And you thought you had it rough!

This little animal is called the Naked Mole-Rat, and is from North Africa.

So if you are having a bad day and feeling sorry for yourself, remember:

You could look like a dick with buck teeth.



(Thanks Kojak, I needed a good laugh)

Who turned on the cool?

So on a Monday you’ve got 98 degrees worth of swimming in ass crack sweat soup heat, add a dash of humidity to that and you’ve got 105 degrees worth of sweltering hell heat. Then the very next day the high is 85, it’s breezy and the temp is dropping down into the high 60’s low 70’s at night. Usually ‘round these parts fall slips in quietly, as the cooling process is so subtle it’s hardly noticed- Welcome to Florida. Not this year, this year it’s like someone flipped a switch and turned on the cool overnight. I’m not complaining mind you, quite the contrary, I think the weather is fabulous! I’m at my best come pumpkin season. Now golfing, riding the motorcycle, fishing, outdoor festivals and shooting at the range don’t end with your skin melting off along with the SPF 800 you applied beforehand. Cooking and trying new recipes is fun because you can open the kitchen windows and tempt the entire neighborhood. Speaking of new recipes, I tried making orange cream parfaits last night to follow up the fried bream that Kojak and I caught, they were wonderful! Think I’ll try chocolate or sweet cream stuffed strawberries tonight or tomorrow.

Fay and Hannah, the baby squirrels that another police officer gave to Kojak after the winds of Fay knocked them out of a tree are growing fast and eating like little pigs. Their eyes are open and they’re all over the place now. I don’t normally post a whole lot about my rescue but since a few people have inquired as to how they’re doing I figured I’d post a few pics.

Here they are when they first came in....



Trying pecans...



But still insisting on the bottle...

So there’s a bit of the latest, lots more going on but that's all I've got time for now. Note to self: Remember to post about Pogo, Pagan Pride day festival, drive by's and Jessie.

A sad day for comedy indeed

Comedian George Carlin dies in Los Angeles at 71






http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080623/us_nm/carlin_dc

My Dad...

There are no words that could possibly express how much I love my dad. How much I appreciate all he sacrificed for the family. How badly my heart hurts for his loses. How high my spirit soars for his victories. How scared I get when he’s sick. How happy I am when he’s well. How much I wish the best things in life for him. So I’ll post a picture, since they’re worth a thousand words…

My mom took this picture on Christmas day in 1978. I was 6 days old. Those are my dad's arms holding me.




Now, 29 years later, we've traded hairdo's. Somehow I'm sure I had something to do with that.

Happy Father's Day!

Have you seen these?

Only something this stupid could be so popular. What’s next, fake vaginas glued to the back of station wagons?


Let me start this by saying, if you have these on your vehicle- please stop reading now. You are an idiot and my blog is anti-you.

That being said, you may be asking yourself, "Wouldn’t someone be ashamed of themselves driving around town sporting a set of tea bags swinging from their bumper?" The answer is a resounding NO. People with these on their vehicles are too stupid to be ashamed of themselves. Your initial reaction may be to try to reason with these inept individuals. Don’t waste your time, you might as well forego even attempting to explain to them why putting fake testicles on their truck is so incredibly mentally defunct. People with truck nuts are just begging for an intervention. It is up to you, good citizen, to intervene in the form of a flip-flop bitch slap as this is the only action that these idiots will comprehend.

These retarded “accessories” just scream, “I have an incredibly small penis and am desperate to draw attention away from the fact that I was horribly picked on in my junior high gym class. It’s so small people often mistake me for a woman when I disrobed. I am uneducated and am an embarrassment to my entire family. Did I mention my penis is a terrible disappointment both in size and capability?”

Looks like the only time I post is when I’m sick

Here was how today was supposed to go….


