Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Fine Art

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Tag! She's It, Bitches.

That bad girl in black over at About the Girl tagged Anonymous with this meme but wisely assigned the actual work to Anon's hypercompetent staff. Since one of Stephanie's tagees declined, we'll tag him again and then ghostwrite for him too. Anon has nothing on the devil and so cannot afford to go around breaking the meme chains upon which an orderly universe truly rests.

The rules:
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on the blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post.
5. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Six random things about her:

1. Anonymous has never owned a comb or a brush. This is a proven fact and not just some shit I made up to fill space.

2. She sleeps all blissed out with a life size poster of Justin Timberlake hanging on the ceiling above her bed. Justin Timberlake is totally fair game for old chicks, having pranced across sportscars with Madonna and sexually assaulted Janet at the Superbowl only to let her take the blame.

3. Anonymous secretly uses voodoo to give people anxiety attacks. Then she pretends to be there to help them feel better.

4. If I am She Who Will Not Be Denied, then Anonymous has a Magical Kitty to put the boys back together again. However, if I'm just another latte-sipping, sushi-eating, narcissistic faux-green, she's a chick with a pretty good job and big boobs.

5. Anonymous invented the internet to help keep geeks off the street. You should be thanking her.

6. She is the last of the final five cylons. And she shot Tony Soprano.

And now in the name of all that is good and fair, we pass along the love:


Saturday, July 26, 2008

What Kind of Burglar is Stealthy and Agile?

Here's a clue: it's not about cats.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Kitteh in Boobs is an Internet Tradition, No?

You Probably Got this Joke from Her Too

One day a guy dies and finds himself in hell. As he is wallowing in despair, he has his first meeting with the devil.
Satan: 'Why so glum?'
Guy: 'What do you think? I'm in hell!'
Satan: 'Hell's not so bad. We actually have a lot of fun down here. You a drinking man?'
Guy: 'Sure, I love to drink.'
Satan: 'Well, you're gonna love Mondays then. On Mondays, that's all we do is drink. Whiskey, tequila, Guinness, wine coolers, Tab, and Fresca. We drink 'til we throw up, and then we drink some more! And you don't have to worry about getting a hangover, because you're dead anyway.'
Guy: 'Gee! That sounds great!'
Satan: 'You a smoker?'
Guy: 'You better believe it'
Satan: 'All right! You're gonna love Tuesdays! We get the finest cigars from all over the world, and smoke ou r lungs out. If y ou get cancer - no biggie, you're already dead, remember?'
Guy: 'Wow...that's awesome!'
Satan: 'I bet you like to gamble.'
Guy: 'Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I do.'
Satan: 'Good, because Wednesdays you can gamble all you want. Craps, Blackjack, roulette, poker, slots, whatever. If you go bankrupt, it doesn't matter, you're dead anyhow.'
Guy: 'Cool!'
Satan: 'What about drugs?'
Guy: 'Are you kidding? Love drugs! You don't mean...?'
Satan: 'That's right! Thursday is drug day. Help yourself to a great big bowl of crack or smack. Smoke a doobie the size of a submarine. You can do all the drugs you want. You're dead, so who cares.'
Guy: 'Wow! I never realized Hell was such a cool place!'
Satan: 'You gay?'
Guy: 'No...'
Satan: 'Oooo, Fridays are gonna be tough!!!!!!'

Friday, June 6, 2008

For the Complaining Whiny Baby

Anonymous (or perhaps "Anonymous") is bitching about the lack of content on her blog. Her ghostwriter has been away for a long time dealing with important shit like hair color and turbokick, but apparently she can't wait around for something to happen on "her" blog. So I'll just post a bunch of crap, and she can start a fight with someone in the comments.

The following are entries to a contest by The Washington Post, in which respondents had to write a two-line romantic poem...except that the last line had to be as un-romantic as the first line was romantic.

1. My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife;
Marrying you screwed up my life.

2. I see your face when I am dreaming.
That's why I always wake up screaming.

3. Kind, intelligent, loving and hot;
This describes everything you are not.

4. Love may be beau tiful, love may be bliss,
But I only slept with you because I was pissed.

5. I thought that I could love no other
That is, until I met your brother.

6. Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you
But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead, the sugar bowl's empty, and so is your head.

