hey hey hey boo boo

Archive for the ‘Death by Irony’ Category

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[insert trite man joke here]

In Death by Irony, Fantasy on October 9, 2009 at 2:23 pm

L writes,
we need to re-up on DBI; i was reading it again tonight and it is funny, relevant and necessary.

M writes,
funny
i was thinking the same thing
sort of
well not really
i was really thinking that i want to write some now but i can’t write for dappjuice
cause i don’t feel like being intelligent
i feel snarky and cynical and would prefer to look down my liberal wingnut nose at everyone

L writes,
i just fucking love you.

M writes,
i thought the world was off-kilter
but it turns out to be an ok place to live after all
playboy_marge

L writes,
ROFLMAO
one of the “girls” in our vegas trip was marge simpson’s sister – raspy voice et al -
i’ll have to send you the vid (if i didn’t already)

yeah – the world isn’t too bad a place, as long as you don’t have to raise anyone, clean poop or otherwise have responsibility -
next life i’m gonna be a militant lesbian with relationship issues, and who has no interest in cooking.

M writes,
next life i want to be june cleaver or marge simpson
they are both women who are fulfilled with their lot in life, have husbands who pay for everythign and can do whatever they want between dropping the kids off at school and when hubby comes home.
i can’t remember either of them ever doing laundry…

L writes,
yes, you are correct -
reality sucks and cartoonism rocks.
unfortunately, reality bites the proverbial cartoon arse.
and even so, i’m seriously considering leaving chris with mark and moving to sf to be with my cab-driver/musician fantasy wannabe, and blowing off any semblance of normalcy i may have left between now and the next twenty five years…
unless someone gives me a reason not…

which, i don’t see happening.

M writes,
sadly, after a month,  the cab-driver/musician fantasy wannabe will fart in bed, ignore you when you speak and want a blowjob after taking the garbage out.

L writes,
sadly, cabdriver-musician wanted a bj long before garbage day, (which i didn’t provide due to TMJ issues) neglected to take the garbage out after a home cooked dinner and farted in the car on the way to golden gate park.

i want a wife.

M writes,
i want a cookie.

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Chain of Events

In Death by Irony on May 18, 2009 at 12:15 pm

Stepping away from politics for a moment, I’ll wax poetically about purpose, the universe, and the old cliche, ‘All things for a reason.’

It had been a long, high energy, mostly sleepless weekend, and by Sunday evening my stress level had reached critical mass. We were meeting up with my parents for dinner at the Outback, and I looked forward to having a nice cold glass of white wine and a hunk of cow, as I was craving a little protein.

Anyone who has ever been to the Outback steakhouse knows that if you don’t get there by five, you will undoubtedly have a forty five minute wait. We left the house at a quarter till and arrived just before the rush. After fifteen or twenty minutes we were seated at a table next to the bathroom. As we were about to sit down, I caught a waft of what smelled like a combination of Pine Sol and urine. I flagged down the hostess and told her we needed a different table. Another twenty five minutes later, we were seated again. Somehow though the piney uriney scent had settled in my nose and wouldn’t leave. I ordered a glass of wine and downed it in two hits. “I’ll have another, please.”

I won’t go into detail about the rest of the dinner in attempt to preserve family harmony and peace, (and my own ass) however, suffice to say that by the end of dinner, after almost winging a hockey puck at the waiter who tried to convince me it was a hamburger, I was close to imploding, and just wanted to go home and get into bed. After, that is, I sprayed once more for the fleas.

It became apparent to me about an hour after we got home however, that I wouldn’t be getting to sleep anytime soon as I was still too agitated. My husband was busy working on some estimates and it looked like he’d be up for a while. I had some work to do too and I holed up in my office and shut the door.

There are strange noises at night, but you get used to those that are part of your house and your life. The ice maker, the fridge, the hum of the ceiling fan, the turbine on the roof. As I sat in my office working, I could hear a faint hiss of what sounded like air being let out of something but chalked it up the compressor in the back of the little fridge in the laundry room and paid it no attention.

