out to the ring among a mixture of cheers and boos.
We entered the ring and Luna was surprised. I asked if I could say some things and she allowed me to tell her how honored I was to be there for her last match and how I watched her as a kid and loved watching her....when suddenly, Traci yanked the mike out of my hand and began talking!
She began to heap praise onto the grateful Luna.--then--without warning--Traci tells Luna that because she isn't going to defend the belt, Luna doesn't deserve it. Traci yanks the belt away from Luna. Of course, this infuriated Luna and she took a swing at Traci. I...being the ref...felt the need to protect Traci from the sucker punch and blocked it with my arm. This was a BIG MISTAKE.
Luna turned her fury towards me and lands a very swift and prearranged kick to my man parts with her pointy boots, but instead of missing she landed a death blow to my poor boys. I dropped instantly and rolled out of the ring onto the floor clinching my injured manhood. As I writhed painfully on the ground a twelve year old boy stood over me and pointed at me and yells "Find your balls and put 'em back in your pants, you loser!" As I tried to grasp what was transpiring and analyze what caused the slow decay of western civilization that had led up to this particular moment, I see Traci thrown out of the ring. I stumble over to grab her and get her out of there when I look up to see Luna. She was clearly not finished kicking Traci's ass. As Luna threw Traci into the crowd and the crowd scattered I became a spectator instead of a participant. Until someone yelled "Hey, you're the ref shouldn't you be trying to break this up." I snapped back to reality and tried to get between the two combatants to only be quickly tossed over three to five chairs. As I struggled to get back up I began to think. "This isn't the way we planned it. I think these two ladies really want to kill each other." I began to panic a little bit.
Luna and Traci fought their way back to the door they came through at the beginning of the match. When they got near the back, there were tables set up selling wrestling memorabilia.
Luna picked Traci up and threw her across the table .I jumped up, got between Luna and the table, waving my hands screaming "That's it, no more" Luna actually grabbed me and threw me over the table. I got up and tried to calm her down again. Luna once again grabbed me and threw me over another table, this one containing old WWE VHS videos. This is beginning to get out of hand.
As I picked myself up off the ground I saw Traci fall through the back door with Luna closely behind her swinging a very large chair. I busted through the door thinking she's going to kill Traci. As the door closed behind me and I fell to my knees out of breath reaching out yelling "Stop it." Luna looks at me drops the chair and smiles. Then turns to Traci and they give each other the biggest hug. Reality steps back in.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Addicted to Brew
I know it's been a while since my last posting in the Daily Fart, but do not fret. I have been working on a story that I believe and hope you will find entertaining. But in the meantime I will leave you Daily Fartones with this. As many of you know, I have had the great opportunity to star in some tv commercials for a few radio stations around the United States and Canada This full length video was shot for the station where it all started, 105.7 the Brew http://www.thebrew1057.com/main.html in Columbus Ohio. It was a parody of Robert Palmer's 80's mega hit Addicted to Love but with a Brew twist. All the the people you see in this video are played by me. I learned during this shoot a very valuable lesson. I do not make a pretty lady. So sit back and enjoy. Please feel free to share and comment.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Chasing The Sun
With the season's first snowfall, I was reminded of a story from my early day's working for America West Airlines in Columbus, Ohio. It was the winter of 1998/1999 and I woke up to a snowstorm in central Ohio. I turned on the television just in time to see the local news break into the regular scheduled programming to give us an exclusive (not really exclusive as every local station gives the same report annually at any hint of a possible snowflake) report from the ODOT salt hanger. While the reporter bent down to hold a little salt in her hand at the bottom of the screen a ticket tape showing area schools, events and airline cancellations or delays were rolling on and on. It was during this endless roll of cancellations and delays I had my epiphany. I could sit here locked up in my house watching the endless breaking weather reports, or listen to the radio as callers and DJ's complain about the snow they had to drive through. Or I could to do something about it. Since I had the next two day's off, I chose to do something about it. I grabbed my keys and got in my car and pointed it towards the airport.
Getting to the airport was no easy task. The snow was coming down harder then I anticipated. The roads, although passable, were covered with drivers who thought it best to use the brake instead of the gas pedal. As I inched closer and closer to the airport at a snails pace I began to wonder if this was a bad idea. Was I going to get there to only find out all the flights have been cancelled? Or that so many other flights were cancelled from other airlines that they put all those people on the one flight I was planning to get on? Or was I, judging from this traffic, ever going to get there on time? But just when all things looked lost the airport exit came into view, I made it. When I got to the airport I made a B line to the America West ticket counter and asked one of my co workers if the Phoenix flight was full or leaving at all. She told me yes it had seats and it was leaving and booked me on the flight quickly as it was going to be leaving in about an hour. I got to the gate just as they were beginning to board. Now as a nonrev passenger this is the most stressful time. Anything can happen as they board the flight. This is when you begin to pray for a twelve car pile up on 270, one that no one gets hurt of course, just one that keeps all those other people that are late off this flight. They finally started to clear standbys. I felt relieved when they called my name and handed me a boarding pass. I got in my seat by the window and looked out at my co workers struggling in the snow. If this was the day before it would of been me out there. I was thankful it wasn't and sad for them. A few minutes passed and the door of the aircraft was closed and the inflights put on their "this is how you operate a seat buckle" show and we were on our way. As the plane climbed into the air I looked down at the snow covered city and watched until we broke through the clouds and couldn't see it any more. I've made it, I've escaped the wintery prison below. As I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes I thought, "now what?"
I woke up just as our plane touched ground at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. As we taxied to the gate I realized I had not really formulated a plan what to do next. Should I stay in Phoenix or should I go somewhere else? Guess I'm going to find out. I walked off the plane into the hustle and bustle that is the Phoenix airport. I looked around and said to myself, "naw, this isn't where I want to be today."
