Hardcore resolutions!

One of the best things about this country is our spirit of self-improvement. Any one of us can up and change ourselves for the better, because we enjoy the freedom to recreate ourselves whenever we choose. I've realized lately that even I could be a better person. So this year I'm making some resolutions, and taking them seriously!

For one thing, I gonna stop wasting time in the kitchen, and start taking advantage of the affordability of greasy fast food. My kids love it, and so do I, because it gives them a nice shiny coat. I'm also going to scrub all of those stubborn stains off the inside of the tub so my new baby will have somewhere clean to bathe and play while I'm out drinking or getting browned at the tanning salon.

I'm going to call Mother more than once or twice per year. I'm going to make exceptionally good use of my new Christmas bong. I'm going to stop balking at offers made to me by telemarketers. I'm going to take the time to test the reliability of my many homemade weapons. And I'll remove all the stray socks and candy wrappers from behind the furniture.

I plan to exercise at least once in the next twelve months. I'm going to make millions by placing tiny classified ads. I'm going to give an innocent stranger the middle finger at least once per day. And I'll do my best to eat a vegetable every week. I'll make the kids wear their seatbelts, and I'll no longer harass my coworkers by eating beef jerky in an erotic way

I could certainly improve my driving. I'll slow down and pretend that I'm not going anyplace in particular. I'll stop using my turn signals, and focus on taking slower, more deliberate turns off of busy roads. I'm going to set up a Netflix account so we'll have better DVDs to watch in the van. I'm also going to stop wasting my money on frivolous car insurance

I'm going to start being nicer to fat people and gay people, and in exchange I'll be a little bit meaner towards fat gay people. I'm going to do a better job of learning from my horoscopes. I'm going to give that electric bread maker another a try. And one day this year I'll go down to the soup kitchen and serve up a hearty stew made from every old pillow in the house. I'm getting one of my teeth capped in gold. And I'm gonna get laid more often by less people.

All my exes live in Richmond!

If you've ever lived in Richmond then you know what a small town it can be. You can barely leave the damn house without running into past acquaintances, former coworkers, and of course, romantic exes. It's always awkward when you have to greet someone you haven't seen in a long time, but more especially when it's someone you've dated!

I'm quite popular with the fellas, so I'm always seeing old lovers out and about. If he's alone I'll usually either ignore him or give him a disinterested nod. But if he happens to be with a woman, it's different. For some reason I've just got to make the situation unbearable for all concerned!

I start out with a hello, and wait for an introduction to his companion. Then, as I shake her hand weakly, I look her over from her shoes all the way to her face. By the time we make eye contact I've got a nostril raised in disgust. Then I start ignoring the woman completely. I ask my ex how his mother or house pet is doing. Then I gaze longingly as he's answering the question.

Sometimes I'll flirt in an obvious manner to make his new girlfriend or wife feel threatened and uncomfortable. Other times I'll emasculate him by implying jokingly that he's a lousy lover, or incapable of taking care of himself or anyone else. If the mood is right I'll suggest that one of my kids might be his. It's also fun to coyly request his new cell phone number!

The best things to say are the things they don't expect. I'll say that I've been looking all over for him because he might have an STD. I'll subtly hint that he still owes me money for an old used car, or a long forgotten abortion. Then I start groping myself and talking about how much I miss him! It's about that time that he will politely end the conversation and walk away in a hurry, and I know that my work is done.

Super secret Santa!

I've been settling in nicely at my new job. I'm getting to know everyone, and while we've all been getting along well enough, I've noticed how clueless some of them seem to be about their shortcomings. That's why I decided to play Santa this year, and give everyone a little something special!

I was somehow able to pick out most of their gifts while browsing through Big Lots, which was nice, because these gifts were about thought rather than price. I started by grabbing a package of control top pantyhose for Susan, our secretary, because she has a gut that just won't quit. Then I bought a box of Biore pore strips for the HR lady, Helen, who has a mess of really thick blackheads all over her T-zone.

I picked up a bottle of Febreze for Amy, our accounts receivable girl, because she always smells like a trailer home full of unwashed Mastiffs. And I went with a large pack of generic Dexatrim for Trisha, the accounts manager, because it would be nice if she finally got thin so she could get past her obvious eating disorder once and for all!

Tooth whitener was the obvious choice for Darryl, the only male in our office (and the only one of us with a mouth full of rotting teeth!). Then there's Bonnie, one of my file clerks. She's always getting called into the school because of her shitty little troublemaker son, so I got her The Complete Idiot's Guide to Raising Boys.

My other file clerk, Leah, always has her frizzy hair balled up like a rat's nest, so I got her a bottle of leave-in conditioner. I had a hard time thinking of something nice for Simone, who handles our outgoing mail. I decided on a pack of moist toilet wipes, because she always leaves the bathroom smelling like diarrhea.

It was important to me to make this a surprise! So yesterday, when nobody was working, I came in and left gift bags on everybody's desk. I even left a bag with a new hairbrush in it on my own desk so nobody would think it was me who left all those presents! Unfortunately I took this week off, so I wasn't able to see the look on everyone's faces when they open their gifts!

Quick hints for a happy Holiday!

A few simple tips for a joyous Christmas season!

Fun Christmastime activities:

- Sit on your roof and shoot at flying objects
- Fill the kids' Christmas stockings with runny ricotta cheese
- Instead of a tree, display your gifts under a hanging, gutted deer
- Slam on the breaks when your car starts to skid on ice
- Spread your flu germs all over the office potluck
- Make love to a snowman until the frostbite becomes unbearable
- Slap your Uncle on the tits for playing the Chipmunks Christmas album
- Eat the candy you found in the toe of last year's Christmas stocking


Christmas gifts that will go unappreciated:

- Vintage white underwear with a crusty old elastic waistband
- The head of a beloved pet, stuffed and mounted
- Fannypack full of used up phone cards
- Two big mean baboons
- Repulsive Christmas themed lingerie for men
- Voucher for a week at the Camp for Fat Kids
- An oblong personal massager from Grandpa
- Hunting cap with big fake antlers stuck on it
- Used "Juggs" magazine and a bottle of corn husker's lotion


Holiday safety warnings:
- Beware of ugly chicks with mistletoe on their hats
- Drunk Driving is safer if you've got a plow on your truck
- That fake spray-on snow is settling in your lungs right now
- Egg nog, rum balls, and loose women can be a dangerous combination
- Use a stun-gun to help break through those crowds at the Mall
- Top-heavy women should avoid the use of Sno-tubes
- If an elf starts humping your leg you should just let it finish
- Be careful to give no more than you receive
- Don't be fooled by the big lie: most snowflakes are exactly the same


More jolly ideas from Jocelyn's Corner:

Spreading your holiday cheer!

