I’ve decided to rent out the space on your right to The Panic Blog. It’s a nice little dark blog… both in design and humor. It’s well worth the trip for all you little red pills out there… so take a trip down the rabbit hole and click on the link to your right…
So, The Nick has moved into her new house… officially. Is she happy? Well, not really. See… she now has
less closet space, less room in her room, and his paying twice as much as she was in her previous place. The difference… well… this place she OWNS. Right… it’s a big thing to go from renting to owning. The American Dream and all that. So last night’s big issue was her television. She has a 36 incher that she can’t lift onto her new television stand. So, tonight when she comes into work she has this look… and if looks could kill… well, I’d be 24 feet under by now pushing up palm trees.
So I tried talking to her. She’s all moody. Then… she slams me over a work IM. I was taken aback at first… only to discover through a few more… that she had expected me to go over her house last night and hoist it onto the stand. Did I miss something??? Then she starts complaining about how she’s single… and how I love midgets… and how I never make the time for her. At this point, I slammed the emergency brakes on… why? Because she has ditched hanging out with me at least 7 times. She claims to be jealous when other women talk to me but she has always talked to all these guy friends on the phone when we do hang out. She always asks me to hang out when she knows I have plans either with my son or someone else. WTF? So… guess what I’m doing tomorrow? Right… sending my brother to go lift the tv into place… maybe he’ll have better luck than me.
So I met this new girl online the other day. Her name is Isabelle… she seems really sweet and smart. She also likes to write (it’s like my new thing… gotta find fellow writers) and has an interesting perspective on things. I’ve really only talked to her twice… but I find her on my mind alot. She’s somewhat in the New York area… so maybe one day we’ll get a drink, swap some stories, and then fall madly in love with each other and move to Guam.
I have recently had incredible cravings for chocolate. So… lucky me the other night, I go out to dinner with The Steff, Mel, and Mel’s daughter… who at the wise age of 7 has brought a case of the World’s Finest Chocolates with her. So after spending fourteen dollars of hard cash for every available almond bar… and only eating one… I can’t find them. I have looked high… and low… and not a sign.
So now I have placed a five dollar bounty on the capture of the candy bar culprit. It ain’t right… it just ain’t right.
less closet space, less room in her room, and his paying twice as much as she was in her previous place. The difference… well… this place she OWNS. Right… it’s a big thing to go from renting to owning. The American Dream and all that. So last night’s big issue was her television. She has a 36 incher that she can’t lift onto her new television stand. So, tonight when she comes into work she has this look… and if looks could kill… well, I’d be 24 feet under by now pushing up palm trees.So I tried talking to her. She’s all moody. Then… she slams me over a work IM. I was taken aback at first… only to discover through a few more… that she had expected me to go over her house last night and hoist it onto the stand. Did I miss something??? Then she starts complaining about how she’s single… and how I love midgets… and how I never make the time for her. At this point, I slammed the emergency brakes on… why? Because she has ditched hanging out with me at least 7 times. She claims to be jealous when other women talk to me but she has always talked to all these guy friends on the phone when we do hang out. She always asks me to hang out when she knows I have plans either with my son or someone else. WTF? So… guess what I’m doing tomorrow? Right… sending my brother to go lift the tv into place… maybe he’ll have better luck than me.
So I met this new girl online the other day. Her name is Isabelle… she seems really sweet and smart. She also likes to write (it’s like my new thing… gotta find fellow writers) and has an interesting perspective on things. I’ve really only talked to her twice… but I find her on my mind alot. She’s somewhat in the New York area… so maybe one day we’ll get a drink, swap some stories, and then fall madly in love with each other and move to Guam.
I have recently had incredible cravings for chocolate. So… lucky me the other night, I go out to dinner with The Steff, Mel, and Mel’s daughter… who at the wise age of 7 has brought a case of the World’s Finest Chocolates with her. So after spending fourteen dollars of hard cash for every available almond bar… and only eating one… I can’t find them. I have looked high… and low… and not a sign.
So now I have placed a five dollar bounty on the capture of the candy bar culprit. It ain’t right… it just ain’t right.
I would normally say I was surfing when I read this… because normally it would be true… but that isn’t the case. I read this posting entitled The Purple Pill in a blog called Pixie Dust. So how did I come across it???
Well, Nikki from Match sent me the link. After becoming enraged at my blog… hell she got her own!!! She was also kind enough to advise me I might be mentioned… and although I was not mentioned by name… or the pet name she calls me by (The Asshole for those of you who forgot)… well, I’m sure we can see where she received some inspiration on it.
To be honest… I really really really really really enjoy her writing… hence why if you look to the left, you will now see she has taken a spot under the Daily Reads. She’s only the third blog to do so… because I am VERY finicky on my Daily Reads… and well… like I said, I really like her writing.
To those of you who are curious if I e-mailed her back… yes. However, I will not be posting that e-mail… I will leave you with the knowledge it was done… and no matter how I tried not to sound like a sniveling apologetic scumbag… I still think I did.
