Monthly archives for August, 2005

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

I am such an ass

As everyone not in a coma realizes, hurricane Katrina just beat the stuffings out of the gulf coast. I've been distracted by a few other things, so frankly I haven't been paying any attention to the news. I haven't been catching any of the details.

Major hurricanes are a yearly occurrence. Coverage is pretty much always the same. I wasn't watching. I didn't see. And I made a joke out of it. Starting last night and ending a few hours ago, my blog title was "Katrina Tossed My Salad - I mean really tossed it. It's spread out all over my neighbor's lawn."

And then I read an ABC News article. I got as far as the line that read "hundreds, if not thousands, of people may still be stuck on roofs and in attics, and so rescue boats were bypassing the dead."

The city of New Orleans is underwater. Half a million people are homeless. Even the shelters are being evacuated. Corpses are floating in the streets. And I made a joke of it.

I'm ashamed of myself. And I'm so very sorry.

Why my boss is better than yours, reason #1

So I just got back from vacation, right? I slept later than I wanted on Monday morning, so I didn't get a chance to run an important errand before work. So I said, "Pointy Bearded Boss, can I take a long lunch to go do this thing?" He said yes without a moment's hesitation.

So I took my long lunch and tried to get the errand taken care of. Didn't work out for me. I needed to stop by the county courthouse and get a replacement birth certificate for The Kid. Apparently the school district must verify that he was, in fact, born before he can enter kindergarten.

But there's a problem. I am The Kid's father, and Girlfriend is his mother. But Girlfriend and I are not married (otherwise she'd be Wife, now wouldn't she?) The law requires extra paperwork for my name to appear on The Kid's birth certificate. Since my name isn't currently on the certificate, I can't get copies.

Rats. I wasted my long lunch for nothing. "Umm, Pointy Bearded Boss? Can I get a little time out this afternoon to get Girlfriend to the courthouse?" Again he immediately said yes.

So I took Girlfriend to the courthouse, paid our fee, and got our copies. But there's more.

"Umm, Pointy Bearded Boss, I know I'm a complete pain, and I know I just finished vacation, but can I get a few hours out on Tuesday? It's The Kid's kindergarten orientation and I really want to be there for that." Again, no hesitation.

How cool is that? This is only my second day back and he's ok with me missing four hours of work. And here's the kicker… I make an hourly wage and he pays me like I'm salary. He pays me for all this time I miss.

I told you. My boss is way better than yours.

Monday, August 29, 2005

The Legend of Fat Indian Bitch, part 15

Being a completely fictional alternate ending, graciously provided by Marriedman.

The next day I felt astonishingly depressed. I couldn't put my finger on why, but something was definitely wrong. As the day moved on I felt myself getting more and more upset. What was this? Why was I feeling this way? Finally at around eight I decided that I'd had enough of this. No matter what was going on, it wasn't ok for me to feel like this. So I did the first thing that came naturally to me. I went into my room, shut my door, and pulled out my fishiecock. I started to play with it when I had a sudden urge to see some naked ass. I put my fishiebird back in my pants and hopped in my Escort (yes, I drive a Ford). I knew where I wanted to go, but I also knew that I needed some cash. So I stopped by the 7-11 to use their ATM and buy a slurpee. After I got my cash, I went by the magazine rack. I usually do this to see if there are any new porn mags out. I scanned the rack and noticed a newer magazine, I picked it up and when I saw what it was I immediately ejaculated all over the magazine. There was a hole in my trousers where the burst took place, and the entire convenience store was staring at me. I of course, had to pay for the magazine, since I had creamed all over it. It was quite embarrassing purchasing the premier edition of "Pokemyhontas," the new Native American Porn magazine.

After I made my purchase, I jumped into my Escort and peeled out of the parking lot. I needed to think, I needed to figure out what just happened. It couldn't be. I know that I have no attraction to her. I decided that going to the strip club was definitely what I needed.

I enjoy the winter for numerous reasons, one being that I like snow, a lot. The second being that I enjoy the "Strippers on Ice" show that the strip club puts on during the holiday season. (I actually like winter for three reasons, but I didn't know if you all would like the fact that I fist polar bears for fun.)

