House of the Beaver

A Christmas Gift.

2006-12-14T15:21:00.000-05:00

Top 10 men not to date...

(Please take note: While you clearly want to avoid a serious relationship with any of the below it is, of course, totally acceptable to sleep with them.)

1. The College Freshman. In theory this sounds great. He's young and horny, always up for sex. And since it’s his first time away from home and he is lonely for affection, he even spoons you afterwards. But then comes morning, along with reality, and you begin to notice things. Things like the skidmarks in his Sponge Bob boxer shorts. And before you know it, you are in his dorm room on a Friday night with him and his friends making a gravity bong out of a bucket and a Mountain Dew bottle, snorting Pixie Stix, and downing shots of Jager and Red Bull (which, of course, you had to buy since he is underage).

2. The Crazy Guy. I don't like surprises. Or competition. I like to know that I'm the craziest one in the relationship. Check his medicine cabinet, if he is on more than one kind of mood elevator--steal his drugs and then chuck him.

3. The Waiter "Slash". Everyone in this fucking town is a Waiter/Actor/Model/Musician...Hey, I just took a shit on a piece of stretched canvas, does that make me an "Artist" now? Date guys with realistic aspirations. Aspiring to be promoted from jizz mopper to peep-booth operator, now that's realistic.

4. The Foreigner. Sure, he owns his own restaurant, wears real gold jewelry and cooks the best Prawn Curry and Poori you have ever tasted. But, once you find out he has 9 kids and 6 wives back home in Abba Dabba to support, suddenly, its not so romantic.

5. The "Hot" Guy. I don't mean a 'metrosexual.' Metrosexual's are not straight men--they are closet cases in transit to gayville. I mean a guy who is all around better looking than you are. This is never a good thing. You should always date someone at least slightly less attractive than yourself. Why, you ask? Because it guarantees that you are always the center of attention/jealousy and you always want to leave yourself with the option to upgrade while making sure the guy has no place to go but down. Plus, ugly guys try harder to please you in bed. That is a fact.

6. The Guy at the Gym. He's gay. Move on. Only gay men care that much about what their asses look like. No straight man would spend 30 minutes a day on the Stairmaster perfecting his glute’s. Straight men only care about what our asses look like. Seriously, he's gay. Move on, or take him shopping.

7. The Religious Guy. Especially the Christians. Just avoid these guys in general. Unless you really like anal sex. I say that because, of course, it doesn't really count as 'sex' unless there is vaginal penetration, so, technically its not a sin.

8. Poet Guy. Poetry is for gays. And women. No straight man should recite poetry. Ever. Guys were made to be tough. If some drunken asshole spills his drink on you in a club your man should instinctively turn around and punch the motherfucker in the throat. He should not politely ask the motherfucker to please be careful and then quote T.S. Eliot.

9. Overly-sensitive Guy. Yes, I know he could fall into the “Poet Guy” category, but then I wouldn't have 10 types of guys, I'd only have 9, and you can't have a 'Top 9 List,' it just doesn't make any sense....Anyway. While it’s nice to have a guy who is in touch with his feelings, there is a line to be drawn. For example, if you tell your guy you have the worst PMS cramps and he replies: "Oh, my God! Me too! I could just feel your pain! We are so in sync!" Dump him immediately. This is the same guy that will cry at chick flicks and make you kill the spider because it’s too scary for him. Coincidentally enough, these are often the same guys that turn out to be gay. Or Christian. Or both.

10. Kevin Federline. Do I really need to explain it?

(*Gag* I actually had to Google "Sexy Kevin Federline Pictures" —the above is all they came up with.)

Dear PETA...

2006-11-20T06:59:00.000-05:00

Dear PETA,

I am writing you let you know that I am doing my part to protect the turkeys this Thanksgiving.

I went to my local gro'cho store and adopted a turkey named Perdue. I think she is French, but I'm not sure. Anyway, while I was there I decided to adopt a few lobsters too.

I know lobsters aren't very 'Thanksgiving-y', but they have rights too! You should really consider a "Save the Lobsters" campagin, you know? I mean, yeah, lobsters aren't very cute and cuddley, but they are people too and just because they look different doesn't mean they don't count. Something to think about.

But I digress.

When I got Perdue home I noticed she was looking a little pale, so I stuck her in the oven, which is really just a 'tanning salon' for turkeys.

She spent 4 hours in the 'salon' at 325 degrees. It worked. When she was done with her session, she had a nice golden tan.

Also, my lobsters smelled a little fishy. I tell you, it is really a crime how they treat the animals in the gro'cho store--pale turkeys and smelly lobsters? You should really do something about that too, protest or something.

Anyway, I prepared a hot bath for the lobsters and scrubed them clean. Boy, did they hate that! They were screaming the entire time, it reminded me of a little kid throwing a tantrum when its 'bath time.'

As you can see, both the turkey and the lobsters are looking much healthier since I have adopted them.

The only thing is, they aren't very responsive, they just sort of sit there. I don't think they make very good pets. I am considering letting the pack of wild Indians next door adopt them.

They look like a friendly bunch, don't they? I think it would really make their celebration of Thanksgiving special.

Sincerely,

A. Beaverhausen

I'm Sick. Fuck!

2006-11-13T13:08:00.000-05:00

I don’t do sick well. Being a true Leo, I hate getting sick and being out of ‘commission’ (hehe).

I hardly ever get sick and rarely go to the Doctor’s when I am. I grew up with parent’s who believed you could cure anything with vitamin E, honey and apple cider vinegar.

