Conversation Hogs Really Stink

Boys and girls of the class, raise your hand if you find it not quite so funny when a friend, associate or even someone you couldn’t care any less about seems to work their personal problems into a conversation with you, in hopes that you’d ask them what’s wrong.  

This act is done by a lot of people and overlooked by many.  It goes unnoticed because it’s one of those things no one actually stops to pay attention to, needless to say except the person who keeps working their issues into the convo.  The subtle remarks are carefully inserted into related [and sometimes unrelated] subject matters and seemingly come out of nowhere, yet make the biggest silent impact on the person who’s forced to hear it and care even less than they did when the situation remained cohort.    

This may come as a shock to some, but the truth of the matter is more people than you’d think could give a sh*t about your problems because everyone on the planet has problems of their own, so if no one asks you what’s wrong after the fiftieth time you’ve griped about your uninteresting predicament, it’s pretty much common knowledge that no one really cares.  Stop imposing and stop whining.  Just stop because the person you’re buzzing up has long since stopped listening.  The only person who can get away with speaking without actually saying anything is the teacher on “Charlie Brown,” and after a while even a viewer changes the channel.  

If you want someone to know what the hell’s going on with you, tell them.  Don’t beat around the bush.  Don’t drop not-so-subtle hints.  Don’t be slick with it.  Most people aren’t going to jump into your business willingly and consciously because they don’t want to be blamed for any dumb decisions you make. Most people aren’t going to comment on your issues because you’ve probably spit out the answers to your own questions anyway.  Most people are probably going to look straight through you in an effort to see the nearest “Exit” sign hanging somewhere behind you.  However if you’re not careful, one day you’re going to come up against someone that isn’t like most people.  And that person will willingly listen to you gloat about the stupidity and/or humdrum that is your life and will turn around and do one or all of the following:  (1) Tell you the truth – something you probably don’t want to hear; (2) Tell you, “so what?” – something else that you probably don’t want to hear; or (3) Tell any and everyone all about your business – and in case you didn’t know, your dirt sounds way more interesting coming from someone who isn’t you. The problem is words get twisted when they are spoken from someone else’s lips.  But because you insist on monopolizing an unwarranted conversation with someone who blatantly doesn’t give a rat’s ass, that’s just the price you have to pay.  Whether you learn a lesson or not isn’t anyone else’s problem but your own.  On the other hand as we stay true to the subject of this post, that last statement goes in one ear and right out of the other.  

If I were to tell you that 90% of any effort is getting started, I’d most likely be referring to you learning when to shut up. 

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Quote of the week:  “Some people talk a whole lot about nothing because it’s the only thing they know anything about.” 

Refresher Course: What Not To Do on a First Date

In this day and age, dating has become more difficult than ever, well with all the games that  people play and the stipulations for the potentialities of the dates themselves.  Some people are hopeful while others bear all on chance, luck and booze.  But if you ask me, no matter how dry your well is or how hot your crotch may be, there should still be some limitations on what should and shouldn’t be considered acceptable “dating” behavior, especially when referring to the dreaded first date. 

Today we are not going to focus on all the right things that should take place during a first date.  It’s too mushy and not as much as fun as pin-pointing all the wrong and bad sh!t that can and more often than not goes wrong.  We’ve discussed first date rules before, however during my course of eavesdropping on conversations at a few dine-in establishments over the last few weeks, I’ve concluded that a ball park figure of about five gazillion daters need to be reminded of what not to do on a first date.  I understand that there may be some that asks who am I say?  Quite frankly, responding in my best Rick James voice, “I’m Hottywood, bitch!” 

Rule #1: Don’t show up for a first date showing too much.  I’m not going to spend too much time focusing on this because I’m sure all you bright citizens (and illegal aliens – the rules of dating apply to all who ultimately wants to get laid one day or one way or another) know what the hell I mean. 

Ladies, don’t show too much cleavage (that includes back cleavage), legs (especially if your date is the size of Professor Clump, because he may mistake them for drum sticks and may possibly try to eat you using a pitch fork, a butter knife and the nearest bottle of hot sauce), forehead zits (for obvious reasons) or wear too much makeup (think Ronald McDonald or the creepy little puppet from all the Saw movies.  Your bad makeup job will be the first thing your date sees and the last thing they remember, causing you to be the punch line of all their jokes as they tell their friends what a disaster you were your date was).  Doing any of these things will change your date’s perspective of you, causing him/her to think you’re cheap, horny, greasy, a piece of meat or an extra in a rural area carnival side show.  Don’t get me wrong, ladies.  By all means, please tease!  You want to give your date something to look forward to.  Just be careful not to serve it all on a platter before time of the main course.  Everyone knows all things don’t taste as good as they smell.  

Fellas, don’t show too much chest hair (old school pimp status), man boobs (no chick wants a man who has to buy and wear more bras than she does), ding ding prints (proves that your pants are too tight and may result in your Johnson not working right and causes your manhood to stink like rotten ketchup), belly button rings, tongue piercings or toe rings (are all gay and looks stupid on a man and if you wear them you should have a drink thrown in your face and never be allowed to date again).  

Rule #2: Lose the cell phone for a while.  It’s not a good look to give the illusion that you are more important than you are, especially when the person you’re breaking bread with doesn’t know enough about you to care.  It makes you look like you’re eager to show that you have friends or overly proud that you just bought a new cell phone.  It’s also rude and indicates that the person you’re communicating with over the phone warrants your attention more than the person you’re communicating with over the table.  If that’s the case then you made the date with the wrong person and you need to take your ass back home and try again and hope like hell they don’t do the same thing to you. Also cell phone frequencies slowly causes cancer and makes your appetizer course taste funny. 

