A Verbal Massage, Southern Style….

Contrary to popular belief (one of you bastards started a rumor) my intellect IS capable of sustaining a worthy conversation primarily due to my extended vocabulary.

Even in Georgia, some rednecks are educated. Surprised huh?

I’ll prove it by allowing you ungrateful denizens a glimpse of my intellectuality.

It started years ago, in the fifth grade. Carol proved to be a true adversary in the spelling bee but conceded to me on the last word because she knew, intellectually, she was a mere pawn and I was King.

But it cost me.

Taking that ribbon at the expense of making my female peer cry broke me down mentally.

So, for the sake of female’s sensitivity, I have always masked my intelligence.

You can thank me later.

Defend Me Please….

When I started at the railr…..uh, the place where our vehicles runs on tracks, I met up with an individual who became more like a brother to me than a friend.

You’ve all read at some point or another me mentioning “my buddy E.”

I talked this unwilling bastard into buying a house right across the street from me and 6 months later, I left my ex-wife (The Bitch) and left E. canvassing the subdivision looking for a new friend.

I felt horrible. Not for The Bitch, but for E.

Him and Trisha planned a surprise visit to the Punchline for me this past Saturday where I enjoyed a great time hanging out and laughing my ass off.

Anyway, E. has found this site.

If anyone at work so much as mentions this to me, I’ll know exactly where it came from and if I disappear again, you guys will know who to blame. So, stand up for me today…

Even though he is my best friend, tell him if he “rats” me out, you’ll cut his pecker off and behead his dumbass. Or something.

He’s reading….

Commence my defense, who’s first??

The House Didn’t Even Burn Down….

People were everywhere, shaking hands, smiling, and shooting the shit. Dressed to impress with manicured nails.

The lights dimmed, signaling everyone to take their seats. Trish and I had been in our seats since the onset.

A few minutes later, mechanically drawn curtains parted like the Red Sea revealing the Sunday morning choir.

I went to church yesterday folks….

But this wasn’t an ordinary church. This was the mammoth church of the county. We had to walk a mile (all uphill…both ways in barefeet) from where we HAD to park.

The collections plate looked like the winnings of a lottery ticket.

And….

Two big screens hung on each side of the stage zeroed in on the preacher-man for the people who didn’t get there 45 minutes early to find an empty seat and had to sit in the “nose bleed” section.

By the way, since when does a church call it’s deacons and stuff “staff members”?

It was impersonal, not what I’m used to having been raised in a backwoods country church where I knew everyone.

Anyway, Trish and I will surely visit more churches in the future, just not one’s who have more employees than Wal Mart.

A show of hands….. who didn’t go to church yesterday?

Damn sinners.

But I’m gonna pray for you bastards wayward people and I’ll knock you out bless you guys.

Yep, Slick’s gonna pray.

My New Toy….

I have read the instruction manual from cover to cover and I still have yet to figure out how to turn the damn flash on. Why do they have to make shit so difficult?

Anyway, introducing my new toy….

For Valentine’s Day, Trish got me some of that massage oil that heats up when you rub it on. Know what I’m talking about? Well, after I spent 35 minutes putting it on her, I began to wonder just who that gift was really for.

By the way, the directions say “even in your most initmate areas”…..this is true, but it makes my flngrs fingers so slipop slippery, the ketbo keyboard is a mess.

But I’m still smiling.

Little Girls Are A Mystery….

This past Friday, I had a date. No, it wasn’t with Trisha either.

My date was with a 7 year old. WAIT, before you submit me to the Perverted Justice website let me explain…

I took my daughter to the annual Father/Daughter dance. Donned my best tie, favorite pair of slacks, and my biggest smile while she looked stunning beside me.

Once we entered the gym, I took up position on the sideline with 2 other Dads who are my good friends and we began to discuss work, sports, and compared our uncomfortableness in such dressy clothes on a Friday night.

All the while the little girls screamed with delight and ran and danced like wild heathens across the dance floor.

The DJ announced “Go get your Dads’ girls!”  every 2nd song it seemed and I’d have a little hand grabbing my arm pulling me out onto the dance floor.

Even without alcohol, this party rocked and yeah, I can’t wait until next year.

My First Time….And Some Random Thoughts….

For a long time in my life, I thought sex only involved a pornographic magazine, a jar of Vasaline, and a wad of toilet paper.

The first time an actual female played a pivotal part in my carnal pleasures, she called the police and told me she’d break my legs if I ever came near her windows again.

Kidding, damn….calm down people.