Like the time I got a rusty dart (and didn’t have a current tetanus shot) stuck in the top of my foot and my vein was gushing blood and I said “I really think I need to go to Hospital.” My parents replied “Oh, its nothing. Here, just put some vitamin E on it and it will be fine.”

They didn’t believe in Psychology either, they believed your ‘problems’ were all in your head…it’s amazing I turned out so well adjusted, really.

So I have been feeling really shitty all weekend and I was hoping it would go away, but it hasn’t. I finally coughed up a lung last night and decided, against my better judgement, to go to the Doctor.

“Ms. Beaverhausen, I believe you have walking pneumonia,” said the Doctor.

“As opposed to running pneumonia?” I asked.

“It’s not funny, its quite serious, it could turn into full-fledged pneumonia and you could end up in the Hospital,” he said.

“Oh, shit. That’s not good,” I said “Mind if I smoke? I’m just really stressed out right now.”

“There is no smoking in the Doctor’s office, Ms. Beaverhausen. And, considering your lungs are inflamed, I would highly suggest you quit.”

“Sure, I understand.” I began “Is it still ok to smoke weed?”

He didn’t seem amused. “Now, Ms. Beaverhausen, are you currently on any drugs?”

“Just the weed,” I replied.

“No, I mean medications,” he said very annoyed.

“Oh…yeah. Let’s see, Xanax, Prozac, Zoloft, a couple other mood elevators…”

“Let’s move on. Anyway, are you allergic to any drugs?”

I thought for a minute. “Well, I don’t think so. Although there was this one time, on ‘shrooms, I got really sick and puked for like four hours…”

“Again, Ms. Beaverhausen, prescribed medications.” He snapped.

“Oh. No. But, I really don’t like swallowing pills, gag reflex, you know? I’d prefer liquid. Oh, and flavored if you can. Bubblegum. Or strawberry.” I said.

“That’s not possible; you will have to settle for pills. Here you go,” he says and hands me a bunch of prescriptions. "Also, I would like for you to stay in the next few days and rest. Do you need a Doctor's note for class?"

"Yes, but actually, I have a test Friday so if you could date it for then..."

"I don't think so." He said

"Ok, well how about you just leave the dates blank and that way I can make copies and use them when I don't 'feel well,' know what I mean?" I said, winking at him.

"No, Ms. Beaverhasuen."

“Ok. Oh one more question, Doctor; can I still use heroin while on this medication?”

He shook his head and began to leave the exam room, “Goodbye, Ms. Beaverhausen.”

“Doctor?...Doctor?...,” I called out after him.

Well. That was very rude and unprofessional, I thought to myself.

So, now I am sitting here with my prescription Leavaquin, an inhaler, and a bag of Sweet Lady H and I don’t know what to do because my Doctor is a jerk.

I wonder if I can sue him for malpractice…

Oh, Balls!

2006-11-08T19:08:00.000-05:00

Can I just say, I love balls.

I really do. I know its a little different, I mean, its not everyday you find a woman proclaiming her love for balls. Usually we love a nice dick, chest, ass, forearms, etc. I love all that too, but I really love balls.

See, what happened was, I was reading Ninj's tea-bag post and kept finding myself going back to check out the picture of the guy's balls. He has a nice little sack there.

It got me thinking about how much I love balls.

My perfect night in would be Ninj's ballsack and I lying in bed watching a Tim Burton movie and eating popcorn. Oh yeah--Ninj, you can come too, if you want, although I only really need your balls. (PS--I hope you have nice balls, otherwise...)

Anyway. I love balls. An I really love to play with them.
Men's balls have always reminded me of those stress balls. When you squeeze a guy's balls (much more gentle then you would squeeze a stress ball, of course) they do something similar to a stress ball. They take on different shapes and you can feel the testis inside moving around. I love that. Plus, playing with a scrotum gives me the same relaxing feeling a stress ball does. I love balls.

They also remind me of Chinese exercise balls. Although, you can't move the scrotum around quite as easily as the Chinese exercise balls, you can simulate. I love to hold a pair of balls in the palm of my hand and sort of juggle them back and forth. Juggling balls really clears my head. I love balls.

Another thing I liken to balls, is Newton's Cradle. This seems to work best with a pair of low hangers. I like to watch them bounce off of one another.

I love balls.

If I had a set of balls, I would play with them all the frigging time! (Fuck off Ninj, I said IF I HAD A SET...)

Redneck Wedding.

2006-11-06T10:59:00.000-05:00

I attended a redneck wedding this past weekend. I guess the groom sells weed to my friend so he got an invite and asked me if I wanted to go. I said ok. I mean, it’s a redneck wedding, wouldn’t you go?!

First of all these two people should not be getting married and procreating. The bride is 6 months pregnant and I heard she actually shot her husband in the foot once during a quarrel.

The ceremony was held outside in their yard. It was fucking freezing. I overdressed. I wore a simple, clean black dress. But, when the wedding party is dressed in Wranglers and Lycra, a black dress is overdoing it.

I also didn’t fit in because I am not a redneck and I have all of my teeth. Although, I do eat my ice cream with a fork…but, I don’t know if that’s redneck or just good sense. I mean, ice cream just tastes so much better eaten off a fork, I don’t know why, but it does. Trust me.

Anyway, the newlyweds danced their first dance as Mr. and Mrs. Bubba Mann, III to the theme song from the movie “Deliverance.”

By that time the pig was roasted and we ate. Normally when I am at a public event I eat very little, you know to impress guys, but since there was no one at this wedding I wanted to fuck, I went back for seconds and thirds.

