Journal

Most will agree it’s been a terrible week so let’s not talk about it.

I’m not going to talk about healthcare, we’ve all had enough.

I’m not going to talk about unemployment topping 10%, it aint getting better anytime soon.

I’m not going to mention the coward behind the podium losing two wars and crippling the economy. He aint going anywhere anytime soon.

I’m not going to mention the peace loving Muslim on Fort Hood that the politically correct trained to defend America.

I’m not even going to mention Joe the Plumber filing bankruptcy and going on a shooting spree in Florida.

I’m just not going to discuss those things that inspire strife, I’m tired,

So I thought instead I would like to share some of my Monday morning inspirations. Some notable quotables from the right side of my closet. That area of hangers I call my fancy duds…ready? Then let’s begin.

Don’t act stupid, we have politicians for that

TEAMWORK

Means never having to take all the blame

I don’t mind going to work… It’s that eight hour wait to go home that sucks

I’d rather be a SMART ASS than a DUMB SHIT

Some people say I have a bad attitude

I SAY SCREW THEM

To save time let’s just assume I’m never wrong

How about a

LITTLE LESS TALK

and a little more

SHUT THE HELL UP

I try to keep the coffee buzz going

Until the alcohol buzz kicks in

Don’t sweat the petty things

Don’t pet the sweaty things

I’d agree with you but then we’d both be wrong

For my next trick I will need a condom and a female volunteer

Nobody notices what I do

Until I don’t do it

RETIRED

I was tired yesterday and I’m tired again today

FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS

Except the one where you’re naked in church

I DID NOT ESCAPE…

They gave me a day pass

I’M IN MY OWN LITTLE WORLD

It’s okay, they know me here

I have kleptomania,

But when it gets bad

I take something for it

Sometimes I pee when I laugh

MAKE SOMEONE HAPPY

MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS

I aint never gone to bed with an ugly woman

But I’ve woken up with a few

PADDLE FASTER

I hear banjo music

Inside this person

Is a young person wondering

What the hell happened…

TELL YOUR BOOBS

TO STOP STARING AT MY EYES

I’m not a gynecologist

But I’ll take a look

If you’re happy and you know it

Kiss my ass

A penny for your thoughts

A DOLLAR IF YOU FLASH ME

Years ago

 I stumbled upon the great taste of beer

I’ve been stumbling ever since

NEUTER YOUR PETS

And weird friends

And family

WHO FARTED?

Oh that was me

I’m trying to see things

From your point of view

But I’m having trouble

Getting my head that far up my ass

I’d tell you to

GO TO HELL

But I work there and I

don’t want to see you everyday

Okay, that’s about all. Thanks for reading and hope I made you smile.

Have a great day everybody

October is inundated with Halloween movies… DUH. But I had the unfortunate experience of witnessing a film titled Zombie Stripper. A marvelous title equal to the likes of Lassie Go Home or Snakes On A Plane. Titles easy on the imagination that don’t keep you awake at night.

Unlike other high budget box office hits like Blair Witch Project and Rocky Horror Picture Show, I suspect Zombie Strippers was funded through the sales of Watkins, Boy Scout popcorn and GRIT magazine subscription. This is believable as it seems to have been written and directed by an amalgamate of ten year old boys.

This becomes painfully apparent when the early scenes open with a rag tag special ops group led by a Black Panther complete with the black beret. Uniformity was not in the script or the budget which accounted for the scantily clad buxom Latino gal placed second in command.

 The group has been sent into a scientific laboratory where experiments in near post mortem flesh have gone awry and the team equipped with high tech unreliable laser guns soon find themselves in an expendable situation. Save for a long haired young recruit who escapes out the window of a hermetically sealed facility, the team soon becomes zombie chow.

ENTER THE NEXT DOOR NEIGHBORS.

 Every government laboratory has a shady topless bar next door, right?

The film soon lends itself to the sociological strife amongst the working girls of the bar and before you can turn the channel it’s overrun with half naked bad acting drooling blood on horny overweight middle aged men toting one dollar bills. The only things lacking for total cliché are a biker named MEAT and setting it all in Raccoon city.

If the marquee were up to me it would read:

IF YOU ONLY SEE ONE ZOMBIE STRIPPER MOVIE THIS YEAR

 DON’T MAKE IT THIS ONE