Sunday, December 16, 2012

The Cycle

Jesus Christ, it's been so long since I have actually had the time, energy, and ambition to write ANYTHING!  My GOD, how I miss it!!!  >_<  I really need to win the lottery so I can do this shit full time!  For.  Real.

Or... I need to sell more of my books. and other links are in the sidebar for physical copies as well as eReader versions.  Jusayin'.  ^_-

The Cycle 12-16-12

Meet me, love me, take me, claim me,
hold me, kiss me, suck me, fuck me,
leave me, fail me, harm me, maim me,
dis me, curse me, dump me, chuck me,

tempt me, blind me, beg me, shame me,
use me, drain me, bleed me, fool me,
burn me, smoke me, torch me, flame me,
blow me, jilt me, quit me, fuel me.

I rise, I start, I love, I care,
I am, I'm me, I strive, I feel,
I walk, I move, I go, I bear,
I take, I give, I hurt... I'll heal...

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Contrite Respite

Contrite Respite 12-04-12

Serenity and peace be with me, tonight 
The sweet surrender 'till morning light
Silence my mind in groggy twilight

The half-awake that grips me with fright
The limbo dreams that fuel my plight
The linger that holds with deadly might

Causing my body to tense so tight
Pleas; my last resort in faded night
For I have not the will to continue the fight


Monday, September 17, 2012

The Final Hit: Weeds Series Finale

Okay, this is my own personal take on the Weeds series finale, so if you have not seen it and wish to remain spoiler free, please do not continue reading...

First of all, I have to call bullshit on this entire fucking final season.  This was all too rushed, tied up in a pretty bow, sent off with a phony grin, and delivered via satisfactory mail, postage paid with a whimper, which arrived all crumpled up and crushed to death.  I kind of liked where it was going in the beginning as I unpacked it while flinging Styrofoam peanuts and bubble wrap everywhere, but where it ended up, which was butt fuck Egypt, was not where I would have liked to see the final destination.  I feel like I have been slapped in the face and told "Here!  This is what you wanted!  One last season.  Enjoy, you greedy mother fucker!"  SO much left unanswered, so much ignored, so much more skipped over and filled in with 'happy endings'.

Weeds is not about 'happy endings'.

I have two views on this.

My first view: Make a movie.  Give us one big last hurrah.  One more huge issue to overcome.  One last 'big bad'.  One more final heroic triumph for Nancy and the Botwins to show us that they mean business and they are NOT going to take shit from ANYONE.  Don't skip over the battles.  The battles are what kept us coming back each week!  Every episode prior to this last dying specimen left us thinking "Holy shit!  What the fuck is going to happen next week?  HOW are they going to get out of THIS mess?"  This final season left us thinking "Holy shit!  She survived a bullet to the fucking head?  How will this affect her daily life?  Will she walk?  Is the bullet really moving?  What the fuck happened to Celia?!  Will Nancy ever get goat's milk?"  Bo-ring.  Then, on the SERIES finale, you flash forward us into the fucking FUTURE, with paper-thin iPhone wannabes, people-less dry cleaners that malfunction, facial hair on everyone, legal marijuana, and babies named Obama, just to beat us over the head with the fact that we are, indeed, in the future.  We get it... you screwed us over, we did a time jump and missed a shit-load.  Message received, loud and clear!  Finally... FINALLY... the very last scene... oh my GOD, the very last scene... the Botwins (and Doug) sitting on the stairs in the snow, sharing a legal joint, staring in the general direction of the camera, smiling and giggling at the instant potato flakes littering the screen... and then you fade to the credits?!  WHAT?!  *entering angry black girl mode*  Oh, HELL no!  You CANNOT resolve an entire series with joint giggles!  I really feel like we have been jilted on a proper send off for this family that we have followed for so long.  Give us one last theatrical release (that so many MANY people will gladly pay for) with the REAL ending that the true fans deserve.

My second view (opinion): Nancy is actually dead.  Or at least, dying... in a coma... and dreaming this entire last season while laying unconscious in a hospital bed.  I actually would have preferred this to be the final scene, the big final reveal, in lieu of the group snow pot shot; or at least have that scene fade into her taking her real final breath in the hospital bed as she took her first hit of the sticky icky in the dream scenario.  The whole theme of the final episode was that everyone was leaving Nancy, but I think it would have been tragically poetic to actually have HER leave everyone else as she passed away in the real world.  But, since that was not the case, I would've much rather of had the previous season finale be the series finale, with either Nancy getting shot (and killed, showing her tombstone in the final frame), or having Nancy's fate in the forever balance of cancellation limbo.  The entirety of season eight was just too far fetched, even by the standards set by Weeds.  Too surreal to be real.

Thoughts?  Opinions?  Rants?  Leave them.  I'll be sure to ignore them like this last episode did to me.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Drama, My Drama

Drama, My Drama 09-03-2012

Drama, my drama
Won't you leave me alone
You're attracted to me
like a dog and a bone

You catch me when silent
and all is still
You take all my hope
my energy, and my will

I like the peaceful
the post storm calm
But you hate my content
and replace it with qualm

Just go away now
You're not welcome, tramp
I revoke your invite
Just like a True Blood vamp


Saturday, August 4, 2012

Million Dollar Heaven

Today I found one of those fake million dollar bills on the ground; y'know, the ones that are supposed to make you think "Dur hur, a MILLION DOLLAR BILL!  WOOHOO!" and then when you pick it up, it disappoints you with Christian scripture on the back that is supposed to make you ponder about life, death, and eternal salvation.  Do these ever work?  Do they ever really fool anyone and trick them into Christianity?  Is there really a point to this?  I just do not get why Christians keep pushing their religion on others by tossing garbage on the ground.  Don't they realize that littering is illegal and is punishable with a five hundred dollar fine?  Maybe they can use one of these "bills" to pay it with.  Anyway, I digress; the point I am making is why does this one religion feel the need to litter and go door to door trying to recruit others into their beliefs?  Are they that insecure?  Are they really that lonely?  Do they get bonus points in heaven for however many people they get to join their flock?  "I see you got fifteen people to join you! Here's a pair of wings.  And for you... oh dear... I'm sorry... you only got three people.  Here's half a chicken wing and an unstrung harp."  Is it just me or does this seem like borderline cult activity?  Going around and trying to round up people to join your little crusade?  I know that homosexuality is not a religion (although we're both on our knees a lot) but they preach about the "gay agenda".  What about the shady "Christian agenda"?  If anything, they are worse!  We do not go around trying to recruit people.  We don't drop fake issues of Sports Illustrated with hardcore images of boy on boy sex and quotes like "Gurl, you needs to join us!  Gay sex is GOOD!"  We don't go door to door with "Haaaay!  How you doin'?!  Have you discovered the joys of your prostate?  Wouldn't you want to be in the arms of man love?"  I also don't see many other religions resorting to this tactic.  I have never come across a plastic gelt with the text "Oy!  You want the real thing?  Don't be a meshugeneh!  Come join us at temple and have a sandwich!"  I just don't get what the ever loving Christ is wrong with this religion and what the hell happened to it to make it so damn twisted.