All they had to drink was Coors Light. I asked somebody’s cousin’s-mother's-uncle what I was supposed to do with my empties, and they told me “Eh, jus’ toss ‘em on in thare.”

A couple of beers later, I really had to pee. But the toilet was occupied.

I decide to hold it.

Suddenly, everyone was drunk. People were jumping into the swimming pool.

The Bride was doing Keg-stands.

And drunken Cousin Earl was showing me his newest tattoo.

I was just praying they’d hurry up and cut the Ring-Ding and Twinkie cake so I could get the hell out of there.

At the end of it the new couple got into their “limo” and we saw them off.

They were heading off for their Honeymoon Cruise.

Meow.

2006-11-04T22:49:00.000-05:00

Everytime you masturbate God kills a kitten. Think about it.

Post Party Pictures!

2006-10-31T11:51:00.000-05:00

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!!!!

2006-10-31T11:19:00.000-05:00

You're welcome.

Monty Python's "Hell's Grannies"

2006-10-30T18:33:00.000-05:00

Where's Wally?

2006-10-30T11:04:00.000-05:00

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 Afternoon Amusements…

2006-10-28T18:02:00.001-04:00

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 worth 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 girl 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 storm 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.

“Right, 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.

2006-10-28T13:53:00.000-04:00

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

2006-10-27T21:29:00.000-04:00

I'm Just Saying...

2006-10-27T16:07:00.000-04:00

"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!

I’m So Smart, I’m Dumb...

2006-10-26T18:58:00.000-04:00

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.)

His & Her.

2006-10-25T20:02:00.000-04:00

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".

Now, I Am Thoroughly Pissed Off…

2006-10-24T16:09:00.000-04:00

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.

Are You Kidding Me?

2006-10-23T18:41:00.000-04:00

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.
http://www.RatMail.com
******************************************

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.

The Bachelorette: Halloween Edition

2006-10-22T20:10:00.000-04:00

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.

The Bachelor: Halloween Edition

2006-10-20T12:38:00.003-04:00

Ok Ladies, the Holiday is fast approaching and some of you may be finding yourselves dateless for the evening. If so, don’t fret! I have found a few very special men still available for Halloween night, but if you are interested, act fast because these gems won’t be on the market for long…

Dr. Hannibal “The Cannibal” Lecter. Nicknames on a man are so sexy! Dr. Lecter is a real catch. He’s smart, sexy, a talented artist, scholar of classical music, avid book reader and wine connoisseur. His favorite meal is liver with fava beans and a Chianti wine. He loves to nibble on his partners tongue while kissing. And, lets not forget, he’s a Doctor—every girls fantasy!

Leatherface. At 6 foot 4 this is one tall drink of water. Leatherface is the ideal man for the 21st Century. He’s great with a chainsaw, but he is also very domestic. He loves to cook, especially barbeque and chili. Leatherface has a top of the line, restaurant quality kitchen in his home, complete with meat hooks and chest freezers. Plus, he has a bunch of realistic masks, so if you aren’t sure what to dress up as for Halloween, I’m sure he’d let you borrow one for the night.

Freddy Krueger. Freddy is a divorcee who isn’t fond of children. But don’t let that discourage you ladies, he has many great qualities. A man with style, Freddy can often be seen wandering around town in his Fedora hat. And just look at those long, lean fingers—imagine what that hand can do for you in the bedroom!

Reverend Henry Kane. Rev. Kane, though an older gentleman, is still very sexy and youthful. There is nothing hotter than a man dressed in black—very sophisticated. Rev. Kane likes to serenade his ladies with Holy verse, such as “God is in his Holy Temple…” Who doesn’t love a man of God?

Jason Voorhees. If you love hockey, this is the man for you! Jason loves the sport so much it’s hard to get him to take off his hockey mask. Jason is a man of few words, but has much to offer. His favorite pastime is camping and just hanging out in the woods. Jason isn’t the greatest swimmer, but maybe you could teach him!

Michael Myers. Michael can often be seen wearing his favorite blue coveralls and black army boots. He is a shy man who struggled with self esteem issues while growing up. But don’t worry, he has since sought treatment at a psychological facility. Family is important to Michael, he lost touch with his sister for many years, but has since been reunited with her.

Charles Lee Ray. Charles, better known to his friends as “Chucky”, is simply a doll! (yeah I know, that was bad, but I couldn’t help myself.) Chucky loves spending time with the children. A kid at heart, he can often be seen hanging out at toy stores.

Norman Bates. Norman is a hotel owner who has some mother issues and is looking for a nice girl to help him work through those. He enjoys dressing up and taking on different personalities. He also practices taxidermy.

Jack Torrance. Although Jack has had some alcohol problems in the past, he has since sworn off the substance. He is looking to start his life over and is pursuing a writing career. Jack is looking for a special lady to accompany him on a mini break to the Overlook Hotel in Colorado, for rest and relaxation.

C.H.U.D. If you are looking to spend the night in the big city, then this is the man for you! A date with C.H.U.D. means experiencing the city as only he knows it.

James Gumb. James, known to many as “Buffalo Bill”, is incredibly in touch with his feminine side. James has a toy poodle named Precious, who he loves dearly. Ladies, are you carrying around a few extra pounds? If so, you are a perfect match for James. He prefers his women to be a size 10-14. If you are into kinky love making, this is the man for you—James loves to dress up in his ladies lingerie and heels. James loves the touch of female skin and insists that his women use lotion regularly to keep that youthful glow. Just remember to put the fucking lotion in the basket when you are done.