5:00am- Get D off to work and go to sleep
10:00am- Get up
10:15am- Get dad up
10:30am- Get a shower
11:00am- Grab a snack
11:15am- Get ready for Kojak’s award ceremony
12:00pm- Boondoggle around
12:30pm- Start bitching at dad to get in the car
1:00pm- Leave for the award ceremony
1:20pm- Arrive at award ceremony
1:30pm- Watch Kojak get award
2:00pm- Get some lunch with dad and Kojak before his shift starts
3:00pm- Drop dad off
3:30pm- Head to Kojak’s house to straighten up and get some laundry done (while harassing his cats) before his tattoo guy comes over Tuesday
6:00pm- Come home
6:30pm- Decide what everyone wants for dinner
7:30pm- Get started on dinner
9:00pm- Feed everyone
10:00pm- Get started on chores around the house
1:30am- Check email and watch a movie
4:30am- Get ready for bed
5:00am- Sleep




Here’s how it has gone thus far…


4:10am- Post on my blog while listening my tummy serenade “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap”
4:45am- Doze off feeling rather queasy
5:00am- D wakes me up as he’s getting ready for work. Feeling really queasy
6:00am- Sit bolt upright in bed. Bathroom, NOW!
6:15am- Lay back down, thank God it’s over
7:00am- Fall out of bed running for bathroom
7:15am- Lay back down, thank God it’s over
9:00am- Jump up and trip over cat running for bathroom
9:15am- Lay back down and pray to God that it’s over
10:00am- Tummy wakes me with odd noises
10:05am- More praying
10:10am- More praying
10:15am- Cat scratches the hell out of me when I jump up and run for the bathroom
10:30am- The cursing of the small bowel begins as prayers for it aren’t working
11:00am- Small bowel responds to said curses with a little curse of it’s own “Get to the bathroom, NOW!!!”
11:30am- Call Kojak
11:45am- Slam foot in cabinet while running to the bathroom
11:50am- Reset toe that is jammed up into my ankle
12:00pm- Kojak calls
12:15pm- It is decided that I will not be attending his award ceremony
12:30pm- Dad leaves alone for ceremony
12:45pm- Run from the living room to the bathroom destroying all in my way
12:50pm- Call D asking if he’s experiencing anything similar. Have to leave a voicemail
1:00pm- Kojak calls and I apologize for not attending. He says he’s had a similar tummy upset. I take comfort in knowing I’m not alone
1:30pm- Gingerly sip Boost
1:45pm- Decide to move into the bathroom as I’m sick of injuring myself running to it
2:00pm- Curse. A lot
2:20pm- Posting from my bathroom...

A little message I'd like to pass on to the IRS with my check...

Being an asshole can be expensive

Just ask the asshole that owns the car in the below picture. That’s not a “Congratulations! You’ve won the sweepstakes!” notice placed beneath his windshield wiper.

It’s a ticket, for $250.00.

Why did he get a ticket for $250.00 and what qualifies him as an asshole you ask? Because he’s parked in a handicap parking space but doesn’t have a permit. How many disabled people go to Wal-Mart at 3am (the time he was ticketed)? Well, one that I know of, my dad. My father is disabled and 9 times out of 10 he goes to stores late at night so he doesn’t have to wait in long lines or fight for parking. So some asshole like the above mentioned comes along, figures it’s 3am, who’s gonna care? I do and apparently so does the cop that wrote him the ticket. Had my dad gone to the store that idiot would have made him walk an additional 15 feet. Now that might not mean much to you or me- being able bodied, but it means a hell of a lot to someone who walks with two canes, has braces on both legs and fights (all the while, being grateful!) for every step he takes.

So in short he got a ticket for being a lazy, inconsiderate, dickhole. Ya know what? That sorry sack of crap is lucky, that parking space cost him $250.00, it cost my father a broken spine.

Because it’s gratis and it’s poop. It’s gratis poop!

Okay dear reader I’m offering you, yes you, a challenge. Because lets face it, I’m just to fucking lazy busy to squeeze something creative out.

I MUST have Gratis Poop!!!

But I want, nay, need your help…

So the folks over at I Love Chicken Poop.com are giving away free Poop. I love their Poop, especially because of the prospect of it being free and the reality of me being poor. They are having a contest called "Compete For Poop!!". Basically the competition consists of sending in a clever picture of yourself, friends, family, pets, etc... with a Chicken Poop product. They will in turn post the best picture (mine), pick a winner (me) and send (me) free Poop.

