Please note that I do not allow anonymous comments unless you inform me who you are. I am continuing to allow you to choose the option of anonymous or "Name/URL" so my family and friends with no log-in can leave me comments. If you choose not to be known to the public when you leave a comment, that is fine, but if you don't email me or let me know it was you, it will not be posted.

Welcome Back to 1965

I like it. I think it would be a simpler and better time if it were 1965 instead of 2009. I think I have about as much money now as I would have in 1965, but I'd be rich as hell in that case. Yeah.

That's Mrs. Bitch to You!

We're Married!

It went amazingly well. Everything was perfect. Even if there probably was some spit in my cake...


I ordered this cake:

With the top two layers. As in, from the line UP. As in, with FUCKING COLUMNS.

I got this cake:


They have until 5PM.

UPDATE: It was ready at 3.

[Insert Expletive Here]

I am fucking over this wedding. I definitely am wishing for the courthouse right about now. I'm just fucking sick of this shit, and we'll be lucky if we make it through it. Just damn.

You've Got to be Kidding: Firing English Speaking FFs

Someone sent this to me in an email. I don't know if it is legitimate, but I'll be damned if it is. This is unfuckingbelievable. Why did they hire them in the first place?! I'm sure there are plenty of English speaking firefighters out of work right now that would love the job. You don't hire someone when you have to fire someone else for it. This is a fucking outrage. Call your congressmen.

Dear Penis, Titties and Beer, & Show Them to Me

The other day, I told you about my new favoritest song EVER.

Well, I heard this song, and I thought it might be my new favoritest song EVER.

But, then, I heard this song, and it is most definitely my new most favoritest song EVER EVER!

But, then, I'll be damned if I didn't hear this song, and it is now most definitely my new most favoritest song EVER EVER EVER!

Why I Fucking Hate Teachers

I got this in an email:

The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued, "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?" He reminded the other dinner guests what they say about teachers: "Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach." To stress his point he said to another guest; "You're a teacher, Bonnie. Be honest... what do you make?"

Bonnie, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied, "You want to know what I make?" (She paused for a second, then began...) "Well, I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could. I make a C+ feel like a Medal of Honour. I make kids sit through 40 minutes of class time when their parents can't make them sit for 5 without an I Pod, Game Cube or movie rental. You want to know what I make?" (She paused again and looked at each and every person at the table.) ''I make kids wonder.. I make them question.. I make them apologize and mean it. I make them have respect and take responsibility for their actions. I teach them to write and then I make them write... keyboarding isn't everything. I make them read, read, read. I make them show all their work in math. They use their God given brain, not the man-made calculator. I make my students from other countries learn everything they need to know in English while preserving their unique cultural identity. I make my classroom a place where all my students feel safe. I make my students stand and sing O Canada every morning, because we live in this great country called Canada . Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts they were given, work hard, and follow their hearts, they can succeed in life." (Bonnie paused one last time and then continued.) "Then, when people try to judge me by what I make, with me knowing money isn't everything, I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because they are ignorant.............You want to know what I make? I MAKE A DIFFERENCE. What do you make Mr. CEO?"

His jaw dropped, he went silent.

That CEO must be a flaming retard. CEO's make a difference--at least I know a good bit that do. And, I have never had a teacher that did any of those things (must be because I'm not in the holy land of Canada). Honestly. I am substituting right now, and anyone stupid enough to be a teacher is beyond me. I still live by the motto of those that can do and those that can't teach. Hell, those that can't teach administrate. I may sound like a hypocrite right now, since I'm sort of teaching, but I would never do this for real. It's a fucking joke. And, just so you know, teachers make a whole hell of a lot more money than they like to let on. Hell, with a couple years experience and a master's, they make more than I would as an Engineer. So, to all the asshole teachers out there, here's a big FUCK YOU.

The end.

You've Got to be Kidding: James Otto is a Tit Man

So, I thought I was a fan of James Otto, but I may not be now.

This past Friday, a friend of mine (well, he's Travis' friend, but he's cool) went to see James Otto at Cowboys in Kennesaw. He was with some chick he's banging, and she wanted Otto's autograph. She went up to him to ask him to sign her ticket stub, and he was like, "Yeah, well, I sigh other stuff, too."

To which she is like, "Uh, do you mean my boobs?"

And, he's all like "Uh, yeah. Let me see 'em."

And, she's all like, "Uh, no. I'm not letting you see my tits."

Jesus. Doesn't that asshole know it is Easter?

Happy Easter

Hoppy Easter!

Miss Plan Maker Breaker

You have that friend. The one who ALWAYS says "Oh, we should get together! I haven't seen you in forever!" And, you make tentative plans, and you never hear from her. And, you don't bother calling because the last six times you called in this situation, she just ignored your call and never called back. Yes, she is Miss Plan Maker Breaker. She makes plans for the sake of making plans but never fully commits. That way, she never really breaks plans, but she never really meets you either. I have a "friend" like this. I say that because we know she isn't really your friend if you don't see her for two years, and she ignores your calls.

I love Facebook. Not. I got a message on Facebook from said "friend" about my impending doom wedding. She said we should get together for lunch some weekend soon. And, I'm like, sure, why not. I mean, I never had a problem with you. You just dropped me like a bad habit once I set you up with my boyfriend's best friend and my boyfriend and I broke up. Yeah, so much for being appreciative of my matchmaking skills. Anywho, I digress. So, I tell her to give me her address so I can send a wedding and bachelorette party invitation. I just got her response card back. She is now suddenly out of town that weekend. Not to mention that we still haven't had lunch, and I haven't talked to her since that day.

Yeah. Great friend that Miss Plan Maker Breaker.

Bitch, You Do Not Ride Wit Me

Bitch, you ride the Marta bus.

My new favoritest song EVER.

"Uh, You Don't Know Who I Am?"

So, I have this article here that someone sent to me out of pure meanness because he knew it would force me to write a blog post because I loathe a certain Georgia quarterback. Uh hem.

Anywho, the article is here. It states that the 49ers don't want Stafford because he won't open up to a shrink. It says they want him to talk about his parents' divorce. I don't really care about that. What I get from this article is that the son of a bitch is so goddamned arrogant, he thinks he can get on any team he wants any way he wants. And the 49ers just said, nah uh--their way or the highway. Somebody better have his walking shoes on. I, for one, am very pleased by this. Why?

Well, let's recap my history with said quarterback genius (cough), Matthew Stafford:

I'm signing people in at a fraternity (who shall remain nameless) party because they have some stupid rules about underage drinking and stuff. A kid walks up to me, and the following is the conversation that takes place:

Me: "ID please."
Stupid Freshman: "Uh, what?"
Me: "I. Need. To. See. Your. ID."
Stupid Freshman: "Ha. You don't know who I am?"
Me: "Ha. No, I don't, and I don't really give a damn either."
Stupid Freshman: "Uh, Matthew."
Me: "Uh, Matthew, I need your ID."
Stupid Freshman: "Uh, Stafford."
Me: "Uh, Stafford, I need your ID."
Stupid Freshman: "I'm Matthew Stafford." (Long pause.) "The quarterback."
Me: "And, I'm Jesus. Now, give me your ID."

You get the point. I didn't give two shits that the kid knew how to throw a football. He's arrogant, and he's an ass, and that loses games. He lost games for Georgia because of the big head. He will lose them in the NFL because of the big head. Someone needs to bust his little bubble.