10 Signs That Someone is Stalking You


I’ve decided to post a handy list of signs that you might have an admirer that’s slightly more obsessed with you than normal.

 

10 signs that someone is stalking you

 

1 Do you see a similar tree everywhere you go? Does that tree seem to be made out of cloth, with holes for eyes in the trunk? Does it periodically giggles maniacally?

2 Do you always seem to bump into same stranger? Is said stranger wearing a shirt with your picture on it? Is the picture one of you sleeping?

3 Does your ceiling sometimes make strange noises that sound like coughing? Does it sometimes yell out, “Move back a bit! The camera can’t see you?”

4 Have you ever found things missing from your home? Has your television been replaced by a giant painted portrait of the stranger you keep bumping into?

5 Is there a dog in your home that you don’t remember owning? Does it have human hands and a head that looks sort of like a Halloween wolf mask?

6 Do people always point over your shoulder and ask, “Who is that creepy looking dude skulking behind you?”

7 Have you ever woken up to find your hair cut? Do you later find a hair knit sweater in the mail that matches your color?

8 Do you receive numerous voicemails that all sound breathy but menacing? Do these voicemails just repeat the words “Stalky stalky stalky” over and over?

9 Have you found a note that says, “Stalk Me” pinned to the back of your shirt?

10 When you’re out driving, have you ever driven past a giant billboard with a picture of your face and the words, “I am stalking this person” written underneath?

 

If you have experienced all ten of these signs, there’s a good chance that you are being stalked. But I am not an expert, so there could be another explanation. You should ask the scary looking person hiding in your closet what they think.

 

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Blott-Os – The new beer flavored cereal


Remember back when you were a child and you poured sugary cereal into a bowl, as your cavity filled mouth watered in anticipation while your sister tried to murder you with a plastic spork? Well, not the plastic spork thing. That’s a special moment between my sister and myself.

Sugary cereal is a wonderful childhood memory, from carefully picking out the marshmallows from the boring cereal bits, to watching your milk turn brown. And who can forget the prize inside? A plastic toy that was always at the bottom, tempting you to dig your fingers down into the box to try and pry it free. (Strange that I never thought to simply open the box at the opposite end and cut the plastic bag protecting the cereal with scissors. Then again, where would the fun be in that?)

Now, as an adult, I ask you this:

Why should kids have all the fun? Adults need a little bit of breakfast related excitement. And I’m not talking about a quickie on the kitchen counter, though that is pretty entertaining. I’m talking about a breakfast cereal for the young at heart, but made with adults in mind.

So, I’ve come up with a cereal that harkens back to those halcyon days of youth, but with an adult kick. And what do adults turn to when they want to feel that warm glow they used to get from their parents hugs, or the excitement that that once came from cartoons and plastic dinosaurs?

Why alcohol, of course. The only thing that can warm you up and liven your day, plus make peeing in random places around town both a necessity and a challenge. So, with that in mind, I have created a new cereal.

I call them Blott-Os.

Blott-Os

They’re little keg shaped crisps with a beer flavored alcohol saturated syrup in the center. I know, calling them Os is not exactly accurate, but I think that fully encapsulates the essence of alcohol. Booze is so cool, it doesn’t have to make sense.

Each box of Blott-Os will come with a prize inside. For the first prize, I’ve decided on a little rubber man who urinates when you submerge him in water and then squeeze, like a rubber ducky, but less suitable for children.

Imagine, eagerly pouring cereal into your bowl and chowing down, while your milks turns yellow. Then drinking from the bowl as you let the alcohol bring a glow to your day, whether you’re heading off to work or sprawling in front of the TV in your pajamas like you did as a child. Though, try not to wear your pajamas to work, especially if you sleep in the nude. Your boss won’t be pleased.

Now, I just have to find a way to start production of Blott-Os. So far, the only plan I have is a pile of hastily scrawled notes on random napkins from a late night drinking binge. But I’m not worried. That’s how all my ideas take shape.

I have a six pack of beer, an internet recipe for cereal and a squeeze bottle of maple syrup. As soon as I figure a way how to turn those things into tiny kegs, Blott-Os will be good to go. Wish me luck!

What Not to Do at a Funeral


The proper etiquette of attending a funeral can be confusing, so I’ve made a handy list of several things you should avoid doing when honoring a loved one.

What Not to Do at a Funeral

  1. Do not come dressed in sweats, pajamas or any type of bunny suit.
  2. Do not offer to say something about the deceased and then use your time in front of the mic to practice your standup routine.
  3. Do not throw your voice and make it seem like there’s a tiny “Help me, help me,” coming from the casket.
  4. Do not climb onto the casket and reenact Leonardo DiCaprio’s “King of the world” scene from Titanic.
  5. Do not take out your cellphone and play the song “Baby Got Back” because you feel it would be a better soundtrack than the piano they have playing.
  6. Do not eat your lunch during the service, then toss your trash in the casket, even if the deceased was really passionate about recycling.
  7. Do not attempt to preform your own cremation service with a bottle of brandy and a blowtorch.
  8. Do not toss coins in the hole after the coffin is lowered down. It’s wishing well, not wishing grave.
  9. Do not toss up clay pigeons if there is a 21 gun salute.
  10. Do not open the casket, pull the body out and attempt to use it like a ventriloquist dummy.