In closing... don't fucking litter.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

We don't need no water, let the motherfucker burn!

OMFG! I just had to put out a bush fire right outside my apartment building! I have often seen the person in the second floor balcony right above the bushes, toss their cigarette outside, so I am guessing this one finally took. I go outside, and I hear a guy talking on the phone as he was coming in. He gets off the phone, looks at me, and says, "Hey, did you see that fire outside?" "Uh, no..." "Yeah, it's right there. Looks like it's getting bigger. I called 911" and then he just GOES HOME. WTF?! I go outside, see the flames, and due to my phobia I start going into a black woman panic and said "HOLY JESUS!" O_O I run inside, get a bucket of water, go back, and put most of it out. I go back for round two and when I come back out, I see a police officer walking up. As I am pouring the second bucket, he says, "I really appreciate it." I look around and see TEN other people just STARING st the damn thing, so I say, "Well, SOMEONE had to do something!" and then I go back inside. Basic science, people. Water kills fire. DO SOMETHING! People walking your dog... get your dog to PEE on the gawdamn flames! SHEEEEEET!

"It-it- the f - it -flam - flames. Flames, on the side of my building..."

Reminds me of a time when I was about 16, riding with my mom, on the way home. It had just finished raining. Well, she took one turn a little too sharply, and got stick in the ditch. As I was pushing while she was revving the gas, the friction from the back tire must've caught the grass under it on fire. I didn't even think or take into consideration my fear of fire and the thought of the whole damn car exploding, I dug into the mud and water beside it with my bare hands and flung it on the flames as I screamed for my mom to "STEP ON IT!" I put the fire out, mom got the car out, and I was covered in mud and full of adrenaline.

In short... I hate fire. >_<


Emily:  OH DAMN!  You are a superhero now!  That totally counts as superhero qualifying material!

Brad:  It's sad when one is considered a superhero for possessing basic knowledge and the will to actually DO something. >_<

Emily:  I know right?!  What has the world come to?!  LOL!

Brad:  It's gonna come to a lot of stupid people on FIRE. LOL!

Dawn:  REEKRIS! Get the water, ni%$a!

Brad:  ROFL!

Tuesday, July 10, 2012


Dirty 07-10-2012

You left early in the morning
without a goodbye
I touch the space on your side
turn my face and sigh

I throw the covers off of me
expose the chest cavity
rise up like a zombie
with hunger to satisfy

Why did you have to leave
and take the biggest part of me?
Now I'm walking through this Hell
Searching for my soul to sell...
... and I feel dirty
Feel so dirty...

Voided and broken
a shambling mess
Laying with another
While my eyes protest

To feel anything again
Is my one and only crime
But it's only temporary
To satiate or pass the time

Dust it off, shake it clean
Open up and rip the seam
Fill it in and pat it down
I'm ashamed of what I found...
... and I feel dirty
So damn dirty...

In a heap, on the floor
Crying, fighting, wanting more
I have no right to ask for help
I brought this all on myself
... and I feel dirty
So fucking dirty...

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Podunk USA - a re-post

In 2009, I stumbled across this nifty little article from another friend's blog that is about my hometown of Cleburne, TX.  In it, it describes with scary accuracy Cleburne and what I personally think of it.  It really does capture the frightening essence of a town left behind by time... and by me...

"My father grew up in a very small town in Texas called Cleburne. It’s about twenty-five minutes outside Dallas, and it is absolutely the most miserable place I have ever visited in my life. I used to dread taking family trips to visit my grandmother, aunts, and uncles (of whom I have fourteen on my father’s side) because entering Cleburne was like entering a foreign country. The rules as I knew them just didn’t apply.My father was born in 1941, three months before the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. He was raised in Cleburne, current population 29,050, with his six brothers and sisters in a two bedroom house right next to the train tracks. His mother, my grandmother, is currently 98 years old and living alone in the same house she’s lived in since she married my grandfather at 17 years of age. She has never been on an airplane and never traveled further than 50 miles from the place of her birth. All seven of her children live within 200 miles of her. Most of my paternal family lives in Texas because if they were to move anywhere else, the culture shock would probably kill them instantly.

I have never been to Appalachia, but the entire time I was reading Kathleen Stewart’s A Space on the Side of the Road, I kept picturing Cleburne, Texas. My experiences in small-town Cleburne, although no where near as dramatic as Stewart’s in Appalachia, are overwhelmingly similar to the cultural atmosphere that Stewart found “by the side of the road.” Cleburners have their own manner of speaking that is almost unintelligible to outsiders, inflecting their words with meaning and sound that was foreign to me as a child. I was always incredibly confused by the meaning of the word “drawers” whenever I visited my grandmother. A drawer to me was a place to store clothes or toys. A Cleburner firmly believes that “drawers” are the same as “underpants.”

But despite such petty examples, overall the feeling that I got from reading Stewart’s book was the same feeling I used to get while visiting Podunk, USA. Stewart writes:

“Imagine, in short, how culture in an occupied, betrayed, fragmented, and finally deserted place might become not a corpus of abstract ideas or grounded traditions, but a shifting and nervous space of desire immanent in lost and re-membered and imagined things. Picture the effort to track a cultural “system” that is “located,” if anywhere, in the nervous, shifting, hard-to-follow trajectories of desire and in-filled with all of the confusion and aggravation of desire itself. Imagine a world that dwells in the space of the gap, in a logic of negation, surprise, contingency, roadblock, and perpetual incompletion.”

