Archive for December, 2013

Palmolive Pickup In A Bar

Sunday, December 29th, 2013

Slow Dancing In Life After Death

Sunday, December 29th, 2013

(Or Phil Robertson slow dancing with Anderson Cooper after taking acid.)

Obama & The Truth Don’t Speak To Each Other

Sunday, December 29th, 2013

(CNN) — Two years after the end of the Iraq war, the U.S. State Department confirmed this week that it is providing the fragile country with sophisticated weapons and drones. Iraq needs help fighting against a growing and serious threat – al Qaeda. Hasn’t the line for years from the U.S. government been that al Qaeda is on the run, that its fiercest fighting ability has been weakened by U.S. strikes?

10-years of war for what? The $4-Trillion dollars it will eventually cost us? The 4489+ American deaths?  Countless civilian casualties?  The successful terrorist-recruitment campaign?

Bush & Company lied to us, America.  And now Obama – the master liar – is lying to us about Afghanistan, Obamacare, the economy, and just about everything else he can put his lips around.  Disgusting.

What Is It About Nitwits Named Robertson?

Saturday, December 28th, 2013

Old Duck Phil Robertson has been in the news lately linking homosexuality to bestiality at which, I’d guess, he’s an expert. (BTW – I’M AGAINST CENSORING HIM IN ANY WAY! THIS IS AMERICA, REMEMBER?) It wasn’t too long ago that Christian religious leader Pat Robertson said gay marriages would lead to sex with ducks.  Are these guys related   …  to the same ducks?

Ricki “Garfunkel” Lindhome and Kate “Oakes” Micucci sure hope so.

Step 1. Get The Disco Beat

Saturday, December 28th, 2013

No Nip Slip

Saturday, December 28th, 2013

Women: don’t you just hate it when you wear a beautiful, new low-cut dress to a party and the girls pop out to greet the guests? If you don’t notice it at first, you can tell when a man opens his mouth in udder awe.  Or when his wife stares at you, snarls, and sneers something about you being a little tramp.

Well, fret no more, cherie d’mour, help has arrived:

Wake Up, Sunshine!

Saturday, December 28th, 2013


The Majesty Of An Iceberg

Saturday, December 28th, 2013


Take Out Your Laser Pointers

Friday, December 27th, 2013


Friday, December 27th, 2013

Manhattan, 1972. Retail shopping CRUSH-week between Christmas and New Years and every New Yorker thought it his Constitutional Right to exchange every doofus clothing item he got for Christmas – or thought he got for Christmas – or got for Christmas around 1965.

I worked in Barneys, the World’s Largest Mens’ store and the cacophony of customer craziness was mind numbing. “Sir!”, “Sir!”, “Sir!”, “Pardon me, Sir!” “Sir!”, “Excuse me. May I get some service here?” “Sir!”,“Sir!”, “Sir!”,”Hey, Sir!” “Sir!”,“Sir!”,“Sir!”.

I think I can speak for the majority of the 1st Floor Sales Team when I say we hated them – hated every goddamn one of them who waved a crumbled Barney’s sales receipt at us. There were thousands of them – pushing, pleading, whining, yelling, DEMANDING!

The 1st Floor Team had a little pool going to see which one of us would S-n-a-p! first. I was the odds-on favorite.  I was already demoted from sweaters to ties for being rude to customers.

Working in the tie department was a nightmare! Barneys advertised that they had 100,000 different ties. I never counted them but I must have folded that many at least once a day. There were racks of ties – tables of ties – walls of ties – cases of ties – ties everywhere.

It was about 9:40 pm – 20-minutes until closing – and the crowd had gone. I was exhausted and not exactly in a chipper Barneys mood. I was just mindlessly folding ties on the counter – minding my own business – when this businessman walks over.

“Uh, Sir,” he says, “I don’t see the tie I want here.” SNN…..

I slowly and painfully looked up. “Mister, we carry over 100,000 ties. I’m sure it’s here somewhere.”

“Nope. I looked.” SNNNA….

“Well, Sir, if you looked and didn’t find it, we must not have it. I’m sorry.” And then I started refolding my pile of ties. “Would you GO AWAY,” I thought, “JUST GO AWAY!”

“Well do you have any more ties in the back?” SNNNAAAAAPPPPPPP!

“The ties in the back? No – those are our really good ties. We save those for ourselves. We don’t even have to pay for them – and they’re great ties – but you can’t buy one. Sorry.”

“Are you being smart with me? I pay your salary, you know!”

“Really? Great. Can I have a raise?”

“I’d like to see your manager. NOW!”

“Oh sure, I’ll get him. He’s in the back with the good ties.”

I walked to the back of the store and kept on walking. The A-train stop was only half a block away. I never even bothered to go back for my paycheck.