In other news: It was a very rough 4th quarter, leaving me with little to no free time for the better things in life; i.e. AbsoHilare.com. Lucky for me, it seems as if things have calmed down, thus freeing up more space in my mind to think of random things hilare in nature. 

Not many chuckles over here today, very drab Monday in the office…WAIT! I take that back, I did see some some wild shit on my way in this morning, nothing big though. 

I’m on the 7 train, and it is packed (as always) and everyone is basically throwing themself into the person infront of them to try to get to work on time. It’s always disasterous. So after the door closes I find myself entirely too close to this other person on the train, wearing the most festive hat. In wondering who designed this awful piece, i take a closer look. It is then and there i became very confused. In a dream world I would have tapped this man on his shoulder and said, “Sir, it isn’t that cold this morning, nor will it EVER be cold enough for you to leave your house, as the grown man you are, wearing a Baby Phat hat, jackass.” I just couldn’t believe it, this grown effin man wearing Baby Phat to work, it is for WOMEN! Assclown. 

Also, (blatantly continuing my rant for no reason) it has been quite some time since I forgot my cell phone at home. Today I learned the hard way that it just is not the way to go. I mean, I am doing pretty well without it, I think. My main problem is the fact that I continually make myself look like an arse. How? Oh, easy. When you are walking around the office and you (continually) slap your hip in hopes of retrieving your phone from it’s case, only for your hand to meet with the leather of your belt time and time again. It only makes it worse. Just be good to yourself and don’t forget your phone. Thanks. 

Happy New Year? Yes!

Happy AH Day?! hmm, any takers? 

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There are actually a few things going on here. 

1) Plaxico, how do you take a gun to the club and end up shooting yourself. Did you not know that you had a gun? Did you not know that the gun was loaded? If you’re that stupid, chances are you shouldn’t be near a fork, much less a gun.

2) He’s pleading not guilty to gun possession. Did you get that? NOT GUILTY. How do you shoot yourself and then plead not guilty to gun possession? So what exactly are you claming happened here?

3) I’m all about gun laws. (I’m not sure what I meant by that either, but let’s just keep it moving.) However, if a man shoots himself in the leg, I think he’s already received his punishment. Three and a half years seems a bit much to me. However, if he sticks with this not guilty nonsense…

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I’m guessing you’re wondering what the title of this post could lead to.  Well, while it’s amusing to tell and see people’s reactions, it wasn’t so much what I would call “fun” when it happened.  It was a blustery fall morning (lie, I don’t know what the weather was like that day) and my friend popped up on Gmail and straight out the gate says, “Have you ever posed nude for pictures?” 

Wh-wh-whaaaaat? 

No. 

I answer with a firm, all-caps NO.  But then (THEN!) he tries to just leave it at that and change the subject.  Sorry, bud, not getting away that easy.  I inquire as to why he would ask such a question and he proceeds to tell me that him and some buddies were perusing some p0rn sites that weekend and had stumbled across a picture of me.

OK.  WAIT.

Excuse me?  I do not pose in such ways, my friend.  You MUST be mistaken.  Finally, he’s like, “Alright, but it looks JUST like you.”  (A. Who does that?  Ha!  Got a funny joke!  Found naked pictures of you online!! SIKE!!!!  B.  Not cool, man.  NOT.  COOL.)  And you know when people say that you’re like, “Sure, sure… whatev.”  I mean, I was once told that I looked JUST like Jennifer Aniston (and I didn’t have a stitch of makeup on and I had just come from a sauna so I was all greasy.)  In no way, shape, or form do I resemble Miss Aniston.  I mean, really.  Not at all.

I immediately call up my friend, who’s husband was with the guy who saw the picture (who ate the cat, that ate the rat, that ate the fly… You guys remember that book?  No?  Nothing?  Okaaaay… NEVERMIND.)  I blurt out this current development on my one-way (yet unknown) track to a life of p0rn which would eventually lead to a life of me being addicted to coke before I moved onto other drugs and then eventually I would be all Courtney Love in “The People VS. Larry Flint” and NO!  I WILL NOT GO OUT THIS WAY!!!  I’m practically holding back tears.  Her response?  To start laughing.  Hard.  I do not think this is funny.  After she calms herself down she sends me the picture and says, “Now, before you open it, I’m not going to lie.  I REALLY had to look at it to make sure it wasn’t you.  But then I saw the date when the picture was taken and you would have JUST had your daughter and well, you know.”  (Translation:  Weeks after giving birth you still looked a bit of a fat ass and well, in no way could qualify for p0rn.)