Of course, I am exempt from these, since I can and have pulled off all of the things on this list. But it takes a certain type of charisma to buck social trends, which is why I recommend that most people play it safe when it comes to serious life events such as funerals.

How to Take a Vacation in Your Bathroom


If you’re like me, you want to make your vacation time unique and memorable, but still have it retain the traditional joys that make vacations so much fun. So, I’ve developed the best way to fit your dream vacation into the most unlikely of places –

Your bathroom.

How to create a bathroom vacation:

The bathtub

A bathtub can be used as a pool, both cold and heated. With a pair of swim trunks (or swimsuit) and a pair of floaties, you can feel like you’re floating in a world class pool, as long as you keep your eyes closed and pretend the sides of the bath are other swimmers crowding around, or a harem of the opposite sex cradling you in some strange polygamous marriage ceremony.

Once drained, the tub becomes your bed, but a futuristic pod bed that will allow you to drift off to sleep with visions of being cryogenically frozen and thawed thousands of years into the future.

The sink

The sink is your water supply and the cabinets underneath make a great mini-bar, once cleaned of anything that might contaminate food products, like cleaning supplies and rat poison. You can use the basin as a makeshift bowl, freeing up precious space that is otherwise lacking in many bathrooms. Since it’s a sink, your bowl becomes self cleaning, draining the remnants of your food down the drain, where it may end up causing a clog, but probably not until after your vacation.

If you put in the plug, the sink is perfect for a miniature fountain, or bird bath, but be sure to use plastic birds to decorate it. I once brought in live pigeons and lets just say that frantic pigeons clawing at your face and a thick layer of bird-poop is enough to ruin even the nicest vacation.

The toilet

Most people wouldn’t see their toilet as a suitable vacation prop, but I am not most people. While it is invaluable in its normal capacity of collecting waste and vomit from late nights indulging in vodka from your sink mini-bar, it also makes a perfect whirlpool. Just make sure you clean it thoroughly after it’s more mundane uses.

All you have to do is stick one foot inside the toilet bowl and flush. Then close your eyes and imagine you’ve been granted access to the world’s smallest hot tub. The hot part may take a little work, but I’ve found heat packs duct taped to the inside of the bowl work wonders.

You can also pour a little shampoo inside and use the toilet to give yourself the most luxurious and unique hair wash you’ve ever experienced. It’s like a scalp massage and dipping your head in a clear mountain stream. You can also use the same technique to wash your face, but you’ll have to make sure you hold your breath.

See, your bathroom isn’t just for personal hygiene and drunken one night stands. It can be an adventure, as long as you don’t mind a small space and a little toilet water. The next time you want to go on vacation, go bathrooming. You won’t regret it.

Think Your Holiday Traditions Are Odd? Think Again.


I promised a peek into my family’s holiday traditions and here it is. This is from last year’s Christmas.

Christmas is a wild time for the Johnson clan. We all try to outdo each other in decorating and gift giving, while pulling off our annual Christmas pranks and waiting for Uncle Frank’s super Christmas party. It is always on a random date that would be revealed to the family through coded greeting cards.

The first thing I had to do to get ready for the holidays was decorate. And I don’t mean the watered down decorations that the rest of the town put up. We Johnsons always like to mix it up. Why have a Christmas tree when you could have a Christmas cactus or a tree made out of old yogurt containers? And why use wreathes, when laminated pickles glue together so nicely? This year, I was going to go all out. So, I searched high and low for a tree-like item, eventually settling on a ten foot scratching post from a local pet store. It took some maneuvering to get it into my living room, but Candy managed just fine. Aſterward, we strung it up with beer shaped Christmas lights and strings of onion and garlic, which gave the house a unique and non-boring scent for the holidays.

Then we hung mothballs from the ceiling with tinsel and painted the windows with drunken Santas. The final touch was the scene on my front lawn. It was a winter wonderland with neon pink snow and a solider Santa and his well-armed elves battling it out with a zombie Frosty and his undead horde of miniature snowmen. Right smack in the middle was a nativity scene with cardboard cutouts of characters from the Terminator movies, with a tiny Arnold as the baby Jesus. Now that we had the decorating done, it was time shop for presents.

We didn’t bother with ties or sweaters in our family. The more unique the better. This year I was doing most of my shopping at a junkyard. Junkyards are the perfect place to find gifts that no one expects, or haven’t gotten a million times before. Candy came along and we set out to find the perfect gifts. My mother was the easiest to get a present for, since she loved gun racks and lots of junkyard items could be turned into one. I found a lovely Ford fender that fit the bill perfectly. My father was a little more difficult to shop for, since he mostly liked booze. And liquor was a little hard to come by in a pile of old junk. But I found enough parts to make a still, which was a gift that would keep on giving. My sister got a pile of broken forks that looked like abstract art and I found a bat skeleton that would be perfect for Uncle Frank’s collection. The rest of my family got old stuffed animals I painted to look like vampires (I got these from a trash dump), except for Grandma Mavis, who got an old motorcycle she could rebuild. And when Candy wasn’t looking, I managed to grab a bunch of old hats from a wrecked Ford Focus for her chicken fetus jars to wear.

