Tag Archives: asshats

Please Don’t Squeeze The Ultimate Intimate Cleansing Experience

9 Feb

Note to my mommy: I’m sorry. I know it’s eskimo and you are making that face right now.

Note to readers: My mommy would want you to know she raised a lady who doesn’t talk about this kind of thing. I haven’t actually met this woman, but I hear she exists.

 

Do you use the toilet? Are you filthy rich? Do you wish you could make going potty more difficult and time consuming? Have I got the thing for you! bottomsup

Josephs is toilet paper. Except it’s not. It’s an experience. It’s a “microcosm of form and function” made from “tender virgin new-growth fibres”. Even better, “the dendritic structure of the inner core provides optimal absorption while the outer layers act as moisture barrier for wet use.” All this is according to the–admittedly beautiful–website. And that’s just the wipe! We haven’t even gotten to the “hypoallergenic debriding and detoxifying cleanser,” or the moisturizer with “soothing and nourishing emollients,” that “are quickly absorbed by the skin and support the immune system by enhancing the skin’s resilience as a protective barrier.” And, as if that’s not enough, the moisturizer’s “delicate fragrance completes the feeling of pristine perfection”.

Are you with me?

This is a dry adult butt wipe that can be moistened and then used to apply moisturizer to you delicate chapped ass. As my friend Left Wing Cracker said, it’s for the delicate sphincter. Now, ladeez, we all know we stink. And we know our gynecologists beat us with their speculums (specula?) whenever we mention something about cleaning our netherlands with anything that “debrides”, but did I mention you’re stinky? So.

Now. What would you pay to bathe your touchus with the fibers of virgins and a cleanser that sounds suspiciously like Evian?

How about $275?

I’ll just wait while you get up from the floor, resuscitate yourself, and clean the coffee off your screen from where you just spit it out.

That’s two months of fresh, clean, yodeling yoni. If you’re not totally committed, you can get the starter kit for only $110. It doesn’t actually say how long that lasts. I guess it depends how much Taco Bell you eat or if your period is…never mind.

Let’s say you LOVE LOVE LOVE the Joseph Badonkadonk Bedewing System. It’s not gonna fit on a standard toilet roll holder. It’s not on a roll, remember. Because that’s disgusting. No, you need to consult the Joseph Furniture section. If you’re a true connoisseur of the Joseph system and want to telegraph your love for nature, let me recommend The Joséphier in Natural Warped Ebony Macassar for only $1100. For you beach house, you can just use the basic brushed stainless for only $550. For your sex room or men’s club (often the same thing), I recommend the hand-wrapped leather model for $950.

ridiculouswasteofmoney

You know what I love about this stuff? Everything.

I really super-love how the site makes this huge deal of how natural and environmental it is as opposed to regular toilet paper for troglodytes and oil-guzzling hillbillies. Why should I walk up to Dollar General and get a disgusting 12-pack of Charmin Basic that’s wrapped in a disgusting petrochemical skin when I could spend upwards of $1300 on a two-month supply of wipes wrapped with a ribbon, cleanser and moisturizer packed in plastic that’s then wrapped for shipping, put in a plane, flown from Switzerland, stuck on a diesel truck, and delivered to my door where it’s placed in a dead tree or cow hide and bolted to the wall. Plus, I gotta have a maid whose only job is to retie that bow after each of my four children (Chard, Proton, Toile, and Glacier)  has had a dump and flush.

I love that the starter kit is going into the swag bags at the Oscars. I LOVE the idea of George and Amal arguing about who’s going to run over to Geneva to pick up a pack of tender virgin cellulose because SOMEONE forgot to get it when he was in Zurich last week and SOMEONE ELSE had to use Cottonelle and is now going to have to book a SECOND ANAL BLEACH THIS MONTH because of the redness, YOU CAD!

Joseph, if you’re listening. I will totally be your spokesbutt.

What The Hell?

8 Dec

What the hell is going on? I mean, WHAT. THE. HELL? I just stood up from my desk and applauded Paul Ryan for something other than that awesome beard he’s working on.

We have got to stop leaving milk on the porch for Trump. I think it’s a brilliant move by Hillary’s people to put him on the payroll. Talk about a strategy. Make the other guy look batsh…wait. I am just being informed the talking hairball is not actually on Hillary’s payroll. He’s an actual GOP candidate.giphy

So, we’re going to ban Muslims. Welp, we already thought they should go around nekkid, so I guess that’s a logical next step. We do love a good ban. And they always work so well. Those bans on Chinese and liquor worked out pretty well, right? And so cost effective.