Like I’d tell ya’ll about my first time anyway. I may be a “tell all” but I have more respect for womenfolk than ya’ll give me credit for.

Obviously.

But I will say this….it only cost me 60 bucks.

Speaking of money, I’d like to take Uncle Sam’s big ass hat and stuff it down his freakin’ throat.

Yeah, for the 3rd year in a row….he’s making me pay.

And last but not least, I knew I attracted perverts but damn….

The latest search words to my site were these:

 

Reckon’ I could introduce them to my 60 buck “friend”?

I’m Going To Defend Myself….

On my old site, someone once accused me of being a homophobe. Left me an ugly comment and all.

I am still fuming from this. It’s been a while and today I am going to defend myself. Because a homophobe I AM NOT.

Here are the reasons why I do not consider myself a homophobe:

1. I purchase “Lorna Doone” shortbread cookies out of the vending machine at work all. the. time.

2. I bathe with a loofah sponge thingy.

3. I openly admit to loving the new comforter Trish just bought.

4. I am a sensitive and caring manly man.

If these 4 reasons don’t persuade you to believe otherwise, then you can kiss my ass.

I mean seriously, would a homophobe post a picture like this?

 

I’m going to throw up now…

Sick bastards those two are.

Errrr……I meant, “Ain’t that so sweet?”

A Day….

Trish is staying home from work today.

I’m off today.

She wants to clean the carpets, dust, vacuum, and all that other shit. What the hell is wrong with women.

I mean, maybe that’d be enjoyable if she wore her french maid outfit but she’s got on sweats and tshirt for crying outloud.

“What about me? I need something cleaned!” I screamed.

She threw me a washrag.

I’ve locked myself in the spare bedroom for now, watching sexy music videos.

I’ll clean my own damn self.

Ya’ll be good….and look for a new video tonight 

And no, not of me being cleaned. Perverts. 

You Make The Call….

Today I’d like to discuss a hot topic between me and Trish. Uh, Trish and I. Maybe Trish and myself…what the hell ever. Anyway, we’ve gone round and round about this and today folks, I’m asking for your advice….well, your opinions. Not your advice because I’m mostly always right but sometimes I get led astray.

We won’t get into my sexual life though.

Where was I? Oh yeah…your opinion on the matter of self confidence or arrogance.

If, 5 minutes into the game (any game) that we play, I say “You can go ahead and quit, I’ve already won the game“…would that be considered self confident or arrogant?

When I’m winning any game, I taunt, tease, and say remarks involving words like “loser”, “you suck“, or “where’s ya damn brain at“….you consider that self confident or arrogant?

Just because I’m self confident doesn’t make me a poor winner. I already know I’m a sore loser, as evidenced by the string of profanities I occasionally blurt out.

All I want to know…is where in the hell is that fine line between self confidence and arrogance because the only way I know I’ve crossed it is when I have to start dodging dice and watching the Monopoly money strewn about the living room floor.

Oh and by the way, for those of you who were curious about my 3 cellphones….Trish works for one of the companies so I get free service with one And the other service, most of my buddies are on, so I practically get free minutes either way.

And The OTHER Trish? Canada is good for fur coat exports. It’s a good country to have around for a few purposes anyway.

Somebody Explain….

After working 12 hours last night, I climbed off the engine, started torward my car, and zipped my jacket up real quick.

This is the south. Georgia sits right on top of Florida so what’s it doing getting 22 degrees here?

Somebody needs to remind the Man above of this fact.

If I wanted cold, I’d move to Michigan…or worse, Canada, the frozen tundra. I’ve seen that place on the National Geographic channel…it’s all ice.

Hell, I don’t even know what street Canada is on anyway.

Danette tagged me. I don’t normally do these “me-me’s” but today, I have nothing to write about seeing as how it’s only 46 degrees now and I’m afraid the cable outside that gives me internet is about to freeze up.

6 weird things about me:

1.  Reese’s Peanutbutter Cups give me heartburn.

2.  I have 3 cellphones. One is Verizon and the other 2 are Cingular.

3. I seldom ever drink alcohol. I know, not weird but given my reputation, I thought you bastards folks should know.

4. I absolutely hate water rides at amusement parks.

5. I’m running out shit to write about.

6. I hate “sleeping in” on my off-days. Even when I have nothing to do, I’m ready to get up and get the day started.

That’s it. That was hard work. You owe me Danette.

Trish and I are going to go eat a mexican tonight…I meant going to eat mexican and then it’s off to work I go again.

Ya’ll be safe and keep those private parts bundled up. It’s mighty cold out there.