So I was thinking about how I'd write this really amazing blog entry that would pull people in and get them interested in my life. Then I realized that I'm boring and my life is dull. So I started reading Dorian's blog and someone at some point said we 'should have our own sit-com'. For the sake of proving them wrong, I grabbed the ole' handycam and started recording. Enjoy my heavy breathing [too many boogers] nasally voice and verbally abusive ways. I wish I could say that the video was an act, a put-on, but sadly, it is not. Ask Dorian. This is our life. I'm pretty horrible. She'll probably leave me soon. Plooz love me and follow my blog. Ploz.
Casanova Frankenstein | MySpace Video
[I used myspace video because they allow fucking huge files. Eat it, Tom]
In other news we went to a discount grocery store and the signs that hung in the aisles sent me into giggling fits. This one in particular:
It also turns out that Captain Sig of Deadliest Catch fame has launched a line of discount frozen fish treats, which come in three distinct variaties:
In more interesting news, I recently ate KFC's "Double Down" 'sandwich'. I think that's the closest I ever was to having Dorian walk out on me, but it was totally worth it. I mean, it's a fucking sandwich that has two fried chicken breasts instead of buns, and in the middle is melted pepper jack cheese, bacon, and some kind of chemical sludge.
It was glorious. Dorian suggested I write some kind of review, and she got some pretty good pictures but I think we'll save that for next time. Also, the above picture is just a reminder of the bear paws that I pass off as hands every day. The Double Down really isn't as small as my hand makes it look. Honest.
According to Dorian I am a Gorilla. The 'Silverback of white people'. Isn't she lovely?
EDIT!So I want a header, but my computadora skills only extend as far as MS Paint, lol. [ew] So I found this:
Which I then turned into this:
Which I think is a lot funnier. But I just want him sitting on the throne. Not bathroom. So if someone made me a pooping robot header with some sort of fancy font, I'd love and follow and comment them for life. Or until I forgot.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
So I'm sitting here at work, not really working at all, when all of the sudden this God Damned Robin hurls itself head first into the window I'm sitting in front of. He died. I saw him coming, and my first reaction was to duck. Isn't that funny? I think it is. What would have been even funnier is if the Robin had decided to phase through the glass, osmosis style.
But then what? I'd be stuck in a tiny little room with some crazy osmosis bird banging around, or maybe not at all - maybe he'd just keep on osmosis-ing right through the rear wall and out of my life, leaving me utterly confounded. I'd probably piss myself and go crazy.
Last night Dorian and I went out for drinks with my coworker/pal Codey after I got off of work. We were drinking these drinks called 'otterpops' that got me drunk. Maybe because I had about five of them. With double shots of vodka. Quickly. Or maybe it's because my Irish drinking powers are waning, and I'm just turning into some regular fat guy who goes to Applebee's with his wife and friend to drink fruity cocktails on a Saturday night. Who knows? The Shadow knows. Did you like that movie? Do you even remember it? I did, and obviously do. Which is why I'm talking about it.
On Monday we are going to my Mom's house and I am making chicken fajitas [I somehow manage to make the word rhyme with vagina] which is a dish I make pretty well, I think. I will eat more than I should, hopefully get along with my Dad, and then we can catch up on Breaking Bad and I can blame my covertly dropped farts on my 17 year old Pit Bull, Coosie.
In other news, I am hungry. A cheeseburger sounds simply delightful, but I'm honestly a little worried about osmosis birds now. They say that birds crash into windows and glass doors because they can't see the glass, but that bastard could definitely see me, and had his osmosis plan worked, he would have phased into my skull and liquified my brains. Then I couldn't write a blog warning you all about the impending threat of the Osmosis Birds, and the Coroner would look at my scrambled brains and blame it on drugs and everyone would shrug and maybe one or two people would cry, the end, no more Davie, that's that.
So, no cheeseburgers. Even though I am within walking distance of Burger King. I can smell the grease. I kind of want to call them and hiss "I can smell your grease!" the way Multiple Miggs said he could smell Jodie Foster's cunt in The Silence of the Lambs. But I doubt they would get the reference.