Christmas shopping made easy!

There's nothing like free drinks!

I had a good ol' time at a bar last night! I'd never been there before (and will probably never go again), so I felt comfortable with being myself and letting loose! The regulars seemed impressed with the way I was pounding drinks through the entire happy hour. I was so busy chugging that had to let my cigarettes just smolder away in the ash tray!

Just before happy hour ended a few British ex-patriots showed up and bought me a pint. You really can't have a better time at a bar than when British people are in the house! By the time we were done singing and telling jokes I was half in the bag! But they soon left without saying goodbye. I guess they'd never seen a pregnant woman dancing on a pinball machine before!

I normally don't order food at a bar, but the baby started kicking, so I decided to slow him down with a double order of greasy onion rings! When I was done scarfing those down I made it over to the games area, where I beat a sweetheart ex-convict in a game of billiards. Easiest $50 I'd made all day. I managed to mess up his shots by showing off my assets from across the table. Real men just can't help but be distracted by my lovely lady lumps!

After he left I ordered myself a Bud Lite, along with a round of Bushmills shots for everyone at the bar. Once those were gone things really stared dying down, and I began thinking about heading home. I had been building a rapport with the bartender all night. I told him that I needed some smokes, but I only smoked Parliments, which they don't sell there. Then I told him (as I headed to the door) to pour me another beer, and that I'd be right back from the mini-mart next door.

As he may have suspected, I had no plans to return. I simply drove off without ever paying my tab. I've gotta say that of all the things that drinking inspires me to do, stealing from idiots is by far my favorite! On my way home I smoked a fat bowl of dank weed, and laughed about how stupid and trusting that bartender had been!

Spreading your holiday cheer!

I like to get in the Christmas spirit as early as possible. With my shopping done, and my Christmas plans made, I can focus on all the good things that make the season bright! Real Christmas spirit requires some effort. You can't just dance foolishly in a skin tight outfit of bright red felt and expect the spirit to fall into your lap!

Decoration is a nice way to start. I set up a fake snowman on our porch with garbage bags of used disposable diapers. Then I make the front door more welcoming by hanging a festive wreath of dog skulls. I also like to place a dish on the bathroom counter filled with holiday-themed novelty condoms that I buy from the truck stop restroom. And I decorate myself by wearing a colorful designer scarf, like some kind of Euro-trash.

Another time honored way to get in the Christmas spirit is to do a few nice things for others. I've delighted hundreds of neighborhood rodents by leaving loaves of candied-mealworm fruitcake all around the yard. I'm also planning to dress Muffin, our Rottie, in a traditional reindeer costume and bring him downtown late at night to greet homeless people. And next week, when my neighbors go out of town, I plan to donate all their belongings to the Salvation Army.

There are even a few little personal things we can do for just for ourselves that can make us feel festive. So tell your kids a story about the time Santa stepped on a kitten. Use a stick of Hickory Farms beef as underarm deodorant. Put on a Santa suit and get your fat ass lodged inside your own chimney. Try to break open some Brazil nuts with your fingernails. Or just head to the mall and give Santa a wet soapy lap dance in front of all the kids.

Of course the holidays come with their own stresses, so be sure to blow off steam when necessary. The best way to do this is by punishing the naughty. Maybe bludgeon that bitchy clerk at the Kmart returns counter with a giant Hershey's Kiss. Strangle a drunk with a lovely strand of garland. Go "Boston Tea Party" on that cookie store in the mall. Or use your crab ridden genitals to make manly love to all the Christmas stockings at Wal-mart.

Representin' with Critical Mass!

I usually avoid exercise in all it's forms, but I've gotta admit that I have the best time participating in something they call Critical Mass! A Critical Mass is what happens when folks get together to ride bicycles through a city in large groups. Everyone rides side-by-side to take up the whole road and create a fun-filled nuisance! Obnoxious bicyclists really piss me off when I'm driving , so it's just nice to turn the tables and be the annoying bicyclist for a change!

It was by pure chance that I even discovered this group. I was driving the van home from a bar one weekend afternoon, and I decided to cut through some weird neighborhood to avoid passing any cops. I saw a group of young people on bicycles with flags and stuff, all laughing and riding around together. Something inside me made me want to get out and join them!

By coincidence I had a 3-wheeled bicycle in the back of my van that I'd stolen the week before (from some moron who parked it in front of a halfway home). It worked out so well that I now bring it with me every time! It's got a nice big basket behind the seat that I can use to carry snacks and blunt objects. The extra wheel also provides stability, so I can play an active roll in all the shenanigans!

What I like is how Critical Mass is made up of all kinds, and how it changes a little every time. Of course you always get those dudes who dress like bike messengers because their whole identity is wrapped up in fixed-gear bikes. And you're sure to see a few smelly VCU Fan rats who show up way too sober to be riding an old pink banana seat bike. But these events also attract plenty of real people like me, who hold down steady jobs, pay mortgages, and raise kids (when I'm not raising Hell!).

The whole thing is really just your typical sort of protest, in that everyone participates as a statement for their own specific agenda. This spirit makes it all the more exciting because anything can happen! You never know if the guy next to you is going to wave a homemade flag, sing a song, or throw a Snapple bottle full of piss through the back window of a parked SUV! And due to the disorganization and lack of specific route for the rides, we tend to avoid any advanced scrutiny by authorities!

So about once per month I drive out to join the Critical Mass, and do my part to aggravate automobile drivers. A few of these drivers think it's cute at first, but sooner or later they get angry because they actually have someplace to go. Some honk, or yell. Some swerve back and forth a little to intimidate us. If they specifically tell us to get out of the road we scream, "We're traffic too!", or, "Eat shit!".

