Friday, April 29, 2011

It No Workee

When I'm drunk and the pigs pull me over and threaten to take my ass to jail for DUI, this is sometimes my response. It no workee.

What in Sam Fuckin' Hell?

EPIC chapeau FAIL.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Another Worthless Asshole Who Likes to Starve Dogs

I'm all for starving this sonofabitch while he's in the pokey.

Shit SB Says in Comments to Her Gorgeous Friend, Christina

I considered joining the Hare Krishna's in my youth, but then decided I don't look good with that short of hair. Almost no one does.

Peep Tableaux Art

[In a comment to Ms. Moon.]
p.s. I hate Peeps. Fuckers are nasty. I do enjoy Peep art though, where they pose the Peeps in tableaux. Maybe I'll post some of that shit.

Here you go. Link to a shitload of Peep art for you motherfuckers:

Shit SB Says to a Co-Worker

The Royal Wedding is going to be a great show. NOBODY KNOWS PAGEANTRY LIKE THE ENGLISH! NOBODY. What have we got to compare over here? The damn Superbowl? I think not.

Two Nice Kids are Getting Hitched on Friday. I Wish Them Well.

SB's groggy ass will be up VERY early, watching the televised coverage Friday morning on BBC America. Like many, I watched William grow up, and I am very proud of the good man that he has turned out to be. He is sweet, respectful, hard-working, smart, tender, and conducts himself in the best manner possible. He is a great brother and a wonderful son. I expect that he will make a fine and considerate husband. I adored William's mother and know how very proud she would be of him. Rightfully so.

I expect that William will be one of the most beloved kings of all time, and I wish William and his lovely bride all good things.

I just hope Tara Palmer-Tomkinson's nose makes it through the ceremony.

A GROSS Morning (from an e-mail to Ms. Moon this a.m.)

My morning started off GROSS. I came down the steps, half-a-damn-sleep, and six of the cats were gathered round and attacking something over the grate in front of the fireplace. At first, in my sleep-foggy horrified mind, I thought that shit was a REALLY skinny snake of some sort (I was already planning a move), and then, I realized it was originally probably about a 6-inch nightcrawler, who had been traumatized and stretched to about 10-fucking-inches by the six overly-interested cats. What sort of worm Karma would a motherfucker have, to wind up in my house with 7 fucking cats and a diarrhetic dog? I gathered about 8 yards of paper towels up and scooped that long skinny sorry motherfucker up and deposited his traumatized entrails-hanging ass outdoors. Fucker’s a goner, I’m pretty sure. A bitch had bad dreams most of the night, and I hadn’t even had a sip of damn coffee, when I to handle all this! Christ, I hope this is NOT an indicator of the day ahead of me.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

David Foster Wallace on Depression

It is a level of psychic pain wholly incompatible with human life as we know it…a sense of radical and thoroughgoing evil not just as a feature but as the essence of conscious existence…a sense of poisoning that pervades the self at the self’s most elementary levels…an unnumb intuition in which the world is fully rich and animate and un-map-like and also thoroughly painful and malignant and antagonistic to the self.

It seems to me that this is one of the truest and best descriptions of depression I've ever read.

Shit SB Says in Comments to Her Brother, Hank

Trust me, the cat is thinking: I'd like to eat that motherfucking hat.

I know that I was a large cat in a former life. I size everything up as to whether it would make a good meal or not and whether I can take it down if it's living. I'm quite serious too. All of my friends are smaller, just in case. [Okay, I kid about that part.]

To view the picture and Hank's wonderful and witty photo blog, click the fuck here:

[And if you comment, comment some nice complimentary shit, or SB is going to fuck you up.]

Monday, April 25, 2011

I Just Like the Damn Picture, Okay?

Shit SB Says in Comments to Her Buddy, Akannie

To be honest, I didn't even remember it was Easter, until the cashier at Kroger's told me to have a nice holiday. I'm not religious and we don't get a day off work, so whoopteedoo. I'll probably be struck by lightening at lunch.

Friday, April 22, 2011

All American women should read this.

Another Picture I Just Damn Well Like

Ines de la Fressange

I Just Like the Damn Picture, Okay?

How could you not like Marlon? He liked to fuck with people, plus he dug cats and food. And if you were an especially good friend, he might call you at night and wake your unworthy ass up to sing to you. Imagine the honor of that!

