Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Motorized Wheel Chair Lady with Dog and Hangy Sacks of Fat

Today, I'd like to share a sight that touches SB's cold stone creamery heart. On the way into work each morning, I pass a nursing home, and there is almost always an old lady in a motorized wheel chair with a little scroungy dog sitting in her lap. Bitch makes good time, motoring her elderly ass down the lengthy sidewalk in front of the home.

Somedays, the sight of this old bat nearly brought tears to SB's eyes. That was some touching shit raht there. But then I got to thinking that maybe the dog didn't want to ride (maybe it wanted to walk) and that maybe it was more of a hostage situation. That sort of ruined it for me. Now the old lady seems kind of sinister.

I am jealous of the old bitch's motorized chair though, I have to admit.

When I was married, I tried to talk Mr. SB into buying me one of those red motorized chairs from The Scooter Store, with a basket in front, so that I could stick a cold six-pack and some Mikesell's cheese popcorn in there. I promised that I would walk the Diarrhetic Wunderkind more often if the Mister forked over for a damn motorized chair. He wouldn't go for it, AND MY ASS DID THE HARD SELL.

I don't like to move, people, so the dog don't get walked. It's just the way it is. If I could sit on my ass and drink beer, the dog would likely get walked, especially if I attached a portable TV to the fucker (the chair, not the dog).

On another note, the landlord stopped by last night to ask me out to the porch to have a beer with him and the other landlord. I didn't have a bra on (I never wear a damn titsling at home--they are torture devices for women), and the motherfucker stared at my tits, and I don't even have that big of tits, and also I am fat right now. MEN ARE GROSS. I mean tits are just hangy sacks of fat for feeding infants (that's about the only VALID use for tits). What's the damn fascination? MEN ARE GROSS.

[NOTE: I tried to find a photo of a lady showing her fun bags on a scooter to combine the subjects of this post, but it was a fail.]

13 comments:

May said...

Is the land lord old and ugly, too? Personally, I am like catnip to homeless men, especially the really old kind with swimmy eyes and that smell like last week's laundry that someone puked in. I'm sorry that guy leered at you, but you are probably just that hot. I don't wear bras at home either, and often take them off at other people's houses too.

Sarcastic Bastard said...

May May,
The landlord is older and not fug, but not much to write home about either. He just gives off a pervy vibe. Now that I'm middle-aged, I attract the oldsters. Lucky me.

I loves ya,

SB

Ms. Moon said...

That was post was just way too full of honest goodness to even know where to begin. Don't get me started about men and roosters. Don't get me started about bras, either but I wish we could burn every damn one of them on earth. NO MORE BRAS! EVER! ANYWHERE!
Well, not near me, anyway.
Maybe you should get a golf cart, Ms. SB. You can find reasonably priced ones and you could walk your dog in one of those. Plus, more room for more beer.

afk4life said...

SB
Hehe 'your power chair will be payed in full' :p For the record, though you might have guessed, you'll never catch me staring at anyone's tits :/
Doug

downtown guy said...

Yes, and asses are just the spot where your legs end and poop comes out, but you know you look at the good ones. Tits and ass!

Sarcastic Bastard said...

Dear Ms. Moon,
I HAVE been eyeballing golf carts.

Love you,

SB

Sarcastic Bastard said...

Doug,
That's one of the reasons we'd hang--no tit ogling.

Love,

SB

Sarcastic Bastard said...

DTG,
You are the fucking FUNNIEST person. I love you.

downtown guy said...

No, you're the funniest person.

Sarcastic Bastard said...

NO, YOU ARE! It's my blog. I'm the ruler here.

May said...

I like butts.

downtown guy said...

May wrote a butt song!

Syd said...

I'm with Mrs. Moon on this post. I'm not sure what to comment. A titsling??? I've learned something today. Actually two things...a new word, and not to stare.