Friday, April 30, 2010

Say Something NICE, Motherfuckers!

Uhhhmmmm. . . nice pose?

Sick Memaw Shit

I'm in love with my grandson! WTF?

"From the first moment that I saw him, I knew we would never have a grandmother-grandson relationship,' Pearl remembers happily. 'For the first time in years I felt sexually alive."


Link to important and highly newsworthy story at Dlisted:

Shit SB Says

You know the Indians thought you only had so many words and when you used them up, you died. You're asking for death. Shut the hell up.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Quote of the Damn Day: Robert Downey Jr.

"It used to be that you could throw me out of the back of a party van on to the set, give me a tuna melt, and I could function."

[Amen to that shit. Robert and I are getting old now. It sucketh mightily.]

The Ballad of Colton Harris-Moore

Link to story in Outside online:

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Shit SB Says in Blog Comments

The Duggars are a bunch of damn nuts. That woman is just crazy for putting her vagina through the trauma of that many births.

Sprint, You Suck

Injustice REALLY pisses me off. If I had Sprint for a telephone provider, I'd cancel my damn service.

Link to story:

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Einstein on Religion

In 1929, Einstein told Rabbi Herbert S. Goldstein: "I believe in Spinoza’s God, who reveals Himself in the lawful harmony of the world, not in a God Who concerns Himself with the fate and the doings of mankind."

"I do not believe in a personal God and I have never denied this but have expressed it clearly.”

In a letter to philosopher Erik Gutkind, Einstein remarked: "The word God is for me nothing more than the expression and product of human weakness, the Bible a collection of honorable, but still purely primitive, legends which are nevertheless pretty childish."

"I'm not an atheist and I don't think I can call myself a pantheist. We are in the position of a little child entering a huge library filled with books in many different languages. The child knows someone must have written those books. It does not know how. The child dimly suspects a mysterious order in the arrangement of the books but doesn't know what it is. That, it seems to me, is the attitude of even the most intelligent human being toward God."

"I cannot conceive of a God who rewards and punishes his creatures, or has a will of the type of which we are conscious in ourselves. An individual who should survive his physical death is also beyond my comprehension, nor do I wish it otherwise; such notions are for the fears or absurd egoism of feeble souls."

Quote of the Damn Day: Samuel Clemens

Familiarity breeds contempt - and children.

Friday, April 23, 2010

Vivienne Westwood: Because I Dig Her

Shit SB Says in a Blog Comment to the Lovely Ms. Moon

The neighbor doesn't know shit. Purple houses rule! His boring ass probably drives a beige car, and he likely has a very tedious sex life, as well. I love judging others! I'm damn good at it, too. SB can peg a bitch.

I Just Like the Damn Picture: Rufus Wainwright and Fan

It's been a rough year for Rufus. He lost his beloved mother, Kate, to cancer and composed and staged his first opera. Poor ambitionless bastard. Laugh.

I pre-ordered his new CD All Days Are Nights: Songs for Lulu and received it yesterday. Interesting stuff. Not nearly as "pop" as past CDs, if you can categorize Rufus at all.

I've read a handful of lousy reviews of All Days Are Nights and to these reviewers, I say: Fuck you. Rufus at his worst is better than most people at their best. Eat me, knob head reviewers! Suck it. How dare you criticize genius, you bunch of base fuckwits???

Link to order CD at Amazon:

Another Interesting Story: Hunting Dr. Feelgood

Dr. Moos just got busted by the feds for botching some plastic surgeries in Dubai.

I ran across this article about his earlier career. Link:

This Story Sickens Me

Hard to believe this stuff still goes on in this day and age. I remember reading about this young woman's death and being horrified. Here is a link to a lengthier article on her murder by her father.


Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Shit SB Says in an E-mail to Her Brother in England

Are you going to Hyde Park? I dig Hyde Park. Sometimes you can even see nude titties there. In America, women don't get their tits out in public spaces. It's unfortunate. We're very repressed over here, you know. The country was founded by Puritans. What else could you expect?