Just at that moment the gate next to the one I just got off began boarding a flight going to San Diego. I thought out loud "why not?" I turned and walked over to the gate agent and asked her if they had seats available on this flight. They did and I quickly got a boarding pass and was walking down the jet bridge to a destination that, just a few hours ago I knew was the setting for Three's Company.
As the plane took off I was very excited. Not only because this was the first time I was ever going to California, or to see the Pacific Ocean. I was excited because of the adventure I embarked on. It was a short flight over to San Diego and as we approached the airport I could see, for the very first time, the massive expanse of the Pacific Ocean. It was incredible. I knew exactly where I wanted to go when I finally got off that plane.
When I did get off the plane I made my way to the America West ticket counter and asked the lady working there what was the quickest way to the water. She told me I could just walk outside the terminal and catch a 5 minute bus ride that will take me to the Star of India, a boat moored in the harbor, it's not the ocean but it's the quickest to the water. I said that would do and thanked her. I took the bus to the harbor and exited near the Star of India. I took a deep breath, smelling the salty air. I made it. I walked to the very end of a pier that was there and sat down with my feet dangling over the side taking in the entire scene. I watched boats come and go. Seagulls land near by and demand food from bystanders that decided to eat lunch there. But mostly, I just enjoyed the warmth of the sun as it beat down on my face. My smile must of been as noticeable as Mount Rushmore because a lady walked up to me and started a conversation. We talked about what a beautiful day it was in San Diego and how it's pretty much a beautiful day in San Diego everyday. I told her where I was from and that I work for an airline. And when I got up that morning it was snowing like crazy, so I decided to get on a plane and come to San Diego. She then asked me , out of all the places I could of gone, what brought me there to San Diego? I replied to her "I was just chasing the sun."
I told this story to my friend Andy Hawk. A very talented songwriter and singer. It inspired him to write this song.
Getting to the airport was no easy task. The snow was coming down harder then I anticipated. The roads, although passable, were covered with drivers who thought it best to use the brake instead of the gas pedal. As I inched closer and closer to the airport at a snails pace I began to wonder if this was a bad idea. Was I going to get there to only find out all the flights have been cancelled? Or that so many other flights were cancelled from other airlines that they put all those people on the one flight I was planning to get on? Or was I, judging from this traffic, ever going to get there on time? But just when all things looked lost the airport exit came into view, I made it. When I got to the airport I made a B line to the America West ticket counter and asked one of my co workers if the Phoenix flight was full or leaving at all. She told me yes it had seats and it was leaving and booked me on the flight quickly as it was going to be leaving in about an hour. I got to the gate just as they were beginning to board. Now as a nonrev passenger this is the most stressful time. Anything can happen as they board the flight. This is when you begin to pray for a twelve car pile up on 270, one that no one gets hurt of course, just one that keeps all those other people that are late off this flight. They finally started to clear standbys. I felt relieved when they called my name and handed me a boarding pass. I got in my seat by the window and looked out at my co workers struggling in the snow. If this was the day before it would of been me out there. I was thankful it wasn't and sad for them. A few minutes passed and the door of the aircraft was closed and the inflights put on their "this is how you operate a seat buckle" show and we were on our way. As the plane climbed into the air I looked down at the snow covered city and watched until we broke through the clouds and couldn't see it any more. I've made it, I've escaped the wintery prison below. As I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes I thought, "now what?"
I woke up just as our plane touched ground at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. As we taxied to the gate I realized I had not really formulated a plan what to do next. Should I stay in Phoenix or should I go somewhere else? Guess I'm going to find out. I walked off the plane into the hustle and bustle that is the Phoenix airport. I looked around and said to myself, "naw, this isn't where I want to be today."
Just at that moment the gate next to the one I just got off began boarding a flight going to San Diego. I thought out loud "why not?" I turned and walked over to the gate agent and asked her if they had seats available on this flight. They did and I quickly got a boarding pass and was walking down the jet bridge to a destination that, just a few hours ago I knew was the setting for Three's Company.
As the plane took off I was very excited. Not only because this was the first time I was ever going to California, or to see the Pacific Ocean. I was excited because of the adventure I embarked on. It was a short flight over to San Diego and as we approached the airport I could see, for the very first time, the massive expanse of the Pacific Ocean. It was incredible. I knew exactly where I wanted to go when I finally got off that plane.
When I did get off the plane I made my way to the America West ticket counter and asked the lady working there what was the quickest way to the water. She told me I could just walk outside the terminal and catch a 5 minute bus ride that will take me to the Star of India, a boat moored in the harbor, it's not the ocean but it's the quickest to the water. I said that would do and thanked her. I took the bus to the harbor and exited near the Star of India. I took a deep breath, smelling the salty air. I made it. I walked to the very end of a pier that was there and sat down with my feet dangling over the side taking in the entire scene. I watched boats come and go. Seagulls land near by and demand food from bystanders that decided to eat lunch there. But mostly, I just enjoyed the warmth of the sun as it beat down on my face. My smile must of been as noticeable as Mount Rushmore because a lady walked up to me and started a conversation. We talked about what a beautiful day it was in San Diego and how it's pretty much a beautiful day in San Diego everyday. I told her where I was from and that I work for an airline. And when I got up that morning it was snowing like crazy, so I decided to get on a plane and come to San Diego. She then asked me , out of all the places I could of gone, what brought me there to San Diego? I replied to her "I was just chasing the sun."
I told this story to my friend Andy Hawk. A very talented songwriter and singer. It inspired him to write this song.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
A Scottsman, Irishman and an American Walk into a Bar
Sounds like a beginning to a really great joke doesn't it? Well, it's actually a great beginning to this very true story.
