A Discourse

Why do the fattest fucking people always own the tiniest cars?

Uhhhhhh. . . maybe it's because they buy extra food with all that money they save on gas? How the shit should I know, do I look like fucking Dr. Oz, motherfucker?

Ms. Moon (the Idol of My Wretched Life) Asked My Fat White Ass to Post this Shit Again. Ho-Fucking-Ho.

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.

When Will You Die?

Why do the people we hate always manage to live so damn long? Is it too late to swap Cheney for John Lennon?

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2869337/Senate-torture-report-s-cr-say-former-Vice-President-Dick-Cheney.html

A Salute to All the Assholes in Congress! Especially Boehner, Who I'm Embarrassed Is from Ohio. We're sorry!

You can tell they are Republicans just by looking at them.

Check the pictures out: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2821195/Republicans-way-victory-Senate-seats-two-states-hope-landslide-Democrats.html

They all have helmet hair and look like they have a goddamn stick rammed up their asses.

Congratulations, assholes!

A Bitch Needs to Check Her Ego, Not Wreck It

I watched Alanis Morrisette on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday last night, and Oprah sort of drives me nuts. She cuts in on her guests and always makes the conversation about her. And she’s supposed to be so “evolved.” What the fuck ever. Can you say Ego Queen?

My Heart Is Heavy.

All of life is a coming home. Salesmen, secretaries, coal miners, beekeepers, sword swallowers, all of us. All the restless hearts of the world, all trying to find a way home. It's hard to describe what I felt like then. Picture yourself walking for days in the driving snow; you don't even know you're walking in circles. The heaviness of your legs in the drifts, your shouts disappearing into the wind. How small you can feel, and how far away home can be. Home. The dictionary defines it as both a place of origin and a goal or destination. And the storm? The storm was all in my mind. Or as the poet Dante put it: In the middle of the journey of my life, I found myself in a dark wood, for I had lost the right path.

--lines from Patch Adams

Some of us think he's a patriot. I think our Founding Fathers would agree.

“I care more about the country than what happens to me. But we can’t allow the law to become a political weapon or agree to scare people away from standing up for their rights, no matter how good the deal. I’m not going to be part of that.”

--Edward Snowden

http://www.wired.com/2014/08/edward-snowden/

This Morning's E-mail to My Idol, Ms. Moon

I am reading Billy Bob Thornton’s book and really enjoying it. I guess everybody thinks he’s weird, but he seems normal to me. Angie Jolie’s intro was really sweet.

 

Sleeping all day sounds great to me. I love to go to bed at night and hate to get out of bed in the morning. Psychologically, there is something VERY WRONG there. Obviously my life lacks fulfillment.

 

I watched Jersey Belle and sort of enjoyed it. That Jersey chick is a damn hoot. But they always stereotype Southern women, like they are so sheltered they have never heard a damn cuss word before. Also they are all into formal teas and shit. I’d rather have a needle poked in my damn eye than go to a tea in fancy dress where nobody cusses.

 

I saw that about the woman in Tallahassee. Couldn’t the dumb bitch just have told her kids that she didn’t want to watch the grandkids anymore??? WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH PEOPLE????? I heard the little brother heard the 7 year old say, “Please don’t kill me.” Jesus.

 

I have coffee on this end too. Kati Kati blend from Starbucks. Why can’t those corporate fucks ever give anything a normal name? I don’t even like asking for it. I’m afraid I’ll mispronounce the shit.

 

Quote of the Goddamn Day: Sarcastic Bastard

"Fucker was all strung out and Cobain-y and shit."

I'm allowed to quote myself, motherfuckers. I own the rights and all.

Phrase of the Day: I can't be bothered.

YOUR CHALLENGE: Use the phrase I can't be bothered at least 10 times today.

DICKLAIMER: If you lose your job, or have your spouse threaten to divorce you, this is not SB's problem. My ass is NOT liable for that shit.

