Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Great. Holidays were good for you, I hope.

Happy the New Year!

Dog Massages?

$130? Are you serious? Or $220 for the in-room massage, with biscuits? There are escorts cheaper than that. And they are for humans. Even if you have ridiculous amounts of cash, that is just raddichio. Just wake up every day and shove a $50 up your dog's ass. He won't know the difference. Try petting your dog once in awhile, it's free and you'll have all that extra cash to pay for your kid's therapy.

That'll be $4,ooo.


Mean kids. Seventh grade. Art class. I was sitting at a desk with two other guys. One of them was named Justin, and the other was named Mike. They didn't like me at all. One particular time stands out to me illustrating just how hilariously nasty kids can be.

We were making rubber stamps of something, and Justin turned to me and was like "I fucked your Mom". Justin was always trying to be so cool in front of Mike, so he would constantly initiate these conversations. He was greasy. His hair was dark and wet. His face was so moist and his eyes were consistently half-shut. "I fucked your Mom". I had enough.

So I was like "my mom is dead". She wasn't and isn't, but I just thought for some reason he would feel, I don't know, terrible about himself. "My mom is dead" . I thought that would have ended to bullying for awhile and we could go back to making rubber stamps. Just then Mike lifts up his head and says "she's dead because we fucked her so hard".

Hilarious. It was as if he called my bluff. He was like "I call your mom is dead, and I raise you us fucking her to death". Clearly I lost the hand. What could I say? I lied. I couldn't follow that up with a punch. My Mom was fine. In fact, I should have never said that. Right?

Happy New Year. My Mom is fine.

Not my mom. But I know you still want to fuck her.