Merry Fucking Christmas, Motherfuckers!

After today, SB's ass is off work until January 3rd. This is the BEST GIFT OF ALL. I am likely taking my laptop home, but probably won't be on the fucker much. Instead, my ass will be mostly drunk and reeking of stale cigarettes. These are a must when dealing with the fam-damily.

Anyhoo, Merry fucking Christmas, Happy damn Holidays, Festive Kwanzaa, or whatever floats your boat. To my blog family: I love your dumb asses. My life would be SO MUCH LESS without all of you in it. For once, I am NOT being sarcastic. It's not a trend, so don't worry.

Festive Wenscheslaus and Happy New Year to all (except Republicans)!

SB

My Nana taught me to be nice to kitties. This bitch needs to learn that.

We had a local guy on the news who claimed his ass has a RIGHT to public transportation. I know it's (shudder) republican of me, but I never laughed so hard in my life. My ass, his lazy motherfucking ass has a RIGHT to public transportation. Eat me, buddy.

This kitten, though, surely has a right NOT to be FORCED to ride the public transportation. The kid is a little shit. I wish the little bitch would try this shit on Puppine. That would fix her wagon. Her ass would go through her pet-torturing life with one damn eye.

I Just Like the Damn Picture, Okay?

Here's some Christmas fuckery for you bitches. A Squid Christmas. Makes about as much sense as a damn virgin birth. Yeah right.

The Extraordinary Decency of President Jimmy Carter

The Moms donated some money to the Carter Center this past year, and she received a hand-signed Christmas card from President and Mrs. Carter. What an extraordinarily decent and upright thing to do.

More Shit SB Says

A bitch is wrapped tight. You could crack nuts with her asshole.

I dropped Puppine's precious feline ass last night, motherfuckers. THE HORROR. THE HORROR.

I was trying to give Puppine the outdoor Chrismas snow experience, but her ass didn't appreciate that shit very much, and the bitch climbed up on my back. The Viking was standing there, and since it was sort of an awkward thing, to be bent over with a damn feline on your back, I tried to dump Puppine's ass off my back on to a snow-covered table. A bitch is supposed to land on her damn feet, right? Am I right?

When I went to dump Puppine's ass off, a bitch refused to get her precious feet wet, so she just fell on her side with a loud THUMP. Even the Viking, who is NOT a particular fan of Puppine's, was concerned. Half the night, my petrified ass lay awake, eyes staring wide in the dark, frightened that I had internally injured Bella Puppini. It was a damn horror, I tell you.

I Just Like the Damn Picture, Okay?

If you value your eyesight and the skin on your worthless carcass, you could never do this shit to a cat.

If you are on crack and you want to purchase this shit, here is a damn link: http://www.etsy.com/listing/62534978/cherry-on-top-dog-hat-with-pom-pom

More Shit SB Says to Her Holy Idol, Ms. Moon

The legion was fun, but it smelled like smoke. I was hoping they still let you smoke there (a legion should be smoky), but I didn't see anyone smoking. I love the smell of stale smoke--it reminds me of my grandparents. My sweet daddy found out I like chicken drums best, so he gave me HIS drumstick. His WHOLE life has been a sacrifice for me.

Shit SB Says to Her Dear Friend, Syd

My Mom's family is all getting older now, and all those bitches do is sit around and talk about their damn ailments. That shit gets old.

Shit SB Says

I think Jesus is coming back as a gay man, and he's going to be REALLY PISSED.

Shocking Shit Grandma Peg Said to My Brother and I While Watching The Damn Dukes of Hazzard

[Background: My brother Steve and I were in elementary school when this shit went down. Every Friday night, when we stayed with Grandma, we watched The Dukes of Hazzard, The Love Boat, and Fantasy Fucking Island. The plane, the goddamn plane!]

Grandma Peg: That Daisy Duke reminds me of me when I was a young girl.

Steve: Grandma, did you run around with shorts halfway up your ass when you were a girl?

[Silence.]

Like Most Everybody Else in the World, I'm in Love with Joanna Lumley

"There’s nothing better than a happy marriage, and I think there’s nothing worse than an unhappy marriage probably, so all these people who are looking for Mr Right – don’t worry too much if you can’t find him, because if he’s Mr Wrong then you’ll spoil his life and yours – so take care with marriage, you know."

