Friday, March 6, 2009

It's some o'clock somewhere

Whoopdee fucking doo, whipped out my blog and proceeded to post in high MacGyver style, spinning a few choice words, stolen images dabbled with a bit of Paint-as-Photoshop Substitute, links, internet not sausage though I am pretty hungry how about some pancakes and syrup too, paper clips and chewing gum into a cobbled masterpiece of such coherent genius that it won accolades from all realms of thought, both electro-artificial and of the meat world to where I was feted by heads of state, fellated by all the ladies of my dreams that I reciprocated in kind cunningly twice or thrice believe you me oh yeah and a bunch of other neato words that begin with F including funds, large and in my own fabulous bank account accessible electronically fast! fast! fast! via my fancy house in France. Funky fresh fly Farsi flabbergasted for fucking fantastic flamenco fills.

Then the alarm shook me out of my stupor, I rubbed my eyes, saw the lithe form of my evil, sleeping wife under the covers, fumbled to turn off the stupid thing, the alarm, not my wife, who doesn't make a peep while she sleeps, but steals the covers which is wrong on principle -- you know, evil -- but I'm not a freeze baby so I don't mind all that much, but what I do mind is [redacted for Randal security] while cursing the barking dogs of my grease monkey neighbor who is really overdue to crash his junker racer and die a horrible flaming, dismembering and bloodsplattering death the fucking cracker dickhead asshole, grabbed some clothes, told to the cats to stop meowing for five seconds I'll get you fresh soft food Jesus keep your fur on and then headed to the shower where I contemplated going to work yet again to help assholes yet again who I think about slaughtering yet again with medieval instruments yet again but simply feign interest yet again while brainstorming my scrambled egg brain to post yet again that you weirdos read yet again because you too are slacking at work yet again.

Shit, it's only eight or thereabouts, but then I remember that spring break is coming up sooner rather than later and I have about 752 days or thereabouts of vacation and no money but the kids are in school and I can stay home and read in theoretical quantum quiet plus two albums that I've been dying to listen to but aren't yet released have been preordered and will soon or thereabouts be on the way to my house and then I can listen and write up pretentious reviews that you weirdos read yet again because you too are slacking at work yet again but I warn you both are pitchfork n' chainsaw metal yet again, no hip hop, hillbilly or hipster pop here, I said MOTHERFUCKING METAL.

See, Nunly? Shirtless rocking out, just for you and all the other immature wisogynistic objectifiers of men. And no complaining or I will put up a picture of Boner or Bubba Jindal.

The wall behind my desk is a giant window which is both good and bad, but it's better than a cubicle like a lot of you are suffering with so ha ha ha ha, but sometimes birds slam into it and bust their grey matters up just enough to fall to the concrete and die. I've been working on a way of magically switching their place in space-time with various political types because I figure the birds are at least useful to our biosphere. I'm not sure how to do that, but I have a lot of Legos to use, mine from when I was a kid and those of my lunatic offspring, but I can't generate 1.21 gigawatts using anything around the house nor have I been successful at capturing the energy from a bolt of lightning because of the spare pickings of anything around the house. There has to be some bailout money that hasn't been gobbled up by bank CEOs so they can get that ivory backscratcher, right?

I should do this brain dump posting more often. Sure beats thinking ahead of time. Now I know what wingnuts feel like, minus the array of -isms and incorrect spelling. Please don't be a grammar Nazi today though, I'd fail miserably, but then again, so would Proust, not that I'm in his league, but then again neither are you. Since each one of us sucks, let's all skip work and have a drink. Yeah, I know it's only eight or thereabouts.

A toast to suckitude!


Suzi Riot said...

That was awesome. And I'm not slacking at work, I'm procrastinating going to work... yet again.

Liberality said...

let's all skip work and have a drink
now that sounds like a plan but one I am unfortunately unable to do--but it was nice to think about for a minute or two.

anita said...

" ... where I was feted by heads of state, fellated by all the ladies of my dreams that I reciprocated in kind cunningly twice or thrice believe you me oh yeah ... "

ha ha randal, you crack me !! i hope mrs. graves isn't reading this. she may just stop her habit of sleeping so peeplessly !!

