Don’t be a Delquon Derrick-Malik Jenkins

Kats and kittens, it’s been a while since I’ve taken some time out of my endless 15 minute coffee break to complain about anything. And by a while, I mean yesterday. But today, as I place my leftover buffalo wings on top of the office copier machine in hopes of mass-reproducing the spicy deliciousness, I am really perturbed by the smelliest smell I’ve ever smelled.

Delquon Derrick-Malik Jenkins, the blond haired, blue eyed accounting specialist down the hall, just left out of the break room with his mid-day snack. To be honest, I can’t tell you exactly what it is, but I can tell you that whatever it is, it’s loaded with onions, garlic, beans and an ADMIT ONE ticket to the bathroom. I want to say I’m offended by the smell, but I could very well be offended by the fact that ol’ Delquon didn’t offer my greedy ass any [insert PLAYA-HATEDNESS here].

Delquon isn’t the first violator of the shit you don’t eat in the office. I may be guilty of it, too, since I’m the first to warm my shrimp, crabs or collard greens in the microwave; but we aren’t talking about me because nothing I do is wrong as long as I don’t get caught doing it. Delquon’s dumb ass got caught red handed. With this said, let us be reminded that only cool people (and by cool people, I mean me) are allowed to warm up:

  • Seafood – There are enough people whose body stinks without appropriate showers.
  • Chitterlings – It’s bad enough something can smell as if it crawled up your butt and died. The last thing you should do is pull all that shit out of your insides and serve it on a plate.
  • Bean and onion burritos – GAS ASS ALERT!
  • Repurposed eggs – Don’t ask. Just don’t do it.
  • Fermented soy beans – Anything fermented is a call for disaster.
  • Steak & cheese sandwiches (but only if it comes from the deadliest carry out in the hood) – no ghetto sandwich is complete without extra onions – fried and/or raw.
  • Tortilla soup – Tortillas already smell like someone put their whole body in a bathtub EXCEPT their feet.
  • Anything where the special ingredients are monkey fur, frog hearts or the thumbs of a gorilla, for obvious reasons.

Delquon, ol’ boy, you are not me; therefore I cannot allow you to get away with disrespecting our office with that mess you call food. You call it food. I call it an edible boat anchor to hold the weight of your pot belly where it is until high cholesterol or an overdose of calories carries you to meet your maker. Until then, we are having an ice cream social in conference room 14A at 4:00pm and you are not invited.


Quote of the Week:  More people will get out of your way if you say “I’m gonna puke!” than if you say “Excuse me.”

  

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THROWBACK: A Case of the Mondays on a Tuesday

MONDAYI can’t go on a “Today is Monday” tangent, because today is not Monday but rather Tuesday. However since I didn’t get to gripe and groan about all the bullshit that usually happens on a Monday, the universe saw fit for me to get my dose of the Monday blues today.

After spending the last five days footloose and worry free on an Easter vacation, this morning I partook in a WWE wrestling match with my alarm clock. The clocked punched and kicked and pulled and pushed me until I found myself laying on the floor, covered in bruises and pillow drool. No more are my days of sleeping until high noon. No more waking up to buttered toast and cold beers. No more watching I Love Lucy and all things 80s on the Hallmark channel. Nope. After today’s royal battle, I am back to the humdrum of hating mornings, fighting with my cat over when and how much to feed him before I leave for the day, and listening to my downstairs neighbor call her husband a lazy, fat so and so because she has to get up to go to work while he continues to lay his unemployed butt around the house scratching his balls.

I’d finally mustered up enough energy to wash the last five days off of me and shaved the fur that grew on my face, when behold, there was a shocking bang on my door reminiscent of a knock just before a police swat team storms a raid bust site. To my surprise it was my downstairs neighbor, demanding (not requesting) to use my phone because she’d locked herself out of her apartment, after having put her husband out on the streets and telling him not to return without a job. I wanted to laugh in her face in an effort to say NANANABOO, as I remembered the argument we had some months ago when she waited two weeks after one of my late night trysts to complain about all the noise I made on that particular night, which in my head warranted me a well-deserved pat on the back and a serious high five on my part! Alas, at 6:45am, after having lost a wrestling match with my alarm clock, laughing was the last thing I wanted to do.

