A Historic Leap Year Bedtime Story: You’ve Got to Pay to Play

Fellas, today is the one day that you really don’t want to wear deodorant – especially if you’re single or once hooked up with a woman who saw hearts on your nipples instead of androgenic hair.

History deems February 29th as the day when any three-eyed bearded woman, whose weight happens to be more than a double-trunked compact automobile, is allowed to pursue any man of her desire relentlessly for 24 hours and beat the hell out of him until he agrees to marry her.  Refusal of the proposed nuptuals would come at a price.

The tale began some time in 5th century Ireland, when a desperate wench in the heat of unbridled passion finally asked the question to her then inamorato, “What’s love got to do with it?”, which [arguably] later inspired Tina Turner’s 1984 hit single “What’s Love Got To Do With It?”  

The wench, very generous with her “jewelry box,” was pretty pissed off at her gentlemen caller for hooking up with her for her booty without taking up interest in asking for her hand in marriage.  Tired of being labeled a harlot, one night while wrapped in the arms of her philanderer, she finally complained of the sexual unfairness.  Much like today, the man friend spoke from his head in the southern region rather than the northern, and finally relented to set aside February 29th as the day the harlot would be allowed the right to ask for his hand in marriage.  As years passed and their relationship dissipated, four years succeeding their emotionless relations the moll took the sir up on his offer, not discerning the family he had since started with another woman of whom he’d developed genuine feelings for.

The harlot, who had not heard from her ex mister in a few turns of a set of 365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes and 46 seconds, tracked down her old beau to insist that he honor the promise he made to her in the bed where they lay one February night four calendars passed.  She had ridden a mule to the gentleman’s manor and hid behind a tall horse in a backyard stable with unsubtle patience, awaiting his bride to leave the grounds with their young.  Once the beau was left alone in the abode, she entered the estate, stripped him of his clothes as any honorable 5th century hooker would, and screwed him silly.  With each pelvic thrust upon his, she reminded him of the promise he made to her four years preceding that moment of conscripted fornication.  Now, being a faithful gentleman betrothed to the woman who bore his namesake, the former gigolo refused the harlot’s proposal.  Luckily for him, this woman was scorned in the 5th century and not in present day time.  Although the history of this tale is not completely substantiated, it is rumored that once the proposal was rejected, the harlot forced a razor to the gentleman’s neck and demanded that he repay her heartbreak with a final [tongue] kiss, a silk dress or a pair of gloves.

…talk about a cheap date.

Since then, February 29th has been associated with the day where a woman can be a butch for 24 hours and ask for a man’s hand in marriage or make him pay a penalty for [the proposal] rejection, which if you ask me is a win-win for the woman.  Who’s being unfair now?


Quote of the Week:  “Love is not having to say you’re sorry, unless of course your private parts stink when you’re getting special kisses.”

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The Ineffective, Yet Highly Enjoyable Hottywood Diet

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a fat kid trapped in a skinny man’s body.  Some say they hate me for that; some say they are jealous; and others haven’t bothered to form an opinion one way or another.  You may think whatever you want of my ability to eat 200 chicken wings in one sitting, but you can’t help but to admire my commitment to stuffing my face until my stomach or ass reach a code red for explosion.  Before we go any further, I’m reminded of a limerick my family used to sing to me every time I farted after a big meal: 

“Better to let it out and be ashamed

Than to hold it back and bust a vein!” 

Most of you who are reading this right now are probably grossed out by what you’re reading, but sometimes even clean reading can get a little messy.  Here’s when you challenge your sense of humor and either go with the flow or just go.  

I didn’t bring you here to discuss my gastric issues.  What I came here to say is “down with dieting — BOOOO!” What’s the point?  It’s no fun.  After all, the first three letters of the word “diet” are D-I-E.  Having said that, below is the very ineffective, yet most highly enjoyable Hottywood Diet, guaranteed not to make you lose a single pound!  Hey, look at it this way, the more fat that dangles around your love-handles only means there’s more of you to love.  Own up to it.  Hell, I do.  I’ve already decided that in my next life I’m going to come back as a pie-eating champion.  

