People are weird...

That's a quote from my FB page today on a post I just made. And you're right, Andrea Foreman Pendergraff, people ARE weird.

I love checking the terms people use to find my blog. I get the normal search terms like: Is Mike Rowe married? Mike Rowe gay? Mike Rowe single? Mike Rowe naked? I'm still waiting for someone to search for "Is Mike Rowe having a torrid affair with that girl from Snarkfest?" but that hasn't happened yet.

Yet.

Anyway, getting back to search terms, people are, indeed, weird. I wrote a post 2 years ago and the prompt was something about waking up as a member of the opposite sex. My post started out with me waking up and scratching my balls. Now I get people everyday finding my blog by searching "balls". Yes, weird.

Speaking of weird, I love reading weird stories on the whacknet. I found this story out of Florida where a prosecutor posted his thoughts on crack ho's (hoes? What IS the plural of crack ho?) and Supreme Court Justices. Can I just tell you that I thought people who went to law school were 'apposed to be smart? This guy? Not so much. Prepare to be astonished at what they let graduate from law school. Here are his 2 quotes, taken from his Facebook page, which he THOUGHT would be private. Here's a tip, counselor, NOTHING you put on the whacknet is private. NO-THING.

Quote 1:  "Happy Mother's Day to all the crack hoes out there. It' never too late to turn it around, tie your tubes, clean up your life, and make difference to someone out there that deserves a better mother."

Quote 2: (this one regarding Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor) "Reason enough why no country should ever engage in the practice of Affirmative Action again. This could be the result. Where would she be if she didn't hit the quota lottery? Here's a hint: 'Would you like to supersize that sir'?"

I do realize that everyone is entitled to his/her own opinion, even assbags. But if you're a prosecutor, someone in an authoritative position in the legal system, aren't you supposed to know better than to post stuff like that on the net? Stupid weirdos.

I'm going to leave you with this bit of weirdness to get you started on your long holiday weekend. Has God ever told you to steal a skateboard? Apparently, God had a sit down with this guy in California and told him that these kids were apparently in danger and it would be a good idea to steal one of their skateboards and try to run away with it. Sure, happens to me all the time.  I see a woman walking down the street with an eclair, and God says "Snarky, beat her with your shoe and take the pastry!" Who am I to say no to God? For God's sake, he's God!


Anyway this guy was a 2nd grade teacher. Read that sentence again. A 2nd grade teacher pushed a kid, stole his skateboard and then said God told him to do it. Is there any wonder why I fear for the future?? Because people are weird.

Things I will never understand, part 46

Ya know, just when you THINK you've heard it all, a man goes and cuts off his testicles with scissors on his wedding day. Seriously. There are some things you just CAN NOT make up. This is one of those things. This is something that should be reported on Dumbass News. Because clearly, this guy is a dumbass. And it made news. Read about it here, then explain somethings to me. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Twigs and berries courtesy of monkeemama.com

Now that you've read it, WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS HE THINKING????  Here's a brief synopsis for those of you who didn't take the time to read it (lazy butts).

A. An hour before he is scheduled to say 'I do' to his lovely fiance, he whacks off is own nuts
2. Early wedding-goers had the pleasure of seeing said bloody nuts on the floor of the church
B. The eunich was sent for a psychiatric eval (ya think??) after a trip to the ER
Lastly, NOBODY TOLD THE BRIDE UNTIL AFTER THE WEDDING (which DID actually take place that day!)

Holy flipping cheeseburgers, Batman, can you imagine the surprise this bride got at that wedding and then later on her wedding night????  I'm picturing that it went something like this:

Bride: Honey, come out and dance with me, it's our wedding song.
No Nuts: Nah love, gonna sit this one out. Little chaffed. Got the chub rub.
Bride: ??

Skip to the wedding night in the bridal suite:

Bride: Um, dude, what the hell happened? Where are your balls? Where the hell are your balls??? You had balls yesterday, hell you've had balls for as long as I've known you, and now? NO balls! What's up with that?
Nutless Wonder: Oh, yeah, hey, funny story............

How do you explain to your new wife that you CUT OFF YOUR OWN SAC??? Correct me if I'm wrong, and maybe it's just me, but if my soon-to-be-hubby was fruit-loopy enough to take a pair of scissors and cut off his own stones, I do think I'd want to know about it BEFORE I MARRIED HIM!!! But no, no one told her. According to the article, the bride WASN'T informed about why the wedding was delayed until AFTER the nuptuals took place. For real?? What the hell?? Didn't anyone stop for a minute and think: "Gee, I wonder if she plans on having some sex on her wedding night? Cuz sex with a man who just gashed his gonads might be a little tricky." I can't even imagine how furious I would be if this had happened to me. Seriously, girlfriend deserves to know she's marrying a total nutjob (sorry for the pun).

