Wednesday, September 14, 2011

My beard is called Joe Steel

At some point in a man's life he is destined to grow a beard, that is to say that a man will at least try to let his face grow long without the silent jeers and sideways looks of those among his inner circle. Today is my day and my beard is ready for the world.

My beard is strong and wise and would be given two thumbs up by Dusty Hill and Billy Gibbons although not quite as long and creepy as the aforementioned Texans, I am proud of my chin whiskers but feel that my crumb catchers days are numbered.

Ladies - want to  keep your bum warm in winter?

 The Wife: I always assumed that a little chin tickle would aid the little man in the boat and his perpetual journey for stimulation, but the wife hates facial hair more that two days old, claims that even a wee kiss is like making out with sandpaper attached to a chainsaw held by Michael J. Fox. To soon?
My apologies to Mr. Fox, I was a big fan of "The secret of my success"
and even looked into becoming a limo driver.

The Family: Although both parents were raised among the flower people of the 60's and looking back at their choice of wardrobe in the 70's I thought that my father walking about the town in clogs and my mother wearing a beehive on her head would afford them the luxury of free spirit as it pertains to their offspring. I was wrong, like the wife they despise Joe Steel and together they plot his demise.

The Children: My two boys love Joe Steel, they like to scratch him and pretend daddy is a lumberjack or one of those ice road truckers or even a young Chuck Norris sans the conservative viewpoints.

Sadly for Joe Steel his life must come to an end, his struggle with universal acceptance was lost, Joe Steel offered the world his middle finger as to their dislike of his presence but that was not enough. At the end of the day the face that Joe rested on missed the ever so delicate touch of the wife and grew tired of the isolation that Joe caused him. Don't worry about Joe he is alive and well and living in seclusion underground, waiting patiently for the wife to go out of town so he can rise again. R.I.P. amigo....

Friends of Joe...
Ass Kicking Beard

Beard, James Beard
Metro Sexual Beard
Curvy Beard
Beard with built in water dispenser
Stay Hairy My Friends

Teasing little men in boats all over the globe

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Indie Ink: Dream Weaver

This is a response to the Indie Ink Challenge for this week, the prompt from bewilderedbug caused me a few sleepless nights and forced me to start my love affair with single malt highland whisky - again.
The following is a result of my whisky coma and bewildered bugs interesting mind.
Cheers, Sausage...

I was asked to write a dialogue between
Obama, Gandhi, Hitler, Blaze Star and Dita Von Teese 

President Obama is standing at the press podium and in front of him are:
Hitler, Gandhi, Blaze Star and Dita Von Teese.

Obama - Welcome ladies and gentlemen I will now take questions from the audience. 

Gandhi - Mr President, can you tell me this: does your toilet paper load from the back or the front? this is a question the world needs to know.

Obama - Well ahem, actually the staff loads the toilet paper so whatever they do is fine.

Gandhi - Mr. President you are dodging my question, please give me an answer.

Hitler - Well if four eyes is finished I have a question. Mr. President, you have been in the oval office now for three years, can you tell me this: What is it like? is it awesome? can I shadow you for a day? pleeeeaseee. Hell is so boring and the devil keeps asking for my advice, I will bring snacks.

Obama - Devils food cake?

Hitler - No, deviled eggs.

Blaze - Me next darling, is it hot in here or is it just you, (Starts stripping) Happy Birthday Mr. President...happy birthday to you.

Gandhi - My glasses are fogging up. 

Blaze - Mr. President, who do you believe is the better burlesque dancer me or the skank over there?

Dita - Who you callin' skank, I am a performance artist not a stripper.

Hitler - Ladies, ladies, do not fight come back with me to my secret bunker and we can discuss this and have some cyanide err I mean wine, yes lovely wine.

Gandhi - Can I come along?

Hitler - No way buzzkill you could suck the fun out of Christmas.

Obama - Look, I think the both of you ladies are very charming but as a married man I will not comment on which one like better. (Mutters under breath) The red head.

Obama - Ms. Von Teese did you have a question?

Von Teese - 34C-23-33.

Obama - Sorry I don't understand the question?

Von Teese - Starts stripping - you see these are my pole numbers 34C-23-33

Obama - Did you poll well in Iowa?

Von Teese - No silly my stripper pole numbers, I never work in Iowa it's a hard nipple state.

Gandhi - Oh dear my pole is growing in numbers as we speak.

Blaze - Holy pepperoni stick look at the tent that Gandhi is pitching.

Hitler - Now I know why he wears the robe.

Gandhi - Small things come in big wait it is big things come in small packages.

Obama - Speaking of small packages, Hitler when are you due back in hell?

Hitler - I have a luncheon with Bernie Madoff, Ken Lay from Enron and Kim Kardashian.

Obama - But Kim Kardashian is not dead.

Hitler - Oh I know but after she sold her soul to the devil she has to check in once a month plus I think Bernie has a little crush on her. We are having soup.

Dita - Kim Kardashian, that no talent hack.

Blaze - Reminds me of you.

Obama - Alright everyone time for one last question. Hitler you have your hand up go ahead.

Hitler - Sorry I was practicing my "Hails" for the annual hell day parade but I have one more question. Have you seen the one they call "Hillary" naked?

President Obama wakes up and realizes that this was all a bad dream, he ponders his day ahead. Fight with republicans, battle media pressure, work on re-election......decides to stay in bed.