As all of you know, or maybe not knew. I used to work for an airline for thirteen years. And one of the perks of working for an airline were free or very discounted flights to anywhere you wanted to travel. Because of this I have been able to go and do a lot of very cool things and meet a lot of really great people. One of those things I got to do was take my mother, who's of irish descent, to Ireland with my father for a trip of a lifetime. We spent our day's traveling the Irish countryside visiting small towns and big cities. Then at night stopping at an inn or hotel, enjoying an Irish dinner then finishing the evening off with a pint of Guinness while listening to some Irish music and sharing a little bit of craic with the locals. The evening we spent in Killarney wasn't much different then any other night except of one incident I would like to share with you.
After dinner and a pint of Guinness my mother and father were feeling tired and decided to turn in early. I, on the other hand, wanted to stay up a little while and continue to listen to the local Irish band that was playing in the pub. I got up and sat at the bar and ordered another pint from the Irish bartender and began a rather entertaining conversation with him and the Scottish guy sitting next to me. When all of a sudden the door of the pub swung open and a bus load of very loud English tourists came in and sat down at a table. They were so loud and obnoxious that you could barely hear the sound of the Irish bagpipes over their babble. The mood of the bartender and Scotsman visibly changed. Then the loudest member of the English party got up and walked towards us. When he got to the bar he slapped his money on the bar top and ordered a round of beers, loud enough so everyone in the pub could hear, for everyone in his party. After the bartender poured his order. He slapped us hard on the back and said. "Sorry lads, would love to buy you guys a pint but you're not in our party." And walked off laughing. The Scottish guy looks at us and say's in his strong Scottish accent,
"Fucking English."
"We don't need their fucking money." said the Irish bartender in his Irish accent. Then they both looked at me. I raised my head up from my pint and said.
"Don't look at me, we kicked them off our island two hundred years ago."
They both let out a yell and started laughing and smacking me on the back and looking at the English tourists who suddenly became very aware that they were the butt of some kind of joke. Needless to say I didn't need to buy a drink the rest of the night in Killarney.
As all of you know, or maybe not knew. I used to work for an airline for thirteen years. And one of the perks of working for an airline were free or very discounted flights to anywhere you wanted to travel. Because of this I have been able to go and do a lot of very cool things and meet a lot of really great people. One of those things I got to do was take my mother, who's of irish descent, to Ireland with my father for a trip of a lifetime. We spent our day's traveling the Irish countryside visiting small towns and big cities. Then at night stopping at an inn or hotel, enjoying an Irish dinner then finishing the evening off with a pint of Guinness while listening to some Irish music and sharing a little bit of craic with the locals. The evening we spent in Killarney wasn't much different then any other night except of one incident I would like to share with you.
After dinner and a pint of Guinness my mother and father were feeling tired and decided to turn in early. I, on the other hand, wanted to stay up a little while and continue to listen to the local Irish band that was playing in the pub. I got up and sat at the bar and ordered another pint from the Irish bartender and began a rather entertaining conversation with him and the Scottish guy sitting next to me. When all of a sudden the door of the pub swung open and a bus load of very loud English tourists came in and sat down at a table. They were so loud and obnoxious that you could barely hear the sound of the Irish bagpipes over their babble. The mood of the bartender and Scotsman visibly changed. Then the loudest member of the English party got up and walked towards us. When he got to the bar he slapped his money on the bar top and ordered a round of beers, loud enough so everyone in the pub could hear, for everyone in his party. After the bartender poured his order. He slapped us hard on the back and said. "Sorry lads, would love to buy you guys a pint but you're not in our party." And walked off laughing. The Scottish guy looks at us and say's in his strong Scottish accent,
"Fucking English."
"We don't need their fucking money." said the Irish bartender in his Irish accent. Then they both looked at me. I raised my head up from my pint and said.
"Don't look at me, we kicked them off our island two hundred years ago."
They both let out a yell and started laughing and smacking me on the back and looking at the English tourists who suddenly became very aware that they were the butt of some kind of joke. Needless to say I didn't need to buy a drink the rest of the night in Killarney.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
I Love You Pittsburgh
Just wanted to share this video from a very good friend of mine from Pittsburgh that I have had the honor to get to know, Mike Travers. Remember that name, you will most definitely hear it again. Mikes a very funny guy that I worked with for years in Columbus at America West Airlines, and consider one of my closets friends. One summer after we had left that job with the airline Mike, another very talented friend and musician Andy Hawk, and I took a trip up to South Bend, Kenosha, and Chicago to watch Andy do some shows and get in some gigs our self. All three of us made a pledge as we sat on the waterfront of Lake Michigan in Kenosha, that if one of us makes it we all do. Well, it seems that we are all doing some pretty great things and I am proud of Mike and Andy. Mike had written a song about his hometown of Pittsburgh. And it was so well received in Pittsburgh that now it's part of a television campaign on KDKA there. So I wanted to share that video with all of you.
It's great isn't it?
And here's a great song by my buddy Andy Hawk called Chasing the Sun. he actually got the idea from a story I told him from my airlines days. I'll share that story another time, but in the meantime enjoy.
And here's a great song by my buddy Andy Hawk called Chasing the Sun. he actually got the idea from a story I told him from my airlines days. I'll share that story another time, but in the meantime enjoy.
My Obsession, Taking The Fight Public!
Obsession a compulsive, often unreasonable idea or emotion.. We all suffer from them and each one of ours are different. Some may be obsessed with money, sex, or food. Not me, well, maybe the last one a little bit. No, my obsession is so perverse and all consuming that it has permeated every nook and cranny of my life. And I am here to face it and admit to it in front of the blogosphere. This pains me, and my loved ones, but I am. How do I put it? Screw it, I'm just going to say it. I am obsessed with being lazy. That's right I am L- A -Z -Y. I know that may come as a surprise to all of you. But I've been keeping it quite for years, just like Andy Dick has with his career. But thought the best way to get over it, was to face it. And by doing so maybe help other closet lazy people face their fears without fear of ridicule and persecution. Here's my story.