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Shit SB Says

I'm sitting here eating kettle-cooked potato chips, waiting to see how long it takes the guy in the next cube to strangle me.

Quote of the Damn Day: George Carlin

"I have as much authority as the Pope, I just don't have as many people who believe it."

Jesus Was Fun to Be Around

This shit below [not the photo above] is from a Christian pastor's blog. It made me laugh. And also, I am mean. Personally, I've read the New Testament, and I don't remember Jesus saying one funny thing. Comments in brackets are obviously mine.

The idea of Jesus as a comedian might seem a little unusual, even heretical or disrespectful. But the more I read the Gospels, the more firmly I conclude that Jesus was probably the most effective user of humor and comedy than any communicator who's ever walked the planet.

I also believe that Jesus was one of the most fun leaders in history. While not necessarily obvious in the Gospel text, I believe that crowds followed Jesus everywhere because, among other reasons, Jesus was fun to be around.
[Really they only followed His ass because he could make wine at will. SB would have followed his Holy Ass, too!]

These two facets of Jesus's personality, his use of humor and his fun nature, challenge me as a youth minister and youth ministry consultant, since one of the most pressing questions facing youth ministry practice is about the place of fun and entertainment in it. [Fun and entertainment have no place in religion, trust me.]

I'm a firm believer that the way Jesus used humor and fun can be a model for us. If we can embrace how Jesus used humor and fun and apply it to our own contexts and circumstances, I believe we'll find an amazingly positive expression of the gospel and faith as we seek to share and communicate the good news with people, especially young people. So let's look at these often unsung facets of Jesus's nature to see if we can find some ideas for an appropriate theology of fun in ministry.

Jesus Invented Humor
[Actually, George Carlin did.]

Jesus was likely a very funny guy with a most amazing grip on humor. After all, he invented humor. Since we're made in the image of God, and laughter and humor are profoundly important parts of our makeup, I would guess that in their relationship, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit probably have a good laugh together every now and then. [Do you suppose the Holy Spirit laughs, or does He/She/It actually guffaw?]

You've Gotta Admire the Ingenuity

From The Sun in England this morning.

A DAD has been given a three-year ban for drink-driving in a TOY CAR.

Paul Hutton, 40, went for a spin in a tiny battery-powered Barbie jeep - top speed 4mph - while twice the booze limit.

But a police patrol car spotted 6ft Paul crawling along the road on the modified 4ft by 2ft motor, with his knees tucked under his chin.

They stopped him near his home in Jaywick, Clacton-on-Sea, Essex, around 9pm.

Electrical engineering student Paul had sunk a few beers while working on the kiddies' toy - which he found dumped and had rebuilt.

The divorced dad of four admitted drink-driving and was banned for three years by Colchester JPs because he had lost his licence before.

He said later: "I put bigger wheels on and could not resist the temptation to take it out. I was a twit."

I Just Don't Seem to Have a Post in Me

Dear Motherfuckers,

Just a quick note to explain the absense of a meaty post this week so far. I just don't have anything of interest to share. Sometimes, I feel like the responsibility to post is a damn albatross around my neck, and I have enough birds hanging off me, so I just refuse. All this is to say, I'll post when I'm damn good and ready. Wait for it or not. Do what thou wilt, that shall be the whole of the law. That's Aleister Crowley's Law, by the way. I ripped him off. Doesn't that make things easy? One commandment: do whatever the fuck you want. A bitch could live with that. Much easier than 10 HARD commandments (and I've broken nearly every one, might I add, just to be honest).

That's Crowley in the photo above, by the way. Wasn't he cute? You can be a Satanist and cute, motherfuckers. I did a report on Crowley in high school. I grew up in a small Christian midwestern farming town, and I liked to get motherfuckers all worked up. Still do.

Sarcastic Bastard

Thursday, April 15, 2010

More Shit SB Says

If my ass gets any bigger, somebody is going to plant a flag in my bunghole and call it the 51st state.

Wooly Drinky Birdy (for Syd)

The Sarcastic Bastard Mission Statement

This site is pro-lesbian, pro-gay, pro-transgendered, pro-transvestite, pro-wool fetishist, and pro-primordial dwarf. In SB's world, there is room for everyone*. If you don't like it, fuck off.