Link to an excellent article on the very wise and lovely Joanna: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/7813233/Joanna-Lumley-interview-honey-and-steel.html

Shit SB Says to a Co-Worker

I have no interest in outerspace or extra-testicles AT ALL. I always figure if they show up here, it will be because they want to eat our brains or some shit. No thanks.

For Ms. Moon, Who Asked My Ass to Re-Post this Shit

Grandma Peg and the Humbel Nativity

My Grandma Peg LOVED Christmas. LOVED IT. She was nearly giddy with the glee of the damn season (SB calls it the Season of Darkness, so obviously my ass did not take after her. Also, Grandma had really big boobs, and I didn't get those either.).

Anyhoo, Peg loved Hummel figurines, which she called, Humbels, due to a slight hearing problem. (Yeah, and Elvis was Alvin Prescott, as you'll possibly fucking remember from an earlier post, but whatever. . .).

Grandma's ass splurged one year and bought herself the ENTIRE fucking Humbel Nativity. That shit was quite costly, as there is no accounting for taste, and Precious Moments figures were expensive once, too, right? Hummels and the Precious Moments make SB want to gag and bust them up WITH A FUCKING HAMMER, but again, I digress.

Before I go further, I should explain that my tiny southern grandmother was known for her eccentric decorating taste (she even wallpapered the backs of doors), and frankly, she had some fucking weird ideas about what went together. Also, a lot of her house looked like a fucking French whore house, but to her, that was GRAND DECOR, motherfuckers. That shit was posh.

Anyhoo, after purchasing the damn nativity, Grandma decided that her precious fucking manger was not showy enough and that the Baby Jesus should be spotlighted like a Barrymore in a play. After all, his infantile ass was supposed to be holy and worshipped by the animals and the damn Wise Men. He was THE POINT. He was THE STAR.

Grandma rigged a fucking Maglite to the roof of the manger, and SB's brother, Steve, would not stop making remarks and laughing about it. "Jesus Christ, Grandma, the Baby Jesus is going to be blind. How will he perform miracles WHEN HE'S BLIND?"

After that, undaunted by my brother's mirth, Grandma decided that the Humbel nativity didn't come with enough lowing beasts, so she bought some ill-sized cheap porcelain add-on animal figures that looked like they might eat the poor blinded Baby Jesus and worshipping Wise Men.

Well, of course, Peg thought that shit was JUST GREAT! Her manger would be the envy of the neighbourhood! She was SO PROUD of that cocksucking nativity, it was unbelievable. It had pride of place in the living room.

Note: My Aunt M. has the infamous nativity now and displays it every year, replete with the damn Maglite, which my brother still has to make rude comments about.

Shit SB Types to Her Idol, Ms. Moon

LIFE IS FEAR.

Shit SB Says

I think this time of year is just trying all the way around, don't you? The weirdest shit happens this time of year.

We all get OLD. Who gives a shit?

Everything is okay. My ass is just uninspired and depressed by the fucking cold, darkness, and dreaded holiday season.

I just refuse to post crap in order to keep my blog active. You motherfuckers deserve better than that. If I find something that inspires me, I'll post. If not, no posty, motherfuckers.

Happy season of dreaded darkness and familial discomfort, or Festive Wenscheslaus, as I like to say for some damn reason. My advice? DRINK LOTS.

Love to all,

SB

Shit SB Says to Her Dear Friend, West Hollywood Voyeur

I really dig Marilyn. I even have Marilyn Monroe thirsty-stone coasters (a collectible set). I shit you not. I broke one the other day and wanted to cry. Now I have a less-than-collectible set. Fuck it. They are still PRECIOUS to me, goddammit!

West Hollywood Voyeur is also PRECIOUS to SB's heart, and if you haven't checked out his highly amusing and eclectic blog, I suggest your asses do so RIGHT AWAY!
Link: http://westhollywoodvoyeur.blogspot.com/

Quote of the Damn Day: The Moms

You're practicing being an adult, and I don't know how to treat you.

[SB is 44 damn years old. I hope I am not still just practicing at it.]

Shit SB Says to Her Idol, Ms. Moon

The Viking brought me a bowl of those little pumpkin candies over for Halloween. They are still sitting on my shelf. He BROUGHT ME SOMETHING (jewelry or booze would have been better), but I couldn't bear to throw the candy away.

Love does strange things to a bitch--like making a bitch want to keep old nasty candy around and shit.

