Mathematics
by riley
2008-06-30 14:39:35 PDT
+
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No sleep, no sun, leaving work early, go ahead and fire me it's just more time for the important things.
Another Winnipeg/Girl/Poop Story
by riley
2008-04-25 18:56:24 PDT
I went to a "cheesecake party" once when I lived in Winnipeg because there was a girl there I was trying to put the mack on, unfortunately forgetting that I am totally incapable of macking on anything other than foods. 'Sup burger, you wanna, I dunno, get eaten ?I was a vegan at the time and had made a vegan "cheese"cake (shut up), and it turned out pretty well all things considered. Since I was a vegan I ate mine and one of the other vegan ones some lady brought (mine was better, ho) and was drinking Pepsi because I was a vegan for health reasons. So me and my buddy were there for a while and I was kind of half-chatting with this girl I had a boner for, then her boyfriend shows up and I was like, man fuck you for existing. But he didn't care, he had a hot girlfriend.
So I was sick of staring longingly at girls and cheesecake I couldn't put my mouth on, so I peaced out that scene. As I was walking home my stomach started grumbling. At first it was just a gentle motion, like a mother rocking a baby to sleep, but it quickly gained momentum like a baby who refuses to sleep getting a vicious shaking. I started farting, but the end of the farts were barbed with shit like a fecal scorpion tail, and I would have to clench suddenly. They came with more frequency and urgency and the farts got shorter and shorter before spiking out my shitometer. I was maybe two blocks from home and I tried running but made it two houses before my sphincter fluttered like a butterfly trying desperately but in futility to escape out of the jaws of a lion.
I wasn't going to make it.
I was on a dark street in between street lights and I had no choice. I ducked into the yard I was in front of, squatted between a tree and the darkness of the house, and let loose the blackest, vilest, most explosive spray my ass has ever released. It was painful but at least it was over quickly, and frankly I couldn't sit around and risk getting caught befouling this stranger's lawn not three minutes from my home. I realized, however, that my ass wasn't going to clean itself, but being the dead of February I didn't really have a lot of wiping material. So I yanked my pants and gonch off faster than lightning, got my ass as clean as possible with my underoos, and threw them on my still steaming waste.
"Sorry. Really." I whispered at the house's unknowing occupants, and shamefully hurried for home with a gurgling stomach, no woman and a shit-caked ass.
Bad Hummus Brings Out Bad Nature
by riley
2008-04-16 17:05:36 PDT
When I was a younger fellow living in Winnipeg, I was seeing this girl who cooked frequently, but rarely well. I had a habit of touching up the spices once I had mine served, which she thought was impolite I think but if you're the type to get upset every time someone puts salt and pepper on their food chances are your relationships might end up riddled with problems. Easy for me to criticize other people's problems though, as evidenced by how often I do it.
So anyways. One night I go over to her place and there was a bowl of hummus on the counter. She was in the other room and I figures to myself, I says, "What the hell ?" and grab one of her baby carrots and tried the hummus.
And promptly spit it out. I literally spit it on the floor. My face completely rejected it and ejected it immediately. It was awful-- it was like she had mixed chickpeas, tahini and stagnant water together and figured "hey ! hummus is easy !"
"This will not be forgiven," I moaned in a voice not entirely my own.
I found some lemon juice in her fridge and some salt and mixed some of each into the disgustipaste, then, seeing as I couldn't rightly get out the food processor and get real garlic into it, I raided her spice cabinet and found some garlic powder.
I should interject here and insist I would not now do something of this nature, and thinking back I really don't think I would normally have done it then either. I would absolutely fix up the portion of food I was going to eat but to say "no you made it wrong for your tastes." ?? No. I see how gross that is, spiritually. But something nasty and ugly was awakened deep within me by that horrible mouthful of nonfood. It was like the saliva-coated hummus on the floor started chanting in a forgotten tongue and the Cthulfood of my spirit opened his malevolent eyes and turned his gaze and directed his fury on what had disturbed his slumber.
I was dissatisfied with using powdered garlic but I was without alternatives. I was a feral, snarling beast cornered by this abomination, this Kafkan nightmare vision of consumption.
I took the lid off and blindly poured but nothing came out. It was solidified into an unusable (but desperately needed) garlicball. "Oh fuck all of that !" I declared, pulled off the top, got a butter knife, and stabbed that motherfucker apart into some semblance of powdered rationality. I ignored the low note that sounded when I put the shaker top back on the jar, then poured again.