*Except conservative republicans and evangelical Christians. They can piss off, too.

Quote of the Day: Eddie Izzard on the Tory Party

They [the Tories] just want to take all the money and spend it on themselves and live in big houses and then have ducks and duck ponds.

If you put the Tories in, they might have this new thing where they say ‘Oh yes, we’ll be nice to kittens’, but you know it’s the Tory party.

If you look back through the history of the Tory party, have they ever been nice to people? No. They’re nice to themselves. That’s why they joined the Tory party. They want to help themselves move forward and be richer and have duck ponds.

So basically, the Tories are republicans. [I refuse to capitalize republican.]

I adore, Eddie Izzard, by the way. He is my favorite comedian. And also, he's cute, with or without makeup. Cake or death?

Shit SB Says in Comments

PIONEER WOMAN SUCKS BIG DICKS! Her fucking blog puts me to sleep.

[p.s. I hope I get a lot of haters coming over here from Pioneer Woman to defend that bitch's honor. MORE BLOG TRAFFIC!]

Larry King, the Geriatric Turtle, Is Out of Control

Now, this is journalism, people!

Link to Dlisted:

Personally, I think he looks more like a damn frog. Ribbit!

A Blast from the Past: The Hardy Boys

SB was a HUGE Sean Cassidy fan! I had posters, albums, all that shit. It is obvious that I was attracted to very manly men. Look at the chest on him! WOWSA.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Kelly Bensimon IS GROSS

Bitch, GET OUT OF THE DAMN SUN! That shit's nasty.

I Started Back on My Anti-Depressants Today

And I am feeling quite sick to my stomach. Of course, I didn't start slowly back. I went right back to the full dosage. SB is an EXTREMIST kind of ho.

Olivia Newton-Dad

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

SB Recommended Show: Kirstie Alley's Big Life

I had a bunch of episodes of this show DVRed and just started watching them the other night. I really like it. Highly recommended. Two dicks up.

Kirstie and SB have similar personalities, foul mouths, and WAY TOO MANY PETS. We also both like to eat. I dig her.

Okay, I Feel Worse Again

I went home for lunch, and I whacked both Puppini and Mercer (my two favorite cats), because Puppine started to use my new cruising bicycle tire as a damn scratching post (AGAIN) and Mercer puked (AGAIN). I had just cleaned up one dried-up vom spot that I had found, then I found two more BIG pools of vomit in the damn bathroom and was cleaning those motherfuckers up, when Mercer started fucking gakking anew in the damn living room. I know Mercer can't help having to puke (she has stomach issues; always has), but I JUST LOST IT. I totally lost my shit! I even told Ginger, who was merely a hapless shivering bystander to my cat-induced anger, that I was going to post the whole lot of them on Craig's List (or Greg's List, as my friend mistakenly calls it). NOT ONLY THAT, but I was going to post all of them as: FREE TO GOOD ANIMAL EXPERIMENTATION LAB, instead of the usual: FREE TO GOOD HOME. I am awful. I hate myself. I need to get my sorry fucking fat ass to anger management classes.

I am this woman, but fucking whiter and a whole lot fatter.

Why does it feel SO GOOD to lash out and slap a bitch when one is angry? Maybe we can ask Dr. Oz!

Now, I will have to feel AWFUL until after work, when I can go home and apologize and love all my critters up. I TOTALLY FUCKING SUCK AS A MOTHER. I AM AN ASSHOLE DICKWAD SHIT-FOR-BRAINS CUNTWAGON. And it makes me feel only-slightly-better to confess all of this to the ENTIRE WORLD on my blog.

Also, I will not be opening a pet daycare anytime soon.

Okay, I Feel Better Now

I always feel better after I visit Ms. Moon's blog. I stole her picture (above) so youse all could see WHY I feel better.

If you motherfuckers want to feel better, too, I recommend a trip over to Ms. Moon's blog. Although she doesn't need help drumming up any business (she has more followers than I do), here's a damn link:

If Not Now, When?

