My Name Is Ishmael, But You Can Call Me Asshole

That’s kind of where I’m at today.

We love you, but you’re an asshole.

Yeah…I can kinda see how you came to that conclusion.

Is there any use in attempting to defend myself?  No?

Asshole it is!

But you love me, right?

You still think I’m pretty awesome most of the time, right?

Everybody is allowed one mistake, right?




Oh, sorry.  I was talking to myself….


Snow Storms and Swearing

The impending snow storm has various members of our community in a tizzy.  The grocery stores and supermarkets should be inundated with hoards of people ready to buy the last banana and potato chip bag left on the quickly depleting shelves.  I dare say the liquor store is the busiest. Afterall, what is a major snowstorm without the booze and Doritos?  Bring it, snow Gods we have our beer and are ready to partay!!   All I need is a 60cm snow drift in front of my door to block out the asshats who think snow storms are for driving around in and MUST GET TO WORK!  What??!!  I can’t hear you with the 100km/hr winds drowning out your sorry excuse of a yell…go home!  No!  I can’t help push your tiny smart car down the street…Ugh…

I can’t talk about what I really want to talk about because I’m not fully exonerated from my sins yet, so I will say this instead…um…..fuck. 

I sincerely enjoy that word.

Fuckity, fuck-fuck, fuck…shit.  Dammit…fuck-poop…

My verbal cussing is enjoyable for me.  Sorry if you-

Wait…nope, can’t apologize…I’m not sorry. 

I’m not fucking sorry.

There, that’s better.