Top Two Signs the World is Coming to an End

1. Celine Dion and Josh Groban have a live duet out.
2. People can actually be heard clapping during the song.

I Am Going to Fuck Up Your State

I was in Amsterdam, biding some unclaimed time in a coffee shop with some Australian friends.  I was sipping some freshly squeezed orange juice in between my turn with the joint.  I was relaxed. 

Suddenly this good ol’ boy with a John Deere mesh hat came up to us and started speaking.  “Yeah, I thought y’all looked American,” he said with his good ol’ boy country accent.  He started telling us about his journey from his native state of Georgia to his new home of Montana…Big Sky Country…Heaven on Earth…and he was right proud of his Montana and its space and its big sky.  And so I said, “Yes, I think I will go to Montana one day.”  And he said, “Well, if you do, don’t bring any of your friends and fuck up my state.” 

I put down my glass and turned to him slowly.  I said, “Yes, well.  You ruined my plan.  I was going to collect busloads and trainloads of every person and their fucking mother and then herd them all out to the spacious heartland of Montana and open up the biggest, the tackiest, the most commercialized monstrosity of a fucking neon-lit place you ever did see, and then I am going to build a huge, red blinking arrow pointing to it with a sign that says FUCK YOU AND THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON.”

He really ruined my plan.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

Hi Santa. I hope this letter finds you well. I know that the last year for you has been a little rough. Sorry about the whole global warming thing that caused that polar ice cap to melt and break off with most of your elves stranded on it, as you sadly watched them float away to the unforgiving sea. Bummer. But it’s good to hear that you quickly bounced back by outsourcing to India.

I know I haven’t sent you a Christmas list in a long time, but seeing that I haven’t gotten shit for Christmas in the past twenty years, I thought I would try again. In all honesty, I have been relying on praying for gifts but the power of prayer doesn’t get you much anymore, unless you want a blowjob in the men’s bathroom of an airport. (Also, I don’t know if it was you or God, but thanks for that whole Ted Haggard scandal – he might be against same-sex marriage but he’s not opposed to the occasional butt-pirating in a skanky hotel.)

At any rate, here is what I want for Christmas. Anything you can do to help would be greatly appreciated.

1. A mute button on the iPhone that allows you to mute another person during an actual face-to-face conversation.
2. Please give Hillary Clinton a better, more genuine laugh. I think this may involve replacing her batteries or upgrading to Hillary Clinton Version 4.0
3. Please give Barack Obama eight years of more experience, or at least enough so he realizes that four years of living outside the United States as a child does not exactly qualify as “foreign diplomacy and policy.”
4. Can you please make John Edwards a little uglier?  Being that pretty makes people skeptical of casting a vote for Mr. Handsome Pants.
5. Please make George W. Bush apologize to all of Iraq’s innocent civilians caught in the crossfire of an unjustified war. It would probably go something like, “Uh, sorry for totally, uh, killing you. Uh. Oops. My bad.”
6. A constitutional amendment banning gay Republicans.
7. A redefined “Federal Marriage Amendment” which would define marriage in the United States as a union of whoever fucking wants to get married.
8. A constitutional amendment banning Hummers, aka The Earth Fucker. For more info please visit www.fuh2.com   On this same note, can you help spread the word about global warming? And as punishment for any New Englander who says “Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind warmer winters!” – please subject them to a week-long waterboarding ‘treatment.’
9. A Democratic president in 2008. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I am praying to every deity and divine being for this one. If we all work together for one common goal, anything is possible. Except maybe giving Mitt Romney a personality that doesn’t resemble his first name.
10. As a reward for his eight years of honorable service as the Vice President of the United States, please lock Dick Cheney in a room with the entire cast of High School Musical. Entertainment to include nightly screenings of “An Inconvenient Truth”, toys made in China and hand jobs from Larry Craig.

Happy Holidays Santa. 

Love, Me

P.S.  Here are some cookies and hot chocolate.  Sorry I bit the heads off the gingerbread men.  I was practicing my ’shock and awe’ tactics.

That depends.

- Will you do me a favor?
- That depends.
- On what?
- On what the favor is. I mean, by prefacing your request of a favor with the question of if I want to do you one gives me the option of saying no. If you’re going to ask me to pass you the bag of potato chips, well then, sure, I will do you a favor.  If you’re going to ask me to remind you when it’s 6 o’clock, then no problem, favor granted. If you’re going to ask me to smother myself in Vaseline, wrap myself in plastic wrap and then go door-to-door asking people to sign the Magna Carta, then fuck no, I won’t do you a fucking favor.
- Wow. Ok. Nevermind then.
- Good. I hate doing favors.