Another Fucking Quote of the Damn Day Because this Shit Made Me Laugh: Ms. Moon

[Note to SB's readers: There can be two Quotes of the Damn Day if I say so. It's my goddamned blog, and I can post whatever the fuck I want. If you don't like it, go read somebody else's crap.]

When I was in Marshall's some damn Christmas song was playing about how can it be a white Christmas if there's no snow, no snow, no snow?!! And I wanted to shout, WE GET IT! THERE'S NO FUCKING SNOW!

--Ms. Moon (SB's Idol of Greatness)

SB personally hates Christmas music (X-mas muzak is EVEN WORSE! Kill me now). It's a lot of happy fucking bullshit that just personally makes me feel bad about my own life, that is less than Martha Stewartish, and fairly nauseous on top of it. No carollers had better appear at SB's damn door OR ELSE! Those singing fucks will not be happily received.

This Woman is an Idiot

Link to story about a serial killer groupie bitch: http://www.sfweekly.com/2010-12-08/news/killer-groupie-samantha-spiegel/

Quote of the Damn Day: Tom Ford

Who SB happens to think is one of the handsomest men alive. Now that I find out he is nice to the fatties, I love him EVEN MORE. [If you haven't seen his movie, A Single Man, you really should.]

I spend most of my time at home naked. You know, most people actually look better nude. We are all one harmonious colour, with a symmetry and an innate elegance. Fat women almost always look better without the constraint and lumpy pinching of clothes, all the straps and elastic squeezing and sucking.

We are the only animal that wears clothes, and that can't just be because dogs can't do up buttons.

Siamese Dog Twins!

When it/they play(s) fetch, do(es) it/they have to take turns retrieving? Maybe the sonofabitch just throws two balls.

I Guess I'm Done Eating Eggs FOREVER

The damn Germans killed a bunch of innocent Jews and now they've gone and ruined eggs for me, too. Thanks a lot, motherfuckers.

Fuck the teeth. This bitch needs something else for Christmas.

This bitch ALREADY HAS two fucked-up front teefs, but I suggest his dumb ass needs a good smack in the head to straighten out his damn eyes and some orthodontia instead.

Count Your Damn Blessings! There, that's SB's Precious X-mas Message to All You Thankless Fucks

Willie's ass may be blind, but he surely SEES one IMPORTANT fucking point. In case you are an illiterate fucking moron, that point is: COUNT YOUR DAMN BLESSINGS! Remember: IT COULD ALWAYS BE WORSE! You know it could. I mean we thought Nixon and Reagan were pretty damn bad, and then we got two terms of W. See what I mean?

Willie is one totally blind bitch, and that's sort of a crappy, but Willie realizes that a bitch could be limbless AND blind or retarded AND blind. Got me? Willie's blind cracker ass isn't sitting around pissing and moaning about his lot in life, so why the fuck should you?

COUNT YOUR DAMN BLESSINGS!

Quotes of the Day: Jimmy Valvano

To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend some time in thought. And number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that's a full day. That's a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you're going to have something special.

Cancer can take away all of my physical abilities. It cannot touch my mind, it cannot touch my heart, and it cannot touch my soul. And those three things are going to carry on forever. I thank you and God bless you all.

A Bumper Sticker I Saw on the Farm Truck of a Damn Ohio Pinhead

Take America Back 2010!

After a small change that SB would like to make to the sticker.

Take America BackWARDS 2010!

Goodbye to a Lovely and Very Decent Woman

I thought a lot of Elizabeth Edwards. She was lovely both inside and out, and I just wanted to acknowledge her passing.

Godspeed, Elizabeth! I hope you are with your dear Wade. You have left your surviving children quite a legacy.

An Example of How Damn Fast Time Goes By

A psychotic asshole shot John Lennon 30 years ago today. I'm still depressed about it.

God bless you, wherever you are, Mr. Lennon.

Fuck Me! I Have an Unexpected Work Deadline

Dear Motherfuckers,
I won't be posting shit or getting around to any of your blogs until later in the week, due to an unexpected (fuck me!) work deadline. If this wretched Monday is indicative of the rest of my week, I may as well slit my damn throat now. My mind. is. shot.

Mondays suck ass.

