Thursday, July 29, 2004

Better Mail Than Jail

 


My internet connection was completely wiped out on Tuesday, and on Wednesday it has been up and down like an 83 year old man on viagra. I never knew how much I need the internet....I'm like a crack whore ready to sell my body for another hit...just one hit....one little hit and you can stick it anywhere.

Before I had this official blog, I use to write a newsletter (which now is my notify list)...basically the same concept, except I would have a joke, a picture of the day and what not as well as personal stories. So first, I want to thank all of my loyal readers who have followed me through thick and thin with my original website, Everyone Loves Timmy.com before I was shut down due to having adult content. Muahahahahaha....you can hold me down but not for long. I'm like a 13 year old boy ready to explode while he sneaks a peek at his math teacher's cleavage.

While my internet has been down, I decided to reach into my old archives and pull out some of the best emails I've received. Then I thought, hey, I've gotten some great comments, so I'll pull those out and attach a link to the person who wrote it and to the reference of the post.

The old emails won't have a link since they were via email. These entries, do not include content that was posted on a different website, these are just emails and comments only.




From: XXXXX | Block Address | Add to Address Book
Date: Sun, 2 Dec 2001 01:08:58 EST
Subject: Hi Timmy

ur hella funny i have a crush on a guy named timmy
but he spells it diffentely "timmie" all be seenin ya
love ya byebye

Are you slightly retarded?
~ TIMMY!





From: XXXXX | Block Address | Add to Address Book
Subject: RE: CHUCKLE OF THE DAY! 10/17/2001
Date: Thu, 18 Oct 2001 07:54:08 +0200

Hi Tim,
As you know I have just joined you site and I must
say I was not disappointed. Man some of this stuff is
really funny and it really does keep a lot of the sh-t
at bay.

I hope you're still around my dear man...
~ TIMMY!





Fountain of Pee

OMFG that's funny.
All the funnier really, since I've been there, cupping piss, not knowing why.

Just wait until Curley get in touch with scooping vaseline out of its tub, and applying it liberally to her head....ahhhh, good times.
Omnipotent Sister

Uhhh, I hope I never, NEVER have to deal with vasiline like that.
~ TIMMY!





Why Co-Workers Plot To Kill You

Ew...feet!

You are so wonderfully stream-of-consciousness (or is that stream of pee?) Yep, you really outdid yourself that time. You might as well change the title of your blog to "Fountain of Pee."

I think the secretaries are obsessed with it because they secretly wish you would cup their urine in your hands. Daddy.
Pisser

Me Rove You Rong Time...thanks for naming my website!
~ TIMMY!





Slow Down!!! You're Going 10 mph!!!

you had me at "running shoes"....

that was a great setup.

you need to get laid.

uh, no i'm not offering...
boredhousewife

I do need to get laid...I'm like a virgin again...LIKE A VIRGIN!
~ TIMMY!





Tamale Intoxicated Timmy

Damn, now I gotta go change my panty liner. It wasn't made to hold the fountain of pee I have expelled laughing at this stuff. Instead of saying you crack me up, I'm saying you make me leak!!!!
Wanda

You leak? As in your panties are wet? And I did that? Yeah, I do need to get laid.
~ TIMMY!





Good Times....Good Times

only you would try to get it on with the pastors wife!

you totally rock timmy! =]
Kimberlee

I'm trying everything at this point.
~ TIMMY!





Godzilla Bowling for God

Oh, man, but that was righteous. I'm having a hard time deciding which is the funnies image conjured here.

(I think "tall Mexican in flip-flops" among the Liliputians might be the winner.)
Special K

Oh who am I kidding...no one will sleep with a tall Mexican in flip-flops.
~ TIMMY!





Can TIMMY Come Out To Play?

I can not even tell you how many times I have read this post. The whole thing is hilarious.....but I get that "almost pee my pants" laugh for some reason when I think about "rolled up on me like Christopher Reeves....not that "handicapped " is funny in anyway but gees who would have thought to use that analogy other than you! My jaws hurt from laughing.
Tiff

Christopher Reeves line is like my utmost favorite...like fer sure.
~ TIMMY!





In the Name of the Rumba, the Mambo, & the Cha Cha Cha

oh lord.
you did not misname this site.
every time i come here--i pee.

....why do i keep coming back?? i guess i must enjoy peeing in my pants. it's nice. you're nice. b.o. is nice.
boredhousewife

More wet panties...isn't that nice? oh thats nice...
~ TIMMY!





Like it's THE Grody Guy at the Club

just the fact that you offered to 'knock the rhythm into her' puts you in a whole new realm of cool.
mona

I know I'm rad, but thanks for confirming.
~ TIMMY!





Mechanical Valtrex

OMG. That has to be the best stream of consciousness writing I have ever seen. The tea story is a classic. I wish you worked here.
TW

People wish for me to be with them all the time...in bed, at work, on the dance floor...its good to be me.
~ TIMMY!





10 Things I've Learned From Being A Daddy

She's a cute one, too.

Happy Father's Day, you pervert.
Houston

Pervert??? Now what did I do with those wet panties.
~ TIMMY!





To The One Who Birthed Me

Thank you Moms of the World for not being total bitter cunts due to the havoc pregnancy reaps on your body, having no social life til your kids start grade school, giving up spontenaity, and having to deal with narcisistic exhusbands dating porn stars! Happy Mothers Day you Wenches!!
Rachel

I think you should see someone about some built up anger issues.
~ TIMMY!





The Make-Over

You don't post enough, Timmy.
nongirlfriend

Coming from you that is the understatement of the year.
~ TIMMY!





Sorry Miguel...errr, Jesus...I'm going to Hell!