We know we've succeeded when the drivers start getting aggressive. That's when a couple of us drag them out of their cars and beat them with a bike lock right in front of their kids. A few people in the group pretend that they don't want us to beat those people up, which just shows you how silly these kids can be! Occasionally I'll find myself cramping up and gasping for breath because I'm punching and laughing so hard!

Christmas shopping made easy!

The way most people do their Christmas shopping just makes me sick. Waiting in stupid long lines for Black Friday specials. Putting tons of new debt on their credit cards. Wasting their hard earned money on gobs of overpriced crap that none of them even need. It's depressing, and it's senseless. This season should be about having fun, and not about spending a lot of money!

You won't find me at those Black Friday sales until just after the stores open. I park my van in a handicapped accessible spot, and watch those first few lucky customers come striding out, smiling over the purchase of a few limited supply items. I follow them from that parking lot to wherever they shop next. Most of them head to the mall. Then, once they've gone inside, I perform a quick smash and grab out of their parked car. Nothing could be easier! Phil is really going to love his new 36" HD television!

Another fun way to stock up on holiday fun is to steal packages from people's doorsteps. I bought the cutest little UPS girl outfit a few Halloweens ago, and it's becoming an indispensable part of my holiday routine. Nobody even notices me when I'm out on my lunch break, hitting up front stoops of houses for a "pick-up". It's nice when the companies put their logos on the shipping boxes so you know what you're getting. I hope my three year old enjoys her new laptop computer!

There's also the option of charitable sources, like Toys for Tots. I apply to those programs with falsified information so my kids can get a few extra gifts out of it. You should see the look on those volunteers faces when they have to deliver that stuff to our well furnished townhouse! But this method doesn't allow you to select what types of toys they bring. So go out earlier in the month and rummage around in their donation bins at the front of stores, and in office buildings. That kid-sized robotic dinosaur I snagged is going to knock little Brandon's socks off!

My final technique is a no-brainer. Folks are always looking for babysitters this time of year. All you need to do is post a few signs up on bulletin boards. Once the baby is asleep you can snag a few items from under their tree and move it out to your trunk before they get home. If you can find extra wrapping paper around you can always empty the boxes and rewrap them. This way you won't arouse any suspicion. My daughter is going to be so excited when she opens up the sassy new Dallas Cowboys jacket I took for her, and all the baby toys I swiped will be perfect for welcoming her unborn baby!

How I got my first job!

It's fun to think back to those awkward days when I was just a brace-faced teenager. We all remember the excitement of getting our first job, and the thrilling prospects of making our own money. Unfortunately, I didn't get the first job I applied for. But going after it gave me my very first opportunity to stand up to tyranny!

I was intially full of confidence, because three of the other girls from my high school bowling team had already been hired at this one bar & grill. The owner, who resembled John Leguizamo's character from the movie Spawn, was notorious for only hiring cute teenage girls for the waitress positions. So I put on my demure little prairie girl dress and skipped on in there to see if I could seduce him out of a part-time position!

I walked in, found the man, and didn't get two sentences into my spiel before he took me aside and explained that I wasn't even fit to charm the customers who showed up on "all-you-can-eat pickled egg night". He also said that my wolfy looking legs didn't help, and neither did the dark red hair above my lip. As he escorted me to the front door, he told me to maybe come back in a couple years when I'd, "stopped dressing like an Amish retard".

So my first teenage job was to send this motherfucker's life crashing down all around him! Over the course of the next month I called his wife anonymously, every three days, to coyly insinuate that there was something about her husband that she didn't know. His pale, chubby daughter happened to be a freshman at my high school, so I spread a rumor about her having Hepatitis C. The nickname "Hepatitis Girl" managed to follow her all the way through community college!

The final phase of my retribution was a master stroke! That Boss "Hogg" bastard drove an immaculate white Cadillac, with pristine all-white leather interior. One night I took the metal bucket full of cigarette butts and chewing tobacco spit that the kitchen staff kept by the back door of the restaurant, and I set it up in the back seat of his car. As he drove himself home that night the bucket rocked back and forth, until it eventually tipped over and dumped it's payload all over the seats!

Finally, towards the middle of the summer, I secured my first paying job. My uncle managed the service garage for one of the major dealerships in town, and he hired me on. It was a sweet job, flirting with the greasy mechanics, and accepting payments from customers for the Service and Parts department. It was also hilarious, because we would rip the customers off big time! Some customers would bitch, some would cry, and some would just quietly pay while secretly fighing back a world of rage! I can't say that I blamed them. $70 to glue a rear view mirror back on is some bullshit!

25 Rejected Underwear Prototypes!

The company I just quit from is in the business of testing new products before they go to market. My office managed the billing of their various corporate clients, which gave me access to all of the testing data.

Here are the 25 worst underwear prototypes we've ever tested:

1.Scabbies for Women
2.The Pink Panther Fiberglass Filled Codpiece
3.BVD Chewables
4.Pledge Lemon-Scented Nut Sling
5.Mr. Crotch
6.Richard Simmons's Technicolor Dreamstraps
7.Wedgemasters
8.Chiggers & Co.
9.The Bovine Collection from Dress Barn
10.Señor Pelvis's Pants Piñatas
11.Saran Wrap Disposable Skidmark Singles
12.Hot Pockets Pepperoni & Cheese Casuals
13.Wilford Brimley's Huskyboy Underoos
14.Smucker's Stainproof Raspberry Briefs
15.Bounty Paper Skivvies
16.Charlie Sheen Signature Series Crotchless Thongs for Women
17.Wetnap Premoistened Boxers
18.Columbian Mule Brand, with comfy contraband smuggling design
19.Pope Benny's "Touchably-Soft" for boys
20.Jello Jockstrap Jigglers
21.Ron Jeremy Ball Hair Control Jockeys with Baking Soda
22.Depends "Waterloggers", The Swim Pants for Seniors!
23.Frito's Chili & Cheese Dippin' Drawers
24.Brillo Steel Wool G-String
25."Lock-ups" Prison Bitch Training Pants

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Missing: One tooth!

