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Sunday, May 29th, 2016
11:59 pm - Note to Self #Lost Count
New entry on an old site.

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Friday, November 30th, 2012
11:31 pm - NOTE TO SELF #688
After a 2.5 year absence, I see that Live Journal looks like The Walking Dead. Glad to see some of you survived the onslaught. Now where do ya keep the braaaaaaaaaaiiiiins?

current mood: Hungry

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Tuesday, June 1st, 2010
8:42 pm - NOTE TO...AHH, SCREW IT
I guess Facebook dropped Fatman and Little Boy on this site...fallout sucks.

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Monday, September 7th, 2009
10:14 am - NOTE TO SELF #687
Idea for movie. Gay Mexicans try to sneak across the border and somehow end up in Australia. I'll call it, "Brokeback Wetbacks in the Outback."

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Sunday, August 16th, 2009
10:27 pm - NOTE TO SELF #686

Sung to the tune of "I will survive"...

When charges were first made, I just lied, Figured I'd play my game and y'all would forget about those dogs that died, But after I was convicted, I spent many nights thinking how I did me wrong, At least everyone forgot, When I showed up at the airport with a bong in my carry on, But now I'm back, From that awful place, Every night in prison, I had tears running down my face, I should've changed my stupid ways, I should've gotten a new hobby, If I had known for just one second, I'd do a deuce in the penitentiary, They said go, Walk out the door, Watch your back now, The P in PETA, Don't stand for peace, That's for sure, Now you're an Eagle, As long as you keep your nose clean, Don't even think about owning a beagle, If you know what I mean, Want support?, From fans in Philly, You better score often, To keep their owner from looking silly, And when you cry yourself to sleep, think of those dogs 6-feet deep, Never ask why, You were that guy, You were that guy!!!!!!

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Wednesday, August 5th, 2009
10:06 pm - NOTE TO SELF #685
The world is so complicated today. There's Iraq, unemployment, racism and the economy. I've really given everything a lot of thought lately. One issue in particular has haunted me for a long time. It's been weighing on my mind for years. If you asked me a decade ago, the answer would be easy. It'd be an enthusiastic, yes! No doubt about it. I'm there. Count me in. I am all for it. But as time passed, I started to doubt myself. Maybe I wouldn't roger up and answer the call if my number was called. Well, finally I stand before you and proudly say yes...without a doubt...I would fuck Kirstie Alley.

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Friday, July 24th, 2009
5:11 pm - NOTE TO SELF #684
Why are some people so quick to bring race into every issue? I think all these folks should be painted purple. That way, when they feel mistreated and say, "It's because I'm purple, isn't it?" They'll be able to hear just how silly they sound.

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Sunday, July 19th, 2009
10:59 pm - NOTE TO SELF #683
My comment regarding this story was the featured user comment for the local Virginia newspaper. It's the second time I've pulled that off. I'd like to thank the kid who made 28 pipe bombs to blow up his school. Without him, none of this would have been possible.

After reading my comment, scroll up to read the story:


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Tuesday, July 7th, 2009
8:07 pm - NOTE TO SELF #682
My list of people who I'm sick of hearing about:

1. Michael Jackson
2. Brett Favre
3. Alex Rodriguez
4. President Obama
5. Tiger Woods
6. Manny Ramirez
7. Michael Phelps

On a side note, wouldn't it have been cool if Michael Jackson jumped out of his casket at today's memorial service and started doing Thriller? Man, that would have rocked the house. Anyhow, lying there like Steve McNair cheating on his wife...that was cool too.

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Thursday, June 25th, 2009
11:17 pm - NOTE TO SELF #681
Picture Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett and Ed McMahon on an elevator to heaven together as the Muzak version of "Thriller" plays in the background. Of the three, which one do you think would seriously wonder whether or not the elevator is truly going up? ;)-

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Wednesday, April 29th, 2009
9:57 am - NOTE TO SELF #680
Some of my thoughts for today:

Topic: Swine Flu.