I guess you could say my infliction started at birth when they bundled me up in soft sheets and laid me down in that comfortable cradle for the first time and I said to myself "I like this." Then for the first year or so of my life I did nothing. All my needs were taken care of for me. When I was hungry, they fed me. When I needed bathing, they washed me, and when I did my business, well they took care of that too. It was a lifestyle that I grew accustomed to and relished in. Heck I didn't even have to worry about walking anywhere. They would just put me in a nice stroller and push me where ever I wanted to go. Oh those were a lazy mans days. Of course there were obstacles. I remember when they tried to teach me how to walk. I fought that tooth and nail and was able to hold on in my stroller steadfastly until I was seven when I no longer fit in it.
I also remember the first time I sweated. Oh what a horrible day that was. I was playing some sport and stopped and was wondering what the salty discharge on my forehead was and why was it so cumbersome to breath? I did not like that. Plus the next day my muscles were sore and that was something this guy didn't ever want to experience again. So I figured out, I could still enjoy sport from the comfort of my own couch with the bonus of my favorite snack without the uncomfortable feeling of physical activity. Plus, I could exert my superior knowledge of all things sports that I have gained from my many years of watching sporting events on the television, by tweeting random tweets, or post on sport pages why this player, coach or team sucks and what they need to do if they ever want to amount to crap. And if I'm feeling really active I'll pick up a phone and call my local sports radio station and berate those same players/coaches, that have dedicated their entire lives to whatever sport they practice, why they need to catch the first bus out of town because they obviously stink. Thank god for technology, it really helps the lazy to maintain their lifestyle.
But being lazy has come with a hefty price. For one it has hindered me from being famous. Yes, that's right, I should be a famous comedian by now. But I am to lazy to sit down, write jokes, practice those said jokes and then go perform those same jokes. Keeping me from reaching my full comedic potential. That my friends is a tragedy not just for me but the entire world. Could you imagine if Bill Gates was lazy like me? Then you wouldn't be reading this I guess. My lazy obsession even turned it's evil head for this blog entry. I wanted to write this three days ago but there was a Who's The Boss marathon on the television and we had Mallomars. But all this lazy talk has made me tired and I think I have a few Mallomars left so until the next fart, don't be ashamed of your laziness, embrace it. Or whatever....
I guess you could say my infliction started at birth when they bundled me up in soft sheets and laid me down in that comfortable cradle for the first time and I said to myself "I like this." Then for the first year or so of my life I did nothing. All my needs were taken care of for me. When I was hungry, they fed me. When I needed bathing, they washed me, and when I did my business, well they took care of that too. It was a lifestyle that I grew accustomed to and relished in. Heck I didn't even have to worry about walking anywhere. They would just put me in a nice stroller and push me where ever I wanted to go. Oh those were a lazy mans days. Of course there were obstacles. I remember when they tried to teach me how to walk. I fought that tooth and nail and was able to hold on in my stroller steadfastly until I was seven when I no longer fit in it.
I also remember the first time I sweated. Oh what a horrible day that was. I was playing some sport and stopped and was wondering what the salty discharge on my forehead was and why was it so cumbersome to breath? I did not like that. Plus the next day my muscles were sore and that was something this guy didn't ever want to experience again. So I figured out, I could still enjoy sport from the comfort of my own couch with the bonus of my favorite snack without the uncomfortable feeling of physical activity. Plus, I could exert my superior knowledge of all things sports that I have gained from my many years of watching sporting events on the television, by tweeting random tweets, or post on sport pages why this player, coach or team sucks and what they need to do if they ever want to amount to crap. And if I'm feeling really active I'll pick up a phone and call my local sports radio station and berate those same players/coaches, that have dedicated their entire lives to whatever sport they practice, why they need to catch the first bus out of town because they obviously stink. Thank god for technology, it really helps the lazy to maintain their lifestyle.
But being lazy has come with a hefty price. For one it has hindered me from being famous. Yes, that's right, I should be a famous comedian by now. But I am to lazy to sit down, write jokes, practice those said jokes and then go perform those same jokes. Keeping me from reaching my full comedic potential. That my friends is a tragedy not just for me but the entire world. Could you imagine if Bill Gates was lazy like me? Then you wouldn't be reading this I guess. My lazy obsession even turned it's evil head for this blog entry. I wanted to write this three days ago but there was a Who's The Boss marathon on the television and we had Mallomars. But all this lazy talk has made me tired and I think I have a few Mallomars left so until the next fart, don't be ashamed of your laziness, embrace it. Or whatever....
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Random Thoughts from a Random Day
I thought I would let my blog readers get to know me a little better by sharing some random thoughts that crossed my mind on a wasted day I spent sitting in front of the TV. These are all true thoughts and are in an order that, like my thought processes, really doesn't make much sense. So sit back and enjoy them.
I believe humans increased their intelligence to invent the automobile so we wouldn't ever have to run again. Don't let their work be in vane stop jogging.
I'm pretty sure my SIM is dead. I haven't played SIMS for so long. Does that mean I have a real life now?
I wish sex was as easy to have as they make it out to be on all these TV shows. Then maybe I wouldn't watch TV as much.
Naked vacuuming is not a good look for me.
If Brett Bielema hated what Urban Meyer did he's really going to hate how the rest of the SEC recruits.
Why am I so cheesy? I'm watching cheesy Christmas movies on Lifetime. I have issues with my own cheesyness.
Another wasted day, I'm a slug fish.
That Elf on the Shelf guy seems like a complete asshole. He's always getting into other peoples shit.
Whatever happened to the kid that played Jonathan on Who's The Boss?
All the cool kids wear all black, skinny pants, cooky glasses & big hats.
