Questions 67 and 68

Time to give away hints for another of The Joker’s evil plots to the good guys!

My longtime blogging friend Merby was recently nominated for The Sunshine Blogger Award and, in accordance with its rules, posted a list of oddball personal questions for any of her readers to answer.  I don’t normally play along with these award challenges, and in fact, won’t really be “accepting” or “nominating” for this one either.  However, since she’s going through a bit of a difficult time right now, I thought the least I could do was try to humor her in my own unique way and spend an otherwise boring Sunday morning by providing my typically smartass answers to these pressing questions she posed…

I’ll get the shit slapped out of me for this…

1. If you could meet one deceased famous person, who would it be?

Who in the hell would want to meet a dead person, even if it was the decaying corpse of someone who was once famous?  Oh, you mean I’m supposed to pretend the dead celebrity was still alive?  Like Keith Richards?  Hmmmm, I’m not much on celebs.  How about the founder of my long time employer, Sam Walton?  I’d love to ask him if he foresaw the fucked up mess his pride and joy would have turned into 25 years after his death…

Excuse me, can someone help me get these paper towels off the top shelf? Hello? Anyone working here?

2. Do you have any tattoos and if so, are any of them offensive?

No.  I am a blank slate, and would prefer to stay that way.  I think that also makes me a rebel by today’s standards…

Don’t juge me! Only God will juge me…

3. Do you believe that fat bottomed girls make the rocking world go round?

No, but fat bottomed squirrels most certainly do…

Come sit down beside the red firelight…

4. What’s your favorite Beatles song? (Please add a 250 word essay explaining your reasons.)

No essay… my posts already run long enough.  But the Beatles had so many songs, this is kinda hard.  I remember my Mom found a list not long ago that ranked every Beatles song in order based on how good it was, and the song that ranked next to last was “The Ballad of John and Yoko,” which I absolutely love!  What the everloving fuck?  I’ll pick that one just because it seems to get no respect…

It has to at least be better than actual Yoko music, right?

5. What was your first Halloween costume?

I have no idea if my parents dressed me up for Halloween as a baby.  I would hope not since that is cruel, pointless, and a completely selfish thing that parents do only to please themselves (see also: dressing up pets)…

I had to do a lot of digging on Google to rekindle a fragmented memory, but the first Halloween costume I ever remember wearing (probably at Age 6 or 7) was something called the Wunkin Punkin…

God, it was even worse than I remembered…

Apparently, these Kooky Spooks costumes were big in the early 80’s, and an alternative to the shitty flame reatrdant jumpsuit/rubber band attached plastic mask licensed character costumes that were the standard of the day.  I honestly hope the photos of me in this thing are lost forever.  The first of only two occasions I’ve ever had nasty ass makeup on my face…

6. Have you ever picked anything up using your feet and toes because you didn’t feel like bending over?

I’m sure I’ve tried before since I’m getting to that age where bending over sometimes seems like it’s entirely not worth the trouble, but my toes aren’t quite prehensile enough to pull it off.  I did often hit the power button on my old hard drive (RIP) that sat on the floor with my big toe whenever I would wake up in the morning on my nights off to save some strain on my precious vertebrae…

Sometimes, the little piggies are actually useful for something other than getting painfully stubbed.

7. Have you accidentally farted while on a first date?

Since my next date will be my first, I can’t really answer that question.  But I’ve audibly broke wind more times than I can count in awkward public situations… usually trying to quietly pass what will refuse to come out as anything but a roar.  I’ve managed to cut loose in front of customers at work before… but then again, a customer once sneezed point blank in my face and whizzed right on by with her cart like nothing had ever happened.  That’s a bit more rude than cutting the cheese around others…

And apparently, you should also cover your vomit.

8. Did you know that the bird is the word? (Everybody know that the bird is the word.)

Birds suck.