While I’m wound up, THERE IS NO WAR ON CHRISTMAS. Every year we do this same thing. WHO is telling you to shove it when you say “Merry Christmas?” I think maybe the issue isn’t a war on Christmas, it’s more like you’re hanging out with assholes. If you think there’s a war on Christmas, stop shopping. That will cause a detente PDQ.

jingle deez

I get it. The country is becoming brown and you’re scared. Look, you cannot get more WASP than I am. My blood is not red. It’s madras plaid. My parents referred to my afternoon feedings as cocktail time. My church has a Bloody Mary bar. My family goes back to the first white settlers up in this here country. And you know what? I ain’t skeerd. Of course I have a uterus, and that means I’m better regulated than an AK, so I’m pretty safe.

Many Americans don’t know that the first draft of the Second Amendment was actually, “A well-regulated uterus, being necessary for the security of a free State…” It didn’t stay that way. When the delegate–whose name is lost to time–got to “uterus”, the other delegates were all like, “EEEEEEWWW! Lady bits! Forsooth! Brah, you’ve been bewitched. Change it to militia and we’re good. Now, who wants a brewski? Sam’s been working on a pumpkin ale.” But the ghost of that patriot uterus still haunts our national policy. Much like the idea that the little-known delegate Josiah Montrose Starbuck had for hot pumpkin spice drinks which he wrote on the back of a draft of the Third Amendment, and was not found until 2004 when an enterprising ancestor thought it might be nice in the fall.

So…

In conclusion, GET OFF MY YARD!

 

The Ways Of Satin

19 Feb

satin

That silky, silky Satin. He will so vivid you to his lies. Satin will wrap you in luxurious sin. Satin knows. Satin doesn’t ask silly questions. Satin understands.  We all know wedded gays will take you down the path to Satin. In satin. It’s like a never-ending spiral of silkiness.  According to a site called Charismanews.com, Bell, a pastor, talked to Oprah about his new book co-written with his wife Kristen, The Zimzum of Love: A New Way of Understanding Marriage, about his feeling that Christianity is–commence pearl-clutching–evolving:

Explaining to Oprah why they included “gay marriage” in their book, Rob said, “One of the oldest aches in the bones of humanity is loneliness. Loneliness is not good for the world. Whoever you are, gay or straight, it is totally normal, natural and healthy to want someone to go through life with. It’s central to our humanity. We want someone to go on the journey with.”

The site continues with, “…what the Bells want to do is take God’s very specific, beautiful blueprint, and radically redesign it in the name of ‘love.'”

DOUBLE PEARL CLUTCH!!!

How DARE Christians redesign a social construct to fit with a modern definition of another social construct??!!

GET THEE BEHIND ME, SATIN! I CAST THEE OUT AND RENOUNCE ALL MY SATIN DRAWERS FOR ALL-COTTON BECAUSE LET’S FACE IT, THEY’RE MORE COMFORTABLE ANYWAY!

Just for kicks and giggles, read what this site has to say about the Franklin, Tennessee megachurch pastor Stan Mitchell who decided to take that whole love thy neighbor thing seriously and “allow” them gays to hold offices in the church and marry their homo selves there too.

Mitchell told his congregation—a congregation that includes superstar singer-songwriter Carrie Underwood—that practicing homosexuals can be card-carrying members of his Bible-believing protestant church and can even hold their gay weddings in the sanctuary.

Forget gay marriageNow, here’s where Pastor Stan (You know he makes them call him that. You know it.) and I part company. If you are a practicing homosexual, you’ve got no business being married. Until you turn pro, you just can’t make that kind of commitment. Practice makes perfect. Also? I want to see these membership cards. Is there a secret handshake? I love a secret handshake.

But that’s not the point. The point is DO NOT FALL FOR SATIN’S TRICKS OR YOU WILL SOON BE MARRYING A HOMOSEXICAL!

As I Was Saying…

11 Feb

I’ll just let the narrative of where I’ve been for almost a year unfold on its own. In its own time and way. I’ll briefly say that I stopped reading pretty much anything online except anything about hilarious autocorrect incidents. I don’t care how dumb they are, I love that stuff. I made a pledge not to read anything that baited me with CLICK HERE TO SEE WHAT SHE DID or LEARN THIS ONE WEIRD TRICK. That cut down on about 80% of my internet time. I didn’t totally quit Facebook, but I walked out on Twitter. I wish I could say I went out and got a life, but if you’ve read this blog at all you know that requires pants. And you’ll know how I feel about pants.