I finally made it to work, and of course, was greeted by an empty coffee pot. Next to the pot was an ice bucket full of coffee creamers. It was a double slap in the face because there was no coffee and also I’m allergic to dairy. Could this morning get any worse? I thought to myself.  Of course I asked that question moments before booting up my computer only to find I had no access to email, the internet or any shared network drives. In addition to having no technology access, I have a major report due tomorrow. It probably would have made sense if I’d have started working on the report three weeks ago when I was first made aware of it, but like every man on the planet, procrastination got the best of me. I figured I could get the report done in less than 8 hours. …Technically 5 ½ hours now.

No Monday-like Tuesday would be complete without forgetting my wallet. Since begging is not in my vocabulary, lunch will be particularly interesting today. I did grab a few packs of soy sauce from the cafeteria. Perhaps when my blood pressure rises above the norm, the near death experience will help me to forget just how hungry I am. This wouldn’t have been a problem if one of the cleaning staff hadn’t stolen the baked chicken that I forgot to take home with me last week from out of the refrigerator.

On a good note, not many people are in the office today. That translates into not many people will see my new outfit. You know. The one I wore to church on Easter Sunday. The good news about that is I’ll know exactly what I’m going to wear two days from today, and I won’t even have to iron!

Now the only thing I need to do is drink enough soy sauce packets until my head starts to spin, much like it does when I’ve been slipped a mickey at any given party on a Friday night. That might motivate me to start on this report and at noon, stand in front of the cafeteria like a panhandler when the rest of the building staff bombards the lunch line for today’s spaghetti and meatballs. I said begging is not in my vocabulary. I didn’t say I didn’t know how to do it. Hopefully I can get about twenty people to give me $.25 each.

Until then, people. On this Tuesday, I’d like to say to you all, HAPPY MONDAY or some shit like that!


Quote of the Week:  “The golden rule of work is that the boss’ jokes are ALWAYS funny.”   

Duck Sauce Bandits

Guys and gals, it’s been a short while since the last time we’ve griped about anything, so today we will join forces to take a stand against carryout associates who are stingy with their duck sauce.

What is it with these carryout places that prohibit them from giving up more than one packet of duck sauce for all those blasted noodles and rice?  Mingh Lee, Hwong Sai, Zhang Lo, and Kwei Lau Woo all have the same attitude problem when you ask them for extra duck sauce.  First, they look at you as if you’re asking for too much, and then they form their thin lips to tell you that you’re going to have to cough up an extra $.25 for an additional packet.

“Please pause with me for a moment has I clench my heart and gasp at the preposterousness of a quarter of a dollar for something you’re only going to taste once with a mouthful of spit!”

Are you friggin’ kidding me?  Are these packets of sweet heavenly goodness coming out of their paychecks?  Why the hell should the general public have to pay for extra duck sauce?  That’s like paying for the white on rice.

There can only be one of two reasons why carryout associates are ready to pull out their nunchucks at the request of any additional condiments: either (1) they are cheap as hell or (2) the price of duck sauce over in China is as steep as the price of gas is here in the states.

Well, just like Americans and illegal aliens alike have come up with innovative ways to paste pigeon feathers onto their walking shoes to avoid ridiculously scathing gas prices, greedy people who share the same carryout-consumer gripe have become more creative in getting their extra duck sauce, soy sauce and even hot mustard.  Those innovations all ironically include the use of collected fire wood, aerosol spray paint and a book of matches.  That’s right; the greedy and hungry have finally revolted against the cheap and stingy.  “Enough is enough.”

“Whatever happened to the saying, “The customer is always right.”?  Where’s the love?”

For the sake of all things fried and dipped in sesame seeds, loosen up the grip on the duck sauce, carryout associate-son!  How do you expect to come to ‘the hood,’ open up a chicken wing joint that conveniently serves all the lo mein a brutha can eat and then put a cap on the amount of condiments to be given away with each order?  Haven’t your business plans taught you that hood rats overdo everything?  We buy clothes, cars and people that are too far out of our budgets, so it’s only obvious that we’re going to want to overdo it on the fried rice and chow mein.  For you to be smart enough to fry chicken wings the way you do to the point where everyone in the neighborhood is willing to pack on a few extra summer-time pounds, you sure are stupid!  Charging us for the extra “must haves” will only lead to the undoing of your fine grease-filled establishment.

