Awesomeness is coming.
I promise.
Sadly, school and life have been crazy busy lately, but I have an update to kill all updates.
Lets just say it involves me being tied up and paddled/spanked by a porn star on stage in front of other people.
Yeah, get excited.
There's pictures.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Great Teddy Bear Massacre of 2010.
Courtesy of the City of Scottsdale, I have now burned all of my teddy bears.
Why, you ask?
Because teddy bears are soon going to acquire machine guns and kill us all.
Hell, there's even signs around town warning us of this impending war.
WHY HAS NO ONE CAUGHT ON?!
Don't let the pink background fool you.
It's straight up evil and might as well be covered in blood.
My advice to you:
Burn all your stuffed animals, and don't let them near any gun shops anytime soon. If you're going to buy a machine gun, please lock it up, and not in the kids toy chest.
You're welcome.
I just saved your life.
If you died, I don't think I could BEAR it.
Why, you ask?
Because teddy bears are soon going to acquire machine guns and kill us all.
Hell, there's even signs around town warning us of this impending war.
WHY HAS NO ONE CAUGHT ON?!
Don't let the pink background fool you.
It's straight up evil and might as well be covered in blood.
My advice to you:
Burn all your stuffed animals, and don't let them near any gun shops anytime soon. If you're going to buy a machine gun, please lock it up, and not in the kids toy chest.
You're welcome.
I just saved your life.
If you died, I don't think I could BEAR it.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Chelsea Handler and I are in a Serious Relationship. Part II.
Alrite bitches, I'm back with a Chelsea update that will tickle your coslopus and/or kibbles and bits.
As you may remember from last time, I left off with Kelsey and I drinking heavily in case Chelsea wanted to have a handy with me on stage. Remember? Scroll down if you don't...to refresh. Go ahead. I'll wait.
....................
..............
........
Welcome back! Lets begin where we left off...
After getting my LARGE beer, we made our way into the venue where we sat in our AWESOME seats. I clapped with joy and turned to my right to thank Kelsey for our amazing seats...when I saw Kels was sitting next to an inordinately large man who was encroaching on her space and making her frown like a sad puppy.
Since I was in my happy place, I offered to trade with her since nothing was going to rain on my Chelsea parade... since it already down-poured. Kelsey denied my request, in an effort to make my night as pleasant as possible, and so I waited with baited breath for my lover to step on stage.
How would she go about approaching me for a handy in front of 5499 other people? I didn't know, but the anticipation was killing me. I quickly scanned the room for my fastest route to the stage and readied myself to hurdle the couple next to me so Chelsea didn't have to wait a minute longer.
Then, the lights dimmed. Clearly, she was setting the mood.
The crowd roared. Clearly, they knew what was coming (pun intended).
Then, a MAN walked out on stage.
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
I'm sorry, but I may be willing to enter into voyeurism with you, Chelsea, but you never mentioned a man being involved. I'm insulted and disgusted. I like coslopus. Deal with it.
So anyway, this toolbag came out and then started telling some jokes...and then I realized... this was foreplay.
You're coy, Handler...but I'm onto you.
She built me up, just to make me wait a little bit longer. She was probably in her dressing room still primping for our evening of magic and unicorns and rainbows. I didn't blame her. I would too, if I were her.
So I waited through the dude on stage with the backwards hat that talked about his kid and sex and some other weird shit like that... and I'll admit, I giggled at times... but it was more of a nervous laughter, because the more time that passed, the more my anticipation rose.
FINALLY, the man left the stage and the lights remained dim.
"THIS IS IT!" I thought to myself, as I adjusted my outfit to make sure everything was properly in place (even tho I wouldn't be staying in it for long). I was ready for her.
And then it happened. She waltzed onto that stage and into my life.
My heart raced.
My palms got sweaty.
It was passion.
I refrained from just running up on stage and ravaging her, because even I know that security would be all over my shit like white on rice. So, I patiently waited to be invited.
I waited.
And I waited.
Then, magic occurred.
There, on stage, Chelsea was simulating masturbation.
I knew it was for me.
I knew she was doing it because she couldn't gather the courage to go through with our fornication on stage.
I understood.
I smiled, I nodded, I concentrated on what she was doing.
The evening continued, Chelsea continuously talked about sex, clearly because I was on her mind... and the crowd was pleased. I was pleased.