There were some strange dreams last night, compliments of the sleeping pills I took before bed. [I can sense your eyes glazing over because other people's dreams are so damn boring. But I'll post whatever I want, because it's my blog.]

I dreamt of my best childhood friend, Angie--probably because I have been negligent and need to give her a call. I am overdue. I always dream of Angie when I am shitty about staying in touch. It's as if my soul says: Okay, enough, we need her, CALL!

I also dreamt of Frank Sinatra, playing the piano. He was middle-aged and was singing a song called If Not Now, When? I don't know whether that is an actual song or not. It could be. I could have picked it up subliminally from my grandparents' tremendous record collection and not realized it. I could never write standards, because I couldn't be sure if I was ripping some old songwriter off or not, due to the intensive childhood exposure to that sort of music. I guess I could Google the song title [I don't Bing. Bing sucks.], but I don't really care enough to pursue it.

Anyway, I wasn't sitting with Frank at the piano [what a thrill that would have been!]. I was just an observer. A fly on the wall. But somehow, I knew he was singing about Bobby Kennedy and the fact that he was dead prematurely and would never be president.

It's a strange thing to be an American and to be of a certain age. It must be even more strange to be old enough to actually remember the assassinations of JFK and RFK. John was shot before I was born, and Bobby was shot when I was only a toddler, so I have no real memory of the events, but I am still genetically wired to carry a specific grief over those two men, so much so that it comes forth in my dreams at times.

I have a theory that if you are an American of a certain age, you carry the two lost brothers, and their loss is so prevalent, that it is hard-wired into your very bones and cells. You carry them, but of course, nobody carried that load like their poor brother, Teddy, who is lost to us now as well. God bless him. I'm not particularly religious, but I feel compelled to say that whenever I remember certain people, and this includes the Kennedy brothers.

On a tangible level, I remember the morning the Moms awakened me to the news about JFK, Jr. I blinked the sleep from my eyes and sat up in bed as she announced that John Kennedy Jr.'s plane was missing. It was a bright sunny Ohio morning, and I was not too panicked initially, because I fully believed they would find John, sitting on an island somewhere or floating on a piece of aircraft debris. I counted on a hero's rescue and a good story that the media could glom onto when he ran for president one day. I didn't really entertain the thought that fate could be so cruel as to strike down another young Kennedy male with so much promise.

You know how that story came out. I carry that loss, too. It is a part of me, as much as the other brothers are, because John was my contemporary. I grieve his loss, and I feel pissed that John was cheated.

I have no real point to this post. Sorry to tell you that if you've made it this far. I just wanted to tell the story of my dream, and maybe in the telling, to partially exorcise the sadness of the morning. So far, it's not working.

I just feel grieved today, and I think the damn dream was the culprit.

Monday, April 12, 2010

More Shit from Dad

"I found some shit in your room...No, I found actual shit. Feces...Well I should hope it's from your shoes, otherwise what the fuck?"

Link to Shitmydadsays:

Way to Go with the Ad Campaign Taco Bell

Just what we fat-assed Americans need--a FOURTH meal. Jesus.

Shit SB Says

Joe Biden sent me an e-mail this morning, and it went to the junk folder. That shit makes me laugh.

Friday, April 9, 2010

I Just Like the Damn Photo: DFW and Dog

SB Is No Longer Accepting Blog Awards

My ass is too goddamn popular, and I can't keep up with the awards postings anymore, so I'm not accepting anymore awards, unless they involve money, alcohol, drugs, or sex. Also, I'm too damn lazy and selfish to pass that shit on, so even though I appreciate the thought, NO MORE AWARDS, motherfuckers.

I less than humbly thank you.

The Happy Cupcake Award from My Dear Friend Christina

SB has received a Happy Cupcake Award from the lovely and very fashionable Christina of the smashing Fashion's Most Wanted. Link:

The conditions of this award are that I have to list ten things which make me happy. Ten things that make me miserable would be easier, so I'm doing that shit instead. Laugh. You motherfuckers know SB is a damn rebel! The rules DO NOT apply to my precious ass.

