Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Post Party Pictures!


Wow, what a great night!

The fags from the Lamplighter Gallery brought cupcakes, or "cockcakes" as they like to call them, for us all to enjoy. Wally refused to eat his because he didn't want to look 'gay.'


Cock Ninja brought an amazing ice sculpture for us all to do shots off of. (You know how he feels about snowmen.)



And Asshat brought, what else but, asshat party favors she made herself.



Ninj came dressed as his most favorite thing in the whole wide world, pussy.


Ferret was angry as hell because all the costume shop had left was this stupid looking bunny suit. It’s your own fault dude, I told you not to wait until the last minute to get a costume.


Wally came as Batman. Alek wanted to come as his ‘Robin,’ but Wally wanted no part in that.


So, Alek decided to come as a fairy. Big surprise, homo.



Guy-Pierre came dressed as Cher from her 1980s music video “If I Could Turn Back Time.”


I don’t know where those two faggots disappeared to mid-way through the party, but I later found one of my carved pumpkins looking like it was molested.



Stallion and Pinky. Pinky thought Stallion was “kidding” about how he got his nickname.

Tranny came dressed as beer, and when we ran out of said refreshment, he tried to drink himself.


Zanna claims she ‘dressed up,’ but I think she just came straight from work at the club.


Twzz hung up her teachers uniform for the night and came as a sexy officer of the law. Wally chased her around the entire time trying to get her to frisk him. Hey, Wally, for future reference: You can’t hide a boner when you are wearing a Lycra body suit, ok?


Apache came as bondage Barbie and, very resourcefully, found use for those toys her kids never play with anymore.


Jane drove all the way down from Canada to be with us for Halloween! And she made sure we heard about it all night.


She couldn’t find a last minute babysitter, so she had to bring her kid along. Yeah, ha ha guys, bring a little kid dressed as Hitler to the ‘Jews’ Halloween party, very funny.


Asshat worked out furiously before the party so she could show up looking like this. Just to get revenge on Ninj for making her blow him underneath the bleachers. As soon as she got her revenge she raided my refrigerator.


It worked, though. Ninj took one look at her, got a hard on, and...well…


Canuck showed up towards the end of the party and really ‘blew us away’ with her costume.



Thanks for making my Halloween special, guys!

Wappy Walloween!!!!

You're welcome.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Monty Python's "Hell's Grannies"

Where's Wally?


Walrus Gumboots has been M.I.A. thanks to Blogger’s ability to fuck up even a free lunch.

So, in an effort to track our friend down I went undercover and searched high and low for him.

First, I followed him to the World Series game. I have never been into sports, but I gotta tell you, I’m starting to see the attraction.


Later that night I found him at home cyber-sexing with “Destiny42.”


The following day they decided to meet. Wally seemed confused meeting “Destiny” for the first time in person…


After that, he took off for France for some rest and relaxation on the Parisian beaches.



When he came back to the States he decided to go visit some of his old buddies in the Military.


Then I saw him at the Lamplighter ‘hanging out’ with those fags Guy and Alek and a bunch of their friends. I think this may be what sent him over the edge.


I don’t want to talk about what I saw there that night…all I will say is that I can never look at a totem pole the same way again.


The last time I saw Wally, he was checking into a ‘therapeutic community’ (i.e., crazy farm) for a mental leave of absence. He is undergoing electroshock therapy and a frontal lobotomy. He said this was his last ditch effort to “regain sanity.” I tried to explain to him that you can’t get back what you never had.


Meh, sanity is overrated anyway…electroshock sounds fun, though.

You can send cards and presents to him at 'New Beginnings' Mental Health 'Facility'...no pointy objects like pens, things with sharp edges or toothbrushes that can be filed down into a knife.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Saturday Afternoon Amusements…


It was windy and rainy in NY today and I was trying to think of something fun to do.

I like to go to museums.

