Man how life changes as you get older. Take this for instance: I used to abhor meeting new people. I have been very blessed with a great, great group of friends and my thought process was I didn’t need any more people to keep track of.
Shit, I can barely keep in touch with the friends I have!
My wife and I take the kids out for a walk around the neighborhood (when it is nice out) and we would see the same group of people doing the exact same thing with their kids.
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Walt got up friday morning and performed his normal morning ritual. I woke up told wifesense to zip her face shut and I climbed out of bed and got into the shower. Then I got out of the shower brushed my teeth and went downstairs.
I prepared myself a pitcher of extra dry, dirty martinis (shaken not stirred) with three olives.
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This blog was sent to me complements of one of wifesense’s friend, Melissa which whom she used to work with. It details an excruciating commute from the suburbs into the beautiful City of Philadelphia.
Listen to how she poetically writes about her encounter. I read it and laughed hysterically. Not only is her encounter insane, she writes so elegantly that it should be read out loud at a library with some old Oxford graduate reading it with a distinguished English accent.
I didn’t make any changes to it. I am not intelligent enough to even understand or comprehend some of the beautiful words used to describe such a horrific commute.
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Great marketing...better timingI thank God when it is raining and humid in Philadelphia. The sidewalks and streets get soaked forcing the beautiful scent of urine into the air and the humidity traps it in so it gets stuck around you head as if someone dipped their finger in a toilet filled with piss and shit and rubbed it on the top of your lip while you were sleeping.
It is glorious! So much so that it stings the nostrils.
I ask the great people of Waltoria: Is there a better way to start the day? It reminds me of all the beautiful scents in this world as only urine could. It reminds me of stank morning breath, bed wetting, pickle juice, vomit, foreigners, raw onions, puss and sweaty feet.
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I woke up this morning refreshed and renewed and I have no idea why. I got up whistling Dixie and I moseyed on downstairs to start the day. I popped open my computer to see if I missed anything from the night before.
I found this little nugget in my inbox from Lama – one of the distinct members of team waltsense: Should we do a survey what should Walt write about?
That is hysterical, what a bastard. There wasn’t a subject header or anything. Just a subtle dig at the waltdog!
My friends are notorious for this and that is why I hate them.
It really is a hard knock life for the waltdog. (Actually it really isn’t, I just feel like complaining about something, my life is nothing short of perfect).
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There is no way of getting around it. People are the worst! Whether it is people protesting in the streets about God knows what or people forcing other people to be politically correct.
I just don’t get it. That is why people suck.
Kabul, July 15: The US-led forces fighting the Taliban fighters in Afghanistan might soon encounter 'gun-toting' monkeys, trained for 'jihad', if a rumor doing the rounds in the Chinese media is to be believed.
The New York Post cited the state-run People's Daily as saying that the Taliban is "training monkeys to use weapons to attack American troops".
"... The Taliban forces have tried any possible means and figured out a method to train monkeys as 'replacement killers' against American troops," Stars and Stripes quoted the Chinese daily as saying.
The militants were arming the primates with AK-47 rifles, machine guns and trench mortars in the Waziristan tribal region bordering Pakistan and Afghanistan, it claimed.
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What is it with actors that get a little older? Two of my favorite actors from the 80’s and 90’s have completely gone off of the deep end. First, Tom Cruise fell off his rocker (and he has never really recovered).
Now it is Mel Gibson’s turn.
Have you heard the tapes of him calling his ex-girlfriend? They are hysterical!
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My friend Kevin asked me the other day: If you are a fat comedian, could you remain funny to people if lose a ton of weight?
I would have to say no. Can you imagine if Laurel and Hardy were two skinny guys? What If Curly from the Three Stoogies was skinny or Norm from Cheers? Can you even fathom a skinny Newman from Seinfeld?
What if Chris Farley was skinny?
Let’s face it - Fat is Funny.
Again, fat is funny.
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