Posts Tagged ‘happy’

Or actually I should say Merry Christmas. Not that I don’t respect people who celebrate holidays other than Christmas. I’m just saying, Hanukkah is over and Christmas is tomorrow so clearly when I’m wishing you happy holidays I’m referring specifically to Christmas. Unless of course I am including Kwanza or Boxing Day into the discussion; even New Year’s.

But whatever you celebrate, even if it happened a month ago, have a good one. Or have a bad one. It’s really up to you. So have one.

Art at Pouring My Art Out wished for me to basically write a post devoid of jokes involving race, sex, religion, or abuse and it must not have any outlandish opinion to it. In other words, he wanted me to write something nobody would ever want to read. He did however say it should be about happy things or at least I think he did. So here’s a post about happy things without any insults to anybody. I feel like throwing up. What’s something that makes everybody happy? Animals! Here are some things about my experiences with certain animals. It’s completely appropriate for children too as there are no insults or foul language.

(This post can be enjoyed by everyone in this picture)


I grew up in a home with pussies. We had three pussies in total. The first two were named Stephanie and her brother’s name was pronounced “Stah-Shoe” which I am told is the Yiddish name for Stanley. I’m scratching my head too. The third cat we had was named Briscoe after the Bruce Campbell show Briscoe County Junior. At least we watched the show.

Stephanie’s strangest quark involved her sleeping habits. There were only two places she ever slept, in the “messy room” on an old air conditioner and on my bed. She shed a lot and I have always been allergic to cats so I always tried convincing her the air conditioner was better. Still, it was nice to know I had the most comfortable bed in the house in a room with a door that could not shut.

“Stah-Shoe” was a tough cat. By the time I could have memories he only had one good eye. He was always getting into fights with other cats in our old home in Edison, New Jersey which I am told was a tough neighborhood. He was a black cat who purred louder than anything else. He was probably the most cuddly of the cats I ever had ownership over. He also has the highest kill count if you’re scoring at home.

Briscoe was more my older sister’s cat. My mom did not like him very much. He always peed in the corner of the living room and was a general annoyance. In a lot of ways he’s exactly like McGwire the Dog, more of a pest than a companion. I think this is what happens when animals are overly babied. Briscoe was still a nice cat who never minded being picked up and swung around the room. At least, he never said it annoyed him.

(Little pussies are my favorite)


It seems like every dog I meet is a male dog, never a bitch. I prefer bitches. Female dogs usually like male humans more and vice versa. I had mastership over one female dog in my lifetime, her name was Baylee.

The first time I met Baylee was when I came home from school one winter day in 2nd grade. She was extremely thin at the time after the abuse she endured. Baylee sat on the couch and when I opened the door her head poked up. It was love at first sight. By far she was the coolest dog ever. She had bad hips yet was still a great athlete. I could throw balls to her and like Air Bud she would hit them up in the air.

Baylee was a great companion for a young boy. She even somewhat understood soccer rules. A dog comprehended that she was supposed to block a ball from going one way and that she was trying to push it in the other direction. McGwire the dog still doesn’t understand his heavy breathing is the least sexy noise to wake up to. I miss Baylee.

(Two bitches playing Frisbee together)


In America it’s illegal to own an ass. Asses, otherwise known in children’s books as donkeys, are not great pets. I’m not exactly sure why. Has anyone ever tried it? I think we need to give them a chance.

There’s not much I can say about these animals. Nobody goes to a zoo to see them. I know asses are important in some countries where they are used as transportation. In America their only purpose is to run for public office and screw over the kind people who live in this fine country.

(Check out these adorable asses rubbing together)


Some people wake up from the sound a cock makes. It sounds like “cock-a-doodle-doo!” I think we have all at some point in our life thought about quitting our jobs and working on a farm. I know I have. There’s something about living on a farm that seems so pure and beautiful. Your biggest responsibility is making sure you’re pulling your weight.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen a nice cock. Whenever I do see a rooster they’re always scary. Aren’t emus just giant roosters? Emus are the scariest animal on the planet and yes I’m including Megashark in this debate. I don’t know if I would ever want to wake up from a rooster cawing. I prefer my phone alarm because at least my phone doesn’t creep me out.