"AIDS ain't no joke either but nobody seems too concerned about that anymore. It's the media's disease of the month club. Cancer, AIDS and Mad Cow are all yesterday's news. Even that flesh-eating virus is boring now. Swine flu is like an IPOD. It's the new thing. Everybody's getting it."

Topic: My girlfriend's daughter who got to stay home from school because she's sick.

"Wow. She said she'd pull a Ferris Bueller and she did it. I'd start administering enemas on the hour to teach her the value of an education! You might as well go to lunch with me, because she definitely doesn't want you around cramping her free day off. She knew you had plans. You're supposed to NOT be there so she can have some fun. You threw a monkey wrench into the whole thing by staying home. I gotta give it to her. It's brilliant. You might want to change her name to Erwin, because she grew a huge set of balls during the night."

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Thursday, February 19th, 2009
5:18 pm - NOTE TO SELF #679
I paid $479 to get a brand new dishwasher from Lowe's Home Improvement. That included delivery. The store is 6 miles away. For a $79 delivery charge, I could have humped that thing home on my back with a 12-pack in the rack. But what the hell, after several botched voicemail messages and two delivery attempts, I finally got my appliance delivered to my door.

Although I was very much infatuated with the young, Mexican girl who filled-in for the old dishwasher...I was glad to see this new mechanical device...so the "Sexican" could focus on more important duties.

Here's a blow-by-blow of today's do-it-yourself installation:

I was faced with 3 connections: one drainage, one electrical and one water. All three kicked my ass. I eventually got two connected. The water line was a bitch. It leaked repeatedly despite prayer and an animal sacrifice (that thing barked all the time anyway).

It wasn't long before i realized they don't include the $1.99 elbow pipe I need to hook it up. I paid almost $500 and they can't throw in the $1.99 pipe they know I need. Game on. So I run to the hardware store and sit in traffic because some old lady totally t-boned an SUV by a Rally's burger joint. I mean. She tore that thing up...and was just sitting in her car with minor front end damage as the cops swept away the last of her victim's vehicle.

Once I made it home, the dishwasher took a quick 3-0 lead by slicing my hand with a drainage connection, spraying me in the face with high-pressure water and giving me a mild shock at the electrical hook-up. Stunned but not out, I immediately responded with a plumber's wrench wheel-house to the stainless steel front followed by an uppercut to the motor. It was apparent...this one was gonna go down to the wire. There would be no winner until the circuit breaker got thrown!

Just when it looked like I was going to pull ahead for good, tragedy struck. I solved the leak and said, "Take that you mother-fucking dish licker!" Well, things spiraled out of control from there. It static-cling shocked me when I took off the protective, front plastic cover and it swallowed a screw when I tried to bolt it in place (even though the directions said don't drop a screw in it and I said, "Yeah, what kind of moron would do that?"). I frantically tried to retrieve it. No go. Just when I thought alcohol might be a factor, I rallied and nailed that sucker to the counter like my last date...and gave it pot. Lots of pots. It quickly became more cooperative...and hence, I am washing dishes while typing on the computer. Victory is mine...as long as I throw some Doritos in it every couple hours.

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Wednesday, January 21st, 2009
8:46 pm - NOTE TO SELF #678
Wow. You ever experience something so wonderful that as you're in the heat of the moment, you actually tell yourself to savor it? You recognize what a once-in-a-lifetime event it is...and make a conscious effort to remember every little nuance. You tell yourself life doesn't get any better than this, knowing nothing half as good will ever come again. If you had one wish, it wouldn't be for money...it'd be for this single night to never end. But in your heart, you know nothing lasts forever. Eventually this will end...and there's nothing you can do about it. Time marches on. So you dedicate all your energy to enjoying every single second of what's happening. Your senses are heightened. You soak up everything around you, hoping it'll somehow seep into your subconscious and materialize later on in some heavenly dream. Well, I never had one of those moments. Ever.

