>Went to log on to my email account the other day and noticed this:
On a related note, I no longer want to see Madonna naked.
>Back when I had chest congestion and the only thing Google could help me with was whether or not I knew complex equations involving quantum mechanics, I decided to try my hand at the old standby:
Everyone knows that you don’t use the Internet to look up shit like “sniffles” because what will come back in the results is shit like “OH FUCK you have Ebola” or “it’s obviously syphilis, you hideous crack whore” but I figured I’d give it a shot because this technology has to have gotten better, right?
Here’s what came up when I picked ‘nasal congestion’ as my symptom:
Personally, I’d take the “crack whore” insult over being the incurable victim of what is, apparently, a deliberate terrorist attack using castor beans.
Way to encourage me to up my Xanax prescription, assholes.
This is when I realize that WebMD changed their format so you could just plug in any combination of symptoms and they tailor the results so I just started randomly picking some stuff to see how ridiculous things got.
“I’ve been lifting heavy weights for, like, 3 years now and for some reason I have muscle growth.”
“Dude. Don’t fuck around with that shit. You need to see a doctor or at least look that up on the Internet. The longer you wait, the more muscular you’ll probably get.”
Maybe I’m underestimating the effects of narcotics, but I’m pretty sure that if you take Ecstasy and the Ecstasy makes you giddy, the fact that you’re giddy is – in all likelihood – THE FACT THAT YOU TOOK ECSTASY.
Either that, or you’re bipolar. Now you know.
Stop yelling and laughing at me.
I know you’re all thinking the same thing I am which is, “My GOD. How do you look so good, Rodney?” but I think the bigger question here is, “What the Christ is a ‘Jumping Frenchman?'”
Of course if you Google this crap you come up with this:
I’m pretty sure if you were dancing and a French guy landed on your face you’d not only be fully aware of this but would also have a tough time seeing the computer to go on WebMd in the first place so I checked their glossary instead.
Turns out this is some weird mental disorder and has nothing to do with ballet dancers sitting on your face.
Talk about hitting home.
I’m looking at these conditions, though, and none of them seem right. Maybe with some editing…
Still doesn’t explain my friggin’ sniffles, though.
Anyone want some castor beans?
>Right before the kids and I walk into my one-bedroom shithole apartment and smell the wondrous odors filling the hallway of whatever rodent/stray animal my neighbors are obviously broiling in a steaming pot of piss, and listen to the beautiful cacaphony of sounds known as ‘people screaming in Spanish,’ we take a moment to soak in the fresh night air and look up at the heavens above.
After I finish crying and saying “WHY?!” over and over again, I take the time to point out some of the constellations to my kids.
When you have no money, this counts as ‘entertainment.’
Right above us is Orion.
It’s now painfully obvious to me that the Greeks were probably spiking their baklava while shoving olives in their eyes because if I was to name this constellation based on what I saw it would be less ‘fearsome valiant hunter’ and more ‘hot broad in a sleeveless summer sundress.’
ROLL THE TAPE!
LEO THE LION
Ah. Leo the Lion.
Not so majestic.
Somehow, though, still kind of fearsome.
Because if ‘two somewhat adjacent dots in the night sky’ screams anything to me it’s ‘dog.’
Fine. I can play that way, too.
Now I will never go to sleep again.
IT’S TIME FOR INTERMISSION!!
Found this picture in my house that my son drew:
I have no idea but I thought it was appropriate being a picture of a star (I think) and this post about constellations and – believe it or not – there are TONS OF ANGRY STAR PHOTOS AROUND MY APARTMENT.
I fear him.
Just to be fair, here’s something my daughter drew of the stuff on my kitchen table:
On the bright side, at least the shit on my table isn’t angry like my son’s star.
So when I was Googling ‘Gemini’ I kept coming up with pictures that I couldn’t tell if they were boys and girls so I’m going to assume they’re both sexes.
Kind of like Ru Paul.
Either way..I don’t know how you get two people out of that.
King Kong would look up at that and want to climb that shit.
Here’s what I got:
Pam Anderson has climbed that shit.
Also gives new meaning to ‘wishing upon a star’ although, I’m sure for Tommy Lee, it really doesn’t matter who you are.
This brings up the obvious question:
What’s oral sex called for stars? Constellatio?
Y a crab?
I like this better:
And JUST LIKE THAT the Gemini Twins are resurrected and we finally get an answer – once and for all – whether they’re male or female.
I think these apartment odors are fucking with me. I should go outside and get me some fresh night air.
>Before all the men and women out there start freaking out that I’m about to post the pictures of their vaginas and penises and (not respectively…in most instances) and – in some cases – weird monkey fetishes let me be clear that I’m NOT going to do that because I download that shit to my computer as soon as I get it and/or print it out to make a tasteful-yet-functional masturbatory mobile that hangs over my toilet (Patent Pending).
Perhaps I’ve said too much.
This is about my new phone which has a touch screen and a ‘drawing’ program which my kids have somehow found and…
..here’s what I find on my phone.
I open the drawing program because I needed to draw a penis I think (I can’t remember day-to-day) and realize that there are NINE DRAWINGS on my phone that I did not do…and not a single one of a penis.
1) I’M NUMBER ONE!
I look at the first drawing:
#1 Dad who lets his kids go through his phone apparently without his knowledge because “Good Parenting = Ignoring your children” and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD KIDS PLEASE DO NOT GO THROUGH MY PICTURES OR VIDEOS.
I need to lock that friggin’ thing.
2) Peace Out
The next one I come across is this one:
Yay. Yay for peace.
I’m a Republican so coming across this type of shit just pisses me off.
3) Enter the Comedian
Next up is one from my son:
I’m impressed with what he did here because he was able to combine math, art and comedy all in one fell swoop.
Kind of like how Hitler did it but with less math, comedy and art and more, you know, genocide.
So I guess nothing like Hitler AT ALL.
Speaking of disturbing shit…
4) WHAT. THE. HELL
So I continue to scroll through my pictures when..
So it was kind of like, “Oh look daddy YOU’RE #1! and we should celebrate world peace with maybe some silly humor but DON’T TURN YOUR BACK DOUCHE OR WE WILL KILL YOU KILL YOU KILL YOU DEAD AND THE LAKES WILL TURN RED WITH YOUR BLOOD.“
*delete *delete *delete
While I’m at it, I’m getting rid of the pictures and videos, too.
You can all breathe a sigh of relief now.
Glad someone can.