After asking, pleading, and complaining, these warnings have now turned into threats.  Give us some more damn duck sauce or else we’ll have to pull out our stun guns and candle lighters and show you that we mean business.  When it comes to food, drinks and booty calls, we don’t play!  If you think seeing a pissed off Bruce Lee is something, wait until you see a pissed off hungry hood rat!

For your sake, you should be glad we’re talking about duck sauce and not chicken wings.  Otherwise there would be all kinds of hell to pay and guess who would be the leader of that pack.  I won’t call any names, but let’s just say it rhymes with Pottywood.  And I know you wouldn’t want to piss him off.  He’d get you if it was the last thing he’d do.  If but for no other reason and declaration that 90% of any effort is getting started.

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Quote of the Week:  “It’s not holding on that makes you strong; it’s letting go.”  

Don’t Talk, Just Listen

ON THIS DAY 5 YEARS AGO….


When is it permissible to say something when you have nothing nice to say?   Is it when someone cuts you off on the freeway?  Or when a person dismisses your conversation to monopolize the conversation about them?   What about if someone farts at the dinner table or if their pinky toenail is splitting through the leather of their shoes?

If you’re anything like me, you’re smart enough to know that that golden rule your mother taught you about knowing when to shut up does not apply to every situation.  Sometimes the best thing to say is the worst thing possible.  No one is that reserved.  Well, maybe nuns are but I’ve met my share of nuns who secretly had red-dyed habits stashed away somewhere in their dank little rooms.  But that’s a horse of a different color.

The point is ‘speaking your mind’ has somehow gotten lost in the travels of time.  It’s seen as and/or defined as being rude or inconsiderate.  You know what I say about that?  Hog wash!   Speaking when you have nothing nice to say is a term of endearment for all parties involved.

To the person who has nothing nice to say — let it out.  Your evil, petty and maybe even vindictive expressions may very well shed light on the listening victim’s inner ego, bad fashion sense, hygiene or overall being, for that matter.  You could also be inadvertently reminding someone how much they don’t want to be like you – insulting, abrupt, coarse, disrespectful, impolite, scurrilous or just down right rude.

To the person who is targeted by someone else’s discourteous comments, this is your opportunity to learn.  Channel your inner Sponge Bob and absorb the annotations whether ill-intended or jokingly.  If you need to cut your toenails, perm your split ends or not forget to wash all the important parts of your body, it’s better to hear it now and stop prolonging what inevitably needs to change for you to be less more of a gotdamn shame.

And finally, to the people who are sitting around listening to this sh*t, you have to admire the humor.  The nerve of some people!

Ladies and gentleman, guys, gals, cats and kittens – stop being so damn politically correct and just release into the atmosphere that which is clogging your better sense of morals and manners.  Speak up!  That’s what our lips are for.  They serve a purpose.  Truth.  Justice.  Humor.


Quote of the week:   “Sarcasm helps keep you from telling people what you really think of them.”

Shake and Bake…I Mean Wake and Bake

Have you ever sat at your desk and wondered what you were going to eat for lunch? Of course you have. Who hasn’t? But have you ever awaken from your morning slumber (I mean at home, roughly between 5:30a and 6:30a – BEFORE WORK – not “sleep-at-your-desk” slumber) and wondered what you were going to eat for breakfast, lunch, AND dinner? I can’t say everyone has done it. I mean it’s possible, but more likely if you wake up with the munchies, you stoner!

Only greedy human hoovers who’ve spent their entire night sucking up one end of a ganja stick wake up with cracker crumbs on their brains. Don’t think you’re fooling anyone. When you’re announcing to a room full of colleagues at the morning all-hands staff meeting that you’re hungry and you’ve already mapped out your dinner menu, everyone knows upfront that you are going to fail next week’s surprise drug test. Oh, and SURPRISE…it’s no surprise! So don’t be surprised when someone (or everyone) says “I told you so,” during your termination you just got canned last day of work party.

