The Sedated Ape

My fabulous web page turned three years  old the other day.  Time flies when sleep 12-15 hours a day.

The first thing I wrote here was this : Everything I needed to know about life, I learned in Kindergarten: If you go to the bathroom in your pants, they let you go home

That was actually based in truth. When I was in preschool I would intentionally piss on myself so they would call my mother to come get me. It wasn’t a long term solution though. Eventually the teacher brought in some emergency back-up pants that they made me wear after my “accidents”. The back-up pants were brown, corduroy and much too big for me.

So, I lost the battle. But I won the war. Eventually I talked my parents into letting me drop out of preschool. I guess even back then my parents must have known that me and education would never be a very good match.

These are real -

3 – “Come see my bearded clam”. There are very few things you can call a vagina that would make it sound unappealing, but calling it your “bearded clam” is one of them. Also avoid calling it:  “The Ole salmon cannery”, “McCunt” or “Lil’ Hillary”.

2- “Surprise! You’ll Be Fucking a Midget Today!”… As far as surprises go that one would be hard to beat.

1- ““Some diseased bitch just sneezed all over me”… In fact, that may very well be my favorite sentence  of any type.  I can’t imagine why I ever would, but if I were to write my autobiography The title is going to be:“Some Diseased Bitch Just Sneezed All Over Me – The Tony Myers Story”

Someone got me a shirt for Christmas. I usually end up getting a lot of clothes. I’m not complaining. If people didn’t give me clothes my entire wardrobe  would only consist of  shirts that I bought at baseball game gift-shops and t-shirts that have Zippy The Pinhead on them. Also,  pants.

But that’s not what I want to tell you about.  This is the tag from the shirt i got this year:

Here is a picture of the shirt.  That’s not me,  of course.  And mine is black and not some faggy teal color.

Nothing ordinary about a guy like that, no sir!  Guys who wear short  sleeve polo shirts are  rebels who make up their own rules! Men  with the guts to wear shirts like that  live their whole lives on the edge of the edge!

That’s the type shirt that says:  Screw you  and your middle class values!  I reject your bourgeois,  closed minded,  middle class ideas of the ordinary! Does my shirt make a square like you uncomfortable?  Too “in your face”?  Tough, deal with it!  Who are you to judge me?!!   You can’t stop me – I’m moving too fast.  It’s just how I roll!!  So just  hang on and enjoy the ride,  bitches!!!”

Just let the people at the funeral home write the obituary or you might end up with something like this:

What you name a product often plays the most important role in determining if it’s going to be a success or not. I learned this the hard way. I was trying to sell a line of videos like those “Girls Gone Wild” DVDs, but my “Girls Presenting Symptoms Of Severe Mental Psychosis” videos never sold worth a damn.

If you’re worried about the nations security it’s a good idea to try not to think about the kinda guys that you knew in high school that ended up joining the army. It’s scary to think that all that’s standing between us and our enemies are a bunch of guys who could only manage to pass gym and wood shop.

I’m not saying it should happen in every one of the movies, but birds striking an airplane does happen from time to time. It’s not uncommon. So for the sake of realism they really should make a few scenes where Superman shows up at the bad guys lair covered in bird guts.

They say that you can’t get someone to do something under hypnosis that they wouldn’t normally be willing to do otherwise. Which makes you wonder why anyone would pay for something like that.

There was a guy on talk radio complaining about how the founding fathers never wanted us to have government sponsored health care. But he never thought to mention that fact that they are all dead now! Explain that!

If it’s brown flush it down

If it’s yellow, let it mellow

If it’s red, you’ll soon be dead

It’s sad, but sometimes you just need to give up. It’s time I face it. No matter how many online petitions I start, no matter how many angry letters I write or how many times call my congressman Ben Franklin just isn’t go to come back from the dead.

I’m old fashioned in a lot of ways. I believe in putting women on a pedestal. It’s a lot cheaper that hiring a good sculptor.

I just got back from a cruise. It was a pretty good deal. You can save a lot of money by going off season and picking one of their less popular destinations. It’s cheaper and less crowded and touristy that way too. There was a lot more walking that I would’ve liked, but Des Moines really is a pretty nice city.

If I’m ever elected to the Presidency one of the first things I’ll do is re-establish full diplomatic ties with Mark Cuban. Sure, he’s pretty obnoxious and it’s odd that a billionaire would still get his haircut for free at the barber college, but is that really reason enough to justify a trade embargo?

I’ve been trying to hire an au pair for about six months now, but so far I haven’t been able to find one willing to work for me. The interviews haven’t been going well. They get all suspicious and nervous when they find out you don’t have any children. It makes them question your motives.