This is Cleburne. A remnant of an old America that no longer exists. The town is poor and small. It used to depend on oil and farming, two sources of income that are dwindling now in the area. Beautiful farmland has been superseded by commercial structures, fading and becoming dingy with neglect. It is a place that still harbors the old seeds of racism and conflict. A place where people are aware that they should be tolerant, but just can’t bring themselves to comply. A place the young are constantly trying to escape from (my father married at 18 just to leave his mother’s house — the marriage failed, not surprisingly), and the old can’t bring themselves to leave. The gaps that Stewart talks about so often in her book are everywhere in my memories of Cleburne, a place stuck in a memory and tradition that the rest of the country has left far behind."

~(my reply)~

"Wow. Nice to see someone else out there has the same view as me. I was born and raised in Cleburne and I managed to not only survive and escape, but I was also able to flourish thanks to my self-sheltering imagination (which turned out to be a double edged weapon as it also made me quite shy and timid) and then later in life, the internet fed my constant cranial needs. I absorbed as much culture as I could get my grubby little paws on, even in my earliest of years. I knew from the first tangible sentient thought that there was something terribly wrong with this place and it was keeping a great deal of knowledge from me, strangling my very being. I was always gasping for air. I yearned for interaction with people, books, buildings, and LIFE in general. I’m lucky that I did not escape by the means that most youth “escape” Cleburne, that being heavy drug use which is ironic in itself that it just strengthens their anchor there. I was very amused to see others so trapped in that cycle and know that it was the wrong answer. You could often find me smirking at others because I held all of the correct solutions, all the right cards if you will, and I knew that this town would be their lifelong destiny. Even though I hold such loathsome feelings for this little speck of dirt, it was rather nice to take a proverbial stroll down that memory lane. Much better than the real thing. ^_^"

Friday, June 15, 2012

I'm all ripped n'shit...

Stacy:  Now, why can't you sleep? 

Brad:  *shrug*  Just can't.  No reason.

Stacy:  Rub one out and then go to sleep.  Always works for me.

Brad:  Way ahead of ya... and nope.  LOL!

Stacy:  Really?!?  That always works for me!  I mean, very rarely does it not! 

Brad:  Doesn't work for me

Stacy:  o.0  Weird.

Brad:  Maybe I'm doing it wrong?  Do I need to run laps during?  o_0

Stacy:  Well yeah, duh...

Brad:  'kay... if you ever hear me on your treadmill when you come home... don't walk in...

Stacy:  LMFAO ROTF!  Actually, I would have to ... just to see that sight. 

Brad:  "What are you doing?!"  "Running one out!  Now leave, MOM!  Gaaahhhhhh!"

Stacy:  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Thank god I wasn't drinking when I read that!

Brad:  LOL!

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Okay, Cupid! Quiddit! >:-(

Brad:  I just LOVE talking to guys on; when it seems like we're really clicking, meshing, and hitting it off, they apparently get abducted by the mob for ransom, because they DROP OFF THE FUCKING FACE OF THE PLANET!  >_<
Stacy:  Oh, hello sarcasm.  You've been hiding for a few days.
Brad:  Like, they realize, "Oh, he's a comedian! Well, I'm just not too fond of laughter. Bye!"
Brad:  Sorry for making you laugh?  o_0
Stacy:  I LOVE laughter!
Brad:  I mean WTF? I know a lot of guys out there want serious, meaningful conversation to connect with, but good lord that shit is boring!
Stacy:  I know, right?!?!? 

Brad:  {first date conversation}

             Guy:  "I just want to know what your goals are in life. What are your dreams and aspirations?"

             Me:  "..... got your nose!"

             Guy:  "......."

Brad:  ^_^
Stacy:  Oh.  My.  God.  I'm having fits of laughter over here.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Tardy for the Party

Today has been... unique.  First, my phone alarm, which is set for 5:00am every morning, went off as usual.  I hit snooze, as usual.  What's unusual is that it did not go off again!  I was an HOUR late for work!  I looked at my phone and it said that it was STILL in snooze mode!  Bitch, that is not "snooze mode", that is "Rip Van Winkle mode"!

I get to work, and a problem comes up.  I have a script that has an issue; scripts navigate an online bank site automatically to download files for all accounts listed.  This one is crashing and not getting all files.  I sent an e-mail to the team lead about it; "The script is not getting all the files."  His reply?  "The script needs to run to get all the files"  You have NO idea how much I am resisting sending him this:

So, after that, I decide that I'm hungry as all hell since I slept for gawdamn forever.  I go downstairs to the convenience-eatery-cafeteria amalgam type place to get a simple bagel and cream cheese.  That's all.  Just a quick in and out so I could scurry back up to the ninth floor and continue my fury of catching up.  I go up to the counter and see the little penny pinching Korean that I have mentioned several times before.  I am to the right side of his peripheral vision, but somehow he doesn't see me.  I tap my foot.  No reaction.  I sniff loudly.  Nothing.  I clear my throat.  He starts hiking his pants up to his nipples.  I jiggle the change in my pocket.  He IMMEDIATELY turns to me, lets go of his nipple belt, and acknowledges me with "How I help you?!"  :-|

Bagel finally in hand, I head for the elevator.  I get on.  Just as the doors are about to close, a boney manicured little hand swoops in at the last second to open the doors back up.  Bitch, really?  There are three other elevators.  Really?!  I am also stunned that the doors didn't crush her fragile anorexic hand.  The doors open, and she looks off in the distance and shouts in true woo-girl style "Tiffany!  HAAAAY gurl!  How you doing?!"  She holds the door this whole time waiting for her waifish friend to board the increasingly late elevator while I sit there with my bagel that is getting colder by the second.  Her friend finally boards the Two Twigs and a Fattie express.  Guess what floor they went to?  No, really.  Guess.  I'll wait.  This is an easy one.  This is what they just HAD to hold the elevator up for this entire time...


Yes, the second mutha fuggin' floor.  It would've taken a LOT less time for everyone involved if those bitches just took the stairs.  Well, if their twiggy little legs don't snap under the pressure in the process and send their heavy bobble heads over the edge.  Oh, that thought gave me a warm fuzzy.  ^_^

Two?!  Are you friggin' KIDDING me?!  >_<

*eats cold bagel*


Brad:  There is no hole in my bagel at all... looks like an asshole... is that like a Jewish four leaf clover? o_0


Brad:  I am SO calling assholes "Jewish Four Leaf Clovers" from now on.


Brad:  I dunno if I am hungry or turned on...

Stacy:  Every Jew's greatest dilemma; hungry or horny.