Rule #3: Tongue kissing on a first date is a no-no!  Let’s be honest, nobody knows where the hell your lips have been, much less your tongue.  Halitosis may be an issue.  Gum disease could be a problem.  You wouldn’t get punched in the teeth for forgetting your dentures, obviously but you could still get decked some place else unless you forget your false stomach or your silicone forehead.  Try a kiss on a cheek (the face, not the ass).  It’s safer.  You even want to be careful kissing someone on their hand because if no one ever told you, people do some strange things with their hands. 

Rule #4: Don’t reveal too much personal information.  Under any circumstances do you ever want to reveal too much about yourself too soon.  Very rarely do you get a second chance to make a first impression.  Do not bring up your money problems because they imply that you are either cheap, broke, a closeted bank robber or an excessive gambler.  Don’t talk about any past relationships because it will lead your date down a path of searching for reasons [through your words and actions during the remaining moments of your get-together] of why your ass is single now.  Don’t talk about your sex life.  That’s an instant buzz kill simply because there are so many red flags attached.  For example, when you talk about your past love life, you look horny, desperate, prostitutish, and often times not hot enough for anyone to believe that you’ve gotten the ass you’re boasting about.  If you must bore your potential companion with a serious case of TMI, make sure it isn’t until the liquor bottle is half empty, that way you can blame your diarrhea of the mouth on the booze and your date will more likely appreciate being drunk so they don’t have to comprehend what you’re actually saying.

Rule #5: Last but not least, don’t spend any time blatantly advertising how attractive you are.  Let your date do that, otherwise you might as well strap a full length body mirror to the vacant seat at your dinner table.  Truth be told, anyone who thinks that much of their self isn’t worth thinking much about. 

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Quote of the week:  “People are like foreign foods.  Everything that smells good doesn’t taste good.”

The Self-Evaluation Quiz

SELF-EVALUATION QUIZ 

It’s never easy to accept that you have flaws, despite the flaws anyone may point out.  Luckily for you Hottywood Helps!  This little quiz will help you to realize that your ass is not as perfect as you think.  Be warned that the truth hurts. But in the end, hurt never felt so good; although in this case it might.  

When do you feel your best? 

  1. When you find yourself hooked up to an IV full of coffee. 
  2. When you’re too drunk to know where the hell you are.
  3. When you’re nipples are hardest.
  4. When you’ve waken up in a strange bed after a drunken romp with a horny one-eyed stud muffin from a Kansas trailer park. 
  5. When someone boosts your ego.
  6. Never.  You’re the complete opposite of “life of the party.”  

When talking to people do you

  1. Spit?    
  2. Stare at boobs?
  3. Avoid eye contact?
  4. Blink excessively?
  5. Let your underarms do all the talking?
  6. None of the above. You never speak to anyone because people say you sound as if you have a moutful of caramel.    

When you go to a party or social gathering, do you 

  1. Sneak in the back door wearing criss-cross jeans and Shaq-brand tennis shoes from Payless or someplace even more cheap? 
  2. Make a loud and obnoxious entrance so everyone will have a legitimate reason to avoid you all night?  
  3. Announce the pee stain on your pants because you couldn’t find the bathroom.  
  4. French kiss all of the other guests after eating a bag of Funyons? 
  5. Fart out of the wrong end when you laugh uncontrollably?
  6. None of the above. You never get invited to parties.  

When you go out to eat in a public restaurant, do you   

  1. Chew with your mouth open because it’s more convenient to stuff more food down your throat while you’re still chewing what’s already in there?
  2. Belch without saying excuse me (…although there’s nothing wrong with that unless you’re a midget.  Then it’s just gross.)? 
  3. Order the most expensive meal on the menu knowing that you’re broke as shit?
  4. Accidentally forget to wear pants on purpose?
  5. Steal the utensils from the next table while the occupants are using them?
  6. None of the above. You’ve been banned from public eating establishments for reasons only known by you and God and your imaginary friends.  

When you are bored, do you  

  1. Make prank phone calls to old people and Chinese pet detectives?             
  2. Clean the lint out of your belly button?             
  3. Speak backwards while groping your private parts or the private parts of the person to whom you are speaking?
  4. Try to whistle at a frequency only dogs can hear (mother-in-laws and supervisors not included)?  
  5. Make plans with more than one person knowing damn well you don’t have enough gas in your car to make it pass the hooker on the corner at the top of the hill? 
  6. None of the above. With the all the voices in your head, you never get bored. 

40 Excuses To Get Out of Work

Everyone knows work is the playground for the game of life’s tricks. Written in just about every employee handbook across the nation is a clause that limits our toleration of deadlines, meeting changes and everyone’s last minute assignments but our own. Because of this taming of the shrew, we are paid not to get beside ourselves when burdens become too much to bear without the heavy use of profanity, a 2×4 plank and a shot of non-communion wine. No matter how large the paychecks or how great the incentives, it’s safe to say that there are some days where we just don’t feel like being bothered with the game, the playground or the players. So to beat game at its own game, you have got to be able to think quick on your feet and be a better bullshitter than it.  

The most common bullshit of them all is not minimizing your computer screen from the Solitaire game when your snoopy coworkers sneak into your cubicle. It is without question coming up with the best excuses to get out of work for the day.  