Just say NO; only never say NO to your cafeteria lady…or your weed supplier.

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Quote of the Week:  “There is a chemical in weed called “Fuck it.” If you can just get that into your system it will change your life.”

  

What if Suburbanites Took Over DC’s Green Line Metro

DC METROIf you’re a native of Washington DC, then chances are you are familiar with the shenanigans of metro’s GREEN line. For those of you that are unfamiliar with Washington’s metro system, specifically the GREEN line, it isn’t a fun place to visit and you sure as hell wouldn’t want to live there. You wouldn’t survive the wretchedness.

On a given day, you’re likely to see little urban school kids passing a blunt, while not offering any puff-puff passes to potheads they know not; women fighting and ripping weave out of each other’s eyebrows while their children throw dice from their strollers, placing bets on which one of their mothers will win the brawl (aw crap[s]); or panhandlers begging for enough pennies to buy a sandwich laced with coke. I could go on. No really. I could go on AND ON AND ON.

Metro’s GREEN line is a ratchet1 staple for the urban community – metro riders with no wings, horses, bikes, cars, or nerve to highjack anyone else for their wings, horses, bikes or cars. But what would happen if the tables were turned and the urban community metro riders felt unsafe if their suburbanite counterparts wore their asses on their sleeves?

METRO FIGHTHow would urban commuters respond if their opposites boarded a train blasting heavy metal through the speakers of a flip phone? Or drink their Starbucks coffees from an Old English beer bottle…better yet, from a 40oz Steele Reserve 211 bottle? Or cursed boisterously out loud in complete sentences, enunciating every profane word? Or sing the theme song of the Facts of Life while using intrusively dangerous hand gestures? Or board the train with their baby strollers tricked out with hydraulics? Or fling their non-weaves, or as it’s referred to in the suburbanite community – extensions – only to release dandruff flakes or other unidentified hair particles? Or throw their jogging shoes over their shoulders after running a hundred miles in the same muddy puddles puppies pee in, boarding the train with no shoes, socks or crossbows to pass out to other riders so they can bulls eye a couple of smelly toes?

The answers to these questions are simple. They wouldn’t do that dumb shit! And neither should anyone else, no matter what ethnicity you hail from. The metro rail system, even the ghetto GREEN line, should be a cost effective commuter rail (if you could see my face you’d see I can barely say this without bursting into laughter. There’s nothing cost effective about the Washington DC’s metro rail system) where riders can be late to work in peace and where husbands and wives can secretly meet up with their f*ck buddies for lunch time quickies or whatever you want to call it so their spouse(s) wouldn’t know any better. It’s not (or shouldn’t be) a system for inconsiderate Earthlings to impose their vices on others, yet that is exactly what it is.

Instead of closing out this post with some profound conclusion, I’m just going to say if you’re in the DC area for any reason and you need to catch the GREEN line to say, a baseball game – walk. You may get some serious blisters on your feet; they may even fall off; but it would be safer than risking your life on the GREEN line. Trust me. I know. I died a few times on that line. I’m only around to tell the story because the world isn’t ready to lose me just yet. Either that or I’m too stubborn to die.

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1 Ratchet (According to UrbanDictionary.com) – A diva, mostly from urban cities and ghettos, that has reason to believe she is every man’s eye candy. Unfortunately, she’s wrong.

Typical signs to beware of include, but are not limited to:

___BLARES anything by Drake, 2Chainz, Nicki Minaj, Gucci Mane, Waka Flocka, Lil Wayne, T-Pain, Cali Swag District, or any other garbage entertainment rapper ___rowdily quotes “lyrics” from aforementioned artists ___has a weave reminiscent of a bird’s nest after a tempest hit the tree it was in, and is dyed at least thrice ___wears torn leggings/stalkings (mostly of the fishnet variety), unpolished 8″ heels (or higher, depending on how God-awful they look), fitted jean jackets (to accent the blubber ’round their arms and stomach), and 4 layers of caked on make-up to go clubbing ___repeatedly use ludicrous terms such as “YOLO”, “swag”, “boost”, “beaking”, “doe”, “really”, “naw”, “actually”, “twerk”, “coaster”, “dagga”, etc., to make a valid statement when they speak ___have side bangs, despite having incredibly small-ass foreheads to support them ___are commonly overweight and ___are mind-numbingly stupid; a safe assumption to make would be saying they’re uneducated (as if they could pass the 4th grade)

 

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Get Over Yourself

Every now and then it’s necessary for someone to knock you off your high horse and tell you to get over yourself.