I hope you enjoyed writing that as much as I enjoyed reading it. (that's a new spin on the 'I hope it was as good for you as it was for me)
You do realize that if you go to hell, there may be plenty of poontang, but you'll probably not have anything to stick in the willing tacos? I mean it isn't called hell for nothin you know!
At any rate, here's wishing you a Happy Easter, and a fun day all around!
Wanda

Hell has sluts...and where there are sluts, there are willing tacos...
~ TIMMY!





The Art of Procrastination

i love this post.
now excuse me as i have some piles of work that need to be held down with my elbows while i read more blogs...
tif

Yes, I know the feeling...it took me about 7 hours to write this post.
~ TIMMY!





Weekend Of Fun

What? No Funeral for Desi? You didn't really love him like a member of the family did you?
Way back when I was a kid our bug containers were old spaghetti jars with holes punched in the tops (and sometimes in our hands) with a nail & a rock. Ahh good times... now when I see a bug I squeal like the girl I am and stand on a chair and throw things at it trying to convince my ferret, Baxter (gender identity issues long story) that she really wants to save me and kill the bug. She never does.
Joanne

Love him like a member of the family? You do know he was a spider right? BTW, I don't think Baxter has the gender identity issues...I think the owner is confused.
~ TIMMY!





The Repressed Chubby Greaseball

Yeah, I'd make a statement about the blow/horse habit, too. (Not to be confused with blowing horses, because I'd imagine there'd be A LOT of protein in that. Of course, she could be throwing it up afterward. Also heroin DOES make you puke ... hmmmmmm ...) Or else I'd comment on her gray hair, even if she doesn't have any. Just putting that thought in a chick's mind will make her go apeshit.
Michelle

Yes...I shall keep that in mind next time I want to drive a woman crazy. Muahahaha
~ TIMMY!





The Squirrelly Feng Shui Office War

Spent a few days in a log cabin in the woods, first couple of days everything is fine. 3rd day 'oooh squirrel, lets feed it'.

Cut to 5.30am every morning for the next 4 days where the squirrel tap dancing club does auditions on the roof of the cabin.

Bastards.
Watski

For some strange reason, I can totally see the squirrel tap dancing too. I think I watch to many cartoons.
~ TIMMY!





Roller Cops - A Hero Will Roll

8 beers had me praying to God not to puke on the train the next morning...

8 LITE beers, mind you.

Getting old sucks my left one, and lemme tell you, my right one isn't jealous.
Diana

I use to be the youngest in everything...now I'm the only old man in the group that knows who Scott Baio is.
~ TIMMY!





The Mausen Party

Why is it that when finding a container from an old lunch in a bag we open it. It's not like we wouldn't know it was going to be bad.
I once got the dry heaves from one.
Smiley

It's like God is calling us to open that container...MUST OPEN and smell.
~ TIMMY!





Employees Go Crazy For The Big Chalupa

This is by far your best yet.

I'll never look at my crucifix the same way again. Now I know why I used to have those sex dreams about Jesus as a child.

Which, by the way, my then-therapist told me was common.
nongirlfriend

Having sex dreams with Jesus is not normal you fruitcake. Unless you're that good in bed that you can satisfy Jesus...which if that is the case...email me baby.
~ TIMMY!





Dear Timmy....

"getting bitched slapped by your mom like a cheap hooker"

I'm dying, I tell you, DYING.

Heh, when I turned 18, I had a 15 year old boyfriend at the time. I went to college, and his parents broke us up because she believed I was whoring around with my newfound freedom.

I wanted to tell her that not everyone becomes a whore at 18 like she did, but it was just one of those missed opportunities.

For the record though, the little snot was most certainly NOT the love of my life.
Michelle - When Cats Attack

The question is, did you THINK he was the love of your life when you were 18 though? And a missed oppurtunity? Puulease, that mom saved you so you could whore it up in college...aaah, good times, good times.
~ TIMMY!





I Curly - Birthday Me!

Okay. I think if I had a favorite post? It would be this one. It so freakin' cute I want to cry. And Curly? Your bday is one day before mine! Whee!
Zoot

I didn't even know Curly Top could type.
~ TIMMY!





Run from the mouse...RUN!!!

I kind of hope you end up in jail, just so we can read about it later.
bunny

Wait...what?




Date: Sun, 02 Dec 2001 07:41:04 EDT
From: "XXXXX"
To: timmy@everyonelovestimmy.com
Subject: Re:File - Goodbye

"F.Y.I."--
I am a member of 2 other joke clubs...
but I found yours to be sexist, not particularly
funny, and crude in a sexist way. I don't mind a good
racy joke, but these were not.

But...




The Passion of Diarrhea

Wow, you're a racist fuck, aren't ya?
Anonymous

But...




Date: Sat, 26 June 2004 16:31:23 EDT
From: "XXXXX"
To: timmy@fountainofpee.com
Subject: Re: I'm Reporting You

You have got to be one of the most arrogant assholes on the internet. im reporting you to blogger for being a sexist, and a racist and i hope you are removed from the blogsphere.

But...




Date: Thur, 20 May 2004 20:54:48 EDT
From: "XXXXX"
To: timmy@fountainofpee.com
Subject: Re:

FUCK YOU you fucking prick.

But...




Wal-Wars of Mart

Jesus Christ buddy if you hate this country so damn much, then go the fuck away. Nobody wants you grimy greasy spicks here anyway. You just waste space and resources meant for real americans. Oh and before you label me racist, take a look in the mirror pal. Its people like you who keep racism alive by crying about being who you who born. I'm sorry your a clearly repressed greaseball. I'm sorry for all the spearchucks who overflow the crimal justice system in this country while taxpayer dollars feed them. Im sorry for all the white crackers in this country who drain resources because they are too fat and lazy too get a job. So go back to Meh he co and find some shack to live in and complain about the US then. ingrate. or better yet tell me where you live so I can run over you and get a free lube job for my car.
Jonnie

Thank you for showing me the way....lemme just pack my tamales up and go back to Meh-He-Co where I belong.
~ TIMMY!





