I won't tolerate an idle man!

I don't know what it is about the sight of a man doing nothing that just makes my blood boil! I know Phil works hard, and I respect that. But that don't mean he's gotta sit on ass and watch football every Sunday when I've got other things in mind that he could be doing. Of course I realize that Phil needs to relax sometimes. That's what sleep is for!

But in the waking hours he should want to spend every moment helping make a better life for me and my kids. I've tried dropping hints about how the kids' rooms are a mess, the garage is full of my ex-husbands former belongings, and my bathroom is in need of a good cleaning. Plus the wedding is coming up, and Phil hasn't even started going through my address book to send invitations to my friends.

I guess he doesn't get the fact that our life together started the minute he proposed. He seems to think that just because we're not living together yet he can still spend hours at his own house, doing his own thing. He already knows that as soon as he buys our new house I'm going to rent out my townhouse, but he hasn't even bothered to post it on Craigslist for me!

I can't wait until we're living in a nice planned development, and I've got Phil under my thumb where he belongs. All doubt will be removed because I'll be able to plan his day for him, and adjust the schedule thoughout the day. He won't have to worry about pissing me off any more, because I'll make sure that he's always doing the right thing. Then we'll both be happy!

America must return to greatness!

It's time, folks. It's time to roll up our sleeves, slip on our stretchy "USA" sweat wristbands, and get back to work on this little project we call America! It's time to clean all that dog snot off our cars' rear passenger windows. Define telemarketing as a form of terrorism. And lock the kids out of the house for the entire summer (If those brats get thirsty they can drink from the hose!).

We gotta take bold steps, like turn our backs on creamed corn, and anything equally as yucky. Rename "French fries" as "Early stroke fries". Legalize THC to maximize our paranoia level. Wear a thong to church to be closer to God. And deliberately mess with Texas, after having been repeatedly warned.

It's time to develop a genre of gay rap music. Help the homeless, or admit that we can't, and execute them. Win the race to develop the world's first scabies-proof mattress. Boycott unentertaining telethons right out of existence. And outfit our soldiers with huge, intimidating scissor hands!

As one people, with one common goal, we must yank the tick of inequality from Lady Liberty's greasy, matted fur. Disassemble all the SUVs, and turn them into gas/electric mopeds. Make poolside horse-play a felony. Capture Bill O'Reilly alive, and seal him inside of an unventilated see-through coffin.

Then we're gonna have a Pabst. And it's gonna be good.

Some guys can't take a compliment!

Our office has been really backed up on new invoices lately, so they gave me the opportunity to hire a temp. After sending us a couple of losers, the agency finally sent me someone I thought I could work with. He's a nice young married man, 22 years old, and in fantastic shape. Yes, I'm engaged right now, but that don't mean that I can't look. I ain't dead yet, folks!

He's a shy kid, so I've tried to make him feel comfortable by just being myself. I figured a few dirty jokes would break him out of his shyness. Then I tried boosting his confidence a bit more by patting him on the back or caressing his neck when he does a good job. I even told him that I thought he had a cute butt! Yet after all this he's just as shy as ever!

Then I thought I could get him out of his box by teasing him a little. I asked him about what kinds of things he liked to do to his wife. He told me that his wife was pregnant, and I offered a fun response about how pregnancy could have been avoided. I also left a silly photoshop on his desk of he and I having dirty sex, but he just threw it away without even saying anything!

Well I don't know what it is about him, but the more he avoids me, the more I think I like him! I've even resorted to some straight forward flirting! Yesterday, when he came into the lounge for his morning break, I was already in there, stirring his yogurt cup with my finger. Just as he realized what I was doing I pulled my finger out, put it in my mouth, and sucked the yogurt off. I've never seen a man blush so red!

Apparently that was it for him. He went to my director and told her that he didn't appreciate my behavior. The director and I have actually made friends over the last few months, so she wasn't hearing it. She told him she'd talk to me, and to go back to his desk. Then she called me in and told me to fire him if he's a problem. Since he's a temp it's no problem sending him away. Maybe I'll be generous and offer him an opportunity to save his job.

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The 25 worst drinks to get drunk on!

1.Creme de Buddy Hackett's leg pits
2.Piss warm cans of Milwaukee's Best
3.Goat's milk margarita
4.Last-sip-of-everyone-else's-beer sangria
5.Bloody marys at a vampire cult party
6.Steven Hawkin's wheelchair cushion rum
7.Used Bud Ice out a latrine
8.Rotten Cheese & Old Wood European Lager
9.Johnny Walker: guy-with-a-plate-in-his-head formula
10.Chemical toilet schnapps
11.Kahlúa on ice cubes made of viscous standing water
12.Mike's Heartburn Lemonade
13.Liquid propane martini
14.Rupaul's Own ready-to-drink mudslide mix
15.Hot Everclear & grenadine from a sports bottle
16.Viagra & Bacardi mixers at the old folks home
17.Irish cream out of a dirty cowboy boot
18.Orange Shasta and nail polish remover
19.Black & Tan & DNA evidence
20.Sally Jesse Raphael's panty wine
21.Bong water colada
22.Refreshing blue mouthwash cocktails
23.Aristocrat vodka colonic
24.Chunky curdled buttermilk shooters
25.Hugh Hefner's diaper contents, on the rocks

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