10 Things That Make Me a Miserable Cranky Bitch

1) Mornings
2) Cell phones (especially personalized ringtones!)
3) SUVs
4) Republicans
5) Jehovah's Witlesses
6) Loud Noises (including fireworks and dogs barking)
7) Being sober
8) Neighbors who fucking look in my windows (this includes small children)
9) People (who are not family) who pop by my house without calling first
10) Christmas (Season of the Damned)
11) The song Stairway to Heaven (If I have to listen to that shit again before I die, it's too damn soon.)
12) Talking to people from India, who I can't fucking understand, when I call my credit card company

I know it's MORE than 10, motherfuckers. I can fucking count! I just got carried away.

Thank you, dear Christina! You are a wonderful friend and my fashion inspiration.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

An Oh My Blog! Award from My Dear Friend Jeannie

SB's less-than-humble ass received an Oh My Blog! award from the lovely Jeannie of Going incognito. Link:

One of the options for receiving this award is to define the soundtrack of my childhood. I will list a number of soundtrack items below.

1) The theme song to Gilligan's Island sure as fuck defined my childhood. SB watched EVERY FUCKING EPISODE of Gilligan's Island multiple times a day. I am still attracted to fat friends, because I am always looking for my Skipper. [Remember, I was a VERY SKINNY kid. That made me Gilligan, motherfuckers. Yes, I am sexually confused, but you know that already.]

2) My mother's screams. I was forever running off to a neighbour's and not wanting to come in for dinner and a bath. Also, I got in a lot of trouble, like the time my friend Pat and I threw marshmallows in the windows of a squad car. We were in a tree, damn it. We didn't notice the lights or the emblem on the damn car!

Also, Pat and I called the elderly neighbour man a goddamn baby. Again, the Moms screamed at my ass.

And also, when my cousin, Rob, and I cut Daddum's leather riding mower seat with an old knife we found in the garage. The Mom's was pissed. BITCH SCREAMED. That was like in stereo, because Daddums screamed, too. It was tag team screaming.

3) The sound of police car sirens. We lived a few houses down from the Lee family. They were a bunch of juvenile delinquents, many of whom now reside in the state penitentiary. One of them wanted to date me (I always attracted highbrow men), and in order to woo me, ate a Daddy Long Legs spider. It didn't work. Me no wantum date little Timmy Lee.

Okay, that was a handful of the sounds which made up the soundtrack of my childhood.

Thanks for the award, Jeannie. SB loves you so! You are one of my best Canadian friends (along with Sweden).

So Far

So far, I don't have DICK to say today. Nada. If that shit changes, I'll post later on.

Love to all,
(Well, not republicans or the conservatively religious. They've got JESUS LOVE, they don't need mine).


Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The Old Bag on the Right Is Clearly NOT a Brangelooney


Personally, I'm going to run home tonight and add this photo to my Angelina shrine.

Shit SB Says in a Comment

I can never match all the fucking socks [from the dryer] up either. Where do they go? Is there a sock heaven or some shit? Or, does somebody else, someplace else on the planet, get my damn missing socks? That shit boggles the mind.

Apologies to You, Motherfuckers

Some of your comments are getting wiped out when I hit the button to publish them. Fuck you Blogger. Apologies to those who bothered to type a comment and then didn't get it published. SB is not the one censoring you. We are AGAINST censorship here. CENSORSHIP IS FOR REPRESSED PURITANS and republicans. Same difference.

Shit SB Says

Yes, I know there is an apple sitting on my desk, next to a pack of smokes. I've always been conflicted.

GORP ALERT: Untuck the Damn Shirts!

I only remember ONE THING about visiting Wall, South Dakota, on vacation as a kid. A bunch of bikers came in the restaurant where we were having lunch, and the Moms got REALLY WORRIED that the bikers were going to KILL US. I remember calmly telling the overly-frightened Moms that everybody knows that bikers won't hurt you, unless you mess with them first.