Iraqi In My Khaki

I do hope you'll consider donating your brain to science hon. It's a very special one
Brenda

Well, I'll only do that if I get compensated now by getting a lifetime supply of tomatoes.
~ TIMMY!


Monday, July 26, 2004

The Squirrelly Feng Shui Office War

 


We are in the middle of summer, the birds are chirping, the sun is out, women are wearing little clothing and showing a lot of skin....times are good my gentle readers.

My firm has this little pond behind our building that the hotel across the way maintains. It is actually very nice. Very soothing, very Feng Shui-ish. However, with a pond, comes ducks, and with ducks comes assholes who feel that they have an obligation to crunch up pretzels and various other crackers and leave them all over the ground right next to the staircase that I walk up to get to my office. It creates a very bad Feng Shui feeling....crackers all over the ground mixed with duck poop.

These same assholes have also adopted a little squirrel like it was a starving child from Africa. There would be food in Africa if Sally Struthers had not eatin all the wheat that the continent has received as international aid.

So now every time I try to go up the staircase to my office, I have to watch out for duck shit, and run from the courageous little squirrel who has no fear of running over to you and stand up on its hind legs to beg for food.

Why does the squirrel have no fear?

Because the crazy animal lover fanatics that work in my firm have apparently made it a personal goal to get the squirrel to eat out of their hands. Success was achieved a few weeks ago and now the squirrel has no problem running up to you and expecting the same treatment from everyone - a free handout.

When I walk to my car the squirrel will run between my legs thus causing me to trip over myself so I don't accidentally step on his fluffy little tail. Not only do I have to look out for duck shit but I have to look out for Rocky the Squirrel. I want to pick this sweet, delicate, fluffy innocent squirrel up and drop kick the little fucker across the pond so he doesn't bother me anymore.

I've declared war on these animal lovers that apparently do not have enough work since they are outside feeding the squirrel instead of working. They are outside taking breaks more often than the firm's chain smokers.

I've been thinking about getting a stuffed squirrel and tying a rope around its neck and hang him from a tree holding a sign, "This is what happens when you feed me"

Or maybe I'll put a hood over the stuffed squirrel, take a picture and email the assholes feeding the animals with the picture and tell them if their actions do not stop immediately and withdraw all food products from the ground, the squirrel will be decapitated.


Feng Shui Office Experiment

One day I decided that I need a new feeling. What can I do? I have a window in my office and there is plenty of light coming through my window so.... I wanted to give my office a new feeling so I got all feng shui and turned off my light.

So far the experiment has been a success....I have learned the following things with my light being turned off:

Positives

  • I don't feel like I'm at work
  • No one knows when I actually come to work
  • It's like I'm on vacation tricking my mind
  • Easy to fall asleep as I don't have a light blaring off of my desk
  • It gives me a very cool feng shui relaxation feeling
  • No one knows when I actually leave for the day

    Negatives

  • Every fucking day someone comments about my light not being turned on

    I guess that is the only negative.

    At first it was funny, I'd make a comment like, "It's like I'm on vacation - I'm tricking my mind of not really being in the office" they'd laugh and move along. After about 5 weeks of not turning my light on, people are still asking if I'm a vampire, if my light is broken, commenting on how dark my office is, letting me know how surprised they were to see me because they thought I wasn't in since my light was off.

    If I give in to the weak who some would refer to as my co-workers, I'll lose out on my feng shui office.

    I WILL NOT CONFORM TO YOUR NAZI OFFICE TACTICS ASSHOLE - My light will stay off....I will not give in.

    I will prevail...I shall begin to refer to my office as the underground....a place of meeting for the underground movement in the Feng Shui Office War.

    I'll begin stockpiling rubberbands to make sling shots. I'll use my plastic butter knife to sharpen paperclips for my sling shots. I'll create a booby trap over my door using scotch tape and my scissors. I'll open my stapler up, and shoot staples at those that oppose me. During lunch hour, I will put on Rosita's janitor outfit and body snatch an unsuspecting secretary. I'll torture her with binder clips and draw "Lights Out" on her forehead with my pink highlighter.

    As long as the sun rises, I will never turn my light on, and I shall be victorious in The Squirrelly Feng Shui Office War
  • Thursday, July 22, 2004

    Dear Timmy....




    I want to point some things out really quick - first and almost as important as myself, I am sponsoring a brand new Blogger.

    I want everyone to click and read Ramblin Redhead. She's a brand new blogger but she's a really funny chick so she better not humiliate me for sponsoring her.

    I've also had some new readers leaving comments and I always like to check out their sites...well, when I get a chance too, I'm still trying to catch up on my regular blogs, but two I want to point out. The other new commenters I'll get too, but you'll just have to wait.

    First, Watski he has some great insight on things and is a great writer.

    Second, but definitely not least, is Laurie. If you are familiar with Maddox then you will enjoy this blogger. Has Great material.

    So...don't embarrass me, go check these people out or I'll FedEx you a used tomato.



    {Q}

    DEAR TIMMY,


    I am a 17-year-old boy, and I have finally found the girl of my dreams. "Kim" is sweet, kind and very cute. She's my first love. I always want to make her happy and I never want to be without her.

    There is only one problem. I'll be 18 in a few months. Lisa is only 15 and won't be 16 until next year. I'm afraid people will make us separate because I will soon be an "adult." This just hit me and I'm out on a limb. I love her so much. Is there anything I can do?