As some of you may have noticed, I live a hardcore punk rock lifestyle. I go my own way. I don't limit myself based on accepted social norms, or bend to the will of so-called authority figures. The best thing about being punk as fuck is making personal choices that will disturb all the squares. That is why I'm not replacing this tooth!

I vividly remember the night that I lost it. I was at some dumpy "all ages" club watching a local rock band. Almost the entire crowd was 15-year-olds, a few parents, and me. The kids didn't want to get too close to the stage, so I hopped into the semi-circle gap between the crowd and the stage. I must have been pretty boozy, 'cause I was whipping my hair to the music and slam-dancing with the front row.

This went on for several minutes until the bouncer grabbed my arm, dragged me outside, and assured me that nobody in there wanted to mosh. Dejected, I stumbled my way towards a few other clubs. A group of crusty squatter punks called me over to the doorway they were sitting in. They told me they were travelling and looking for a place to party. I thought they were pretty cool so I took them to one of my old lover's apartments. I still had a key, and knew that he'd be out for the night tending bar.

After an hour of emptying the fridge, drinking his vodka, and messing up the place, me and the one dude with liberty spikes decided to head out for some cigarettes. The streets were empty, and we were loud! Somehow I ended up on the roof of a parked car, using my right heel to kick out the windshield. That's when I slipped and fell face-first onto the curb. When I got up my new friend was gone and so was my front tooth!

While waiting a week for my dental appointment, I started noticing how people were treating me differently. Strangers stopped trying to argue with me. Employees of businesses I frequent just gave me whatever I asked for. They clearly didn't want to have to deal with me for any length of time. I couldn't believe how much character had been added to my otherwise average-looking face!

I must have also become more approachable, because I started meeting more guys, and fewer of them were bothered by the fact that I was married. After thinking long and hard I went ahead and had the dentist check out the condition of my teeth and gums. He was surprised when I told him that I didn't want to replace the tooth I'd lost. Why I should bother with a partial? The new look has been working out fine!

A Thanksgiving that doesn't suck!

Thanksgiving this year is going to be great, because I won't have to spend it with my ex-husband Kevin's stupid family. Those jerkoffs don't have a clue of how to do it up right. They always serve too many fancy appetizers, so everybody fills up before the meal even starts. Then they like to watch those parades on TV, which is nothing but a bunch of inflatable characters that are so old that none of the kids even recognize them.

The food they serve is what bothers me most. His idiot mother's turkey is as dry as a popcorn fart. The cranberry sauce doesn't have enough sugar, and the sweet potatoes don't even have marshmallows on top! His decrepit Grandmother insists on making that old fashioned guts n' onion stuffing that everybody hates. They serve cheap dinner rolls that don't soak up gravy worth a damn. And to add insult to injury, they have the nerve to make my children sit at the dehumanizing "kid's table"!

Come to think of it, everything about their house was terrible for Thanksgiving! It's bad enough that they've got the nasty pink padded toilet seat, but how am I supposed to work with single-ply toilet paper after the biggest dump of my life? Of course after dinner these assholes watch football games non-stop. I got so bored one year that I ended up drinking too much red wine and dancing topless with his fat aunt.

Then they've got all these goddamn little kids running around while I'm trying to take a turkey nap. That's just as well, since the living room couches are too short to lay on, and of course the recliner doesn't go all the way back. So the only option is the upstairs guest room, which is a bitch to get to when you're so full that you can't even walk erect. After relaxing for a while they drag everybody to the theater to take in the worst movie available.

So this year I'm happy to be keeping it to my immediate family. Luckily, Mother is stuck in that nursing home, so I don't need to worry about her inviting all our gnarly relatives from out of town to show up here and expect me to put them up for the week. (One thing I promised myself early on was that I'd never let smelly relatives take over my kid's rooms during holidays like my parents used to do to us.) None of my worthless relatives get along that well anyway, so good riddance!

I've got the food bank coming today with a nice Thanksgiving care package, which is really a time saver for me more than anything else. We can afford way better, but why turn down free food, am I right? Then Phil is taking us to the dump where we're going to hunt rodents with his paint ball guns! You know what they say! "The family that preys together, stays together"! Finally, we'll settle in on the couch to watch The Shining. I hope my three year old loves it as much as I did when I was her age!

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Pregnancy loves company!

I'm just over 7 months pregnant now. It's insufferable. I'm having a difficult time finding new guys who want to get with me, and nobody wants to sell me any drugs, which I need because I'm moody as hell. That makes me even angrier! I really need to get high sometimes. I can't risk messing up my new job by losing my temper. Hell, I can't even relax when I'm supposed to!

Like on Saturday. I was out at the club, gettin' my drink on and dancing a little. It had been a pretty weak night, until I caught the attention of a half dozen Mexican construction workers. They started talking about trying to bring me back to their motel room. Suddenly this rat-faced little bitch stomps over and gets right in my face, saying she was with them and that they had no interest in me anyway.

Normally I'm too smart to get violent. But you know I can't have no smelly, pockmarked slut pointing in my face and blowin' up my spot! As if her insults weren't enough, her stank breath just about turned my stomach. I walked off, took a seat across the bar, and began to bide my time. I continued to keep an eye on her without raising suspicion.

After about an hour I saw her heading towards the ladies room. I followed. I entered quietly and listened. She sounded like a cow pissing on a flat rock. Then she flushed, opened the stall door, and met with one powerful burst of orange dyed mace from the can that I keep in my purse! As she screamed and reached for her eyes, I smacked her in the nose as hard as I could. Then I turned, kicked open the bathroom door, and moved casually towards the exit.

My hand was burning all night from that mace, and it'll probably be stained orange for a week! It's a good thing my new job doesn't start until then, or I'd have some explaining to do! It would be nice to tell somebody though, just to vent! All this stress and bullshit does not make for a healthy pregnancy. Life can really pile it on like that sometimes!

So you can probably imagine how delighted I was to hear some good news! My daughter Darla is pregnant now too! Granted she's only 15, but we've got the money to support another child, so what's the harm? In a way I feel I need to help her take responsibility for this baby, because I've given her all kinds of hell for stealing condoms from my bedside drawer. I wanted her to buy her own, and I know how inconvenient that can be. Now she's going to learn how inconvenient a baby can be!

