Can You Draw Me A Picture, Please??

I have no idea where the hell tonight's post is going to take us. Just strap yourself in and come along for the ride. I decided to have this damn blog, right? I decided I would write something every fucking day? (why the fuck did I do that? Chalk it up to newbie status, idiotic moment, Shawn's cocky syndrome, whatthefuckever) But tonight was the first night that I truly had no clue what the hell I wanted to write about. Just Reece fucking Witherspoon Clueless here. So, I say to the three guys sitting at the table, write the first two words that come to your mind on this piece of paper. No matter what they are, just write them.

After they were finished, I had six words and one conclusion. Guys are (sorry for the generalization one intelligent man who reads my blog) dumb. Like, seriously, great to look at, handy to have around when you need something heavy moved or an itch scratched, but really, really not capable of performing on demand. I had just told them I had no subject matter for tonight's post. What should have been at the forefront of their tiny little shrunken brains? Blog topic. The following are the Hot Topic words I am now turning into tonight's post. Buckle up, I am about to go man bashing!!!

Word One: Fuck. Wow. Blow me over with a fucking feather. Sadly, this little nugget of deliciousness came from the one sad sack who does read this fucking thing I call my passion and life's work (okay, yeah, I'm exaggerating, but, it's my world in here, freedom of expression, yada, yada). Fuck, that's what you give me. Hello? I use that in every other fucking sentence without being prompted. I have to monitor the number of fucks I use in comments on other people's blogs. Wow again!! Thanks!!

Word two: No. Ok, fuck you. Now you are just being obstinate. I have a word for you, too. ASSHAT! This word just pisses me off. I hate this word. It's so negative. It is the embodiment of negativity. I defy you to make it sound positive. Oh wait, " There is no sign of STDs in your genital area." Ok, I just defeated myself. I am even better than me. Fuck no. How did I manage to outdo myself? Okay, guess I will let him stay here, he clearly isn't as dumb as I thought. :)

Word three: Shenanigans. Okay, while I love this word, (it makes me envision little drunk Irishmen running around knocking things over) HOW THE FUCK DOES IT FIT INTO A POST?? Especially since you have a piece of paper where you already see the words Fuck and No clearly listed above it. Shady bastards. Shady Bastard's Shenanigans. Now we are getting somewhere. It's like a band. Think Chumbawamba



Word Four: Andrew. Well, why the hell not. For the record, no, that is not the name of the guy who wrote it down. Which makes me think I need to sit down and let him know that if he needs to tell his friends and family something, I fully support him, no matter what. It's his life to live and he shouldn't try to conform to small town ideals if it means he is uncomfortable and feels like he isn't being true to himself. He shouldn't have to hide himself behind a parade of crazy ass girlfriends when clearly, what is really at the front of his mind, is a boy named Andrew. There you useless fuck! I hope your girlfriend's crazy ass reads this and spends the entire weekend that your precious Saints are playing in the Super Bowl badgering you about why you said Andrew instead of her name.

Word Five: Ouch. Ouch? Oh, you are going to think ouch. I am going to beat the fuck out of you useless fucks. I write everyday. It makes sense that I would have a hard time stringing together 100's of words day after day. You have no fucking excuse. Two words that I can work with. All I ask. Is this an, "Ouch, trying to think of two word makes my empty fucking head hurt."? Ouch! Ouch, mom is going to beat my ass for inviting five girls to meet me and the other boys at the bowling alley and just now 'remembering' to tell her about it tonight. Oh yeah, I guess ouch does make sense from this one. My bad. Moving on.

Word Six: Cold. Cold! Fucking stellar. Cold!! It's Cold, I hate cold. I love my son. Ouch made sense, cold I hate and I love writing about things I hate. We are in the midst of another blue ball weather job as we speak. You know, where mother nature gets us all worked up, sucks us in, blows through, then moves on leaving us straight up and stuck with nowhere to go but a freezing shower and touching ourselves.(I realize this is a male reference, however, there is no appropriate female response, I guess I could say hard nippled, but it is merely not harsh enough to describe the pain and hatred here) Bitch.

So, there it is, tonight's post. For all of our sakes, i sure as fuck hope N9nuh, the dog I am taking care of, does something really fucking interesting tomorrow, otherwise, I may have to wander the neighborhood (egads, that could get ugly) or rifle through my memory to get something good for you. Believe me, my sordid past could provide us with enough posts to keep us busy for the rest of the year.

Good times.....for the most part.
Bye for now.