Three hours later, the strippers were hot and I was drunk. It was a good night, and it was serving its purpose. I hadn't thought about FIB all night. I mean, I don't really care that she doesn't like me. I just care because I am sensitive like that. But after a few more drinks, the only thing I would remember was how nice that naked ass looked shaking in front of me, as the stripper did a triple axel and made my heart do a double sachow.

Morning. I woke up with a pounding headache. Sweet Fancy Moses my head hurt. And I was on the couch. At least I'm at home, but why the hell am I on the couch? I guess it's a good thing that FIB doesn't live here anymore. She would have totally taken advantage of me. I got up to wash my face and make myself a cup of coffee when I tripped over something. An ice skate? Nice, I must have had me some anus last night. At that exact moment, the bathroom door opened and out came LR in a towel. He must have taken a shower because his hair was drenched.

(Intermission)

Meanwhile in New York, marriedman was in his element. The young lady (his prey) was lying spread eagle on the table. He was standing over her, nude, in all his glory.

"Your mullet, it's… it's… so amazing!" she exclaimed.
"Are you ready for me to lay my pipe?" marriedman asked her.
"Oh, yes!" she shouted back in anticipation.
"Where shall I lay it?" he queried.
"In between my boobs," she stated.
"Your profile boobs are exquisite, I believe that is exactly what I'll do," he decided.
"Say my name, marriedman, say it!"
"Are you sure? We are in a strange place," he replied.
"Yes, I don't care where. Say Jazz, even in strange places."

The next few seconds were filled with ecstasy, and then it was over.

"I'll always look back, and remember the time that marriedman ran it through me at the morgue."

(End of Intermission)

"Hey man, did you see me come in last night?" I asked him.
"Yeah, it was pretty late Maurice," he replied.
"Did you see anyone else come in with me?"
"Nope, there is nobody here but you and me."
"Hmmmm."
He came and sat down on the couch next to me. This was odd; he had never done that before. I could see his weenis. Just then I noticed something sparkly on around his nipple.
"What is that?" I asked.
"What?"
"That right there on your nipple, it almost looks like a… a… a pasty."
"It is a pasty, I thought I took it off before I got in the shower."
I was confused. The strippers last night were wearing pasties just like that.
"You don't remember do you?" he shouted, sounding angrier than I had ever heard him.
"Remember what?" I shouted back.
"I knew you wouldn't, I had to wait until you came home drunk before you'd let me pack your fudge."
What is he talking about?
"I've wanted you for so long, Maurice. You never realized it, did you? You never figured it out! I paid my half-sister to stalk you. I needed to know where you were. Plus if you got too upset, maybe you'd come to me for support. I love Maurice. And I loved you on my own. But last night, I followed you to the strip club. That was when I realized, you were gay. So I shot a stripper named Lorenzo and stole his pasties and skates. It was me you went home with last night. And damn it you toss some amazing salad."

I just sat there, next to him on the couch. Staring at him. Before I could even think about what I was going to say I had already started to say it.

"Why didn't you tell me, Kip? I only moved in with you to get closer to you. But your damn sister took up so much of my time, I could barley concentrate on our relationship. I even bought a Native American porn magazine last night hoping that one of those hot naked Indians would remind me of you. I love you. And since I don't remember giving you head last night, I'll give you an encore."

THE END?

[Ed. note: Dear god, please let this be the end.]

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Cartoon Friday (on Sunday, a twofer edition)

Cartoon friday
Image credit: Scott Stantis, The Birmingham News

Cartoon friday
Image credit: David Horsey, Seattle Post-Intelligencer

The Legend of Fat Indian Bitch, part 14

Being a completely fictional ending subtitled "Revenge of The Sith," graciously provided by Lab Boy.

As I opened my door into the living room, I saw FIB and Lazy Roomie having some sort of a discussion. "I LOVE HIM!" She screamed. LR looked pissed. He reached out his arm toward FIB, making a gesture as if choking her from afar. FIB reached up and held her throat.

"Let her go, Roomie!" I ordered him.

"If she is not with me… she is against me," he told me. His eyes were yellow with rage. I knew a fight was about to come on. I took off my bathrobe to reveal my Jedi tunic. With a swift motion of his arm, LR threw FIB into the wall. She fell, passed out.

