Christmas time is the worst time.

Man...I hate Christmas so much, I mean I love the food and the stupid presents, but I hate fake relatives I only see once a year, actually I hate all my relatives, and the cold bitter snow makes it that much worse. All I want to do this Christmas is go to Betos and get a mixed breakfast burrito with a large Jamaica, mmm... then go back home and loosen my belt up and sit my ass in front of the TV and fall into a deep DEEP sleep and wake up cuddling the remote.

The remote control, I get chills just listening to it. It's one of man's greatest inventions. I'd say the remote is the modern day Holy Grail, everyone goes crazy trying to find it, but when its found it's like getting your number called after you've just ordered food. It gives you so much power and control of the TV that it almost feels undeserving. I hate when my little brothers hold the remote with two hands, its supposed to be a simple one handed device. The proper way to control the remote is with four fingers cradling the bottom, the thumb pushing the buttons and the other hand used for scratching, eating, penetrating and hitting. It's basically the reverse way to hold a hamburger.

Finallly got it!

T.D.K.

Its coming you sons of bitches.

The last thing I ate before using the bathroom.

Two egg sandwiches with cheese. Greasy sausage patties. A couple glasses of Tang. Some leftover Chinese food. A Twix. Root Beer Soda. Some steamed brocoli I had in the fridge. A Hot Pocket with peperonni and cheese. A Chocolate Poptart. And like a cherry on top ... a McDonald's Quaterpounder with cheese. and now i'm here in teh lil' boyz restroom typing this. Do tha math. ;)

Wrestling, a non-sexual sport.

I am a fan of many sports. Wrestling is one of them, but sometimes it can go beyond wrestling. In a blink of an eye it can turn into "unintentional contact." A lot of times they try to cover it up with lame excuses. Check these out, you'll see what I mean.

"Do you mind if I keep my head under here for a while?,
my ears are cold."


"This won't hurt, and no, it's not what it seems.
Just relax. Don't fight back...i love you?"

Guy on bottom: "Hi..."
African American: "shut tha hell up or ill kill yo ass!"

Diary of a cat.

-Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. I must eat something in order to keep up my strength.The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.

In an attempt to disgust them, I vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made lame comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.

The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe —for now...

Things you don't know about me, and you wish you didn't.

Behind closed doors, there is another side to me that many dont get to see. I have some habits and traits that are unnattractive. Here they are in no particular order.

-When i fart, ill bend over so i can smell it. I will usually take 2 or 3 smells as i like the smell of my farts.

-when i scratch my ass, i smell my finger

-Sometimes, no matter how much i wipe, i still get skid marks.

-i pick my nose and eat it(sometimes).

-i have gone up to a month without brushing my teeth.

-i have worn the same pair of underwear for several days until they are crusted yellow in the crotch and they smell like ammonia.

-I shower about once a week.

-if i drop food on the floor, ill pick it up and eat it. I have also have taken food out of my trash can and eaten it.

-When i floss my teeth or pop zits, ill smell what came out.

-I like to eat the fat from meat(i.e. steak fat, roast beef fat ect.) I also will eat the grisle and soft bones.

-When i havent showered for a week, my arm pits stink like cheeseburgers, and my crotch smells like ammonia,urine and funk.

-I have terrible acne on my ass

I peed on my hand.

So, I get to work today at about 9:05. Said hello to a few co-workers, checked e-mail, organized my day. Naturally looked through the craigslist posts to see what new crap was posted--always a nice way to begin your day with a smile.

Around 9:25 ish my bladder reminded me it was time for the morning pee break. We have the pretty standard restroom: couple of stalls, 2 urinals and two sinks---not a wharehouse, but not the private heaven some of the more senior execs are entitled to. Anyway, I walk into our empty restroom and belly up to my favorite pisser(the one on the far left). Unzip, left thumb hooks boxers and keeps them in the down position (I hate using the little hole) and the right hand grabs the old johnson rod. Like any other guy, I stare blankly ahead and let er go: just aim and shoot.

