Don't ask me why these next two inspirational quotes annoyed me. They just did. I had originally followed this account, "Epic Women", on Twitter because they sometimes had nice quotes.
This past weekend, I saw this toy for sale on Amazon:
I think today's post title may be my favorite thus far. And because I can, I'm going to make you read all the way to the end before you get an explanation. Just sit back and enjoy the... anticipation. (Bonus points if you heard the word "anticipation" in the voice of Dr. Frank N. Furter). The alternate title was not nearly as interesting: "Random Text Messages with Ivory". I didn't really have any specific ideas for this post, so I started sorting through old text messages. The first one below is a few weeks old. I held on to it as if someday I would be writing an "Ass-Flavored Ice Cream" post. This is one of those instances where I don't know if she thought of me because I speak Russian or if the phrase "Ice cream in the ass" sounds like something that would make me laugh. Both probably. For some reason I was feeling rather philosophical Monday morning. I assume other people send text messages to their friends that say things like, "Hey-- Happy Monday! I hope you have a great week!". My friends get messages like this: Don't ask me why these next two inspirational quotes annoyed me. They just did. I had originally followed this account, "Epic Women", on Twitter because they sometimes had nice quotes. This past weekend, I saw this toy for sale on Amazon: Close-up of the musical condom: The next day I sent this text: Personally, I think it would be hilarious to receive random text messages containing nonsense shit. If it was funny stuff, I mean. Not dick pics. Oh hell, who am I kidding? If I started getting dick pics I would TOTALLY find that amusing and I'd probably write about it here. Note-- this is not a subtle hint to send me dick pics. Seriously. And I've written the phrase "dicks pics" enough in this one paragraph to last a lifetime.
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(Note: You know you're writing a post that's kind of odd when you can't decide if the title should be "Shriners with Boners" or "Stompy the Goddamn Troll". Such is my life.) I was talking to my friend Alanna on Friday and she mentioned that she doesn't know why someone doesn't just follow me around with a camera at all times because it would make for entertaining reality TV. I had never thought about that before but she may be right. I seem to find nonsense and funny stuff everywhere I go. Not every day is like that of course. This past Friday however, was one of those days that just seemed funny to me from the time I got up in the morning. I present to you "A Day in the Life of Gina", as told through text messages. First text was sent while my son ate breakfast and watched TV: This happened as I tried to put my clothes on: I'm not even joking, if I was in a bookstore and saw a book in the kid's section with the title, "Stompy the Goddammed Troll", I would absolutely buy that book. Hmmmm... this could be a lucrative idea. Are there any illustrators out there who would want to collaborate with me on this? Let me know... Just to clarify, the grandfatherly man in the photo above was not the pervy-looking guy. I'm sure the man pictured is a completely lovely person (I had to write this last sentence in case someone was to write in the comments, "That's my Grandfather and he's saint! How dare you disparage him. He hasn't had a boner in YEARS!"). On my lunch hour I went to shopping at a "Marshalls" discount store. The logical answer is that the clown shoe is an item for sale in the store. However, it looks used to me; not brand new. Questions... just so many questions. After I got back to the office from running my errand, I had to send this message. Before you read it you should know that my boss is an awesome person (seriously, no sarcasm) and completely undeserving of the shit that he has to put up with on a daily basis from me. ![]() Hey guys-- I haven't done a NSFW (Not Safe For Work) post in a while. I've been saving up all my naughty text messages and nonsense to use in one post. Today is that post (Hooray!). If you're at work, you may want to wait and read this at home. Or have your boss contact me and let me know that you have permission. Whatever's easiest... First up is a text I sent regarding a book that someone had suggested that I read. It was only after read the first sentence that I realized how my intended message could be misinterpreted: Lesson from me-- be careful with the word placement of "fucking", lest it end up sounding like a verb in your sentence. Next up is a screenshot of my desktop monitor at work and a conversation with my friend Ivory: I hope this next story doesn't make you judge me too harshly, but this Russian guy I briefly dated was a total douche. I'm not using the term "douche" lightly either. He was a no-good two-timer. And he had a teeny-weeny-peeny. This happened 24 years ago. Do I have a tendency to hold a grudge? Yes, yes I do. I never cease to be amused by the search terms that bring people to this website. This next one is no exception: My friend Christopher had this response: Last Friday I came home to find this in my mailbox: The candy (singular, not plural) was from a local realtor trying to attract new business. It may be the strangest marketing campaign I've ever seen. "Here's ONE piece of crappy candy (that may or may not have touched male genitalia). Buy a house from me!". Speaking of pumpkin-flavored junk, here's something I saw yesterday on the Kroger website (conversation with my friend Ivory): Someone asked me if it really was pumpkin-flavored. I honestly don't know. I clicked on the ad but it didn't show a recipe. The brown spice on the bottom looks like cinnamon to me. One friend mentioned that maybe it's paprika. I guess we'll never know. I'm going to assume yes. The whole world has gone pumpkin-spice crazy. I've seen jokes about pumpin-spiced tampons. At this point it's probably just a matter of time.