Let me also tell you this up front. I will not be talking about vaccinations. I’m not going down that rabbit hole. I’m not going to talk about how completely selfish, ignorant, fatuous, narcissistic, narrow-minded, and totally asshatted it is not to vaccinate/immunize your children. Nope. Go somewhere else for that. Like here, for example.

What I WILL discuss with impunity is 50 Shades. Because that shit is hysterical. I will also discuss house cleaning, periods, marriages, abortion, gays, straights, blacks, whites, other regional person shades, my parents, my husband (THE SAINT, but no longer The Ham King), the birds in my backyard, my crazy friends, I’d talk about my sane friends if I had any, underwear and lack thereof, my discovery of Outlander, text messages from my mother, the crickets in our storage closet, what I learned from not watching news regularly, and my need of suggestions for a really good concealer and a conditioner that doesn’t smell like an overworked stripper dipped in coconut car freshener.

I’m also taking suggestions about what animal, vegetable, or mineral I should replace the YAAT bird with. Or if I should replace it at all. If I shouldn’t then blerghe or she needs a name, so I’m open to that as well. Standard Life Coach will be making an appearance, so email your questions using the contact form on this page.

Several of you have been kind enough to ask after my imaginary twins Sizzlene and Formicadinette. Sadly, their birth mother who lives in one of those square states has regained custody of them after realizing their earning potential in the child beauty pageant business and Formicadinette’s ability to make a casserole from little more than and can of creamed corn and Velveeta. Since the are imaginary, they will never grow older and can make quite a killing off the Babee Lil’ Miss Shiny Eyelash Glamour Tot pageant circuit. I’m happy for them, obviously. And, quite frankly, Sizzlene’s inability to master the twirl-n-curtsy was really getting on my nerves. For those of you concerned about The Ham King’s sanity, I’m happy to report that he still would like a life-size Cylon Centurion and enjoys a good hat. And he’s still practiced in the art of diplomacy, but he is no longer The Ham King. I suppose he is now The Nonmetallic Thermal And Acoustical Insulation Production King, but that just doesn’t have the same ring to it. I am extremely happy in his change of kingdoms, as is he.

I was going to finish this post up and go eat delicious homemade chocolate chip and pecan cookies, but I can’t make the damn things. I can’t make chocolate chip cookies. I can make a brown sugar cookie that looks like it should be on the cover of a baking magazine and tastes like eight kinds of heaven, but my chocolate chip cookies ALWAYS come out too cake-like. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. But that does mean I have an entire mixing bowl of cookie dough. So there’s that. Any ideas on why EVERY cookie recipe and technique I use comes out wrong would be greatly appreciated. Could it be I’m getting the sugars and butter too fluffy? Maybe it’s my ass’s way of telling me to slow down with the cookies? Whatever, there are no good cookies and no Cheetos in the house, so I haz a sad.

If you are a new reader, welcome. If you are a returning reader, thank you. I shall endeavor to deserve your time. Just kidding. Ima totally waste it and make you have to read Chekhov to get your IQ back up.

My SuperStrate Marriage™©

26 Jun

Forget gay marriageAre you as bored with my saying I don’t understand what it means to be conservative as I am with not understanding what it means to be conservative? Today SCOTUS tossed out DOMA, a federal law. ONE LESS FEDERAL LAW, PEOPLE! Why are so few of my right wing buddies dancing in the streets? OH! Wait! I remember. With DOMA gone, now I can marry my car, right? And my gay dog can marry my gay goldfish and then adopt a little human Asian baby they can dress in the most fabulous clothes from Baby Boden.

Now that DOMA is gone and California’s Prop 8 is pretty much dunzo, I think I’ll start a log of all the ways teh gay marriage is going to threaten My SuperStrate Marriage™©. So. For the next few days I’ll be chronicling like such. I can tell you this, already I feel a little less feminine. Granted, it might have something to do with the fact I sat out in Standard Shed this morning and forgot to turn on the AC and a raging case of swamp ass began to creep up on me, BUT I JUST KNOW IT’S THE LESBIANS!

I think tomorrow it’s really going to sink in. The gayness. The deterioration of the morality, sanctity, and missionary-style sexiness of My SuperStrate Marriage™©. As it is, I just saw a picture of Ellen Degeneres and thought WOW! Her skin is lovely! I must have this Gay Olay she uses. Will I want to leave the love of my life and move to an all-womyn commune and spend my days rewriting children’s classic books to be gender neutral? Will I become overly fond of the Canadian Tuxedo? Will I listen to nothing but Ani DiFranco? Will Chuck still find me attractive when I wear nothing but flannel? Okay, that’s kind of moot. I’m really fond of seasonally-appropriate flann….OH GAWD! It’s already started!!