"You truly ARE Sith, Roomie… Only a Sith deals in absolutes." I drew my light saber, and he drew his. The power arcs, mine green, his blue, lit up the room. We went at it.

Lazy-eyed Nottie ran out of the kitchen to tend to FIB as Roomie and I dueled to the death. "Why are you doing this?" I asked as our sabers kept clashing, the classic hum filling the air.

"I told her to stay away because you're evil!"

"I appreciate the gesture," I replied, "but I'm not evil… You are."

"From my point of view a guy who beats a woman with a bat is evil." We kept going at it. Lazy-Eyed Nottie pulled FIB into my room. Stuff all over the place was getting split in halves with laser precision.

"It was a fucking PLASTIC bat, for fuck's sake! And she WAS sleeping in my bed!"

"And still, she loved you more than she loved me! For that she will die…" I was stunned. Here was the guy who, for all intents and purposes, was like my brother, wanting to kill me and FIB because of her unrequited love for me.

"Then I truly have failed you, Roomie." We kept going at it, but whatever LEN had been cooking in the kitchen caught on fire. The whole place was filling up with smoke and the flames were coming at us. We jumped on the couches and all over the place, striking with our light sabers in an attempt to kill or maim.

Suddenly, Roomie slipped and fell on the ground. I jumped on the table. "Don't try it, Roomie… I have the higher ground." He tried it. As he jumped toward me, with a move I still cannot comprehend, mostly out of instinct rather than thinking, feeling the Force flow through me, I used my light saber to cut off his arms and legs. He fell behind me, close to the fire. His light saber fell at my feet. "What have you done? You were my brother!" The fire came closer to him, and he was unable to move.

"I HATE YOU!" He screamed in a blinded rage. "I HATE YOU!" I picked up his light saber and ran to the room. LEN and FIB were hiding. FIB was in bad shape. We crawled out the window and out of that hell. FIB and I cried as the whole place collapsed, surely killing Darth Roomie… Or so we thought.

********************

FIB died of sadness a while later, at the hospital. But not before delivering a set of twins. She wasn't fat… She was pregnant. And she kept her pregnancy secret because the children were that monster's. And it was the fact that they were inbred children that made those twins so dangerous. The number of midichlorians in their blood would be doubled. The Force was strong in them. They had to be hidden as word came to me that Roomie had been rescued by the town Mayor, his trusted mentor.

Tonight I walk into the town hall to complete the circle, my dear friends. Either Darth Roomie, who is more machine than man, will die or I will. I know what happens next…

I'm happy Corkey, even with his extra chromosome for being the son of siblings, will fulfill the prophecy and bring balance to the Force. That is why this is my last entry. You cannot come with me anymore. When I last saw him, he was but the learner… Now, he'll be my executioner.

THE END?

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

The Legend of Fat Indian Bitch, part 13

Being a completely fictional continuation of part 9, graciously provided by Motherdear.

It was several years later that I happened to be shopping at the local Sam's Club with my family, and I saw a lovely, lissome creature half an aisle away. She had long dark hair and gorgeous legs. Something about her looked vaguely familiar, perhaps the way she moved, the way she shook her head…

I stared at her back, for probably a minute or two, trying to remember where I had seen her before. Then she turned around with her carriage, coming back down the aisle toward me. Her face, so strange, yet so familiar…

…and as she neared me, I realized it was the Fat Indian Bitch. No longer fat. Still Indian, possibly still a bitch… but sincerely, no longer fat.

We made brief eye contact and she recognized me immediately.

She stopped, a look of terror momentarily passing over her face, but it evaporated quickly when I grinned at her. She relaxed, and grinned back. It lit up her features, which in the glaring fluorescent light of Sam's Club, was almost pretty.

My wife caught me making meaningful eye contact with her, and nudged me sharply in the ribs. I quickly looked at the wife, and said "Honey, this is an old friend…" and introduced them.

My wife stood by while we talked. She explained that she was now married, and had just found out that she was going to have her first child. Her face glowed with the news. My wife and she locked eyes, and a gentle understanding passed between them. The wife relaxed, realizing she had nothing to fear from this stranger's history with me.