    Signed,
    SHOT IN THE HEART

    [ Whether you're searching for Mr. Toilet Seat Down or Ms. Swallow, or if you just need sound advice, relationship and general bullshit expert Timmy is here. ]

    {A}


    DEAR R. KELLY JR.,


    First I have to point out how completely stupid you sound when you say you, "finally found the girl of my dreams". You do know you're only 17 right?

    FUCKING 17!!!

    I'm 25 and I am still trying to figure out why my work puts bathroom spray inside the stalls when your own smell doesn't bother you. You don't know jack shit little boy.

    Since Kim's parents haven't objected to the age difference yet, they probably won't say anything when you turn 18. Are they stupid? Yes, but you should talk to them regarding this and tell them of your concerns. Let them know that Kim is the girl of your dreams (holding in laugh)....it appears that they are not involved in their daughter's life and they don't care what she does so you have nothing to worry about.

    ~ TIMMY

    p.s.
    Stay away from my daughter you pervert or I'll snap your cock off.




    {Q}


    DEAR TIMMY,


    I am a 38-year-old divorced mother of two boys, ages 12 and 14. My boyfriend, "Tom," is divorced and has no children. We've been dating for three years. He is my best friend, and we get along great.

    I am very much in love with Tom, but he says he will never marry again. I try dating other men, but they don't measure up to Tom. It seems Tom could get along fine without me in his life. I don't feel the same. Tell me, Timmy, what's his problem?

    Signed,
    WAITING IN THE SOUTHEAST

    [ Whether you're searching for Mr. Toilet Seat Down or Ms. Swallow, or if you just need sound advice, relationship and general bullshit expert Timmy is here. ]

    {A}


    DEAR DUMBASS,


    Tom doesn't have a problem. You do. What is your problem? You're a dipshit. You have fallen in love with a man who has made it clear that he is unwilling to make a commitment to you and your two rugrats. You have just reinforced the popular belief that a woman will make a horrible President.

    So I applaud you for giving The Women Rights Movement a step backward.

    ~ TIMMY




    {Q}


    DEAR TIMMY,


    Does a parent have the right to literally slap you in the face? I am in my 40s, and for the past year, when my mom doesn't agree with my opinion, she will slap me in the face.

    My family is aware of what's happening, but others are afraid to step in for fear of what she'll do to them. Mom was a bully as a child, and because I am not an aggressive person, she has always intimidated me. When I try to stand up for myself, she laughs and humiliates me.

    My mother's attacks are destroying me. I don't know how to handle them. I haven't confided in anyone because I am so ashamed.

    Do I have the right to defend myself against my mother?

    Signed,
    TIRED OF BEING SLAPPED

    [ Whether you're searching for Mr. Toilet Seat Down or Ms. Swallow, or if you just need sound advice, relationship and general bullshit expert Timmy is here. ]

    {A}


    DEAR PANSYASS,


    I find it very humorous that you are in your 40's getting bitched slapped by your mom like a cheap hooker.

    Im lafingg to haaard to tipe.....Escuuse me wile eyee compose miselff.






    Whew, I needed a good laugh, thank you.

    You definitely have every right to defend yourself, but not physically, you don't you don't want to do the exact same thing she is doing to you. I suggest you call her doctor and let him/her know that she is a sadistic psycho slapper.

    You and your family have every right to be respected...but not when you just stand there taking it like an Iraqi prisoner; if that is the case, then your mom has every right to humiliate you.

    ~ TIMMY

    Tuesday, July 20, 2004

    Like it's THE Grody Guy at the Club



    I strut in as if I'm Scott Baio and it was 1987 into Club Miami wearing a black short sleeve button up shirt, black shoes and a pair of coffee stain free khaki pants. I get a smile from a chick who looks like she possibly could be a guy. I nervously smirk back and keep walking towards the bar.

    A nice Rumba was playing.....

    Un ardiente corazon
    Colorea mi pasion
    Deseando compartir
    El sentir de este vivir

    En las olas de este mar
    Sueno en la eternidad
    Con cada luna vendras
    Con la merea te iras

    En un caracol
    Pienso oir tu voz....

    I'm feeling the music swaying back and forth like a palm tree on the beaches of Tahiti as I order a Cran & Vodka from one of the four cute bartenders who were barely wearing any clothing.

    I need to come in here more often, I think to myself as I take a sip of the Cran Vodka.

    I leave a 4 dollar tip (I'm always a big tipper) and I start heading across the club to were my friends are sitting. I'm sitting down sipping my drink with my friends when a Michael Jackson song comes on.

    What dimension of all molesting Catholic Priests did I just step into? Michael Jackson in a Latin Club? Was I in Club Miami or Club Molesta?

    One of my friends grabs me and drags me out to the dance floor. So I'm dancing with my friend to Michael Jackson when the Latin club decided to get back to business and put some Salsa on. My friend starts walking back to our table and I quickly scan the dance floor for someone to dance with; mainly looking for someone who has been there for awhile drinking.

    As luck would have it, my eyes quickly found an attractive lady to dance with and one who was tall, always a bonus with me on the dance floor. I quickly make my way over to her as I have learned the hard way by the likes of Rico Suave (from a prior post) that I need to make my move quickly or lose out on the cute dance partner.

    I quickly check my nose for some hangin "spiders" and I finally get to her and say, "Lets dance!"

    She made eye contact with me and her eyes grew to the size of silver dollars where at this point I thought my amazingly handsome Cary Grant features and my Clark Gable smile was going to make her faint, but it had nothing to do with my physical appearance but more of what I said as she replied, "Like Dude, Oh. My. God. I like so can't dance okay?....Like totally I can't."

    She didn't have a valley girl accent, but I needed to spruce up this story.

    "Like so sorry! I know I'm like so totally non-bodacious!"