Admit it. You’ve at one time or another busted out of your seams because your ass was too big for your britches. Your outfit was right. Your shoes were blindingly white. Your hair was tight. And everyone was on your jock, right? WRONG! There are only two people up your ass the way you are; you and the person you’re f*cking that week. Other than that, outside of an occasional “you look nice TODAY,” no one gives a shit about the pedestal you stand on.

___If you think any and every situation and/or conversation (to include social media posts) are about you; if you are able to turn any and every situation and/or conversation into something about you, GET OVER YOURSELF. I”ll bet you any amount of money that you are the only person as interested in you as you are. Really. No one cares. Shut up.

___If you want to brag about a new promotion you’ve just received to someone that can’t get out of the mailroom, GET OVER YOURSELF. Your bragging is merely falling on deaf ears and will almost always get your shoes stolen in a CVS parking lot (everyone knows there’s a CVS next to every person’s place of employment, even if they work in a jungle. CVS’ are like churches and liquor stores. You can find one on every corner).

___If you think your sex is the best and everyone wants to f*ck you, GET OVER YOURSELF. You are doing nothing but making yourself out to be a horny little jack rag, and the only thing that will get you is a sexually transmitted disease. #SHIELDS!

___If you think you have the answer to everybody’s problems, GET OVER YOURSELF. Nobody likes a know-it-all and you’d be surprised at the number of people who couldn’t care less about what you think.

___If you think your personality is so much of a winner that everyone flocks to you, GET OVER YOURSELF. People like you are usually the ones other people call upon as a last resort. In actuality, your personality could almost be compared to a glass of unsweetened tea.

___If you think you’re too good to return phone calls, GET OVER YOURSELF. Someone probably drunk-dialed or butt-dialed your number anyway.

___If you think you can sing or rap better than any or all other fellow artists, GET OVER YOURSELF. Everyone is their own best audience when the shower curtain is closed.

___If you think you are the world’s greatest cook, GET OVER YOURSELF. I bet there are some babies over in Africa with kwashiorkor that wouldn’t eat that mess you serve on a plate.

I’m not telling you not to be proud of yourself. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be confident and think highly of yourself. What I’m telling you is that you shouldn’t expect everyone to push you to the front of the line simply because you think that’s where you belong. Really. No disrespect. It’s just natural that not everyone cares about you as much as you do.

In a word…or three…GET OVER YOURSELF.

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Quote of the Week:  “You think I’m being a bitch? Let me check my notes to see if I care. Nope. Not at all. Have a nice day.”  

Why Sunglasses are as Important as Underwear

Over a period of history, dating back even to the 12th century (so I’ve been told. The 12th century is just a wee bit before my time), sunglasses have undergone quite a few changes in terms of functionality and appearance.

A MOMENT IN HISTORY

  • In the beginning, China witnessed the first occurrence of sunglasses, which were most commonly worn by the wealthy.
  • Later in the 18th century, sunglasses with vision correction were conceived by James Ayscough.
  • Sunglasses really took off in the 1920s, which was contributed by the prevalence of the film industry.
  • During the decades after the 1930s, sunglasses were widely accepted and has since maintained its popularity.

