2010 WAS A BAD YEAR FOR NAPS

My legs hurt tonight. I think it may be a combination of age and falling down the stairs this morning while going downstairs. I think I’m not getting enough sleep these days and one of the reasons I don’t get enough sleep is that I didn’t get enough naps this past year. And I blame the government.

As a Libertarian I enjoy blaming the government for as much and as many things as possible. I would even blame the government for cutbacks in government, if that were to ever happen, perhaps in a bizzaro universe. I certainly blame them for falling down the stairs this morning and the now throbbing pain in my legs. If I lived in Canada, I’d go get me some National Health, but the government in this country doesn’t offer that, so I just laid in bed today, with a slurpie, and rubbed my legs with liniment, none of which came from the government. Damn government.

Why did I fall down the stairs? Because in 2010 I didn’t get nearly the amount of naps I am used to. As an example, in 2009, I got a good one hour nap every afternoon. Sometimes, if I didn’t wake up, I’d even get two hours or more. It all depended on when I woke. But this year, because the government was so busy, doing things and making noise, my naps were nearly cut in half. That’s no way to run a country. Any nation that can send a man to the moon, can assure me that I’ll be able to get my afternoon nap. I need it! I love my nap so much. I get all scrunched up in my little bed, my favorite pillow right under my head, take off all my clothes (before the scrunching, that is) and take a wondrous trip to dreamland for an hour or two. It’s always helped that I’ve had long periods of unemployment, as this makes nap time much more convenient. And that’s only part of it. After my nap, when I get up, I have a glass of Ovaltine and an Oreo cookie as a reward for yet another successful nap. Now the government has ruined it for me. How would the government like it if they couldn’t take their nap when they wanted to?

And who the hell are you, anyway?

Joey

My Pants Are Getting Smaller

First, I don't think it is any of you, here at the blog, who have been messing around with my pants. So, you're fine. Just don't touch my pants when they are near your house.

My number one pants (the pair I love and cherish, and wear over to the gas station across the street from my apartment) were hanging in my closet yesterday when I went for them, and I noticed that they were a little tight. I know I've been trying to save money by eating cheap eats at malt shops, gas stations, burger palaces, machines where you pull on a knob to get choco cookies and other convenient goodies. And perhaps I have put on a pound here and there, maybe more ass pounds than, say, hand or feet pounds, but I don't think my pants got that tight just from a little overeating on my part.

I had to use the ladies pay toilet downtown yesterday, because the men's was slippery, and Chester, the clean up dude, hadn't come in yet. Now, as most of you know, inside the ladies (this is the heterosexual ladies toilet, by the way) stall is a really good snack machine, with ice cream bars, extra crispy fried chicken, Yoo Hoo's, and lots of other fine chops to whet anyone's appetite while they're waiting to shit inside a heterosexual ladies toilet. Oh, yeah. The Lesbian toilet was also free, but I know what goes on inside there, and I was afraid. Gee, isn't that strange? I own the damn thing, and I'm afraid to use one of my own stalls. Weird world. The gay toilet was in use, as always, and I don't bother my gay brothers while they are doing what they do best. But I don't usually eat supper in my toilets, downtown. For a good, clean meal, try my family stalls at the beach.

Back to my pants. They are just too tight. Especially around the crotch, and tushy-meat. And, as you all know, those are my two most important areas, in or out of my pants. I did have a beer and some pizza while on the pot (you have to order out for pizza though. Maybe we should get an oven, huh?) and my pants were around my feet while I grunted just as hard as my tiny little voice could grunt. I grunted, and then grunted harder, and harder, and harder. Then a knock on the door came, and the pizza boy was here. Well, of course I was embarrassed, but what could I do? I unlocked the door and let him in. Naturally, I covered my personal goodies with a copy of the Ladies Home Companion.

As I sat there, half naked in my "Mrs. Toilet" (that's what we call the can for married ladies and where I was having a nice time just crapping away, without a care in the world) I contemplated my life. And hoped for better days. And used the phone to order some new pants.

I gave the pizza boy a slice of pizza and a drink of water, because I didn't have any change for a tip. What could I do? When a grown man doesn't have enough change for a decent tip for the delivery boy while sitting on the toilet, he does the best he can.

The end.


Joey

Japan And Me

I feel like a heel writing about my own good luck while listening to the radio and reading the papers about the catastrophe in Japan.

I went to the ear doctor yesterday, and he didn't torture me (made me pay...what is this socialism?). Unlike the emergency room attendant who put some kind of big long stick all the way down my ear and twisted and turned the thing like Chubby Checker fucking Miss America, the real doctor put a little suction tube into the really bad ear (my hearing was really wanting, and the pressure was, well, pressuriffic) and sucked (I hope) all of the wax out of my ear. I can hear. I SAID I CAN HEAR! Damn, you folks ain't paying all of the attention I need to get by. So get in my car, and just listen.

Now, in the day since the doctor righted me, I am just nervous about the wax coming back. Certainly I'll stay away from Johnson Wax stores and automatic wax machines, as well as Waxy Berstein, an old friend from school, who now, I will unfortunately have to drop. I am not taking any chances, you people who love and respect me (ok like me...this ain't Facebook).

But I am playing with myself. WHAT! Get that dirt out of your head Mommy, and think upright. I mean that I put a hand over one ear, then another hand (I have the two) over the other ear (two of them too) to test my hearing. I have a feeling I'm going to be alright, but I need to test things, to make sure.

Now...may God have love and mercy on Japan. Back to the radio!

Joe