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Saturday, November 8th, 2008
8:43 pm - NOTE TO SELF #677
Have you ever heard the term raw sewage? I'm wondering...who's cooking that stuff?

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Tuesday, August 26th, 2008
9:09 pm - NOTE TO SELF #676
Have you seen this Gatorade commercial with Yankees' shortstop Derek Jeter? He says they watch highlights in slo-mo, fast-mo and any kind of mo you can think of...

So I'm wondering, do they watch them in homo?

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Saturday, August 16th, 2008
7:30 pm - NOTE TO SELF #675
I wanted to work out my abdominal muscles, but I couldn't afford one of those fancy ab-workout videos...so I bought "Buns of Steel" and used those exercises for my abs. Now I crap out my belly-button.

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Sunday, August 10th, 2008
10:54 am - NOTE TO SELF #674
Last night I dreamt I was in a world that revolved around Brett Favre. Everybody had a cheesehead hat. Every channel on TV was Brett Favre. Brett was the chef on the cooking shows. Brett was hunting or fishing on the outdoor shows. He was playing football on ESPN. He was the baby's daddy on Springer. In schools, kids had to take Favre-101. They even had to learn how to speak Favre. If you wanted to say, "Do you want to partake in the football?"...In Favrese, that's "Fa Fu favant fo favrake favreball?" And getting an "F" is better than getting an "A". The grades are F, A, V, R and E. You don't wanna bring an "E" home to your parents. Also, BFE didn't stand for Bum Fuck Egypt. It stood for Brett Favre Egypt. So a typical conversation would go something like:

Brett Favre III - "Man, I got lost and ended up in the middle of BFE."

Brett Favre, Jr. - Cool. I wanna go to Brett Favre Egypt.

Yeah, so BFE wasn't a bad thing anymore. Of course, that's what things sounded like when people were speaking English, which was the second language, and not Favrese. Everyone had to wear green, because Brett only plays for teams with green uniforms. They even took red off traffic lights. Just green and yellow, the Green Bay Packers' colors. The lottery only had one number. Brett Favre's number - 4. Megamillions was 4-4-4-4-4-4 every night. Problem was after dividing the money with everyone else who won, ya got like $1 back, which was equal to about 4 Favrollars at the current exchange rate.

In the United Favres of Favre, you got to retire at age 38 which seemed way cool, but then you had to unretire 2 weeks later then re-retire and unretire again. Then go back to work for less pay. That's when I woke up. Right after I re-re-retired. And when I woke up, I discovered I wasn't actually in a dream world that revolved around Brett Favre. I was in the real world as Brett sees it.

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Monday, August 4th, 2008
5:39 pm - NOTE TO SELF #673
According to this guy on death row, he's too fat to be executed by lethal injection. His "puffiness" makes it hard to find his veins...and oh yeah, he takes headache medication which could counteract the effects of the meds that make lethal injection humane. As a result, they say his death could be excruciating! I think he's onto something. We should fatten up every death row inmate for the kill! I'm pretty sure he didn't care if those two girls he raped and murdered were comfortable, so I say he has a choice:

1. Stop taking the headache meds. Live with a headache and then die to make it go away. When he says, "This headache is killing me" he'll be right.

2. Lose weight. What better incentive for weight loss? Like a boxer who gets down to his fighting weight, he'll be a loser getting down to his dying weight...and after death, the real progress starts!

3. Stay fat. Get fatter if you want. Then we'll cut you in half to reduce your weight to manageable portions. It'll also make finding a vein for lethal injection a whole lot easier.

Story here:


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Sunday, August 3rd, 2008
4:18 pm - NOTE TO SELF #672
My driveway is concrete. It has a crack problem. I had to send it to rehab. Now where will I park? I guess I could park in the lawn. But it has a weed problem...damn.

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Sunday, May 25th, 2008
6:02 pm - NOTE TO SELF #671
If I go down on Aunt Jemima, is it wrong to expect it to taste like pancakes? The maple syrup lube didn't help either.

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