Traditional sunglasses were only expected to offer proper protection against UV rays and HEV radiation. Then came the innovation in sunwear style ( various shapes, sizes and colors).  Today, sunglasses have become more than just a popular accessory. They are in fact quite as important as underwear. You’re probably wondering where I’m going with this. It’s simple actually. We all wear underwear to cover our asses. That’s about the only reason I can come up with right now for wearing underwear, but when you think about it, the only reason we wear sunglasses is to cover our eyes, right? WRONG. There are actually a few more functionalities of sunglasses. They not only come in handy to protect eyes from UV rays, but they also come in handy when:


sleepy dog glassesYou’re sleepy.
Far be it from me to judge anyone that wears sunglasses indoors. Well actually not far be it from me. I’ll judge. People look crazy wearing sunglasses indoors but I never stopped to consider that maybe those crazy folks are wearing their sunglasses indoors because they were up all night doing sinful things and woke up the next morning looking like a zombie from an episode of the Walking Dead. Hell, if I looked like that I’d hide behind a pair of dark specs too. Shit. Maybe I need to put my sunglasses on because I feel like my forehead will formally and intimately introduce itself to this keyboard any minute now.

You’re hungover. You can’t tell me that you’ve never gone to work with a hangover. The lights are too loud. The fax machine is too loud. Your head is pounding too loudly. The color of your blood shot eyes are too loud. What better way to hide your disheveled face than behind a pair of your darkest lenses? Sure, everyone may still be able to smell the alcohol seeping out of your pores, but smelly pores never looked so good behind an obscure pair of specs.

You’re having a bad hair day. You have to admit that sometimes even your best outfit can’t hide those straggly strands. Your clothes are too far away from your head. It’s not enough of a distraction. And if you think your outfit won’t distract from your head, then you can forget about your shoes. Don’t waste your time on sky high heels or the whitest pair of kicks money can buy. Instead throw on the coolest shades you can find. They’re right on your face and everyone looking into your dome will be fascinated that you owned your messy look. No matter what you wear; no matter how bushy, nappy, curly or bald your hair is…whether your braids are too tight or half of your baby hair has fallen out on the bus, a nice pair of sunglasses ALWAYS looks good and pulls a look together. They make whatever style you’re rocking, good or bad, look as if you meant to do it. Your bad hair day, coupled with a nice pair of sunglasses instantly transforms your style into BAMA CHIC. Problem solved!

You’re covertly checking out someone’s boobs. Men do it. Women even do it. Everyone checks out boobs. In an attempt not to single out any one group [boob lovers], sunglasses are also used to check out someone’s pecs, butt, and pants prints. Checking out these body parts is usually inappropriate, no matter what situation you’re in. Sunglasses are necessary to hide your roaming eyes so someone doesn’t accidentally roam their fist into your face.

In the end, the aesthetical progression in the sunwear industry does not conflict with sunglasses’ functional dimensions. They marry quite well, actually. In today’s world you can get a great pair of sunglasses in all shapes, sizes, and colors. And no matter how ugly the glasses are, how bad your hair is, how wrinkled your clothes are, or how disheveled your face appears, if you throw on a pair of sunglasses you instantly look cool. Sunglasses aren’t just a fashion thing. They are a necessity and should be a staple in everyone’s wardrobe.

To me, sunglasses are like potato chips – I can’t have just one!  In fact, I have a pair for each voice in my head.

 

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Quote of the Week:  “With my sunglasses on, I’m Jack Nicholson. Without them, I’m fat and 60.” –Jack Nicholson

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of October 30-November 5, 2011

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

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Capricorn

December 22 – January 19

You have more nerves than Idaho has potatoes, still someone will find your last one and get on it.

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Aquarius

January 20 – February 18

Your ego wouldn’t be so big if you wore your credit score on your sleeve.

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Pisces

February 19 – March 20

The language of love begins and ends with the word, “bitch.” Use it with well intent and at your own risk.

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Aries

March 21 – April 19

This pay period, the amount of dollars in your checking account will be the same as your shoe size.

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Taurus

April 20 – May 20

The first punch doesn’t have to be the last lick.

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Gemini

May 21 – June 20

Beware of a ham dressed in turkey’s clothes.

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Cancer

June 21 – July 22

To feel your best, spend more time today telling other people what to do.

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Leo

July 23 – August 22

There’s no better day than today to try a bacon-wrapped chocolate donut.

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Virgo

August 23 – September 22

A drunk wino with skin of wrinkled leather will flash you at the bus stop. Oddly, you may enjoy it.

