Blomblog

month of no-cheese-hell has come to it’s dramatic conclusion today. i’ll tell you what folks - i’m gonna it the eat the shit out of some bronx tonite. whole pie for the blomdaddy.

yum!

this month: no fried goods. holla.

thanks for making me smile on this one mikey.

an open letter to the cab drivers of san diego…

please stop giving me life-advice. please. last nite’s advice:

do not fall in love or marry a woman that rides bikes and/or enjoys to ride horses. with this, i became intrigued. ‘why’s this?’ i asked.

answer one:
it is unhealthy when she is pregnant with your child for her to ride these bicycles and horses as it puts the child danger. okay i can deal with that and i’ll keep my trap shut so he will shut up.

nope…

answer two:
you will never be able to please a woman like this sexually. again, i’m intrigued - and a tad disturbed. ‘why’s this?’ i asked again. well, she is on her bicycle and horse all day experiencing friction in the parts below so when you are attempting to please her sexually you will finish way too fast for what she needs. i hold the vomit back and look out the window with a sheepish grin. ‘hm… okay…’ he then informed me that his father imposed this wisdom upon him.

so, in conclusion, i’d like to say thank you cab driver from saving me from marrying a girl who rides bikes or horses. i had no idea…

Mr. Waldo Geraldo Faldo.

Funny man Waldo Faldo.

Hurry kids to your local IKEA shopping center - i’m on sale now!

i woke up at 5 this morning to use the restroom and grab a glass of water as i found myself a tad parched. i eased myself back into the comforts of my blankets and pillows and grabbed ahold of henry cat to bring myself back into the peaceful habitat of dreamland. with my eyes closed and sheep graciously leaping over imaginary fences within my head i heard some mysterious footsteps outside my apartment. i found this a little bizarre as it was around 5:30 in the morning now. i stayed there frozen listening to hear what was going on. at this point i heard the creaking of my screen door begin to open and i got a little more freaked out. the door knob began to turn and i realize this thing is trying to come in to my apartment. this caused me to freeze up even more as i’m essentially a huge wimp. i reached for my glasses as the thing attempted the doorknob again. i had to do something so i got out of bed and grabbed for a softball bat and peered out the peephole. i couldn’t make out anything so i moved for the window. the thing was gone. i figured if he was trying to get in my house then he’d probably attempt to get in next door as well so i held tight with bat in hand pretending to myself that i’d save the day if the thing appeared again… lies. a man shuffled into the parking lot at this point with disheveled graying hair and pants hanging low appearing to struggle with walking in a state of inebriation or intoxication of some point. i let him scramble off as my fear subsided into anger and creepiness. what if my door was unlocked as i sometimes leave it? i clambered back into bed unable to sleep and watched the cosby show to ease my unsettled nerves.

i got out bed a couple hours later to get ready for work. when i left apartment to head to the office i was greeted by an empty pack of cigarettes on my porch and another sweet little surprise. the man shit on my porch. human shit. on my porch. on the wall. on the floor. and some in between.

so i just want to say thank you homeless man for scaring the shit out of me and apparently, yourself.

okay so i post this as pt.2.0 although i never mentioned the first attempt - yet here is late night whisper screaming over shark attack electro jams part two…

i will post version 1.0, which is now a real song, in the near future.

enjoy:

this is a bit over the top, but obviously the point, and i find it pretty damn funny

yeah the movie is pretty lame and dated - but goddamn this is still hilarious

after extensive listening to bruce springsteen lately i hereby deem clarence clemons ‘lord hornblower’