I open the email.

OH. MY. HEAVENS.

It’s me.

In my head, I’m frantically trying to remember if on one of my more of my poor unfortunate nights I had gotten drunk and made a (TERRIBLY!)  (HORRIBLY!) bad decision as I’m sometimes wont to do under the influence of alcohol.  I even consider the possibility that I had been roofied and had somehow been convinced that this would be a good idea.  No way.  I may have a stiff drink every now and then but never am I THAT out of control… Or AM I?

I study the picture.  I zoom in and out… I consider photoshop… I consider everything.  And then I see she has a small bump on her nose and breathe a HUGE sigh of relief.  It’s not me.  BUT HOLY SHIT.  It is my twin.  It is my effing evil identical twin who has chosen a life of p0rn.  Way to keep up the family name, sis. 

There is no other explanation.  Well, we could always go with the sci-fi cloning route but that would take me days to come up with legitimate reasons as to why that was the answer so we’re going with evil twin.  Of the naked variety.

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Now, I’ve used an alarm or two in my day but NEVER in my life have I ever heard an alarm this fidiculous (fuckin ridiculous, use it if you want, its cool). Safe to say I get off the train at one of the safest neighborhoods in Queens, with some nice sized homes. Apparently the well-off owner of this home was a damn fool, don’t believe me? Read on.

So I see the little (useless) neighborhood patrol car (armed and ready with the latest flashlight and nextel) outside of this home  flashing his yellow lights. As I walk closer to scene of this potential break in I happen to hear the warning message some jackass programmed to go off when someone breaks into their home! The robotic voiced monotonous message went as follows:

“You have illegally entered a home protected by a security system; so…Run for it! Run for it! Run for it! It said that shit about a dozen times! The effed up part about it is if I was the thief (not that this would ever be the case, ever) I would clearly be caught red handed, on the floor even, in tears–from laughter! I could’nt escape with shit hearing an alarm system telling me to “run for it”. Home owner, you win! Happy Friday & Long live AH!

*Ultra Important Announcement: (*cue drom roll……) We have a new member of the AH team, W. Itty! She will join forces along with myself, V. Clev & M. Randy in ensuring that hilarity lives on. To W. Itty, Cheers! 

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I’m on my way home from work. Where’s work? It’s downtown DC next to a bunch of international organizations and blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

Anyway, I’m on my way home from work (I’ve never said this before, lie? ). I just happen to pass this man that’s begging, normal occurrence in DC. But, this wasn’t your ordinary bum beggar, no no no. Forget the usual, “anybody have any change.” You weren’t going to get, “Can you help me get something to eat,” from this guy. Not even an, “I need a bed.” (I’ve been asked for a bed before, they have really high hopes)

This clever man’s schtick was, “Anybody got a euro, I just need one euro, any spare euro.”

Sir, are you really begging for foreign currency? Even so, if you got the “one euro” you really needed so bad, what next? At some point I think it would behoov my bummy bretheren to beg for some US bucks, perhaps?

Give us your take. Until next time, take care.

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Moving along, the first time someone hit me with a Chinese menu I was befuddled. A trillion options, how could they possibly have all these things available all the time?

Now, I would say think outside the box next time you take a trip or place an order from your favorite Asian eatery but you don’t have to, it’s clear as day! Chinese food is a hoax, all smoke and mirrors, WOOL!

So here is my beef (puns welcome), let’s narrow it down and say you’d like some chicken for lunch today, sounds fair? Good, chicken it is. Now, lets look into your lunch special options, wait, you may see about 6-8 “different” chicken options but in all reality its probably about TWO real choices and the rest of them are the same two just with different vegetable decorations.  Don’t believe me? Go pick up the closest menu and tell me what you see. Chicken with broccoli, chicken in garlic sauce, chicken in black bean sauce, schezuan chicken, chicken with curry sauce, chicken with eggplant…and so on and so forth.