I love art. Art, for me, is what makes life wor
th living. I love wandering around the Met. I can spend hours getting lost in Monet’s use of light or Cezanne’s use of color. I can stare at a piece from Van Gogh or Gauguin and imagine what it was like to live during that time and in those places.


















But more than
that, I like to walk around and talk in different accents and see if I can get total strangers to indulge in my boredom.














Sometimes I am a country girl from Mobile, Alabama:


"Do y'all have that sculpture of the nekkid man by that Mr. Angelo fella here?”

“You mean Michelangelo’s David? No, ma’am, that sculpture is in Florence.”

“Huh. Florence you say? Now, is that on the Upper East Side or in Midtown?”

“It’s in Italy, ma’am.”

“Oh, ok, Little Italy, got it!”











Sometimes I am the deaf gi
rl who grunts and points to her genitals while doing the pee-pee dance. When no one seems to understand what I am grunting about, I pull down my pants and defecate on the museum floor using my ‘complimentary’ brochure as toilet paper. I save that one for after I look at all the art I came to see, since I am usually escorted out soon after.










Sometimes I pretend I am an aristocrat. I dress up, wear a tiara and throw on a heavy Euro-trash accent and insist they sell me the Renoir, and when they tell me it isn’t for sale I get all huffy, make a scene and s
torm out.









Today I was from England. I approached a staff member and asked him where the “loos” were.

He in turn asked me where I was from...in a British accent.

Shit. Busted...Or am I?


“Oxfordshire” I replied.

“Hmm…” he began “Funny thing, I happen to be from Oxfordshire and you don’t sound a bit like you are from there."

"Well, I think I know where I am from and I am from Oxfordshire.You, dear sir, however do not sound like you are from Oxfordshire, you sound more like Kent Surry, the dodgy end.”

He just looked at me.

“Righ
t, well…" I began "Anyway, if you’ll excuse me, must go, need to use the loo. Pip Pip and Cherri-o, mate!”

Bastard. Had to ruin it for me. Fucking British are so uptight, they have no
sense of humor. Not to mention bad teeth. Guess it's time to move on to the Guggenheim...

Return to Oz.

Friday, October 27, 2006

Tell 'Em "Large Marge" Sent Ya...

I'm Just Saying...



"One of These Things (Is Not Like the Others)"

Words and Music by Joe Raposo and Jon Stone


One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others,
By the time I finish my song?

Did you guess which thing was not like the others?
Did you guess which thing just doesn't belong?
If you guessed this one is not like the others,
Then you're absolutely...right!

Thursday, October 26, 2006

I’m So Smart, I’m Dumb...

I amaze myself at how stupid I am sometimes.

What makes this even better is that just the other night I was talking to Zanna and we were laughing at the stupid things we sometimes do. (I’m hoping she’ll share the ‘sneezing at her desk’ story.)

Cigarettes in the city are 8 bucks a pack. I had some free time today and decided to take a drive upstate and buy myself a carton since it’s cheaper.

So, I take my drive and buy my cigarettes. I’m in the parking lot getting ready to leave and decide I’m going to light one up for the drive home.

I realize I don’t have a lighter on me. I don’t have matches either. But, I have my car lighter.

I push my lighter in, wait a few seconds, and it pops out. Hmmm…

Well, you know how it’s usually a reddish/orange when it’s ready?








Mine wasn’t. Mine looked like this--










Must not be working, right?


I touched it with my index finger.

Ow. It works.

That was the shortest few seconds of my life, yet I can vividly remember everything. I can still hear the hissing sound of my skin as it is being singed by the lighter. I can still smell the burning flesh. I can still feel the skin sticking to the heating element.

I sat there for a minute, dumbfounded by what I had just done. Why didn't I just put the cigarette to the lighter to see if it worked instead of my finger? Because. I am an idiot. That's why.

But, luckily, my finger feels fine. I begin to drive away.


Fuck.

It really hurts now. And it’s getting worse.

