Friday, April 27, 2012
Friday, April 20, 2012
Why do I have a feeling that this picture was drawn and written by somebody who didn't have a great grasp on English—"yum yum yum", "deighlite".
I am also fairly sure they didn't know how a glory hole works. Meaning, there has to be a hole in order for it to actually work. There's no hole here.
Eh, it's at least crude and if you can't appreciate crude, why are you reading this blog?
Peace out. Have a good weekend
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Over the years I've learned a lot at 3 in the morning. Way more than anybody probably should. Way too much to reveal every detail. So instead, here are few valuable lessons, feel free to add your own in the comments section:
- If you run "slightly" drunk from the cops into a Catholic church and yell, "Sanctuary". This doesn't absolve you from still receiving a thorough thrashing from said cops.
- If you end up on a beach chances are you're going to end up with sand in the lip or the fold of something. And it will be painful.
- If you ever have the chance to drink straight from a Slurpee machine in front of police officers, always take the risk.
- If you have the chance to steal an unattended Pop-a-Shot, do so.
- It's time to go home when you're a straight male and you get a blowjob offer from a dude in giant circus tent.
All of these things pale in comparison to what I learned a mere 36 hours ago.
Having completed a client presentation around 2 a.m. in the suburbs of Atlanta, a co-worker and I ventured to Kinko's for printing and binding. Kinko's at 3 in the morning is either full of burned out college students who smell of puke, booze and the 6 year plan or homeless people who use the internet to jerk it to asian dwarf porn. It's always a mixed bag. And that mixed bag is always full of dog shit.
Having dropped off the files and told we would have to wait a half hour. My co-worker and I decided to head to the closest gas station for random nitrate enriched treats. Walking in, the scent of the rolling hot dog/taquito rollers had me hooked. I never eat hot dogs. Haven't had one for almost 20 years. Taquitos, I could eat taquitos in my sleep, in the car, on the toilet, in a blimp, etc., etc., etc.
Stepping up to the taquito rolling roller, a co-worker was cleaning off the hot dog scum. And then she said the words I'll take to my grave, "Don't cho eat them taquitos, we're gonna throw dem out." I asked of course why, oh why would you throw away the culinary treat of Shakira's homeland?
"See when thay stop rolling, dat means it's time to tho dem away."
Yes friends. Never eat the non-rolling taquitos.
This also means the faster they roll, the fresher they are.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Nearly a year to the day since I first heard the name Zimmer & Kohl Contractors, aka Satan's Inbred Basement Construction Crew and Perpetual Liars Co., I learned they lost their Better Business Bureau accreditation and their rating has dropped from an "A" to a "C-". While an F- would be more appropriate, I am filled with great satisfaction knowing that this company is no longer endorsed by the BBB.
While the BBB stamp of approval has lost some of its luster thanks to the internet, message boards, Angie's List and tons of other social media outlets, it's still a pretty big deal. Search engine results, still list the BBB reviews and complaints near the top. And they are a fairly big piece of our community as far a being watch dogs go.
Anyway, the most recent story of assholery from Zimmer & Kohl involves them lying and trying to cheat a Disabled Veteran out of money and just being all around dicks to him and his family. Read more about it here, under the 3/13/2012 complaint.
While Hachem Riahl or Bin Othman, who knows what his real name is, continues to lie and cheat customers, here's to hoping a few less people will be tricked by this deceitful, corrupt individual and his equally disgraceful company.
Bin, I hope the next time you tangle with a Veteran, he pulls out his service rifle and fires off a round or two.
Don't use Zimmer & Kohl Contractors! You will regret it.
Today's photo comes from the abandoned ice factory I work across the street from.
A couple of weeks ago, somebody threw a brick through the glass front door. So instead of letting the opportunity to trespass go by the wayside, I dove in.
The whole thing was creepy and cavernous. There were rooms with 30 foot ceilings and freezers the size of houses—which is where I found this sign.
Apparently Ron doesn't like people messing up.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Or I just write something that amuses me. Usually satirical.
But today, I have no idea what to say about this photo.
I hope Ricky finds his table and his friends, next time call ahead hillbilly.