On the road

Effin yip-eeee. Atlanta. The airport hasn't changed much. Still busy-busy, and thank goodness, still have smoking lounges. May be my last opportunity for several hours. I'll be transiting the land of fruits and nuts (aka LAX) and I seem to remember there was only a single smoking area, but that was years ago. They've probably even declared the area out in front of the terminal a beach, and banned smoking there too, by now.

Still not sayin where I'm going. Of course, Atlanta isn't really a tipoff. If you live anywhere in the Southeastern US, you gotta go through Atlanta to get to Hell. I did mention Kalee-for-nigh-ay, so yeah, I'll be headed westward. You'll just have to come back later to find out where, if you're really that curious.

Of course, you probably couldn't care less. I know I wasn't really interested in where Bill was going. So disinterested that I can't even be bothered to scroll down and see if he mentioned it in his last Livejasmin post.

Better rap this up. Talk about blogging under pressure. Laptop Lane has changed their formula since the last time I used one. Used to be a flat rate, in 15 minute blocks. Now they charge by the minute. Greedy bastages. But I guess I shouldn't bitch. Hey, I'm on the net, getting my fix of bloggy goodness, even if it is only a quickie.

Leavin...on a jet plane

Everybody's doin it. Bill and Alice are on the road, going to a family gathering.

What. like I'm the blog babysitter or something? I'm supposed to stop in and check on it, make sure it has enough food, water it if it needs it, and I don't even get to use the hot tub or the pool?

Screw that. The damned thing has enough food in it's bowl, and who says it has to be a ball and chain, eh? Oh, and who are you to tell me somethin like that, huh? Wanna come down here and say that again? I didn't think so.

Anyway. I'm off to the airport. Yes airport. The place with the airplanes, and the metal detectors. And I'm going to get on one of those airplanes. And I might do a post from the Chaturbate road, but then that would be sort of like levaing the table at the restaurant to call the kids every 15 minutes, now wouldn't it.

Actually, the plane may travel over Iowa, and this is just a cheap excuse to try and look down Jennifer's shirt.

Yeah, I'm headed for points outta town.

Ciao bella!

Bill skips town

Seems that Bill is ow "on the lamb".

No, not like that! You people are twisted!

Looks like the mounting pile of circumstantial connections between Bill and the body found in the Samsonites floating in the Chesapeake has been a bit more than he could handle. Yeah, yeah, I know, he says he's going to his Aunt's funeral, buit c'mon, she passed on almost a month ago.

What mounting evidence, you ask? Well, we've already got two coincidences that Bill has yet to explain, and last night, talking with him by phone from an undisclosed Jasminlive location (I think it may have been his kitchen, and no, Cheney wan't there, as far as I could tell - but Bill was pretty evasive, I must say), Bill did disclose that he knew someone from New Joisee named Maguire - which coincidentally is the name the cops have released as that of the body parts in the suitcases. There was something else he mentioned that was kookily coincidental, but by that point I wasn't really paying attention to him any longer. It happens. He starts yammering on and on and on and on and...well, you get the picture. Just sort of fades off into the background noise.

Anyway, there you have it. Bill starring in the 21st century remake of "The Fugitive". Not that he holds a candle to either Harrison Ford or David Jansen. Who casts this crap, anyway?

Birthdays, Funerals & My Ass

Paul says you don't have to apologize for not blogging.

If you have nothing to say at all, it is not mandatory to post an apology. Readers don't require a doctor's note.

If Paul says it, it must be true. So I'm not going to apologize. And it's not that I have nothing to say, although I don't, it's just that work has been busy and I'll be talking a trip up to Pennsylvania tomorrow for a combination Birthday party (for my Mom) and a funeral service for my dead Aunt who died about a month ago. And no, she won't be in attendance. What can I say, my family's weird. We don't do the whole week of mourning, standing around in a creepy funeral parlor making small talk with relatives that we haven't seen in 20 years because we hate them, then drive to the gravesite followed by 37 other cars so we can listen to a 87 year old priest blather on and on about the deceased and how she's in a better place, and God's will and blah, blahblah, blahblah until you're ready to pass out from the heat and boredom and then someone throws dirt on the poor dead person, and now it's time to go get drunk with the dimwit relatives.

We just skip right to "the getting drunk part". We should've been Irish, I swear to God. So my point is, posting may be light to none over the next few days. Although when Sweet Alice and I get together with my sister and brother-in-law, whacky hijinx usually abound. Remember the BURNING OF THE UNDERWEAR last year?

Stay tuned.

Oh and by the way, my ass is much better. Thanks for asking.

All News is Local, somewhere

Well, the string of coincidences in the case of the guy found in the suitcases floating in the Chesapeake Bay and Bill continue to mount. First coincidence - suitcases and body parts found in Virginia Beach - Bill lives in Virginia Beach. Second coincidence - the guy in the suitcases was from New Jersey - Bill is also from New Jersey.

What do you have to say about that Mr. Practiced how a body reacts in water using a possum in the Pool? I think you got some 'splainin to do.

But not neraly as much as the charming local couple that tried to claim that a whole mouse was served to them in a bowl of soup at an area Cracker Barrel restaurant. Seems that the mouse didn't drown, nor was cooked, and had a skull fracture consistent with being snapped in a run of the mill mousetrap. After being arrested the Live Sex Chat couple denied they planted the mouse in the soup, and claim that reports of their demands they be paid 1/2 million bucks by Cracker Barrel were a fabrication by the restaurant in a conspiracy with the cops to discredit their tale.

Why I'm Like A god And Some Other Stuff

My plan worked exactly as I intended. I knew it would. If you whine enough, good things are bound to happen. I got tons of links and comments. Here are some of the idiots who fell for it, er, I mean some of the bloggers who linked me.

This guy thinks I suck and won't give me his liver. I'll take what I can get.

This guy wrote a whole post about me while he was drunk. It includes this about me:

In my impaired state I found the blog funnier then I ever remembered. All the posts were riotous - biting satire, broad slapstick humor, mirthful one-liners. I couldn't stop laughing, I had to resist the urge to leave comments like "LOL" and "ROTFLMAO". Even his fonts seemed fontier.

My fonts were in fact 'fontier' on Friday! Nice observation. Even though his description of my blog is deadly accurate, it's kind of weird that he would do a whole post about me and offer me his liver, both kidneys and his spleen. It's like he's in love with me or something. And while he is cute, I'm married and Homey don't play that.

Susie is being a little brat and thinks I'm "selfish". I don't "pay enough attention" to her. I don't "return the love". I'm an "ingrate". I'm "obsessed" with "Michele". Blah, blah, blah. So what's you're point?

This guy says this is "a tight little blog". You think he's talking about my writing style or my asshole? Doesn't matter. Go visit this blog if only for the silly sandwich at the top and rainbow vagina post (you have to scroll down).

I'm sure there's more but I don't care.