Maybe the groom was afraid that if he kept his junk, he'd end up like this guy, who, for all intents and purposes, raped a Land Rover. I wish I could make this stuff up.

***UPDATED FOR CLARIFICATION: Ok, my bad, sorry. It wasn't the actual GROOM who did the cutting off of the stuff. It was an unnamed man. Still doesn't change the fact that some whackjob cut off his own jewels, just that he delayed some poor couple's wedding while they cleaned his junk off the floor. My apologies to the groom. I'm sure he and Mrs. Groom had a lovely wedding and a lovely wedding night. With sex.

I've Got Balls!

This week, the folks at Blogger Idol are once again offering the Blogger Idol Week 2 Play-at-Home Link Up. Remember last week, the topic was Family or Holiday Traditions? Well, this week's offering has a little bit of a twist. This week, we are to write about a day in the life.......of the opposite sex. So let's pretend that I woke up with balls this morning. And a penis. This is a day in the life of me, as a man.

Oh my God, I've got balls. I don't know exactly how it happened, but damn if I don't have balls. TWO of them!! NOW I get what all the fuss is about. I can't juggle them, I can't swat them with a club, a bat or a racquet, but I can touch them. As a matter of fact, I'm touching them right now! You know why? BECAUSE I CAN.

Along with the balls comes the penis. Yup, got one of those as well. It's not too big and it's not too small. It's just right, and it's mine. I can get out of bed and start walking towards the bathroom, pull my underwear down, step out of them and leave them lying right there on the floor. Why? Because I've got balls, and that's what we men who have balls do. Naturally, I go in and pee standing up, because that's what we men with balls do too. I check my hairy face in the mirror and think, damn, I'd make an ugly chick but boy, these balls and this facial hair really make me look hot. Girls dig facial hair. So I say screw shaving. This is my day, and nothing was mentioned in the rules that it has to be MY actual life, so for this one day in the life, I'm a dude, with junk, and I'm on my own.

So I'm heading downstairs where my dogs are and they greet me with tails wagging and drool flying. After letting them out, making myself some coffee and letting them back in, I'm going to feed them. Just me and my boys. My boys are fixed, and at this moment in time, I've got more junk than they do. I am the manliest man in all the land! Or at least in my house. They happily chow down on their Dog Chow while I make a manly omelet. Men love omelets and mine has all the meat I could find in the fridge. Ham. Okay maybe it's not the manliest omelet on the planet but it's mine.

I wash my omelet down with a beer. Why? Because I'm a man and that's my right. And because I've finished my coffee and am out of juice. And where do you think I'm leaving my dirty dishes? Damn right, in my sink! I'm so full of testosterone I could wrestle a bear so why in hell would I want to wash a damn dish?

No, what I'm doing is watching football all day. Just me, my boys, my balls and my TV remote. We sit on the couch, them eating Milk Bones and me drinking beer with one hand and fondling my junk in the other. I just want to make sure they're still there. My phone rings around 3:00 in the afternoon and it's a chick. Apparently I was supposed to call her back after I had a date with her. I didn't. I'm a guy, it's a guy thing. I'm just not that into her, but she offers to bring over a pizza so I say sure. Knock yourself out, Susan, er, Sarah, er sorry, Sally. Whatever. Just bring the pizza.

An hour later, the doorbell rings and rouses me from a nap. The dogs look lazily at me from their Milk Bone-induced comas and since they're not making a move to answer the door, it's up to me. I grab a pair of shorts from the living room floor, because that's where I keep my shorts. I do a quick sniff test, find them passable and put them on to answer the door. I'm a dude but I'm not a caveman, give me some credit. I open the door and there is Sus...Sara...Sal... there she is with pizza in one hand and a six pack in the other. Why didn't I like this chick?

We enjoy the rest of the first game and flip over to watch the next game. Turns out she likes one team, I like the other. Awesome. I've been looking for a way to get rid of her anyway, and if she doesn't like my team, I'm pretty much finished with her. What better way to get rid of a clingy chick then to prove just how awesome a man I am? I start farting and blame the dogs. Once the beer is gone, the pizza is eaten and the dogs have gone outside (because man do their asses stink!) I sit there watching her team demolish mine. I ask her to pull my finger and she leaves. What? What'd I do? It was a joke. Chicks just don't dig fart jokes.

Once all the football games are over, my dogs are sleepy and I've got a tired buzz going on. I take off my shorts and leave them, naturally, on the living room floor. I schlepp up the stairs to my bedroom, pee standing up one last time and head to bed. As I drift off to sleep, you know exactly where my hand is. Who knows if I will wake up in the morning with junk, so I need to enjoy it while I've got it.