~(RELATED SIDE UPDATE {yes, I just made that a thing})~

Dear Rude Walking Teeth and Hair,

Next time you might wanna think about the ramifications of spraying your designer knock-off, stank nasty, candy ass, Willy Wonka, tween wannabe whorefume on a closed elevator with other people, because next time I ride the elevator with you, when the doors open, I WILL kick you out to your floor... which, BTW, once again, was TWO! Just couldn't wait the whole ten second ride without needing a spritz of Rapist Attractant, could ya?!

Sunday, May 27, 2012

I also park in handicapped spaces!

Yeah, this really happened.  I still cannot believe it, and of course it happens to me in true sitcom style.

So, there I was at the bar with a big group of friends on the patio, sitting at a table, chatting, laughing, and drinking.  You know, the normal thing to do at a bar.  More friends come to join the group, so I sit at the neighboring table.  Two pretty girls walk up to my table and ask if I mined if they could sit there.  Being the gentleman that I am, I insisted that they do; always glad to meet new people.  They ask me if a waitress would come out and take their drink order and I tell them that it would probably be a lot quicker to just go inside and order them there.  They look at each other and debate if that would be the best course of action, and they agree.  The two girls get up, smile, and ask me to save their seats for them.  I grin and say, "Absolutely!" as they leave to acquire their beverages.

About five minutes later, three douchey guys stumble up the stairs, obviously blitzed, one of them on crutches.  Another one of them comes up to my table, grabs one of the girl's chair, and tries to take it for the hobbling crutches drunk.  I say "Oh, these chairs are all taken."  The guy looks at me, scowls, and says, "Oh?!  They're all taken, huh?!  That's real nice!  Take the chair from the gimp!" then slams the chair back.  I sit there stunned, stare, and just calmly say, "Oh my god!  Wow... sorry!"  He huffs, "Yeah, you're REAL sorry" as he and his Douche Dudes go to another very empty table with plenty of chairs for their drunk asses.

Five minutes later, the girls come back with drinks in hand and I tell them, "Gurl, you SO owe me!" and I tell them what had just happened.

This last part of the night is a little fuzzy, because I do not know the exact details or saw the entire event, but two of the Ed Hardy Bunch got into a big ol' fight and a drink was thrown at the head of the other.

Very exciting shit.  Just glad that wasn't MY head.  >_<

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Here For You

Here For You 05-22-2012

To the down
To your frown
A smile placed
I give to you
A friendship true
A lasting hug
A kiss askew
You are not less
You aren't a mess
You're more than that
You're shine I confess
I wish you the best
Through this life's test
I'm here for you, though
When you finally rest

The Horn

The Horn 05-22-2012

Desire speaks my emotion
Flesh persuades the commotion
Lust filled wanting in the waiting
Fucking hot guys tease the baiting
Master the hand, leaves me wanting
Muster the brand, leaves me aching
For the taste upon my lips
For the movement of my hips
For the skin within my grips
For the nectar that he sips
Handsome he waits and teases
Succulently supine he pleases
A self made eruption
A self made implosion
A self made fist it seizes

Lavish and lovely and luscious and lusty...

Saturday, May 19, 2012

I left my ass in Mexico...

I know it has been a while since I wrote an actual blog or update or made a video, so with my recent bout of sickness  and recovery... then the fallout from the first meal after the recovery, I thought this would be an awesome place to get back in touch with everyone.  Ready?  Here we go...

So, as I said, I was sick.  Had the ick for about a week and one of the symptoms was... how should I put this...?  Shooting a jet of dark green Kool Aid from my backside.  ^_^  I try to keep it classy here.  Anyway, after a week of that, you tend to get a little... sensitive.  Saturday rolls around and I feel fabu.  So good in fact that I feel like putting solid foods back into my diet.  I had recently gotten a menu on my door for Mexican food delivery.  Gee, that sounds like an AWESOME idea.  What could POSSIBLY go wrong with THAT?!

What follows are the messages between Stacy and I during what I call "The Incident"...

-(over FaceBook chat)-

Brad:  OMG, so much omnom messican food... right at my door.  So... full...

Stacy:  So jealous. I had freakin' cereal.

Brad:  Queso, guacamole, tacos, tamales, stuffed jalapenos, taquitos, chips, salsa, chile con carne, rice, beans, and shrimp quesadilla and SO much left over!  Super cheap, too!  $30

Stacy:  You suuuuuck!

Brad:  Omnomnom

Stacy:  *extends middle finger in your general direction*

Brad:  Heehee!

-(ten minutes later)-

Brad:  JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!!!!!!!  OOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!  I have been shitting green liquid all day... so, my ass is a tad chapped.... just now... yeah... Messican revenge... OMG, THE BURNING!!!  Take a paper cut, add vinegar, salt, and tabasco ... now put that paper cut on your ASSHOLE!  I danced around the apartment like I was tying to bring the rain!  I am scared to DEATH to shit now.  Never in my life has my ass hurt so much, and I have had some big boys.  OMG, it is on FIRE right now!  I just want it to go numb at this point.

-(Stacy was no longer on FaceBook, so I switch to text)-

Brad:  You need to get back on FaceBook right now and give me some sympathy.  >_<  Well, over text now, because I am back in the bathroom.  :-(

Stacy:  Awww I'm at my parents.  But I'm here via text.

Brad:  What the hell can I put on my ass to ease chaffed raw tender burning ass????  >_<

Stacy:  Honestly? Tucks, Preparation H, or vitamin E.

Brad:  Well, I don't have any of that right now, so picture the lovely image of Brad taking an ice cube, putting it in a wet washcloth, and clutching it between his cheeks as it dangles freely.  >_<  I'm so fucking classy.

Stacy:  Lmfao rotf. I love it!

Brad:   I DON'T!  I don't want to hear SHIT from mothers and the pain of child birth!  I am about to go feral wolf and gnaw my own asshole off!

Stacy:  Hahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Brad:  Unless those babies are made out of molten lava, they can STFU!

Stacy:  Well...they are devil spawn...  At least you can legally flush yours!  LMAO!

Brad:  LOL!!!!  Touche.  Very touche.  OMG, this hurts so bad.  I know it's funny shit, but it's also painful fire shit!  >_<  What the hell was I thinking getting Mexican after a week of Kool Aid shits and a full morning of raw ass wiping???  This is one time when "raw dog" isn't so fun.