    Disappointed that she didn't faint from my dashingly good looks I re-assured her, "It's okay, I'll knock the rhythm into you, just follow me."

    I go in close to grab her and she starts freaking out, "Like gag me with a spoon - Oh. My. God. I like so can't dance okay! Like barf me out! You should like totally dance with one of my friends who can like totally dance fer sure!"

    This is where a Nobel decent and intelligent man would gather up the hints laid before him and come to the conclusion that while it was a gallant effort, she doesn't want to dance with you.

    Me being a nonintelligent man and not one to give up..... "Oh come on and just dance with me," I said cheerfully flashing my Clark Gable smile while my teeth sparkled from the spotlight that was moving all over the club.

    She gave in to my dazzling charm and my Erik Estrada ears. That or I just wore her down like a 4 year asking the same exact question over and over again until your head is about to explode.

    It was obviously my ears.

    So not wanting her to freak out more than she has, we are just dancing separate. Every now and then I would come in close to grab her and I would get the same response, "Like! Oh! My! God! I can't like dance!"

    After awhile I'm feeling the music and things are going better between us. I'm actually turning her and she isn't freaking out anymore and things are going so well between us that I begin brainstorming for names of our future children.

    I let go of her again so now we are dancing separate again and I start doing some footwork by myself and she is just watching me...she smiles at me and everything seems to be going in the direction of us getting married.

    Even though I wasn't really spinning her or dancing with her, I was just having fun feeling the music and overall I'm having a good time.

    It is at this point that two other chicks show up like crazy jealous lesbians fending off men for the sake of the well being of womanhood.

    I scrunch my nose up wondering what is going on when the chick I'm dancing with turns around to the two new chicks and says, "Like I've been searching for you guys like a lost credit card!"

    That is when it hit me....it hit me like a ton of bricks....I felt weak, I felt bruised and humiliated...

    I felt like Whitney Houston after an argument with Bobby Brown.

    I was THAT guy on the dance floor where the girlfriends had to come and rescue one of their own from THE weird guy that won't leave their friend alone.

    LIKE.

    OH.

    MY.

    GAWD.

    I'm THAT weirdo guy in the club that needed rescuing from....

    I put my head down and apologize to Valley Girl as I pathetically walk away from the dance floor knowing there are people staring and laughing at me as I normally would be doing at THE weirdo guy.

    Being 6'3 in a Latin club made things even more difficult for myself because I couldn't even hide as I stood out like a white man on a basketball court.

    I spent the rest of the night hearing far off giggles directed at me.

    Friday, July 16, 2004

    Employees Go Crazy For The Big Chalupa




    Last Week

    I wonder the work hallways aimlessly looking for unsuspecting secretaries that I can sneak up on and talk about my kick ass life to while bragging that Nobody Rocks Like me.

    After re-telling the story of the Leaking Tea Bags to a group of secretaries, everyone joins laughing with me at the two suckers who fell for it. Everybody Loves Me. The secretaries were laughing, they were throwing rose petals, two even offered to wash my feet with perfume. I'm like Timmy Christ the savior of the boring work place. Don't believe me? Stay with me my gentle readers as we look at some similarities of myself and the son of God:

  • He was always telling stories (I blog)
  • He was always being harassed by authorities (Damn speeding tickets)
  • He talked with His hands (I type)
  • He had wine with every meal (I have Mausen parties)
  • He lived at home until the age of 30 (I live at home)
  • He danced and sang in the name of God (I dance in the name of Celia Cruz)
  • People either hated him or loved him (Everyone Loves Me)
  • He performed miracles (I make people laugh at work - that's a miracle)
  • He wore sandals (I wear flip flops)
  • He was a virgin his whole life (Its been awhile)

    What I'm trying to say is....I'm the 2nd coming of Christ. Go & Send No More My Children

    So after some great belly laughs at the suckers expense, I head off for a cup of coffee.

    DAMMIT!!!!!!

    Only paper cups...what the fuck is up with that....who is stocking the cabinets anyways???

    I pour myself a nice hot cup of cream with two sweet N lows and splash of coffee and head back to my desk.

    After catching up on my blogs, cause Christ knows I know how all my favorite blogs update like every day and it takes forever to catch up on them, I take a sip of my cream with two sweet N lows and a splash of coffee. As I'm reading, I reach for my paper cup of cream with two sweet N lows and a splash of coffee when I barely touch the papercup thus knocking the cup over spilling the hot contents therein all over my khaki pants.

    "FUCK!"

    "Fuckin papercups!"

    If I had a real mug it wouldn't have been so easy to spill the cream with two sweet N lows and a splash of coffee all over my khaki pants!

    Dammit!!!!

    I end the week with a Mausen Party....8 people total (including me... son of God) with 6 of them being chicks.....

    GOOD TIMES!!!!


    This Week

    I come in on Monday and as usual on a Monday I'm contemplating writing a suicide note with my highlighter on my excel spreadsheet report then stapling my eyelids shut and purposely falling on my scissors.

    Someone actually had the fucking nerve to ask, "Does someone have a case of the mondays?" I wanted to lunge at them and scotch tape their mouth shut and lock them up in the janitor supply room and leave them there until Rosita found them at night.....or whatever the janitor's name is.

    I go and get some coffee and low and freakin behold, the cabinet is filled with clean company logo mugs. Would have been nice to have these freakin mugs last week. As I'm pouring my cream and emptying two sweet N lows I notice that our snack basket is filled with, pretzels, cookies, fruit bars.

    What the hell is going on?

    I'm at my desk getting ready to read some blogs when I'm notified that the Big Chalupa is in town from our LA office. Not Grande Papa, which is my boss, the boss of all bosses, but the Big Chalupa - AKA, my firm's C.F.O. Dammit, that means I'm going to have to work on these damn invoices since I won't be able to avoid his phone calls since he can just come and visit me personally to make sure I get them done as soon as possible.