Its 40 degrees out and windy and I’m driving with the air conditioning on and my mangled finger pressed up against the vent.

I’m cursing at myself the whole way home at how fucking retarded I am. I vow to never smoke again. I have been looking for a reason to quit, and I take this as a sign from God.

So, now I’m sitting here smoking a cigarette with my blistered finger stuck in a jar of Arnica.

Yeah, I know, I said I’d quit. But, the smoking helps the pain. I’ll quit tomorrow.

(Note: I’m hoping you guys will share something totally stupid you have done so that I can laugh about your misfortunes and forget about my own.)

(ASIDE: Luckily, I keep a cooler full of extra organs and extremities from when I used to steal people's kidneys for a living. I'd sometimes take extra 'parts' just so that I have them in case I am ever hard up for cash. Or for rare occasions like this.)


Wednesday, October 25, 2006

His & Her.

I received this from a friend in an email today:

BLOW JOB ETIQUETTE, BY A WOMAN:

1. We are not obligated to do it.

2. I don't care what they did in the porn video you saw; it is not standard practice to cum on someone's face.

3. No I don't have to swallow.

4. My ears are not handles.

5. Do not push on the top of my head. Do you really want puke on your dick?!

6. I don't care how relaxed you get it is never OK to fart.

7. Having my period does not mean that it's "hummer week."

8. If I have to pause to remove a pubic hair from my teeth, don't tell me I've just "wrecked it" for you.

9. Leaving me in bed while you go play video games immediately afterwards is highly inadvisable if you would like my behavior to be repeated in the future.

10. If you like how we do it, it's probably best not to ask about the origins of our talent.

11. No, it doesn't particularly taste good. And I don't care about the protein content.

12. No, I will not do it while you watch TV.

13. When you hear your friends complain about how they don't get blowjobs often enough, keep your mouth shut. It is inappropriate to either sympathize or brag.

14. Just because "it's awake" when you get up does not mean I have to "kiss it good morning".


A MAN’S REBUTTAL:

1. Yes you are obligated to do it. If you don't we will find someone (younger, prettier, and dirtier) who will.

2. If you swallow then you won’t have to worry about getting cum on your face, now will you?

3. Swallowing a teaspoon of cream is a hell of a lot easier than licking a dead fish.

4. I will use your ears as I see fit. Don't worry about it and be thankful I'm not pulling your hair.

5. You want to talk about farting? Does the word QUEEF mean anything to you?

6. When you're on your period, stuffing something in your mouth is the only way to stop your bitching and moaning. Suck it up.

7. At least there is no danger of a dick bleeding in your mouth.

8. Play with the balls.

9. No matter how good you think you are at it, we've had better.

10. Caress the ass, too. We like that.

11. Take advantage of it being "wide awake" in the morning now, because when you get old and fat and you’re looking for some action, we guarantee it'll be "sound asleep".

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Now, I Am Thoroughly Pissed Off…


As if being shit on by a pigeon weren’t enough. One of my loft mates drank the last of my PG Tips tea.

A friend of mine introduced me to this tea a few years back when I was in the UK. Its English tea, and you can get it here, but it’s hard to find and like $30 a box for 250 bags. So, she sends me a box about each month because it’s a lot cheaper and guaranteed that I will have it. We trade, I send her jars of Welch’s grape jelly because she can’t get it in the UK and she sends me the tea.

It’s so fucking good. It’s made from only the tips of black tea leaves and it is in the revolutionary shape of a ‘pyramid’ so that the water just flows right thru and it tastes amazing. Shitty American companies are doing this now, but it’s just that, shit. PG Tips has been doing it for over 75 years and no one can come close to them.

Last year when I came home from England I brought back like 5 boxes of tea and a cooler full of YOP (which I can’t find here either).

I got searched by airport security who
was trying to get me to admit that the tea bags were actually filled with marijuana. Seriously. Everyone knows the weed in England is complete shite, c’mon.

