So enough about me...

So at the therapy meeting this week, Doc Hill decided to lecture me about my blog and some of the anger in them. "What anger?" I asked, because I didn't see it. He also got onto me about my vulgarity, but it's my blog and I'll write what I want to.

And then I got a freakin assignment.

I'm now suppose to write something about some of the therapy group members...why I don't know. But I'm suppose to be nice, so I guess I will be....sort of.

Let's meet this band of misfi....mischievous folk.

Allen- This young man is a pathological liar...in other words, his fantasy stories are often more amusing than what's really going on. Often I'll comes to therapy in a bad mood, and after hearing how angels in bikinis helped turn his car into a tye dyed colored tank, would feel much better.

Janine- I'm not quite sure what her problem is, outside of the fact the mere sight of people makes her roll up into some sort of human ball. I'll try to talk to her, but it's like trying to get a mime out of the invisible box he's trapped in...not going to happen. She seems like a good kid though.

Seymour- Our resident Lenny...minus the rabbit. This most of the time gentile giant comes from a group home and is very childlike. I heard he came into the group because he got so upset at not having meatballs for dinner that he broke one of the orderly ribs, but I'm sure not going to ask. He seems to like me though, so that's good in case I need someone for a fight. I'd just tell him the guy attacking me took his meatballs.

Jessica - The goth princess. This teenager likes to draw on herself....too bad the drawing involves a razor blade. I know I'm suppose to be nice and all, but Jessica can be a bit of a...hmm what's a nice way to put it....a whiny, bratty little bitch. Talking over people, making fun of Seymour, and just a part of this new generation I refer to as "annoying". She also write U for you and 2 for to/too.

Uh oh...I'm probably going to be in trouble again. If that's the case...fuck ass shit cock balls and testicle breath.

"Ever Seen An Old Woman Naked, Timmy?

Sorry to use such a disturbing title, but it got your attention didn't it?

Today I'm going to discuss something that most guys won't admit to, at least not while sober. I fully blame basic instincts (not the terrible Sharon Stone movies, although it didn't help) for this, but shame causes most of us to not admit to ourselves the truth....

We will look at any woman naked.

Now I'm excluding gay men because....well they like other men. Nothing more. But heterosexual men will look at a pair of tits, regardless if it's on a hot chick, a 400 hambeast, or grandma just suntanning her sweater puppies on the old folks home deck.

Now this doesn't mean we like it...I know there are times I haven't enjoyed it...but much like a car accident, we have to look because in our minds, we have to see every woman naked. It's almost like a game in our heads to see who has seen the most women naked. It's a game that's never really discussed because guys would be ragging on each other to hide their shame that they hadn't seen that particular woman nude...despite her having hairy nipples.

I'm just saying that tits are the greatest thing God (or whoever you choose to believe or not believe in) ever created and should be free to look at by all...just don't brag to me about it or I'll mock you until you cry.

Life a Beach, and then you Dry

I was woken from a peaceful slumber cause by the consumption of many beers by Sara this morning, who informed me that we would be going to the beach. As I'm not really one that enjoys being around large groups of people herding around in skimpy clothing (hence you not finding me at nightclubs or Applebees), I did everything to get out of it. From whining like a bitch to the Miles Gordon patented "puppy dog of sadness" face, I could not overcome the wily charms of my better half.

Once we got to the beach, Sara got into her beach clothing (showing off her awesome rack by the way) I decided to wade through the dregs of humanity to find any nuggets of humor...or shark's teeth.

What I found:

- A skinny white man with snoop dogg braided hair that apparently his fat friend/prison bitch made for him. I watched as these two lover boys tried their charms on any women that came their way...including two women apparently mentally retarded. They may have developmental problems, but even these women could see that Snoop and the Fatman would make bad choices for mates. Good for you girls.

- Kids who think that's it perfectly OK to splash water on me for no reason. They apparently have a problem though if I grab a bucket, fill it with mother nature's sink, and splash the diseased little bastards with her own backwash.

- Women wearing swimsuits that tell you that the material holding them in is working overtime. Look out.

- Men watching these women. I'll write about that soon.

- The only pair of boobs I got to see belonged to some 300 pound guy. They were impressive though.

As we finally left (and my skin burned to a toasty crisp), I noticed two more things. One, was the van in front of us with two 12 packs of the worst beer ever (Milwaukee's best) strapped on the back. Why no put it IN the van and not let us know you have terrible taste in beer?

Oh the other thing? A fat Jesse Duke on one of those motorized carts heading to the beach.

"It looks like Ol' Uncle Jesse is in for a heap of diabetes and sunburn".