April 11, 2013


I just turned 31 years old! I wonder how many pickles I've eaten? Who cares, do it for the love of the game.

As you might be able to tell, and you probably can't because let's face it, this thing is no, I haven't been an active blogger lately. There are many reasons for this, none of which I'll disclose, so use your imagination and try to include a scene of me rescuing a foxy princess from a sand beast in a post-apocalyptic desert world where the only currency is fists. 

I just got a new job, a new wife in September, a new bed and I've been into mustard lately, so I feel like it's almost time to turn the page on this blog. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop punching out hit after hit, it just means I'm going to do it elsewhere, probably Stay tuned for an official announcement. I wanted to prepare you and your browser for a potentially stressful re-work or your bookmarks/favourites bar/menu/tab. 

While I still have the keys to the old girl, why not take her out on the water and run over some whales? It's time to check the headlines of the Bonkersville news. Here we go!



If there are any big advancements in gay rights this month then I just made a million dollars by copywriting the best possible headline a right wing tabloid rag could ever use. If you're a journalist and have found this page by Gooing the headline to make sure no one else has thought of it, then please email me your deets and we'll figure out how you can get me my money. And if you prefer to pay by autographs, keep in mind I collect those of famous puppeteers. It's called business and it was perfected by the Ancient Greeks who would sell dirt to poor people at sword-point while chewing a gum made of olives and clay. 



My last round of calluses were so perfect. I got them by rubbing my fingertips over a piece of sandpaper pinned to the inside of jeans. Co-workers figured I was either searching for change or "makin' sure my dick is still there" if you know what I mean. There's nothting more satisfying than getting a callus and not working for it. It's the get rich quick scheme of manual labour, or something like that. Because I haven't been shredding my guitar as much and because my wife told me "no more sandpaper until you finish making me perfume", I've totally lost my calluses and need new ones. I'm thinking of finding a different guy who has good calluses and somehow finding a way to give him smooth low five after smooth low five. I didn't know how to properly describe the move, but it's the one where you slide your hand over the other person's.



I bet that when microwaves first came out kids would remove their warmed feed and claim to mommy that they could see it glowing what with the radiation and all.

"Mommy, mommy, my potato is glowing from the mycowave!"
"Maybe we should put out Christmas tree in there and then we wouldn't have to buy lights"
"I'm having a hard time keeping track of all your bullshit, mom"

Three great headlines, three great stories, one reasonable man. The other night I was trying to think of a new Twitter About Me section, one that's not supposed to be stupid, and I came up with:

"I never want to give anyone the right to be mad at me"

That sums me up better than 4 sums up 2 and another 2. After I was scared that I mentally stole it from someone, but I don't think I did. It's simple, effective, organic and local. 

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