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March 10th, 2008

Joy Comes in the Morning

So, sure, I can take a few days off from typing here. Why? Because I’m the Big, Ugly Man Doll, that’s why. What’s the point of being fascinatingly crazy big and ugly if you can’t kick back once in a while, eh?
 
Just to bring you up to speed from when last we left our hero: I’ve been working, and if you think that’s hard to believe, wait ‘til you hear what else has been going down.
 
First, I have to come right out and tell you: I’m a torturer. I mean, let’s not go all ASPCA on each other and everything, but yeah, I saw the shot and took it. Yeah, on the cat. No, I’m not proud. But hey, it was like he was begging for it, you know what I mean? I mean, there I was, taking my weekly shower, and the cat climbs up between the shower curtain and the plastic sheet on the inside of the tub, where I can see him standing there, looking at me, taunting me. Have you ever been taunted by a cat?
 
So I took down the hose and I waterboarded that furry bastard. Not that I condone such methods, not that I would ever recommend nor approve their use, but under repeated torture the subject gave up the location of the Barbie who went missing last week, the names of his unindicted co-conspirators, and the location of the rebel base. (He’s far too trusting.) Then he hopped down and sauntered off, tail in the air. A tough guy.
 
The Barbie, by the way, will remain missing – I’m not going in there after her, never mind that I know where she’s being held. That’s Ken’s job. Besides, that doll was probably asking for it.
 
Have you ever noticed that from about 50 feet away, with the volume down, Jimmy Buffet sounds just like John Denver? I better turn that up. Or get my hearing checked.
 
In other news, I’m proud to announce that for the first time in nearly 3 years, I can finally button all my shirts at the neck again! Gym memberships cost about $500, and replacing every one of those damn shirts was not only cheaper and faster than losing the weight, but a LOT more satisfying. Lowered my heart attack risk, too – exercise can be deadly!
 
So yes indeed, Joy comes in the morning.  Usually after her asshole husband has left for the office.
 
On a closing note, go check your credit records. SOBUMD just checked ours, only to find that some Romeo got hold of our MasterCard information and ran up a couple hundred bucks in charges. OK, lesse, you’re an enterprising young single person and you have someone else’s credit card number – what do you do? That’s right, you run up charges on www.match.com, www.americansingles.com, and 1-800-FLOWERS. Yeah, you’re MY dream date, pal! Why do I hear Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond… 
You don't steal me flowers / You don't filk me love songs
You hardly talk to me anymore / When you pick up the phone
On the other side of the glass









And baby, I remember
All the things you bought me / All the lessons that you taught me
Well I learned how to phish / And I learned how to lie
You'd think I could learn / How to tell you goodbye
'Cause you don't steal me flowers
Anymore
(Just to be thorough, I waterboarded the cat again.  He swore it wasn’t him, and I can’t prove anything, so I had to let him walk.)
 
Anyway, go check your credit cards.  And next time you meet that nice person on www.HotSinglesLoveYouLongTime.com, check for certain clues: 
  • _Punk Rock Girl_ is playing on the XM (“We hopped into her car and then we started rollin / I asked how much you pay for this she said nothin man it’s stolen").  Note make of vehicle.
  • Notice if your date seems inclined to spend money on you beyond their obvious means, or beyond what you know you’re really worth.
  • Ask who’s footing the bill for the evening, and take special note if they respond with something like, “Oh, just some big, ugly man doll.”

You are authorized to use waterboarding if necessary.


 

Tags:



Yep, looks like another post from the Big, Ugly Man Doll!

Joy Comes in the Morning

Originally published at Big Ugly Man Doll. Please leave any comments there.

So, sure, I can take a few days off from typing here. Why? Because I’m the Big, Ugly Man Doll, that’s why. What’s the point of being fascinatingly crazy big and ugly if you can’t kick back once in a while, eh?

 
Just to bring you up to speed from when last we left our hero: I’ve been working, and if you think that’s hard to believe, wait ‘til you hear what else has been going down.
 
First, I have to come right out and tell you: I’m a torturer. I mean, let’s not go all ASPCA on each other and everything, but yeah, I saw the shot and took it. Yeah, on the cat. No, I’m not proud. But hey, it was like he was begging for it, you know what I mean? I mean, there I was, taking my weekly shower, and the cat climbs up between the shower curtain and the plastic sheet on the inside of the tub, where I can see him standing there, looking at me, taunting me. Have you ever been taunted by a cat?
 
So I took down the hose and I waterboarded that furry bastard. Not that I condone such methods, not that I would ever recommend nor approve their use, but under repeated torture the subject gave up the location of the Barbie who went missing last week, the names of his unindicted co-conspirators, and the location of the rebel base. (He’s far too trusting.) Then he hopped down and sauntered off, tail in the air. A tough guy.
 
The Barbie, by the way, will remain missing – I’m not going in there after her, never mind that I know where she’s being held. That’s Ken’s job. Besides, that doll was probably asking for it.
 
Have you ever noticed that from about 50 feet away, with the volume down, Jimmy Buffet sounds just like John Denver? I better turn that up. Or get my hearing checked.
 
In other news, I’m proud to announce that for the first time in nearly 3 years, I can finally button all my shirts at the neck again! Gym memberships cost about $500, and replacing every one of those damn shirts was not only cheaper and faster than losing the weight, but a LOT more satisfying. Lowered my heart attack risk, too – exercise can be deadly!
 
So yes indeed, Joy comes in the morning.  Usually after her asshole husband has left for the office.
 
On a closing note, go check your credit records. SOBUMD just checked ours, only to find that some Romeo got hold of our MasterCard information and ran up a couple hundred bucks in charges. OK, lesse, you’re an enterprising young single person and you have someone else’s credit card number – what do you do? That’s right, you run up charges on www.match.com, www.americansingles.com, and 1-800-FLOWERS. Yeah, you’re MY dream date, pal! Why do I hear Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond… 
You don't steal me flowers / You don't filk me love songsYou hardly talk to me anymore / When you pick up the phoneOn the other side of the glass



And baby, I rememberAll the things you bought me / All the lessons that you taught meWell I learned how to phish / And I learned how to lieYou'd think I could learn / How to tell you goodbye'Cause you don't steal me flowersAnymore
(Just to be thorough, I waterboarded the cat again.  He swore it wasn’t him, and I can’t prove anything, so I had to let him walk.)
 
Anyway, go check your credit cards.  And next time you meet that nice person on www.HotSinglesLoveYouLongTime.com, check for certain clues: 
  • _Punk Rock Girl_ is playing on the XM (“We hopped into her car and then we started rollin / I asked how much you pay for this she said nothin man it’s stolen”).  Note make of vehicle.
  • Notice if your date seems inclined to spend money on you beyond their obvious means, or beyond what you know you’re really worth.
  • Ask who’s footing the bill for the evening, and take special note if they respond with something like, “Oh, just some big, ugly man doll.”

You are authorized to use waterboarding if necessary.

 

Tags:



Yep, looks like another post from the Big, Ugly Man Doll!