[Note about photo: You just know the second kid from the left, who might have been mildly hot if he had ever gotten some sort of fashion help, grew up to be a computer geek, who made lots of money, but still tucked his shirt in WAY too tight and wore unfashionably outdated eye wear.]

Is Oral Sex, Sex?

Follow the link below to the article that prompted this post. I found it interesting. I am 43, and I don't consider oral sex, sex. I do consider it cheating (when done outside of a monogamous relationship), but I don't equate it with full-on sex.

Your thoughts?

Link to article:

One Tahred Motherfucker

The Viking is wearing my ass out. We had sex and then argued about the Civil War. Good thing he's got some good-old-good-old, because we are not in agreement on the recent unpleasantness, as they say down home in Savannah.

Anyhoo, I am ONE TIRED MOTHERFUCKER today. But, somebody brought in homemade-from-scratch cake today, so there's that. A bitch has got to count her damn blessings! That's ONE, motherfuckers. Some poor bitches have NONE, so I'm doing okay comparatively.

I'm mostly eating the icing on the cake and throwing the actual cake part away. I only really dig the icing. If any of you fuckers mainly like the cake, we could hang out at parties. Let me know. We could swap cake for icing and shit. I don't want to hang with a bitch that covets my icing. I also don't like chocolate cake, only white. I'm a white-bread-cracker-ass motherfucker. I like white cake, white ice cream, and Wonderbread.

My sweet friend, Jeannie, gave me an award (thanks Jeannie!), and I am working on that post. So sorry I'm a slag, Jeannie. I do appreciate receiving it from you. I'm just a lazy motherfucker this week. Okay, every week. Whatever.

Hope all of you motherfuckers are having a good week. SB sends her love.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Sometimes Our Pets Embarrass Us in Front of Company

I Just Like the Damn Photo

We've all been there, so don't be acting all precious and shit. YOU'RE NOT ANY BETTER THAN FRANZIA GIRL! Your friends just didn't happen to have a damn camera handy.

Today's Wisdom from Shitmydadsays

"Don't start a story with This is SO funny. Be like saying My dick's huge before you screw. Even if you're right you sound like an asshole."

Another Foster Wallace Quote

"There’s a kind of queer dissatisfaction or emptiness at the core of the self that is unassuageable by outside stuff. And my guess is that that’s been what’s going on, ever since people were hitting each other over the head with clubs. Though describable in a number of different words and cultural argots. And that our particular challenge is that there’s never been more and better stuff coming from the outside, that seems temporarily to sort of fill the hole or drown out the hole.”

“Personally, I believe that if it’s assuageable in any way it’s by internal means. I think those internal means have to be earned and developed, and it has something to do with, um, the pop-psych phrase is loving yourself. It’s more like, if you can think of times in your life that you’ve treated people with extraordinary decency and love, and pure uninterested concern, just because they were valuable as human beings. The ability to do that with ourselves. To treat ourselves the way we would treat a really good, precious friend. Or a tiny child of ours that we absolutely loved more than life itself. And I think it’s probably possible to achieve that. I think part of the job we’re here for is to learn how to do it. I know that sounds a little pious."

Another Quote

This one is by David Lipsky, who is coming out with a book on an early road trip he took with the late author David Foster Wallace, called: Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself: A Road Trip with David Foster Wallace. I've already ordered an advanced copy on

"I’ve kept thinking of something David says near the end of the trip. “There are all kinds of reasons for why we’re so afraid. But the fact of the matter is, that the job that we’re here to do is to learn how to live in a way that we’re not terrified all the time. And not in a position of using all kinds of different things, and using people to keep that kind of terror at bay. That is my personal opinion.” For me, that’s the line I think of, as the difference between “I love you” and “You are loved.” It’s giving something without wanting anything back. It’s the warmest thing in the list of lessons learned by the residents at Ennet house."

[Note: Ennet House is a substance abuse facility that features in Foster Wallace's epic novel Infinite Jest.]