Nasty little photobombers…

9. Do you always wash your hands after you use the lavatory?

No.  I try not to piss on my hands, and my crotch is probably cleaner than your dog’s mouth.  This hand sanitizing habit is more paranoia being spread by the germophobe crowd who are going to have the human race’s immune system so susceptible to germs after decades of heavy antimicrobial use that only the people who refuse to wash their hands ten times a day will survive the Great Pandemic of 2069…

And the dogs who spend all day licking their balls.  They’ll survive.

10. Do you agree that people are strange, especially when you’re a stranger?

Everyone is strange.  Why do we call people we don’t know strangers anyway?  How do we know they’re stranger than us?  Maybe they have tattoos and actually wash their hands after they tinkle like everyone else…

And finally……….

11. Do you tidy up the table before you leave a restaurant or do you give no fucks?

I scrape as much of my nasty ass food mess up as I can when I eat.  Hotel maids are paid to clean up after people.  Restaurant employees are not.  They have many other important things to do besides picking up the fucking disgusting, half-eaten mess you couldn’t be bothered to haul five feet to the nearest trash can.  After years of dealing with lazy ass customers who can’t put their unwanted items back where they belong, I would never force another service worker to have to take time to do something that it is just common courtesy to do for myself…

Thank you for being so considerate, sir. We’ll make sure to leave the “secret sauce” off your Big Mac next time…

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Posted in Squirrel Droppings | Tagged , | 14 Comments

Hanging By A Thread

Squirrels will do just about anything to avoid my evil camera.

When we were all much younger and stupider braver, a lot of us climbed trees to pass the time in a pre-cellphone world.  Tree climbing is not a skill that is inherent in humans, and at least in civilized culture isn’t particularly necessary for our survival.  Squirrels, on the other hand, are the masters at climbing trees.  It is a part of their arboreal nature.  They can do some amazing maneuvers in the trees that astonish us from the ground, but would make us lose our lunch if we were up there with them.

If you decided to get a little crazy today and went out to climb that tree in your backyard… would you dare to scale a branch as thin as the one this squirrel is treating as if it were an OSHA approved ladder?  I don’t think it would take much weight to snap that twig at the base… but squirrels either have an excellent understanding of weight distribution, or they really are lighter than air despite the acorn-fed bellies they occasionally appear to be sporting.

Regardless of the physics or magic involved in this death defying tribute to childhood, The Nest would like to honor this week’s Saturday Squirrel for attempting a climb that would have even made Sir Edmund Hillary wet his breeches…

Have a great weekend everyone!

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Blame The Squirrel

Bwahahahaha……… ZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!

Late Monday morning right before I was ready to hit the sack, my power went out.  This was followed a second later by a very loud explosion.  Having been through this enough, it was easy to put the two together and realize that a transformer had blown up somewhere nearby.  Maybe the on in my backyard.  There was only one way to find out…. look for the dead squirrel.

Blargh! I’m dead!

Only there wasn’t a dead squirrel to be found (Nor is there one in the photo above, if you thought I was being macabre).  OK, the transformer must’ve blown up somewhere nearby.  Either way, I’m stuck without the ability to run my white noise fan which means no sleep until someone gets out here to fix things.  Well, the power guys finally showed up almost two hours later… and sure as heck, they head right for that pole in my backyard…

transformer

Highly paid professionals at work. Do not attempt this at home…

They have this big, long pole they use to fix the issue from the ground.  The first thing they did with that pole was dislodge the fried squirrel who didn’t drop to the ground because he got trapped atop the transformer…

He’s dead Jim!

Alas, poor kamikaze squirrel… we hardly knew ye.  There is no time to mourn, however, as I need to get some sleep so I can fill up the counters at Mecca with delicious, overpriced Halloween candy…

Not this shit from Halloweens past… I think it’s finally been banned by the FDA.

So I wake up that evening, fire up the ol’ desktop, and……

Um………………

(Keeps hammering the power button)

This isn’t good….

It’s dead Jim!

