Saturday, July 02, 2005
Unlucky in Love
I always tell nosey interloper types "I haven't found the right woman yet," but that's a lie. I believe I've found the right woman several times, only to have my destiny thwarted by circumstance. When I've found the perfect female for me, one or more of the following happens:

- I unknowingly have a booger the size of the Liberty Bell dangling from a nostril.

- I just finished eating a camel cunt sandwich with raw onion, limberger cheese, and extra garlic.

- I need a haircut and look like the drummer for Foghat.

- I just got a haircut and look like a marine from the 103rd Fat Division.

- She's allergic to my "Designer impostors" cologne.

- She mentions she has a thing for Jewish cowboys and the bartender introduces himself as "Bucky Horowitz". (old joke)

- I'm so drunk I keep referring to her as Blondie McBoobsalot....even though she's a flat chested brunette.

- I'm so sober the fear of talking to a stranger makes my voice crack like the pimply-faced fast food worker from The Simpsons.

- The bar's lighting makes my jeans looked acid-washed.

- One of my so-called friends tells her that no, I did not, my bold assertions notwithstanding, invent the I-Pod.

- She likes me, but her friends hiss in my direction and pelt me with soiled bar napkins and tiny fru-fru drink umbrellas.

- The DJ plays my favorite song and she sees that I dance like a three-toed sloth with Parkinson's.

- I remind her of the guy who slaughtered her entire family with a grapefruit spoon.

I actually thought I was going to get a little three-way action once. I was on San Padre Island a few summers ago and I was drinking margaritas on the beach with two hot, drunk co-eds. They were twin sisters, fraternal not identical, and it really seemed like they wanted to party. Unfortunately, I happened to mention how much I hated George Bush, and wouldn't you know it, he's their father.



13 Comments:

Blogger n.v. said...

Toddsky, I Googled Foghat and found a picture...and laughed 'til I peed a little in my new undies. You fucking RULE. RULLLLE!!!! You son of a bitch!

Blogger n.v. said...

I just finished eating a camel cunt sandwich with raw onion, limberger cheese, and extra garlic.


The DJ plays my favorite song and she sees that I dance like a three-toed sloth with Parkinson's.



LOL more pee!!!!!
Todd, please turn this into a series. Write more. Please!!

Blogger yournamehere said...

Dena, your comments bring me great joy.

When I was a kid there was this redneck down the street who had a hat that read simply "Fog". It was his FOGhat. It's a miracle I didn't hang myself.

Anonymous Kath said...

You will be famous one day...and in a GOOD way.

Your blog beyond rocks!

Blogger Brookelina said...

This blog had me weeping. Weeping I tell you! It had the same effect on me as my use of the word "twat" did for you.

And never, ever talk politics with drunken co-eds! They are invariably the daughters of politicians. Or just drunken bimbos who don't know what you are saying. Either way, you won't get laid.

Blogger Ruben said...

Dear Lord, the one about the booger the size of the libery bell was just too much. lol

I would slap down a month's pay to see the three-toed sloth with Parkinsons's routine.

Blogger geezer squeezer! said...

dude,camel cunt sandwiches really did me in!
and the liberty bell booger!
that is totally me too :)

Blogger Rachel said...

LMCAO!

Lovin' you even more today darlin', you crack me up!


So...feel like playing with some of us in October?

Blogger yournamehere said...

Rachel, of course. We need to make this an event.

Blogger cranberry said...

that's so drrrrty! i love it.

Blogger Lucky Pink said...

Sooooo funny!

Blogger JackassJimmy said...

Hi, I'm a lurker/reader, 1st time commenter, I think.

I just got a haircut and look like a marine from the 103rd Fat Division.

That is comedy gold man! I was fucking crying laughing when I read that. Probably cause I'm in that company as well.

I always feel so good about myself after getting a hair cut and I come out of the salon looking like a genetic experiment on canned ham.

You've got a reader in me.

Cheers,
JJ

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