(Three cocks just hanging out doing their thing in a public park)

There you go. A nice post where I did not degrade anyone and managed to keep everything completely family friendly. If we learned anything here it’s to never trust me to grant you a wish with a positive result in the end.

I woke up sad this morning. Actually, it wasn’t today. I’ve mentioned before that I write many of my blog postings ahead of time. So by this morning, I mean the morning that I am writing this. Actually, it’s around 6:30 now. But you don’t care about that.

For the sake of moving things alone, lets say that it was THIS morning that I woke up sad. It was a strange sadness. I didn’t have work or really any other responsibilities that I saw that I had to get done. Yet I still felt terribly depressed. What I felt I needed was comfort. Some sort of reminder of why I’m here and something to make me feel good. Because of that I am writing this, a list of things that bring me comfort.

1) Nostalgic Children’s Shows

Any time I think of television shows I watched as a kid I feel really warm and fuzzy. It’s what I imagine a hairy vagina must feel like if it had emotions. If the Illuminati work with Disney, expect a film about a group of talking vaginas to come out within the next two years. Even later on when I was way too old to watch some of these kids shows I still would. Arthur is one show that comes to mind that I watched consistently and would still probably watch if I had cable. I’ve seen most of the episodes probably close to 100 times and sometimes twice in one day. It’s comfortable and predictable. It brings me back to when my classmates didn’t have pubic hair and the only periods we knew about came at the end of sentences.

At the end of last year and the beginning of this, I got onto a huge television kick. From Netflix I rented The Adventures of Pete & Pete and then Gargoyles. Very different shows, but they brought me back to those same feelings that I reminisce about. Pete & Pete was quirky and had a lot of humor that I still don’t understand. Gargoyles was a Disney cartoon where at least one human was killed an episode. It’s the greatest cartoon of all-time and still hasn’t been matched in how continuous the storylines are or how epic it’s opening theme was. I almost wanted to cry watching it as it was Little Timmy’s favorite TV show when I was a mere 5-year-old. That delves into the idea that I wish I could be friends with myself from every year of existence and say “Hey, it’s going to be all right.” Insane, I know.

2) Zoos

I used to go to a lot of zoos when I was a kid. Shit, this is starting to turn into how everything that brings me comfort is just something that reminds me of my childhood. My childhood wasn’t fantastic, but I was never physically abused so I guess I shouldn’t complain. Zoos are still fun to go to. I went to one last year for my birthday. I love looking at animals. They’re quickly becoming a hobby of mine. They’re like celebrities but they all have the same things wrong with them. I really need to read more about weird animal facts.

The best thing about zoos are the areas where you get to pet or feed the animals. I’ve gotten to feed a giraffe which is probably the most interesting animal that I have fed. I’ve also tossed popcorn to bears and at lions at a place I used to always go to where you can feed animals popcorn. How amazing is that? Feeding grizzly bears popcorn. If that doesn’t bring you comfort then you have no heart.

3) Smiles

Whenever a stranger smiles at me I feel comfortable. That is, if it’s the right kind of smile. We know the difference between a good smile and a bad one. It all really matters if the person smiling is attractive or not. When a big fat girl smiles at me and I’m still not sure if she’s retarded or not, I feel no comfort. I feel fear and usually frown back. It’s a sure-fire way to let that animal know that you have no interest in feeding them a carrot (that’s what I fed the giraffe!)

With smiles I also would loop in compliments. Any friendly, unsolicited interaction with another human being is great. People coming up to me and saying that I look good or that they’ve seen worse always cheers me up. It makes me smile. Then they judge me if I’m attractive or not and that will determine if they feel comfort.

4) Books

This is a strange one. I don’t read all that much yet when I do I get a lot of comfort out of the books. I’d love to read more, but I just never seem to have the time. I’m always trying to write stuff of my own and that seems to take up all of my creative time that I use for words. The other creative time I use on trying to develop new sexual positions and acts to partake in. Once I learn to stand on my head and am flexible enough to eat my own ass, I will be an Internet sensation.

I’m hoping that once baseball season officially ends I will get more into reading. I’m not a super sports fan or anything, but not having cable I use listening to sports on the radio as a way of “keeping up with live reality.” It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t live without cable. I can get lost in time. If I have something scheduled that I cannot partake in any other time then I feel more normal. Books take me completely out of that normal feeling, which is good sometimes. Time is relative. That’s why when we’re around shitty people it feels like years instead of 30 seconds.