Revenge of the working class!

The word has come down that the company I work for has been bought out, and my branch will most likely be shut down before too long. It's a bit of a coincidence, as I've been applying all over town for a new job these last couple months, and I happen to be sitting on a fresh offer for a higher paying position at a new company just down the road. Even though this is all working out for me, and I could just change jobs and move on quietly, I still feel like I've got a reason to be angry!

When the director of our branch heard about the buyout she just quit outright. That was before the rest of us even found out about it. So considering that I'm the office manager, and that I'm sitting on this new job offer, I figured I'd follow her lead, walk out, and leave my own mark to show the new owners my displeasure. The new company is sending their H.R. person in next week, and I wanted to make certain that she hears about my actions from my coworkers!

Everyone in the office was so worked up about the buyout that they all went out for lunch together to talk about it. I stayed behind. This was my chance to carry out my carefully planned exit. I figured that the most critical move was to walk out without telling anyone how to do those few important things that only I know how to do. Anything else I might do would be gravy!

So the I dug around in an empty desk and found an old system login password from a girl who I recently fired, and used it to log on to our system and deliberately screw up some of our customers' accounts (the only thing that the new owners really care about). Also, I used her corporate email account to send a vicious "up yours!" message to the company-wide email group.

I grabbed a trash bag from the supply closet and started trashing vital items from all around the office. First the 3-hole punch, then all the files in the "N-R" cabinet of our client folders. I also tossed the last two cans of sugar from the coffee station, and the ink cartridges from out of the printers and Xerox machine.

Then I ran out to the car, stashed the garbage bag, and grabbed my duffel bag of secret weapons, including two rats from my son's pet rat cage. I taped them up inside of a paper towel tube and stuffed the tube into the back of the coat closet. Based on my experience, those rats should have eaten their way out of the tube by the evening. Once freed they will undoubtedly make a nest and breed.

I went back to the break room, where I shoved a couple of bagels into our double toaster and pushed the lever down. When that old toaster is stuffed with bagels the little toast ejector thing is unable to pop up, so it doesn't stop toasting until they're completely burned to shit. Then I made my way over to that bitch Sarah's desk. I opened up the base of her computer mouse and stuffed the insides with a hearty fingerful of wet cat food.

Just before leaving for good I completed one final act of defiance by enjoying my last paid defecation in the building's bathroom. Thanks to last night's drinking I worked up a particularly nasty dump, and deliberately refrained from flushing it down. Then, just before exiting the building, I used my office manager key to enter the janitor's closet, surveyed the plumbing valves, and shut off the water flow to the restrooms. Then I locked the closet door behind me so that nobody would be able to flush anything until the janitor was called in to check it out.

It's up to us to save the environment!

It seems like everybody and their bisexual cousin is talking about the environment these days. It has even become a fashionable topic in the worlds of politics, business, and scientific study. Of course a few small-minded folks still think it's okay to sit on ass and wait for greater minds to come up with the solutions. But the rest of us have come to realize that we all need to take positive steps as individuals in order to make a true impact.

Climatologists been warning us since the 1980s about the CFCs that are present in many spray cans. CFCs contribute to greenhouse gases or deteriorating the ozone or something. So when you use things like hair products and spray paint you should try to avoid spraying them directly. Instead you should spray the product into a rag, huff on the rag until the fumes dissipate, and then apply to the intended surface.



Reducing what ends up in landfills is also a major goal of the environmentally conscious. So burn whatever you can rather than throwing it away, especially larger items like mattresses and refrigerators. And never throw out something that you can reuse. I always keep a pile of old batteries and dead lighters in my purse that I can throw at strangers who annoy me, like pedestrians who take an unnecessarily long time to cross the street in front of my car.

You're not supposed to put oils and stuff in a landfill either. So when it's time to change your oil just park the car next to a curb that has a storm drain. Remove the drain plug in your car's oil pan, drain the dirty oil into the storm drain, and replace the drain plug. Pour new oil into your engine and you're good to go! Rather than soaking into the ground, that old oil will flow out into nearby waterways, where it will eventually dilute out of existence, or break down into it's basic elements!



I've been committed to these kinds of important measures, and I've even managed to come up with a few techniques of my own. I've put my mind to cutting down on what we use, with a focus on saving money! I've been lowering the totals on our costly water bill by making the kids bathe together, and forcing them to poop in the back yard. I've also found that a condom can be reused if you simply turn it inside out and wipe it off with a dry paper towel.

25 things you shouldn't put in your mouth!

Kids these days are always picking things up and putting them in their mouths. Even the most attentive parents are simply unable to slap every unclean object out their of their children's hands in time. So I've prepared this handy list you can give to your kids so they'll know which items are ineligible for tasting:

1.That filthy ring of keys that Mommy carries around
2.Your bacteria-caked fingernails
3.Stray sock matted into the ground at a 4-way stop
4.Cigarette butts discovered in a rental car ashtray
5.The 3-foot-long tapeworm you just lured out of your ass
6.Orthodontic retainer salvaged from a junkyard
7.Those greenish defective potato chips
8.Broken pager you found on the floor at the movie theater
9.Harmonica clutched in the grubby hand of a dead hobo
10.Mangled condom wrapper that a pigeon was messing with
11.Toe nail clipping that hits you in the face on a city bus
12.Unwrapped Starburst melted onto a car's floor mat
13.Pacifier left behind in the bathroom at a rave
14.Large floppy titty sticking through a hole in the wall
15.Deep fried bird head that turns up in box of chicken nuggets
16.Rented porno cassette slathered in stranger lube
17.Severed goiter from a dumpster full of medical waste
18.Any penny, no matter the circumstances
19.Orange Tic-Tac the cat has been batting around all day
20.One large hoop earring you bought at the thrift store
21.Tommy Lee's loathsome member
22.Half of a peanut stuck to the rim of a public toilet seat
23.Broken crack stem from a Richmond city playground
24.Car wash token retrieved out of a toll booth coin return
25.Crusty, nose blood covered Kleenex from an old coat pocket

Harassment at the movie theater!