On Friday I went to the grocery store during my lunch hour. That was the plan in any case. As soon as I pulled in to the parking lot, for some reason I felt the nearby "Tuesday Morning" store calling my name. In my head I was like, "I don't need anything at Tuesday Morning. What we need is food". But then I remembered that I always find entertaining shit in there, which I then can write about here, so I was like, "OH FINE!". As usual, I was not disappointed (funny replies below courtesy of my friends Ivory and David): I really am going to keep the toy beaver in my office. I figure it will be a good conversation piece. I'll put up a little sign next to him (for some reason I feel like it's a boy beaver-- go figure): "Feel Free to Pet the Beaver". Because I'm a friendly person that way. I would have bought this doll if only she had come with accessories, like a model of the Petit Trianon to use as a playhouse. And outrageous wigs that you could switch out. As I was typing this I wondered, "Is anyone making Marie Antoinette wigs for dolls? I'll check Amazon." This wig is for kids, not a doll, but I wanted to mention that you could probably get dual usage from this wig if your kid wanted to dress up as Tammy Faye Bakker. (Those of you who weren't alive in the 80's, you missed out on the Bakker era. Sorry about your luck). This was another Amazon search hit: It really does say ages six and up. Your five-year old will have to stick with baby dolls and stuffed animals. Maybe like this stuffed bear I saw at Tuesday Morning: I bought this next item; it's both a magnet and a clip: After visiting Tuesday Morning, I finally made it to the grocery store and this happened:
I love Amazon.com, not just for their low prices and wide selection, but because they carry the weirdest range of shit imaginable. It's like going to the thrift store but without the pee smell. I was looking at boys' clothes and ran across a couple of gems: By the way, there are longer versions of the SNL Shake Weight skit that you can find online. I just included a brief clip as a quick reminder of what the "Shake Weight" is. Or was. I don't know if it's still an item that's for sale. (OK, I had to Google it. You can buy it on Amazon for about eleven bucks). For $19 (discounted from $44) these pants can be yours: Speaking of little boys, my son brought home a coloring book from school the other day. One of the pages inside is this: All kids know there's nothing funner than coloring in your local coroner! At least the guy in the drawing is appropriately sad. Not like the talking key with the big smile on his face. What an asshole. This next incident happened last weekend. The little boy in the photo is my son: (By the way, the person who answered all these text messages is my friend Alanna, from the blog "White Girls Be Like". She deserves a co-writing credit.) The bra incident was kind of embarrassing; nearly as embarrassing as this: I apologize in advance that if in the future when you hear the phrase "jazz hands" you automatically think "jizz hands". I know I will. At least we'll all suffer together.
It's October so I guess an obligatory Halloween post is necessary. My son, like many children, spent weeks agonizing over his costume. We wasted a lot of time looking up Grim Reaper-type scary costumes online. He had very specific criteria (known only to him) and every costume seemed to be lacking a certain "something". There were costumes that were advertised as "scary" but instead looked like this: Later my son decided that he wanted to be a 1930's style gangster. Ever since we visited Alcatraz over the summer, he's been enamored with that period of American history. Amazingly, there was a pretty wide choice of kid's gangster costumes to choose from. The costume we picked out didn't come with a fedora so I had to search for that separately. I went to Amazon and found this: And this: I kept seeing the old man in all sorts of hats for the HMS company. I want to think that it's someone's grandpa who was coerced into modeling the hats and not some guy they found on the street who got paid in gin and cigarettes. Because that makes me feel kind of sad... If you're wondering how my son looks in his costume, here he is: Many zoos have special Halloween celebrations during October and ours is no different. Besides just the kids dressing up, there are a lot of adults in costume as well. Here's Snow White handing out candy: We saw Olaf at the zoo: If that was my child in the photo with Olaf, I would've sent it out to friends and family with the caption, "Nom Nom Nom!". There was an entire display of carved pumpkins at the Zoo. We thought this Spiderman one was particularly cool: This one was less cool: This conversation, as well as the next, was with my friend Ivory: Last thing for today is a stuffed bear that my son and I saw when we were out shopping recently. It's the "Feral Fuzzy White Bear". He's holding a severed, bloody finger if you can't tell. It's one of the most frightening things I've ever seen (although I scare easily so I may not be the best judge of scariness). Be sure the click on the short video clip that someone else posted to get the full creepy effect of this little critter: If there is someone in your life who would enjoy playing with an evil stuffed bear, you can find this toy at "Party City".