An hour became two, then three and soon it was two am and my contact lenses were sticking to my eyeballs like glue. Time, finally, to go to bed. Surely I’d be able to sleep tonight. And as I opened my office door, all cozy in my sweat pants and fuzzy slippers, I stepped down the step, and into a puddle of water easily a foot deep.

The hot water heater, the EIGHTY GALLON hot water heater, the one we’d put in a year or so before to insure that no matter how long a shower the kids took, I’d always have hot water for my shower, had sprung a slow leak and was now trickling it’s way through the house. I woke my husband who had fallen asleep, head down on a pile of estimates, and being the good little contractor he is, went to the shed and whipped out his handy-dandy-new-and-improved-super-duper-turbo-charged shop-vac. It was going to be a long night.

I tie this all together by deducing that, if not for all the people that PISSED ME OFF this weekend and contributed to my foul mood, I’d have happily gone to bed at a normal hour, only to wake up to eighty gallons of water in my house. As it was, my husband was able to replace the valve (gotta love a guy who can do that in the middle of the night) and we all had hot showers in the morning.

And anyone who knows me, knows that if I dont get a hot shower in the morning, someone is going to get hurt. Seriously hurt.

Everything for a reason.

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Cigarettes and Xanax

In Death by Irony on May 14, 2009 at 10:35 pm

L writes,
Death by irony :
when you have a whole pack of ciggies
and no lighter.
just kill me now.

M writes,
Luckily i quit smoking in 2004 so i don’t suffer such trauma anymore…

L writes,
i hate you
and i say that lovingly.

M writes,
maybe i should take up smoking
my latest rant
i call it art therapy
see rage-murder-and-xanax

L writes,
I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
but i still hate you!
Lovingly, of course…


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even geshe ben is his own worst enemy

In Death by Irony on May 1, 2009 at 12:42 pm

‘The 12th century master Geshe Ben was renowned for his goodness and integrity.
Once, while begging for alms, a family of devout Buddhists invited him to their home to be fed. He was so hungry that he found it difficult to wait while his hosts were elsewhere preparing the meal. To his complete shock he found himself stealing food from a jar when no-one was looking. Geshe Ben suddenly burst into loud cries of “Thief! Thief! I’ve caught you red-handed.”
His hosts rushed into the room to find him berating himself and threatening his hand with being cut off it ever behaved like that again.’

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change is inevitable, except from vending machines.

In Death by Irony on April 29, 2009 at 3:58 pm

What did the Buddha say when the hot dog vendor asked him if he had change?

Change must come from within.

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i agree with homer.

In Death by Irony on April 29, 2009 at 3:51 pm

QUESTION:

Why did the chicken cross the road?

KINDERGARTEN TEACHER: To get to the other side.
PLATO: For the greater good.
ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross roads.
KARL MARX: It was a historical inevitability.
TIMOTHY LEARY: Because that’s the only trip the establishment would let it take.
SADDAM HUSSEIN: This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.
RONALD REAGAN: I forget.
CAPTAIN JAMES T. KIRK: To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.
HIPPOCRATES: Because of an excess of phlegm in its pancreas.
ANDERSEN CONSULTING: Deregulation of the chicken’s side of the road was threatening its dominant market position. The chicken was faced with significant challenges to create and develop the competencies required for the newly competitive market. Andersen Consulting, in a partnering relationship with the client, helped the chicken by rethinking its physical distribution strategy and implementation processes. Using the Poultry Integration Model (PIM), Andersen helped the chicken use its skills, methodologies, knowledge, capital and experiences to align the chicken’s people, processes and technology in support of its overall strategy within a Program Management framework. Andersen Consulting convened a diverse cross-spectrum of road analysts and best chickens along with Anderson consultants with deep skills in the transportation industry to engage in a two-day itinerary of meetings in order to leverage their personal knowledge capital, both tacit and explicit, and to enable them to synergize with each other in order to tachieve the implicit goals of delivering and successfully architecting and implementing an enterprise-wide value framework across thecontinuum of poultry cross-median processes. The meeting was held in a park-like setting, enabling and creating an impactful environment which was strategically based, industry-focused, and built upon a consistent, clear, and unified market message and aligned with the chicken’s mission, vision, and core values. This was conducive towards the creation of a total business integration solution. Andersen Consulting helped the chicken change to become more successful.