My three year old daughter, little Jailen, has been throwing tantrums all week over this Madagascar sequel that they've been advertising the hell out of. So I loaded her and 8 year old Brandon into the van on Saturday afternoon so we could take in a matinee. I packed the rest of their leftover Halloween candy and a gallon jug of cider into my biggest purse.

The kids were thirsty so I let them have some cider on the drive over. The parking lot was a goddamn zoo, as always, but we managed to find a spot near the back. Of course the ticket line was stretched all the way down the edge of the building! By the time we got up to where we could see the board it was obvious that the showing of Madagascar we wanted was sold out, and the next one wasn't for 45 minutes. I decided to take them to see Role Models instead and hope that Jailen didn't notice.

Role Models is R rated, which is fine. But the previews were rated R as well, and there was this one horror movie preview that scared the hell out of all of us. It had a crab walking dead guy and everything. Jailen started screaming and covering up her face with her jacket. Brandon just covered his eyes and sat there petrified. Once it ended they calmed down for me and manged to recover for the most part.

When the feature started I broke out the snacks. I could barely hear the screen over the sound of our candy wrappers because all our treats were "fun size". The kids fought over certain treats, and we passed the cider jug back and forth and everything was pretty swell. We also had a good laugh because Jailen kept tearing her M&M bags open way too hard, sending candies through the air and onto the floor.

For a while things were quiet and the kids didn't seem to notice that we weren't watching Madagascar. But then I learned something I didn't know. Jailen must be allergic to cider or apples, because she really started stinking up the place! I wasn't sure if she'd filled her diaper or what. She also seemed to have slipped into some kind of sugar coma, so I decided to ignore her, because at least she was behaving.

The movie was funny enough, but so damn nasty, with lots of swearing and sex jokes. Brandon kept asking me what they were talking about, and I did my best to explain. It was kind of annoying because I was also trying to hold a text conversation with Phil on my Blackberry. The screen on that thing is so damn bright that every time I looked back up at the movie screen I was seeing spots.

Some guy behind us got annoyed at our chatter, so he leaned forward and asked if we would please shut up and turn off our phone. I turned off the phone as he was talking, and that's when the usher came in. Then the usher left, and soon returned with the manager. He pointed at the guy who had been talking to us. The manager took they guy out to the end of the aisle and told him to be quiet or be removed.

By the time the manager walked out it was almost time for Madagascar to start in the next theater over, so I woke Jailen up and quietly led her and Brandon up the aisle and out to the bathroom. I changed her diaper, then brought them into the Madagascar theater and put them in some seats. Then I went back out, asked for the manager, and told him that the man sitting behind us in Role Models was still talking and acting drunk and needed to be removed. Then I went back to sit with the kids. I've gotta say, Madagascar was really funny, and a lot of fun!

If you don't know, now you know!

I've received a number of nasty comments over the past several months, many of them too rude to print. The one reader misconception of me that I don't understand is the idea that I'm somehow giving poor single mothers a bad name. This makes absolutely no sense to me, mostly because I'm not poor! I probably put away more money in a year than most of you do. The fact is, I enjoy a pretty decent income, and I'm really good with my money!

It's always been my priority to make sure that I've got plenty of cash coming in. My cushy office job pays me over $45,000 a year plus benefits. Then I've got my child support checks, and a welfare check that I receive under my maiden name. Also, back when we were married, Kevin's father died. Kevin was stationed over in Iraq, so he missed the funeral, among other details. He was one of the main beneficiaries, and since I was handling things for him at the time I arranged for the check to be sent to me instead. I just never told him about it!

Now that I've put my mom in the nursing home I've got an additional bill to pay. Of course it's no trouble, because I'm resourceful. I'll be using the proceeds from the sale of her house and her Social Security checks to pay for her stay, with a generous chunk of change left over. Opportunities like this one are reassuring, because I'm gettin' up there myself, and at this stage in my life it's really all about stackin' the Benjamins! But you can't just bring in money and expect everything to work itself out. You've gotta be smart with it!

That's why I also go to great lengths to protect my rights as a consumer, go out of my way to cut down on costs, and even take time to get my kids involved with supplementing my income whenever possible. I realize that these activities might make me seem poor or cheap to some of you, but I don't think there's anything wrong with being frugal. I guess we'll see who's right in our golden years, when I'm enjoying the highest quality assisted living available, and the rest of you are being abused in some cut rate nursing home like the one I put mother in!

Takin' a pot shot!

I'd like to start today's post with a big fat "Thanks for nothing!" to all you jerks for not doing a write-in for Hillary yesterday like we agreed! Now we're stuck with this Obama character. Yeah, maybe his inspiring words remind people all over the world about all the great things that America stands for. But so what? What do I get out of that?

I'm sorry, but I have very little confidence that his plans for redistributing wealth are going to work out as well as the Republicans have promised. And tax breaks only benefit those who actually pay their taxes. So forgive me if I reserve my celebrating for when I receive my first big fat socialist money redistribution check!

Aside from standing in the rain for an hour and a half just to throw my vote away, something else happened yesterday which forced me to take a stand for my rights in a more direct way. Y'all know I don't ask for much, but I do demand a little peace and quiet while I use the toilet. This is my "me" time, where I meditate, and get away from the stupid slags in my office.

There are only two stalls in the restroom I use, which is down in the building's main hallway. There's the handicapped accessible stall (that's the one I like), and there's the one regular stall next to it. In order to maintain my privacy, I usually pull the door shut on the regular stall before going into the other, so it looks like they're both occupied.

Usually this setup works beautifully. But yesterday some bitch came in there in a hurry while I was wiping (and playing Solitaire on my iPod). She checked both stall doors, pulled the second door free, and made her way inside and onto the seat. Not only was I aggravated by having my privacy disturbed, but this person didn't even give me time to get up out of there before letting loose with what sounded like a broken garbage bag full of Brunswick stew.

I decided that this ho had to be made an example of. So I put my iPod into my purse, pulled my pants up, and prepared a little surprise. I wadded up a giant ball of toilet paper and sanitary seat covers, dipped it all the way into the toilet, and tossed it over the wall of the stall. As she screamed with surprise, I leaped out of my stall, flipped off the light, and ran down the hall back to my company's office. I must say, it felt damn good to stand up for myself!

Birthday bowling blow-out!