Randal Graves said...

suzi, please don't disappoint me and reveal that you went to work.

liberality, well, drink some coffee or tea and pretend it's cheap bourbon.

anita, tell Mrs. Graves my deepest, darkest secrets? And be bobbitized?

Dean Wormer said...

Randal: "Well, you two look like some fox-y American girls, who are very attractive and who enjoy having a good swinging time!"

Mary Ellen said...

Holy crap, Randal, this post is awesome! I appreciate the eye candy and all, but how much caffeine have you had today? Stay away from the espresso, kiddo!

I have no excuse to be reading blogs...I'm not working and this is all my free time. No cubicles, no paycheck. I feel no remorse, though, my husband owes me this money for all the crap I put up with. In fact, I think I need a raise. Maybe I'll go shopping with his credit know, boost the economy and all.

Chef Cthulhu said...

As I am the boss here and it is lunch time I don't care what you think of me for reading blogs.

But I'm leaving in 5 minutes anyway to have my first drink of the weekend.

Oh...great post, too,

Randal Graves said...

dean, I'm still angry that Martin had the audacity to steal my outfit.

nunly, though I do enjoy the bean, you should know by now that my brain is usually like this. I just filter the sucker.

If you're going shopping, can I send you a list of DVDs that I want? I want to do my part, too!

chef, hell, by the time I'm typing this, you're probably nice and plastered. How much does an Old One need to imbibe before it struggles to walk down the street?

Utah Savage said...

Me, not Proustian? Fuck you motherfucker.

Randal Graves said...

utah, the lady doth protest too much, methinks. Being Proustian and being Proust are mutually exclusive things.

You are Proustian, as am I, because we often ramble in our output. But Proust was Zeus and Odin and Yahweh and Satan and Jeanne d'Arc and Tristan and Queer Eye for Straight Guy all rolled into one whereas we're only his minions.

susan said...

It's Friday and since I no longer have to appear at my job on Fridays, I'm not being paid for the on-line slacking. Uhh, what's wrong with this picture? Maybe I should go and be creative.. or something.

S.W. Anderson said...

So, what have we learned today?

Our gifted scribe, Randal, is nobody's Mr. Rogers.

It's not a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

The sentiment's more like "Nightmare on Elm Street," as, laughing fiendishly from the bottom of his throat, he sights in his .50-cal paintball sniper rifle on a certain mechanically inclined fellow resident, singing in whispers not "Will you be mine?" but rather, "Your mine, baby; I got you now and you're all mine!"

Then SPLAT! And suddenly, the reviled motorhead has some 'splainin' to do about all that fresh, pink glossy enamel soaking into his jeans in the vicinity of his, uh, tailpipe.

Beach Bum said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Beach Bum said...

...but then I remember that spring break is coming up sooner rather than later...

While I'm stuck here in midlands South Carolina suburban hell unable to drive down to the coast. The coming of spring break does have one thing to look forward to. Brand new "Girls Gone Wild" DVD's.

Randal Graves said...

susan, yeah, what are you doing reading the internets? Go make some art!

SWA, you vicious bastard, I salute you! He does have a giant white pickup. It sure could use a coat of pink.

BB, not to bring politics into images of frolicking beach babes, but just think: Joe Francis will have seen more time behind bars than the architects of BushCo.


Mauigirl said...

I love your brain dumps - they're mind bending! I was kind of like that on Thursday but used the energy for (ugh) real work rather than my blog. I did have a lot of coffee that morning, LOL!

Lisa said...

I'm slacking at home on a Saturday. I'm reminding you to tweet more often. We've covered that other issue. I've learned to zoom so I can read your posts without straining my fucking eyes.

And here I am, yet again, reading your funny posts, being thankful it isn't about sports. Or about Proust. That would be too much like being in school again.

Randal Graves said...

mauigirl, for real work? I don't want to say color me disappointed, but I didn't break out the crayons for nothing.

lisa, I certainly wasn't going to write about the Cavs' obscene lack of defense in the paint, but it's always a good time to post about Proust, for is not life itself, one giant school? How's that for faux profunditizing?

Distributorcap said...

that is what we like about you - always taking a dump

Dr. Zaius said...

I showed your blog to a guy at work, and he didn't get it either. ;o)