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Libra

September 23 – October 22

Today you are overly cheerful and peppy. You are the morning person someone wants to pour hot coffee all over. Watch your back.

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Scorpio

October 23 – November 21

Someone new is going to steal your thunder. Bribe everyone you know to stay on your side.

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Sagittarius

November 22 – December 21

Luck would have you to get stuck in an elevator with the president, vice president and secretary of the Deodorant is for Wimps Foundation.

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Quote of the week:    “’Give a man a match and he’ll be warm for a minute. Set him on fire and he’ll probably burn to death.’ This proverb is perhaps the exception to the rule that beggars can’t be choosers.”

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

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

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Capricorn

December 22 – January 19

The definition of a good psychiatrist is a bartender that pours without a spout.

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Aquarius

January 20 – February 18

Something special will happen in the next 48 hours if you go to the nearest Dunkin Donuts and lick all the sugar off the powdered donuts.

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Pisces

February 19 – March 20

You are going to regret burning a bridge when your ass is being chased by a pack of dogs.

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Aries

March 21 – April 19

Your next secret admirer will be an ex-con who went to jail for burning down a diner in Arkansas because his eggs were too runny.

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Taurus

April 20 – May 20

Be careful of the ditch you dig for someone else. That very ditch may have your name written all over it.

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Gemini

May 21 – June 20

Instead of finding a $1 bill on the ground, good luck will have you find a small bottle of butt spray. What you do with it is up to you.

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Cancer

June 21 – July 22

An absent minded man should keep a hanger in the back seat just in case he locks his keys in the car.

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Leo

July 23 – August 22

For the next 12 hours spell everything you have to say letter by letter.

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Virgo

August 23 – September 22

It doesn’t make sense to bring sand to the beach.

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Libra

September 23 – October 22

Start each conversation by reciting today’s date and saying, “This may be the last time, I dunno.”

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Scorpio

October 23 – November 21

That little guy that turns your refrigerator light on and off is about to quit.

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Sagittarius

November 22 – December 21

What’s the difference between a cheapskate and you?  One of you eats Cornflakes with a fork.

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Quote of the week:   “When listing the toppings you want on your next pizza, include another pizza.”

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of October 16-22, 2011

Some people have problems they never address and are just as screwed up as everyone else.  Luckily for them I take time to invest real talk for real people. 

~ Love, Hottywood Helps!

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. 

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Capricorn

December 22 – January 19

The problem is wherever you go, there you are. Sometimes you need to get away from yourself.

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Aquarius

January 20 – February 18

Just because you’re in the house doesn’t mean you’re home.

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Pisces

February 19 – March 20

The older you get, the better you get…unless you’re a banana.

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Aries

March 21 – April 19

The greatest room in the world is the room for improvement.

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Taurus

April 20 – May 20

You know it’s been a long night when the bags under your eyes hang low enough for your entire head to fall in. 

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Gemini

May 21 – June 20

Hell is full of people with good intentions.

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Cancer

June 21 – July 22

On any morning that ends in the letter “y,” the only thing that stands between you and a federal charge is a cup of coffee.

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Leo

July 23 – August 22

A stopped clock is right twice a day.

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Virgo

August 23 – September 22

If someone had to describe you in five words or less, those words would be, “The sheep that cried wolf.”

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Libra

September 23 – October 22

You cannot make someone love you. All you can do is stalk them and hope they panic and give in.

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Scorpio

October 23 – November 21

Experience teaches you to recognize a mistake when you’ve made it again.

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Sagittarius

November 22 – December 21

If looks could kill…well, never mind. 

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Quote of the week:  “If it weren’t for the last minute, nothing would get done.”

This Week’s Top Three Pet Peeves That Really Pisses People Off

Kats & Kittens, it’s time for a review of this week’s top three pet peeves.  

Over the course of the last few months, we’ve discussed everything from bad fashions to people that frustratingly monopolizes conversations with uninteresting chatter.  Today we will pin-point three of the most annoying crap on the face of the planet (this week).  In all honesty, there’s so many things that people do to annoy the hell of their neighbor that it’s kind of hard to narrow down the list to only three.  But if there’s anything that I’m not, it’s a quitter!  So sit back, grab a fattening soft drink and see if you agree with this week’s top three most annoying annoyances.  

