to my nation
abdication
renunciation
dire situation
pure desolation
no consolation
a consultation
recommendation
medication
moderation
meditation
relaxation
self-examination
reconciliation
remediation
regeneration
re-creation
restoration
reclamation
of my nation
1J1
Well, here’s a full-house of stupidity. Kraft recently launched an ad campaign for its Zesty Italian salad dressing with a bare-chested, hot Italian dude endorsing the product. In one particular ad, the dude is laying naked on a picnic blanket with a corner of the blanket pulled over his, um, junk (modesty people!) and a bottle of the dressing laying next to him, along with other various picnic items.
If I were a woman, I don’t think I’d be wanting a salad after seeing this. Might need to change the panties, though…
I’m being shut out as the world comes crashing down
The currents pull me under as I begin to drown
A single question comes to me as I fight for air
Since I am so alone should I even care
There’s no one above me to throw the saving rope
Surrounded by the darkness I slowly lose hope
Should you have to fight to gain somebody’s love
Why is it not given freely from the man up above
I’ve tried my best but it’s not good enough for you
It all came crashing down and there’s nothing I could do Continue reading
Things have been depressing around here of late. Things have been depressing in real life, too. So I figured…fuck that noise. It’s time for some BLC™. I need a little aggression. I need to cut loose. So this time, despite the fact that he’s a fucking jackass, I’m proud to hand my blog over to…
Blunt Life Coach™ speaks: Well, that was unexpected. Thanks for the great introduction, Twindaddy, but you’re still a whiny bitch. Why don’t you get your fucking shit together and stop being a pussy? Douchebucket.
I’m not here to insult Twindaddy, though that would be fun. I’m here to answer questions because I’m smart and you’re not. We all have our cross to bear and mine is being smarter than all you fuckers. So here we go.
I live in The United States of America, a country which has had few significant terrorist attacks, the most notable being the attack on the World Trade Centers, September 11, 2001. The number of civilians who died on September 11th (2,996) is roughly comparable to the number of civilians my country has killed with drone attacks just in Pakistan alone…
Image via Tumblr.com
I am writing from a very dark place. Even though I spent last evening with my father and stepmother, having a couple of drinks and sharing a few jokes, it didn’t ease the oppressive blackness surrounding me. In fact, coming home to an empty house somewhat amplified it.
Today is my birthday. For that reason I am reflecting on the past year. The shittiest year I’ve ever endured.
I started last year full of hope. I know that because I went back and read my birthday post from last year. I wished for a wonderful year for my wife and I at the close of that post. For some reason I saw last year as one full of promise. A year where things would finally settle down and happiness would finally come and claim me. Oh how wrong I was.
Hola amigos. Today is Tuesday. That means it is time for me to force you into listening to my music. Ok, well I can’t actually force you into listening to it. You can choose not to play the songs that I pick. I just like to pretend I have some sort of power over you.
While I have your attention, you should go check out this awesome post by BrainRants. It’s all kinds of amazing. Onto the music!
Continue reading
My wife and I waited impatiently to be called back for her ultrasound. Our nerves were frazzled and we had been waiting seven long days for the upcoming moment…
My wife lay sprawled on the table while the nurse liberally splattered cold blue gel atop her exposed belly. The nurse then stuck the microphone into the innocuous pile of ooze, gently agitating it so that the gel covered the entire device.
Indistinct sounds emerged from the attached speaker, with intermittent glimpses of a heartbeat escaping. Mostly, all we heard was static. The nurse moved the microphone over the entirety of my wife’s abdomen several times, never settling the contraption in a particular spot.