    Dammit!

    Now I'm going to really fall behind in my blog reading and it is going to take me all of next week to catch up.

    Dammit!!!!

    That also means no Mausen party this week....

    DAMMIT!!!!!

    Why God....Dad????

    Why do you punish me like this...haven't I already suffered enough?

    Let me pray....

    Jesus....Self - I ask of you myself to give me strength and fortitude to climb the rock-strewn road. I ask you myself to give me courage so I can scale the hardest peaks alone, and transform every stumbling block into a steppingstone.

    Oh who am I kidding - Self, give me the easy way out cause I don't want to have to work harder than I already have to. And I pray of myself to give The Big Chalupa diarrhea and not come back to my office so I can read my favorite blogs without worry.

    Thank you me.

    Amen.




  • Monday, July 12, 2004

    I Curly - Birthday Me!

     


    Birthday me!

    I two.

    One, Two. One, Two.....YAY!!!!!

    Curly Top Christmas 03My daddy take me to see the fishies for birthday. Him life is better than yours (him told me to say that).

    I take my cousin with me.

    Omey her name.

    Even though she tried to kill me one time, I love her. We grow up together - me and her best friends.

    I love my Omey.

    Curly love Shirley Temple, and my daddy bought me music of Shirley! Omey and me sing "animal crackers in my soup" with Shirley on our way to see the fishies.

    Before fishies, we stop and eat. Omey and me pick flowers. They so purrrty.

    Me, Omey and daddy finally get to see the fishies. I see whales, biiiiiiiiiiiiiig whales. They big.

    We see big jellies too. Me and Omey play and touch star fish, and play in water.

    We crawl in tunnel and see NEMO!!!!!!!!

    I see penguins, otters and biiiiiiiiiiiiiiig fishies.

    They big fishies.

    I had fun fun day with daddy and my Omey.

    Birthday Me!

    Night Night.

    See ya, be ya!

    Byyye!

    Friday, July 09, 2004

    The Mausen Party

     


    If you work with me, then you know that I don't have a cubicle but rather an office with a window....well, let me just take this opportunity to rub it in your face while laughing at you as you sadly walk back to your pathetic cube.

    Today I'm throwing what's called a Mausen Party...named after an ex-coworker. It's when you have booze in your office and everyone gets together for a crazy drunk orgy at the work place. Well, okay - no orgies, but its like happy hour before happy hour, and its at someone's office.

    Good Times...Good Times

    Every work place should have a Mausen Party.

    Anyways, I usually have the Mausen Parties at my office. Today I was feeling extra spunky so I decided to clean my office up and impress my alcoholic co-workers by having a clean office.

    So I start cleaning my office, cleaning stuff out....granted my office was pretty much already cleaned thanks to my 7 summer interns...those of you who work with me know that isn't true and that I'm exaggerating, because I only have 2 summer interns assisting me this year - which would be 2 more than you have ever had....and again, let me just take this opportunity to rub it in your face, because My Life Is Better Than Yours.

    So as I'm cleaning I find four different species of spiders that I had no idea were living in my office while I vigorously typed away at my keyboard. I would catch them for Curly Top but I don't want to take them out of their natural environment of filth and disgust, aka: my office.

    Under my desk I see a bag...hmmm, I don't recall what is in there...so I pull it. I look inside and it is one of my missing lunch containers. Oh good I think to myself as I open the container....which I quickly found out was a big mistake as the stench coming from the container knocked me back by four feet.

    I open the other container thinking that this one couldn't possibly be as bad as the first one.....I was completely wrong with that assessment as what I believe use to be cantaloupe now had this green fuzzy appearance to it with a stench just as worse as the first container.

    I start brainstorming what I could do with this wonderful lunch in a nice container. I still have yet to get the two Suckers back from the Leaking Tea Bags....but this would just be cruel....it would just be horrific ....nah, I couldn't do it. They'll have their time.....just not this time.

    I take the two containers down stairs and stick them down in the garbage disposable ....I start thinking about how much money someone could pay me to actually eat this stuff but the smell was making me gag with convulsions, so I scratched that idea.

    I quickly finish up and go back to cleaning my office.

    1 Hour Later

    5 Chicks and 2 guys are in my office...we're laughing having a good time.....I'm being the great Mausen Host like I should be keeping the Margarita cups filled, and the Vodka content high in the other mixed drinks.

    KNOCK KNOCK

    "Shit"...someone blurted out.

    Silence quickly broke out and everyone starts scrambling and hiding drinks...two girls jump behind my door to hide while I lean over my desk and open my office door.

    Only to find another chick.....GOOOOOOD TIMES INDEED!

    I pour another drink and back to laughing and keeping the drinks filled.

    It was a great party....I toast to Mausen....and I'm here to tell you that you need a Mausen Party as well.




    I got an email with a subject line titled: ABB

    I opened it up and it had a simple statement:
    ABB = ANYONE BUT BUSH: Give Bush the boot in 2004!


    Hmmm....interesting. Simple, and to the point...so I immediately shot my own email back titled: SYB

    SYB - Shave Your Bush: Don't be fooled into thinking bush is good in any year




    Very sorry to the blogs that I read that I haven't been able to get too. What I hate about not reading every single day, is that I get back logged and then I have to read a ton of posts and catch up on all my blogs that I enjoy reading. Which totally sucks, but eh, what can you do.

    I do catch up on all posts though unless you're Ms. Chicken who blogs like a hooker hemorrhaging on the side of the road from a bad case of gonorrhea. She just celebrated her 500th post recently, so go give her a visit and laugh till you fart.