Apparently the abrupt power loss or power gain finally did in the only desktop computer I have ever had at my nest.  Eight and a half years of service, reliability, and familiarity all up in a puff of smoldering mange.  I had just splurged to replace my eight year old laptop a couple weeks ago, and now I was finally forced to do the inevitable and upgrade my main computer as well.  When it rains, it fucking pours…

Oh no, you have first world problems! Boo fucking hoo, douchebag!

Apparently, all we bother to sell off the shelves at Mecca anymore is Hewlett Packard desktops.  My family once had a computer where the hard drive just up and exploded.  It was an HP.  I’ve heard a lot of bad things about HP computers, but wasn’t in any position to pay more elsewhere, and I refuse to order anything expensive that has to be delivered to my home online.  So, the HP it is…

It fits in perfectly with my nasty ass computer desk, doesn’t it?

I kept the old keyboard because I needed something I was familiar with, plus the new one looked too much like the crappy keyboard on the little red laptop that I can’t type worth a shit on.  And so, unless I dig out the archaic laptop for old times sake, it’s goodbye to the Vista OS format that is the only thing I ever used since 2009.  I loved the Firefox layout for Vista.  I don’t have enough vulgar words to properly express what I think about the Windows 10 look.  I expect a menu at the top of the screen with words like “Files” and “Bookmarks” and such that will bring up nice, crisp, clean dropdown menus for me to select what I want from.  Why do I have to open a second dropdown menu to have access to all of my 69,000,000 bookmarks now?  Did someone outlaw simplicity at Microsoft?

cute kitty

Oh, hey! I can see the rest of your bookmarks if I lay like this!

One of the main reasons I wanted to hang on to the old laptop as long as possible was for arting purposes.  Having to purchase a new version of Photoshop is bad enough, but the bread and butter of what I use for everything from drawing to resizing images is good ol’ MS Paint.  And to say the newer version of Paint is absolutely fucking useless would be like admitting the content of my blog is just a little bit messed up. I’ve already fixed that problem by finding a download for an older version of Paint online, though it’s the old XP edition that I haven’t used since Dubya was in office.  At least the ten year old version is useful, whereas the Win 10 Paint is like Kim Kardashian… 99.9% looks and 0.000000000001% practical.

The remaining percentage is made up of fillers….. like birdshit.

The loss of my familiar art programs has pretty much killed off my so far futile attempt to revive the missing Thursday comic series for the time being.  Oh, and uploading photos is going to be a real joy since this desktop has the hard drive built into the monitor and all of the plug-ins are in the back.  So I have to pull out the big screen monitor just to hook up the USB cord.  Heck, even the power button is a pain in the ass to operate!  it’s located underneath the monitor on the left side and is level with the base, meaning that every time I want to turn my new play toy on, I have to feel underneath the screen to find the damn thing like I was trying to find the hidden button to open a secret passage…

I found it!

And speaking of great 80’s movies…. you know what else bugs me about Windows 10?  The fact that it feels the need to pop up a message to let me know every time a program I put on my computer wants to do something.  Yes, I know the photo uploader wants to start running because I just hooked up a whole camera full of squirrel pictures I’d like to put online.  Yes, I would like to install the program off the disk I personally put into your optical reader.  Yes, I can wipe my own ass, thank you.  It’s like having my very own Col. Sandurz around to let me know my computer is preparing to do something and is awaiting my acknowledgement so it can take even longer for it to actually get that done…

Preparing preparations for preparing to prepare, sir!

Once I get all my old bookmarks back, those old passwords figured out, and find a way to make sense of this horrible mess of a layout…. I guess I’ll get used to it.  After all… it’s not all bad.  I no longer have to deal with a computer whose speed can be measured with a sundial, videos on YouTube have mysteriously stopped randomly buffering, and I can actually play games again that work just like they’re supposed to!

Unicorns for the WIN!!!

I guess I’ll survive, even if the squirrel who put me in this position didn’t….

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His Cheatin’ Heart

How many drug tests did you fail, Lance?