NO SHIT Comment of the Week: Michelle Duggar Says Birth Gets Easier After 19 Children

Christ, I hope so. The kids probably just plonk right out of her vagina at this point. She probably doesn’t even realize she’s given birth, until somebody points it out. I hear she’s also considering leasing her vagina out as a bus barn to her local school district. GROSS.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2646617/Mother-19-Michelle-Duggar-47-giving-birth-gets-easier-multiple-children.html

Let's all give a BIG FUCKING SHOUT OUT for the Asylum for the Relief of Persons Deprived of the Use of Their Reason!

According to the Writer's Almanac, today is the anniversary of the first loony bin. Since it's where my fat ass is headed one of these days, I can dig that.

From the Writer's Almanac:

It was on this day in 1817 that the Asylum for the Relief of Persons Deprived of the Use of Their Reason was founded in Philadelphia. It was the first private mental health hospital in the United States. The Asylum was founded by a group of Quakers, the Philadelphia Yearly Meeting of Friends, who built the institution on a 52-acre farm. It is still around today, but goes by the name Friends Hospital.

At the time that Friends Hospital was founded, mental illness was widely misunderstood and treated as criminal behavior. Mentally ill people were tied up, put in chains, isolated, or beaten. The Quakers wanted to model a new type of care. They wrote out their philosophy in a mission statement for the hospital: "To provide for the suitable accommodation of persons who are or may be deprived of the use of their reason, and the maintenance of an asylum for their reception, which is intended to furnish, besides requisite medical aid, such tender, sympathetic attention as may soothe their agitated minds, and under the Divine Blessing, facilitate their recovery."

The group purchased the 52-acre farm for less than $7,000, and tried to create a beautiful place with gardens and lots of outdoor space. These days, the hospital occupies 100 acres, which include flower gardens and about 200 varieties of trees. Much of this was the work of one man who started out at the hospital as a bookkeeper in 1875 and ended up working there and managing the grounds until his death in 1947. One day, he found an azalea that a family member had brought for a patient and tossed out. He tended it in the greenhouse until it was healthy again, took cuttings, and planted those, and from that one plant more than 20 acres of the Friends Hospital are now planted in azaleas.

ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT as Matt McConaughey would say. Fuck yeah.

Remembering Sweet Kurt

I was thinking at lunch that my old dog, who is on her last legs probably, at nearly 15 years old, wasn't even born before Kurt killed himself. He has been gone that long--more than the span of her life. Hard to believe. Kurt and I were born in the same year, and he was the voice of my generation (at least one of them). I miss his sweet presence in the world. I will always, always miss him. And I firmly believe that wherever the essence of him has gone, he is not aware of any of our remembrances. But I will remember anyway.

This is my favorite photo of him.

This morning's e-mail to the Moms

Went to the dreaded Walfart last night. Had to buy a size 14 pair of jeans. They are a little roomy, but the size 10s and 12s were getting so tight, it’s like my asshole was sucking them up. It was gross-looking. 

Bitching Mentally-Off Newspaper Guy

When I went to pick up coffee this morning, there is some old guy who reads the paper most mornings and then looks up from the paper, and if you are even remotely looking anywhere in his vicinity, bitches unintelligibly to you (or anyone) about newsprint getting on his hands. And you want to say, “Stupid motherfucker, why don’t you just stop reading the paper then?” But he’s clearly off, so you don’t dare. If you hurry up and change your line of vision, like you were watching the TV and not looking at bitching mentally-off newspaper guy, he turns around and starts watching TV too. It’s sort of sad, but it also sort of tickles me—probably out of fear—because I know I am just mentally about one step behind the guy. He should probably be in a now nearly non-existent State Home, and I have to wonder how he gets up to the store. Hopefully the fucker walks or bicycles and doesn’t drive. THE THOUGHT.

Cross-Car Guy

I wish I had a damn picture, quite frankly. 

