Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Deep Fried in a Vat of Rancid Oil

Sometimes a story comes along and you can’t help yourself but follow its insanity and snicker along the way. Such is the case with the New Jersey tanning mom scandal.

If you aren’t familiar with the story it’s basically about a New Jersey mother, Patricia Krentcil, who was arrested for allegedly taking her five year old daughter to the tanning salon. The over-tanned mother has of course vehemently denied the allegations and has since done everything in her power to milk her fifteen minutes of fame by flapping her burned lips to anyone who’ll listen. 

Here’s the mother’s picture:

Poor thing looks like she’s been deep fried in a vat of rancid oil.  How is that attractive? 

Her face skin looks tough, blotched, weathered, leathered and has certainly seen better days. I suggest vats of moisturizer and lots and lots and lots of shade.


When I first saw her on television I mistakenly assumed she was the little girl’s grandmother. Tuns out she’s only forty-four years old.  Ooh, the decades haven’t been kind. By the time she’s a senior citizen she’s gonna look like a mummy. 

Then I read she’s offered herself to Playboy for a pictorial.  Naked in the pages of Playboy?  The world isn’t ready to see her tan lines.

Maybe she doesn’t have tan lines? Maybe she tans totally nude? If that’s the case then her private parts must be quite crispy. No need for a Brazilian wax on her. Whatever was growing down there must be burned clean. 

Thank goodness Playboy declined her offer.

Suddenly I no longer think Snooki is the worst thing to come out of New Jersey.

Tuesday, May 08, 2012

Whoooooah... Poop Tits

The other day I was roaming the parking lot at work when I came across a car with a sticker in the window that said “Poop Tits.”

Poop. Tits. Huh?
I’m usually one who can figure out what something means but this had my man tits in a dizzy.  I know about poop, and I know about tits. I’ve seen poop, and I’ve seen tits. But the two together totally constipated my thought process.

And then in the middle of the sticker was a picture of a wheeled chair.

So what does Poop + Wheeled chair + Tits equal?

It’s a conundrum for sure.

My investigative instincts took over and I searched out the owner of the car and sticker; a woman in my office.  Yes, the Poop Tits sticker owner was a tit’s length away from me. 

I immediately asked her to tell me about Poop Tits. What’s the meaning?

She sorta smiled and said it’s a phrase her and her friends came up with to say whenever a phrase needs saying. As for the wheeled chair? It’s just a graphic without any significance.

So when does a phrase need saying?

If you stub your toe against a door jam you can say “Ugh, Poop Tits!”

If you see a picture of Sarah Palin in a bathing suit you can scream, “Eeeew, Poop Tits!”

If you haven’t seen your best friend in a long time you can happily greet them with “Hey There Poop Tits!”

Poop Tits, Poop Tits, Poop Tits! 

It’s the new phrase.

Learn it and use it.

Friday, May 04, 2012

The Toothless Bastard

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned...

Did you hear about the woman dentist in Poland whose ex-boyfriend (they broke up three days earlier) went to her with a toothache and she removed all his teeth?

"I tried to be professional and detach myself from my emotions," said Anna Mackowiak, the scorned woman. "But when I saw him lying there I just thought, 'What a bastard' and decided to take all his teeth out."

Okay,.. why would you go to your ex-girlfriend when it was obviously not an amicable breakup?

Was she the only dentist in town?

She’s now facing three years in prison and he’s facing life with dentures.

Just because she was part of his oral history before the break up what made him think it would continue, albeit in a different way, after the break up?

Makes me wonder what she would have done had she been his proctologist or his urologist or his cardiologist.  Eew, ugh, and ouch. 

But when I think of those other possibilities I think he got off pretty easy. So what if he won’t be able to eat corn on the cob again?  So what if the glass of water beside his bed will now be home to his teeth every night?  At least he still has his sphincter, urethra, and heart.

I hope for his new dentist he calls 1-800-DENTIST for a referral.