The shaker top and the entire garlicontents emptied onto the moist ball of hummus. I'd fucked up putting the top back on. I started scrambling, trying to brush it off but the powder was already fusing to a paste on top of the hummus. I panicked and tried running water over it but that only succeeded in worsening the nature of the original mess.
"Fuck. Fuck. FuckwhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo..." there was no way to explain this. "Hey your food preparation sucks. I tried to fix it but fucked it up; now you have no food. You want to have the long miserable breakup talk, or should I just go ?" I wished that I knew who Gordon Ramsey was so I could wish he did housecalls.
Inspiration came from a deep, evil voice within. "A simple accident..." it boomed in my head.
Kill my girlfriend ? That seemed excessive, and having to deal with the law over some shitty hummus ? Then again, this was PHENOMENALLY shitty hummus...
"A SIMPLER accident," it boomed, annoyed. "Retard." it added.
I got it.
SMASH !!! went the bowl of hummus on the floor.
"Oh no, what happened ??" my girlfriend came yelling out of her bedroom.
"Just an accident." I mumbled sheepishly. In a dark place inside me, Cthulfood closed its eyes and returned to sleep.
R. Kelly Receives a Visit From That Po-lice
by riley
2008-03-13 14:55:58 PDT
Frame of reference:
R Kelly: Sorry you had to come down here for this officer, I do believe she tweakin.
You see Officer, the only thing I was trying to extablish with her was not WHO was right or wrong, but in fact, WHAT is right and wrong.
Yes sir, I have heard that referred to as real talk.
Officer1 {shuffling papers}: Mr. Kelly, her report clearly states that her friend say she saw you at a club wit some otha bitches. Were you sittin in VIP ?
R Kelly: Yes officer, we had a very nice time smoking and drinking, and otherwise kickin it, but did her report also mention that there were other guys there ? Were there other guys in the report ? Then perhaps you can tell me this, huh. Indeed how exactly the fuck she know I was with them otha girrrrrls then ? As I told your partner, the whole club was packed.
Officer2: Mr. Kelly, if what they eat does NOT in fact make you shit, perhaps you’d like to explain to my partner and I here what DOES make you shit. We can have this conversation downtown, you know.
R. Kelly: Now wait just a minute, let me finish what I got ta say !! I believe if you look at the facts here, you’ll see that if I try to have a good time, I will be immediately accused of some ol booshit. "Robert I heard you did this, Kels I heard you did that." Now, what do you suppose that is ? Does she think I perhaps don’t have enough booshit on my mind ?
{Aside}
Officer1: We’ll have to get Mr. Kelly’s mamma’s statement as well, seems there was an unscreened call placed to Mrs. Kelly during the incident. You know, off the record Bill, I hope she watched her mouth during that conversation.
Officer2: I hear you John. Did you happen to catch a glimpse of her hair, toes, and nails ? She must have gotten them done jus d’otha day.
Officer1: Yeah I saw that. I can only imagine the smile that must have been on her ass then.
{/Aside}
Officer1: How long have you been with her, Mr. Kelly ? ...may I call you Kels ? How long have you been with her, Kels ?
R. Kelly: I believe the real issue here is not that we been togetha fie year but that she is listening to her mufuckin girlfriends. To be totally honest officer, I don’t know why it is that she fuck wit dem jealous no man havin assholes anyway.
Yes now that you mention it, I have heard that referred to as real talk at times as well.
Officer2: Have you considered the possibility of her becoming horny and fucking one of her funky-assed friends ?
R. Kelly: Hell, you know, between you and me officer, she probably already doin that shit anyway. Honestly that shouldn’t surprise you-- after all, you are down here because she burned my mufuckin cloOoOothes.
Officer2: I’m sorry Mr. Kelly, but in her statement she clearly says that you requested she do that.
R. Kelly: You bogus officer.
Thanks for help to Geoff Pisscubes.
Sick Burn Dude
by riley
2007-11-12 15:24:39 PDT
I heard that tanning can help with seasonal depression. So, having never used a tanning booth I figured twenty minutes would be a good start, twenty minutes in the sun would probably not have an effect on me but these are a little more powerful right ? So that night I was like "Hey I've got a bit of colour, awesome ! I'm going to do that again tomorrow !"
Well turns out colourblindness and thinking "hey a bit of colour !" isn't the best mix when reds are involved. My boss told me "I don't know if I've ever seen a burn that bad."
The Jesus
"could i get a little more guitar in the monitor? ...thanks."