According to a popular employment recruiting site, about 41% of hiring managers are suspicious of their employee’s excuses for getting out of work. Outside of a little cold or minor car trouble, most excuses aren’t believable, they say. I say “horse pucky!” What do they know? If life throws its highest cards at you while you sit behind a desk working for a stiff in a name brand necktie, why the hell shouldn’t you get a little creative with your excuses not to deal? After all, it is a game and your boss and coworkers are all major players on the field. If you must play you might as well get a little gutter with it. They’re dicking you one way or another.  

Below are a few excuses that’ll help you cut your days at the office in half by 100%. Free free to use them at your leisure because although not being bothered is more than less than rare, having a good excuse not to fill a seat in the next departmental staff meeting trumps any card every time. Whether it’s believable or not is something the receiving ear has to take up with God.

 40 Excuses To Get Out of Work

  1. My bangs fell out and now I must to go buy some synthetic tresses or either a pack of extra thick eye brow hair to cover my big ass forehead.

  2. I’m renting a baby llama for my girlfriend’s niece’s best friend’s business partner’s cousin and I need to stay home to vacuum the poop from the front door foyer and tip the delivery man.

  3. I got my private parts stuck in the zipper of my pants and need immediate medical attention.

  4. At 3:00PM I’ve been scheduled to referee a pie fight between the Comcast and Verizon Fios cable men, since they both think their cable services are the best. The loser will come in next week to make up the hours that I’ve missed today.

  5. I ran over a squirrel while texting during an illegal street race with a blind man on a bike.

  6. The goldfish that I flushed this morning stopped up the toilet and now my cup runneth over.

  7. I have to go to the airport to pick up my French-Asian pen pal, Delicia Van Wu.

  8. My son beat up his teacher for taking his M&Ms during recess. The teacher threatened to have him expelled and now I have to go beat the teacher’s ass, myself.

  9. There is an embarrassingly foul odor coming from only one of my armpits and I am afraid to leave the house because the stench might kill the pigeons that built a nest over my garage door.

  10. I’m getting my butt hairs braided at the African hair gallery after lunch and will not be returning to the office. Ever.

  11. Today is the only day that I am available to read my daughter’s diary without her knowing.

  12. Today is National I Don’t Give a Fuck Day and I don’t give a fuck what you say, I will not be in the office at all.

  13. I have a mandatory meeting with all the voices in my head and two bill collectors.

  14. Someone told me that toenails can get long enough to scrape the ground. Now that my toenails have finally grown to an unbelievable length, I’d like to test the theory out for myself.

  15. My turrets syndrome of belching keeps flaring up.

  16. I’ve been meaning to return the library book that I borrowed back in the ninth grade. It’s slightly overdue by about eighteen years.

  17. I’m putting my great uncle in a rest home and I need to go visit his grave to see if he approves of the neighborhoods the homes are located in.

  18. My boyfriend just broke up with me and I have to go slash all the tires on his 10-speed bike. Training wheels included.

  19. My kotex string broke.

  20. I’m having man cramps.

  21. My neighbor’s daughter swallowed my cat’s hairball and now I must call a vet to get a referral to a doctor.

  22. I got laryngitis in my middle finger and will be unable to tell anyone to fuck off for three days.

  23. My car flipped over six times before hurling over the rail of the 5th Street Bridge. I’m calling from the bottom of the ocean. I probably won’t be in tomorrow either unless there is an express way from Heaven leading to the office.

  24. My grandmother ran out of glaucoma medicine and I have to stand on the corner and try to hustle a hustler into giving me a stash on credit. That could take all day.

  25. I have massive rug burns on my knees and am unable to walk. You’ll have to get your own damn cup of coffee today!

  26. I lost all my money playing bingo and now I don’t have any change to get on the bus.

  27. I’m stuck in the photo booth at Walmart.

  28. The dog ate my car keys. My wife at my car.

  29. A booty call stole my alarm clock while I was in the bathroom coming up with a good excuse not to come to work.

  30. I can’t find my shoes or my pet tarantula.

  31. There is a busload of Jehovah’s witnesses outside my door and I’m hiding under the couch until they go away. This may take a while.

  32. With all the boiled eggs I ate this morning I don’t want shit to hit the fan.

  33. My mother-in-law came to town for the weekend and got into a terrible accident. I have to take her to the hospital for emergency surgery to get the stick removed from her ass.

  34. My wife’s melons are sore from her recent breast implants and she needs me to stay home to massage them.

  35. I won’t be in the office today because I owe someone money and work is the first place they’ll look for me. Oops! You’re the one I owe money to.

  36. After reviewing my last paycheck, I suddenly became claustrophobic.

  37. Someone told me hard work doesn’t guarantee a successful win so I’m not going to waste my time today.

  38. I think my cocker-spaniel caught an STD from the neighborhood bitch and needs to be taken to the puppy clinic to get tested.

  39. I’m calling in blind cause I just don’t see it happening today.

  40. All my underwear have holes in them and I used the last bar of soap last night.

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Quote of the week:  “Conway’s Law: In any organization there will always be one person who knows what is going on – This person must be fired.”

You Can’t Move Up if Your Pants are Falling Down

A life without secrets is boring.  Shocking, I know…but true nonetheless.  Secrets build character and adds to the intrigue of a person.  They have a way of making you wonder what someone has to hide, therefore making that someone interesting.  Secrets are good and everyone should have at least one.  In fact, the mystique of a secret often leads to great unknown possibilities. 

However such is not the case for my peeps who insist on showing their ass. 

This one goes out to all my fellas; for the love of all mankind, “Pull yo’ damn pants up!”  

Fellas, what kind of opportunities do you think will open up to you if the best selling point about yourself is the type of underwear you buy?  If there’s anything you need to share with all the rest of the world the least, it should be your damn drawers.  