Wednesday was Brandon's 8th birthday, so Phil and I took him, his sisters, and his little friend Andrew to the bowling alley. I had tried to invite some of his other friends, but their moms said that they didn't want to come because Brandon is a bully. That's okay by me, cause I don't really want him hanging out with boys who can't take a punch in the stomach.

On the way to the party we stopped off to throw my mom into a nursing home. The kids weren't too thrilled with it, and I certainly don't like giving up my full-time babysitter. But she needs to be looked after, because she's starting to become forgetful. You wouldn't believe the number of times she has forwarded me old stupid email jokes over the last 10 years.

She hasn't really wanted to babysit the kids much anyway, and it's kind of a pain to drive down the street to her house. So instead I just put the kids in their rooms and let Muffin out of the laundry room to guard the house. The brats won't set foot outside of their rooms when Muffin is on the prowl!

Luckily the kids were done crying by the time we arrived at the bowling alley. We got them all rounded up inside, and I payed for all our shoes. I love stupid rental bowling shoes. They have a way of bringing us all down to the same level. I think if a hot dog burp could somehow be transformed into a shoe, it would look like a bowling shoe.

Another good thing about a bowling alley is that you don't have to wash your hands in between throws and eating their tasty fried finger foods. And for some reason the beer just seems stronger than at home. I'm usually so shit-faced by the second game that I get the attendant to install the bumpers! They're happy to do it, because Phil is in a league team. That's like being a made man!

After our third game I asked Phil to get the kids into the van while I returned the shoes and paid up. While he was ushering them all out the door I shoved the bowling shoes into a little pile under some of the seats. I casually strolled across the room over to the other set of lanes, then cut a diagonal to the door when nobody seemed to be looking. As soon as I got out the door I sprinted to the van, and drove off.

One minute later and we're on the highway. As easy as it was, that little maneuver saved me about $70! The kids wanted to go to an arcade after that, but I had a better idea. I drove us over to the Toys "R" Us, and let them go inside and run wild. While they were gone me and Phil played "slap-and-tickle" in the van. If you ever wondered how condoms ended up on the ground in parking lots, well, now you know!

We got hit by the jackpot!

Finally, some good news! I got in a car wreck!

Sunday is the day I try to spend time with the kids. I took the little ones out for a drive in the morning, and let them throw trash at bicyclists from the passenger window. Then my teenage daughter and I headed out to rummage through this one outdoor donation bin, which is almost always overflowing by Sunday night. We picked out a couple of cute tops, and I found a garbage bag full of bras! That's the biggest score I've had since the time I swiped a whole pile of thongs from the dryer at the laundromat!

So I'm driving us back home in the van, and the stupid DVD we were watching started messing up. I reached around to the back seat for another movie and my phone slipped off my lap. I was in the middle of a turn at the time, which required me to yield onto the next road. I couldn't look around to my left for traffic because I was still trying to fetch my phone, so I put on the breaks. I turned to the left to see nobody, and that's when we got rear-ended!

I pulled off to the shoulder and the other driver pulled over behind us. He ran right up to the van to make sure that everyone was okay. I could barely suppress my smile, but inside I was busting with excitement! I got out to exchange info and we looked at each others damages. Luckily we took the van that day, which has a really high rear bumper. There was only a little bit of damage to my bumper. The poor bastard who hit us was in a brand new Mazda 3, and his front end was smashed all to hell!

That's the least of his worries, though. I've been recommended to a very good injury lawyer. That ho Shirl at my office used him in a similar accident, and made off with $35,000. And even though this is only a low speed crash, and my unborn baby is fine, the lawyer is going to refer us to a special doctor. This guy is a master at diagnosing accident-related pain conditions which are very difficult to disprove. All I have to do is play along, and before you know it, I'll be gettin' paid!

25 Wacky Halloween Tricks!

The other day I made a point to warn all of you about the dangers of handing out non-candy items as treats on Halloween. But what kinds of tricks would be appropriate as retaliation for such heinous behaviour? Obviously, you'll want to tailor your tricks to the individual victim, with a focus on traumatizing them for life. That's the only way they'll ever learn!

Here are a few fun ideas to get you started:

1.Catch a foodborne illness, use their jack-o-lantern as a toilet
2.Throw that crappy pumpkin through their bay window
3.Fire a wad of 50 bottle rockets into their shed or garage
4.Replace their brake fluid with Crystal Light
5.Trap their pet in a van and give it an obvious sex change
6.Paint their doorway with curdled pig's blood
7.Drop buckets of baking soda and vinegar down the chimney
8.Leave a flaming bag of entrails on the doorstep, ring bell
9.Call their phone, when they answer whisper, "I'm in the house!"
10.Sacrifice an inflatable love goat on their porch
11.Knock up their daughter, then refuse to pay child support
12.Burn a massive scarecrow on their front lawn
13.Rig up a non-fatal candy corn cluster bomb
14.Use a hot glue gun to seal all their windows and doors shut
15.Break into the basement and cause an odorless gas leak
16.Startle them by dressing up as their dead grandma
17.Force them to swallow the refuse from your ear candling
18.Put a razor blade in an apple and accuse them to the police
19.Break in and throw a black cat on them while they're taking a dump
20.Mummify them in a giant ball of 3-ply toilet paper
21.Drug a rabid raccoon and leave it in their glove compartment
22.Sneak a few senior citizens inside the house to stink up the place
23.Stuff their air conditioner full of carrot juice & bacon bits
24.Mess up their vinyl siding by covering it in bloody butt prints
25.Shoot a dart laced with Ben Gay right into their necks

Disclaimer:
This list is for entertainment purposes only.
Do not drug a rabid raccoon without your doctor's permission.