Its all the same shit! Listen, take my advice, mix it up. I caught onto this trickery by ordering what I thought to be two completely different exquisite meals…little did I know it was just like the other one but with water chestnuts. PMO!

Listen here local China man, stop fooling people, this “diverse menu” trickery has to come to an end. Everything is all the same with different veggies…the jig is up!

ENJOY the Holdiay weekend, I will be having an Usain Bolt party for sure. Oh, and before i go, effnbc!

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I walked around the store, picked up my shat (whatever these items were) and firmly planted myself in the express lane.

OK great, I think to myself. Only two people in front of me. I should be out of here in less than no time.

But, no no no (like Destiny’s Child? Boo? *scurries off.) Why is it that the express lines always takes the longest. I’ll tell you why, it’s because of jackasses like these:

Guy at the checkout: This guy is at the checkout with 30 bags of ice and 10 styrofoam cups. 30 BAGS OF ICE. Why would you ever need that much ice and so few cups? This actually wasn’t all his fault. This hold up was caused because the cashier, for 5 solid minutes, contemplated how she was going to ring each bag up seperately. PMO.

Guy directly in front of me: So after the ice fiasco is complete, I think once again, great. This guy in front of me only has 12 eggs, 1 dozen, 1 measly carton of eggs. This HAS to be quick.

Carton whizzes by on the conveyor belt. $2.99 flashes on the screen. Cashier asks for payment. Then this man does the UNTHINKABLE, he…he…he…whips out a checkbook. OH NO SIR. OH NO. Are you really planning on writing a check for these $2.99 eggs. PMTFO. And why…why why why, didn’t you start filling this out as we were waiting on the ice moron.

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This lady, right here, is simply out of control.

Ridiculous party of one…ridiculous, party of one. Your table is ready. *80 year old stripper takes seat at one person table.

If this story wasn’t from CNN, I immediately would have thought it was wool. If you chose not to read the above link please see this lil’ snippet I snagged so you could see the slackness the 80 year old stripper said:

“No, no. I’m not ready to hang up my G-string, yet. I’ve got too many fans that would be disappointed.”

*puke.

YOU ARE 80 YEARS OLD LADY! PMO! I’m surprised that g-string doesn’t draw blood betwixt those sandy pancake flat cheeks! I’m certain she’s a fibber. She has too many fans? At 80 I doubt she can even see well enough to know how many people come to the show. I’m certain her hearing is low also, I would even go as far as to say they have to play the music for her set extra loud, hehe. Not nice? Ah well. Tough break.

If I paid to get into a strip club, bought a drink, and then saw you step on stage…there’s a 90 percent chance I’d chug the drink and then take myself outta my misery with said glass. Oh, by doing that I mean throwing it directly at her, ice and all.

But think deeper, just think of little Timmy back home with his mommy. Christmas dinner comes around, the whole family is there…but Timmy wants to know where is Grandma. Timmy she is at work, NAKED! Your 80 year old grandmother who always came to see you in the morning (and only then) and pinched your little red (and now probably infected) cheeks pilfers her wrinkled skin for a living. Merry Christmas Timmy, Merry Christmas.

If old people keep on acting a fool, I will keep posting it. Move along now, nothing else to see here. Lie, plenty more to see, comment and click away.

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Now, I know I haven’t posted one of these in a while but I didn’t want to mess a good thing up and just post for the sake of posting. So I waited, and waited, and today my eyes landed on this comedic GEM; only fitting for the 10th installment of the Subway Chronicles.

So here I am heading home with head held high after a very productive day. I’m firing away at brickbreaker trying to beat my high score (10550, ha!) while leaning against the train door (I didn’t mean to rhyme, i swear.) Very packed train, folks are filing out little by little stop by stop. Now for the folks that don’t know, 71st and Continental is a very popular stop on the F train, apparently this innocent sweet-heart of an old lady wasn’t fortunate enough to have stumbled upon this post a day earlier.

