In the Future I'm Taller

"Ten Things."

Or...as they say in Spanish:

"Ocho Amigos Enchilada."

(never hurts to add a little culture to the posts)

Anyway...

I saw this on “Misfit Mania’s” site…and thought:

“Man…I have to pee.”

(I drank a lot of coffee that morning)

Actually, I thought:

“This should be fun. Man…I have to pee.”

(I told you…seriously...I drank, like, 5 cups)

Anyway…

The task is this:

List ten things that you would like to say to people one day.


I did not see any rules here…

...so I’m assuming that this does NOT have to be based in reality.

This is a good thing...as I barely spend any time there.

So…

In no particular order, here are:

10 Things that I would like to say to people one day:

(sorry..that was a little over-dramatic)

1) "Wow...those penis enlargement pills REALLY WORK!"

This is good news...

...as it validates the $300 I just spent on these f*ckers.

If there was a "1a" it would be: "Wow...I just got to use my new giant penis!"


2) “I just had a threesome with Scarlett Johansson and Jessica Alba.”

3) “Why yes, that IS my 12 inch penis in your ear.”

(said to either Scarlett Johansson or Jessica Alba)

(also see #1 for reference)



4) “Ladies and gentlemen...I introduce to you my butler...MR. BILL GATES!!"

(Bitch owed me money)


5) “Yes boss, that IS my steaming pile of shit on your desk.”


6) “..and that's how I killed Osama Bin Laden using the super computer that I invented to create a cure for cancer."

That's right, baby.

I'm THAT awesome.


7) “I appreciate the gift, son. But I wanted a yellow Ferrari, not a red one.”

Ungrateful little sh*t.

Kids.

8) “Stick that in my ass again, and I’ll kill you.”

Wait..wait…scratch that last one.

(unless I'm also saying it to Scarlett Johansson or Jessica Alba)

Fine...new #8:

8) “Wow. The Playboy Mansion is everything I thought it would be.”


9) “I’m five-foot-THREE! I’m five-foot-THREE! Finally! Finally! I'm five-foot-THREE!!”


10) “Happy 50th Anniversary, honey. Here…you can take my red Ferrari.”

Seriously...I wanted A YELLOW ONE.

It's like my son doesn't even know me.

Anyway...

Please note that there’s a distinct possibility that #10 will not happen.

This is primarily because of numbers 2, 3, and 8 (either #8...it doesn't really matter).

Here’s to hoping, though.

Love ya, hon!


************************

If you're interested in doing this, have at it.

I don't tag people ever since I got teased in the 8th grade for actually playing tag instead of smoking pot with the rest of the kids.

This is also why I have "a list."

Just link back to whoever you got the idea from.

It's the nice thing to do.

Enjoy.

Dear Moog, The "Blue Balls" edition.

It's another time for an exciting episode of "Dear Moog"...

Where I answer your questions as honestly as I can.

Just like I do when strippers ask me what I do for a living.

Seriously, Cinnamon...

I AM a Plastic Surgeon during the day...

...and I save Harp Seals from slaughter at night.

It's in my nature to be both smart AND helpful.

Now...

WHERE'S MY LAP DANCE, BITCH?!


**********************
Disclaimer:
I am not responsible for any stupid sh*t you do to yourself or others as a result of taking any of my advice seriously. There, I think that covers it.

You've been warned.
***********************

Our first letter comes from Catscratch Diva.

Dear Moooooooooooooog,

Since women don't have balls, I am wondering what the female equivalent to BLUE BALLS might be. Any insight?

With many thanks in advance,

Catscratch Diva

***********************

Dear Catscratch,

This is an excellent question.

I had no idea that sexual deprivation was actually possible for women...

...since they pretty much hold the cards (when I say "cards" I mean "vagina") and can literally walk onto any street corner and get it whenever they want.

I know this because I'm usually at those same street corners paying for it.


But I digress...

I can hereby offer the following terms for women who have that "Blue Ball Feeling" (Trademark Pending).

(also, a special shout-out here to Crayola for providing input)

Here we go:

"BLUE BALL" EQUIVALENT TERMS FOR WOMEN:

1) Aquamarine Areola

2) Violet Vagina

(um...this can also be a sign of overuse)

3) Turquoise Taint

4) Lavender Labia

5) Copper Clitoris

6) Raw Umber Uterus

There you go.

You're welcome.

On a side note, if any of you ladies out there actually HAVE lady parts that ARE these colors, please go to WebMD.com immediately...

...as you're probably dying...

...or at least contagious.


Also, call the last guy you banged.

He really should know the true reason why he currently has a Periwinkle Penis.

*****************

There you go! Yet another exciting episode!