It was then I feel the warm stream running down my hand. Seems as if there was a blockage at the exit and it caused the stream to shoot off at the random angle that got my hand. Easy fix: clench, flick, resume pissing. But the bliss is gone, because now I have a peed-on hand. I finish up and head to the sink.

Don't get me wrong---I don't really care about a little pee on the hand--I mean, it's sterile when it comes out of your body (look it up if you don't believe me). So I'm washing up and look in the mirror to discover that it not only got on my hand, but my pants as well. And, as luck would have it, I wore khaki today, so the watermark shows up real nice right around the crotch area. "oh shit..."i said to myself, and consider the best way to clean up the mess.

I could make a dash for my desk and sit there, but I have to move around at work quite a bit, so the chances of me drying out before I have to get up and deal with someone are slim. I could try drying it with paper towles, but have you ever tried to dry fabric with paper towles? Doesn't really work. So I go for option c: take some water from the sink and spash my crotch and upper thighs. If anyone sees me I get to tell a funny story about how I was too enthusiastic at the sink, we have a good laugh, and they never know the dirty secret my cunning strategy is hiding. Nice.

Ok: water on, wet the hands and flick some drops. Hmmm...not quite enough. Maybe a few more...nope, doesn't look right. Maybe a small handfull....SHIT!!! SMALL HANDFULL, MORON! The wet area around my crotch is now covering the size of a dinner plate and extends to mid thigh on both legs. I look like I took a super-soaker and stuck it down my pants.

Well, the paper towel option is the next best bet. For the first time I curse not having a hot air hand dryer: I hate those things, but it would be just the ticket here. I grab a handfull of paper towles and retire to the stall--god forbid someone should walk in now. I quickly start to pat and rub, hoping to soak up some of the water from the deluge and get back to the 'sink accident' story.

Funny thing about some bathroom paper towles. You don't notice it when drying your hands, but then again, your hands aren't made of cloth. They don't do so good as a clothing drying medium--they tend to come apart. As I am rubbing the towles over my pants they start to break down into their smallest element: white lint. Which is now stuck all over the front of my pants. I try to use more to wipe off the lint, and just get lintier. Now the front of my pants has a water stain the size of a dinner plate with miniature pieces of white fluff all over it.

I glance at my watch and realize I am out of time---my 2 minute break to the men's room is now pushing 10, and I have to get back soon. What I want to do is sit in here, take off my pants and pretend I am taking a half-hour deuce so I can let the water dry, but have no time. I gotta chance it. One last check in the mirror, crack the door....good, no one looking, casually stroll back to the desk....good....sit and breath a sigh of relief.

So, here I am now, furtively fanning my crotch, trying to look busy so someone doesn't come by and try to get me to stand up. I've already caught a few odd looks, but hopefully they think I am just scratching (a lot...).

'stache.

Recently grew out my mustache. There's so many advantages and more opportunity's in life when you have a mustache. I went to wal-mart the other day to buy some prime-time cigars but they didn't have any, so I had to buy some shitty grape cigar things that made my mouth taste like a purple colored smoke bomb from those gay black cat stands. The cashier that checked me out didn't even ID me. I asked her "aren't you gonna id me?" she said "why?, you look old enough with that mustache and all."

For those of you idiots that don't know what a mustache is, here's a definition:

A moustache (or mustache) is facial hair grown on the upper lip. Often the term implies that the wearer grows only upper-lip hair while shaving the hair on his chin and cheeks. Growth of all facial hair would constitute a beard.

Some common nicknames for the mustache are stache, tache, tash, mo, lip turd and/or lip shit, man rug.

There are numerous slang terms for the moustache mostly reflecting its resemblance to a variety of animals, its tendency to retain food and drink or its association with sexual activity, for example nose neighbor, Lady Tickler, trash stash, fanny duster, nose bug and mobile tea strainer.

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