Stacy:  Raw dog is never fun. =l

Brad:  I know they say if you eat something spicy that you should eat bread and drink milk... and am thinking very hard about soaking some Mrs Baird's in some Borden and just letting my ass have a nice meal and a soak.  >_<  Omnomnom...

Stacy:  Lololololololol!  My ass felt like that for months b/c of the chronic diarrhea I had from the divorce.

Brad:  HOW did you get through it???  Not the divorce, the tender tushie?

Stacy: lot "cleansing cloths" b/c they have viatmin e.

Brad:  *sigh*  I don't have those...  *goes to the fridge*

Stacy:  What about cortizone cream?

Brad:  Nope, but my food came with some extra sour cream.  Thinking about just slathering that on.

Stacy:  Sour cream + sour ass = bad idea.  You'll be farting cheese curds.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Rejection Junkie 3

Rejection Junkie 3 05-09-2012

The faded look
The sideways smirk
The handsome hook
The filled notebook

The fastest lust
The hardest crush
The hair all mussed
The blood race rush

The yearn
The burn
My turn
Then spurn

The obvious intellect
The perpetual reject
The physical aspect
The want of perfect

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

My Life on the Triple Z-List

How do you know that you have watched WAY too much Katy Griffin - My Life on the D-List? When you have a dream that YOU are a famous comedian.

Scene: Late at night in a grocery store, the bakery area, one person there closing up.

I asked the lady if she could stay and make me one thing before she leaves.  She agrees (y'know, because I'm SO famous) and I hand her a bag of Hershey Kisses, the cherry cordial kind. I ask her to make me those sugar cookies with a kiss on the top.  She makes them and I thank her with $1000 and "Thank you so much!  Had you not put speed bumps on these damn things, the whole bag would've been gone in an hour!"  She laughs.

Scene: Walking in a parking lot, in Kiki drag (side note, I am thin and hawt as hell!), and I see Shane Dawson.

He greets me (y'know, because I'm SO famous) and asks me how I'm doing.  I answer, still in character, "Oh, busy as fugg!  Just workin' and tryin' to raise my chidlins."  "I didn't know you had kids!"  "Yeah... little Jamiroquai and little *random clicks and whistles*, named after my ancestors from the motherland... Germany.  You know..."  He laughs.

Scene: My big ass mansion (y'know, because I'm SO famous), talking to Geoffrey, my live in butler (he's about 60).

"There's a wet spot in the living room!  It was either you or the dog!  Either way, someone is getting whacked with a newspaper!"  He laughs and cleans it up.

I have issues...  >_<

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Feelings; Nothing more than feelings...

Learn to laugh at yourself, because if you don't, someone else will beat you to the punch.

The first time that I learned to laugh at myself and not take life too seriously was when I was about six or seven years old.  Growing up was difficult, especially since I was a giant butterball that had to ROLL everywhere I went.  Being such an easy target, naturally, I was teased, picked on, and bullied often.  Usually this would happen on the bus rides to and from school by the older kids.  Little did they know, they were just adding fuel to a fire of fury that would build up to the levels of the Hiroshima bomb.  Not that it would actually DO much when I unleashed it, but I would feel SO much better.  One day, after an extremely extended amount of ridiculing, I uncorked my bottle.  I was no longer in control of my body or limbs as they proceeded to WAIL of the kid behind me.  I can still see the shocked look on his face as I boxed him about the ears, nose, and throat, all the while crying and shouting, "Fucking stop it!  Why are you doing this to me?!  I HAVE FEELINGS, TOO!"  After the storm died down and I was told to re-take my seat, a sense of calm washed over me, like a blanket fresh from the dryer.  I smiled.  I felt that I finally got my point across and that my days of bullies was behind me.  I thought that word would spread all around the schools "Don't fuck with Brandon Sharp!  He'll kick your ass!"  Little did I know, that was not the case.  Little did I know, I just gave them another reason besided my portly frame to pick on me.  Little did I know, I had just become a meme.  A meme before memes were a 'thing'.

The next day on the bus, I noticed a flyer being passed around and giggles erupting when it reached the next intended person.  I caught a glimpse of it.  It was a picture of a local children's television show host smiling next to his puppet dog companion.  "BJ and The Super Ones".  I shrugged it off with an "Okay, I don't know what's so funny about that one particular picture, but whatever floats their boat."  Later that day, as I boarded the bus, outright laughter in my direction was not only audible, but visually obvious as well.  Not knowing what was going on, I took my seat.  A minute later, a crumpled ball of paper hit my head by an unknown assailant.  I un-crinkled it to see BJ staring at me with the perma-grin... but something else was added.  There was a cartoon word bubble coming out of his teeth with the phrase "I have feelings, too!"  For anyone else, the rage would've taken over and another bout of limb flailing and cry-shouting would commence... but thankfully I was born with an astute sense of humor.  The only thing out of my mouth was immense laughter.  I mean, c'mon.  That was funny as fuck!  This must've confused and scared the other kids because all was quiet save for my giggle-fit.  I can only imagine that they thought they pushed me over the flippin' edge and that the next day I would get on the bus with a machete and show them my Jason Voorhees impersonation.  After that, the teasing, taunting, and bullying never got to me again.  I could actually point out what was being made fun of and join in with my own rapier wit which was worlds beyond the immature ribbing they attempted!  That usually took the steam and fun out of the bullies' taunts, and they eventually just stopped all together thinking "What's the point?"  I never realized that is what the ultimate outcome was; I was just laughing along and enjoying a joke!

So, yes, it DOES get better... but ya gotta meet better halfway and actually TRY to make it better.  Don't just sit and wait for better to come to you... it may get lost on the way.

Now I leave you with a clip that I found of Cartoon Clubhouse/Good Time Gang/BJ and The Super Ones/or whatever the fuck it wanted to be called.  Hell, after that day, I called it the "I Have Feelings, Too Show".  Thanks, BJ, for helping me laugh at myself.  ^_^


Brad:  Wow, Unicorn Booty just posted about another gay teen taking his life due to bullies.  Yep, I commented with a link to my blog.
Stacy:  Well, it *does* get better.
Brad:  Am I a bad person for not really sympathizing with these kids that are taking the easy way out instead of dealing with it like I had to do?  I mean, it does suck that it happens and I DO wish it could stop all together, but dammit homo, man up!
Stacy J. Sciarra: LMFAO!  "Dammit homo, man up!" is just not something you hear everyday!

