Posts Tagged ‘babysitting’

What can I do to mark this special occasion? 100th post and my second anniversary on WordPress. Currently sitting at 2400 views. Don’t get me wrong, I imagine there are bloggers out there who could pull those kind of numbers in an afternoon but it has also gone beyond my friends humouring me as well. Some poor bastard in Chile once landed on my page after a Google search and the top views after the US and Canada are Russia. Apparently my sparkling wit is crossing language barriers, what the fuck did you manage to do this week?

Well if television has taught me anything it has certainly taught me that it is time for a clip show. Ah clip shows, the great blue balling of televised entertainment. In tonight’s episode I will be dragging in some of my best quips from Facebook, Twitter and various washroom stalls. I provide them with as little context as is humanly possible, so they can be enjoyed as nature intended.


So…if ever my Google searches become public then I will have a hard time explaining today’s activities. I also need to delete a few pictures before handing anyone my phone again.

– My ex-boss’s dog is now showing up as a “friend I may know”. Nice work Zuckerberg.

– Facebook is like German porn. No one is having fun until someone gets pissed on.


– I may have to stop watching Justified for a few days. My internal monologue now has a Kentucky accent.

– Why do they even need ads for tampons and pads anymore? Have you ladies not formed some sort of brand loyalty by now? Are you really watching TV in hopes of gaining some fresh perspective on it between shows?

– I have regrets. There are parts of my past that I would like to forget, questions about my behaviour that I can never fully answer. Like why the fuck did I ever watch Full House?


Teaching my nephew all about survival of the fittest. Specifically, I am teaching him he can survive for a few minutes while I go whiz.

– This is why you don’t want me to babysit your kids.


– That wiener wasn’t very tasty at all, that was a substandard wiener as far as I am concerned. I like my wieners to explode with flavour, dammit!

Time for a breakfast of regrets followed by a lunch of shame. Sensible dinner though.

– “All the flavours of Tuscany in our new Tuscan chicken sandwich.” – apparently the flavour of Tuscany is raw onion. 

“All the flavours of the Southwest in our Turkey chipotle sandwich.” – apparently the flavour of the Southwest is also raw onion.

– We are sitting around having turkey dinner and both my nephews come back over from the kiddie table to stand beside their father’s seat with their plates held out in front of them, waiting patiently for the chance to ask for help getting seconds.

I gazed at them, I gazed over at my brother and in my best British accent I said “Please sir, can they have some more?”

Maybe you had to be there…


– So I go to a job interview in the river valley and I am climbing back up one of those horrible long wooden staircases to get back to the top of the hill to catch the LRT. I look behind me and there is an attractive young women following me up in her jogging attire. I am near the top so there is NO chance I can even pretend that I am not a wheezing, sweaty mess by the time she catches up…fucking great.

So she gets up next to me and I say “Wow (pant,pant) guess I am really out of shape (wheeze).”

She says “Well, stairs are always hard for everyone.”

I look over at her and she isn’t breathing heavily or sweating or even working hard. 



– If you think your stockpile of assault rifles and canned goods are the only thing keeping you safe from the government coming to get you, then you clearly don’t know what a Predator Drone is.


– Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne…and I call Big Spoon.

There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods…and their unending hunger for cuddling.

–  I love the Imperial Fists (mostly because it reminds me of fisting and I have the maturity level of a 13 year old) but why did they think canary yellow armour would strike fear into the hearts of their enemies?

– If I ever become a millionaire I am going to build all of the Warhammer 40K flyer kits and have a team of scientists test them for aerodynamics and feasibility. That is the sort of thing us rich folk can waste our time with.


love is


– Some days I just don’t feel all that mentally sharp. Thankfully nature gave me a penis to do most of my thinking with. I am currently using it to do my typing as well.


– I want to start a band called Misfiring Neurons, every set will have the lead singer flailing his hands about or staring off into space like he is trying to remember the words to the song. Meanwhile the band will do instrumental versions of classic hits.

– I am starting my own gang, that is how bad ass I am. We will smuggle porn to the pornless masses and hang out at our clubhouse eating sandwiches our moms make for us. Probably tuna fish and pickle.

– I need a sugar momma to buy me some acrylic paints. Also some mints to get the taste of rich old lady out of my mouth.

– Much like Tupperware I must be burped to maintain freshness.

– Hopefully they are doing fine at work without me, But not to fine…don’t want them figuring out how non-essential I really am. (as true today as when it was written)

– There is just some shit you can’t Photoshop your way out of.

– I had an epiphany…but I cleaned up after.

– The weekend is almost here and it is time for my favorite things. Staying up late, sleeping in, reading a good book, watching a good movie, cooking bacon in the nude, applying ointment to my third degree burns…

– Soft rock with less talk? Why that sounds like witchcraft, sir and I shall not abide it in my home.

Video Games

– So I sneak up on a guy in Dishonored and strangle him unconscious while he is pissing on a bush. Just one problem…why did he STOP pissing when I strangled him?

My Pity Party (man, even I feel bad for me now)

– I would like to invite you all to my Pity Party. 

Cocktails will be at 5 (although they will probably be sub-standard). I couldn’t get a band or DJ so the entertainment will instead be dramatic readings of some essays titled “My terrible inadequacies as a lover” and “Why my parents never loved me”. Dinner will be store-brand mac and cheese with past pull-date hot dogs cut up in it…because that is all I deserve. There is only enough for about four people though, so the rest of you will just have to wonder why you weren’t special enough to get any.

Party games will include “Mock the genitalia” and “Guess how successful my siblings are”…and possibly Twister if there is a demand for it. The entire party will be held in one corner of the kitchen while a better party filled with more interesting people will simultaneously be happening in the next room. We will no doubt be wrapping up early so we can all get home to feed our multitude of cats and read a book before falling asleep alone and unsatisfied. No need to R.S.V.P. as I already know you wouldn’t come anyway.


– People tell me to follow my dreams, do what I am passionate about. How do you explain to people that you never wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer or a writer? I wanted to be a Jedi Knight. I wanted to be Batman. The best I can shoot for in the real world is a decent career, nice house, wife, kids, maybe a dog. I am not mad I can’t be Batman, nobody else gets to be Batman either, I just don’t view those other things as the consolation prize. Your reality sucks and I am happy to substitute it with a few Neil Gaiman books and some good video games. 

I know it is hard to explain but I am pretty sure the thousands of people preparing for a zombie apocalypse that is never coming or have sex in furry costumes are aware of what I am trying to say.

Rancid Monke