We exchanged pleasantries, caught up for a few minutes, and then, she said suddenly,

"I have to thank you for something."

"For what do you need to thank me?" I asked, honestly dumbfounded. I didn't think our history held anything even remotely suggesting either of us be grateful to the other…

"I was young, stupid, confused. I was crazy about you. And you never took advantage of me, and you could have," she said.

"I, uh, didn't think that would be fair to you… and I really didn't want to take advantage of you." I replied.

"Oh, I know that now, you made it plain at the end that being with me was something as desirable as having your head taken off with a rusty chain saw, and you were never dishonest with me, never led me on. But I really didn't want to see that then, and really needed the fantasy that I could make you grow to love me. But you knew that, and you still never took advantage of me. It must have been extremely uncomfortable for you, but you never made me pay for it."

I was floored. The wife had a look of 'I'm the cat who ate the canary' on her face.

I stammered, "Well, your brother was my friend, we were roomies, and it just wouldn't have been right. You were a nice person, just young, and it wasn't right."

She continued "Oh, don't justify it. Every girl needs her knight in shining armor. If you had taken me, and I would have let you, you know - well, you would have been just the first in a long line of men who hurt me and used me. Instead, you were the one who preserved my honor, my dignity. You are the one who was kind enough to be cruel. It took me awhile to understand it, but I finally got the message. I was worth more than that. You gave me a great gift, one I will always be grateful for. And that makes you my knight in shining armor - you're the guy who refused to sweep me off my feet."

Again, I was speechless. I looked into her big, dark eyes, and saw a genuine warmth. And at that moment, she was the loveliest creature I had ever seen.

We parted after she gave both my wife and I a gentle hug. We continued shopping.

As I laid in bed that night, all I could think of was 'what would have been' if I had given her what she wanted at 18, because it would have been easier than to fight her off. I guess my mind ran away with me for awhile, because I fell asleep thinking of her in my room, that last night, listening to music and just hanging out.

When I woke the next morning, my wife served me muffins and coffee in bed, then screwed my socks off. I asked her why, later, when basking in the afterglow. Her response was just a wistful grin, before she got up to shower again and dress.

I walked a little taller that day. I was proud of the Fat Indian Bitch, now an almost-beautiful, slim, mom-to-be, at peace with herself. I was proud of my wife for not getting all territorial and possessive on me when we talked to the Fat Indian Bitch in the aisles of Sam's Club.

But most of all, I was proud of me. Yes, really proud, and at peace. Like she said… sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind.

THE END?

Sunday, August 21, 2005

The Legend of Fat Indian Bitch, part 12

Being the part in which Fat Indian Bitch finally gets laid, and also in which we conclude our story. (A completely fictional alternate ending graciously provided by Esmerelda The Incestuous Salad Tosser.)

Enough was enough. Every day I would come home and cringe right before I walked in the front door. This girl - this poor, pathetic, sad excuse for a female was wrecking my mind. She stressed me out and made me a stranger in my own home. Isn't home where one is supposed to look forward to retiring for the evening? Right now it became a death camp. I hated going home. I hated facing this fucking situation I had to deal with every day. I hated thinking that one day I was going to walk in my room to find her again.

Interestingly enough Fat Indian Bitch started leaving me alone. She wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed but she sure as hell got the idea when I kicked her out of my room the second time. She did nothing but grin and glance at me from time to time in the late afternoons when I would get up to eat and shower before I got ready for work. She stopped following me. She stopped stalking me completely. She actually became pretty cool.

I should have known it was my fatal mistake to think she could even be remotely normal. Poor girl. In all honesty I felt sorry for her. She was a teenage girl suffering from severe rejection. All she wanted was love and affection. Thank God she had her friend Lazy-Eyed Nottie to keep her company. I'm scared to even think what would have happened if she wasn't around.

But I digress. Things around the house were doing well. We all started hanging out together on a regular basis on the week days. I even brought my date over sometimes to spend an evening or two. I was really into this girl and she was into me. And surprisingly FIB took it well. She was finally growing up. She spent most of her time with Lazy Roomie and LEN - going out to movies and fast food places. Playing Nintendo and whatever else they were into. I was finally enjoying my living arrangements.