Now I consider myself to be an “in” kind of guy but we’ve gone from one extreme to another.  First it was those wretched skinny jeans.  Or as I like to call them, “straight jackets for legs.”  I thought we’d never get over that phase.    And now this?!  Seriously, 85% of men wear the same underwear for at least three days, anyway, before switching to a new pair.  So what’s the point?  Why does anyone feel a need to publically showcase their dirty unmentionables?  And more importantly, what the hell is so stylish about this? 

Is it really necessary to show the entire world your Fruit of the Looms, tighty whities or skid marks?  I have but only one word to say in response to this intimate issue that translates into a big, fat T.M.I. (Too Much Information).  And I think it’s safe to speak for everyone when I say, “Ugh.”  

Real talk, ya’ll.  Stop. 

I challenge you to remember this one little thing even if you never remember anything else for the rest of your days: 

“Never trust anyone who shows their ass before they show they face.”  

This just in… “Belts are not the enemy.”  It’s time to step outside the box and give them a try. 

TIDBIT ABOUT BELTS:

In modern times, men started wearing belts in the 1920s, as trouser waists fell to a lower line.  Before the 1920s, belts served mostly a decorative purpose, and were associated with the military.  Today it is common for men to wear a belt with their trousers.

Since the mid 1990s, the practice of sagging has been popular at times among young men and boys.  This fashion trend consists of wearing the trousers very low on the hips, often exposing the underwear and buttocks of the wearer.  This urban style, which has roots tracing to prison gangs and the prohibition of belts in prison (due to their use as weapons and devices for suicide) has remained popular into the 21st century, particularly among pubescent boys. 

So it kind of pisses me off to see old men walking around with their waist hems dropped to their knee caps, or young boys who may not grow up because they’re following the stupid fashion trend of letting their pants fall down.  

What is it about the concept of belts that is so difficult to grasp?  Belts represent power.  Think of a dad whooping some sense into his bad ass kid’s ass.  Not only does a belt represent power, it represents authority, control and style

Speaking of style, a belt is one of the first three things a person looks at in order to determine a man’s character, or to someone who’s completely shallow and materialistic, it determines a man’s physical attraction. 

After all, it is often said that the necktie, the belt and the shoes make all of the man. 

I don’t know where that saying came from.  Probably some chick.  But who cares?  Whatever keeps the underwear concealed works for me.  There are just some things one man doesn’t need to know about another, and one of those some things are his drawers.

A wise man once said, “If you reveal too much, you’re left with no secrets to keep.”

The bottom line, folks, is this:  As much as most people want to pretend it isn’t true, appearance is the first thing anyone sees when it comes to making a [premature] assessment about someone.  If the first thing seen is someone’s butt, then it’s easy to assume that either that person is an ass or their ass is the most interesting thing about them.  Some might beg to differ, but whoever does is probably just as much of an ass as the asshole that shows his ass before he shows his face.

The only opportunities that are going to open up for pants-saggers are chances to lay up with some jezebel who’s trying to find a baby daddy; get arrested by policemen who are patrolling to fill their arrest quotas for the week; and being approached by drug abusers who are looking for a new contact and quick fix.  And while we’re at it, let’s consider the image it sets for adolescents who mimic the stupidities of adults who should know how to set better examples for children, but don’t.     

Luck, life and anyone who isn’t getting royalty checks from the sales of rap records and sold out venues will tell you that you can’t move up in the world if your pants keep falling down.  That’s a sure way to get screwed in the end. 

FOR YOUR INFORMATION:

Belts aren’t the only thing that keeps your pants from falling.  Scotch tape, masking tape, duct tape, and even shoe strings can serve the same purpose as belts.  Homeless men are very inventive when it comes to keeping their pants up.  Want to know why?  The answer is simple.  Because they know that 90% of any effort is getting started. 

So fellas, I implore you to keep your skid marks to yourself.  There’s too many sh*tty things going on in this world to be bombarded by the sh*t that’s happening in your pants. 

RELATED ARTICLES:  A Nation Must Rise and Ban Together: Death to Skinny Jeans!

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Quote of the week:  “Never in the history of fashion has so little material been raised so high to reveal so much that needs to be covered so badly.”

What Part of Adolescent Behavior Should Teachers be Responsible For, Some or All?

First and foremost, let’s begin this post by warning anyone that doesn’t have a sense of humor to cease and desist immediately.  Ion’t need anyone hating on those of us with a few jokes in our hearts.  Real talk. 

Now if all minds are clear, we can begin. 

More times than a little bit, we are forced to be reminded of how bad our sweet little kids are – in the grocery store; during a meditational church prayer; inside a restaurant, a movie theater, or the laundromat.  And after we’ve hung our heads in shame, hidden under a table, rock or some fat lady’s dress, which is of course always the first thing we do from sheer embarrassment of raising such sweet-faced spawns of the devil, we pull out the Parents’ Handbook for Dummies: A Guide to Punishing Kids Who Couldn’t Care Less About Their Weak Ass Parents or Their Dumb Punishment Attempts.  Surely we know that this handbook is nothing more than a reminder of how blunderous we are as parents for not being able to get a grip on our kids in private and often more in public.  “No more to that,” I say!  In this new day and age the finger is no longer pointed at the ineffective parent!   

Stick with me while I explain.  

Once upon a time bad behavior could be blamed as the result of a timid housewife, an absentee father or even a poor environment of a child’s neighborhood.  But now that we’ve skated pass the 1950s, it’s time that we place blame somewhere else.  Let me ask you.  If [working] parents spend more time at work than they do at home, where do children spend most of their days?  No.  Not a juvenile detention center.  They spend all of their time at school, so naturally the first person to blame for the disruptive behavior of the child that no one wants to babysit is none other than the teacher!  