Quote of the Damn Day: David Foster Wallace

“I was really stuck. And drinking was part of that. And it’s true that I don’t drink anymore. But it wasn’t that I was stuck because I drank. I mean, it was more that—and it wasn’t like social drinking going out of control. It was like, I really sort of felt like my life was over at twenty-seven or twenty-eight. And that felt really bad, and I didn’t wanna feel it. And so I would do all kinds of things: I mean, I would drink real heavy, I would like fuck strangers. Oh God—or, then, for two weeks I wouldn’t drink, and I’d run ten miles every morning. You know, that kind of desperate, very American, ‘I will fix this somehow, by taking radical action.’ And, you know, that lasted for a, that lasted for a couple of years.”

"I was sort of a joyless drinker. I think I just used it for anesthesia. I also remember, I mean really buying into—I don’t know how much you yourself escaped this. But it’s fairly hard to get a book taken when you’re in grad school. And to get a whole lot of—to get your juvenile dreams fulfilled real fast. I think I had this idea of: you know, went to Yaddo a couple times. And I saw that there’s this whole image of the writer as somebody who lives hard and drinks hard. You know, is found in amusing postures in gutters and stuff. And I think when you’re a kid, and you don’t have really kind of any idea of how to be what you want to be, you fall for these sort of cultural models. And the big thing about it is, I don’t have the stomach or the nervous system for it. I get really, really drunk. Then I’d be sick for two days. Like sick in bed, like a bad flu. Just kind of debilitated.”

[I can relate to this on so many levels, especially the American radical action thing. It's such a part of my personality, so deeply ingrained.]

Monday, April 5, 2010

Thursday, April 1, 2010

I Think There is an Obvious Comparison Here

Shit SB Says

I was out on the deck at lunch, and I looked up, and the NEW NEIGHBOURS FROM HELL had hung a cross over our shared porch/entryway. Tonight, my American Humanist Association sticker is going out on my front door. It says something like: More Americans do not believe in religion than those who do. I am a non-believer.

FUCKERS. I am so mad. THIS IS WAR!

SB Anal Sex Poll Results

Sadly, those for butt fucking lost.

A new poll will be posted very soon indeed.

NEW SB Feature: Big Shlong of the Week

[I'm really just doing this to mortify the Moms, but this shit is respectfully dedicated to my idol, Ms. Moon, who gave me the idea inadvertently. Thanks Ms. Moon!]

Caption: Even a guitar can't hide Bowie's GINORMOUS junk!

Jesus Use Me

This one is for my brother, Hank. I'm going to laugh about this shit all day.

Bitches are unattractive, to say the least. Look at the damn chin on the one on the right. Ho rivals Jay Leno.

My guess is bitch on the left used to be a man.

New Shit from Shitmydadsays

"I didn't say you were ugly. I said your girlfriend is better looking than you, and standing next to her, you look ugly."

The Happy Family of Chinese Menu Fame

Or The Deliverance Family. Whichever.

A Healthful Breakfast & the Contents of Robert Plant's Jeans

So far today, I've had a large frozen Coke and a white cupcake with buttercreme icing. What did you motherfuckers have for breakfast today? I'm sure whatever it was, it felt short of my healthful fare. This bitch is buzzing on a sugar high, motherfuckers!

On a happy note, while the ex-husband and I were warned NEVER to be in a relationship by Chinese astrologers--in fact--I think the exact DIRE warning was: A HORSE AND A RAT MUST NEVER MARRY!, the Viking and I are looking good. Our signs match up as potential "soulmates" (which I don't believe in--can you say, "TOTAL HOLLYWOOD BULLSHIT"?) and also for "fiery sexual chemistry." YES, JACKPOT! I'm shallow and that's all I care about--the sexual chemistry.

I think most astrology is bullshit to quote Jim Morrison. But the Chinese astrology warning about the ex and I was so uncannily accurate, that I had to look the new guy's sign up. Horses and Dragons = GOOD SEX.

I am sofa king relieved. To quote Robert Plant, "I can breathe again."

p.s. If you have never seen a young Robert Plant in low-cut jeans, you ain't lived. I watched a Zeppelin DVD recently and got to giggling so much at his pants, my face went red. Photo above is my new computer wallpaper. You're welcome, ladies.