Score: Nikki- 1 Dog- 0
Well, Nikki from Match sent me the link. After becoming enraged at my blog… hell she got her own!!! She was also kind enough to advise me I might be mentioned… and although I was not mentioned by name… or the pet name she calls me by (The Asshole for those of you who forgot)… well, I’m sure we can see where she received some inspiration on it.
To be honest… I really really really really really enjoy her writing… hence why if you look to the left, you will now see she has taken a spot under the Daily Reads. She’s only the third blog to do so… because I am VERY finicky on my Daily Reads… and well… like I said, I really like her writing.
To those of you who are curious if I e-mailed her back… yes. However, I will not be posting that e-mail… I will leave you with the knowledge it was done… and no matter how I tried not to sound like a sniveling apologetic scumbag… I still think I did.
Score: Nikki- 1 Dog- 0
I finally got SMACKED by the lovely ladies at I Talk Too Much. I got 2 Smacks.
Now here’s the thing… they criticized the logo on the right column… yeah… I agree with them… hence why I changed it. Please note new logo. There were also comments about the white font on the black background… well… I’ll take that criticism, appreciate it, but say thanks but I’m kinda happy with that.
Then she goes on to say how I have alot of drama apparently in my life… between my ex-wife (yeah, check)… the girl on Match (yeah, check)… and my girlfriend (mmmm, no… MIA… hence why I’m on Match)… she was kind enough to say I seem like a nice guy. Although, she did add I have enough drama to suck the life out of any friendship there might be, and she gave me one smack because Ms. Ann Thorp is currently renting my space, and another smack for being an EMT (“assumably saving lives” as she put it… relax on that end sweetheart, I got plenty-O-saves and the Burger King bars to back it) but nothing for the actual blog… I greatly enjoyed my smacking.
Alot of people it seems aren’t fond of the lovelies and their methods… but I greatly appreciate it… so I say a big THANK YOU to them for smacking me down and a special THANK YOU to Princess Pottymouth who did the actual smacking!!!
Now here’s the thing… they criticized the logo on the right column… yeah… I agree with them… hence why I changed it. Please note new logo. There were also comments about the white font on the black background… well… I’ll take that criticism, appreciate it, but say thanks but I’m kinda happy with that.
Then she goes on to say how I have alot of drama apparently in my life… between my ex-wife (yeah, check)… the girl on Match (yeah, check)… and my girlfriend (mmmm, no… MIA… hence why I’m on Match)… she was kind enough to say I seem like a nice guy. Although, she did add I have enough drama to suck the life out of any friendship there might be, and she gave me one smack because Ms. Ann Thorp is currently renting my space, and another smack for being an EMT (“assumably saving lives” as she put it… relax on that end sweetheart, I got plenty-O-saves and the Burger King bars to back it) but nothing for the actual blog… I greatly enjoyed my smacking.
Alot of people it seems aren’t fond of the lovelies and their methods… but I greatly appreciate it… so I say a big THANK YOU to them for smacking me down and a special THANK YOU to Princess Pottymouth who did the actual smacking!!!
As a guy, there are certain things that we as boys must do in our society to become men. While some societies require their boys to jump off towers with vines tied around their ankles, or stick a bone through the physical item that makes you a man… here there is a variety of different things a boy can choose when journeying to manhood.
Some of those things include getting a driver’s liscense, drinking your first keg, or joining the Army. The one that I chose when it was my turn for manhood was what I thought the easiest. I got a subscription to Playboy.
Yes, on my 18th birthday, I mailed in that card with my brand new MasterCard Credit Card number on it. In six weeks the black plastic bag arrived in its shimmering glory… and my journey to manhood as approved by society had occurred. For a great number of years, I continued my subscription, mainly because I added it to my list of “MUST WRITE FOR” periodicals (that list has dwindled over the years, having formerly had TIME and Forbes on it, but Playboy remains) but then slowly my life changed, and my subscription expired.
After reading The Queen and her royal family: …in defense of my husband’s Playboy I have resolved to renew my subscription. Kudos to The Queen and her brood for reminding me of the joys of manhood.
Some of those things include getting a driver’s liscense, drinking your first keg, or joining the Army. The one that I chose when it was my turn for manhood was what I thought the easiest. I got a subscription to Playboy.
Yes, on my 18th birthday, I mailed in that card with my brand new MasterCard Credit Card number on it. In six weeks the black plastic bag arrived in its shimmering glory… and my journey to manhood as approved by society had occurred. For a great number of years, I continued my subscription, mainly because I added it to my list of “MUST WRITE FOR” periodicals (that list has dwindled over the years, having formerly had TIME and Forbes on it, but Playboy remains) but then slowly my life changed, and my subscription expired.
After reading The Queen and her royal family: …in defense of my husband’s Playboy I have resolved to renew my subscription. Kudos to The Queen and her brood for reminding me of the joys of manhood.
