big enormous cock

Hell no not me. You down with OPP? Hell no not me. You down with OPP? Not at this party.

Ok so we all think we know what OPP is given out wonderful mid 90s Naughty By Nature song. I have taken it for a different spin. Lets see the possibilities: Odd Ponies Prancing, Oblong Pinnacle Patties, Otters Picking Posies, Osom Possum Possum, Oh Possum Possum, Old Pink Pickachu, Old People’s Pants*, Ocean Pacific Panties*, Over Processed Perms*, Outrageous Panties Posse, Overt Perky Pomeranian*, Oblique Punk Posers, Orgy Porgy Porcupine, Old Pureny Preening*, Over Pompous Pancake, Octogenarian People Pleasers*, Odd Pasties Paste, Octotupssy Pussy Parade, Olive Pit Pride, On Popple Pounce, Ontario Plastic Paste, On Parker Poise, (the * OPPs were created by the one and only Claudette Powell). Ok I think that’s enough of that. The list goes on and on till the break of dawn. Lets just say that I’ve named it for the purposes of this blog to be Other Peoples Pubes.

Gag. Really are pubes really a necessary thing on this earth. For the unclean they are carries of little creatures and disease. Otherwise what purpose do they serve on this planet? I guess I was asleep in that part of sex-ed in school. They just kinda sit there. Are they for decoration? I know for women they could have hot bacon strips if they wanted to. But for the most part they just kinda are. My reasoning for this blog is more so a public service announcement. People keep your damn pubes to yourself. Really. Its not that hard. I don’t want to see them left on anything. I know they exist and they are fine on your person but to share them with others is another story. And by sharing I mean leaving them floating or on the sides of toilets or urinals. Good lord. They are like little twisted trophies left by a certain individual who wanted to share a bit of themselves with the world like it was their 15 minutes of fame. A bit like what the artist Andy Goldsworthy does right? Pube art, YIKES. Pubes are not nice keepsakes. I’m sure its not just straight men that do this shit. Keep your pubes to yourself. Maybe this isn’t a major problem in most places but at the restroom at my office, there are lots of dirry old men in general here I guess.

Someone should teach them bathroom etiquette. Maybe I’m just a big diva but here are some things that I feel would be nice if they changed. Like its inappropriate to whistle in the bathroom especially when you pee. No one wants to hear your song in the powder room. I’m sure you are extatic to whisle your piss away but it makes others uneasy. And what else oh yeah if you are at the urinal and are standing next to someone (heaven forbid) keep your raunchy farts to yoDAMNself. I actually had this experience once let me share, because I know that everyone wants to hear this story. I was you know doing my thing at the urinal and this short elderly gent walks up and does his thang too. Well all of a sudden I hear a tiny “bloop”. And was like oh hell no he didn’t just blow ass next to me. Then then THEN he had the most ginormous fart ever. I was appalled and or horrified. I had to finish and wash my hands and run away in shock. Luckily it didn’t smell or I would have gone crazy or maybe screamed in disgust. Who really has that sorta density to just let it fly when someone is standing next to them? I guess people lose all their common sense when they are in the potty. Lose yourself to the music something something just lose it.

I’ve had this conversation with Claudette and Stacy at work on occasion about the bathroom behavior of male verses female and all the different gender specifities. I’ve learned that all the women on the second floor of where we work don’t whistle, or talk to each other when they are pottying (unless they need TP). They don’t’ rip raunchy farts when they are in stalls next to one another. Claude and Stacy were appalled by the stories that I shared. Maybe its just men in general. The bathroom is the place where they can act nasty and think that no one else cares. Cause you know men are tough and shouldn’t’ let anything affect them. Maybe its because I’m a fag that I do care, but you would think any fully functioning person wouldn’t like someone to let out a huge fart when you were standing with them. I mean maybe they think its in the bathroom so its acceptable but if it was anywhere else. I mean the bathroom is a room like anyplace else. You wouldn’t be in a meeting and do that or an elevator. Yoga class I guess is a different story.