Exactly how much weight would I have to gain for the government to consider me too big to fail?

I went to New York about six months ago. I had been there before, but this is the first time I visited Ellis Island. I guess it’s kinda corny to be patriotic, but I found the trip very emotional and moving. It’s humbling to think of all the millions of immigrants from all over the world who came here to be part of America’s great “Melting Pot” so their bodies could be melted down and made into soap.

A lot of stores and shops advertise that their business is “family owned and operated”. I don’t understand how that’s supposed to be a selling point. Just about everyone is part of a family of some sort. All they’re really saying is that they won’t hire orphans. That seems unfair and mean-spirited to me.

Every year around five million cars and trucks roll off the General Motors assembly line. It’s no wonder they are having so much money trouble. If GM had any brains at all they would build their assembly lines on level ground so they wouldn’t keep doing that.

In retrospect I shouldn’t have screamed and fled the room. I’m pretty sure now that she was just trying to be sexy when she said “I want you inside me”. It’s likely that she wasn’t a cannibal after all.

I’d to be an explorer like Columbus or Magellan and go off on adventures to discover unknown distant lands. Unfortunately, that’s a lot harder than I would’ve thought. When you enter “unknown distant lands” into the search bar on Orbitz it doesn’t bring up any matches.

Lesson I learned the hard way. If you come out from the ballgame and go see some drunk pissing on your tire in the parking lot wait until after he’s finished to punch him.

Running a sports team is very different than any other business. Most people will never be called into their bosses office and be told, “Frank, you’ve been a valuable asset to the law firm for 20 years, but I just wanted you let you know that you’ve been traded to the Wal-Mart in Fargo, North Dakota”.

A lot of courts now have a “three strikes and you’re out” policy when dealing with felons. I don’t think that’s a good idea. What happens if the catcher drops the third strike and the bad guy makes it to first base before they can throw him out? Seems like a pretty big loophole. I believe that if you’re going to use metaphors you need to stick with them to the logical conclusion.

I hate calling the folks. They keep on gabbing for hours. Mom kept going on and on about this recent hip surgery she had , which didn’t even seem that much cooler than any other kind of surgery to me.

Lady Gaga – why you shouldn’t let infants name themselves.

My New Year’s Resolution for 2010: Once around the sun… No, wait. never mind. That’s my new Year’s Revolution.

Poe would’ve saved himself a lot of grief if he just bought screens for his windows. They let fresh air in and keeps ravens out.

Free will is a nice idea in theory, but so far it hasn’t really worked out for me.

If I ever time travel back in time to the middle ages I’ll wow them all with my impressions of celebrities that will be born centuries in the future. I can’t really do any impressions, but how are they going to know that all movie stars won’t sound the same?

I was planning to donate some of my bone marrow to this cancer guy I read about in the paper, but I chickened out at the last minute. I was embarrassed so I tried to fool them, but it turns out that the people at the hospital can tell the difference between human bone marrow and dog treats that have marrow in the middle.

This story is true. Names have been changed by Jewish people who wanted to assimilate themselves into American culture, but that has nothing at all to do with this story.

I was a pretty dull kid. There was only one time that I ever even came close to being in trouble with the police.

One day in my junior year of high school I devolved a strong urge for bomb-pops. They’re popsicles that look like this:

I hadn’t had one since I was a little kid and got them from the ice cream man, but when I get a craving for a specific food it will bother me a lot until I get it.

You can’t count cards. You don’t know how. I know you think you can, but you can’t. You aren’t smart enough. You can’t count cards. It doesn’t matter what you’ve seen on TV. You can’t count cards. It doesn’t matter what book you’ve bought. You can’t count cards. It doesn’t matter what system you’ve found on the Internet. You can’t count cards. It doesn’t matter what your friend says he can do. He can’t count cards.You can’t count cards either. You can’t count cards. Just shut up. You can’t count cards.  Don’t make me  fucking  hurt you, I swear to God I’ll do it. You can’t count cards. YOU CAN’T COUNT CARDS.

Later, I’ll tell you all  my advice for Texas Hold ‘em Poker players. I  call it  ”Your little poker outfit makes you look like a big fat queer”.

Hope this helped:

This next one wouldn’t be half as good without the bug-eyed cat avatar:

Knocked out?

It probably won’t happen, but if I ever get a star on “Hollywood’s Walk Of Fame” I don’t want my star on the sidewalk like everyone else’s. I want my star right in the middle of the intersection. That way there will be plenty of tourists whose last words will be, “Tony Myers? Have you ever heard of somebody named Tony My…”.