Stay tuned, friend(s). I’ll be charting the demise of My SuperStrate Marriage™© right before your very eyes!

Swimming To The Surface

25 Jun

2102_47438731251_2845_nI told you I’d be gone and then back. The “back” part has given me a little trouble. I just spent a long weekend with my honey. I don’t remember the last time we went out of town just the two of us. And this trip was to a magical place with no cellphone reception or internet. It was incredible. And I mean that in the true sense of the word. I actually didn’t believe we were there. It was so amazing, I only complained about bugs like ten times.

We did quite a bit of fishing. By that I mean we sacrificed many yummy worms to tiny baby fish. We only hauled up about three, only one of which was worth heating up the grease for. It was a 22 inch catfish. Yes, I know. I’m supposed to tell you its weight, not its length. We didn’t have anything to weigh it it and I am notoriously bad at estimating anything that requires a number value. “Oh, it’s about a hundred yards from here.” That means nothing to me. A yard, a mile, a hectare? All the same. Oh, and don’t get me started on stones. One stone equals fourteen pounds? You know what else equals fourteen pounds? Fourteen pounds.

But that’s not the point. The point is that I’ve been in a self-imposed news exile for several months. Lookit, I know. I KNOW. You don’t need to give me all the crap about caring what goes on in the world and how we’re all connected and being a clueless American. Suck it. I’ve got enough drama here in the Greater Metropolitan Standard Shed Area. I don’t need yours too. So I’m just going to get it out all in one fell swoop.

Let’s begin, shall we? In no particular order…

  1. SCOTUS knocks down a key piece of Voting Rights Act saying that because it’s worked, we no longer need it. Okay, I see where they’re going with this. Following this logic, The Supremes will ban birth control by ruling, “Hey, you didn’t get knocked up last year, did you? No. It worked. You don’t need it anymore. NEXT!”
  2. Paula Deen’s sons say she’s not a racist! She let us watch Hank Aaron! Y’all, stick some butter in your pie holes and be quiet. But even more? Gentle readers, stop assuming that because she’s a Southern woman of a certain age she doesn’t know any better or doesn’t mean anything by it.
  3. In Texas, according to State Representative Jodie Laubenberg, if you’re raped and report it, you get a complimentary abortion! Apparently, “in the emergency room they have what’s called rape kits, where a woman can get cleaned out.”  To quote my extremely profound husband, “Wow.”
  4. Twenty-three Seven years ago, I was denied admission to Bennington College. Why they chose not to accept my application is beyond me. Who WOULDN’T want me at their school? Who could possibly deny themselves the pleasure of my company? I shall now sue. Some kid gets denied admission to University of Texas and, I can only imagine, is then hounded by some lawyer wanting to make a (literal) federal case that she was denied admission because she was white. So, all I want to say about this is that she WAS admitted to Texas, just not the Austin campus. She then chose to go to LSU. I don’t know the ins and outs of all this, but I do know this: If she’d really wanted to end up on that Austin campus, she could have worked at it. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps and whatnot.
  5. This really isn’t bad news, but I thought I’d include it anyway. Rick Santorum is going to head a “faith-based” movie studio in Dallas. First, moving away from politics is an excellent decision. But. I’m always skeptical of companies who make a big deal that they’re “faith-based” or “Christian”. To me if you’re walking the walk, you don’t need to advertise your talk. I find it in poor taste to use faith and religion in marketing. And by “in poor taste” I mean “desperate”.

The Year As I Saw It

21 Dec

Posting will be even lighter than normal for a while. I’m heavily medicated to make it through until the second week of January or so. Here are some of the most-read posts from 2012 and a couple I threw in just because it’s my blog and I get to do that.

Merry Christmas, y’all!

Sucking The Life Out Of The Holidays

Sucking The Life Out Of The Holidays

Things You Never Hear People Say About Movies

Things You Never Hear People Say About Movies

Why I Stand Up But Stay Quiet

Why I Stand Up But Stay Quiet

Pandora And The GPS Lady Walk Into A Bar

Pandora And The GPS Lady Walk Into A Bar

My Impression Of The Internet

My Impression Of The Internet

Bless Her Heart, She Just Doesn’t Know Any Better

More Like Fashion Backward

More Like Fashion Backward

Culinary Westerns

Culinary Westerns

Sex Gets A Brand Guru

Sex Gets A Brand Guru