Teachers come into the classroom with one agenda: to teach.  They teach math, science, social studies, language arts, foreign language, even religion.  But they don’t teach discipline.  Why the hell not?  If they know that 69.3% of students in each classroom are offensively bad, why don’t they spend less time writing notes home to parents in an effort to remind us of how we’re failing as guardians instead of drafting up a damn disciplinary education standard to get those attitudes in check?  There’s no need to tell us about our kids’ discipline problems.  We already know they’re bad as sh*t.  What they’re telling us is that there is a lack of effort and responsibility in our classrooms.  Our teachers are too lazy to tell our brats to shut the hell up!  If they are spending more time with our kids than we are, then it’s only fair that they hold more of a percentage in the area of disciplinary responsibility, right?  It’s just common sense.  

Hell, we spend eight hours a day dealing with bad attitudes, unrealistic demands and never-ending chores, all for little to no paycheck.  When we get home, we are expecting the teachers to bombard our kids with multiple chapters worth of homework, detention slips and drained energy from sending their bad asses back and forth to the principal’s office.  When they send our kids home all well rested and free from studying, they are only telling us that they do not value the progression of our children’s citizenship. 

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Imagine, leaving the discipline up to the parents.  As if we don’t already have enough on our plates. 

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When the kids finally graduate after spending 6 or 7 years in high school, who takes the credit for them graduating?  Teachers, of course.  Why be all finicky when it comes to their behavior?  

Look, teachers.  All we, as parents, are trying to do is be fair.  We’re simply trying to give you the credit where you deserve it and raise a stink when you fall short.  Teach the damn kids some manners and respect so that we don’t have to be called bad parents when they come home with these nasty attitudes.  Stake your claim in the effort of raising some good standing citizens while they’re still young.  Just keep in mind that the next time one of our kids comes home with some foul language that you’re going to get your ass kicked.  Since our feet aren’t super-glued to the playground, they are your responsibility from 8:30-3:00.  So you need to be aware of what they’re talking about; whom they are messing with; when they skip class; when they skip school; fight; fuss; sleep; pout; whine; cheat; and/or lie.  You’re getting paid to do the same sh*t we are too tired to do for free. 

Now if you think this letter is too much of a big pill to swallow, relish in the thought that 90% of any effort is getting started.  And trust me, it’ll probably be easier to digest if you hit the bottle first. 

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Quote of the week:  “Education is when you read the fine print. Experience is what you get if you don’t.”

A Birthday Tribute to the Hills of Hottywood

Ladies and gentlemen!  Guys and gals!  Kats, kittens, dawgs, and bitches!  I greet you in the name of all things coated with vegetable oil and all-purpose flour!  Today we celebrate a very special day.  No, I’m not referring to the anniversary of the Alabama law that states it is illegal to sell peanuts in Lee County after sundown on Wednesdays; or the Oregon law that dictates canned corn is not to be used as bait for fishing.  Though, in my opinion, those days are worth celebrating.  Today we honor and celebrate the birth of Hottywood!  

Today, as I blow out a flattering number of trick candles, eat mounds of chocolate cake and pass gas profusely from all the lactose-induced vanilla bean ice cream I can eat, I invite you to unbuckle those horrible skinny jeans, kick off your white socks and sandals, and put your table manners to the side as we feast at a table of endless chicken wings and sesame seed buns! 

On this cold day of February, all should be reminded and some even encouraged that there are many things that we can all get away with in the name of Hottywood, simply because I said so.  And I don’t give a damn who doesn’t like it.  You don’t even have to thank me for this encouragement because some of you reserved tykes have probably been waiting for the right opportunities [anyway] to: 

  • Tell your neighbors to shove their loud stereo sets up their ass;
  • Suggest to your coworkers that they email themselves straight to hell;
  • Lead that one self-absorbed person to the middle of a bullfighting coliseum after coloring their body w/ permanent red magic marker;
  • Dip your enemy’s underwear in raw hamburger meat and unleash a pack of hungry dogs on them;
  • Turn off all the hot water in your apartment complex at the break of dawn so people’s annoying shower singing can actually be what it sounds like – screaming; or
  • Put baby snapping turtles inside your landlord’s mailbox. 

It’s probably not ethical for me to give you ideas on how to get back at all those folks who forgot your birthday, have done you wrong, or even the clods that you simply don’t like.  But as I’ve stated before, today is a very special day and the only rule that applies is that I make the rules.  So you can do whatever the hell you damn well please in the name of humor, emotionless love and my birthday!    

May the rest of your day be filled with chicken wings, stripper poles, and restraining orders.  Not necessarily in that order.  

…oh, and if you don’t think you have the balls to be bad, relish in the thought that 90% of any effort is getting started!  Follow my lead and you just might learn something.  Happy birthday to me from me!  

Luv ya, babies.

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Quote of the week:  “Birthdays are nature’s way of telling us to eat more cake.”

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of January 30-February 5, 2010

The Superbowl is coming up in one more week.  Until then it’s answers you seek.  Answers to the questions of sh*t that lies ahead of things that make you sick or even wish you were near dead.  Death is not the answer.  We all know this is true.  But in the event of crappy situations, ask yourself, “what would Hottywood do?”  

Below are Hottywood’s cookie fortunes, as revealed by the moon and the sun, in addition to the itch on the bottom of his foot.   

Take heed.  Knowledge is power.

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Capricorn

December 22 – January 19 

You have a special gift if you can name 101 ways to disguise elbow macaroni.

