Granny

Granny Wants Bacon



Baby? Baby?

Baby, you there? I could really use some bacon.

Ya see, I’ve been hankering bacon for awhile now and your granny could really use some?

Are those the coveralls your granddaddy bought you?

Oh, my, you’re really becoming a man.

Say, could you be a dear and put some bacon in for me for supper?

Nine strips should do.

Oh, deary, I’ve gone and lost my glasses. Honey, could you find my spectacles and then make me some bacon?

Oh, well now, you’ve got me thinking. Could you go ahead and make some toast, tomato, and mayonnaise to put around that bacon.

Back in the day we used to call that a BLT.

Oh, baby, you’ve grown so much.

Sure, it’s in the fridge, next to the pickles.

Oh, I love bacon. The doctors tell me that it’s bad for me, but I don’t mind them doctors. Baby, make me some bacon.

Your mother always had an awful time with that stove, too. You have to turn all the burners on, then off, then turn around and say a Hail Mary and then turn them back on and it’ll work.

Give it time.

Oh, I can’t wait to have some bacon.

Baby, did I ever tell you that we used to grow bacon?

It’s a stone fact! In fact, we used to have bacon-growing-Sundays where we’d plant bacon in the backyard and watch it grow.

Back then, if you had any size of a yard, you’d be growin’ bacon. Boy, I loved growing bacon. Your mother and I would have a time of it.

Yeah, that tomato has always been moldy. Just cut off the side of it and serve me the innards.

Anyway, so we’d plant bacon and watch it grow. Bacon has a gestation period of nine minutes.

So, once you’ve planted it, you just watch as it curls up out of the garden and then you pick it around noon.

Oh, boy, I miss those days.

And I miss your mother.

Is she back from Thompson’s yet?

Oh, she is?

Then why isn’t she helping you make me bacon?

Oh, baby, I understand, she’s got things to do.

Oh, thank you baby.

Could you hand me the pepper.

Oh, this is the best sandwich I’ve ever seen.

Well, besides that one I made with JFK and MLK.

OH, dear me. I’m sorry. I never told you about that?

War Bad, Peace Good

OPINION

War Bad, Peace Good

By, Angie Bergman
Golden

I think war is bad. Peace is definitely a better proposition when you think about it. No more people exploding and shooting at each other – wouldn't that be great? You bet it would! I also think that people should stop swearing and cussing and such, it's just not very good. Like, today, I went to the market and there were these two kids on bikes in front of the doors and the one of them says to the other "Hey, you BLEEP, you wanna catch a movie?"
What kinda potty talk is that? Maybe if people cleaned up the language a bit, there'd be peace on this great Earth.
Another reason war is bad is that it takes my Hubby away from me. I mean, don't get me wrong, I support our troops and our President, but I sure would rather have my Hubby, Ken, back from Iraq. Every time I see a news report about people in Iraq and all the deaths, I nearly lose my mind. But, I still support our President and our troops, especially my husband. I guess I wish that Saddam would just tell us where those naughty WMDs are so that we can leave and have one of our diplomats run that place for those folks over there.
I hear a lot of people bad mouthing our President for sending our troops over there and starting a war, but there is NO WAY that a Christian would start a war without a good reason. So, to all you anti-war nogoodniks out there, I have this to say: I have a two-year-old son and his daddy is over there fighting for your freedom – so, there! If you think you have a better idea than fighting that evil Saddam, I'd like to hear it.
So, in conclusion, war is bad and peace is good. But, you have to support your President and your Hubby! :)

War Kicks Fucking Ass

By, Aarron Hagness
Omaha

Dude, fucking war is fucking awesome. Have you watched the news today? Fuck, they totally blew a prison up with mortars! Now if that isn't some bad-ass great escape shit, I don't know what is. Fuckin' A, I don't even need to rent movies anymore, I've got Al Jazeers, C-SPAN, CNN, the whole bit. I fucking love this shit. Don't get me wrong, I know there's motherfuckers dying over there, right, but, hell people die all the time. My grandma died a month ago, but you know what? She didn't die bad-ass like this one Iraqi I saw who got his whole mug ripped off when a jeep got totally blown up. FUCK, I love this war. I mean, peace would be cool in the way that you could go to Iraq and maybe bang some Iraqi chick because maybe you wear love beads or something...but, nah, that probably wouldn't happen. I know this hippie dude, Chris Sherman, he's all into that hippie shit: smoking dope, burning incense and all that shit and that fucker never gets laid. Probably cuz he's also a fat ass. Fucking a lot of hippies turn into fat asses cuz a' all that pot and shit. Anyway, so, I just saw this one G.I. getting carted away from some Fa-lu-jallah or something conflict, he was all bandaged up and shit – just like in Platoon. Fucking, this war rocks. I hope they show more coverage though, I've mostly been staring at the remains of that prison and I'm like playing "Where's Waldo" with trying to see any blood on the walls or street. None yet, but Oh well. Fuck it. If this goes on, I'm totally popping in Die Hard. Fucking war is awesome.