Eggs...

2006-10-18T18:47:00.000-04:00

I have been going to the same Korean Market for a while now. It’s close and I like it. The old lady who works there is always trying to pawn off some “two for one” deal on me, which normally is fine. Normally, but not today. Today she had a deal on eggs. This would be fine, except I’m deathly afraid of eggs.

I don’t like them. I can’t eat them. The only kinds of eggs I will eat are Cadbury eggs. Knowing there could be a chicken fetus in my omelet grosses me out.
Plus, I think baby chicks are one of the cutest things ever and they feel so soft pressed against your cheek.

Anyway, so the Korean lady says (at the same time, of course, taking my picture):

“You want carton of eggs? Very good price!”

“No, thank you.” I reply.

“2 for 1. C’mon! You like a eggs?”

“No. I don’t eat eggs.”

“Oh, ev’ary one like a eggs!”

“I don’t eat them. Thanks anyway.”

“Very good deal! You take a eggs!”

“I DON’T WANT ANY FUCKING EGGS LADY, NOW BACK THE FUCK OFF AND JUST RING UP MY GOD DAMN FOUR BOTTLES OF NYQUIL SO I CAN GO HOME AND COOK UP MY METH IN PEACE!”

...I think I may need to find another market to shop in now.

An Oldie But a Goodie...

2006-10-17T18:07:00.000-04:00

A Gentleman Never Discloses Who Sucked Him Off

By Charles Dubno
May 18, 2005 | Issue 41•20

I must say, the quality of discourse in this country has taken a sharp plunge of late, not only among the ruffians and ne'er-do-wells from whom one expects coarse speech, but among gentlemen of letters and esteem. I have, with my own ears, several times in the past week, heard the elder sons of prominent families introduce into mixed company subjects formerly reserved for private discussion among gentlemen. It pains me even to raise this point, but following a string of recent events, there is no question that the adage bears repeating: A gentleman ought never to disclose who sucked him off.

This needn't mean a gentleman must limit the discussion of his exploits to his journal. If a gentleman has met a young lady and taken her to his digs, it is his right and privilege to tell his friends and coworkers about the encounter. However, it is the mark of a true gentleman to omit his lady friend's name from the discussion of her pussy's tightness.

Why, I had assumed that this custom and others like it were universal and well understood, but as long as I am spelling out the Rules of the Gentleman, allow me to introduce several other equally important but oft-neglected guidelines.

Should a gentleman find himself alone with a lady, he should not simply undo his pants and come in her hole. A gentleman knows that it is good manners to coax his lady friend's heels as far above her head as they will go, to "split the reed," and perhaps to turn his lady over and give it to her "doggy style." A gentleman knows that a true lady enjoys a moderate amount of hair-pulling and ass-grabbing, taking these attentions as marks of affection and virility. However, a gentleman knows where to draw the line. He never lodges his lady friend's head between the couch cushions.

A gentleman occasionally will have more than one guest at his home. Should he see that jealousy is breeding between the two ladies whom he is hosting, a gentleman does not say, "Whoa, ladies, there's enough of me to go around!" The gentleman, valuing decorum and discretion above all else in his paramours, gently guides his guests' heads from his penis and informs them that if they do not act like ladies, he will have to ask them both to leave.

When up to his nuts in a lady's guts, a gentleman knows that it is quite impolite to smoke, talk politics, or take phone calls. Should his cell phone ring, the gentleman says, "Excuse me, I need to take this." He withdraws his penis from his lady friend and keeps his phone conversation brief. When he has completed his call, a gentleman gently reinserts his dick into his lady.

Of course, a gentleman who is not a smoker keeps an ashtray on his balcony for his lady friends who wish to smoke.

It should go without saying that, once he has arranged for a paid lady of the night to meet him at his home, a gentleman does not jerk off several times while awaiting her arrival, in order to "get his money's worth."

A gentleman knows that accidents happen. While it is an unfortunate and boorish behavior that should be kept to a minimum, a gentleman always apologizes to a lady after he mistakenly shoots his load inside of her.

A gentleman never comes in a lady's eyes.

While he knows that a lady gets pleasure out of pleasuring him, and he will occasionally increase the intensity of that pleasure by gentle force, a gentleman will never choke a woman on his cock.

If a gentleman wishes to attend to a lady's pleasure through oral manipulation, no matter what the state of affairs below, he always politely completes his task. A gentleman ought never to fan his hand in the air, grimace and make a show of removing a pubic hair from his teeth, or compare his lady friend's vulva to two strips of partially grilled fajita meat.

A gentleman knows that it is considered good manners to have an unopened toothbrush on hand for his lady friend, in the event that she should like to freshen up after eating his ass.

Breeding needn't amount to priggishness. On the contrary, a gentleman knows that good old-fashioned manners will likely increase his social engagements, once word gets out that he is not one to splooge and tell. But I beg the reader, for the sake of tradition and all that is decent, to remember that a true gentleman does not ever, under any circumstances, go ass to mouth.

Oh Yes, It Gets Better...

2006-10-16T10:48:00.000-04:00

Fuck. I think I have had it with Law School and this fucking city and the people in it. Last week was a bitch.

So, my classes are like a grand a credit. 40k a year. My parents do not help me. I rely on loans and scholarships and work.

Myself and 3 other of my classmates had to work on a joint project. This girl in our group offered for us all to get together at her place to work.

Her parents are Muffy and Biff (ok, that’s a lie, I don’t know what her parents names are) and they own a few very popular restaurants in the city.