Anyway, enjoy the not-so-helpful diet tips below.  If you’re going to eat yourself into a frenzy, you might as well enjoy every last crumb.  

FOODS TO AVOID:

Avoid nothing!  Eat any damn thing you want.   That’s the best part about the Hottywood Diet.  There are no repercussions; no second thoughts.  Just enjoy the moment.  And if anyone tells you to avoid any kind of food, you tell them to avoid the fist that you’ll be throwing at their forehead.  …and you’ll only be throwing a fist because you probably ate the last cream pie. 

INSTEAD OF STARVING YOURSELF TO MEET SOCIETY’S DEMANDS OF “NORMAL”: 

  1. Eat about 25%-50% above your calorie maintenance level.  More, if you’re an overachiever or one greedy motherf*cker. 
  2. Don’t spread your calories into 5-6 small meals.  Instead, eat 5-6 big meals!  Dessert and snacks count as bonus points.  If you’re going to go all out — go all the way.   
  3. Drink plenty of kool-aid and carbonated sodas instead of tasteless water.  Alcohol is also a fun beverage to wash your meals down with, especially in the morning. 
  4. Toss your weight scale in front of a herd of angry ostriches.  If you follow this ineffective diet, you won’t need it anymore.   
  5. Exercise is the ENEMY!  Don’t bother working out.  You’ll be too tired after you eat anyway. 
  6. And last but not least, the only pills you should be taking are those “All-Night-Long” pills for men and women.  Who the hell heard of taking a pill to curb your appetite???  Talk about a hard pill to swallow, geez.   

People of Earth invest way too much time, effort and energy into attempting to lose weight.  Everyone except people in a few third-world countries of course, but that’s a horse of a different color.  If we weren’t meant to eat ourselves into deep dips inside our couches, then why on Earth is food so good?  Don’t blame us for eating the heavy carbs and loads of sugar.  Our appetites are keeping businesses afloat – Popeyes; McDonalds; Sonic; Dairy Queen.  We’re contributing a lot to the livelihood of businesses; keeping jobs filled; providing an American justice.

I could go on and on about how we should avoid b*tches like Jenny Craig and that whole Nutrisystem scam sham.  You only have one life to live so you might as well live it to the fullest…or live while being full.  And it certainly doesn’t take 90% of any effort to do that.  Especially if there’s a ham bone tied to a string on a stick at the end of effort’s trail.  

Now I’m not shoving any food down anyone’s throat so if you gain a few extra pounds, good for you, but you can’t say it was at my hand.  In fact, my hands are full and greasy, thanks to these fries and this fully loaded pepper jack burger!   So on that note — peace out ya’ll!  I’m about to make my inner fat kid very happy. 

Nom Nom Nom

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Quote of the week:   “Sex is just as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other.” 

Hottywood’s HORRORscopes: Week of August 1-7, 2010

Not every week can be as good as the last but there’s always fun in finding out what’s in store.

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 

It’s not a good thing if your fingers look like you’ve been changing oil all day.

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Aquarius

January 20 – February 18

Put your feet in the right place,  then stand strong.  Just make sure you’re not walking your dog at the time.  NobodyLikesASh_ttyFoot.com

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Pisces

February 19 – March 20   

Having toenails like a garden rake is not sexy. 

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Aries

March 21 – April 19 

It’s probably time to change your perfume/cologne if the scent of a backed-up toilet is the first thing people smell when you walk through the door.

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Taurus

April 20 – May 20 

If you can draw a ‘Hop Scotch’ template on concrete with the heel of your foot, something’s definitely wrong.

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Gemini

May 21 – June 20 

As long as you’re happy expecting nothing, you’ll never be disappointed. 

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Cancer

June 21 – July 22 

Age doesn’t protect you from love. 

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Leo

July 23 – August 22 

Blame someone else for all of your mistakes.  Wear comfortable shoes.

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Virgo

August 23 – September 22 

If you think you’re going out of your mind at work, you are.  A cubicle is nothing more than a padded cell without a door. 

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Libra

September 23 – October 22 

Whatever the law is that prohibits you from being wrong only exists in that little box that you live in. 

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Scorpio

October 23 – November 21 

Don’t leave your lunch on the side of a public restroom sink. 