Near the Wal-Mart at lunch I passed Cross-Car Guy. It’s this local guy who drives around with a nearly full-size wooden cross hanging out of his back car window. I shit you not. What a nutjob idiotic moronic motherfucker. Only in Ohio (or Florida). Maybe the cross helps weight his car down in the snow and ice. Let us hope! That would be about all it would ACTUALLY do. And also I imagine he’s cold driving around with the back window mostly down. ONE MUST SUFFER FOR JESUS!

Joe just told me that in the warmer months, Cross-Car Guy actually CARRIES the cross around town. I mean if he REALLY wanted to impress, he’d drag that shit through the snow and ice! Convenient Christian.

An Exchange with My Idol, Ms. Moon.

Ms. M: Yesterday when we were in the Costco, they were giving out samples of Cookie Butter (have you heard of this?) spread on cookies. We tried it. It was as awesome as anything could be that has 90 calories per tablespoon. I told the lady handing it out that yes, it was delicious but I would not be buying any because I would take it home and eat the whole jar. She said, "Oh, I can control my eating of sweets. I can only eat so much before I just can't eat any more."
  

I looked at her and decided that either "so much" was an awful lot or else maybe it's pizza she can't stop eating. The little woman was as round as a door knob.

SB: The guy with the donuts keeps sending e-mails that say stuff like, “DONUTS DO NOT EAT THEMSELVES! GET OVER HERE.” He just wants everybody to wish his fat ass Happy Birthday. Yes, I am a tad cynical about the motivations of my fellow man.

NO, I have not heard of Cookie Butter, but Paula Deen probably came about a thousand times when she heard about it. That was hysterical about the lady. That needs to go on your blog, if it hasn’t already. By the way, it’s pizza I can’t stop eating. Oh, and cookies and cupcakes too. I’m lucky they didn’t bring in cupcakes for Bryan. I would have had to waddle over.

All the Fatties in the Office

All the fatties in the office (except for me) are running over to Bryan’s cube, because today is his birthday, and somebody brought in donuts to celebrate. It’s the only time anybody in this office moves fast.

There is no one more disgusted with obese Americans than I am. In fact, I disgust MYSELF. May I just state, though, that the photo above is NOT me? Thank you.

My Real Housewives of Beverly Hills Recap

I LOVE Real Housewives and will happily discuss anytime. I watch all of them, even Lisa’s stupid knock-off show—Vanderpump Rules. Those kids are all such self-centered idiots. I watch it mainly just to bitch out loud about the young dolts on the screen. The cats sometimes get upset, because they think my raised voice means I am upset with them.

 

Carlton is a BIG oddball. I am sort of fascinated with her though. She certainly enjoys acting bisexual, but she pushes it so much, I’m not sure that it’s not just a sexy act for her husband. Her cleavage is nasty as fuck. I don’t know if she had a bad boob job or what. A bitch needs to cover that shit up! She'll probably put a spell on me for saying that.

 

Kyle looked so beautiful in the blue dress she wore to the combo birthday party in the show last night. Damn, what a figure! I can’t believe she’s had that many kids and looks that good still. I look fat and gross and I’ve had no kids. What’s my excuse?

 

Joyce has GREAT hair, so does Kyle, but she is so sickeningly sweet, I don’t buy it. It’s got to be an act.

 

I dig Kim. A bitch is just nutty as fuck. Talk about a dry drunk.

 

I sort of like Brandi, mainly because she amuses me, and because I HATE stupid Leanne Rimes. Leanne must eat herself up with jealousy over Brandi’s pretty face and gorgeous figure. Leanne will NEVER have a pretty face. EVER.

 

Yolanda would make the best friend of the lot. She is just very centered and calm and has a good philosophy about things. I really like her.

Don't you lazy bitches expect me to recap every episode of Real damn Housewives either! I don't have the time to explain what you  just saw to all of you. I have 8 cats, a geriatric dog, a full-time job, a house, and a Viking to take care of. DO THE WORK, MOTHERFUCKERS!