Well that’s probably why it’s a PUBLIC bathroom but its just common decenty. Does that make me that judgmental that I’m trying to censor the very basic bodily releases? So what I’m a princess, fuck you that’s right. The reality of it is that I don’t’ want to taste your fecal matter and experience your bodily functions. I’m not your partner and I don’t’ need to know that side of you. “Don’t’ pull on my hand boy you aint my man boy. I just came to pee boy and work my hump” (well not my hump more so for singing my humps). Maybe if peoples diets just improved this wouldn’t’ be a problem. Damn SuperSized society. I guess I’m just shocked at people lack of sense of just letting the bodily functions go without any remorse for others. Like people who go the bathroom really loud. (I'm not into hot carls and should not have to be indirectly subjected to them). But are these people like this in other facets of their life? Like they don’t’ care about the way people perceive them. Are they more confident? Go-getters? Can walk into a room and go ok here we go lets get things started? Or can they walk into a room full of people and talk to everyone and be the life of the party? You think Paris Hilton does that? Are they more popular? Well they aint popular with me that’s right I said it.

I guess the moral of this story is to not leave yo nappy ass pubes around the bathroom its unsanitary and barftatular.

Posted by I have a suspicious package... in my pants at 06:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Where does the time go? FINALLY here it is. Don’t’ get to happy though cause you know expectations are a bitch. Like expecting that Xanadu would be the worstest best movie ever but just sadly wasn’t drunk enough to appreciate its craptasticness, but I’m sure I’ll see it totally intoxicated at some point and it’ll be better. Ok Ok Ok so I’m happy that we were nominated. A nomination is admirable. Its kinda like two pence short of a tomato.

I mean what? I’m happy for Loretta and the company because we got the greatest nods of the evening. Sadly we fucking lost to tap. Hello. Tap excuse me. Tap really. No I’m sorry can you repeat that again the tap piece won. Get the fuck out. Sure they were taptastic but really how much can you get out of tap. Unless you’re A.D.D tap can only go so far, but good tap is good tap. But come on Tap and Penn---ing----ton dance won everything. They must be real good “friends” with the D-R-C. I was so tired of seeing his bald spot coming up on stage to accept another award. I should probably censor this seeing that google index is crazy sometimes. Jesus God, Greg and I talked about it I don’t think that the D-R-C thinks evolution is the way of the future. Seeing that 90’s dance is still winning awards. We are going to dance with masks and have bright colored asymmetrically colored unitards. J.P must have some sorta blackmail set on the D-R-C or sells them a lot of drugs. Between seeing him win everything and having to sit thought a 4 hour ceremony where the French man who only wears leather talked about the girl from the times for about an hour so it seemed. I had to get drunk during intermission so everything kinda slowed down after that. People are way to long winded its like we have to go and see your choreography and now we have to listen to you talk. Divas sit the fuck down so that I can go hit the bar and try to forgot all the torture that I was forced to sit though. Well I wouldn’t know it was torture if I didn’t’ know the good things in life right? Sure there were some good moments but those have slipped away from me at the moment. Oh yeah Rudy was hilarious. Can’t say at much for his work but you know he’s a hilarious biatch and I wasn’t even drunk for that part of the evening. Yeah Mr. Leather man talking was the second most horrid part of the evening. He’s funny to but way way way to fucking long. He was cool afterwards pouring us Vuvvvvvve champagne. It was wonderfully with the 2buck. They did have a cool video montage about a brother duo who was famous in movies for tap. I guess tap is decent when it doesn’t fuck with my chances to win. Wow that was way harsh Ty. No really I like tap sometimes. Not the tap from the student dance concerts though. Oh my god I saw one where these girls were doing tap to “Sandstorm” you know the electronic song. It huge many years ago. But they were doing tap with their shit eating grins on actually thinking they were innovative for playing techno in a tap piece. I heard one of the girls mention that. It was sad but probably one of those things if we videoed and showed in Whipper Snappers later that it would be really good like the cheerleader dance. I digress TANGENT time. But the montage was cool and they were funny and did things like round offs into huge leaps into the splits. Oh and the lady M.C was amuzing to me, with her lack of any sort of public speaking ability and really tired way to hard and her soft airy voice and being way to overly excited about everything but that must have been in her job description. The written form of the awards ceremony probably doesn’t compare as well to the live show that I gave at the clubhouse on Sunday. But hey I was wound up drunk of wine and champagne disgruntle, conflicted and really had to get that out there while it was fresh in my mind. I think that I should do my parody of the J Rog piece cause you know its way fucking better than that. Oh lord here it comes, on your mark, get set GO. Ok ok ok. So who thinks that a 45 minute stage show with bad jazz and sucky performers is fun? And I was waiting for it to be so bad that it went around the circle to be good again but nope it was just plain bad. Not even humorous. Physically biting my hand was less painful than watching that. This was after that the queen talked for 45 minutes with his kid and his “wife.” I think that his wife is younger than his daughter. I should have known better seeing that this man won the lifetime achievement and that the picture that they used for him on the flyer was him in a full layout. Should have been blatantly obvious. So I already wanted to shoot myself before the finale even started and Greggy had left and I just got confused about the entire situation, and to add insult to injury I had to pee like nobody’s business. I think I sat there for at least 20 minutes watching this Latino man “sing” and then slip into the Spanish and back into English. But finally he exited and this old guy came on who throughout the rest of the dance had this constant look like he was a deer caught in headlights. Short little dumpy guy who was supposed to be Mr Bojangles the original soft shoe. It would have maybe been ok if he was a good but surprisingly he wasn’t. And then and then and then something happened and this tiny Latino queen came on who I’m sure testacies haven’t’ dropped yet and had to dance with this OG’s of the company. Pedophile nation at its finest. Oh god that the outfits kept changing. The girls were supposed to be in these sassy salsa gowns didn’t work accept for the main lady who looked like a drag queen. She was the one that was getting angry at everyone during the piece telling them to do it again and to stop dancing. Then she was sticking up for the steroid queen when he was pouting that the ugly twig man was having a solo that was supposed to be his. But she put her man foot down and told everyone to get out of the way and then felt herself up. Mind you while this hell is going on I still had to pee so pressure was building more and more. There was the group salsa dance sequence. With bad jazz jumps and everyone is ass tight spandex. Vomitous. Then there was some transition where they man/lady was talking about how she was the only one that could feel it and was rubbing on herself. And all of a sudden the women came out in robes like Modern Modern dancing. And did this whole traditional type dance and they waltzed and it was bad. And the men had their spandex but put on chaps over there. It was like a bad gay bar where people were confused if they were into leather or western wear. There was really no cohesive line between it but he really wanted there to be one. Finally I saw people bailing and I decided it was time to hit the bar. Cookies and wine awaited and were much needed. Its funny the awards are there to honor the best of the year but the show they have like the worst dances ever. Damn politics. I’m not bitter no not at all. But hey those are everywhere and that’s why we are here to create art and do our thing no matter what. It makes me love the work that we create and other quality work out there. But again we wouldn’t’ know the good if it wasn’t the bad. That’s the way it goes I guess. Good lord though if I ever do see Mr. J. R on the street might have to take something of his to try and take back some of the life that was wasted watching his crap unfold. Wow way harsh again Ty. Naw I’m joking. I’m very glad I saw that hate-show piece it makes me smile in retrospect, because just how fucking bad it was. Thank you and goodnight yesterday tomorrow forward not upwards backwards not forwards and twirling twirling towards freedom.