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Sagittarius

November 22 – December 21   

Beware of cross-dressing midgets. 

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Quote of the Week:  “If Harry Potter is so magical, why can’t he cure is own eye sight?” 

‘Til Death Does This Relationship Part: That’s What Frenemies Are For

Friendship.  We all know what it means, those of us who are lucky enough to have friends.  But these days, can we really consider ourselves so lucky to have an inner circle?  I’d like to think so, but not before I take note that there is this little thing called reality or scripted reality if we refer to the ladies of The Hills, The Simple Life or the Housewives of Atlanta. 
 
Since the dawn of time man has experienced friendship; the cave man, the ice man, the knight, the pirate, the slave and even the meter maid.  For it is true that no man is an island, not even those who look as if they can eat one.  Despite the backstabbing and the double-crossing, and the lying, cheating, stealing and blasphemy, our friends — our true friends — the ones whom we’ve determined are the real deal after we’ve cut through all the red tape — are the people who are there for us. 
 
As we look for these friends along our aimless walk through this universe, we look for qualities in people like: the tendency to desire what is best for us; empathy and sympathy; honesty and perhaps a little harmless lying.   ‘Harmless lying’, in terms of them telling us we look amazing and how the sun rises and sets around us, when we know we look like sh*t or probably make no sense in our words or actions.   A true confidant knows when and how to boost your ego and lead you to believe your dilusion is acceptable. 
 
However as important as it may be to have your road dawgs by your side, it’s equally as important to know who the hell you are as an individual, because as true as your friends may be, they may in some cases, not be worth sh*t.  C’mon, don’t look so shocked.  Though there are people we keep dear to our hearts, some of those same people are crooks, dead beats, underachievers, and point blank losers.  And sometimes, those are their good qualities.  But those qualities are all about what they do, not who they are.  In any case, knowing their capabilities of destruction through their powers that are some times if not most, used for evil — it’s always best to keep your Spidey senses sharp because you never know when its your time for them to turn on you. 
 
In so doing it’s always best to remember to look out for yourself 1st!  If you don’t, you could be at risk of clouding your judgment through what you want to believe on the basis of your friendship.  Know your friends.  Know their strengths and weaknesses.  Plan for the unexpected.  Hell, plan for the expected.  If you have two friends who you know are pathological liars and they’re both revealing some ridiculous story that they think you’re dumb enough to believe, then use that to your advantage verus getting angry and crossing out some names in your address book.  Figure out which one of those liars are selling you the better load of crock and keep that liar on your team.  A good liar will always come in handy when you’re stuck in a jam.  If your conscious prevents you from hanging with that class of people, you could always  recall the words and envison (in your mind, of course) that funny little limmerick I used to sing as a child, “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”  It’s okay to be optimistic, but don’t be a dummy.  In fact, know your facts!  According to a study documented in the June 2006 issue of the journal American Sociological Review, Americans are thought to be suffering a loss in the quality and quantity of close friendships since at least 1985.  The study states 25% of Americans have no close confidants, and the average total number of confidants per citizen has dropped from four to two.

According to the study:

  • Americans’ dependence on family as a safety net went up from 57% to 80%
  • Americans’ dependence on a partner or spouse went up from 5% to 9%
Where does that leave everyone else?  Don’t all answer at once.  Just think about it silently to yourselves. 
 
Either way, good or bad, it’s a good thing to have someone in your corner.  Someone who’ll pay your bail when you get caught lifting a Mr. Goodbar at the neighborhood convenient store; someone who’ll have a ziploc bag full of ice after you’ve just gotten your butt whooped for shooting off at the mouth; or someone who won’t laugh in your face when the girl you’ve been eyeing all night finally gives you closure and rejects your ass.  After all, that’s what friends are for. 
***
The next time your BFF or even your frenemy steers you in the path of wanting to put a spoonful of beaver droppings in their favorite pair of shoes — don’t.  There’s one thing that’ll favor you to remember and applies to every single person walking the face of this planet: “It’s cheaper to keep ‘er!”  That’s why we say 90% of any effort is getting started.  Thinking of your game plan isn’t always easy, but once you’ve got that out of the way, everything just falls into place.  Until then, own your frenemism ’til death does the relationship part. 
    • Quote of the week:   “Love is blind.  Friendship tries not to notice.”