I have a "Dear Moog" link on the top left of my page, or you can email me here.

Want bad advice? Want sh*tty answers?

You've come to the right place.

Drop me a line.

And don't forget to check out my other articles at Scrivel.

Moog out.

The Jackson Five (Mississippi - The Epilogue)

I'm baaaaaaaaaaack.

THANK CHRIST.

I managed to escape Jackson, Mississippi with my life, and return home to the relative calm of New Hampshire.


Just for a quick comparison:

New Hampshire's motto: "Live Free or Die"

Mississippi's motto: "You GONNA die"

Five things I learned from my trip:

1) Never trust Google's hotel ratings

The sh*thole I stayed in was rated as four stars on Google:


After being there personally, I can see this place ONLY being a four-star rating if the total number of stars you could get was 500 million.

2) Don't piss off the motel desk clerk

Here's how my check-in conversation went.

Me (disgusted): "I didn't realize this was a MOtel...I thought they booked me into a HOtel."

Lady clerk: "Say what?! This ain't no MOTEL."

(say in a "Oh NO YOU DI'NT!!" voice for best effect).


Me: "A hotel has it's room doors on the inside. A motel has them on the outside. That's the difference. This is a motel."

*pause*

*Evil stare*

Clerk: "Here's your key."

Bitch.

MOTEL Bitch.


3) Pissed off lady motel clerks are crafty

Three minutes after the above took place:

Me (coming back into lobby): "I need a new room."

Lady MOTEL clerk: "Why?"

Me: "There's hot air coming out of the air conditioner and the room smells like pee."

Then (I swear)...she laughed.

She booked me into the "hot urine room" on purpose.

I hate travel.


4) I now know why Mississippi was ranked as the number one state for obesity and unhealthiness

You know how in hotels (sorry...MOtels, too), they give you the list of "Local Restaurants?"

Well...here's what mine said (I am not making this up):

Local Restaurants:

1) Wendy's
2) Taco Bell
3) McDonald's
4) Arby's
5) Kentucky Fried Chicken
6) Popeye's

I also saw a "Bojangles Fried Chicken" on the way to the job site.

That makes three fried f*cking chicken places in a 1/2 mile radius.

Seriously...How much Goddamn fried chicken can you fat sh*ts take?

7) IHOP
8) Waffle House
9) Domino's Pizza
10) Papa John's Pizza


..then..also on the "local restaurant" list...

11) Sunrise Liquor Store

I guess liquor has grain in it...which kind of makes it like cereal...which I guess allows this place to be considered a restaurant.

If I lived there, I would end up looking like this:


5) Always try to end your trip on a good note

Good things DID happen to me.

For starters, my last leg home was upgraded to First Class.

Hooray for me!!

Unfortunately, it was a red-eye, so I slept through the whole f*cking thing and didn't enjoy it

(nope..missed the drinks, the pillows, the hot towels..the whole shebang).


However, I sat next to a soldier on that flight.

He was in camouflage, so I'm assuming he was a soldier.

Either that, or he was doing a really, really bad job trying to hide...because I could see his hands.

Amateurs!!


Anyway...

Me, being the anti-social prick that I am, didn't talk to him. As such, I had no idea if he was coming or going or just dressing up.

When we got off the plane, I was following behind him to the lobby of the airport.

There, greeting him at 1 o'clock in the morning, was a HUGE crowd of people.

They had banners, flowers, balloons...they were all clapping and cheering and jumping.

I'd never seen anything like it in person.

This guy was coming home.


I stopped to clap, too...I was really happy for him.

It was then that I heard it:

"Daddy!!"

His little daughter, probably about 2 years old, came bolting out of the crowd straight and bear-hugged him.

Awesome.

Awesome, awesome moment.

Had my tear ducts not been all dried up from crying alone in the bathroom of my motel for the past two days out of sheer terror...

...I would have probably started welling up right then and there.

Hell...I'd only been gone for two days, and my kids attacked me when they saw me this morning like it's been ages since I left.

Granted...they attacked me with knives and a homemade shiv...but, whatever.

Anyway...

I CANNOT imagine what life is like for his kids.

Here's the article of the soldiers coming home to New Hampshire from Afghanistan.

The guy on my flight was Captain Dan Ouellet. His name is at the bottom of the article. A mix-up of his orders got him on my flight instead.

Welcome home, Captain.


Anyway...

So - yeah, Mississippi sucked more ass then Jenna Jameson...

...and if I ever go there again it will have to be in a f*cking body bag because there's NO WAY I'm volunteering to put my life in my hands again.

Like that soldier does.

I wish I'd talked to him, now.

I'd tell him "thanks."

Moog's back...