LOUIS FARRAKHAN: The road, you see, represents the black man. The chicken ‘crossed’ the black man in order to trample him and keep him down.
MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.: I envision a world where all chickens will be free of cross roads without having their motives called into question.
MOSES: And God came down from the Heavens, and He said unto the chicken, “Thou shalt cross the road.” And the chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.
FOX MULDER: You saw it cross the road with your own eyes. How many more chickens have to cross the road before you believe it?
RICHARD M. NIXON: The chicken did not cross the road. I repeat, the chicken did NOT cross the road.
MACHIAVELLI: The point is that the chicken crossed the road. Who cares why? The end of crossing the road justifies whatever motive there was.
JERRY SEINFELD: Why does anyone cross a road? I mean, why doesn’t anyone ever think to ask, What the heck was this chicken doing walking around all over the place, anyway?”
FREUD: The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.
BILL GATES: I have just released the new Chicken Office 2000, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbooks. Of course, you also have to purchase Microsoft Road.
OLIVER STONE: The question is not, “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Rather, it is, “Who was crossing the road at the same time, whom we overlooked in our haste to observe the chicken crossing?”
DARWIN: Chickens, over great periods of time, have been naturally selected in such a way that they are now genetically disposed to cross roads.
EINSTEIN: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road moved beneath the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.
BUDDHA: Asking this question denies your own chicken nature.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON: The chicken did not cross the road .. it transcended it.
ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die. In the rain.
MICHAEL SCHUMACHER: It was an instictive maneuver, the chicken obviously didn’t see the road until he had already started to cross.
HOMER SIMPSON: Mmmmmm…..chicken….

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    Nothingness

    In Death by Irony on April 29, 2009 at 3:42 pm

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    little victories, big dicks

    In Death by Irony on April 27, 2009 at 10:41 pm

    i wonder if women, deep down inside, envy men their ability to fill their enormous egos with little victories.

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    we all know how this ended.

    In Death by Irony on April 27, 2009 at 10:36 pm

    What did the zen-master say to the New York City hotdog vendor?
    Make me one with everything.

    uh huh.

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    10 signs the universe hates us

    In Death by Irony on April 27, 2009 at 10:21 pm

    1. bees. if they were only here to pollinate and make honey, they wouldn’t have stingers and people wouldn’t be allergic.

    2. mosquitoes. if they were only here to feed frogs then they wouldn’t suck human blood. they would suck the blood of something else that sucks blood. that would be the fair and balanced way.

    3. natural disasters. if we didn’t destroy lovely pristine places just to build homes and shopping centers and didn’t try to live in places we don’t belong living, the natural disasters may not affect us so greatly.

    4. dwindling resources. nature is said to be perfect in providing for that which we need. ie: the more an infant needs to nurse, the more milk it’s mother will produce. This is true with any mammal. that said, then it should stand to reason that the more people we have on the planet and the more we need to sustain ourselves, the universe should be able to provide for that. maybe it just plain doesn’t want to anymore.

    5. ann coulter. a species in and of herself.

    7. it’s gotten so tired of us digging big holes in the earth and burying our trash in them, that it has figured out a way to get us to spend our hard earned money on something as simple as water, drinking it from something so artificial as plastic, so that the water we drink to keep healthy is sure to give us cancer.

    8. cable tv that costs way too much, goes out consistantly and never has anything on worth watching.

    9. great drugs available at any time and the myriad laws against them.

    10. republicans.