     
 

Lunchtime Confessions: Don’t F*ck w/ Man After He’s Eaten

Contrary to popular belief, anyone or anything that stumbles across a hungry man’s path 20 minutes before and up to 45 minutes after the high noon lunch hour better be well-clad in metal armor and armed with a can of air freshener because stepping into that kind of line of fire [while someone is hungry or full] is a sure way to get the sh*t beaten out of you. 

A long time ago, a caveman came up with this rule while he was sh*tting in the bushes moments after ingesting a baby dinosaur leg.  Sadly, the caveman was attacked by the mother dinosaur, which followed his scent back to his camp after she couldn’t find her young.  What the mother dinosaur didn’t know was that it is never wise to mess with a man after he’s eaten.  Because every man would prefer at least 30 minutes of self time for his food to digest and his gas to pass, f*cking with him before his stomach settles is one bad idea — even for a dinosaur.  The ass kicking of the mother dinosaur led to two things:

  1. The extinction of dinosaurs, and
  2. The rule that no one should mess with a man after his greedy ass has finished eating.

For this rule to have existed since the dawn of time, you would think that in this modern age, stupid ass office employees and nagging wives would’ve learned to keep their damn mouths closed during a very memorable pre and post experience of the stuffing of the face.  Alas, they have not. 

Work and home are two of the most common places where someone has received a horrible beat down because people have chosen to violate man’s only chance of peaceful, self-deserved alone-time.  So many of these violent acts caused man — and congress — to insist that the average man spend his post-eating quality time in a restroom facility, closed off from the rest of the unappreciative world.  There has not been, unfortunately, a time set aside for all the greedy bastards who have yet to embark on a pre-eating stage of hungrism.  Because of the lack of commitment in protecting our citizens from such a brutal warning of no measure, it’s just advised to keep your damn distance until you’ve heard a belch or smelled a fart for yourself. 

Many citizens of the great working world have all agreed that there are key phrases to let a person know when the window of opportunity is temporarily nailed shut for any approach of annoyance or plain old bullsh*t.  Such phrases are listed below:

  • F*ck off.
  • Get the f*ck out of here.
  • Go f*ck yourself.
  • I don’t care. 
  • Who gives a sh*t? 
  • If you value your life, then go away. 
  • Now’s not a good time and never isn’t looking so good. 

These are just a few warnings to let a person know when now’s not a good time. 

It doesn’t take that much exertion to avoid getting your face smashed.  Just keep your pestering ass away from all people whose stomachs growl louder than their raspy voices or whose butt stench smells like cheese and dill pickles.  Once you’ve mastered the art of knowing when to stay the hell away from people, you’ve mastered a very useful skill.  All it takes is a little effort.  And 90% of any effort is getting started. 

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Quote of the week:   “Never go to a doctor whose office plants have died.”

You Are Your Own Funniest Joke

How many times do you wake up in the morning and roll out of bed, only to be awakened by the sound of your heavy ass body hitting the floor?  What about tripping up the escalator stairs as you come out of the subway station, running late for work, of course?  Dare you recount the number of times you couldn’t hold in that last bit of gas after wolfing down any value meal from the McDonald’s menu?  Though the average person may point their fingers and laugh at your clumsy or greedy ass, it saves you a red face if you can just learn to laugh at yourself.  Sure, sometimes you’d much rather stick your head in a deep hole like an ostrich in order to avoid certain types of embarrassment, but if you can’t find humor in your own mistakes then you damn sure have no right to point out the mistakes of others.  And everyone agrees that it’s fun to point out the mistakes of others.  Even if you don’t concur verbally, your inner “real person” would agree, as he/she reminds you of that one time where you were rightfully so the butt of the joke. 

Being clumsy may be something to laugh at, but it’s also something to smile about.  There are way too many people who take themselves [and life] too seriously.  Every now and then you should be reminded that your ass is stupid, lazy, clutzy, greedy or gassy.  It’s what makes you normal – whatever your definition of normal is.  If by normal, you think “farting in church during a silent prayer,” then go for it!  Sometimes no one around you will find your faults funny, but that’s all the more reason to laugh – in that case, at everyone else for not seeing the sense of humor in life…and the noise your butt makes when you accidentally poot in public.  Just hope Jesus finds it equally as funny come judgment day. 