Friday, April 13, 2012

Missah Yoo

Stacy:  How sad is it that I found it romantic to have non farted on twinkies?
Brad:  I'm bawling as we speak.
Stacy:  Mr yoo 
Stacy:  ...and by that I mean 'me too'
Brad:  ROFLMAO!!! I was about to say! Who the hell is Mr. Yoo?!?!?!?!
Stacy:  My fingers were a little... off center 
Brad:  "Missah Yoo, he from China, he like-a tha flied lice and egg lorr."
Stacy:  Ahn non faahted on twinkies
Brad:  "No, he like-a tha faahts."
Brad:  "He first name is Fok. Fok Yoo like-a tha faahts."
Stacy:  LMAO... ok. mood improved 13%
Brad:  ^_^

And before any of you start playing the race card... can you really be racist of an imaginary man that you MADE UP?!  o_0

Here & Gone

Here & Gone 04-13-2012

Quell me with words that slip from your fingers
Kiss me with silence so hard that it lingers
Tell me your thoughts of unbridled emotions
Whisper your dreams of constant commotions
Lull me to sleep by breath from another
Keep me in deep, your labor of conquer
Wake me with hazy half kept promise
Then vanish completely when fully conscious

He Breathes In...

He breathes in. A deep sigh through his dry cracked mouth. A sigh that would put the desert to shame. A sigh so deep it causes his diaphragm to bellow outward and push against his belt, as if wanting to break free of its leathery tyranny. Once his belly is full of oxygen, he spews out the carbon dioxide, disposing of all remnants that the sigh even took place. He looks up at the screen, the provider of his existence. Windows open, programs running, scripts scripting. The same thing, but on a different day. A different day that had happened five times before. He wished for the different. Something more than just another day of the year. Something more than the endless sighs. Something more than what kept his pants up. With a furrowed brow, he opens a blank notepad on the computer and proceeds to write... He breathes in...

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Sometimes a Stacy is just a Stacy

Brad:  So, weird dream last night...

Stacy:  Oooh tell me!

Brad:  I was in prison... I don't know what for, but it doesn't matter. Couldn't have been TOO bad, though, because this was like a minimal security type place; open cells, community room with TV, board games, snack machines, and cots for naps, and everyone there was SUPER nice and copacetic. Well, not everyone; apparently there was this one group or gang that just took whatever they wanted, and by anything, I mean ANYTHING. So, there I was, lying on one of the cots, chatting with some chick that I do not recognize, and then I feel some guy lay down on top of me and start grinding his fully erect honkin' peen against my ass. I give a wide eyed WTF look to the girl and say "What the hell?!" She then tells me "He's a bug, you're a rug; bugs go anywhere and do anything they like, rugs just have to lie there and take it." I sigh, "Bug and rug? Well... fugg!" This causes everyone around us, my potential rapist included, to start cracking up. Then Mr. Big Dick pats me on the back and says "You're alright" then walks away.

Brad:  Okay, Miss Dream Master... what in the ever loving hell does THAT mean?!?!?! o_0

Stacy:  Ok, first of all prison typically represents feeling repressed, censored or trapped in some way...  The fact that you specifically said "it was minimum" is also significant...  Kinda sounds like it was work.

Stacy:  The chick you didn't know represents the same sort of censorship.  There's something in your life that you feel censored on.  HOWEVER, since you were 'chatting', it could symbolize seeking advice or someone in your life that offers you insight (like ME) hehehehe.

Stacy:  Sex is a complicated interpretation, but really, since you're gay in awake life and were dreaming about something gay sexual, that's actually VERY good.  It means that you are accepting of yourself (and since sex didn't actually happen, that's about it) that's all that part meant.  Some part of your life feels censored but not your sexuality 

Stacy:  ...and it was definitely me in your dream, you just didn't know it 

Brad:  LOL, with glasses, short hair, and a bit of pudge... sure, I can see it. LOL

Stacy:  Just because it didn't LOOK like me doesn't mean it wasn't me.  Yes, the world revolves around ME!

Brad:  LOL, I gathered...... a LONG time ago.

Brad:  I can hear this conversation in a different way... "I had a near rape dream last night." "Was I in it?!?!"

Brad:  "... yes... pointing and laughing..."

Brad:  LOL

Stacy:  LMFAO ROTF!  EPIC STATUS in the making.

Friday, April 6, 2012

These bots are getting pretty damn brazen!

lonahqbbilinski: Hey wanna see my new clit ring ...i bought it to show it off!
ZaxxonQ: Keep the receipt...
lonahqbbilinski: Hey sweety, how r ya 
ZaxxonQ: Right now... because of you... disgusted. >_<
lonahqbbilinski: Was starting to think no one wanted to chat with me...So watcha ya up to cutie?
ZaxxonQ: No one still does, we are all broke, cannot afford to "chat" with a bot, and I am at work trying to make a living in an HONEST way. Now please... go'way.
lonahqbbilinski: uggh no i'm not are u???? lolz
ZaxxonQ: go'way
lonahqbbilinski: Im just hangin out..I have the place to myself, my roommate left on vacation for the week so I get to play online in my thong...LOL
ZaxxonQ: go'way
lonahqbbilinski: So what ya wearin sexy? lolz
ZaxxonQ: go'way
ZaxxonQ: go'way
ZaxxonQ: go'way
ZaxxonQ: go'way
ZaxxonQ: go'way
lonahqbbilinski: I know we just met but im really turned on right now...Its just a little naughty fun on my web cam...You UUP for it sexy???
ZaxxonQ: *sigh* I'm gay, bitch. Go'way before I rip out your pretty new clit ring.
lonahqbbilinski: make me your bitch 
ZaxxonQ: I already have a bitch; her name is Kenzi and she'll bite your snatch. Go'way.
lonahqbbilinski: make me your bitch 
ZaxxonQ: Uh oh, bot's phonograph is scratched... *kick*
lonahqbbilinski: k my cam is wired thru a chat network to keep the yahoo kids away from me so dont worry if you dont have a cam or yours don't work ok? I gotcha covered baby! 
ZaxxonQ: Oh good, you're back to your regular annoying self. Okay, I'm-a go now. You have fun with your new ring, cause that is the ONLY action you'll be getting. See ya!