Please Take Your Boot Off of My Neck

By, Hussein Kazi
Tikrit

One thing I know about you Americans, is that you are a kind and gentle people and that you only go to war when you have to. With that said, is there anyway you could take your boot off my neck? I understand that it's your job to keep the peace over here, but really, I was only trying to bootleg this gasoline so I could feed my family. It's not like I'm some mafia guy, I'm just a guy who could really use a pita or two to feed a family of five. If you would be so kind as to remove your boot from my neck, I would gladly give you this gasoline and never do it again. I totally understand your situation, but even if you have to arrest me, you could handcuff me or something. We've been having this relationship (your boot, my neck) for over a half-hour now and my neck is really hurting me. Not only that, but my back is all twisted and my leg hurts. So, if you wouldn't mind, please remove your boot from my neck. Thanks!

Hey, Bud, I Would Totally Take my Boot Off of Your Neck if the Last Guy Who I Removed my Boot from Didn't Shoot me in the Arm

By, Pt. Neil Armstrong
Location Withheld

Hey, buddy, I totally see where you're coming from. I'm black, and I've had many cops put there boot on the necks of friends and family, and I sympathize – utterly. But, you see, I was in this situation (my boot/Iraqi neck) before and I took my boot off of the guy's neck and he turned around and shot me in the arm, see? So, where I abhor brutality in any form, I also have a thing for my arm not being shot. Not only that, but having my face shot off or anything else on my body shot. So, for the time being, I'm going to keep my boot on your neck until backup arrives and I can properly process you. Sorry.

Dead Cat

I Wanna Kill Your Cat



(This is my brand new punk song lyrics, enjoy)



I wanna kill your cat

I wanna trash your head

With my bat

I wanna break open a garbage can on your head

Yours truly,

You’re fucking dead

Kill your cat

But down, deep inside

I want to bury my head

In your guacamole

I wanna lick out your lies

And make handle bars out of your thighs

Kill your Cat!

Ah

Uh?

Kill your Cat!

In your bathroom sink!

Pretty kitty

So very pretty underneath the pink

Oy!

Oy!

Fuck Oy!

Damn kitty cat

Itsty Cat

Fuck

Shit

Piss

Kill your cat!

Uh?

Suh?

Go down and get a

Slurpee

Slurpee

Slurpee

Uh?

Uh, yeah

Uh, YEAH!

Oh, baby once I get you home

I’m gonna make you a cat

Oh your dead cat!

Your dead cat!

Uh?

Enzyte Day One

Enzyte Day One: My Dick is Still Small

"Size DOES matter"
- Blonde in my junk email

Drinking is a funny thing; it's even funnier when you have a credit card...
Listen:
I'm, by no means, a normal person. If anything, I'm slightly deranged. This isn't a boast - I'm not "wacky" crazy like Gallagher, I'm really fucked-up in the head.
With that in mind, there were two instances in which I became deranged with a credit card and a stomach full of hops that will make no sense to anyone; but, may shed light on why I continue to kill myself with smokes, booze, and pharmaceuticals.
I guess it comes from one-part boredom and one-part utter loneliness.
Whether I'm funny or not is definitely up for debate, and I'm sure we'll all chime in on the chatter box to state the latter. But, it is a means in which I entertain myself when I'm bored.
I'm sure most of you have seen me pan handle out in the streets of Seattle, offer gum to random strangers, interview people on the street for a fictitious newspaper, etc....
General hijinx.
Well, one night I found myself bored; but, this time I was alone. I guess you could call this comedic masturbation, but I phoned an infomercial number and actually ordered the product.
In this instance, it was that book about ways to make money from the government. I have yet to open it; but, I did purchase it.
Now, the whole act of ordering the 45-dollar book was just hilarious (to me) – call it performance art. I couldn't stop laughing afterwards, and where it wasn't worth 45 dollars – it was fucking hilarious: just the idea of being drunk and ordering something so stupid.
Yes, I'm deranged...anyway, the way I made it even more fun was I put on the accent of a drunk, elderly, Southern-American.
Below is the transcript (2001) as much as I remember:

Operator: Hello, thank you for calling ????, how can I help you?
Me: I'd like to order the money makin' book.
Operator: Excuse me?
Me: The book that that one geeky fella with the haircut is tryin to sell.
Operator: Oh, the ?????
Me: Yeah, that's the one, how much for that BOOK!
Operator: Let me see, that would be......?????
Me: Well, that's great, cuz I could use it – I figure the government owes me a lot of money – at least as far as I reckon.
Operator: Sure, sir. So, you would like to order the book?
Me: Yeah, put me down for the BOOK!
Operator: OK, could I get your credit card number?
Me: Sure, (loud burp) that'd be ______
Operator: Back to the rest of Matt's article.

And so on. I don't really remember much of the phone call, except that I sounded like Foghorn Leghorn and that I burped loudly at one point in time.

Months ago, I found myself drunk once again, on the couch, and bored. I'm sure everyone has seen the Enzyte commercial with the guy with the big grin promising a bigger, stiffer dong.
Well, not only that, but it's free – well, there's shipping and such, but basically it's free.
Now, every ex I have can verify that I (of course) wouldn't need such pills and that three inches satisfies most women...but, this wasn't about my dong – no, this was about being drunk on a couch and having no one but an operator to make an ass of myself in front of.
Also, I used a MasterCard that was maxed out.
Therefore, in no way am I ashamed about the Eor (eeee-yore) (spl?) tail that is nailed to my pelvis and I really didn't want the crap.
With that in mind, I donned the Foghorn Leghorn accent I used before.

Operator: Bristol Meyers and associates, how can I help you?
Me: Yeah, I want some of those pills that make your pecker grow!
Operator: Excuse me, sir?
Me: The pills on the TV ad, with the guy smiling and all...cuz his pecker's all big now.
Operator: I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to give me the proper name of the product in order to process your order.
Me: Goddamnit! The...what's it.....? The ENZINE!
Operator: Are you referring to Enzyte?
Me: Yes, goddamn! The Enzyte! I want summa that Enzyte – make my pecker grow!
Operator: OK, sir. How did you hear about the product?
Me: It's that liberal show, with the Jew....John's Show...or the Daily Funnies....GODDAMNIT! It's on that Comedy Centrals network.
Operator: Alright, sir, and have you ever used Enzyte before?
Me: No, I haven't, but the TV commercial says it'll give me a bigger wang and I need that. My wang's wee and tiny and my wife passed away recently and I need confidence if I'm about to go looking for love.
Operator: Alright, sir, could I have your credit card number?

And with that, I burped and ordered the Enzyte – knowing my card was maxed out.
Well, that was two months ago and last night I got a bottle of the stuff.
......
......

.....of course I popped one - why not, it won't hurt......

People just don't understand my humor....especially when it causes me personal embarrassment and 6.95 in shipping and handling...

-Mother

Cleaning the Soup

Compliance



Currently, my company is being audited in the wake of the new Sarbanes-Oxley laws. These laws were created in the wake of Enron to ensure that corporations aren't baking their books.

So, basically, I have to start writing some sort of documentation on this shit.

I'd rather eat my own hat, but since I'm not wearing a hat, let's go ahead and take a look at a memo I just received.



There is the opportunity for confusion that can arise during a Section 404 audit, based upon the differing vocabularies of inexperienced audit team members and those of technologists. To help mitigate....



It goes on to explain that you should use a list of Terms in place of the type that might be misunderstood (read: land the company in hot water).



Here's the list.



Use:



Management makes ongoing determinations of business risk and documents these decisions where the level of risk could impact operations or the financials.



Don't use:



Well, yeah, they asked me to look at the financials and all that shit, but I decided to eat this sandwich. Fuck, this is a good sandwich. They melt the cheese and put peppercinis on it and...what did you want again?



Use:



While an initial pass might see this as a gap, a more thorough understanding of our operations can identify a series of compensating controls that reach the same end.



Don't use:



Whoa, we really fucked this one up. Good lord!



Use:



Management has deemed this level of documentation to meet our control objectives while not impacting the efficiency of our operations.