I only have my Chicken Poop Tee to work with as I can’t find my G’damned Chicken Poop Chapstick anywhere!

Here’s where you come in. As previously mentioned, I’ve not been feeling terribly creative lately so I’m asking all two of my devoted readers to help me decide what kind of ingenious (winning) picture I should submit. Please keep idiotic suggestions to yourself as they only make us both look stupid- you for coming up with it and me for actually considering it.

If I win because of your suggestion, I will send you a very nice thank you card and um….., be like appreciative and stuff?

So could you please help me out already?

Happy Mothers Day...

To the worlds greatest dad!!!

I didn’t go to the gym last night but I did the next best thing…

I went out with the girls- because nothing says “Fuck the past two weeks!” quite like an assload of booze. Below is proof that I will jump at the chance to show my ass in public at every given opportunity. No, I don’t party with faceless torso’s- the faces of the not so innocent have been removed.

Here we see how Saturday a week ago started out. Tame..

A few drinks later and we're table dancing...



It is discovered at some point during the evening that I am indeed female (and a complete idiot- as are my cohorts) despite my manishness...

A week of hell and pandemonium pass (see two posts below), bringing us to last night.... so we do it again (no table dancing this time)...




What’s on tonight’s agenda? God only knows…Tabby just came into town!

And there you have it, proof I deserve a Darwin award (or a 12 step program)!

An open letter to a dickhole

Dear **dickhole *cop,

Do you think D is stupid? I mean, he may come off as a total ding-bat but trust me he’s way smarter than he looks. Which leads me to… he knows he didn’t get that ticket this morning because he left his keys in the car at the donut shop. He got that ticket because he got in your fucking douche bag way. Here’s how his morning routine works.

1- He gets up after I kick the shit out of him right around the 300th time the snooze alarm goes off.
2- He bathes, dresses and gets ready for work.
3- He warms up the decrepit piece of shit we lovingly call “the second car” (I usually refer to it as the “Flintstone mobile”).

~Addendum Numero Uno~
D’s car is a 1990 Ford Escort Hatchback (yes, you read that right). Its paint is peeling, it has been through a tornado- seriously, it has over a zillion miles on it, it runs on prayer and is in general every goddamn car thieves wet dream. I know those sonsofbitches take one look at this car and get a little hard with envy.

4- He drives directly to Dunkin’ Donuts to get his morning barrel of piping hot Joe infused with extra cream, 10 pounds of sugar and a near lethal dose of caffeine.
5- He proceeds to drive across the city to work.

Now, after reading the above process I’m sure you see where you fit in and fucked up D‘s morning routine. That’s right! Between steps 4 and 5. So here’s how I’m assuming YOUR morning starts off …

1- You get up, look in the mirror and see a giant douche bag staring back at you.
2- You ram insert a fresh corncob up your ass with vigor and pride.
3- You go to work in a very bad mood because women flee and or laugh at the sight/thought of your penis.
4- You take your bad mood out on the first person you see in the form of a ticket for the most retarded fucking thing you can think of.
5- Immediately thereafter you jack off (hard) to your ability to be the biggest prick best cop in town by keeping our streets safe from vicious, dangerous, predators….you know, all those sorry assholes who leave their keys in their piece of shit jalopies! After all, they are such a danger to society!

~Addendum Numero Dos~
I don’t feel addendum numero uno got this through clearly- I just really can’t stress the following points enough: A- It’s a Flintstone Mobile NOT a fucking Maserati. B- The vehicle was not left unattended running C- It was parked 10 feet away from its owner D- No children and or animals were left unattended and strapped in the backseat. E- If someone stole that sorry piece, they’d be doing us a favor. And F-The coffee shop knows what time D comes through and has the coffee ready the way he likes it. He runs in throws the money on the counter and runs out.