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Miner Sixty-Niner

Stacy:  I'm going to smoke... right after Steve stops messing with the trash.
Stacy:  Maybe I should curl my hair while I wait.  Because, you know, I'm working SO hard.
Stacy:  Dammit!  Steve just caught me curling my hair!
Brad:  Why does it matter if he saw you do that?  He hires such useless twats that just sit there, stare, and fart in their panties, you look like a damn miner in comparison!
Stacy:  It just bothers me.  I like to at least pretend that I work in the morning.  LOL.
Brad:  Yep... mining for hair... this new euphemism is brought to you by Brad.


April:  Kenzi looks like a little doughnut curled up in my lap.
Brad:  Yep, a hairy doughnut.  Oh lord... another one.  >_<

Friday, February 24, 2012

Ali Spagnola

Oh, Ali Spagnola, how I love thee; let me count the ways!  One, two, three, four, five, six... *sigh*  Let's just pretend I went all the way to sixty, m'kay?  Yes, I love every single one of your minute long ditties, and that isn't just the hooch talking.  You bring such a unique charm to your performances, songs, videos, sites, and art, it's quite alluring, even without beer goggles.  It's increasingly rare to find an artist that pours so much of themselves into what they do and love doing it, not just for the money, fame, hookers, or blow, but for the fans.  You really deliver and speak to them, to us, and I find that ever so spectacularly fascinating.  I could sit here and gush all day, but gurl, I’m-a try to hook you up and boost your sales.  You deliver on the goods, and you totally earn my respect, my adoration, my loyalty, my straight razor if you ever need me to cut a bitch, and my friendship!  ^_^

Oh, yeah, and my thirty bones.  :-P

So, listen up, peeps!  This is Ali.  Ali has an album.  That album is called The Power Hour Album.  That album comes on a cute little 1GB USB thumb drive that is tucked away inside a groovy little shot glass.  Wanna know more?  Of course you do!  So, play the video and prepare to be wowzered (yes, that just happened) by the amazing charm of Ali Spagnola… then get ready to whip out your credit card… or, y’know, if you are living in the NOW, your PayPal password... which you may feel free to share with me if you so please.  ^_^

See?  Now doncha wanna be one of the cool kids and get one of these nifty little fuckers?!  ^_^  What's thirty dollars?  That's chicken feed!  (what, you don't feed your chickens money?)  If you really need to watch the budget, just get the album by itself or download it (legally, bish... I'm watching you).  Also, if you are not convinced that this chick-a-dee is worthy of your time or moolah, check this... she actually talks to her fans  Feel free to send her tweets, drunk texts, or chat with her on her site!  Ali really is a cool and friendly gal, and doncha want a friend like that?  ^_^

(in the Meeboverse) Soooooo... think there will be a sequel to your album?!  :-D
Ali Spags: haha possibly 40 more for a centurion
Ali Spags: i saw you just bought a shot glass :) thanks for the support! In-fuggin-deed, m'lady!  ^_^  Always glad to support the pretty and charming artistes! So, how is the case against the horrid douche-bag going, or are you not allowed to leak the deets on that?  :-/ *hangs head because he just used 'deets'*
Ali Spags: hahaha! deets.
Ali Spags: case is still going on. super lame and super slow
Ali Spags: but i thiiiiiink we're almost done W00t!  Wait, did I just w00t prematurely?  That WAS a good w00t, right?  Why does this conversation sound so familiar???  o_o
Ali Spags: enjoy that plushgun concert, by the way :) i just watched your latest video
Ali Spags: i opened for them once DOOD!  You met DAN?!?!?!?!?! *jelly*  >_< but, yeah, if you make it through to the Kiki vids, I apologize in advance.  :-P
Ali Spags: haha yeah. they were openers at the show, too!
Ali Spags: freezepop were the headliners. In my perfect life, he is my hubby.  *sigh*   I mean, I love your album, too!  Don't get me wrong!  I guess you can be our maid or something.  :-| lol
Ali Spags: have you seen "i want to write a song for you"? OMG, yes! I would LOOOOOOVE to do that once I have the funds!  Huh... I just spent money on you instead of saving up for that... you just moved up from maid to saucy mistress on the side.  ;-)
Ali Spags: hahaha! i'm thrilled with being the adjective "saucy" LOL!!!  Ditto!  ^_^  (we just had a total Ghost moment)  :-P
Ali Spags: hahaha!!!! well, the booze is really kicking in (yes, I vow to only text and IM you while plastered) and I should head to bed.  Work comes at 5am.  >_<  I am ecstatic to hear the case is coming to a (hopefully happy) close.  Keep up the awesome work and NEVER give up!  ^_^  *hugs*
Ali Spags: awww, thanks hun! have a good one :D

(in the Twitterverse)
@alispagnola Would you mind terribly if I re-posted on my site our conversation from tonight and promoted your site? ^_^ Pretty please?
@ZaxxonQ Wellllll. . . Ok go for it :) Good chatting with you, darlin'!
@alispagnola W00t! Will whip something up while at work... and sober... not gonna be WORKING... so I might as well do something useful! ^_^
@ZaxxonQ Haha you'd better hope your boss doesn't read your tweets
@alispagnola My boss is Irish... I'll just give that free download card from the shot glass to him. That will make everything better. ^_^