Anyway, I arrived at her apartment, overlooking Central Park. It has a doorman, an elevator guy and is on like the 30th floor.

I walk in and her “apartment” is bigger than my childhood home. No shit, I could fit my entire house in her foyer/living room.

She has a sunken living room that I walk into. Lying on the floor is a bear skin rug. I ask her “What’s up with that?” She tells me that she really wanted one when she was in New Zealand for the weekend, so she bought it. I’m like “New Zealand? For the weekend?” A fucking plane flight to New Zealand is like $1000+ and this bitch went for the weekend?! She tells me “Well, I just wanted to get out of the city for a few days so I went skiing in New Zealand.” My weekend ski trips involve a crammed clown car with my friends, one being a gay man who works with Maine State Music Theatre singing Broadway show tunes the entire way to Killington, Vermont (true story). I tell her this and she looks at me as if she has no idea what the hell or where Killington, Vermont is.

I go up to her floor-to-ceiling window and I’m like a little fucking kid looking into a toy store. I press my face to the glass and do the “jazz hands” thing on the window and am like “Wow….”

I find out later that her apartment is $10,000 a month.

She asks me where I live and I tell her I have a loft with roommates. But, I may go into a studio soon, to which she replies “Ew, why?” Or I may move in with my parents for a while to cut costs. My parents live about an hour form the city, which means I’d have to commute. “Why would you want to commute?” I don’t want to, asshole, but I can’t afford a 10k apartment like yourself. She has three bedrooms and she is the only one that lives there. Give me a goddamn bedroom!

The other kids are rich too, but she is really rich. Of course, they aren’t too intelligent and I’m sure money was involved in getting them into this school. As we are doing the project they kept looking to me for the answers. At like 1 am we decided we needed a nap. We thought, no problem, we can type this shit up fast. Well, we over-slept and woke up at 5 am. Having to be in class at 8.

We type it all up and by now I’m exhausted. We get to class and I am elected the speaker (of course, fuckers). So I’m reading this shit and all of a sudden I look down at my papers, put my hands on the table, hang my head and close my eyes. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep for about 30 seconds. I had to. I had to compose myself. I woke up and pulled the rest of the presentation off. By that time it was “question and answer time,” I said my partners will be fielding the questions. I couldn’t go on. They fucked it up of course.

But, I think we pulled it off. I’ll find out Thursday. If we didn’t someone owes me a bear skin rug.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PINKY NIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-10-12T18:08:00.000-04:00

Pinks, I wanted to get you something special for your Birthday, but I'm not sure exactly what you like. So, I thought, best if she chooses. Go ahead, pick one out, its on me...

Item 1- Rocco

Item 2- Jamal

Item 3- Dong Fu Wong

Item 4- Robert (he's REAL excited to meet you.)

New Addition to the Beaverhausen House!

2006-10-11T16:16:00.000-04:00

With all the children being adopted recently, I thought I should do my part.

So, I went to my local “adoption agency” to pick one out.

I was very impressed with their selection. They had pure breeds, mixed breeds and they all come complete with their shots, papers and even chew toys!

Boy was it hard to choose just one. Looking at their sad eyes and wagging tongues thru those cages, I wanted to take them all home.

I was going to go with an African breed, but, I hate being trendy. Like a few years ago, I really wanted a Jack Russell puppy, but it seemed like everyone had one at that time, thanks to that Frasier show. Never one to follow the crowd, I decided against an African. Plus, I heard their life span is shorter than other breeds.

Then I thought maybe an Asian mix. I fell in love with this little guy, Unagi Kim Dim Sum, and I thought “this is the one!” Then he took my picture. I forgot about Asians and their damn cameras. And with that, the love affair was over…
They didn't have any Mexicans. They were all sold out. The lady told me they usually sell out in the spring and summer with the demand for farm work and house framing. She said if I wanted to wait they would have more in stock by late fall. But, I was too impatient.

So, I decided on a Slovak pure breed. I chose a female, easier to dominate, you know? Plus, I bet she can cook a mean meal of pierogies and borscht!

They deliver her next Tuesday. I can hardly wait! Mmmm...pierogies.

My only concern is my cats. Although they are anxiously awaiting the arrival of their new sister, living in New York, space is limited. I have two cats, Mr. Pringles and Shasta McNasty. I really hope this new addition gets along with them! Sharing such tight quarters is going to be a real adjustment for them all. And, when it comes to her food dish, Shasta is very greedy. I’ll probably have to put out a separate bowl for the new Slovak.

(NOTE: All jokes aside, I feel bad about this. This post was meant to show how fucking stupid celebrities are, treating orphans like accessories. I feel like I sold my soul to the devil a little bit, I'm waiting to hear from Lucifer right now. Having a concious sucks. Fortunetly, Cock-Ninja is helping me to get rid of that pesky thing with intense "therapy" sessions...and by therapy I mean ass-fucking.)

There Are No Stupid Answers, Only Stupid Questions.

2006-10-10T19:05:00.000-04:00

“Has the train come yet?”

“Why yes. Yes it has. That’s why I’m NOT ON IT!!!!"

I swear on all that is holy and sacred in this world, if one more person asks me this I am going to go reach into my bag, pull out my mace, spray them in the eyes, grab them by the ears, knee them in the face, push them to the ground and then stomp on them with my heels over and over again.

These are the same people that say: “Call me,” while simultaneously making that stupid impression of a phone with their thumb and pinky. I hate people that.