“Why don’t you save us some time and just admit its pot, otherwise, we will have to scan each of these tea bags. Why does one need so much ‘tea’, anyway?”

Because I fucking love it, dick! I told them to go ahead and ‘scan’ 1,250 bags of tea…assholes. And anyway, I just came back from England, duh, the tea capital of the world, what did you think I’d bring home? Tacos?

…Anyway…

I drink this shit like the black man smokes the crack-rock. I don’t even know how many cups a day. You don’t even want to know how much I love it…if I could fuck it, I would. I told you, you wouldn’t want to know.

I didn’t get to have my tea this morning because I over-slept and had to rush out of the house for an ‘ethics lecture’ (ethics and law, how is that for an oxymoron?) Four f-ing hours later, I’m on my way home with major wet panties just thinking about making myself a cuppa’. I open my cabinet….I see the box…I take it out of the cabinet…I open the box…and….its empty.

I threw the box on the ground, stomped on it repeatedly and then proceeded to get a butchers knife, and in ‘Reservoir Dogs’ ear-scene style, went around to all my roommates to find out who the culprit was.

No one came clean.

Everyone lost an ear.
Now, I am not a selfish person. I share and stuff. But they know how I feel about my tea. How would the fag I live with feel if I used the last of his Vaseline? How would the Arab feel if I used his prayer rug as my welcome mat? How would the virgin feel if I fucked her boyfriend because she isn’t putting out? Well, never mind on that last one…but you see what I am getting at. And, its just bad manners to use the last of someone’s ‘whatever’ and not replace it immediately.

So now I’m pissed and I’m jonesing. I called my friend in the UK and she is shipping me more ASAP, but fucking Royal Mail takes for God damn ever so I most likely won’t have it until next week. So, until then I am stuck drinking shitty Lipton tea, which is only bearable thanks to the two shots of Jameson I added.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Are You Kidding Me?

Hello,

RE: The Madonna Adoption stuff - You and your little friends at Superficial need to top talking shit about black people. You think you're nice and safe hiding behind anonymous screen names talking shit, but if you were real, you'd walk up to a black person and say that stuff in their face. See what would happen to you. You and all your little racist friends need to cut that shit out or stop being punk bitches and say that in the face of a black person and see how they set you straight. Now take my message and share it with the rest of the prejudice people at that site. Racist fuck.
Sincerely,
The Stool Pigeon

This message was delivered from RatMail.com!
Tell on a cheating girlfriend, rude co-worker, your friends or anyone just for fun. Try it now below.
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******************************************

Dear Stool Pigeon,

I am not prejudice against black people.

I am prejudice against all people. And some farm animals.

If you cared to check your facts, you would see I make fun of everyone. Including myself.

I assumed you were black from your hatemail to me. But then I realized, its far well to written to be a black person writing it. If you were black it would have went more like; “Yo, biz-nich Im'a stop by yo' crib tonight, after I finish my crack deals and pimpin' my hiz-oes, and bust a cap in yo' cracker ass, ya' heard?!”

Stereotypes exist for a reason—because they hold, at least some, truth.

Case in point:

1. Jews ARE cheap.
2. Indians DO smell like curry.
3. Blacks like to fuck and have A LOT of kids.
4. Almost ALL serial killers are white males.
5. Women DO drive like shit.
6. Asians DO take their cameras everywhere.
7. Guineas ARE in the mafia.
8. Mexicans ARE dishwashers/roofers/landscapers.
9. Puerto Ricans WILL cut you.
10. Rednecks DO sleep with their sisters.
11. Gays DO spread AIDS.
12. British people DO have fucked up teeth.
13. Catholic priests DO like sex with little boys.

What nationality am I? I am:

German—and yes, I like to get shit on during sex.
Russian—and yes, I have used criminal methods to achieve my riches.
Irish—and yes, I am a drunk.
Polish—and yes, I am fucking dumb as a rock.
Native American-and yes, I happen to enjoy the Village People. Especially the Injun.