My son's school has been out the past couple of days for parent/teacher conferences. Whenever given the opportunity to have a "fun day", my son's usual first choice is to go to a bookstore. Which is fine with me, since bookstores are one of my favorite places as well. I ran across some interesting things while we visited a "Half Price Bookstore" yesterday. I don't know why I had never done this before, but I decided to look through the section of old records. I mean "records" as in vinyl or LP's or albums. Whatever term you prefer to use. I wish I had started browsing records the minute I arrived as I think I could have found a lot more entertaining stuff. As it was, we were at the end of our visit and my son was ready to go and was rushing me. This album caught my attention because I grew up on Sesame Street but I have zero memory of a character named Irwin. One of the songs on the record is, "Me Lost Me Cookie at the Disco". I know for sure that Cookie Monster, not Irwin the Duck, sang that song. Here's proof: So I checked Google and here's what I found: I just had to include this bit of information because the names are so awesomely bad. "Clem the Cookie Goobler" seems like a vaguely inappropriate name for a children's album; in fact it sounds a bit pornographic to me. (I just have to add that I desperately, desperately, wanted to write that there was also another muppet singer on the album named "Karen the Carpet Muncher" but I thought it was too crude. Just tryin' to keep things classy here). My only memories of Tennessee Ernie Ford are from the episodes of "I Love Lucy" where he played Cousin Ernie. I remember I thought it was funny when Lucy tried to scare him by "vamping" him. But I really didn't know that much about Mr. Ford, so I did a Google search and found this: As often happens, Google was not helpful AT ALL. It just made me have more questions. I was like, what in the hell is a peapicker? It's this: According to Wikipedia, it's a derogatory term. Now I feel sorry for making fun (a little bit) of Ernie Ford. His own website is an asshole to him apparently. For five bucks this can be yours: This next album caught my attention just because the sleigh seems unusually large. Does it require Clydesdales to pull it I wonder? Also, you don't see that many musical groups with the name "Minstrels" anymore. If I had to guess why, I'd say it's because of the unfortunate fact that it sounds like a lady's reproductive cycle. Look at those happy faces. No one's ever that happy when it's the Menstruals. Just sayin'... This artwork was for sale: It's probably for the best that there was no Sylvia Path magnet. I'd probably get angry phone calls from mothers complaining that their kids keep trying to put their heads inside an Easy Bake Oven. There's nothing particularly funny about the Frankenflowers. I just thought it was an interesting Halloween decoration. Usually Frankenstein isn't quite so adorable. That's all I had to share from our bookstore visit. I was going to end the post here. However, I'm writing this while my son plays at a place that has inflatables and jumpys for kids to play on. I just had to send this text: I wish they would have called over the intercom "Turd Alert" or at least "Code Brown". But they didn't. This reminds me that my son has taken swim lessons at the YMCA in the past. On two different occasions the pool had to be evacuated because of a turd in the water.Basically turds are the party poopers of all fun activities. Pun intended, by the way. Did you just groan?. I had to make that joke. I didn't want to. I had to. Also, I just realized that my last post included the word "Poo" in the title. I've got to find better topics to write about. Or else I need to quit hanging around children.
Just a heads up that today's post consists of random, recent stuff that struck me as funny. The only unifying theme comes at the end when I mention Russian toilets and the phrase "satisfying poo". So I guess "shit" is the theme of the day. Lovely. First up, a text from a few days ago: Does everyone have these internal monologues? Even if not, just lie to me and say yes. These next few texts are from Friday: At one time, I would have found this embarrasing. Now I'm just like, "Get up. You're getting dirty on the floor". Seriously, my son makes me think about things that I would have never thought about in a million years. I guess that's good (?). I don't know if the police talked to the women (who appeared to be in their 20's). My son told me he hoped the police arrested them and he hoped that they got 30 days in jail. Future criminals better hope my son doesn't end up as a sentencing judge. This morning I checked my Twitter account and had a moment of "What the hell, brain?" when I saw my recent search queries: I finally remembered that there was a blog comment here recently about someone having the Twitter handle "sastifyingpoo", but the account was suspended. I wanted to check it out. This would be really confusing to someone if I died unexpectedly and they logged onto my account. This would be my final search. Which actually seems quite appropriate for me, now that I think of it.
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GinaI'm the worst kind of asshole-- I think I'm funny. Archives
November 2016
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