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Aquarius

January 20 – February 18

Anyone can scotch tape someone’s eyebrows together but it takes a strong man to snatch that tape off and run like a lil bitch.

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Pisces

February 19 – March 20   

A zit will be the 3rd wheel on a first date.

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Aries

March 21 – April 19 

Everything means something and nothing is included in that everything.  That leaves something to be desired.  But what does it leave if nothing is everything?  Everything or nothing at all? 

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Taurus

April 20 – May 20 

Fighting in private is one thing.  Fighting in public is just ghetto.

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Gemini

May 21 – June 20 

A dog that has no master worries not of betrayal.

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Cancer

June 21 – July 22 

This week your boobs will have a life of their own, which will be terribly interesting if you’re a man and flattering if you’re a flat-chested woman.

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Leo

July 23 – August 22 

If you tell someone to kiss your ass and their lips aim for your mouth, you should feel more insulted than you intended for them to feel. ___________________________________________________________

Virgo

August 23 – September 22 

All those people who keep telling you to shut up are just the voices in your head. ___________________________________________________________

Libra

September 23 – October 22 

You may not become an angel until you get the devil beaten out of you.   ___________________________________________________________

Scorpio

October 23 – November 21 

If you feel something nibbling at your socks and you’re wearing new shoes, that just means your feet are dirty.  ___________________________________________________________

Sagittarius

November 22 – December 21   

If you have no standards, you have no structure.  If you have no structure, you prove yourself to be the mess everyone perceives you to be.  ___________________________________________________________

Quote of the Week:   “Have the courage to be ignorant of a great number of things, in order to avoid the calamity of being ignorant of everything.”    

To Those Who Take Advantage of Others: The Jig is Up

Are you one of those people who are taken advantage of by folks in and out of your inner circle?  If you are, you’ll be happy to know that you’re not alone. 

A wise man once said, “some things are better left unsaid.”  Obviously that wise man wasn’t wise enough to have anyone need him for anything.  So he probably wasn’t that wise to begin with.  Therefore I, being the wise man that I am, am standing up to tell you that sometimes you need to tell needy mofos to get off your jock and fix their sh*t their damn selves, because if you weren’t around to make their lives easier, they’d have to do it themselves anyway.  Either you be honest and tell them to leave you the hell alone or simply kick them where the sun doesn’t shine…which is always the first alternative choice!  

To the people who only call when they need something.  You morons may think we are stupid but the only person who is stupid is you!  You can call us until you’re blue in the face but sooner or later we are going to tell you to go shove it.  When your name flashes across the caller id, if you’re not calling to tell us that someone has died, your best bet is call us to tell us you’re dying because that’s the only way we’re going to have enough sympathy to get off our asses to help your ass out.  If we needed something, could we call on you?   Hell no and you know it.  You creeps always have an excuse why you can’t be around when the chips are down.  So go choke on some potato chip crumbs.  And when your air pipes have clogged until you’re gasping for that last breath and you need a ride to the hospital, don’t call us because we won’t be available.  

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To the people who are too lazy or dumb to do anything for themselves.  You’re too indolent to take a wild stab in the dark to try to accomplish anything for yourself without the help of others so you whine and beg until someone feels sorry enough for your ass to give you a hand.  Well the jig is up, swine bait!  If we weren’t around to perform all the hard labor while you take the credit and smile in our faces, you’d have no other choice but to fend yourself.  So here’s a word of advice for you: No one likes laziness and not too many people can stand being around someone too dumb to take the initiative to invest in their own doing.  Because you are the type of person that you are, may your socks forever slouch to your ankles and your underwear always itch.  Those are two things no one is going to be dim-witted enough to work on for you, so let’s see if your balls are big enough to ask for help with that.  

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To the people who only help you when there’s something in it for them.  We’ve peeped your game.  You only come around when there’s something in it for you, that’s why no one bothers to call you for anything.  We will give you a little bit of credit though, for offering your help, even if it does mean you’re only offering because you think you’re going to get something out of the deal.  Well how about this?  We’ll promise to give you a cut of the profit for lending us your help, but we won’t promise on when we’ll deliver on that promise.  That’s right, just like you’re intending on using us for your own personal gain, we can play that game right along with you, you selfish skunk butt.  We’re not idiots.  We’re going to accept any help you offer us, but after we’ve used you for what we need, we’re simply going to accidentally push you over a cliff because we already know you’re not gullible enough not to realize that we’re playing you at your own game.  But we’re pretty confident that you’re credulous enough to fall for your own prank once.  We’re not giving you that much credit.

To sum it up nicely; if you think we’re going to continue to be your crutch, for whatever reason, then the left side of your brain is just as malfunctioned as your right.  We are smart enough to know that if all you assholes keep coming to us for help, then we are smarter than we give ourselves credit for.   And if we don’t think we’re that smart, we’re smart enough to know that 90% of any effort is getting started.  So what we don’t know we can surely learn.  And learn it we shall without any help from you!   Sianara byches! 

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Quote of the week:   He who asks is a fool for five minutes, but he who does not ask remains a fool forever.

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of Jan. 23-29, 2011

Liars and bullsh*tters and cheaters galore.  Double-crossers and haters and so much more.  Backstabbers who write the lyrics to the songs they sing.  These are a few of my least favorite things.  The week is new and the crap is whack, so listen closely to the kettle that calls the pot black.

Below are Hottywood’s cookie fortunes, as revealed by the moon and the sun, in addition to the itch on the bottom of his foot.   

Take heed.  Knowledge is power.