My favorite Brando story is that Marlon was trying to lose some weight, so he asked his housekeeper to lock the gate to his estate so that he couldn't go in to town for food after the housekeeper left for the day. Sometime during the evening, Marlon got hungry for some McDonald's, and since he couldn't get off the damn estate, he phoned the local McDonald's and offered to pay a worker there to drive up the hill and throw him a bag of burgers over the estate wall. That shit is American ingenuity at it's finest.

I love you, Marlon, wherever you are. God bless you.

Words and phrases that SB hates. If you use them, you are most assuredly a DORK.

Hubby. This fucking word gags the shit out of me. If you use it in my presence, I will contemplate punching you, and then will look for the closest escape route to take my fat ass out of your immediate vicinity.

I also hate when a woman is pregnant and she or her husband says, "We are pregnant." Bitch will find out REALLY quickly on the delivery table that her damn husband is decidedly NOT pregnant.

The kid has good genes. Definitely.

Tuki Brando. Marlon's grandson.

SB is a HUGE fan of Marlon Brando. One of my most treasured possessions is an autographed copy of Marlon's autobiography.

I love Professor Ellen Lewin.

Another FUCKER.

SB hates his pussy cry-baby ass. Fuck you, Boehner. Fucking emo douche bag.


Shit SB Says to a Co-Worker

The Moms was telling me that there is this guy in their mobile home park who records The Kentucky Derby and then replays it over and over because he likes to cheer on the winner. Uhmmmmm, okay. I damn well hope I have something better to do than this shit when my ass retires.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Quote of the Damn Day: Ahnold Schwarzenegger

I feel shitty when I look at myself in the mirror. I'm not competing, I'm not ripping off my shirt and trying to sell the body . . . when I stand in front of the mirror and really look, I wonder: What the fuck happened here? Jesus Christ. What a beating!

I'm with Ahnold.

Sorry, but I think she's built GROSS.

I wouldn't be caught dead on camera in a bikini if I looked like this. NO WAY. NO HOW. I know, I know--she's a healthy-sized girl. I still think she looks GROSS. Go ahead and give me a bunch of shit for it, but it's the God's-honest way I feel.

The Way it Is this Week

We have a new phone system here at work, with A LOT of damn problems, and SB is having some not-so-pretty financial issues currently. For this reason, I am a bit preoccupied and posting will be very light this week. Unfortunately, I likely won't have much time to visit other blogs either. Please forgive me. I will be back in a more full capacity, hopefully, next week.

I hope all of my blog family are well.

You are loved,


Friday, April 15, 2011

Your Lesson for the Day: What Physical Beauty Is Actually Worth

It's worth SQUAT. So you'd better have some damn substance to back that shit up when it goes, motherfuckers. Got it?


One of SB's Favorite People in the World; Not Least for His Suave Fucking Dress Sense

And don't y'all be making fun of John Daly either. He's a good old southern boy, and we share a hearty love of Miller Lite and cigarettes. Seriously, I adore him. I'll even watch golf if the motherfucker is playing, and frankly, my fat ass would rather watch paint dry.

I understand that Daly once opted to lose weight with an all Miller Lite and steak diet. The odd thing was, he actually dropped quite a bit, FAST. It might be the diet for me. That shit might actually be DOABLE. Of course the steak would get expensive, but I do have a source at the Ohio State Patrol office who could hook me up with some fresh roadkill. THAT COUNTS, MOTHERFUCKERS!

Shit SB Says

If you have a half a damn brain in your head, and I realize this leaves a lot of people out of the equation, growing older will make a grumpy bitch out of you.

[The photo is for Ms. Moon.]

Quotes of the Damn Day: Lou Reed

There's a bit of magic in everything and some loss to even things out.

Uhhhhmmmm, Okay

I'm sure Sarah Ferguson was just thrilled to sit next to Digby's plastic ass. Who wouldn't be, damn it?

War IS Insidious for Damn Sure: RIP Clay Hunt


I Just Like the Damn Picture, Okay?

Possibly the COOLEST married couple EVER. Too bad they never procreated.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

So Val Kilmer is old and fat. So am I. Who gives a shit?

It happens to us all, kiddies. He looks just fine to me, God bless him.