Life is filled with “oops” moments.  For instance, forgetting to put on underwear and having a gust of wind expose your ass crack for all to see.  Most people would call you a skank, skeez, or whore.  However, there are some people who would commend you for being so openly slutty and would probably wink, smile or secretly toss their phone numbers at you on a wrinkled up napkin.  Another example is if you accidentally get a hard on at the beach when seeing some fine piece of hump-lay run past you, jiggling in all the right places.  Once again, there’s a perfect opportunity for someone to laugh at you for being so damn horny.  If you’re really confident in yourself, the joke will be on them when you stand at full attention and leave the beach hand in hand with someone who got all moist inside for checking you out from afar!  Whether you’re a clutz or a freak, just remember the wise words of the great Michael Jackson, “You Are Not Alone.”    

Whatever the reason anyone may have for acknowledging just how much of an idiot you are, laughing at yourself will ease the humiliation of being the talked-about loser that no one wants to be around.  Laugh and the world laughs with you. Weep and it keeps on laughing.  All it takes is a little effort.  And 90% of any effort is getting started.  The bottom line is, if everyone around is going to be laughing at you, you might as well be in on the joke.

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Quote of the week:   “Be thankful for laughter, except when milk comes out of your nose.”

Remember Your First Heart-Felt “F*ck You!”?

Not all memories of your past are good ones.  Sure, there are some.  The first time you got laid, the first time you ate popcorn and potato chips at the same time, even your first solo in the shower.  But it’s those bad memories that stick out like sore thumbs.  For example – the first time you got laid, the first person to ever break your heart or your first solo OUT of the shower.  Though many people sit and reminisce on the days of yesteryear, you, along with about a kabillion other people sit and reminisce on that one person who led you on, only to step on your heart like a roach invading a home in the projects. 

Granted, you may find yourself asking yourself the question, “What the hell was I thinking?” at times, but those memories aren’t all a bag of crap – at least they shouldn’t be.  You’d be insensitive or inhuman if they were.  Maybe even a moron for dealing with such harshness of a shattered love, at least in the concept of what you thought love should be.  In some ways, you kind of owe your “first” a word of thanks.  Not in the sense of thanking them with a bouquet of roses, unless those roses are dead and wilted.  But thanking them for allowing you the opportunity to learn that you are so much better a person without them.  After all, how would you know how to deal with a broken heart if it wasn’t for that person, who lied to you, cheated on you and made you more of a less-wanted option as opposed to a can’t-do-without necessity?  Just think, there’s so many other reasons you can give thanks to that individual who never really gave a sh*t about you in private, only in public when it really mattered, when their set of friends looked on to your scripted relationship with envy.  You should stand proudly and hold your head up high as you thank the motherf*cker for:  

  • ruining someone else’s false hopes of living and loving happily ever after,
  • assisting you in losing weight after all those lonely nights of warm tears and loss of appetite, 
  • for no longer making you feel like an unwanted fool for forgetting special days like your birthday, Christmas and Valentine’s Day,
  • for no longer using you as a guinea pig for a love affair they prayed to have sans YOU,
  • for blaming you for a mistake they made, and
  • last but not least, for teaching you how to say and mean the most profound words of our country’s history, “F*ck you!”

You’d be just as much of a liar as they were if you admitted out loud that you no longer harbored any positive or negative thoughts to the tainted past. No one ever moves on completely…not when their “first” is concerned.  It’s just easier to hold on to all the profane thoughts of a “plastic” relationship than it is to admit you were a fool for love at all.  The truth is you’re going to be a fool for love many times over, even if you’re lucky enough to find your soul mate. 

Finding that one true love isn’t a matter of effort, it’s a matter of two things: (1) time and (2) patience.  Two things most people believe they don’t have a lot of.    

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Quote of the week:    “The stupidest mistake in life is thinking the one who hurt you the most, won’t hurt you again.”