I wish I was a subject of a Wikipedia page.
I wish I had a pet Narwhal and I would call him Spike, but he probably wouldn't fit in my tub.
And that was a day in my head. Makes you wonder if I smoke to much marijuana? The fact is, I don't smoke any of it. I don't need anything that would increase my laziness or the random thoughts that fog my already full occupied mind. I hope you enjoyed them and maybe answer some of my questions. Until the next fart, I'll leave you with a picture of this butthole.
I believe humans increased their intelligence to invent the automobile so we wouldn't ever have to run again. Don't let their work be in vane stop jogging.
I'm pretty sure my SIM is dead. I haven't played SIMS for so long. Does that mean I have a real life now?
I wish sex was as easy to have as they make it out to be on all these TV shows. Then maybe I wouldn't watch TV as much.
Naked vacuuming is not a good look for me.
If Brett Bielema hated what Urban Meyer did he's really going to hate how the rest of the SEC recruits.
Why am I so cheesy? I'm watching cheesy Christmas movies on Lifetime. I have issues with my own cheesyness.
Another wasted day, I'm a slug fish.
That Elf on the Shelf guy seems like a complete asshole. He's always getting into other peoples shit.
Whatever happened to the kid that played Jonathan on Who's The Boss?
All the cool kids wear all black, skinny pants, cooky glasses & big hats.
I wish I was a subject of a Wikipedia page.
I wish I had a pet Narwhal and I would call him Spike, but he probably wouldn't fit in my tub.
And that was a day in my head. Makes you wonder if I smoke to much marijuana? The fact is, I don't smoke any of it. I don't need anything that would increase my laziness or the random thoughts that fog my already full occupied mind. I hope you enjoyed them and maybe answer some of my questions. Until the next fart, I'll leave you with a picture of this butthole.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Latest Cheers Liquor Mart Tv Commercial
Just wanted to share the latest Tv commercial I did for Cheers Liquor Mart with all of you. It's very festive for the holiday season. I hope you enjoy it and leave plenty of comments! Merry Christmas!
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Alien Abduction Caught On Camera
A few years ago as we were traveling through New Mexico we stopped near the small city of Roswell. Better known for the alleged UFO crash in 1947. And every year the city celebrates that happening with a campy festival celebrating all things alien including a mini marathon called the Alien Chase. It was a very good time and I suggest you should travel there for it if you have the time. http://www.ufofestivalroswell.com/
But amongst this backdrop an event so startling, so chilling occurred that changed me and my thoughts on extraterrestrials forever. This pains me to admit, but I was abducted by an alien. And although the details of that day are cloudy and I am suffering from missed time there is unequivocal proof that extraterrestrials are real and at the bottom of alien abductions around the world. My travel partner at the time was able to snap a few pictures of the horrendous event as I was taken away against my will. But before I show you this world changing photo, I must warn you it is graphic. And it may not be suitable for all. But here we go............
Chilling isn't it? I get terrified every time I see it. I wonder what your thoughts are? Please share this photo and story with friends, loved ones, media and government authorities. The world must know about them. :)
But amongst this backdrop an event so startling, so chilling occurred that changed me and my thoughts on extraterrestrials forever. This pains me to admit, but I was abducted by an alien. And although the details of that day are cloudy and I am suffering from missed time there is unequivocal proof that extraterrestrials are real and at the bottom of alien abductions around the world. My travel partner at the time was able to snap a few pictures of the horrendous event as I was taken away against my will. But before I show you this world changing photo, I must warn you it is graphic. And it may not be suitable for all. But here we go............
Chilling isn't it? I get terrified every time I see it. I wonder what your thoughts are? Please share this photo and story with friends, loved ones, media and government authorities. The world must know about them. :)
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Buckeyes Are Perfect & Tom Brady Cries
I feel solace knowing that right now somewhere
in New England Tom Brady is alone in his ugg boots crying because the
Buckeyes beat Michigan. Then he looks at his 3 rings & flicks his
adonis type hair and forgets about it until next year. But for a few
minutes he did cry. GO BUCKEYES!!
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Because it Still matters.
Because this is my favorite version and this song matters today as it did then.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Love Everybody!
A very good video and message that I felt had to be shared in the blogasphere . Stop believing
what the news is selling. The world isn't completely falling apart. This
video shows that it's not all bad in this world.
If you love this share it. And go to www.loveeverybody.com . Let's take this world back from negativity and despair one good deed at a time.
If you love this share it. And go to www.loveeverybody.com . Let's take this world back from negativity and despair one good deed at a time.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Schroeder The Magnificent, City Builder
Don't let the title fool you. I didn't spend this beautiful day helping building a better society or create harmony in the city I live in. No I did something that
was much harder. I built an entire city with it's zoning, services, and
infrastructure from the ground up. All the while keeping my citizens
happy and employed. I am a demigod. Well at least in Sim City 4. That's
right I wasted the entire day building a make believe city in a make
believe world. How pathetic huh? I said to myself I would only play for
thirty minutes. But as the buildings grew, and my tax revenue raised, I
got caught up in the whole thing. Yes my SIMs need more education, I
built them a school, then a college, and finally a University. Wait my
city needs culture, so I build museums then an art museum, and finally
an opera. My SIMs are now afraid of the crime wave sweeping through this
growing city. I need more police stations and now I need a jail so that
goes in. And so on and so on until 100'000's of new SIM's are flocking to
my utopia city. Then an expansion MLB baseball team wants to come to my
city, I build a stadium for them. Suddenly they are cheering my name and
want to build a giant statue of me in my honor. Of course why not? But let's make
it a focal point of the cities gleaming new center. So I create a square
surrounded by parks and landmarks. Then I build skyscrapers like the CNN tower and the Empire State Building. My city is becoming a metropolis. A shining beacon of hope and progress. And I am the leader of this Capital of
Perfection. I am adored by my SIM's. They name children after me. Paint
masterpieces of me. My birthday is a national holiday celebrated by
them. This must be how Hitler felt. Of course minus all the persecution
of the jews and warmongering. I am great. Call me Schroeder the
Magnificent HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (Evil Laugh)!!! Then suddenly the phone
rings, and I am snapped back to reality and the realization that I just
wasted six hours of my life that I will never get back. I'm not
magnificent, I'm ridiculous
Monday, November 12, 2012
Alien Movie Failed Prototype.