___________________________________________________________

Capricorn

December 22 – January 19 

You will be forced to confess a secret to a cross-eyed snake who has more dirt on you than a mountain has cliffs.

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Aquarius

January 20 – February 18

A wolf can not seek loyalty amongst sheep.  ___________________________________________________________

Pisces

February 19 – March 20   

Don’t bother doing your hair this week.  It’ll just look like burnt spaghetti. ___________________________________________________________

Aries

March 21 – April 19 

Nothing smells worse than an asshole who tries to bullsh*t a bullsh*tter. ___________________________________________________________

Taurus

April 20 – May 20 

To change your luck, gargle a malt beverage three times while standing on your tippy toes. Face whatever direction the sun doesn’t shine.

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Gemini

May 21 – June 20 

You can get your point across better with a drop-kick than you can with words. ___________________________________________________________

Cancer

June 21 – July 22 

You give your best concerts in the shower when no one is around to hear you.  Stick to that. ___________________________________________________________

Leo

July 23 – August 22 

Food for thought: Is the honor in your words worth less than the shoes on your feet?___________________________________________________________

Virgo

August 23 – September 22 

Your underwear is a change you simply must make. ___________________________________________________________

Libra

September 23 – October 22 

A shoplifter will try to steal your joy.  His five-finger discount should only buy him one [hand] palm across the left jaw. ___________________________________________________________

Scorpio

October 23 – November 21 

The good news is for the next few days you’ll be quite the conversationalist.  The bad news is no one will want to talk to you.  ___________________________________________________________

Sagittarius

November 22 – December 21   

Today you’ll be riding on the fumes of luck.  If you smell something rotten, you’ll know exactly what it is.  ___________________________________________________________

Quote of the Week:   “When the center of the universe is discovered, a lot of people will be disappointed to learn they are not it.”    

A Momentary Rant of a Man Undone

Let’s be honest; even a man who always seems to have it all together cracks under pressure every now and then.  And as perfect as I am (at least as far as perfection goes in my own warped out mind), I am no exception to the rule.  

Having said that, I think I will take a short moment to ask one burning question that many people ask in their every day lives:  

 “What the #&$%@!?”  

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  • “What the #&$%@!”  did I do to deserve getting hit in the forehead with one of Karma’s mini bowling balls? 
  • “What the #&$%@!”  happened to the Plan B that I usually keep in my back pocket? 
  • “What the #&$%@!”  am I going to do to get myself out of this deep a$$ pothole that I managed to fall into?   

Well, I asked the one burning question like I said.  I just happened to ask it in three different variations.  Why?  Because I can.  “What the #&$%@!” are you going to do about it?     

Listen, everyone is only human.  Well, maybe not the chick that lives on the corner of my street.  I don’t know what she is, but I know it’s not human.  Have you seen her???  Oh wait, that’s a story for another time.  

My point is no one is immune to the pitfalls of life.  In fact, if we didn’t have sh*t to deal with, how would we know what we could handle?  It’s like going out on a bad date.  In your heart you know the date is going to be a bust, but you still have to endure the bad company, bad conversation, bad food and bad hygiene in order to know what you don’t like and what you hope to expect out of the next date who is anyone but the person you lowered your standards for in the first damn place.  

Oh, but if only things were as simple as a bad date.  You can stand up a bad date.  You can walk out on a bad date.  You can even throw your drink in a bad date’s face.  But life, my friends, is something a little more funky than a simple bad date.  In fact, sometimes life can be a big pile of sh*t.  However as stinky as that sh*t may be, life is also a wheel.  What’s down today is up tomorrow.  The hard part is getting through the day.  Lucky for us all 90% of any effort is getting started. 

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Quote of the week:   He that is afraid of bad luck will never know good.”

Hottywood’s 2011 New Year’s Resolutions

It’s been a minute since the last time we’ve chatted, but you should know that I wasn’t off hiding in a corner somewhere licking my finger tips after stuffing my face with a handful of barbeque potato chips.  Like each and every one of you, I was off pondering the possibilities of what the new year will bring. 

Keeping in touch with the American new year tradition, I jotted down a few [New Year’s] resolutions for myself.  You know, something to strive for and aspire to.   And seeing how Christmas is trying its best to jet ski right past us, what better time than now to share those resolutions with you?!

Kats, kittens, dolls, guys and gals, I now present to you Hottywood’s 2011 New Year’s Resolutions!   Hope you’re as ready for the new year as I am.

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Start saying, “No.” 

I go out of my way to please people; never rejecting anyone’s requests or unreasonable favors and the only word I ever get in return is, “No.”  So let’s see how their asses feel when I return the rejected favor. 

In fact, let’s put a “Hell,” in front of that “No,” to make it more effective! 

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Drink more; hangover less.

Let’s be honest, everyone wants to be the drunk guy that gets pointed at and maliciously talked about at all the parties.  Because everyone knows that he is having the BEST time!   And it probably wouldn’t be much of a party if he wasn’t there.  So either stop hating on the drunk guy or starting throwing better parties!

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Incorporate diet fried chicken and french fries (w/ “I Believe It’s Not Salt”) into my daily diet. 

I know damn well that I’m not the only person in the world that’s in love with fried chicken.  Especially my mama’s fried chicken!  Can’t nobody fry up some wings like my mama.  Well…maybe Popeyes, ’cause they have all those eleven herbs and spices and stuff.  And possibly the Cornel, ’cause he’s not a cornel for nothing.  He’s an officer for chicken!  Oh, and then there’s Church’s Fried chicken.  You know that chicken must be touched by God.  I mean listen to the name of the product. 