Also, I have had a decent amount of bone inside me, being that I am a slut and all. And I certainly DO NOT cock-discriminate. My last boyfriend happened to be a sand jockey, oops, sorry I mean ‘Iranian.’

I did, in fact send your message to the rest of my 'racist' friends, to which they responded:

"It sounds like they are hiding behind a fake name as well, unless
blacks are naming their children after Pigeons."

"I think this poor fucker is just off his/her meds. Plus, if he/she ever saw the amount of harrassment AnnBeav takes for allegedly being jewish, he would know he sent his message to the wrong person.

"Why is it I envision "stoolie" with an afro and a black power hair pick?. Christ, I can't tell you how many fucking jokes I have to withstand for being Italian, Cuban and Irish. "

"You think I don't hear shit about being Italian. It's pretty funny they choose the name Stool Pigeon, considering stool is a piece of shit."

"I have many a black friend, and they say some of the most racist shit I've ever heard, and they laugh when I give it right back to them because they don't have their heads up their asses. This pigeon needs to pass a stool. Uptight asshole."

"Well I'm shaking in my shoes."

And I took the liberty of showing your email to my black roomate, who wanted me to tell you: "If you ARE black, you are REALLY bad at it, nigga."

Thanks for giving me material, tosser.

Sincerely,

A. Beav.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

The Bachelorette: Halloween Edition

I didn’t forget about you fellas! Halloween is my favorite time of year, and if you are like me you probably have a party to attend. Dateless for the party, guys? Think again, these ladies are ready to make your evening one you’ll never forget!

Regan MacNeil. Regan is a spirited young girl. Sometimes Regan suffers from tourettes and vomits for no apparent reason, but don’t be alarmed, she has so much to offer. She is a practitioner of levitation and is very flexible—she can walk on her hands and even turn her head 180 degrees! If you are into getting wild between the sheets, Reagan is the girl for you. She’s been known to get kinky with a crucifix, if you know what I mean.


Carrie White. A shy, awkward girl, Carrie is simply looking for that special man to make her feel beautiful. Although not the most popular in her school by any means, Carrie was voted Prom Queen by her peers. Isn’t it every man’s fantasy to date the Prom Queen?! Carrie enjoys warm fires and dislikes pork products.





Mrs. White. Mrs. White happens to be Carrie White’s mother. They thought it would be fun to sign up for online dating together. Mrs. White is a single mother with good Christian values. Her faith is very important to her, at home, Mrs. White set an alter up in her pantry closet where she and Carrie pray regularly. Mrs. White enjoys candles and has a large collection of kitchen cutlery.


Mrs. Bates. Mrs. Bates is a very quiet, older woman who keeps mostly to herself. She has one grown son, Norman, whom she is very overprotective of. Norman believes his mother is too involved in his love life, but Mrs. Bates disagrees. Although she may come off as demanding and controlling, it’s only because she loves her son very much. Aw…that’s nice, isn’t it?



Annie Wilkes. A Registered Nurse, Romance novel fanatic and great with an axe—what more could you ask for in a woman! Annie enjoys scrap booking and is a self proclaimed neat freak. She keeps a very meticulous home and likes things in their proper place, especially her knick-knacks. Annie is a true lady and never uses foul language, opting instead to use words such as "cockadoodie" and "dirty birdie” to express her anger for a situation.


Paris Hilton. The image above was taken from her re-enactment of ‘The Blair Witch Project’—“I just want to apologize to Firecrotch and Tinkerbell and Nicole…I am so scared! I don't know what's out there…This is so NOT hot…I’m going to die out here!” Its gripping, I’m telling you. Complete with snot (i.e. cum) running down her face and everything. Although…there has been some talk that Paris may have the herp, so she should really only be used as a last resort.
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