Not the kind of pleased I was hoping for... but pleased none the less.
At the end of the show, she exited the stage and made her way out to where all of her doting fans were lined up to get her autograph. The line was quite massive, but I was willing to wait to talk to Chelsea about what hotel room she was staying in...
As we were waiting, I told Kelsey of my concern that Chelsea might not even take the time to look up into my eyes and realize that I was the one standing before her... Kelsey then came up with a master plan that was AMAZING.
"Okay, so I really think Chelsea would love your blog if she read it."
"I know! But what am I going to do? Write it on a napkin and give it to her?! I WOULD YELL AT ME FOR THAT LEVEL OF CREEPINESS. She will crucify me."
"You're right......... I have an idea"
"What?!"
"Do you still have that extra book on you?"
"Yeah..."
"I think you should autograph it for HER"
"Say what now?!"
"Write your blog address in there, write a funny message, autograph it... and tell her that when she's bored on the plane she should read it."
"OMG THAT'S AMAZING. I'M DOING IT. ... i don't know my blog address though..."
"Dummy."
I then called everyone that would mildly appreciate being woken up at 2am eastern time for the awesomeness of me giving Chelsea my blog address. FINALLY, Nikki picked up and laughed at my absurdity but willingly provided me with the URL.
I then autographed the book, and waited for my turn to meet Ms. Handler:
I apologize for the bluriness... my hand was shaking with anticipation and pent up sexual energy.
It says: Chelsea - Read this shit, it's borderline amazing.
I got to the front, and handed her my book... which I had her write out to "Phmegan" - she had mentioned in her show how she hates when stupid people spell their name wrong and then get mad at her for misspelling - "THERE'S NO PH IN CECELIA, ASSHOLES! AND WHO NAMES THEIR KID SHANIQUA...REALLY?!"
She looked at my request for "Phmegan" written on the post-it attached to my book and started laughing...
"That's funny! Phmegan..."
Chelsea called me funny.
I couldn't breathe.
"Keep your cool Allen... keep your cool!" raced through my mind.
"FUCK, I SPELLED YOUR NAME WRONG!" Chelsea screamed as she scribbled on the page.
"It's okay," I replied, "I usually go by Shaniqua anyway."
She gigged.
We were clearly in love...
I then handed her the other book which had my autograph in it...
AND SHE STARTED TO SIGN IT!
Clearly she was undermining my celebrity, and this was our first lovers spat.
"NO! THAT' ONE'S FOR YOU! Read it on the plane when you're bored or something"
"YOU SIGNED MY OWN BOOK FOR ME?!!?"
"YES, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU EXPECT?!!? I DON'T HAVE MY OWN BOOK YET, SO I HAD TO SIGN SOMETHING!!"
"Okay, thanks."
And she handed the book to her minion... obviously to be put in her carry-on.
As we walked away, I took Kelsey's hand and asked what her and Chelsea talked about while she was up there...
"Oh, she just mentioned that Kelsey is her alternative personality."
Err go, by my calculations, I'm pretty sure I sleep with Chelsea Handler every night.
And bone.
Awesome.
As you may remember from last time, I left off with Kelsey and I drinking heavily in case Chelsea wanted to have a handy with me on stage. Remember? Scroll down if you don't...to refresh. Go ahead. I'll wait.
....................
..............
........
Welcome back! Lets begin where we left off...
After getting my LARGE beer, we made our way into the venue where we sat in our AWESOME seats. I clapped with joy and turned to my right to thank Kelsey for our amazing seats...when I saw Kels was sitting next to an inordinately large man who was encroaching on her space and making her frown like a sad puppy.
Since I was in my happy place, I offered to trade with her since nothing was going to rain on my Chelsea parade... since it already down-poured. Kelsey denied my request, in an effort to make my night as pleasant as possible, and so I waited with baited breath for my lover to step on stage.
How would she go about approaching me for a handy in front of 5499 other people? I didn't know, but the anticipation was killing me. I quickly scanned the room for my fastest route to the stage and readied myself to hurdle the couple next to me so Chelsea didn't have to wait a minute longer.
Then, the lights dimmed. Clearly, she was setting the mood.
The crowd roared. Clearly, they knew what was coming (pun intended).