Mark Olmsted Is My Idol

Mark's commentary on DADT and the mess that John McCain has become, is so spot-on, I can't stand it (link below). Like SB, Mark does not beat around the bush. I can't tell you how much I admire him. The reasons are pretty obvious. PLEASE READ (and Mark would appreciate your comments over at Huff Post).

Link to post: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mark-olmsted/dadt-john-mccain-and-the-_b_790636.html

A Tie-In Quote of the Damn Day: Kurt Vonnegut

Bill Gates says, ''Wait till you can see what your computer can become.'' But it’s you who should be doing the becoming, not the damn fool computer.

I automatically thought of this quote of Vonnegut's when I read the Foster Wallace quote below. As far as I am concerned, both men possessed two of the finest, most-humane minds that I've ever had the pleasure to encounter. This, despite the fact, that Mr. Bret Easton Ellis so seems to devalue and abhor their "Mid-Western faux-sentimentality."

Fuck you, Mr. Easton Ellis.

Quote of the Damn Day: David Foster Wallace

So I think it's got something to do with, that we're just---we're absolutely dying to give ourselves away to something. To run, to escape, somehow. . . . And so TV is like candy in that it's more pleasurable and easier than the real food. But it also doesn't have any of the nourishment of real food. . . . What has happened to us, that I'm now willing--and I do this too--that I'm willing to derive enormous amounts of my sense of community and awareness of other people, from television? But I'm not willing to undergo the stress and awkwardness and potential shit of dealing with real people.


And that as the Internet grows, and as our ability to be linked up, like--I mean, you and I coulda done this through e-mail, and I never woulda had to meet you, and that woulda been easier for me. Right? Like, at a certain point, we're gonna have to build some machinery, inside our guts, to help us deal with this. Because the technology's just gonna get better and better and better and better. And it's gonna get easier and easier, and more and more convenient, and more and more pleasurable, to be alone with images on a screen, given to us by people who do not love us but want our money. Which is all right. In low doses, right? But if that's the basic main staple of your diet, you're gonna die. In a meaningful way, you're gonna die.

SB was having some of these same thoughts while waiting in the doctor's office yesterday, watching how many people were texting or talking on their cell phones, in their own worlds. Quite frankly, it made me feel sort of sick and creeped out.

Quote of the Day: Tom Green

The victims aren't really victimized in a way that it comes off totally mean-spirited or negative, ... It's a fun, fun victimization, if that's possible.

[Tom Green and Eddie Izzard are SB's favorite comedians.]

I know I sure as fuck don't.

If I had kids, I'd buy the little bastards this, but then I don't care about children either.

We've Already Established that I'm Immature

Uhhhmmmm, Okay

I don't know about you all, but I'd buy this shit for 25 cents at a garage sale just to figure out what the fuck was going on here. Call me curious!

[Actually, I'd try and bargain a bitch down to 10 cents for this shit and only go up to a quarter if I HAD to.]

Maybe this Wonk-Eyed Bitch Can Borrow Some Glasses Instead

Buy Cody's album, so a bitch can afford a shirt with sleeves for the follow-up to this smash!

Shit SB Says

Poetry, with very few exceptions, bores the living shit out of me. Most people are just so bad at it. I used to write it, but now even my own stuff puts me to sleep. I once participated in a poetry reading and, of course, I loved that. I have this theory that all writers are dickless frustrated actors.

One of the Funniest Things I've Read in Awhile

Especially if you have dogs. Check that shit out, motherfuckers!

Link: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/11/dogs-dont-understand-basic-concepts.html

A Pair of Confident Bitches

If these two fug hos can manage to be confident, what's your damn excuse? This is for all you bitches with low self esteem. Suck it up!

Shit SB E-mails Her Idol, Ms. Moon

Sorry you had those sorts of dreams. They really fuck with your rest. I had weirdo dreams again last night, and then to boot, I woke up at about 5:00 and couldn't go back to sleep (I get up around 6:30 normally). I should have just gotten up, but when it's cold out, I like my beddy. I lay there and thought about how, if I am lucky(?), I have 20 more years or so left, and then I started thinking how quickly the last 20 went, and I got VERY FRIGHTENED of DEATH. So that shit was productive, right?

I have my follow-up appt. with the urologist tomorrow at 4:00. So today, I am keeping my Bladder Diary [I shit you not.], recording how much I drink and when I piss and how much. I feel like a fucking geriatric. Jesus.

Shit SB Says

I'm all for gay marriage. Why should straight people be alone in their misery?