_____________________________________

- Are you being facetious?
- That depends.
- On what?
- On what facetious means.

It’s Never Too Late to Try (To Get Adopted)

Dear Angelina,

Congratulations of your relatively recent adoptions of multi-cultural children. It’s so good to know that your family is not only happy and rich, but colorful as well. Literally.

I am writing to request that you adopt me next. Yes – I know I may be white, but I often look beige in the right light. You also might be wondering if I already have parents who are capable of raising me properly with love, tenderness and compassion. Yes, I do have these kinds of parents, but quite frankly, they don’t make nearly as much money as you do. This makes me financially needy and I know this makes your heart hurt.

You also might be wondering why you should adopt anyone as old as I am, as I am well over the age of 18 and should be legally responsible for myself. Well, to this I say: I can not only be your child, but I could save you a lot of money while doubling as your manager – which ultimately would lead to saving you from a lot of embarrassment as well, i.e. Billy Bob Thornton and “Life or Something Like It.” I don’t think we need to say anything further on this subject.

And a bonus: I am of legal drinking age, so when you get tired of that dolt Brad Pitt, who probably is about as exciting to have a conversation with as talking to a milk jug, we can go get some drinks and share some laughs over your latest escapades as a Goodwill Ambassador. And then play drinking games with your Global Humanitarian Award. Real family bonding.

Thanks for your time. I will commence with getting the official papers in order

P.S. Please forward to Madonna.

How to Write a Cover Letter

January 21, 2004

Dear Sir or Madam,

I am writing in response to the _________ job listed at __________. Rather than subject you to a boring cover letter in which I engage in and display my uncanny ability to suck up, I will get right to the exact points as to why you should hire me – besides the obvious one of me being pretty much the greatest candidate you will ever see for this particular position.

Reasons Why You Should Hire Me:

1.   I have extensive experience in establishing, coordinating, creating, developing, implementing and executing.
2.   My computer skills include and are pretty much limited to: Spider Solitaire, Instant Messenger and iTunes.
3.   I can maintain professional relationships without the use of sex or guns.
4.   I have never had a microchip implanted in my head. Or at least I don’t think I have ever had a microchip implanted in my head.
5.   While on business trips, I never steal people’s leftover food outside of their hotel rooms. Except that one time, but I was super drunk.
6.   I serve as a great liaison between employees and the facsimile machine.
7.   One time I oversaw something. I think it was a project.
8.   My Myspace and Facebook profiles are set to private, so only my friends can see my naked keg-stand photos. Though, I have to admit, I look really good.
9.   My attention to detail is outstandering.
10. I have researched, analyzed and monitored financial and demographic factors to capitalize on market opportunities and minimize effects of competitive activity.
11. The above displays my ability to use Google in order to blatantly plagiarize so that it seems like I know what I am talking about.
12. I live in Maine, so I am realistic about the salary for this position. I realize that if this job were in New York City I would be making enough to purchase a one-bedroom apartment, some really nice black clothes and a time-share in the Hamptons, but since I live in Maine I will make enough to barely cover my rent and an occasional PBR at happy hour prices.

Thanks for your consideration and for hiring me without putting us both through the absurd interview process. I would love to tell you all about the last time I had to work with a group of people to achieve a common goal, but I secretly hate groups of people as well as goals.  I really just want this job so I can use your postage meter for free.

Sincerely,

________________

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I (dis)like you

“Do you like me?”

“I don’t dislike you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“You’re so skinny!  How do you stay so thin?”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

“Really?  And that keeps you thin?”

“Well, I’m also bulimic.”

“Oh.”

Karma : Action : Reaction

Karma.
They say that karma translates into action and reaction.
That there are no accidents.
Every cause has an effect, and, in turn, every effect has a cause.
That when we die we leave everything behind, except our karma and spiritual realization.
I guess that’s why I didn’t help that little, shriveled-up old man the other day when he fell crossing the street and almost got hit by that car.
I mean, I was like, “Dude…I think you might have deserved that.”

Brian

By the way, Brian is a big Fuck Head.  
A big, annoying Fuck Head.
Imagine, if you will, the most annoying person you know
and quadruple their annoyingness
and at the same time
imagine them probing a deep, open wound on your thigh
with a bread knife.
That’s Brian.
And in other bad news
he’s wearing the lamest 70s-retro-checkered pants.
But what really pisses me off is that time I moved the couch away from the wall
and found all his comic books, his old pork rinds and my little sister
all covered in dust balls.
What a jerk.
Sometimes I want to grab him and put him in a hamster cage
because I think hamsters are just as annoying as Brian
and his lame-ass, baby-poop colored checkered slacks.
Because that’s what he calls them.
He calls them
slacks.