Then, a MAN walked out on stage.
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
I'm sorry, but I may be willing to enter into voyeurism with you, Chelsea, but you never mentioned a man being involved. I'm insulted and disgusted. I like coslopus. Deal with it.
So anyway, this toolbag came out and then started telling some jokes...and then I realized... this was foreplay.
You're coy, Handler...but I'm onto you.
She built me up, just to make me wait a little bit longer. She was probably in her dressing room still primping for our evening of magic and unicorns and rainbows. I didn't blame her. I would too, if I were her.
So I waited through the dude on stage with the backwards hat that talked about his kid and sex and some other weird shit like that... and I'll admit, I giggled at times... but it was more of a nervous laughter, because the more time that passed, the more my anticipation rose.
FINALLY, the man left the stage and the lights remained dim.
"THIS IS IT!" I thought to myself, as I adjusted my outfit to make sure everything was properly in place (even tho I wouldn't be staying in it for long). I was ready for her.
And then it happened. She waltzed onto that stage and into my life.
My heart raced.
My palms got sweaty.
It was passion.
I refrained from just running up on stage and ravaging her, because even I know that security would be all over my shit like white on rice. So, I patiently waited to be invited.
I waited.
And I waited.
Then, magic occurred.
There, on stage, Chelsea was simulating masturbation.
I knew it was for me.
I knew she was doing it because she couldn't gather the courage to go through with our fornication on stage.
I understood.
I smiled, I nodded, I concentrated on what she was doing.
The evening continued, Chelsea continuously talked about sex, clearly because I was on her mind... and the crowd was pleased. I was pleased.
Not the kind of pleased I was hoping for... but pleased none the less.
At the end of the show, she exited the stage and made her way out to where all of her doting fans were lined up to get her autograph. The line was quite massive, but I was willing to wait to talk to Chelsea about what hotel room she was staying in...
As we were waiting, I told Kelsey of my concern that Chelsea might not even take the time to look up into my eyes and realize that I was the one standing before her... Kelsey then came up with a master plan that was AMAZING.
"Okay, so I really think Chelsea would love your blog if she read it."
"I know! But what am I going to do? Write it on a napkin and give it to her?! I WOULD YELL AT ME FOR THAT LEVEL OF CREEPINESS. She will crucify me."
"You're right......... I have an idea"
"What?!"
"Do you still have that extra book on you?"
"Yeah..."
"I think you should autograph it for HER"
"Say what now?!"
"Write your blog address in there, write a funny message, autograph it... and tell her that when she's bored on the plane she should read it."
"OMG THAT'S AMAZING. I'M DOING IT. ... i don't know my blog address though..."
"Dummy."
I then called everyone that would mildly appreciate being woken up at 2am eastern time for the awesomeness of me giving Chelsea my blog address. FINALLY, Nikki picked up and laughed at my absurdity but willingly provided me with the URL.
I then autographed the book, and waited for my turn to meet Ms. Handler:
I apologize for the bluriness... my hand was shaking with anticipation and pent up sexual energy.
It says: Chelsea - Read this shit, it's borderline amazing.
I got to the front, and handed her my book... which I had her write out to "Phmegan" - she had mentioned in her show how she hates when stupid people spell their name wrong and then get mad at her for misspelling - "THERE'S NO PH IN CECELIA, ASSHOLES! AND WHO NAMES THEIR KID SHANIQUA...REALLY?!"
She looked at my request for "Phmegan" written on the post-it attached to my book and started laughing...
"That's funny! Phmegan..."
Chelsea called me funny.
I couldn't breathe.
"Keep your cool Allen... keep your cool!" raced through my mind.
"FUCK, I SPELLED YOUR NAME WRONG!" Chelsea screamed as she scribbled on the page.
"It's okay," I replied, "I usually go by Shaniqua anyway."
She gigged.
We were clearly in love...
I then handed her the other book which had my autograph in it...
AND SHE STARTED TO SIGN IT!
Clearly she was undermining my celebrity, and this was our first lovers spat.
"NO! THAT' ONE'S FOR YOU! Read it on the plane when you're bored or something"
"YOU SIGNED MY OWN BOOK FOR ME?!!?"
"YES, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU EXPECT?!!? I DON'T HAVE MY OWN BOOK YET, SO I HAD TO SIGN SOMETHING!!"