So lets be honest with each other- it wasn’t the keys in the car that got D that 75 dollar ticket making him late for work and putting him in a shitty mood that I‘m going to have to deal with. It wasn’t the corncob that’s shoved so far up your ass you’re constantly picking kernels out of your molars. You were pissed that D got in your way by parking at the front door, in your space and you got even more mad when he laughed at you. Plain, simple and best of all- honest. When you snarled at him “What are you laughing at?” did you bother to notice how nervous he was? Wringing his hands, shuffling his feet- he laughed because he was nervous you dumb fuck. And the sad thing is, it doesn’t take a fucking degree in body language to observe and conclude that.

Hold your head high today fucktard because when we go to court and I show the judge the car you ticketed for the keys being left in it and HE starts laughing- I guarantee, it won’t be nervous laughter. He’s going to look at you like the idiot asswipe that you are and he’s going to think the same thing we all thought- “You really are pathetic to ticket someone simply because they got in between you and your steaming hot cup of Joe and freshly baked Boston Cream.”

Sure, I’ll pay the $75 bucks because D is such a danger to society. Heh, 75 dollars, that’ll teach him!

Enclosed is a picture I took especially for you. Now I know they say a picture is worth a thousand words but I think this one pretty much sums it up in two…enjoy…

fucker.

Sincerely,
Saddened By What A Huge Douche Bag You Are.

**This dickhole is a true minority in my city. 99% of our police force consist of really great men and women (3 of which read my blog so they’re even cooler) just doing their job.**

*And to the cops who read my blog, please don’t take my rant personal. I certainly don’t mean to cast an ugly light down on everyone- just the one idiot who I’m sure even pisses his coworkers off.*

It’s hard work!

As it turns out- raining hell, havoc and chaos in general down upon all those around me and working on total world domination tends to be incredibly time consuming projects. Sadly, I’ve not really accomplished as much as I‘d like given the amount of time invested. I’d love to report more but here’s all I’ve got for the moment…

~ I started a serious mutiny at work (then again, when is a work related mutiny involving me not serious?) I took a coworker in front of my boss, pointed at her and said “Unless, you promote her, I quit. I‘m sick of working under the tyranny of a 20 year old child!” The 20 year old child just happens to be on vacation right now.

~ Possibly (I say ‘possibly’ because she hasn’t returned any of my phone calls since Saturday so I’m not quite sure) really pissed off that same coworker a few days later when taking her and her husband out. Actually, taking them out didn’t piss her off- my husband pointing at her chest and shouting “Titties!” in a drunken stupor is most probably what did it.

~ Told an incredibly hot 24 year old Marine that I didn’t appreciate his physical or verbal advances and wouldn‘t tolerate them- then stormed off to retrieve my drunken husband and go home. WTF was I thinking!!!??? (Actually, in all honesty…if I were going to do something along those lines, it damn straight wouldn’t be with a 24 year old kid. I have more ‘seasoned’ tastes, if you will. Oh yeah, and I love D too- even though he is dangerously retarded.)

~ Speaking of more seasoned tastes…I’ve been wanting to post this pic forever now. It was taken last July when I‘d finalized my decision to dominate the world. I like to call it a “Marine Burrito” or “Aza’s personal Double Mint commercial”. But really it just establishes that I’ve got the Military backing me (well, all of them but a 24 year old douche bag that can‘t keep his hands to himself). My plans for world domination are coming along nicely, slowly but nicely.

He's My Favorite Boy

After being sick with a nasty case of the crud, taking critters to the vet, having a mini “break down” (hahaha "mini"), changing meds…AGAIN, almost quitting my job, finding out D is being transferred (AGAIN) and blah, blah, blah...All in a mere 7 day span.... Seriously. Here’s my little slice of heaven. I’d like to stay like this, with him, for the next six months.

This grainy cell phone picture captures the all too elusive yet intensely coveted “nap time” in the Aza household.

SWAT Team Hand Signals

Ever wonder what they're saying to each other?


If you can't see the captions real well, click on the picture- it should bring up the whole thing at the original size.


It's an oldie but a goodie. I jacked this from over at Stale Betty's place; here is the original post. Rose's husband posted it during last year's Blog-A-Thon.

Got A Little Captain In Ya?