Shit SB Says in Comments to Her Beautiful and Fashionable Friend, Christina

This is, so far, my favorite collection of photos. You did a great job! I loved all of them, except for the freaky-deaky Joan Crawford one. That bitch scares me. Actually, so does Bette Davis with her damn googly eyes. Yuck.

I sometimes chase the cats around with a hanger, sreaming: NO MORE WIRE HANGERS EVER! I can tell they are secretly thrilled by it.

Link to said fabulous collection of photos:

If you haven't yet checked out Christina's fabulous blog, get your asses over there NOW, you bunch of shiftless lazy fucks.

It's a Beautiful Damn Day in Buttfuck, Ohio

I have my tacquitos for breakfast, with Taco Bell hot sauce to dip them in. What more could a bitch want? Surely this is the definition of HEAVEN.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Give this bitch a damn vitamin!


She has recently been eating pieces of couch cushion 15 times per day and consumes the equivalent of a throw pillow each week.

Thanks for all of your birthday well wishes! My cold stone creamery heart was touched.

Sadly, after much vigorous and extended birthday merriment, my fat ass is back here at work on a damn Monday, with a fucking deadline. It should all be behind me by Wednesday morning, and then I will be back to regularly posting and commenting on all of your blogs.

Mondays suck ass.

Friday, April 8, 2011

While Shopping for a Damn Diet

. . . .The book also instructs dieters to eliminate alcoholic beverages during the initial stages.


What in GD Hell Kind of Outfit Is this Shit Right Here?

As the Moms would say: Doesn't she have a mirror?

A happy update on Patrick the Pit Bull, left for dead in the trash chute by that monster asshole, Kisha Curtis

BIG THANK YOU to the entire staff at Garden State Veterinary Specialists for taking such good care of our boy!

As if being seen at Walmart isn't humiliating enough. . . .

Police wouldn't reveal how long he was trapped inside the [Walmart] restroom, but said the industrial adhesive was so strong they couldn't unstick him there.

Instead, they had to unbolt the entire toilet seat and take it, with the man still attached, to Union Hospital, Cecil County.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

I'm 45 and this is who I'm turning into.

Norman Thayer, for you damn idiots who haven't got enough brain cells to figure it out. My grandfather was A LOT like him, except he wasn't as cheerful or nice.

If you haven't watched On Golden Pond, you ought to. You might learn something. But I doubt it.

You know what I'd like to do with your cell phone, right?

I hate personalized ringtones because they are almost ALWAYS too damn loud (because most people think the choice they have made is SO DAMN CLEVER, they want to share it with the world!), and the electronica ones just sound terrible. We have one lady here in the office who has "DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD," which plays SO LOUD when her phone goes off, I'd like to fucking smack her dumb ass. The people who choose actual songs piss me off, because I don't like to be subjected to other people's (usually bad) musical tastes. Let's face it, everybody thinks they have excellent musical taste, but so few people ACTUALLY DO.

Bet you're glad I replied to this in the morning, when I am such a goddamn cheerful person.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

What a Loser

And to think I once thought this man would make a great president. As Ms. Moon would say, "I don't know shit."

I'd Still Hit that Shit. You Betcha!

SB has a thang for Russell Crowe. Fat or skinny--doesn't matter. LOVE HIM.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

More Shit SB Says to Her Friend, Sweden

I HATE cell phones. I would like to shove cell phones up people's asses. I especially despise personalized ring tones. Whenever one goes off in the office, I fantasize about beating the phone owner over the head with their phone until blood runs. Seriously.

Dealing with Jehovah's Witlesses

When I was growing up, the Moms taught me to always be respectful to Jehovah's Witlesses when they come to the door (because at least they get off their asses and go out and try to spread the word of the Lord--she approved of their industry), this, despite the fact that they ALWAYS show up at the most inopportune times.

These days, when a Witless comes to visit the Moms, she tells them: "You may as well take your bulletin with you, I'll only use it to line the cat's box. I won't read it."

Most of the time, the honesty of this just stuns the holy fuckers. They simply look somewhat startled and reply thank you and walk away fairly rapidly.

Personally, I have trained Ginger, the Diarrhetic dog, to throw such a fit when a stranger comes to the door that the Witlesses can't even get a first word out. I just shrug and tell them that, due to the rabid mouth-foaming nature of my dog, I clearly can't have any sort of meaningful exchange. After they depart, I smile and give Ginger extra cookies and tell her that she's a good girl.