"Okay, thanks."
And she handed the book to her minion... obviously to be put in her carry-on.
As we walked away, I took Kelsey's hand and asked what her and Chelsea talked about while she was up there...
"Oh, she just mentioned that Kelsey is her alternative personality."
Err go, by my calculations, I'm pretty sure I sleep with Chelsea Handler every night.
And bone.
Awesome.
Friday, April 9, 2010
I Clearly Work In The Wrong Office.
I apologize for diverging from my Chelsea story... I shall return to it shortly... but I just simply couldn't let this moment in time pass by without telling you all about it.
Yesterday, as I was leaving my office to go to Happy Hour, I happened to look down at the tiled ground beneath me and saw something "borderline amazing:"
Yes, ladies and gentleman, that is a THONG lying in the middle of the hallway. I'll give you a second to absorb the awesomeness.
..........
Now, I have a few questions regarding this:
1. Where did it come from?
2. Do I work with a slut?
3. Who is the slut?
4. Did it come from a different office?
5. What office has THAT kind of happy hour?
6. How do I get hired at THAT office?
7. Does it belong to someone hott? (God, I hope so...what a waste)
8. Did they just fall off and she didn't notice because she recently lost a lot of weight and/or got gastric bypass?
9. Do people carry extra underwear with them at all times?
10. Am I supposed to have extra underwear in my purse?
Any answers to the above questions would be appreciated.
God? That means you.
Give me guidance.
Also too, I would like to leave you with this image...
Picture it, Sicily, 1943...
Me, walking out of my office all alone, and looking down to see a thong. A smile slowly spreads across my face, and I'm soon smiling ear to ear as I begin to giggle. I then say "are you fucking kidding me?!" to no one in particular. I look around, to try to share this moment and its insanity with anyone - a colleague, a passer-by... anyone. No one is there... so I just stare at it and continue to giggle with my jaw on the ground.
Then, I get an idea. "HOLY HELL, I NEED TO BLOG ABOUT THIS!"
I sneakily look around to make sure no one has approached me in the last 7.3 seconds, and take out my camera-phone. Even me, in all of my creepiness, would care if someone found me taking a picture of a thong on the floor... I do have (very low) standards.
I then snap a picture, turn around, and skip merrily down the hallway.
----- Back to present.-----
Please, sing along if you've watched American Idol this season:
Thong on the ground, thong on the ground, looking like a hoe with your thong on the ground...
Yesterday, as I was leaving my office to go to Happy Hour, I happened to look down at the tiled ground beneath me and saw something "borderline amazing:"
Yes, ladies and gentleman, that is a THONG lying in the middle of the hallway. I'll give you a second to absorb the awesomeness.
..........
Now, I have a few questions regarding this:
1. Where did it come from?
2. Do I work with a slut?
3. Who is the slut?
4. Did it come from a different office?
5. What office has THAT kind of happy hour?
6. How do I get hired at THAT office?
7. Does it belong to someone hott? (God, I hope so...what a waste)
8. Did they just fall off and she didn't notice because she recently lost a lot of weight and/or got gastric bypass?
9. Do people carry extra underwear with them at all times?
10. Am I supposed to have extra underwear in my purse?
Any answers to the above questions would be appreciated.
God? That means you.
Give me guidance.
Also too, I would like to leave you with this image...
Picture it, Sicily, 1943...
Me, walking out of my office all alone, and looking down to see a thong. A smile slowly spreads across my face, and I'm soon smiling ear to ear as I begin to giggle. I then say "are you fucking kidding me?!" to no one in particular. I look around, to try to share this moment and its insanity with anyone - a colleague, a passer-by... anyone. No one is there... so I just stare at it and continue to giggle with my jaw on the ground.
Then, I get an idea. "HOLY HELL, I NEED TO BLOG ABOUT THIS!"
I sneakily look around to make sure no one has approached me in the last 7.3 seconds, and take out my camera-phone. Even me, in all of my creepiness, would care if someone found me taking a picture of a thong on the floor... I do have (very low) standards.
I then snap a picture, turn around, and skip merrily down the hallway.
----- Back to present.-----
Please, sing along if you've watched American Idol this season:
Thong on the ground, thong on the ground, looking like a hoe with your thong on the ground...
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