25 Unacceptable Halloween Treats!

As a parent, I take a large cut of my kids' Halloween candy. I have absolutely no use for all this non-candy bullcrap that some folks in my neighborhood have chosen to give out in lieu of actual treats. For all of our sakes I've prepared a list of the 25 worst items that have been offered to my kids on Halloween:

1.School supplies
2.Fat free snacks, like Goldfish crackers or pretzels
3.Homemade popcorn balls with bits of cat hair stuck on the side
4.Homemade caramel apples (which are actually kind of fun to throw)
5.Meat on a stick with little bones in it
6.Travel toothbrush and mini-toothpaste
7.Religious propaganda
8.Cheap ass 8-packs of generic Chinese crayons
9.Little paper bags full of dirty nickels & unwrapped gum
10.Individual used women's shoes that are like 30 yrs old
11.Midget granola bars with no chocolate or candy in them
12.Loose pastel Peanut M&Ms from four Easters ago
13.Cans of warm non-alcoholic beer
14.A couple of melted Sucrets from a leather jacket pocket
15.Miniature Hickory Farms meat and cheese logs
16.Worn out tennis balls that the dog has slobbered all over
17.Bouillon cubes
18.A runny slice of crappy pecan pie that you have to sit there and eat
19.Tiny shampoo samples from some hotel they stayed at
20.A fun-sized Milky Way with a big rusty needle sticking through it
21.Giant cans of soggy string beans from Costco
22.Crumbs from the bottom of a box of Lucky Charms
23.Handfuls of Sweet & Low packets from an elderly lady's purse
24.Rice cakes with globs of flavorless yogurt on them
25.Circus peanuts. Nobody wants to gnaw on that orange wad!

To avoid any doubt, go ahead and print this out and take it with you to the store. This is what they call "fair warning". If any of you scumbags try to drop some crap like this into my kids' trick or treat bags again, I promise you that I will personally assist them in carrying out a trick that ends with you being rushed to the hospital!

Learn some strip club etiquette!

Before I met my ex-husband, and before my first kid was born, I used to do a bit of stripping at one of Richmond's fine Southside gentlemen's clubs. So I think I'm more than qualified to teach you no account fools some of the finer points of properly conducting yourselves in a strip club environment.

The most important thing is tipping. Just because you paid a cover charge doesn't mean that you're "covered"! You guys need to tip each dancer for each dance! That's why they're coming around to every table after every performance. The standard tip is $0.50 per dance (a roll of pennies will do). An extra 15% should be added if the routine included ass clapping.

As for the women, the rule is the same, unless you're there with your man. In that circumstance you do not need to tip. We get so much satisfaction from being sexier to your man than you are that the bitchy scowls from you and your stupid best friend you brought along are payment enough! Just make sure you watch your mouth. It would be a shame if somebody cut that pretty face of yours!

Another thing you need to know is that we always come to work, even when we're sick. I've stripped while fighting a flu, or even when suffering from really bad gas! During my very first week on the job I accidentally farted right in a guy's face during a private dance! I figured it would be okay because I was wearing a spandex Catwoman suit, and cats are notorious for that. He didn't agree, so I told the bouncers that he groped me, and they threw him skull-first onto the pavement outside.

There's one question that I'm gonna answer even before you ask it: Yes, strippers are always available for sex in exchange for money! That's really how they make ends meet! And I can tell you right now that if you don't get to insert a finger during a private dance, you got ripped off! Hell, one time I gave an ex-convict a dry handjob in exchange for a half pack of cigarettes. It ain't no thang!

Some customers will make proposals of this sort when the girls are coming around for their tips. That's okay, but not ideal. The best way is to approach them in the parking lot when they're getting off their shift. Show her that you're carrying a large black plastic trash bag, so she'll see that there's somewhere to keep her purse and soiled dance costumes while she's workin' you over!

Of course that's not enough for some guys. Some of y'all want to learn how to date one of those sexy strippers you see on stage. That requires cocaine. Get yourself a dealer, and enough cash to keep a steady supply. Before you know it, you'll be one of those guys in his late forties who's moving in with a stripper in her late twenties who wears low rise jeans with stretched out thongs that ride halfway up her back.

Help my homeless homies!

Y'all forget sometimes how good y'all've got it. You're waking up each morning on your comfy beds, taking your hot lathery showers, driving your overprotected, brat-faced kids to school in your fancy cars. Well I don't forget. I try to do a little something each day to make things easier for those amongst us who are most vulnerable. Today is the day that we're going to get together, and talk about the issue of homelessness, rather than just turning a blind eye as we so often do.

Think about this. When you're sitting at a stoplight, what do you do? Find a different CD to listen to, pick your nose, and maybe gawk at the person in the car next to you? When what you could be doing is helping that poor laid off veteran who's standing on the corner with a sign, asking for help. Do you think his Sprint GPS cell phone bill is going to pay itself? Do you think that 2-year old Honda Pilot he has parked around the corner is going to pay itself off? Y'all gotta think!

Damn near every time I go to Carytown there's some crusty dude sitting at the end of the I-195 exit with a crudely fashioned sign. So when I get up to the light I reach my hand into that sticky plastic pocked inside my car door and dig out as many pennies, car wash and Chuck E. Cheese tokens as I can possibly find. Then I toss them on the ground near his feet and take off through the yellow light. Screw the horn honking haters behind me who are waiting through two light cycles just to make it off the ramp. This is more important!

Commuters can do a lot of good, because we see the same people every morning. Familiar strangers, who we connect with on some human level. That's why it's nice to work up a little care package once in a while for those who appear to be in need. Include practical items, like last night's leftovers from Chili's, that blanket your dog used to sleep on before he died, and a mini-crowbar that can be used for self defence, or for finding a warm place to sleep. I also like to include sample-sized packets that I get in the mail, like tooth whitening strips and personal lubricant.

They say that kids make up a large portion of the homeless population. I never see them around our town, but statistics say that they're there. So I keep plastic bags full of my kids' old clothes in the trunk to give to homeless people that I see along my travels. I can only assume that they take those items back to wherever their children are. Of course I only give away torn or visibly soiled items, because I can sell the decent ones for a few bucks at a children's consignment shop.

Finally, we come down to the most pitiful of all, homeless people's dogs. I'm sure that having them along helps with the frequency of cash donations, so who can blame these needy folks for stealing cute dogs out of peoples' yards? Certainly not me! But we also have to face the fact that the money you give these panhandlers for "dog food" is going to be used for booze or heroin. Then they're going to feed the dog half-eaten Taquitos out of the 7-11 dumpster. So instead of cash donations, you could give them things that only a dog would want, like a bag of chicken bones, or an opened package of out-of-date chocolates.