    Wednesday, July 07, 2004

    Roller Cops - A Hero Will Roll



    First, major thanks to Black Magnum from the Law Firm Clique for her guest entry post yesterday.

    Last week I was reading Region Broad's blog and she was talking a bit about cops and what not, and it got me thinking about two cops in particular that I know of.

    I use to live in this beach town. I was about two blocks from the beach and you could see the ocean from my living room.

    Good Times...Good Times.

    Anyways, the town was really small, and a bunch of people would always come over from the Bay Area to go to the beach...the bastids. So parking was very difficult to find there, well, unless you had a place two blocks from the beach like I did then you were like, "Dun't chew be zealoussss"

    People got parking tickets all the time, in fact, the city depended on the money from the parking tickets. I read it in the town newsletter. When the towns people weren't hunting for the Mexican Monster on the beaches and/or for Frankenstein with lighted torches they were very involved in the town and very political.

    A Hero Will Roll

    Anyways, the city had two, thats right, two cops who were in wheelchairs rolling around writing tickets faster than American Soldiers can abuse Iraqi prisoners. These guys were the most arrogant sons of bitches I've ever met. I hated them even more as all the beach babes were hanging off of them like Hugh Hefner on wheels.

    For Fucks Sake.

    These jerks didn't care about anything other than cold beer, hot chicks and fast tickets. They were assholes. They didn't want to hear it, and if you tried to talk to them about the ticket they were writing you, they would roll over your feet. They were the cockiest meter maids I've ever spoken too.

    I only received one parking ticket from them, and that was only because I forgot to put my registration sticker on my license plates. He's lucky I wasn't there to witness him locking his wheelchair in place while he whipped out his ticket book, because I would have Chinesed back-flipped out of the way of his wheels of death and round house kicked him in the back of his head. Then I would have taken his female groupies, push his wheelchair down the hill while we watched and laughed as seagulls pooped on his motionless body. That is exactly what I would have done.

    Click For Larger Image





    Office Tip #423

    Do not under any circumstances place a paper cup full of hot coffee in front of your keyboard while reading blogs.

    Said cup will be knocked over spilling the contents therein onto your nice non-stain repellent khaki's thus creating the illusion once the coffee has dried that you need to seriously invest in a colostomy bag.




    Getting Older

    The past couple of weeks I've had this really weird feeling that I have this booger hanging out of my nose. Then I get really self-conscious about it, I'll keep checking my nose - rubbing it, taking in deep breaths through my nose...I look like I'm snorting cocain cause I keep sniffling then rubbing my nose. I don't want to be the employee that everyone looks at with pitty, "Poor TIMMY!...he's turned to cocain for comfort."

    I go and check on my nose like every 3 minutes because I get so self conscious about it, but there is nothing there...I don't know what my problem is. I think it has something to do with myself getting older. I probably have new nose hairs poking at different angles in my nose thus tickling the inside of my nose giving me the feeling that I have a massive Mr. Salty Booger ready to jump out and feed on my blood like a crazy mosquito.

    I buy one of those nose hair trimmers so I don't have to constantly keep feeling like Robert Downey Jr. by rubbing my nose every 17 seconds, but it doesn't work....the same feeling is there all the time...I'm just getting old.

    Getting old sucks.


    I went to a BBQ on Sunday evening to celebrate the 4th of July, America's Independence, we BBQ, we drank...and yet, it wasn't as fun for me as it would have been about 5 years ago.

    5 Years Ago -
  • I grope any and all chicks
  • While talking to chicks, I stare at cleavage
  • I flirt like a game show host
  • I take shots and mix alcohol before I eat to get drunk faster making all the chicks look like the Tamale Lady...an angel
  • I try to get laid with any and all chicks - the more the merrier
  • I don't leave until the cops come the 2nd time

    Current -
  • I make sure I eat something BEFORE attending the BBQ
  • I give one armed hugs as to not violate any of the ladies
  • I make constant eye contact to be sure not to be the pervert who stares at cleavage
  • I don't mix any alcohol - I drink the same drink all evening
  • I keep checking my nose for boogers
  • I leave before midnight to assure a good night's sleep


    Yeah...getting old sucks but....

    At least I'm not in a wheelchair.
  • Tuesday, July 06, 2004

    Guest Post by Black Magnum

     


    Feel Me?


    A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A PIMP

    The Scene: Camping, July 3, 2004, 1:04 PM


    BLACK MAGNUM (answering blocked call): talk to me

    FLASH GORDON: what's up nigga!

    BLACK MAGNUM (surprised to hear from Flash & not feeling like such a PIMP): uh...hi

    FLASH GORDON: oh, you forgot me already?

    BLACK MAGNUM (would never forget Flash, best lay so far): oh, how's it going, haven't talked to you in a hot minute!

    FLASH GORDON: i'm moving in.

    BLACK MAGNUM (thinking will have first felony if Flash moves in): what?

    FLASH GORDON: (thinking i'm better looking than that cat Tyrone): tell Tyrone you can't fuck with him anymore, if you don't tell him i will.

    BLACK MAGNUM (at this point scarred, thinking of calling 911): huh?

    FLASH GORDON: you heard me nigga! i miss you and i want to get back with you. i just shot my album cover and will start touring soon.

    BLACK MAGNUM (yeah he'll be fucking every bitch in every city): what does that have to do with me?

    FLASH GORDON: nigga! i'm gonna blow up soon.

    BLACK MAGNUM (fantasizing bout cadillac on 20s and diamond earrings): what does that have to do with me? i loved you when you were broke.

    FLASH GORDON (fantasizing bout cadillac on 20s and video hos): nigga! you know i want to have kids with you, the white house, the picket fence all that shit!

    BLACK MAGNUM (on way to casino): i'm camping right now, i'm not getting great reception.