A few months had come and gone. Things were finally as they should be. I was at peace and the chick I was dating was amazing. We got along great. She was funny, smart, beautiful, easy. Everything I was looking for at the time. I even got a promotion at work. Floor Manager - sounds impressive huh? Yeah, I was going places. Anyway, one afternoon I was getting ready for work and I heard a knock on my door.

"Yeah?"

"Hey - can I talk to you for a second?" It was FIB.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Well I just wanted you to know that…" BEEP BEEP… BEEP BEEP

"Oh shit. My girl's calling. I gotta get to work too. We'll talk later ok?"

"Sure. I guess."

"Hey baby! How's it going?" I say into the phone as I grab my work shirt and head out the door. Not thinking anything of what FIB had to tell me. She probably wanted to tell me that she borrowed a CD of mine or something. Whatever.

As I was driving along to work I was reaching for my smokes in my pocket and realized I didn't have my wallet.

"FUCK!" I yelled out to myself. Damn it I hate it when I do this. I had to completely turn around. Damn. Shit. Hell. I just got a promotion and I was going to be late for work. Did I really need my wallet? Yeah. I did. I wanted to go to the bar after work and I needed my ID. Stupid stupid stupid me.

I jumped out of the car, left it running and ran into the house…

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" FIB screamed a gut wrenching horrible scream.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" I let out a louder one once I saw what was happening. There they were. FIB and Lazy Roomie. Fucking on the couch in the living room.

"HOLY FUCKING CHRIST!!!!" I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe. I grabbed the first thing I could which first was the football LR and I used to throw together and nailed the both of them… shortly after I ran into my room I grabbed my fuzzy baseball bat and started beating them blind.

"What… The FUCK… ARE… You… DOING?!?!?!" Each word separated by a nasty whack of my bat. The two of them scurried around like fat, disgusting, paranoid cockroaches. This was by far the most repulsive thing I had ever experienced in my life.

"Hey Dig. Don't worry buddy… seriously it's not what you think!!" LR tried to tell me.

"NOT what I THINK?! You are fucking your ugly SISTER you FUCK!"

"No no! We were just…"

"FUCKING on our COUCH…" I grabbed my wallet and left. I slammed the door behind me and stormed to my car. I was living with a bunch of freaks. I couldn't believe it. I was speeding down the road. Going 50mph in a 25. I was a fucking mess. Three kilometers down the road I had to stop the car. I hurled my insides out. I couldn't deal. I couldn't go back to that incestuous hell hole I had once called home. Ever. Is THAT what FIB wanted to tell me earlier when she came into my room? Ugh. Disgraceful. I was through. I had LR FedEx me my belongings once I moved back home with my parents.

Sadly I lost a friend in the whole mess. He was cool. Once. Now I'm living a completely different life. One filled with happiness, safe sex and love. I'm a happy father to a wonderful son and my girlfriend treats me right. I can't help but look back on the situations that occurred with Fat Indian Bitch, Lazy Incestuous Roomie, and Lazy-Eyed Nottie. To tell you the truth I think of them sometimes. And then remind myself that I could give a flying fuck.

THE END?

Friday, August 19, 2005

This is no longer a vacation. It's a quest!

In the hopes of stifling my blood lust for another year, every summer the boss lets me out of my cage for a week or so. This year that week begins now. Vacation time for me! Doo-dah, doo-dah.

For the next nine days, I'll mostly be away. I'll probably be able to sneak in some time here and there to post more submitted FIB stories and maybe respond to a few comments. Our regular tomfoolery will return on August 29th.

And tell her I sent you

At lunch time today, my sister Sister stopped by my office. She usually stops by for lunch once or twice a week. Today was the first time Keeks came along. A few minutes after they arrived, Keeks asked for advice.

See, last night she was at a guy friend's house and had quite a bit to drink. This morning she woke up hung over, naked, in guy friend's bed with guy friend, covered in blood, and no memory of how she got there.

"So, Fish… how should I handle this?" she said. I was too busy snickering and teasing her to actually give advice, so I thought maybe you, my all-knowing readers, could help her out a bit.

Got any suggestions? Let her know. Or maybe just tease her like I did.

Cartoon Friday

Cartoon friday
Image Credit: Mike Thompson, Detroit Free Press