Thursday, July 07, 2011
I have been given another award.
What in hell is the matter with you people? Have you, at long last, no dignity or self-respect? You all know the drill by now. I get an award and I make fun of the person who gave it to me (like HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, and HERE.) And there's almost no sport left to it when (as is the case here) someone basically begs me to scar them for life. Oh, well. Here goes.
The festering scab on the knee of humanity who gave me this foul bit of refuse is named...
That's really her blog handle - Sick Bitch. I have to say it fits. Anyone who passes such loathsome gas in my general direction deserves that appellation, especially since only one truly sick bitch would take delight in my barbecuing her.
Speaking of barbecue, I'm going to point out what should be obvious to anyone who took the time to go to her blog. Sick Bitch suffers from an eating disorder. If I wanted to take the sleazy way out, I'd make a whole bunch of anorexia/bulimia jokes. However, I admire her courage and honesty in making her malady public, so I'll just sincerely wish her well in her battle and ask her to please forward any pies she's feeling too guilty to eat this weekend.
(Reminds me of MY WIFE's take on an old saw: I was unhappy about having no shoes until I met a man with no feet. MY WIFE says that it would make more sense if it went this way: I was unhappy about having no shoes until I met a man with no feet, but then I said, "Hey! Can I have your shoes?")
Anyway, the thing that most pisses me off about this award is the randomness of my having received it. Sick Bitch decided that she'd hand it off to the last eight people who commented at her place (whomever the poor souls might have been) and I was stupid enough to have left a nice heartfelt response, so this was the reward I got for caring. Now I'm gun shy. If you're sitting in front of your computer, in your underwear, wondering why Suldog never leaves comments at your place anymore, now you know who to blame.
(By the way, if you'd post photos of yourself sitting in your underwear in front of your computer, I'd leave more comments. As a matter of fact, if you skip the underwear, even better.)
(Women, please. I don't need any hairy man butt cluttering up my porno collection.)
Anyway, as with most of these odious travesties, there is a condition attached to the receiving of this award. In order to accept it, I am supposed to tell you a story. I'm pretty sure I can do that.
(Don't get all logical on me at this point. Of course I could just tell the person giving me an award, "No, thank you!" and not have to bother with all of this mean and nasty nonsense. Play along. If you could suspend your disbelief when we sent troops looking for weapons of mass destruction, this should be a piece of cake.)
(Oops! Sorry, Sick Bitch! I won't mention any more carbs. I know they're you're sworn enemies. Me, I've never met one I didn't like. The same goes for naked women sitting in front of their computers and posting photos of themselves, but that's neither here nor there.)
So, a cupcake, a baloney sandwich, and a pizza walk into a bar.
The cupcake says, "Ouch!"
The baloney sandwich turns to the pizza and says, "Wow! That's a crummy old punch line, and a mighty cheap way to mention a whole bunch of yummy carbs just to take a cheap shot at a person with an eating disorder! And, anyway, we walked into the bar, too, so why didn't either one of us say "Ouch!"? This makes no sense at all."
The pizza turns to the bartender, and says, "Do you serve baloney sandwiches and cupcakes?"
The bartender says, "No."
The pizza says, "Good! Gimme a PBR and a shot of Grey Goose, and get rid of these two morons behind me!"
OK, now that the story I was obligated to tell is out of the way, here's another one just for shits and giggles.
(Oog. Shits and giggles. That has to be one of the most distasteful expressions ever uttered. Somebody is sitting on the pot pooping, an idiotic grin on his or her face, giggling while the ass bombs drop. I promise to never use that expression again.)
(Of course, if I had any class at all, I would have deleted the previous paragraph instead of making empty promises, but you knew you were getting the short end of the stick when you came here, so shut up.)
[In case you couldn't guess it, all of the photos from here on out are actual photos taken from Sick Bitch's website. I think she claims they're all of her. I can't vouch for that, but, then again, who in hell would want me to vouch for anything?]
Once upon a time, there was a little girl possessed by the devil.
Since her parents couldn't afford an exorcist, they tied her onto the family horse and took her to the next town over.
There, she enrolled in a class on how to gift wrap a salami.
That didn't cure her of her possession, though, so she joined a coven and made Satan's kid sister materialize.
But she yearned for her childhood days of salami wrapping! Unfortunately, the coven didn't have any salamis to wrap, so she decided the next best thing was to pretend to be carrying a big honkin' loaf of French bread.
The rest of the witches enjoyed pointless pantomime, so she was selected to be First Assistant High Priestess (Perth Amboy) and she celebrated by eating a big gooey cake with valium frosting.
But they used too much food dye in the frosting and it turned her hair red.
Then the pizza finished it's beer and left the bar. Meanwhile, something else.
And everybody lived happily ever after (except for Satan's kid sister, who returned to Hell after eating the cupcake and the baloney sandwich, which was OK by them so long as it got them out of this stupid story.)
I think the next thing I'm supposed to do is give this case of clap to somebody else. I could, but I won't. I'll be damned if I'll give someone else the opportunity to do to me what I just did to Sick Bitch. I might be a nasty bastard with no moral sense concerning making fun of folks who binge and purge, but I'm not stupid.
And, like it needs to be said (but some folks will be bound and determined to get all up in my grill because they consider it impossible to get any humor out of an eating disorder) this was REQUESTED by Sick Bitch and I'm sure she has taken it in the good humor with which it was intended.
If not, that's the way the cookie crumbles.
Soon, with more better stuff.