A failed prototype of the Alien from the movie Alien. If the alien looked like this I don't think the film would of been as successful as it was.
Tuesday Night at The Fights and the Skoal Bandit
I was reminded of a funny story from my youth today.Back when doing stupid things were almost a daily occurrence. And this story falls in that category. It was back in 1990 my freshman year and only year spent at the University of Cincinnati. A great but short year. Maybe it was my immaturity, my laziness, my lack of a clear path for my future, or the fact I joined a fraternity. In all likely hood it was a combination of all three things that made the university ask me to please not return for another year. But that year created some very fond memories and this is one.
Like I said I was a member of greek fraternal organization. And like all guys in a fraternity we liked to hang out together, drink beer and mingle with members of the opposite sex. And on this Tuesday night there was one place where guys on a limited budget could do both. It was a place called Mr. K's and every Tuesday night it was nickle beer night. Four dollars could get a whole group feeling pretty good. And the place always seemed to be full of pretty young ladies that were easy to talk to after being properly juiced up. The only problem with Mr. K's is that it had a reputation of being a little rowdy. We affectionately called going there "a night at the fights." The reason for this was because Mr. K's was an eighteen and up bar, but due to the proximity to Kentucky the bar got a lot of young high school rednecks with fake id's that were looking for a rowdy time. And that night was no different, so we always made sure we went there in groups of 5 or more. This tended to keep the chances of an altercation down. This night the group had as a member a guy named JP. JP is a great guy, always boisterous, fun to be around, good looking, and always seemed to have a dip in. People always liked having him around because things were going to be fun when JP walked into the room. That night as the evening got later, the music got louder, and the beer flowed. Our inhibitions seemed to take a back seat and we started to talk to a group of fine Kentucky ladies. They were fun and we were enjoying our time with them. But like in every group there is always that one. The one with a spark, more beautiful than the others. The one all the guys want to impress. And in this group it was a gorgeous brunette. It was no surprise to all of us that she gravitated towards JP and him to her. And soon they were talking and laughing together in the back corner of the bar sharing the same bar stool. As the evening got older they got even closer. Then finally the DJ played a song the girl really loved and she grabbed JP by the hand and led him to the dance floor. They began to sway back and forth getting closer and closer until finally they were one big lump of young hormones quivering on the dance floor. Then they began to kiss passionately, the entire bar saw them because by this time the song was over and they didn't seem to notice. They kept kissing. We other guys were all thinking how lucky JP was making out with the hottest girl in the bar. Maybe we were a bit jealous to but that's how it goes. Then suddenly JP showed up at the table alone with a strange dumbfounded look on his face. We all asked, where was the girl? Why wasn't he with her? He just looked at us and said.
"You are not going to believe this. Everything was going great up until she kissed me. We were out there on the dance floor dancing. Then she grabbed me and started making out with me. Then all of a sudden I felt her tongue go into the front of my lip and she took the dip I had in out with her tongue and now she has it in her lip."
We couldn't believe it. We all started screaming and laughing. We didn't believe him, until we turned around and saw the hot brunette spit out some spit juice into a cup. We could not contain ourselves any more, we all lost it. We started trying to figure out what was her motivation? Did she think it would turn JP on that she could do something so dexterously with her tongue? Or does she just like to dip that much? Either way that was the last Tuesday night that we ever went to at Mr. K's.
Like I said I was a member of greek fraternal organization. And like all guys in a fraternity we liked to hang out together, drink beer and mingle with members of the opposite sex. And on this Tuesday night there was one place where guys on a limited budget could do both. It was a place called Mr. K's and every Tuesday night it was nickle beer night. Four dollars could get a whole group feeling pretty good. And the place always seemed to be full of pretty young ladies that were easy to talk to after being properly juiced up. The only problem with Mr. K's is that it had a reputation of being a little rowdy. We affectionately called going there "a night at the fights." The reason for this was because Mr. K's was an eighteen and up bar, but due to the proximity to Kentucky the bar got a lot of young high school rednecks with fake id's that were looking for a rowdy time. And that night was no different, so we always made sure we went there in groups of 5 or more. This tended to keep the chances of an altercation down. This night the group had as a member a guy named JP. JP is a great guy, always boisterous, fun to be around, good looking, and always seemed to have a dip in. People always liked having him around because things were going to be fun when JP walked into the room. That night as the evening got later, the music got louder, and the beer flowed. Our inhibitions seemed to take a back seat and we started to talk to a group of fine Kentucky ladies. They were fun and we were enjoying our time with them. But like in every group there is always that one. The one with a spark, more beautiful than the others. The one all the guys want to impress. And in this group it was a gorgeous brunette. It was no surprise to all of us that she gravitated towards JP and him to her. And soon they were talking and laughing together in the back corner of the bar sharing the same bar stool. As the evening got older they got even closer. Then finally the DJ played a song the girl really loved and she grabbed JP by the hand and led him to the dance floor. They began to sway back and forth getting closer and closer until finally they were one big lump of young hormones quivering on the dance floor. Then they began to kiss passionately, the entire bar saw them because by this time the song was over and they didn't seem to notice. They kept kissing. We other guys were all thinking how lucky JP was making out with the hottest girl in the bar. Maybe we were a bit jealous to but that's how it goes. Then suddenly JP showed up at the table alone with a strange dumbfounded look on his face. We all asked, where was the girl? Why wasn't he with her? He just looked at us and said.