(a conversation with Stacy while trying to push this article)
Stacy:  Yo.  What are you instructing me to buy?
Brad:  Click the link, silly!  LOL!  YOU might not be the target clientele, though... (Stacy does not drink)
Stacy:  I'm clicking and reading...
Brad Sharp:  She is SO VERY fuggin' charming in her video... I HAD to buy one... and then question my sexuality seeing as a quirky girl made me buy something that a beefcake would not... o_o
Stacy:  LOL!!!

~~~(UPDATE PART 2)~~~

She really does rock!  She put ME on HER blog!  I guess fair's fair!  ^_^

Sunday, February 19, 2012

02-19-2012 aka WINNING!

I WON STUFFS!!!  ^_^
Thank you Lemonhead and Plushgun & Dan Ingala!!!!!!!!!!!!


I just won an 8GB iPod Touch from an arcade machine at a bowling alley!  O_O  Played the game three times, paid $2 each time... so, sure, I think $6 is a fair price for one of these.  :-P  What the eff is going on, lately?  I've been winning stuffs, and it is all music related!  Kinda creeped out right now...

True story: right when I retrieved it from the bottom of the arcade machine, I turn around to see four little boys that I am SURE were minions of The Messican Meddler.
(links to refresh your memory: The Messican Meddler & Goodbye 2011... WTAF 2012?!).
"How did joo get that?  How many times did joo play?  Can I have eet?", and then they just continued hovering around me like flies to caca just staring at me in a mixture of awe and desperation.  For real... they asked if they could HAVE it.  Oh, yeah, sure!  Here you go, random strange street urchins that I have never met or fathered.  *sigh*  Silly chidlins.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Sesame Street, this ain't.

Random Comment:  Your welcome


Brad: Would it be rude to post this?

I love my welcome with open praise
Perhaps you might remember this phrase
"You're" is "you are", as in "you're fine"
"Your" is in possession, as if it is yours and not mine
If you switch the two, 'tis a ghastly nuisance
Use "your welcome" and I'll be looking for the rest of the sentence

Rochelle: Oh, GOD, no!  Don't post that!  That would be rude!  Educational, but rude!

Brad: But I made it into a jaunty little poem!  She could dance a jig and remember grammar better!  ^_^

Rochelle: ROFLMAO!!!

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Oh, Deven Green, how I love you; let me shpank the ways...

If you do not know who this fabulush woman is, you simply MUSHT look her up (Deven Green - Face Full of Fashion)!  You will roll on the floor laughing like a crack whore getting her first hit of the day!  This was the first "Brenda" video that I ever saw; there ARE more, but you really gotta Google for them, and I don't mean the moisht googling, either.  These are based on vanity videos that were, for lack of a better term, a meme or a fad in the 80's.  Lots of stars felt that they were SO amazing they thought they would do their fans a favor and take them on video tours of their homes, their wardrobes, diet plans, various belongings, and other little self administered ego trips.  Now, they are the sad remnants of a once radical and lush decade and the butt of many a joke.  This one in particular was a series of dubbed videos that Deven did staring the soap opera has-been Brenda Dickson called "Welcome to my Home".  Ever since they became popular, Brenda fans have written angry letters to Deven begging her to take them down.  Deven did comply, but with the rabid fan-base that had already been established, you just can't keep these videos from popping up (thankfully).  You'd think that Brenda would appreciate having her name on the lips of people once again!  Oh well.  Anyhoo, here is the first video (that I was subjected to), prompted me to become a rabid fan myself, coaxed me and my friends to play Brendaisms every time we get together (making up phrases that "Brenda" would say), and whip up my own Brendaism posts below.

Enjoy, ya buncha junkies!  ^_-


"I showcase all my handmade nighties before getting my full three hours of rest. This one I made out of doilies and cheesecloth. A waft of Gouda is so relaxing and comforful. Blue and green leopard spot backdrop?! Yesh, please! Hand on impossibly thin waist, stare vacantly, and *click*. Another successful slumber shot. I always sleep standing up, just like Macy's mannequins. Also, I never close my eyes. I don't even blink for that matter. I don't want to miss any shugar daddies that may pass my hypnotic gaze. How else am I to land that money boat? Now, if you'll excushe me, I must retire for the evening, but feel free to keep looking at me. I may be resting, but fashion never sleeps. Good night and enjoy your yum-yums."

"If you really want to make a fashion statement, and really, who doesn't, say it with shoulders! People just can't help but lishten! Don't just get shoulder pads; go the extra mile and get real shoulders like Muffy McFlat-Chest here. If you really want to make that commitment, get shoulder implants! Guaranteed to make EVERY outfit fashion. Also, pick a color that is sure to demand attention when you walk in the Grand Gala Ballroom. Take this color for example; banshee's scream salmon. You'll turn heads faster than you turn tricks! Another helpful tip is to slick your hair back with WD-40. It'll stay in place AND stop untimely squeaking. With your hair up, people can soak in every ounce of your attire; like cows to a salt lick. Moooooo. Oh dear, it looks like she dropped something. Poor thing has lost her self-reproach. She's shameless! Shee what I did there? It's called a antigdoke... antidork... a clever joke. Go ahead and use it. First hit's free."

After you soak in the videos, feel free to post your own Brendaisms!!!  Spread the joy!


Here's a bonus video; her latest and greatest masterpiece!  ^_^

Black Morning 1-11-2012

Will prolly be posting more poems on here since I have re-joined the poetry group.  Enjoy!  ^_^

Black Morning 1-11-2012

The morning cracks
Shatters my slumber
Torn awake
ripped asunder
reach for the fuel
the mug of mud
to pep me up
and rush the blood
My dark nectar
My liquid lover
My saccharin surrender
My beautiful bitter
An empty cup of hot
How I love the linger
Helps me to give
the morning the finger

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Solo Sequel 01-10-2012

I posted this on a poetry group, one that I had left a while back but have decided to join again, and just HAD to post it here for archival sake.  It is a companion piece to another poem, in my book, titled "Solo" which I will post here as well.

Yes, the Beat-Off Bard is back.  :-P

(That's BARD, not BRAD; one is clever, the other is just sad. [Hey!  there's a poem right there!  ^_^])

Solo 11-11-1999
My elusive eternal dark lover,
my right hand man,
my security blanket under the covers.
Stare dumbfounded into the night.
A solo beat rhythms my heart.
Perspire steam and salt so sweet.
A single sigh just to start.
Exotic fantasies fulfilled.
Divine desires dreamt, live.
The darker the sin, the better.
Giving it all I can give.
Ecstasy discovered within thyself.
A good singer needs no band.
Who knows you better than you?
Practice makes perfectly talented hands.

Solo Sequel 01-10-2012

The fruit of my loins
is never ripe
plucked too early
with stammering hype

A quickie, a tug
A scenario perfection
A bared solo soul
An unneeded protection

Dry, wet,
I'll take what I get
Fast, slow, 
At home, on the go

Caught in a tissue
Tossed without regret
is that abortion
or child abandonment?

***UPDATE***  A fellow group member commented on my poem with this:

Jerking the chicken
Choking it too,
Why can't the girls
Have some fun with words too?

Not a word about flowers,
Or tending a garden,
We don't even have
A good word for hard-on.

LOVE IT!!!  ^_^

Monday, January 9, 2012

I've just been Ma'am-ogram'd

Stacy:  I think I want to leave 5 minutes early and take Angelina to dance class tonight.
               (Angelina is her new sexy Corvette)
Brad:  Show off the girl, huh?
Stacy:  Yes ma'am! 
Stacy:  MA'AM?!?!?!  What the fuck?!?! 
Brad:  *looks at penis*  Ma'am?  o_0  *looks at Kiki's wig*  Never mind.  -_-
Stacy:  LMFAO!  Touche