Tag Archives: poop

Harm Aid

farmvilleOut looking for a place to live, my wife and I happened upon a quaint little house in the city that we liked. There was a cyclone fence that wrapped around the backyard with an old-fashioned and weathered “beware of dog” sign on the gate. The front yard was grass.

We thought the yard and the fence would come in handy for those times when family stopped by with their dogs. In anticipation of the fun we’d have we even picked up a Chuckit and ball.

At no time were we advised there were plans to change anything about the house. The property management people treated us throughout the entire process like the rental scum that we were.

Finally it was moving day. We rolled into town in our U-haul and arrived at the property. It was so exciting. We hadn’t seen the house in two months.

Surprise. The fence was gone although the gate remained. It was no longer a place for dogs. The lawn had been replaced with raw dirt that would soon be the uber cool and trendy urban front-yard farm.

Sorry, dog. We’ve been victimized by bait-and-switch. There’s no place for a game of catch around here. But I do see a nice place where you can bury your bones. Please, feel free.

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There Are Stupid Questions

stupid-questionsSomeone the other day said to me, “You should write another blog post.” Technically that’s not a question. Technically.

They say you should be careful what you wish for. At least that’s what my parents told me.

Hang on. Please. We’re not accepting questions till the end. Please let me finish. You see, I know a thing or two about stupid questions. I used to ask them. A lot.

I did it on purpose. Ain’t I a stinker?

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The Year In Re-Doo-Doo

I ain’t got the time or the inclination to make another year in review video. Maybe next year. Until then I’m recycling this garbage from two years ago. Use your God-given powers of imagination and relive 2014 Shouts From The Abyss classic moments like these:

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The Feel Turd Moment of the Year

Ebony and Ivory.

Ebony and Ivory.

The holiday season is upon us. This may be a festive time of year but sometimes it’s important to slow down, focus, center, be present, and remember our roots.

For me, today, that means pausing to pay homage to the poop tag.

“Roll the crap. Action!”

Once upon a time a company made a game called Cards Against Humanity. It was mildly cute but a blatant rip of Apples To Apples. They lost points on that.

But now, I’m happy to say they have more than redeemed themselves. The Christmas spirit is very much alive. So much so, you might say that I’ve been moved.

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The Surreal Housewives of #PDX

Dysfunctional-familyFamily is enemies you don’t get to choose.
–Tom B. Taker

Once again that special time of year is nigh upon us. The holidays. Where we gather with family and friends around fire and hearth to poke at each other’s eyeballs with forks.

Run. I mean that in a T-Rex-is-gaining-on-us-in-the-Jeep sort of way.

From time to time my wife will venture out to work for the Portland elite to line her pocketses with a few handfuls of coppers. She hangs out her shingle as consultant and efficiency expert. That means, of course, employers will spend their entire day trying to trick her into changing diapers, walking the dog and running to Starbucks for another Cornucopia of Venti.

The following is a true story. No embellishment.

It was Thanksgiving. The husband’s parents arrived for a two-week stay. The day after Thanksgiving the wife took off, on her own, to vacation separately in Palm Springs until the in-laws had safely left town.

Why didn’t I think of that?! Stoopid, stoopid, stoopid. Me so stupid! Me bad.

With the in-laws left home alone, the husband locked himself away in the office. The nanny watched their children. And the mother-in-law proceeded to grill household staff. “What the hell does she do around here, anyway?”

God bless us, every one.

All Your Contents Belong To Us

White represents content on more than one service. Red represents content only available in one place, i.e., the stuff you actually want.

White represents content available on more than one service. Red represents content only available in one place, i.e., the stuff you actually think you want.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news (actually not true) but I think I’ve figured out how it works. (I don’t just bitch, either. I’ll also include solutions. I’m proactive that way.)

  • Netflix is the only source for Netflix Original programming: House of Cards and Orange Is The New Black.
  • Hulu is the only source for Hulu Original programming: None come to mind but I do know they’ll have commercials.
  • Amazon Prime has mostly the same shit.
  • iTunes offers the same content but at premium ala carte prices.
  • HBO is the only source for HBO Original programming: The Newsroom and Game Of Thrones.
  • CBS is a bunch of greedy dillholes: Survivor and Big Bang Theory.
  • MLB is the only source for most MLB Original programming but only if you have enough money. Otherwise they won’t even stream the goddamned World Series. (I was actually surprised by this, but only for a nanosecond.)

I prognosticated to my wife a long time ago that the days of accessing “content” would soon be coming to a close. This week we moved much closer to that reality. You like some shows on Hulu and some on Netflix? You’ll have to buy both even if the remaining majority of their DNA is essentially the same. Exclusivity is the ticket to getting customers to pay more than once. And make no mistake, it is all out global thermonuclear war on your wallet. That is the only thing that matters. They don’t do this for fun.

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Grand Unification Theory of Reproduction

Four out of five doctors recommend removing that leach from your neck. You're supposed to apply them outside the body. That's our key action point of the day.

Four out of five doctors recommend removing that leech from your neck. You’re supposed to apply them outside the body. That’s our key action point of the day.

I stylishly removed my fedora and flung it like a frisbee. No phone booths were to be found. I was about to write something for the Daily Diatribe, a major metropolitan daily in the uber city of Grabham. And I was their intrepid reporter.

Yeah, it was something like that when I had my latest epiphany.

We all know parents are the worst people to have children. But why?

The idea came to me when watching the birth of a little baby deer. Plop! It landed on the ground. Gross. But in a few minutes it struggled to it’s feet. It was already walking!

A few more minutes and it was able to prance. And, by the very next day, it was able to beat an average University of Portland student at ping pong. But what did this mean? (Besides the fact that UP students can’t play ping pong for shit.)

Oh, yeah. Now I remember. Human babies are slow at survival and being able to fend for themselves. Our species may be the most intelligent (heh!) on this planet but it comes at a very high cost. We all start as utterly helpless lifeforms.

And therein lies the rub.

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