"You are not going to believe this. Everything was going great up until she kissed me. We were out there on the dance floor dancing. Then she grabbed me and started making out with me. Then all of a sudden I felt her tongue go into the front of my lip and she took the dip I had in out with her tongue and now she has it in her lip."
We couldn't believe it. We all started screaming and laughing. We didn't believe him, until we turned around and saw the hot brunette spit out some spit juice into a cup. We could not contain ourselves any more, we all lost it. We started trying to figure out what was her motivation? Did she think it would turn JP on that she could do something so dexterously with her tongue? Or does she just like to dip that much? Either way that was the last Tuesday night that we ever went to at Mr. K's.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
It's Election Day, Let's Stop the Capital Hill Romper Room
Since it's Election day, I figured this picture of a sculpture from Melissa Getz, AKA Getzilla was appropriate. It's called "Capital Hill Romper Room." So make sure you do your civic duty America and vote today.
P.S. if you want to see more art by Melissa Getz, check her out at these links http://www.bluecanvas.com/getzilla
http://www.mgetzilla.com/
http://community.ovationtv.com/service/displayKickPlace.kickAction?u=2573949&as=16878
P.S. if you want to see more art by Melissa Getz, check her out at these links http://www.bluecanvas.com/getzilla
http://www.mgetzilla.com/
http://community.ovationtv.com/service/displayKickPlace.kickAction?u=2573949&as=16878
John Davidson Takes Over The Columbus Bluejackets
If you read this blog for any amount of time, you will realize that I am a proud Ohio boy through and through. And that I will go off on random rants about the place of my birth and the many loves that I hold true and dear to my heart. The Columbus Bluejackets are one of those true loves. Although, at times, it's been rough and heartbreaking to be a Bluejackets fan, I've never wavered, along with millions of other CBJ fans (Regardless what people think, there really are that many fans, people), in my love and fandom for them. I think the hockey gods have been listening, minus this lockout of course. After years of being the doormat of the NHL, only making the playoffs one time since they joined the league in 2000, the owners have made what I believe will be the biggest impact hiring in the history of the organization. They hired John Davidson as the president of hockey operations on October 24th, 2012. A bona fide proven hockey man that has experience of turning around a struggling team in St. Louis. This hire gives instant credibility to the Bluejackets organization, and instant relief to a fan base in dire need of good news. And I can say for this fan, since the announcement I haven't been able to stop smiling or shimmying. I'm ready to give John Davidson some belly love. And I will the next time I dance at Nationwide Arena on that beautiful new jumbotron, I promise you that. But before then, get your Bluejackets fill by checking out these great video's by the Columbus Bluejackets Youtube page on the day John Davidson took over as President of Hockey Operations.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Drunk Guy on PBR Butchers a Song
I'm in the middle of what I call a social experiment. I am drinking a
12 pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon with a 24 oz chaser of Hamms and filming it for future generations on YouTube. It's a Milwaukee night in my liver, so join the party. But before the final movie is done I decided I would tease my followers with me butchering a Billy Joel song. I hope you enjoy it. If you do you are tone deaf.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Looking Cool as I Fold Panties
There are always situations, people or experiences that firmly keeps you humble and reminds where you stand in the joke that is the great reality tv show called life. Today I had such a moment. I recently started a new job. I will not name the title of the fine establishment due to a confidentiality agreement I signed when I was hired on. But let's just say it's a one stop shopping experience and it's not Walmart ( I believe the antichrist lives there).
As a new hire I've been going through training, and today was the day I
was initiated, as the other guys in the backroom call it. I was assigned
to the intimate apparel section of the store to learn the ins and outs of that department. The guys in the back smiled and started ribbing me about it. Telling me to enjoy my time in braville and don't look anybody in the eye. Maybe it was the fact that I grew up in a house full of women, but I really didn't see what the big deal was actually. I bid the guys adieu and made my way to the intimate apparel section vowing that I will carry on.
When I got to the intimate section I met a group of ladies happily separating ladies privies, unwrapping them and sorting them. I introduced myself and got to work. They told me that most men at the store avoid their section like a plague. I again was surprised. I mean really, I've done a heck of a lot worse than put a few bras away.
I got busy hanging bras up on the different racks. I was astonished at all the different sizes, colors, patterns and varieties there were just to do one job. It's like having different stylish forks to eat the same salad. I'm not complaining mind you, I'm all for you ladies to wrap your lady lumps in anything you want that makes you feel comfortable or saucey. You deserve it. But now as I look at you ladies I'm going to be constantly wondering, is she wearing the pink starburst Hanes push up bra? And my eyes will fixate at that part of your body as I try to figure it out, causing you to think I am some kind of creeper. When in all actuality I just have a case of taking my work home with me. So Don't judge me.
By the time I had moved to the nursing bras, that's a different set of questions all together now, the store had opened and we filled up with customers. This is when the guys told me it would get really bad. I was confused by that logic though. I mean if I was younger and single, like a lot of those guys in the back, I would love to work in this part of the store everyday. I mean what other part of the store will be full of nothing but ladies shopping for there personals and asking you for help. It's a Ron Jeremy dream job. And as I was coming to this realization the first lovely lady asked for my assistance. I put on my suave voice and said, "Can I help you?" She asked me, "Yes do you know where I can find the matching panties that go with this bra?" "Sure would you like to follow me?" As I began to lead her to the panties I began to hear in my mind, bow chica wow wow. And I felt the only thing that would make this scene any better is if I had a cheesy moustache, a buttoned down silk shirt and cognac in one hand. I felt like the porn pied piper. I was cool. After I helped her the ladies kept coming with questions and Rico Suave Schroeder kept helping them. I felt these other guys are morons, I'm going to work in this section everyday.