Shit SB Says to Her Precious, Ms. Moon

Trying to predict the End Times is like trying to pinpoint tomorrow's weather. I'll worry about that shit if it happens. Dumb motherfuckers. Why don't these people take care of what's in front of them? What's wrong with them that they can't just live for today? Hell, I just try and make it through the damn day and back to bed at night. I don't have damn time to worry about a bunch of likely fictional shit. MORONS.

I told you I am a grump.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Quote by Tom Ford

Truly beautiful things make me sad because I know they are going to fade. When I see a beautiful 20-year-old boy or girl—and they are breathtaking—I am filled with a kind of sadness. But maybe they are beautiful because we know they are not permanent and they are in a kind of transition.

I Just Like the Damn Photo, Okay?

Tom Ford and his long-time partner, Richard Buckley.

More Isherwood: SB is on a roll (but not a kaiser roll).

The harassed look is that of a desperately tired swimmer or runner; yet there is no question of stopping. The creature we are watching will struggle on and on until it drops. Not because it is heroic. It can imagine no alternative.

Staring and staring into the mirror, it sees many faces within its face - the face of the child, the boy, the young man, the not-so-young-man - all present still, preserved as fossils, dead. Their message to this live dying creature is: Look at us - we have died -what is there to be afraid of?

It answers them: But it happened so gradually, so easily. I am afraid of being rushed.

Quote of the Damn Day: Christopher Isherwood

Fear, after all, is our real enemy. Fear is taking over our world. Fear is being used as a tool of manipulation in our society. Itʼs how politicians peddle policy and how Madison Avenue sells us things that we donʼt need. Think about it. Fear that weʼre going to be attacked, fear that there are communists lurking around every corner, fear that some little Caribbean country that doesnʼt believe in our way of life poses a threat to us. Fear that black culture may take over the world. Fear of Elvis Presleyʼs hips. Well, maybe that one is a real fear. Fear that our bad breath might ruin our friendships… Fear of growing old and being alone.

I Just Like the Damn Photo, Okay?

Christopher Isherwood and Don Bachardy, a portrait of two lovers.

"A few times in my life I’ve had moments of absolute clarity. When for a few brief seconds the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think, and things seem so sharp and the world seems so fresh. It’s as though it had all just come into existence.
I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything, they fade. I have lived my life on these moments. They pull me back to the present, and I realize that everything is exactly the way it was meant to be."
--Christopher Isherwood, A Single Man

Friday, April 1, 2011

I Just Like the Damn Picture, Okay?

I say we offer Pastor Terry Jones up for beheading. In fact, I'm all for it.

I hope Pastor Terry Jones is happy now that his idiocy has gotten innocent people killed. It should have been him.

I know Pastor Terry, I'm going to hell. Whatever. At least I won't have to hang out with morons like you!

SB's Favorite Rolling Stones Song: Far Away Eyes

The Viking sings this song to me all the time, and it always makes me crack up laughing. I was singing it in the shower this morning. How two English boys got it so right is beyond me.

Far Away Eyes [Jagger/Richards]

I was driving home early Sunday morning through Bakersfield
Listening to gospel music on the colored radio station
And the preacher said, "You know you always have the
Lord by your side"

And I was so pleased to be informed of this, that I ran
Twenty red lights in his honor
Thank you Jesus, thank you lord

I had an arrangement to meet a girl, and I was kind of late
And I thought by the time I got there she'd be off
She'd be off with the nearest truck driver she could find
Much to my surprise, there she was sittin in the corner
A little bleary, worse for wear and tear
Was a girl with far away eyes

So if you're down on your luck
And you can't harmonize
Find a girl with far away eyes
And if you're downright disgusted
And life ain't worth a damn
Get a girl with far away eyes

Well the preacher kept right on saying that all I had to do was send
Ten dollars to the Church of the Sacred Bleeding Heart of Jesus
Located somewhere in Los Angeles, California
And next week they'd say my prayer on the radio
And all my dreams would come true
So I did, the next week, I got a prayer, and a girl
Well, you know what kind of eyes she got

So if you're down on your luck
I know you all sympathize
Find a girl with far away eyes
And if you're downright disgusted
And life ain't worth a damn
Get a girl with far away eyes