And I hate to say it, being a girl, but 99% of the time it is women who ask me this. I figured out why: It’s because women have this incessant primal need to just constantly yap. Like if they were just to remain silent while standing among strangers waiting for the train their heads would explode. Christ, no wonder guys don’t fucking listen, women never shut the fuck up. Tuning us out is the only defense mechanism those poor bastards have. If men actually listended to us, they would probably bash our heads against the wall until we were dead and then dump our bodies upstate in the woods…I’m just saying. Something to think about.

The Best Song EVER.

2006-10-09T18:04:00.000-04:00

(Note: I would have posted earlier today, but I was sick. Last night I ate an entire pan of brownies on a drunken dare. So, today I spent the day puking. Whatever, I made 87 bucks.)

Went to Guadalajara with Juan Be Back Monday...

2006-10-05T15:11:00.000-04:00

I need to get out of the city for a few days, so this morning Juan con Pollo de Jesus and I packed up his donkey for a little trip to Me-he-co.

Juan is a nice man. He is a roofer. He worked on the roof of my building. He is also a dishwasher, carwasher, landscaper and carpenter.

Anyway, I don't understand much of what he says, but I do understand "cerveza!"

He keeps saying things like "Te voy a hacer la sopa!" and "Chupa mis grandes huevos!" I just nod politely, smile and say "Great! Can't wait!"

We are gonna have a swell time! See you all Monday!

Homo vs. Cockroach.

2006-10-03T20:30:00.000-04:00

I have been saying it for years: Gay men should not be allowed to be weathermen!

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

2006-10-02T13:37:00.001-04:00

Thought you might like to meet my neighbors…

Apt. 3C:

This is DeShaun Jackson. I’m pretty sure he is a crack dealer, for several reasons:
1. Because he is black.
2. …well…there isn’t really a number two…

You can usually find DeShaun hanging out on the stoop out front smoking Newport’s and asking passers-bye, “What’cha need?”

This is Kenisha Washington. She’s DeShaun’s baby-momma. Well one of them, anyway. She drops off their son, Tyrell, in the mornings before heading off to work at the Au Bon Pain located in Port Authority.

DeShaun doesn’t work, per se, so he has plenty of time to watch little Tyrell. He’s a pretty good dad. He takes him to the park around the corner and plays basketball with him, only occasionally stopping to ask the white-preppy NYU students who pass by, “What’cha need?”

Apt. 4F:

Mrs. Romano. Her husband, Giovanni, just passed away. He was a nice man, always had spaghetti sauce drippings on his white undershirt. She’s always telling me what a Saint of a man her Giovanni was. Which I find a bit confusing, since when he was alive they argued all the time. She even threw a pot of hot meatball sauce on him once during a fight.

Apt. 1A:

This is my landlord. Al-Heratt Bali Abbas-Sashimi, something or other. He doesn’t speak much English and his apartment smells like curry, but he always helps me fix my leaky faucet.

Apt. 2D:

Mr. and Mrs. Spiegelawitzkyavitz. (and no, Ninj, I am not related. Fucker.) They are nice enough, always inviting me over for Lox and Bagels. I’ve gone a few times, but I had to stop visiting with them because for some reason, every time I do, I find that at the end of the visit I’m always missing a few dollars and some change from my wallet. Probably just some strange coincidence.

Apt. 6B:

Harold. That’s all I know him by. He keeps mostly to himself. He’s single, never been married and no girlfriend. He’s always going shopping for balloons, candy corn, streamers, confetti and stuff like that. I can’t figure out why. I never hear any parties going on in his place. And if he is having them, he sure isn’t inviting me. Which I think is rude and un-neighborly. I think he runs a ‘Daddy Daycare’ out of his place though, because I always see him bringing children home. And for some reason, he is always losing his dog.

I Want to Have Filthy Animal Sex with Dr. Troy.

2006-10-01T20:28:00.000-04:00

I don’t watch much of the idiot box. The only show I make a point to watch is Nip/Tuck. I have been following this show since its inception and it is, hands down, the best show on television today.

If there was ever another reason needed for anyone, anywhere to hate Americans, this show is it. It is everything that is wrong with American culture and society wrapped up neatly in a nice one hour bow each week. It is over the top, stupid, superficial, morally reprehensible, sexually gratuitous, godless, narcissistic, offensive, ridiculous, gory, self indulgent and vulgar. And I love every minute of it!

Plus, I am thoroughly convinced that Cock Ninja is the head writer.

Nip/Tuck is about two high profile plastic surgeons who run their own practice, McNamara/Troy, in Miami. Christian Troy (L) and Sean McNamara (R) met while studying to be surgeons and became friends. Their practice caters to all kinds of bizarre and superficial clients. So far, they have performed surgeries for convicts, 900 lb. women, conjoined twins, transsexuals, strippers, burn victims and midgets, to name a few.

Sean McNamara. Sean is married to Julia who was a classmate from school. They seperated when Sean found out that their son, Matt, was actually Christian's. They recently reunited and had another child together, a son Conor, who was born with lobster claw syndrome. Last year a serial killer, known as The Carver, was attacking women and slicing their faces. The survivors went McNamara/Troy to have their faces restored. When The Carver learned of this he attacked Sean in his home, slicing his face.

Christian Troy. Christian is a womanizing, narcissistic, deviant, sex addicted man (who I masturbate to regularly). He was a product of rape and was given up for adoption as a baby. Christian slept with Sean’s fiancée, Julia, just before their wedding which resulted in her being pregnant with his child. Christian was also a victim of The Carver, but he not only had his face sliced, but was also drugged and ass raped. Kimber Henry is his on-again/off-again girlfriend who he finally proposes marriage to, only to be left at the alter. This season Christian starts to question his sexuality and begins humping men.