7. I want to feel your sweet embrace
But don't take that paper bag off your face.

8. I love your smile, your face, and your eyes
Damn, I'm good at telling lies!

9. My love, you take my breath away.
What have you stepped in to smell this way?

10. My feelings for you no words can tell,
Except for maybe "Go to hell."

11. What inspired this amorous rhyme?
Two parts vodka, one part lime.

The chicken crossed the road because it was time for a CHANGE! The chicken
wanted CHANGE!

My friends, that chicken crossed the road because he recognized the need to
engage in cooperation and dialogue wit h all the chickens on the other side
of the road!

When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken to cross the
road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure -- right from
Day One! -- that every chicken in this country gets the chance it deserves
to cross the road. But then, this really isn't about me.......

The problem we have here is that this chicken won't realize that he must
first deal with the problem on 'THIS' side of the road before it goes after
the problem on the 'OTHER SIDE' of the road. What we need to do is help him
realize how stupid he's acting by not taking on his 'CURRENT' problems
before adding 'NEW' problems.

Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he
wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from
his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I'm going to give this
chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his
life like the rest of the chickens.

We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know
if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken is either
against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.

Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image of
the chicken crossing the road..

We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been
allowed to have access to the other side of the road.

Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it! It
was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken's
intentions. I am not for it now, and will remain against it.

That chicken crossed the road because he's GUILTY! You can see it in his
eyes and the way he walks.

To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.

No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a
standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped
to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.

Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the
chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I've not been told.

To die in the rain. Alone.

Because the chicken was gay! Can't you people see the plain truth?' That's
why they call it the 'other side.' Yes, my friends, that chicken is gay.
And if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott all
chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media white
washes with seemingly harmless phrases like 'the other side. That chicken
should not be crossing the road. It's as plain and as simple as that.

In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us
the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.

Isn't that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the
chicken tell, for the first time, the
heart warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and
went on to accomplish its life long dream of crossing the road.

It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together , in peace.

I have just released eChicken2007, which will not only cross roads, but will
lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your check book.
Internet Explorer is an integral part of the Chicken. This new platform is
much more stable and will never crash...#@&&^(C% ......... reboot.

Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the

I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What is your definition of

I invented the chicken!

Did I miss one?

Where's my gun!

Why are all the chickens white? We need some black chickens.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Easter Pr0n!

You dirty dirty girl.

Monday, March 10, 2008

I'm Pretty Sure Don was Asking about This Just the Other Day


NAME OF OFFENDER - ___________________________
INFRACTION DATE - _____________________________


[ ]Playing loudly during warm up $10
[ ]Sound-checking amp with funk slapping $25
[ ]Loud cursing after mistake $10
[ ]Playing high and fast after mistake $20
[ ]Practicing 2-handed tapping between tunes $20
[ ]Asking for "E" tuning note $25
[ ]Playing E anyway when horns tune to Bb $50
[ ]Playing written-out walking line $50
[ ]Failure to play written walking line $75
[ ]Writing note names over ledger-line notes $50
[ ]Writing beat numbers under dotted figures $50
[ ]Playing eighth notes $5 each
[ ]Playing sixteenth notes $10 each
[ ]Playing above 1st octave immediate dismissal
[ ]Dragging fast tempo $75
[ ]Dragging ballad tempo $100
[ ]Blacking out during ballad $200
[ ]Ignoring drummer's tempo $100
[ ]Following drummer's tempo $250
[ ]Asking to borrow Real Book for All Of Me $1000


[ ]Showing up before first downbeat $25
[ ]Playing audibly $25
[ ]Faking changes $25
[ ]Slapping $150
[ ]Missing tutti lick, then mentioning vintage of bass $25
[ ]Excessive sweating $25
[ ]Pedal point double-stops during horn solo $50
[ ]Asking leader for a solo $30
[ ]Accepting solo when offered $50
[ ]Taking second chorus $100
[ ]Playing solo arco $400
[ ]Pretending to check tuning after playing out of tune $100
[ ]Playing "A Train" ending on every tune $200
[ ]Playing extended "A Train" ending on every tune $500


[ ]Checking hair between tunes $15
[ ]Experimenting with odd meters $25
[ ]Missing root at end of blistering fill $25
[ ]Playing with a pick $50
[ ]Tuning during ballad $30
[ ]Playing Jaco groove on samba $75
[ ]Playing Jaco samba groove on ballad $150
[ ]Attempting last word on final chord $50
[ ]Achieving last word on final chord $100
[ ]Long gliss down to final note $200


