This Just In: Michelle Obama Can Kick My Ass

Yup, she can. I bet she can kick your ass too.

That is all.

An Open Letter to Victoria('s Secret)

Hey Vikki,

So, I remember when I was younger and I'd wait with baited breath to see your little catalog show up in our mailbox... I'd rush out to get the mail nearly every day in hopes that I'd snag that sweet bit of publication before my mom found it.

Back then your pages were adorned with beautiful women in scantily clad "outfits" and I won't like.. I love every second of it. I'm guessing that somewhere down the road a therapist will tell me it was my adolescent obsession with thumbing through the pages of each and every installment that's warped my sense of what my ideal woman should be, but I simply don't give a damn.

The lovely young lady who lived in our residence before us must have been an avid customer of yours because a catalog addressed to her recently shimmied through our mail slot and onto our entry way floor. I have to admit, upon seeing your name scrawled across the top of that gleaming magazine weight cover I got a little twinge of sentiment for days gone by...

However, when I opened the cover... no skin. Flip a couple pages - no skin. Flip a few more - HANDBAGS? What in the heck Vikki? What happened to the little bit of erotica wrapped in a growing corporate idea that used to bring me, my friends and a billion other sex-starved teens their daily dose of almost porn?

We're through...

Yours,

Ron

p.s. I'm don't mean it baby. Please take me back.

The proverbial dear john letter for work

XXX,

I will be departing XXX on August 27, 2008. It’s time for a change in scenery. When I entered college, I wanted my career to take me places that I couldn’t imagine. That’s why I’ve decided to become an astronaut. Undoubtedly, this career change will help me pursue my goal.

I don’t know if you read the recent story on C|Net, but NASA is hurting for spacepeople. I always wanted to serve my country; I just didn’t have the nerve to serve in the military. Finally I can make the United States people proud and do my duty.

Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin have nothing against me. Frankly, I could take either one of those guys in a fight. We both know the moon landing was faked on a Hollywood back lot. It’s time for me to do well and show those red Russians they can’t fuck with me. Eat your heart out Putin.

Space exploration has yet to see the records I’m going to set. Has anyone ever gotten drunk in space? Doubtful. Anyone ever opened the airlock on one of their crew as a prank? Probably not; but soon to change. Has a moonman ever spacewalked just to play a pathetic romance song to prove his love for someone significant (circa John Cusak)? I think not, but that’s soon to change.

Some people complacently live their lives. Others decide to push the limits. I am one of those people that decided to push to limits. So here I go, I’m pushing the limits. See me? I’m pushing them right now. I’m pushing them harder than Michael Phelps. I’m pushing them as hard as I possibly can (thanks Mooninites).

It took a lot of alcoholic beverages to write this letter. I hope it is grammatically correct; I hope the spelling is correct, too.

I’m sure I’ll see you again. After all, our planet size dwindles in comparison to that of others in our universe. In fact, the chances of us crossing paths are more likely than me finding life on Mars. Sorry NASA, but it’s true. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.

Regards and Thanks,

B

Random post, to keep this blog alive

Random random random. I'm listening to Bad Astronaut right now, it's pretty awesome.

I witnessed a drug deal the other day. I don't have much else to say about that.

If you're an uninsured motorist, you can go to hell.

There's 15 minutes left until I get to leave work. YES! Only 15 minutes. There's two people in my office right now, including me. The other guy keeps making snorting noises with his nose. I should call his phone and say with a disguised voice, "I'm in the building right now, watching you, and you smell funny." Just to see what he says.

I'm going to a wedding reception this weekend that will also be attended by the governor's daughter. I plan to ask her what her mom is doing about that schmuck Dino Rossi. He's an ass clown.

There's still 10 minutes left in the work day. Well, I should probably go act busy.

Loves it!

It's Confirmed!

Criss Angel is STILL a toolbag.

Seattle traffic, Go F Yourself

That's right, I said it. Go fuck yourself. Seattle traffic, you're worse than herpes. Okay, maybe that's saying a bit too much, but seriously, you're getting out of hand. This morning I couldn't take my usual route to work because of this:


So I took another route, only to still be plagued by traffic woes. Seattle traffic, go fuck yourself.

I know we've got it bad, and I know a lot of other urban cities do too. All I'm saying is a few more people need to not take their cars to work, so that I can get to work in a more timely fashion. That is all.

Seattle traffic go fuck yourself. Okay, I'm done.