Julia McNamara. Julia is Sean’s wife. They met in school where she was also studying to be a surgeon but gave it up to marry Sean and have a family. Right before she was to marry Sean, she and Christian slept together. Nine months later she gave birth to her and Sean’s first child, Matt—who later turns out to be Christian’s. She runs a recovery spa named De La Mer. For a while at the spa she sold an anti-aging cream made from semen.

Matt McNamara. After learning that Christian is his father and that his
whole life has been a lie, Matt becomes extremely troubled. He has since run over a classmate, beat up a gay who hit on him and also beat up the racist father of an ex-girlfriend. He had an affair with his parent’s life coach, Ava Moore, who turned out to be a post-op transexual. This season he is screwing Chrisitan’s (his biological father) ex-fiancee, Kimber.

Conor McNamara a.k.a. Lobster Boy. This isn’t actually Conor, but I couldn’t find a picture of him. Conor is Julia and Sean’s new baby boy. He was born with lobster claws and last week Julia was freaking out at the idea of having to breast feed him, because the thought of his creepy little hands touching her tits grossed her out. She now wishes she had an abortion.

Liz Cruz. Liz is the anesthesiologist for McNamara/Troy. She is a dyke. Last week she was drugged and had one of her kidneys stolen after going home with a beautiful woman she met at a bar.

Kimber Henry. Kimber is Christian's ex-fiancee, who is a former porno actress and cocaine addict. She later produces porno films. She is obsessed with looking good and has had a ton of surgeries. Christian once attempted to “trade” Kimber to another man for his sport’s car. Christian thought she stood him up at the alter, but really she was kidnapped by The Carver. The Carver held her hostage and sliced up her face. He also cut her breast implants out and mailed them to Christian. Kimber is now a Scientologist and is screwing Matt, Christian’s biological son.

Gina Russo. Gina is an HIV infested bitch who is always looking to make a fast buck. She claimed that she had Christian’s child and demanded he support her. He later found out she was lying, since the baby was half black. Gina never calls Christian by his name, instead she refers to him as “asshole.” She weaseled her way into being co-owner of De La Mer with Julia. Gina was also attacked by The Carver.

Escobar Gallardo. Escobar is a killer and a drug dealer from South America. He blackmailed Christian and Sean into giving him a new face so that he could avoid jail and start a new life. They gave him the face of another wanted killer so that he was arrested as that criminal at the airport upon trying to flee the country. Sean sometimes has dreams about Escobar instructing him to do evil deeds.

Ava Moore. Ava is Julia and Sean’s life coach, who seduces their son Matt. Ava is a transexual who was married to a surgeon who performed the operations for her, but who she divoced before the final surgery was complete. Chrisitan agrees to make her a woman if she ends her relationship with Matt.

Adrian Moore. Adrian is Ava’s step-son, with whom she has sex with. He also tries to seduce Matt by asking him to masturabate in front of him. Adrian is a sociopath and he eventually tries to kill Ava. He ends up killing himself instead in their house in front of Ava. She then flees the country, leaving his dead body to rot and later be discovereed by Matt.

Quentin Costa/ The Carver. Quentin was revealed last season as The Carver. Quentin was called into McNamara/Troy to help with surgeries after Sean was attacked by The Carver (him). Although he had a brief affair with Julia during her seperation from Sean (which they never consumated) and flaunts his bisexuality, it is revealed that he was actually born with no genitals. This is the result of his parent’s being siblings. Quentin even sliced his own face up in one episode so that he wouldn’t appear to be a suspect. He is eventaully “killed” by Detective McGraw, who turns out to be he sister.

Kit McGraw. Kit is the Detective brought in to hunt down The Carver. Kit tried to pin the crimes on Christian, but while he was being held for questioning, she fell victim to The Carver herself, thus proving Christian’s innocence. Kit and Quentin/The Carver are a brother and sister act and it was planned all along that Kit would pretend to kill him before they fled to Europe to continue their crime spree. The pair also have an incestuous relationship. Kit knew all along Christian wasn’t The Carver but she arrested him because she was pissed off that he and Kimber wouldn’t have a three-way with her.

Mr. Sawyer. Mr. Sawyer is a midget that Julia wants to hire as the baby nurse. I'm not sure if he is really relevant yet, but I just wanted to include a picture of a midget to go with lobster boy.

Shari Noble. That's right, little Laura Ingalls from Little House on the Prarie makes a guest appearence. She plays Shari Noble a woman who comes in for surgery after her dog bites her nipple off. Why would her dog bite her nipple off, you ask? Well, Shari's husband is in the Army and stationed in Iraq. She gets lonely. She has needs and a jar of peanut butter...you get the idea. When her husband finds out what she's been doing with the dog, he kills it and brings it to McNamara/Troy and dumps it on her bed there.

There you have it. If you have not seen the show, I recommend you start wathcing it immediately. If nothing above interests you, you are clearly boring and a commie and I don’t want talk to you.

Kids Suck.

2006-09-28T23:33:00.000-04:00

I don’t like children much. I never have. I didn’t even like myself much growing up, which is why I spent my childhood drunk. Children are a pet peeve of mine. Let's explore, shall we...

Let’s start with two common misconceptions about babies:

Common Misconception # 1: “All babies are beautiful." No, they are not. Most of them look like miniature versions of Uncle Fester or Pugs.

...I see no difference. Do you?