Cheap people… 

The list begins with all those cheap asses who insist on putting a price tag on absolutely any and everything.  The first question that immediately comes to mind when running into these cheapskates is, “What the hell?”  Obviously, no one ever bothered to warn these folks that cheap people don’t get invited to parties, mainly because whoever invites them knows they are going to show up empty-handed and will most likely, no doubt, leave with a doggy bag.  They don’t have very many friends because everyone knows a cheap person is too tight on a dollar, so hanging out will likely be reduced to free fun, like the zoo, which of course is the last place a person wants to go when it’s five degrees outside or raining hard enough to mimic a baby tsunami.  The same theory applies to the dating game.  A cheap person will take you to the lowest starred restaurant on the map, or will buy you the most useless and inexpensive presents during the holidays or any other special occasion if, of course, they muster up enough change to buy you anything at all.  

“A house of delusion is cheap to build but drafty to live in.”

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 Rude drivers… 

Pulling up the rear to cheap-ass people are drivers that have no consideration for other drivers…and no, we aren’t referring specifically to cab drivers.  Though they are probably THE worst drivers in the world (next to Washington DC subway train conductors), everyone expects them to be lousy drivers.  Instead we are talking about folks who aren’t exactly smart enough to be paid for their bad driving.  For example, aggressive drivers who cross lanes without using a turn signal; or drivers who refuse to let you cross lanes even though your turn signal has been on since you started your car in your home drive-way; or drivers that drive about 90mph just before coming to a sudden stop for a speed bump; or drivers that pick their nose while looking inside their nostrils in the rear-view mirror instead of focusing on the family of ducks crossing the street; or drivers who drive slower than my Aunt Edna’s bowel movements; or drivers that practice profane road rage just before Sunday worship service; or drivers that blast their music so loud they can’t hear the horns blowing behind them or the people screaming for their lives in front of them; or new drivers; or even worse – old drivers.  You all drive me crazy!    

“Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly.” 

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 People that live in the past…

Rounding out the list of this week’s top three pet peeves are people that live in the past.  I’m talking about people that have lusted after, fantasized about, pined over, stalked, and/or harped about the person you were years prior to the person you are today.  People that are in love with a memory of someone they once knew versus falling in love with the new person you have become.  Those people that want you to entertain their life long fantasies about what could have been or what once was instead of the reality of what is now.  Those folks must have left their brains in the past if they think that nothing has changed since the passing of about a hundred million full moons.  

Now that I think about it though, I guess it wouldn’t be fair to limit this peeve to only those folks who are hallucinogenic about their feelings and emotions.  We could, should and will apply this one to those persons who refuse to let go of past grudges about some off the wall, unimportant crap that nobody no longer cares about.  

“There’s no future in living in the past.” 

 

 

 

 

 

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of October 9-14, 2011

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. 

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Capricorn

December 22 – January 19

Grape soda is not considered a sexy body fragrance. It should be, but sadly it’s not.

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Aquarius

January 20 – February 18

You are multi-talented enough to talk and piss people off at the same time.

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Pisces

February 19 – March 20

Are you good looking from afar or far from good looking?

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Aries

March 21 – April 19

Your handle on life is like the handle of a cheap handbag.

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Taurus

April 20 – May 20

You don’t lack in the power of speech. You lack in the power of conversation.

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Gemini

May 21 – June 20

Knowledge is realizing that the street is one-way. Wisdom is looking in both directions anyway.

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Cancer

June 21 – July 22

If the grass is greener on the other side, you can bet the water bill is higher.

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Leo

July 23 – August 22

Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.

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Virgo

August 23 – September 22

You won’t find a man alive who has ever complained about a faulty parachute.

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Libra

September 23 – October 22

There are three people that live in this world: People who make things happen, people who watch things happen and people who ask what happened.

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Scorpio

October 23 – November 21

“Always” and “never” are two words you should always remember never to use.

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Sagittarius

November 22 – December 21

A sharp tongue can kill without a knife.

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Quote of the week:   “It takes one day to destroy that which took one hundred years to build.”