Finally, it was time for the annual Johnson family prank off. Everyone placed their name in a hat during Uncle Frank’s Christmas party and the one who ended up picked was the person who would get pranked by the whole family the following year. And so the prankee didn’t feel left out, they also pulled a prank on themselves. This year, it was my father’s turn. And he wouldn’t know what hit him.

I’d spent years doing small jokes, all while planning the perfect prank and waiting for the year it would be complete. That year was now. No one had ever attempted a prank of this magnitude before. First, I replaced my father’s card from Uncle Frank with one I’d written, with a code that told him the party had been moved to a warehouse on the other end of town. Boy was I lucky to know Candy, so I didn’t have to go searching for a warehouse to buy (there were never any for sale,) which was the reason I couldn’t do the prank the previous years. We set her warehouse up like an abandoned amusement park, complete with broken down rides and a freaky looking funhouse facade.

As soon as my father walked into the warehouse, some clowns I hired chased him through the funhouse door, which led to a small white enclosure filled with alien technology props I borrowed from a film student. The enclosure’s door shut and the whole room started to shake and move, which was really some of my friends pulling onto a flatbed truck, but the recorded UFO takeoff sounds made my father think otherwise. They drove the enclosure (which was actually a refurbished porta-potty) to Uncle Frank’s place, where the real party was underway, and pulled it into a room I had paid Uncle Frank to decorate like an alien lab. Everyone gathered around in the alien costumes I had passed out and waited as Candy opened the door to the enclosure to let my father out. Then we all rushed towards him, making clicking sounds, and laughed as he ran screaming out of the room and straight into the party. He stared at the festive decorations, then back at us and our now unmasked faces. After a few seconds, he started to clap. “That was the best prank ever!”

Christmas was good this year.

Donny Dead – A Cautionary Tale for Children Everywhere


I’ve decided to write and illustrate a small children’s book about the dangers kids might face in the world. It’s called:

Donny Dead – A Cautionary Tale for Children Everywhere

 

This is Donny Dead.

This is Donny Dead bleeding into the ocean while being surrounded by sharks.

This is Donny Dead playing with a guillotine.

This is Donny Dead sticking his head in a blender.

This is Donny Dead being eaten alive by fire ants.

The End.

Directional Rights – Moving Forward


“There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to stand up for what’s right.”

I’ve heard that so often, but it seems a little sad. We stand up for what’s right, but not what’s left or what’s backwards, or what’s upside down. Why should one direction be put above all others? If behind ended up being bullied by front and center, I bet it would want us to stand up for it. And what happens if right’s the one doing the bullying? Should it get a free pass to torment inside for being a hermit?

I say we stand up for whatever direction needs our protection, no matter if it’s forwards, backwards, side or front. We’ve spent too long only standing up for right, that I feel we’ve lost the actual meaning behind directional heroics. It isn’t about backing front or turning back around anymore. We’ve just going through the paces, circling around until we don’t know our behind from our ahead.

And we’ve put right up on a pedestal, like some sort of celebrity. Right is put in a position no other direction can ever achieve. There’s the right way to do things, might is right, giving people the right away… This list goes on and on. And it isn’t just directions that are affected by right’s magical status. Just look at poor wrong. It can’t ever catch a break, because even if it tries to break the confines of society, we tell it that “two wrongs don’t make a right,” essentially crushing its dreams and informing it we will never see it as anything even remotely compared to the mighty right.

Now’s the time to stop this right worship and give other directions the privileges and respect they deserve. So, go out there and let left, back, forward and all the others know that you love them, need them and will do whatever you can to make sure they can live their lives without fear of the directionally challenged. The change in direction starts with you.

Pickup Lines That Don’t Work For Some Reason


I’ve used a lot of pickup lines in my day. Here are some that didn’t quite work for some reason. I don’t know why, but I feel I have a duty to alert the public to these potential duds.

  • Let me be the sperm to your whale
  • Hey baby, I think I dropped my contact down your dress. Mind if I search for it?
  • Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable? Like me?
  • How much for one night?
  • Are those two tumors on your chest or do you just have a really nice rack?
  • I seem to be stuck on this table. Could you please come get me off?
  • It’s like you smeared the blood of angels in your hair.
  • I’m dying of Notgetlaidistus and you’re the only one who can cure me.
  • You remind me of my mother.
  • Excuse me, but I’m starting a game of nude tango and need another player.
  • If you were a beer, I’d drain you dry.
  • If you were a sandwich, I’d split you open and pick out all your cheese.
  • I’m your ice cream, baby. Take me in your hands and let me melt.
  • I don’t usually date old chicks, but I’m willing to make an exception.
  • Would you be willing to lower your standards for just one night?
  • Let’s cut to the chase and do it.