5) Snow

I live in an apartment now and they shovel all of the snow for me. Other than having to dig my car out, snow isn’t a problem at all. My car is all wheel drive so it handles well in the wintry goodness. Even if I do spin out, what’s the worst that will happen? I’ll land on some snow and feel happy.

Everyone clinging to their childhood (myself included) love snow because we associate it with getting off from school. I still get depressed Sunday nights because it makes me think of how I would feel when I’d have a great weekend of not leaving the house and then have to go back to school the next day. Snow’s the same way. It reminds me of Christmas and I love Christmas. I get presents and have an excuse to eat pie. If I was Jesus I would have been born in February. Winter is so depressing after Christmas when there isn’t any snow. It’s just cold. If we had Christmas in February then it would be right in the middle of the season and it wouldn’t feel so long. Or let’s have two Christmas holidays. I could go for that.

There are a lot of mixed messages pounding in my head about how to deal with emotions. On one hand I’m told not to cry because I’m a boy and need to be strong. On the other hand I’m told not to bottle things up. Most of the time, all I want to do is cry. I want to cry when the line at the bank is too long. I want to cry when one of my sinuses are stuffed up. But I can’t cry. All because of how society will react to my behavior. It’s nuts.

I keep my emotions bottled up for the most part. I don’t like to rub how awesome my day was in the faces of others. I also like to be honest so I have to go out of my way to make sure that I have a bad day. That way everybody wins. I get to remain being honest about how bad my day was and you don’t feel lousy knowing how inexplicably awesome it could have easily been.

The older I get, the more in touch with my emotions I am. I’m not afraid to cry or smile in the faces of strangers. I’m so not afraid of it that I probably do it too often. Which do you think is creepier? The smiling stranger or the crying one? I’d say the smiling one. There are more things to cry about than there are to smile about. I’m much more likely to trust a crier than I am a smiler. People who smile too much are usually brainwashed and may or may not still have their testicles. At least a crier you know their intentions, to bring you down.

The only time one should really always show their emotions is when they are positive emotions. Really, as much as it can be annoying to know about how much more wonderful your life is than mine, it’s still good for you to let it out. If I have a problem with your great life, I will not pay attention to it. Or more likely, I will find a physical flaw of yours and make fun of it. And if you have a problem with that, big ears, you can continue bragging about how wonderful your life is. You have to give a little to get a little.

For negative thoughts I believe more often than not it’s best to keep those deep inside. If I let out everything I thought I would probably be in prison, an insane asylum, or on television. I’m not tough enough for prison, not flexible enough for straight jackets, and don’t tan well enough to be on television. I could always play a ghost or a hermit, but then there’s the fact that I am a terrible actor.

From talking to other people, if I hadn’t kept my emotions bottled up as a teenage boy and instead shared my feelings like I was “supposed to”, I probably would be dead in a murder suicide right now. Being a teenage sucks and the worst thing about it is that it’s impossible to understand that you’re not alone until you get older. Mostly everybody I know had fantasies of blowing things up or stabbing enemies to death with novelty pencils. Teenagers are the most violent human beings, what with raging hormones and the anger at having pubic hair to trim. It’s not good to share your emotions when you’re a teenager. They try to send you to school psychiatrists who forgot what it’s like to feel left out. School psychiatrists are dicks. The moment they send a kid somewhere else for “help” is the same moment they ruin that kid’s self-esteem. And that’s all we’ve got in this world, esteem for ourselves. Once that’s ruined, then we’ve got nothing. Then we really have something to be angry about.

It’s good to be honest about how you feel, but remember, if you think it may make you sound crazy, it probably will. Some things are left unsaid, at least for a while. If you’re reading this and you’re an angry teenager do not fret. Most of those problems that piss you off now will go away. You’ll find new things to get angry about. Instead of being pissed off about what someone said on Facebook you can be pissed off about the realization that you will die alone. Yikes!

Wear your emotions honestly, but don’t be surprised when people think you’re a nutbag. We’re all a little crazy, big deal. But if your emotions involve kidnapping, torture, or murder, wait a few years until you grow out of it. Odds are you’ll find someone else who feels the same way and you’ll both end up in prison for doing something perverted to a mean gym teacher’s buttocks.