So this post is just a little late.  You can thank a squirrel…. or maybe whoever hired that squirrel to sabotage the countdown that has everyone on the edge of their seats ready to have their musical taste insulted.  I’ll explain more about what happened tomorrow…… but back to the already tardy business at hand first.  Yes, it is Wednesday, and it’s time for me and those record smashing ponies to reveal the next song that just isn’t all that in my Top 30 Iconic Songs I Just Can’t Stand countdown!  So far, we’ve tarred and feathered one classic each from the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s… and while it’s hard to call any songs from the New Millennium classics just yet…. there are certainly those that stand out from the crowd and have their cult following.  This is the first of five songs I’ll hoist on their own petard that was composed in a year that begins with a 2.  Here’s our first naught from the aughts…

#27. “Before He Cheats” – Carrie Underwood

There are many, many reasons to despise the long running king of reality talent shows, American Idol.  Forcing Ryan Seacrest into our living rooms just a tad too much, somehow making Paula Abdul relevant again, boring us to death with the most predictable unpredictable pregnant pauses, making it cool and lucrative to fail miserably in front of a worldwide audience…

This seems so mockable, but on the other hand, it probably sounds better than Chipmunks singing.

Oh…. and sometimes, on very rare occasions, the young men and women who would compete for the chance to sign their lives over to Simon Cowell would actually go on to have a real music career once the last fraudulent phone vote was cast.  One of Idol’s most successful alums was Season Four winner Carrie Underwood, who out-countried a whole bunch of other forgettable names that my Mom once had crushes on in 2005.  A year later, she recorded the song that would become her biggest pop crossover success… the anthem of every girl ever scorned by a guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants…

This glorification of vigilante vandalism was a #1 hit on the country charts, and made it all the way up to #8 on the Hot 100 chart that takes into account radio stations people actually listen to.  On its face, it’s really not that bad of a song…. but it eats at the one thing that will get my goat and turn me into the raging, murderous psychopath that I portray an innocent teddy bear to be…

Wow! That felt great!

You can call me any name in the book, yank my chain, make fun of my taste in squirrels and even laugh at my shelf full of unicorns.  It won’t bother me in the least, and I’ll probably get a good laugh out of it.  But for your sake and mine…….. please…….. and I mean PLEASE………. do not…….. EVER……. fuck with my stuff!!!  I mean it!  Accidents will happen, but if you willfully put a scratch in my already battle scarred piece of shit car…. I just might have to forgo my wimpy side and kick your fucking ass.  I once made a federal case out of my cheap $2 tumbler I drink out of at work getting pitched by a maintenance worker who was a little too thorough in cleaning out the break room…

Time to run somebody’s balls through the shredder!

If you can even somewhat comprehend how pissed off I will get when something I own is deliberately defiled, then you might understand why this song sounds like nails on the chalkboard to me.  Not that I would ever be cool enough to date someone like Carrie Underwood, but if I did, and somehow had the even better fortune of meeting some bimbo in a bar, I’d…….. well, I’d better not walk out and find my non-existent pickup truck looking like I had left it parked in the middle of some peaceful protest.  There are no delicate words to describe the feeling of rage I would have towards the foolish person who did such a deed, even if I might have deserved it….

Hulk SMASH!

Join me again next Wednesday as I take a Louisville Slugger to another overrated song…

Posted in Iconic Songs I Hate Countdown | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 27 Comments

Let The Kitties Take The Stage

Well. It’s nice of you to turn around and notice us for a change.

While I very much like to work alone, sometimes my cats decide that I’d enjoy myself much more if they were around to bother me.  Here you see Ody (the black and white blimp) and Biskit sprawled out on the two cheap Mecca end tables I have in my computer room waiting very impatiently for me to lavish them with the attention they seem to think they’re due.  Of course, you probably recognize those two tables as my most frequently used “stage” upon which the antics of my Shelf Critter Theatre productions come to life.  This is why I must barricade the door whenever I am creating the next critterized testimonial for why I should be institutionalized, because laying down on the floor is too good for my spoiled cats… and I don’t need one of them crashing a scene.

I thought this table always smelled like unicorn!

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