[ ]Forgetting strap $10
[ ]Changing strings after every set $15
[ ]Using electric tuner $15
[ ]Setting up mic "just in case" $75
[ ]Forgetting to turn amp on $40
[ ]Bringing amp larger than 1 person can carry in 1 trip $50
[ ]Asking horn player for help moving amp $25
[ ]Bringing custom-made bass $100 per string above 4
[ ]Bringing more than 1 bass $100 per extra bass
[ ]Skull decals on bass $150
[ ]Bringing fretless bass $500


[ ]Telling bone player about all the gigs you get $10
[ ]Asking bone player about their day gig $10
[ ]Sitting behind drums on break $10
[ ]Quoting "Birdland" $25
[ ]Practicing scales during break $25
[ ]Practicing scales during drum solo $50
[ ]Practicing $150
[ ]Beginning a sentence with "When I was a guitar player..." $50
[ ]Casually mentioning to Musical Director of cheap theater that you are "into sequencing" $10


[ ]Wearing old Buddy Rich tour shirt $10
[ ]Wearing new Whitesnake tour shirt $20
[ ]Asking when the rock set starts $20
[ ]Continually asking "where are we?" $25
[ ]Continually shouting "Yeah!" $25
[ ]Asking bone player where "1" is $50
[ ]Taking cellphone call during 4's $100

Saturday, March 8, 2008

She's on a Roll

A mindreader is at a nightclub one night and decides to give a small demonstration of her abilities.

First, she reads the mind of the lead guitarist: "Wow, look at all the cute chicks who showed up tonight! Good crowd!"

Then the drummer: "Lots of people showed up tonight...Great! we're going to make good money tonight"

Then the Keyboard player: "All three of these guys have no appreciation of my talent...What a bunch of losers"

Finally, the Bass player: "C...G...C...G..."

Friday, March 7, 2008

Where Does She Find this Stuff?

C, E-flat and G go into a bar. The bartender says, "Sorry, we don't serve minors," and E-flat leaves. C and G have an open fifth between them and after a few drinks, G is out flat. F comes in and tries to augment the situation, but is not sharp enough. D comes into the bar and heads straight for the bathroom saying, "Excuse me, I'll just be a second."

A comes into the bar, but the bartender is not convinced that this relative of C is not a minor and sends him out. Then the bartender notices a B-flat hiding at the end of the bar and shouts, "Get out now. You're the seventh minor I've found in this bar tonight."

Next night, E-flat, not easily deflated, comes into the bar in a 3-piece suit with nicely shined shoes. The bartender (who used to have a nice corporate job until his company downsized) says: "You're looking pretty sharp tonight. Come on in. This could be a major development." And in fact, E-flat takes off his suit and everything else and stands there au naturel. Eventually, C, who had passed out under the bar the night before, begins to sober up and realizes in horror that he's under a rest.

So, C goes to trial, is convicted of contributing to the diminution of a minor and sentenced to 10 years of DS without Coda at an up scale correctional facility. The conviction is overturned on appeal, however, and C is found innocent of any wrongdoing, even accidental, and that all accusations to the contrary are bassless.

The bartender decides, however, that since he's only had tenor so patrons, the soprano out in the bathroom and everything has become alto much treble, he needs a rest and closes the bar.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Stephanie's Going to Kick Your Ass

And I'm going to help her.

Kick It, Kick It Good

Feeling late for the party, Anonymous? ALL the hot chix are doing it, so where the hell are you?

Monday, March 3, 2008

Perfect Pair

Yeah, I heard you complaining over on the BP blog. These would go really great with your pink camo hi-tops, which incidentally do feel so good on my shoulders in the morning.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

It just seems like a lot of the problems Anonymous is struggling with have already been solved by SCIENCE. Let me know if I'm totally wrong about this.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Is the Writer's Strike Really Over?

Means I gotta get off my butt now and tell on Anonymous again.

Give me a minute.

I think she's still slutty, and I heard she was kickboxing with Stephanie, but no one will go kickboxing with me. Do I really smell that bad?

Thursday, January 24, 2008

The Waiting is not the Hardest Part

The writers' strike sure is taking a toll on this blog. Will it ever end? Meanwhile, we immerse ourselves in kickboxing.

Thursday, January 3, 2008


I hope everyone had a safe and sorry New Year's Eve!

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Thursday, December 27, 2007

It's Mandatory

Has Everyone Finished Figuring this Crap Out?

Math quiz

Sometimes I Can't Tell the Difference Between this Twelve Year Old and Anonymous

Can you?

What If

If I drink all this stuff, will it kill me or just remind me how *fun it is to get drunk?