Don't use:



The last time we documented anything it was when we were explaining our way out of the fact that we expensed some hookers in Omaha.



Use:



Management is working to build upon our current and already acceptable control environment.



Don't use:



We talked about doing that, but then I decided to go buy this sandwich and then forgot about it. Now, I think I'm going to surf the net for porn and hope that someone puts it together for you folks. Man, honey mustard has got to be the best idea since dijonaise.



Use:



We have a series of detective controls in place that accompany our preventive controls.



Don't use:



I have no clue how to stop an employee from funneling money to an overseas account.



Use:



Our controls are well designed and operating effectively.



Don't use:



This one dude I know used to have this program that, get this, could copy financial accounting records and download them into this...oh, shit, you're that dude from that auditing thing. Oh, I'm fucked now. Look, I'll give you the rest of this sandwich if you don't tell anyone what I just told you.



Use:



Access controls, internal controls.



Don't use:



The porno police.



Use:



We are building evidentiary materials for controls that have been in place for a period of time.



Don't use:



C'mon, man, pleeeeeeeeeeeaaase don't tell my boss that I'm the guy that told you that shit about Manny. OH FUCK, I JUST FUCKED MANNY OVER!!!



Use:



I'll need you to connect with my manager on that.



Don't use:



Shit, Manny already has two felonies. Christ, this is not happening. Hey, whatchu know about THIS?! Yeah, I'll gut you like a fish with this letter opener if you don't promise to keep your yapper shut about anny-may.



Use:



Discussing systems that impact and can map back to the financials.



Don't use:



Discussing that one chick you banged last night.



Use:



Management has determined the scope of our testing, self-audits, controls, etc.



Don't use:



Yabba Dabba Do!



Use:



Adequate levels of governance and oversight; management sign-off.



Don't use:



It's your fault! You walked into the letter opener! Oh, shit, man! Oh, shit! I just killed the accountant dude. Fuck, Freddy, we're going to Aruba.

Funniest Google I've Seen

And I've seen some messed up ones.



"What is getting laid"



Dare I say, cute?

Yota

Standard Practice

There's this poster in my cube of a dog driving a car, with the caption "Oh, great. The traffic cop is a cat."

There's something lousy and sad about this and I cannot quite put my finger on it, but I know it involves a certain type of manner that goes against every grain of my body.
More about my cube: we have a fridge that is rearranged, guarded, and cleaned by a coworker. She checks the fridge daily for anything amiss. If there are any food items in the fridge for more than two days, she'll inquire as to whose they are and whether they need to be thrown out. Also, if you place anything in the fridge, she eyes you, looking for anything suspicious or offensive that may enter the fridge. And in this way, she now, somewhat owns the fridge. That is why there is a picture of a dog driving a car on it.
Outside, there is a pond full of fish and discarded shopping carts that is the color of a dollar bill used to clean auto parts. People walk around this pond and chat. I have no patience for chatting, I don't even know what I would chat about.
The pond?
Probably, I don't care to talk about myself and the pond is the only other thing that would come to mind. I think I would comment that it looks like a dollar bill used to clean auto parts and then I would have nothing else to say.
The person I was chatting with would probably have other things to say. They would probably ask me questions about different things, but I still wouldn't chat. I would just answer the questions in one sentence murmurs.
Chatting is something I'm not good at.
Everyone in my cube is out today, except for me. They are participating in a "Methodology" class. I participated, too, for one day, then I decided I didn't want to go anymore. It was for three hours and I found that I couldn't concentrate on what the man was talking about and I debated whether I should work out that night for most of the time. So, I emailed my boss and told her that I didn't want to go anymore and she said she "appreciated my honesty."
So, I'm in the cube alone.
In seven minutes I will go have a cigarette and then I'm going to read for awhile.
I believe this is how "blogging" works: you write down things about yourself and hope that someone will find them interesting. This is my "blog."
I have never blogged before. I've posted things, but they weren't really about me in the literal sense. They were mostly jokes about things with angry/weird commentary. But, I think today I shall blog like the professional bloggers do, and I will tell you everything about my life today.
This will be the first posting, but I will continue to post throughout the day. Because of this, I will not edit these either (not that I do a good job of editing the others, but at least I give them a second look), because it will take too long.

I have been writing this for around ten minutes. So, I will do ten minute bursts.
OK, here we go: real blog.