    FLASH GORDON: nigga! i can hear you fine. stop playing. i miss you and i want to get back with you. i want to work on our relationship. i don't want to have kids right now, but we can start on it next year.

    BLACK MAGNUM (Flashback to being prejudiced at the KKK 4th of july party for being half breed, kids will be 1/4 indian, 1/4 mexy & 1/2 black): what the hell, you can't just pop back into my life. (MAGNUM will now throw in analogy to make Flash laugh) we are at different levels, i'm kobe bryant and you were trying to bench me. nigga i was the supa star trying to get signed with you- you let me pass by and signed up Chris Mullen.

    FLASH GORDON: whatever nigga, i'm coming over next week to pick up a key.

    BLACK MAGNUM (wondering if i can get out of lease and move): you can't just walk back in my life. i'm already seeing somebody.

    FLASH GORDON: if you want to ruin your life and have kids with somebody else, then ruin your life!

    BLACK MAGNUM (wondering if life will be ruined if have kids with Flash): my life will be ruined if i have kids with you!

    FLASH GORDON: whatever nigga, call me when you get back.

    BLACK MAGNUM: ok-wait by the phone.

    The Scene: Still Camping, July 3, 2004, 45 minutes later

    BLACK MAGNUM (answering blocked call at casino): hello?

    FLASH GORDON: are you done playing? where are you?

    BLACK MAGNUM: i told you i was camping

    FLASH GORDON: what's all that noise in the background?

    BLACK MAGNUM: i'm at the casinos

    FLASH GORDON: yeah nigga camping-i bet you're picking up all the brothas

    BLACK MAGNUM: whatever-what do you want?

    FLASH GORDON: you know we belong together. i miss you baby.

    BLACK MAGNUM (starting to get weak in knees, feeling like superman with kryptonite): i can't talk right now. will call you when i get back.

    FLASH GORDON: i love you nigga!




    Disclaimer
    The names have been changed to protect the guilty and prevent the authorities from finding the whereabouts of the above mentioned characters.

    Thursday, July 01, 2004

    The Repressed Chubby Greaseball

     


    I'm a repressed greaseball people. I think it has something to do with all the tamales I eat or maybe it has something to do with the following little story.

    Last night I went to happy hour and I run into an ex-coworker whom I haven't seen in like 4 years, she always has this, I'm stone look on her face, so we'll call her Ms. Stoner.

    "Oh my God!" Ms. Stoner says as she runs up and gives me a hug.

    "Hey! How are you?" I ask as I flash my Clark Gable smile.

    Without missing a beat she grabs my cheek and says, "Wow, you've gotten chubby."

    Whoa....whoa....WHOAAAAAA

    What?

    Excuse me?

    What was that?

    Wait...did you just call me fat in a nice way?

    I was ready to Jackie Chan kung fu her skinny crack ass to the floor, sit on her with my J. Lo ass and gauge her eyeballs out like a chicken, but I composed myself and kept the conversation going by chuckling and making a statement to help my excuse on becoming a repressed chubby greaseball, "Well, that's what happens as we get older."

    "Well not me..." Ms. Stoner says as she strikes a pose while throwing her hands up as to say, Look at me, I'm so wonderful and great...then laughs like she is just joking but her eyes say, "I'm a super star diva....don't be jealous."

    Well, not all of us snort cocain while starving ourselves and then stick a finger down our throat when we do eat to keep our girlie figure.

    I'm sorry....I like fucking tamales and I ain't puking them up. So what if I just waste space and resources meant for real Americans....I ain't puking my tamales up!

    YOU HEAR ME???

    I AIN'T PUKING MY TAMALES UP!!!!!!!!!

    Who has the nerve to say that to someone? Good to see you again....wow you're so fat now. You remind of a diet pill commercial when they show the before & after pictures, you look exactly like the before pictures. In fact, didn't I see you on the Oprah Winfrey show who eventually kill themselves by eating themselves to death?

    I can't imagine saying that to someone....behind their back yeah, but right to their face? Right to their face while grabbing their fat cheek? Right to their face while grabbing their fat cheek and shaking it like the little packets of season that comes in the Top Ramin packages?

    No way Jose.

    Like no repressed greaseball way.




    Asshole!

    Hot Teacher


    The nerve of some people...I can't imagine doing this....

    Debra Quad 23-year-old teacher is accused of committing lewd and lascivious acts with a 14-year-old. She was married less than a year ago...read the full article.

    I can't believe it...what a fucking asshole. How the hell could he do that? That's right...you heard me...how the hell could HE turn her in when he was getting some from her?

    Hello, you're 14, you will never get another sexual only encounter with a hot chick like that unless you pay for it. You're an idiot. You probably live in a single parent home where you're dad left and you never see him huh? Well, let me give you some advice that your father should have given you before apparently running off and letting you waste your life away so pathetically.

    Fatherly Advice ~ By Timmy
    You hit every piece of ass you can get...especially fine asses like Mrs. Quad. One day you will get older and put on weight and the only ass you'll be getting will be from Charlie Sheen's blow up doll you bought off of E-Bay. Trust me when I say, as you get older you will put on weight and this will happen to you, unless you are Ms. Stoner because she never puts on weight.


    This whole situation is yet just another reason why dad's need to be involved in their child's life. This is just plain pathetic. I'm so angry at this situation I can't even tipe praperly.

    You had to open your big mouth didn't ya? Way to go....You sent a beautiful teacher to jail and now she will be forced to give blow jobs to guards for two cigarettes and a shoe string. Way to go on ruining Mrs. Quad's marriage, her career and her life you inconsiderate little prick.

    You slept with this chick twice and then open your mouth and ruin it all....

    You dipshit.

    I hate you.