At this stop a drove of people scurry to exit the train (even forcing me to put my brickbreaker attempts on hold, pmo.) This causes some serious hustle and bustle that the old lady in the back of the line just seemed to NOT realize. “Granny Loss” (as she will be referred to) was the last one to exit the train with both hands filled with the most up to date goodies from the supermarket.

She CAREFULLY peeked out to check the gap between the train car and the platform and JUST LIKE that WHOOOSH! The doors came closing RIGHT on Granny Loss’ shoulders with her head sticking out the other side of the train! At first I could not believe, then, i just could NOT stop laughing, I could NOT contain my chuckle, I couldn’t. Bags fell to the floor and all! I wish you have my view, as I was standing by said door I could see the the part of her that was still on board, and the other half STUCK outside. She was fine though, luckily. I thought she was a goner. (jk! Maybe, perhaps…mayhaps)

When I finally took a seat, I was still laughing while doing the standard peer around the train to see who else was grinning. Bad idea, caught eyes with another female citizen and it was like Medusa with grey hair! I was petrified. RIGHT BACK to brickbreaker, never looked up again until it was my stop. *Phew.

P.S. (Random but funny) One lady comes over to another at my place of employment and says:

Lady 1: Nice wallpaper, but what’s up with the chickens?

Chicken Lady: Oh, i just like them, my family has a farm so we have a whole bunch of chickens back home.

Lady 2: Ohh, I see, I always wondered…

Chicken Lady: Yupp, why? do you think it’s weird?

Lady 1: Oh no, I’m used to that stuff, I had two cocks back home. (*walks off…)

***PAUSE***

EXCUSE ME LADY? Please, Just please clear up those statements before you issue them publicly. THANKS!

(Clev and Randy you are a good set of folks, plenty thanks. Long Live AH!)

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******************

The staff here is playing their annual softball game on July 25th and its all the rage. People are picking teams, there are t-shirts and even a draft! The crazies are even going to have practices.

Well, I have decided that I don’t want to play…honestly I am looking for another job and hope to not be here when July 25 rolls around. Plus, its going to be HOT!

I was walking in from lunch and this lady catches me in the hall and that convo went something like this:

Lady: Hi
Me: Hi
Lady: Are you playing in the softball game
Me: Nope
Lady: Why not?!? (looking distressed)
Me: Cause I don’t want to (straight to the point I was)
Lady: oh

After this conversation I left her in the hall and walked back to my desk. I was happy that I put my foot down and gave no excuses. To my dismay, about 35 min later Lady shows up and peeks over my cube.

Lady: Hi
Me: Hey
Lady: Well, since you’re not playing in the softball game do you want to be our mascot? (mind you she says this like she is saving me!)
Me: No
Lady: (silent, just looking at me disappointed)
Me: I’m sorry, I just don’t want to
Lady: OK
Me: I realize I’m being a little anti-social
Lady: I know, why is that?
(I shrug my shoulders to her question)
Me: What is the mascot anyways
Lady: Clifford the Big Red Dog

***PAUSE***

Let’s take a moment here to enter my head to take a look at my thoughts

WHAT? YOU DUMBASS!! WHY WOULD I WANT TO GET INTO A BIG RED DOG SUIT IN THE END OF JULY ON A BASEBALL FIELD!!?? HOW DOES THAT MAKE SENSE??

The worst is she looked at me like 1) i didn’t know what i was missing and 2) i am just not a team player. Mind you, she asked me to be the mascot and just so happened to leave out what the mascot will be. CLIFFORD THE BIG RED DOG? Is this wild to only me?!

*****PLAY****

Me: WHAT? That’s crazy, do you know how hot it will be in there?
Lady: I know
Me: (Silent, looking at her like she is crazy-because she is)
Lady; Well do you know anyone else that would want to do it
Me: No, can’t say that I do.
Lady: OK well thanks anyways, Maybe I’ll pay my niece 20 bucks to do it

************

I just can’t imagine what goes through people’s heads. Just really grinds my gears, ya know?

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