Common Misconception # 2: "All babies are unique." Again, no. I’ve got to be honest with you, they all look the same to me, like cattle or Asians. I don’t know how people can tell which is theirs. If I had a baby and lost it, and had to go claim it at the lost and found baby place, I don’t think I’d be able to ID it.

...See?

The other thing about babies and very young toddlers is you don’t know what they are thinking. And that is scary. They could be plotting your death and you wouldn't even know it.

Sound funny? It's not, and I have a solid example to prove it!

I’ve been deathly afraid of toddlers ever since I saw Stephen King’s Pet Sematary. You know the little kid in it, Gage? Remember, he gets hit by the Mac Truck while flying his kite and dies and then the father decides to bury him in the Pet Sematary to bring him back to life. Except, you aren’t supposed to bury people there and he comes back evil. And then he slices Herman Munster’s ankle with a blade (ugh that part always grosses me out). Then he tells his father that he wants to “play” and tries to kill him. I swear to God, every time a kid says to me “I want to play with YOU,” I run in the opposite direction.

Just look at that face, pure evil. The kid I mean, not Herman Munster.

Another problem with kids is that they are terrible spellers and even worse artists. I'm serious. Van Gogh and Monet must be rolling over in their graves. Just look at some of this crap:

Nathan, 9. What the hell is this supposed to be? Is it a Hippo? Is it an Elephant? Whatever it is, it sucks!

Kathy, 6. Kathy, where the fuck have you been walking? And more imporantly, what kind of hallucinogenics are you on that make the leaves in your world bigger than the people?

Rachael, 7.

Last time I checked unicorns weren't real, dipshit.

Agatha, 7.

Agatha drew this for Unicef. Aren't rainbows and Unicef meant to represent the diversity in people, and loving and caring for all humankind? All I see are white faces in Agatha's drawing. Clearly Agatha is a racist bitch.

...That is supposed to be art? So, if I wipe my ass with a piece of construction paper and draw a smiling sun above it, will you hang it on your refrigerator? See my point?

You may be thinking, "but children are so innocent and pure." Like hell they are. Kids are mean. Ever see a kid when it doesn't get its way? The fucker turns into mini Mike Tyson, punching, kicking, biting. If this were a boxing match the bastard would have been disqualified in the first round.

The thing that pisses me off the most is kids in public places. I can't stand the people that bring their screaming monkey into the movie theater. But the worst is restaurants. Chuck E. Cheese was created for a reason, to keep your children away from me. I shouldn't have to suffer for your mistake. I can't have a cigarette in a restaurant but your kid can be there loudly banging his plate with his fork? That's communism.

Lastly, children should not be allowed on planes. Period. It's my understanding that terrorists are no longer allowed on planes, correct? Well, children are terrorists as far as I'm concerned. I am so looking forward to the day when airlines require children to be stowed in checked baggage or placed in cages along with the family Lab.

(NOTE: The only kids that are the exception to the above are Ferret jr., and other fellow bloggers who are my friends and who may have kids, as I am sure they beat them with a cane regulary so they stay in line.)

Public Urination is NOT a Victimless Crime...Unless You Have a Nice Penis.

2006-09-28T13:09:00.000-04:00

I love New York. I really do. It's the city that never sleeps. It's one of the only places in the world you can get anything at anytime.

Why for example, just last night at 1 am, I couldn't sleep so I went out, got ice cream, did a load of laundry, got finger fucked by a tranny for a $20 and rented a movie from Blockbuster. Bet you can't do all that at 1 am in De Moines, Iowa now can you?

In a city of 8 million plus people, its a hectic place. Sometimes, you just have to tune shit out. Shit like: obnoxious cell phone users, annoying drunk Queens girls with bad 80s hair on the N train, the guy trying to sell you crack on the corner and even the bum who is jerking off on the platform next to you as you wait for the 6. During these times I find that an iPod or a book are good distractions. My point is, most things are easily ignored.

HOWEVER, there are two things that I will not tolerate where I have to live:

1. Amateur Asian photographers (See Ninja's blog for details).
2. Public Urination.

That's right. What the fuck is wrong with people? Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about the discreet public piss--against the side of a car, behind some trees. I've popped a squat many times in desperate situations.

No, I mean pissing right in plain sight. Cock out in full view. And yes, it is usually men. I guess because its easier for them then for us ladies. Plus, guys have that whole thing about liking to piss in places other than the bathroom.

I've kept a running list in my head of how many guys I have seen pissing in public, and its well into the double digits.

The disturbing thing is, its not the bums that are doing this. They at least have the courtesy and class to carry around their empty Thunderbird wine bottle to piss in. It's regular guys. Some drunk Frat boy outside of a bar, a construction worker in Mid-Town and even a Dad with his son in the park.

I've watched as these guys have gone from smoking a cigarette with their buddies, having a coffee break and watching their kid play on the jungle gym to just whipping their dicks out and pissing wherever it may land.

The last straw was this past August. I was walking home from Vesuvio's bakery. I had just turned the corner to my street when I stepped in a puddle. It was summer. It wasn't raining. I was wearing sandals...You get the picture.

I looked to my right, and there he was. Some 40s mullet wearing fucker, zipping up. It was bad enough that I had just stepped, pretty much bare foot, into his piss puddle but to top it off, I caught a glimpse of his cock. It was not attractive.

So, I would like to formally ask all the men who piss in front of me on the street to knock it off. Please, go someplace a little more private.

Unless you have a nice cock. In which case, please, continue.*

(* NOTE: If you are not sure which category you fall under, attractive/unattractive cock, please post a picture and I will be glad to help you out.)