“Florida”

Florida, the state of false advertising and low IQs, if it was a celebrity it would be Anna Nicole Smith…the alive version of course.

Palm trees, beautiful beaches and gorgeous women in bikinis, only in postcards, because it’s more like horrible drivers, die-hard Republican rednecks and fat people fighting over the last piece of chicken fried steak on the buffet.

Florida is so bad that the South won’t even claim it, they were for slavery back in the day, even willing to go to war over it, but when it comes to laying claim to the state they want no part of it.

I could totally see the rest of the country wearing a T-shirt which reads, “We’re with Stupid” with an arrow pointing down to Florida.

The only thing smaller than IQs down here is the amount of teeth these hillbilly bitches have in their mouth, thinking about it, too bad their IQs don’t match their waist size, because if it did this would be a state full of geniuses.

Most people don’t know this, but Florida is actually an acronym, it stands for “Fat Lazy Opinionated Redneck Ignorant Dumb Asses”, and trust me if you’ve ever lived here you would know this to be the truth.

The people are all dicks down here, which I guess is fitting, considering that the state itself looks like a giant dick.

The weather is so freaking hot down here, on most days it feels as if you’re nestled nicely in Satan’s ass crack, and on other days, it’s so hot it feels as if your skin is melting right off the bone, you’re walking around looking like the Toxic Avenger.

There are also more frivolous lawsuits down here than any other place I’ve ever been to; it’s almost as if it’s a sport, a crazy competition to rack up the most dough by suing the as many people as possible…let’s make a deal scammers edition.

The people, the laws and the politics all run backwards down here, it is as if someone is constantly pressing the rewind button on the remote, making it feel as if we’re stuck in some insane time warp that won’t let us move past the prehistoric times.

The people down here also have their own language, it is like nothing I have ever heard before, and honestly hurts my ears (and head) just listening to it, kind of sounds like a cross between Corky (Life Goes On) and Mushmouth (Fat Albert) with a Southern twang.

There’s more crazy old people down here than at Denny’s during the early bird special, all jacked up on caffeine and as senile as ever, and lucky us, they all have a license to drive.

Who knows maybe I’m being too hard on Florida, but being down here makes me feel as if I’m in some sort of commonsense coma with my only life-support system being a mouse on exercise wheel, and the mouse just happens to be Pinky (Pinky and the Brain).

I know what you’re thinking, if it’s really all that bad why don’t I just move, well honestly I’m too lazy and the overall cost of living isn’t really all that bad down here.

So there you have it, why Florida sucks ass and why I’m choosing to stay down here and embrace the misery.

MJM

"Indie Chick’s 2014 Badass Blog Awards Nomination"

Guess who’s nominated in the “Most Likely to Piss People Off Blog” category over at the Indie Chick’s 2014 Badass Blog Awards?

So come on over and show me some love.

Let people know that it’s okay to think outside the box, that it’s okay to go against the grain and that it’s okay to let your freak flag fly high and proud.

There’s no need to be embarrassed and/or lazy, just follow the link below and vote for the Insane Asylum, no one will ever know and I promise you won’t even break a sweat.

The Indie Chick's 2014 Badass Blog Awards

Remember, every time you vote for me an angel get its wings, or a devil its horns if you so prefer.

Voting is only open until May 30th, 8:00 pm EST, so get a move on people, and tell all your friends…and enemies; this is no time to be sensitive.

MJM

“Working the Pole”

I need a way to make some extra money, preferably something legal because I don’t want to end up in jail as someone’s bitch.

I thought about hitting the pole and trying my hand at being a stripper, but then I thought who would want to see a chunky white guy in Daisy Dukes dry humping the air and smacking an imaginary ass in the process.

Not only that but I’m extremely white, and we all know what “they” say about us crackers, and no I’m not talking about the tiny pee pee thing, because that couldn't be any more of a fallacy…am I right white people **nervously looks around**.

I’m referring to the whole no rhythm thing, which in my case is totally true; I can’t even walk down the hallway without bumping into a wall or two along the way.

I would come to the stage to some sleazy tongue-in-cheek rock song, sporting a name like White Chocolate or Third Leg Greg, something to get the chicks (and the genetically enhance straight men aka the gays) all hot and bothered.

Tassels hanging from my nipples as if I was a fancy chandelier, and gyrating my body as if I was in a spin cycle to make them swing like a windmill, and most likely smacking myself in the eye with them due to my awkward demeanor.