So we met and I defiled a few celebrities while on vacation. I was touring one of the local museums when I saw him…I was all like “OH MY GOD!!!” and he was all like “Argh! I’m Captain Jack, nice ta meet ye!” and then I was like “Oh wow! Can I get a picture with you!? No one would ever believe this story if I didn’t get a picture!” and Captain Jack was like “Aye! A picture for the lass!”

So I had to cut the holy hell out of the pictures to keep innocent bystanders, well, innocent...

Then I was all like “So hey, is that a codpiece you’re wearing or are you just thrilled to meet me?” and he was all like “Aye, fair wench! I’m just happy, nay, thrilled ta see ye!” and then he was like “Argh! No pictures of the fair wench feelin’ up the codpiece!!!”




So naturally one thing led to another and I was voted “Best Codpiece Inspector Wench”! Woo-Hoo!!!! A dream come true as you can imagine...




See, this little story just goes to show that if you set your sights high in life, you may just end up rich- with hot pirate booty (or on your knees in front of hot pirate booty...either way it's a win-win, right?).

It also goes to show that I’m a total deviant willing to do anything to appease my lusty hot Johnny Depp fantasies….

Boozin’ And Bathin’ In The Wild Wild West

We had some “Old Tyme Photos” taken this past week while on vacation…they weren’t the professional kind as they only took about twenty minutes to dress for, pose and take- but they’re kinda cute anyway. I‘d like to add for the record, if anyone has anything to say about my fat albino thighs, you can keep your thoughts to yourself. I quit smoking last month and might have picked up a pound or two.

Here’s D looking rather inebriated and slightly irritated...

Here he is with a fat piece of crap chaw in his mouth...

Where I really, really, really hate pictures of myself (especially those above) I actually like this one because I wasn’t faking the smile. The lady taking the pictures got me laughing really hard and *click*, there it is...



This one I’m not too pleased about because at this point I was getting bored and colder by the minute. D said something stupid right as she took the picture. She said it was her favorite because I look mischievous. D said it was his favorite because he’s the one that insisted I hold the whip. I think I’m sporting the “Retarded Indiana Jones Reject” look....

Why are the following pictures so flippin’ funny?

Well, for the following reasons…

1/ (and I stress this as being the most important) I’m sick in the head.
2/ Those are D’s feet.
3/ D is sound asleep (in fact, he’s snoozing away as I post this).
4/ That’s a damn good paint job considering the room is dark and I only had the light on long enough to snap some pictures with my phone and not during the actual paint job itself.
5/ He won’t notice his toes until 10 minutes till he’s due to work later today.
6/ Ya can’t go wrong in any situation with “Emerald Green”.
7/ For some odd reason seeing toes polished on size thirteen feet makes me laugh,...really hard.
8/ Screwing with people while they're asleep is just plain funny.

Let’s face it, this list could go on forever so I’ll leave it at the “Top 8 Reasons These Pictures Are So Flippin’ Funny”. My shenanigans have me all tuckered out- I think I’ll go to bed now.

Want to put a smile on a complete strangers face?

Send a card.

Seriously.

Tuna Girl’s very dear friend Patrick is in the hospital tonight recovering from surgery. Now just how cool would it be for Patrick to get his mail and find a bunch of get well cards from complete strangers across the country- maybe even from around the world (hint, hint my foreign friends)? Yeah, that’d be pretty freakin’ cool.

It's hard to smile when you don't feel good. So, I don’t know Patrick but I’m going to do it. I'm going to send him a get well card because I think it will make him smile.

You should do it too- Jot down the below address and stick it in your purse or wallet. When you’re out and about tomorrow take a moment to stop and buy a card (even a postcard). You don’t have to write something all elaborate just “Get Well Soon” will suffice. Stick a stamp on in and drop it in the post.

You have to admit 10 minutes out of your day and 39 cents (or 21 cents if you send a postcard) to make someone feel better is a small investment for a huge payoff.

Patrick Doyle
PO Box 8409
New York, NY
10150


~UPDATE~

Here's a pic of the card I sent. Yeah, it's another crappy cell phone pic but you get the idea...

Has it really come to this?

Are we so bound to technology? It’s the beginning of the end, I say!










(and no, that's not me (or Tabby) from Monday night thankyouverymuch!)