After lunch I returned to the intimates (As I will call them from now on followed by a wink and blow on a finger pistol before I shoot you with it.). We moved on to stocking the panty part of the floor. This is when most men would blush i guess, but not Rico Suave Schroeder. I embraced the shame. The lady told me to work a row of bins. I looked at them and said "Why is the silly string in the intimates, shouldn't it be in toys?" She said "No, those are thongs." Really, are you serious? Why even bother forking over $10 for something when all you have to do is get a cheap spool of yarn and cut a little off each day and wrap it around you. What does this stuff even cover? Because it sure doesn't cover modesty. But I didn't falter. I filled the silly string thong bin up with more silly string thongs and moved on. The next bin was filled with eye patches. Or as the lady called them modest thongs. As I was filling the bin contemplating how many pirate eyes this bin could cover it happened. A small boy, about 5 or 6, say's to his mom. "Why is that creepy old man playing with ladies under thingys?" I looked up and we locked eyes. That's when I remembered the guys earlier in the day saying "Whatever you do, don't look anybody in the eye." As I stared at this little boy with an awkward look holding a red thong like Jerry Sandusky being caught in the showers. His mother gasped and grabbed the boy off the floor and hurried him, by that I mean ran, out of the intimates leaving the shame to embrace me.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Special Delivery: Confidence
I had quite an interesting experience today. One that kind of surprised me, and put a smile on my face when it really kind of needed it. Now, I don't want you to think I am some kind of egotistical butthead that needs to have his ego stroked and relishes in being the center of the universes attention. Although I am a bit of a media whore and maybe do kinda sometimes like being the center of an, I don't know, atom, but who doesn't right? I mean it's nice to be the Kim Kardashian at the party, the least talented in the room but everybody still wants your picture. Makes the rest of your dreary day and pathetic life bearable. But I digress. Let's get back to the events of this day that made it The Daily Fart Blog worthy. I was leaving my house as our nice Asian (That really has no bearing on the story, just trying to paint a picture. Make you think he was about to say something very Confucius like in that stereotypical way that we other races, for some weird reason, portray them to sound like as we squint our eyes stupidly.) postman was walking through the gate with our mail. I greeted him with a hello and he likewise. Than he stopped looked at me and asked, "Are the rumors true?"
"What rumors?" I asked.
"That the shirtless dancing guy from the Cheers Liquor Mart Tv commercials lives at this address?"
I told him, "Yes, that's me."
He looked at me with a grin and began going off, "I knew that was you, I just knew it. I can't believe it. I love those commercials. You got to put it here man." As we fist bumped he continued. "People have told me that at this address that the Cheers Guy lived here but i didn't believe them. Wait until I tell people that I delivered mail to the Cheers guy."
I smiled and said " I'm sure they won't care. It's not that big of a deal"
He was like "No man, we all talk about your commercials down at the station. We love you. I got to tell my friend Eric, you know the tall black guy that sometimes delivers your mail, that the rumor is true. He absolutely loves you."
I said "sure and thanks I really appreciate it."
"No problem man, thank you. I'm glad I got to meet you man. Keep doing what you're doing" And he walked off.
As he walked off I thought, wow I touched him. I really made a difference to him and his friends. I influenced them. Grant it, it was where they should buy their alcoholic beverages. But it made them smile and feel good for the 30 or so seconds as my shirtless body was shaking and shimmying on their tv scenes. And if that made them forget the crappy boring inertia of their daily lives than that is something isn't it?
"What rumors?" I asked.
"That the shirtless dancing guy from the Cheers Liquor Mart Tv commercials lives at this address?"
I told him, "Yes, that's me."
He looked at me with a grin and began going off, "I knew that was you, I just knew it. I can't believe it. I love those commercials. You got to put it here man." As we fist bumped he continued. "People have told me that at this address that the Cheers Guy lived here but i didn't believe them. Wait until I tell people that I delivered mail to the Cheers guy."
I smiled and said " I'm sure they won't care. It's not that big of a deal"
He was like "No man, we all talk about your commercials down at the station. We love you. I got to tell my friend Eric, you know the tall black guy that sometimes delivers your mail, that the rumor is true. He absolutely loves you."
I said "sure and thanks I really appreciate it."
"No problem man, thank you. I'm glad I got to meet you man. Keep doing what you're doing" And he walked off.
As he walked off I thought, wow I touched him. I really made a difference to him and his friends. I influenced them. Grant it, it was where they should buy their alcoholic beverages. But it made them smile and feel good for the 30 or so seconds as my shirtless body was shaking and shimmying on their tv scenes. And if that made them forget the crappy boring inertia of their daily lives than that is something isn't it?
The First Fart and I'm Claiming It!
Today is a historic day my friends. For today an epic blog has been created and unleashed on the masses. A blog to be inhaled and enjoyed. A blog so profound that you can taste it... Of course, it will probably not be this particular blog, created by this rather simple, mundane individual. But I promise you, this blog will separate itself from the millions of others that infiltrate this ever expanding internet that Al Gore graciously invented, with bad spelling, horrific grammar, and a complete butchery of the English language. But along with that I will share stories, tidbits, and puns that, perhaps, I only find entertaining in the vast space that occupies my inner cranium. Maybe I'll share a video or an image of a kitty that I find amusing. Or perhaps a ramble or rant on politics, social commentary, or on the bad fish I had at the local Long John Silver. Who knows? I don't know where this blog is going to go, but isn't that the fun part? I hope you find it entertaining and help me figure this whole thing out with comments, suggestions, and beer. I will always listen, especially with an adult beverage. So, sit back enjoy the sarcasm and the ride. Until the next time I will leave you with this quote from a very smart man.
A happy fart never comes from a miserable ass- Martin Luther
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