...and he's going to sleep now...without the fear of gunfire outside my door.

Later.

15 Bullets (Mississippi, Day 2)

Mississippi.

How's it going?

HOW'S IT GOING?!?

Read this, then YOU tell me.

This is an IM conversation I had with my buddy Rob the other night...

...as I waited in the office for Hillbilly Bob to get his hick-ass-grit-eating-duck-shooting sh*t together.

(Note how Rob immediately goes for the "anal violation by Southern guy" angle):

********************************************

Rob: hey...hows your ass?

midgetmanofsteel: Nice. This place is a f*ckhole

midgetmanofsteel: I'm IN A MOTEL

midgetmanofsteel: A F*CKING MOTEL

Rob: lol

midgetmanofsteel: ..I was typing my blog for tomorrow...and a f*cking bug landed on my hand. What the Hell is up with that sh*t?

Rob: LOL


midgetmanofsteel: the guy that works here - get this

midgetmanofsteel: has FIFTEEN bullets in his cube that...wait for it...

Rob: bullets?

midgetmanofsteel: ...he FOUND IN THE PARKING LOT

midgetmanofsteel: THE PARKING LOT

Rob: real bullets?

midgetmanofsteel: THE F*CKING PARKING LOT

midgetmanofsteel: BULLETS

Rob: lol

midgetmanofsteel: YES...REAL F*CKING BULLETS

midgetmanofsteel: I want to go home.


Rob: maybe you can get a cheap hooker

midgetmanofsteel: yeah...and some syphilis

midgetmanofsteel: awesome.

Rob: LOL

midgetmanofsteel: I pull into the parking lot of MY F*CKING MOTEL (remind me to sue Garber F*cking Travel), and there are security guards.

midgetmanofsteel: I have bars on my f*cking room window

Rob: no way

midgetmanofsteel: it's like I'm in the TV show "Good Times"

midgetmanofsteel: I'm expecting Thelma and JJ to come through my door

Rob: LOL


Rob: dyn-o-mite!

midgetmanofsteel: yeah..dynamite

midgetmanofsteel: my rental car is going to get stolen

Rob: you poor bastard

midgetmanofsteel: you watch

Rob: LOL

Rob: stop it. I am crying

midgetmanofsteel: yeah...me too...but I'm not laughing as I'm doing it.

Rob: I am sure

midgetmanofsteel: I'm going to curled up in f*cking fetal position all night in the bathtub holding the toilet brush as my weapon.

Rob: lmao


midgetmanofsteel: I'm SO outta here tomorrow

midgetmanofsteel: it's like I'm living inside Shawshank

midgetmanofsteel: the guy that works here just took the other vendor chick outside because she smokes

midgetmanofsteel: he's like..."you don't really want to go outside."

midgetmanofsteel: WTF

Rob: no way

Rob: wow

midgetmanofsteel: ah...they made it back.

Rob: Jackson, Mississippi is not a vacation spot?

midgetmanofsteel: yeah...for violent f*cking repeat criminals it's an apparent hotspot

Rob: lol


Rob: is the chick hot?

midgetmanofsteel: no..she looks like my foot.

Rob: short and stubby

midgetmanofsteel: she looks like my foot, if my dog chewed on it for three weeks.

Rob: nice

midgetmanofsteel: yeah...she's a beaut.


midgetmanofsteel: ..and when this is over...I'm going to be driving back to my shiteating motel at 3 in the f*cking morning.

midgetmanofsteel: awesome.

midgetmanofsteel: I can only imagine the wonderful crowd that will be there to greet me in the dimly lit parking lot.

midgetmanofsteel: I'm gonna get stuck with a shiv...I just know it.

Rob: find a big stick with a nail in it

midgetmanofsteel: if I find it...it will probably already be embedded in my skull.

Rob: now now..it cant be that bad

midgetmanofsteel: no..it's bad.

midgetmanofsteel: I'm little, Rob. LITTLE.

midgetmanofsteel: it's like waving a four year old boy in front of a priest...I'm MARKED.


Rob: ok..maybe you can borrow billy bobs gun

midgetmanofsteel: I'm just going to collect those bullets and make "POW! POW!" noises and throw them.

Rob: just park real close to the door and run your LITTLE ass off

midgetmanofsteel: yeah...extra bonus...all the "CLOSE" spots are cordoned off for some f*cking reason

midgetmanofsteel: I'm guessing there was a murder.

Rob: LOL

Rob: be good and hit em low

Rob: like you have a choice

***************************************

There you have it.

Maybe the last words I'll ever write.

Honey...the Will is in the filing cabinet.

..and no...you cannot remarry.

Let's just get that out there in front.

Moog out.