Posted by I have a suspicious package... in my pants at 04:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I have yet to write my Horton wrap up but you know there are some technical difficulties that have put a blockade in my typing speed and ability.

Franken finger. Seeing part of yourself lying on a table is quite uneasing. I had to hold the little piece of my finger that the box cutter so sweetly hacked off for me, because I really didn't want it to go. It was strange. Kinda like holding a Tylenol but more organic, more soft. I used to be part of a livening organism but was now one of its own. I've heard people say hold yourself but really this was a step to far. I thought it was a nice keepsake for a while. Like when a kid has a mouse in its pocket or a bullfrog. "You wanna see whats in my pocket?" but sadly had to pitch it seeing that I was losing blood quite quickly and didn't know when it was going to stop. It took 2 hours if you want to know for it to finish. I still have the visual of the tiny hunk of me sitting on a metal ruler next to a sharp box cutter. I thought I was ok besides the obvious situation, but work had to take me to the hospital. That freaked me out because I thought I was fine but they worked me up to almost crying. Damn hysterical making society. The emergency room was going to take 4 hours we overheard. Scary emergency rooms. Lots of crazy emotions and the polarity between the stern hospital receptionist and the people pouring in begging to see their love ones and telling their horror stories and still can't go in. Very hard on the heartstrings. We ditched that place and I got fixed up. No stitches cause I just scalped off part of my middle finger. Red and Greg asked if I got any drugs out of this deal seeing that its on the work dollar but I didn't think of it. Lost to much blood or something. I named my fingers and now my band-aids look like koala heads cause they have ears kinda. That bitch who I was cutting shit for owns be candy or something. But she won't. Oh well now I'll just have an imperfect fire finger but who wants perfect fingers anyways.

Posted by I have a suspicious package... in my pants at 06:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)