Okay, okay.  I guess you see where I’m going with this.  I’m going to find a way to make greasy, home fried chicken a part of a regular healthy diet.  Or die trying! 

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Burn any and every record that features the voice of Aaron Neville. 

Alright, I know I’m probably going to burn in hell for condemning the poor guy’s music to a biochemical lava pit.  But seriously, have you heard the guy sing?  He sounds like chipmunks on steroids.

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Braid my armpit hair every 3rd Saturday of the month. 

‘Cause I like to keep people guessing!    C’mon, admit it; you know you’ve always wanted to take a peek under my arms.   That doesn’t make you weird.  It’s the other thing that makes you weird!   

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Celebrate my birthday every time I go out to eat in a restaurant so I can get a free slice of cake while the wait staff embarrassingly sings the annoying birthday song to me while jealous consumers look on and inadvertently joins in, secretly wanting a bite of the cake that I’m not going to share. 

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Belch without saying, “Excuse me.”  Oh wait; I already do that.   

Hey, don’t judge me. 

MOVING ON.  →

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Cross out anyone’s name in my phone book whose armpits and butt cheeks smell relatively the same.  

And if you think it’s cool to hang around someone who smells like a Thursday morning trash pick up, then I’m scratching your name out of the book, too!

How you like them apples?!________________________________________________________ 

Convince a convent of nuns to watch “Revenge of the Nerds” and all of its sequels.  

I have to be honest and say that I would just love to sit there and watch the expression on a nun’s face as she looks at some of the sh*t that those nerds pull on that show. 

To be quite honest with you, I worked with a nun who I think could’ve used a little humor in her life.  She was about as nice as The Grim Reaper.  About the same age too, but that’s another story. 

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Rally for world peace amongst the hamster community. 

Ah come on.  I’m not the only one who’s rallying for togetherness and furry respect amongst all rodents who runs non-stop inside a wheel.   I can understand their frustration.  They keep running and running but never get anywhere.  That would make me want to punch somebody, too. 

Dear Mr. Hamster,

Be glad you’re not a turkey.  They are born and raised to be eaten. 

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So there you have it, folks.  I strongly believe that committing to these resolutions will change my life drastically!   The hard part is sticking to the commitment.  Thank goodness 90% of any effort is getting started

***

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Quote of the week:    “It’s bad luck to spill a drink on New Year’s eve.”

 

In Search of Non-Morning Person Support Group

Seems to me I remember sharing with the world how much of a morning person I am not some time back in 2009.  Still, all my mornings pretty much begin the same – brutal traffic that points its finger and laughs at me as I cuss all the way to work; stale bagels; and yesterday’s coffee.  Today seems to be as good a day as any to reiterate how much I despise people who bombard me with useless conversation about how they are doing when it’s clearly marked on my forehead how much I don’t give a damn; customers who call the office first thing in the morning to ask questions they seem to already know the answers to; and coworkers who are not considerate enough to let me take my coat off before pawning their work off on me so they can play endless games of internet Bejeweled.  

Perhaps if my night ended in a peaceful manner, filled with salty french fries, a throwback comedic marathon, like “I Love Lucy”, and a foot massage from a rich princess who runs a country somewhere in the tropics and looks like Kim Kardashian, I wouldn’t feel like coming to work with a machine gun full of bubblicious chewing gum and stink bomb pellets.  Alas, I’m not that lucky, and neither are those people who float across my threshold on cloud 9 any time before high noon – aka, lunch!  Especially if they aren’t toting a box of piping hot Popeyes chicken or seemed to have left their manners at home and omitted to say, “Good morning,” before tossing words around like, “I need you to,” and “I know you’re busy but…”  Those are the people who get their car doors scratched with a pair of keys or accidentally runs over a glass bottle of Millers Genuine Draft without any idea of what kind of non-morning person would do such a thing to them. 

Now by mid-day when my mood has calmed and my taste buds have settled on what it desires for the lunch time fix, a whole new wave of gripe and grudge takes over my body once my eyelids have become heavy and the clock does anything but move its big hand closer to the 12 and the little hand on the 5.  This is around the time when office colleagues, business vendors, and out-of-office meeting guests should all enter my personal space with caution.  To put it mildly, only approach me if wearing a suit of armor while holding a bungee cord to assist me in an early dismissal of work through the 17th floor window.  But seriously, what are the chances of that happening?  If your answer is “little to none” much like my answer is, there is an alternative solution.  Boredom is the next overwhelming feeling after passing the I Don’t Want to Be Here stage of the day.   Here’s when practical joke mode kicks in.  

Accidentally jam the photocopier, fill all the toilet bowls in the building with Bounty paper towels or make prank 911 calls from your boss’ desk phone and just sit back and wait for the fun part to begin.   

I would’ve included a nice clip of an overflowing toilet but you did just eat your lunch in the previous paragraph and that simply would’ve been another mess for you to clean up before quitting time.  At any rate the day must go on if you wish to continue receiving your paychecks.  So as much as I would love to sit here and continue telling you how much of a morning person I am not, or an afternoon person for that matter, I must dust off my glue gun and stick some folders to the bottom of the file cabinet in hopes to never see them again.  But if you have some time, let’s meet up after work for a drink.  By then I will be in the jolliest of moods and won’t mind so much stupid comments, selfish company or inconsiderate people because I’ll be too consumed by alcohol to give a sh*t.  

Five o’clock isn’t that far away.  I can make it.  After all, 90% of any effort is getting started.  

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Quote of the week:    “Oh, you hate your job?  Why didn’t you say so?  There’s a support group for that.  It’s called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.”   -Drew Carey