Back Off Or The Monkey Gets It

No amount of grandmotherly persuasion is going to keep me from slicing this primate's jugular.

(Yes, that is Abu from Aladdin)

I just felt like posting a picture of myself on this little "weblog."

Whatever, I can be an attention whore.

New Feature

Today I am going to introduce a new feature on my little "weblog" thingy here. I call it "Michael Compares Two Things That Have Nothing To Do With Each Other Whatsoever," or maybe to make it shorter I'll call it "The Faceoff." Give me some feedback if you prefer one or the other. (Seriously, please do so, it validates my existence). This little gimmick will consist, basically, of me thinking of two random ideas or objects and comparing them. And then I'll probably make fun of someone. And swear. A lot. Enjoy!

The inaugural MCTTTHNTDWEO showdown will pit BLOWJOBS against SCORPIONS!

Who will win? (I don't fucking know yet, why don't you keep reading and find out?)

What it is:

Blowjob - An enjoyable pastime involving a pair of lips (female, in my case) wrapped firmly around my cock with the mouth and tongue sucking my engorged member until I fire off several wads of baby batter into the hair and face of the blowjob-giver.
Personal Enjoyability Rating: A-

Scorpion - An exoskeleton-possessing little minstrel of pain and death. It possesses a sharp, poisonous stinger on the end of its tail and will not hesitate to fuck your world up. It's like a tiny, asshole-ish land lobster. With deadly poison. And it likes crawling in people's shoes when not being worn.
Personal Enjoyability Rating: C+

Why It Is Cool:

Blowjob - If I need to explain why getting my pole licked is enjoyable then I would also like to interest you in these magic beans I have in my pocket.

Scorpion - If you live in the desert your brain is probably already fried. Thus, you more than likely deserve to get stung by one of these petite death messengers. Also, I think its funny when people have to shake out their boots to make sure they don't have any of these critters lodged inside.

Why It's Not Cool:

Blowjob - There are teeth in (most) human mouths. Teeth are hard. And some are sharp. My penis is not a fan of sharp objects. I don't beat off with a hand full of thumbtacks.

Scorpion - Nothing much. Except that they can fucking kill you.


Any Correlation Between The Two?:

Not really. Except that a toothy beej probably hurts worse than a scorpion's sting.

Any Other Uses/Purposes For It's Existence?:

None. Blowjays are what they are. And they are awesome. Scorpions exist solely to haunt my dreams and give me the creeps when I watch nature shows.

Final Notes:

Blowjobs - Overall, very enjoyable. Wet, warm, most of the time pleasurable. Perfect way to make your lover/skeeze you brought back from the bar shut up for ten minutes.

Scorpions - Evil, vile creatures. Look kind of cool. Kill New Mexicans - which is almost as good as killing regular Mexicans. Succeed in keeping me the fuck away from the desert southwest.


Winner:

Blowjobs.

Come on, was it ever really a question? I rest my case.

Watch the fucking teeth, will ya?

A Chronological Chronicle of My Chronically Chrappy Christmas Char Charavan (aka "The Trip Through The Hell That Is Iowa During a Blinding Snowstorm")

A little late, but I figured one of you three that read this might chuckle......probably not.

Since I am a writing major, and because I write terrible things in my free time I have decided to chronicle my adventure with my family into America’s Heartland. This place, of course, is known as “Nebraska,” a land which is unfamiliar to most, but far better than the shithole known as “Iowa.” Nebraska is a flat, yet strangely inviting place….and Iowa fucking sucks. Seriously, that whole state could fucking burn and I wouldn’t so much as say “too bad.” Also, I’m pretty sure everyone there is either inbred or rides donkeys to work. I don’t really know how those two things correlate, but it is almost certainly true.

In any case, here is what I have observed on my Christmas trip to the Cornhusker State:

Saturday December 22

2:33pm – Begin travel log. It is snowy. And rainy. I’m not sure how. I hate this state. I’m not even sure which one we are in. My sister is watching the only movie that even remotely interests me. Somehow I will exact my revenge.

2:36pm – Write next entry because I am bored out of my mind. What would happen if scientists were to mate a duck with a sheep? Is it even possible? I would guess not, but in my desperate boredom these are the thoughts that cross my mind. It is still snowy and rainy. And, of course, foggy. What would the other two desolate conditions be without the goddamn fog?

2:44pm – We are driving on the bumpiest road in America. There should be a commemorative plaque or something along the side of the road alerting everyone to this fact. I think the dog just ripped his ass. He has a shit-eating grin on his face that indicates he has done something of the such.

2:48pm – I played one game of solitaire on this computer. I won. Am I a great solitaire player? Or the greatest solitaire player? I would opt for the latter. Dog definitely farted again. That little bastard.

2:51pm – Realize we are in Illinois, the black spot on America’s soul. How do I know this? Because you have to pay to drive on the fucking roads here and I looked up to see a toll booth. Also, someone decided it would be funny to play The Little Drummer Boy on the radio. Choke on a quarter Mr. Disc Jockey.

3:00pm – Fog is getting ridiculous. It feels like we are driving around in a Stephen King novel. I half expect to be attacked by pterodactyls and minotaurs emerging from the mist. Or at least one of the 28% of Illinois residents that practice cannibalism.

3:11pm - My insulin pump stops delivering insulin, the only goddamn thing it is built to do. If this happens again I am going to demonstrate a fury that is yet unmatched in the annals of human history.

3:20pm – Feel obligated to write something. I do not know why, as I am accountable to no one for the thoroughness of this log that nobody will ever read. How about I end this entry with a funny word? Sound good? Ok. Balls.

3:32pm – This is getting old. I no longer harbor any desire to see either a farmfield or a foggy farmfield, nor an overpass. I don’t even want to see snow or sleet anymore. Hard to believe, isn’t it?

3:38pm – I would kill for a wireless signal. Honestly. I would precipitate the ending of the life of another human being should that result in my ability to get online in a moving vehicle. Slightly maladjusted? Yes. But reasonable considering the circumstances? Absolutely.

4:00pm – Music from A Charlie Brown Christmas is playing. I can’t really listen to it without watching the movie. Thus, I feel an urge to break something. Or take a drink from my Diet Coke. I’ll keep you posted and alert you when a decision is made. Still foggy. Still raining. Still bored.

Did you know about the cliff in Helen Keller’s backyard? Neither did she.

Why didn’t she scream when she was falling down the cliff? Because she was wearing mittens.

5:11pm – Am currently watching a chick flick. I will be returning my balls to god anytime now. We just stopped at a Flying J and I took the longest and most wonderful piss in the history of long and satisfying pisses. I feel like a new man. I will be back with more to say after I finish my feminization process. Uggghhhh…

5:55pm – I am a little more than halfway through the movie. I hate myself. There is no internet anywhere in Iowa. Jack Black is not singing for Tenacious D, but rather playing a faggy piece of douche in the movie I’m watching, and the worst part of all of this is that I am actually mildly enjoying the flick. It is snowing like crazy in this god-forsaken state and apparently the windshield wipers on the vehicle in which I am riding have ceased to function. Please, whoever is reading this, shoot off a prayer to whichever deity you deem fit to watch over me and my family. Balls. Hahahaha.

7:05pm – I just died a little bit inside. Jack Black, as far as I can tell, is now almost as queer as RuPaul. I absolutely wasted the last 2 hours of my life watching The Holiday. If I could take them back they would be better spend punching myself in the face with brass knuckles. As it stands, it is currently snowing like crazy in this desolate wasteland known as the Iowa Territory. I am still unsure if it is colonized, or even habitable. I cannot see how anyone could survive here. I don’t think they have electricity, and running water is certainly not available. The heathens in Illinois are not even as uncivilized as the nomads that surely inhabit this “state.”

7:16pm – I just heard the beginning of the Rod Stewart abomination “Do You Think I’m Sexy” and I now have an even greater desire to shoot myself. The snow in Iowa is coming in fucking sideways. What the hell? Balls.

7:52pm – Just ate at Subway. Happy Gilmore would be proud. He probably didn’t have to deal with the blinding snowstorm that nearly killed me on the 20 foot walk from the car to the fucking restaurant, though. If that former fatass Jarod says anything I will punch him in one of his floppy jowels.

9:01pm – Holy shit it has stopped snowing. Unfortunately we are still in Iowa, so everything is relative. This is like contracting AIDS in America. You still have AIDS but its not in Africa. Being in Iowa without snow is like contracting AIDS outside of Africa. I hate this place. Hahaha, balls.

9:37pm – I’m watching the 3^rd Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I’m well aware of how mind-numbing this drive is. This movie sucks. It sucks hard. Also, my ass has fallen asleep. Both sides. I never thought I would say this, but I really hope we get to fucking Nebraska really soon.

10:10pm – I just ate a chicken sandwich with the dog. You read that correctly, I just ate a chicken sandwich from Burger King with the dog. I ate it while he stared daggers through my soul and begged me without words to give him some. Needless to say, I caved. I fed him pieces of the sandwich as I ate. I hate him.

12:30am – There is wireless internet service in the motel. I think I might have to take a pass on killing someone tonight.

1:34am – Fuck it. I’m going to bed. More tomorrow.

3:35am – Woke up. Can’t fall asleep. Nebraska is still infinitely better than Iowa.

Sunday December 23, 2007

3:54pm – Hanging out with cousins Connor, Cade, and Grant. All of whom are under the age of 9. I have heard the word “fart” at least 50 times in the last 20 minutes. The wireless internet which was previously available for theft is no longer available at my grandparents’ house. At least the kids are cool. Fart.

more to come....possibly