This in turn would leave me stumbling to the pole as if I was Helen Keller, the whole time hoping for a miracle worker, but instead ending up with a performance that was best suited for “America’s Funniest Videos” rather than a strip club.

Then that is where the fantasy would end, I would go to jump on the pole, wrapping my legs on top trying to be all sexy, only to slide down it landing flat on my back.

I would have fallen and not been able to get “it” up **huh huh**, actually that’s not funny, because I would have a hurt back and no dollar bills in my G-string to show for it.

Due of my “big bones”, and loads of body glitter, I would end up looking like a disco ball rolling around the stage crying out in pain, and who in their right minds wants that.

I also don’t know if one could collect workers' comp for falling off of a stripper pole, so why risk it.

So obviously stripping is not in my future, not unless people want to see some fat naked white guy sitting on a chair bobbing his head and tapping his foot to the music while slowly shedding his clothing as if he was a snake shedding its skin.

MJM

“Nigger”

The dreaded “N-word” the only ethnic slur that is so powerful and potent that people avoid speaking its name, as if the mere mention of it would bring upon pure hatred and ultimate evil amongst the masses.

A word that is not like any other, it is a true double-edged sword, when spoken by a select few under certain circumstances it could be considered a term of endearment, a sign of camaraderie, but when spoken out of anger it becomes a dagger that pierces the heart of the intended target and makes him/her feel less of a person.

The phrase, “Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt  me” obviously does not hold true, at least not when it comes to this word and the pain it could cause when used by ignorant hate-filled people.

The word is muttered behind closed doors, where people feel safe from any repercussions and/or retaliation as a result of doing so, in a sense they feel as if they are breaking some kind of unwritten law when it crosses their lips. 

Now I don’t personally think that everyone who uses this word is a racist.

Sometimes, I think that people don’t realize how horrific this word is and what it could do in the wrong hands, they just do so without thinking and/or concern with who they may hurt in the process.

I’m white, so white that I’m almost transparent, so I can’t pretend to understand the magnitude of devastation this word has caused over the years, all the people it has hurt and why it holds the power it does.

To me, it is nothing more than hateful garbage that has no purpose in our world, completely meaningless and totally insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

But then again, as I said prior, I am white and never had to feel the sting of such a word.

I won’t sit here and tell you I’ve never used the word because that would be a lie, but I will do my best to avoid using it at any and all costs in the future, because it is not something that should be taken lightly, regardless of which ethnicity you are.

But I can honestly tell you I’ve never used it in a hateful manner, only in a mindless joking kind of way, which by the way does not make it any better but I’m just being truthful here.

The bottom line is this, we as whites don’t understand just how deep this word cuts, the damage it has done and will do moving forward, and so as with all forms of hate speech we need to remove it from our vocabulary and let it die the death it deserves.

MJM

“Assology”

[as-ol-uh-jee]

Noun

The study of all things ass

Kiss Ass - this one is obvious, these people walk around with their lips permanently glued to another’s ass, most of the time it is the ass of a person they look up to, want to be with and/or want to be, in a strange deranged stalker kind of way.

Tight Ass - I’m not talking about someone who has buns of steel here, but rather someone whose ass is so tight that it squeaks when they walk, they have no sense of humor whatsoever and spend all their time trying to hinder everyone else’s good time.

Wet Ass – After dropping the kids off at the pool, or taking a dump for you less than civilized people, and not wiping properly thus leaving debris in the hole and causing the victim to walk around like he/she just got off of a horse, the end result is shit stains in their underwear and a wicked rash.

Ass Face – When someone is so hideous that their face looks like an ass, and not a nice firm plump ass either, but rather a hairy greasy pimply fat ass, like something you would see peeking out of the pants of a stereotypical plumber or Rosie O' Donnell.

Asshole – When someone is a dick for no apparent reason, they go around causing havoc and making people’s life miserable just because they can, these screwballs actually get pleasure from being a complete tool bag.

Eating Assushi – The eating of an ass, of course not literally because that would be morbid, but using your tongue to lick the puckered brown starfish as if it was a lollipop, chocolate of course.

Asstacular – When an individual has such an amazing ass that you can’t help but to stare, and touch, but be careful with the touching because unless the person is a freak you may end up with sore jewels and/or even in jail time.

Ass Blast – Deliberately shooting gas out of your ass with the hopes of being obnoxious and extremely disgusting all for a good laugh, the whole time trying not to shit yourself in the process, because then the laugh would be on you.

Ass Neck – When someone is so fat that the back of their neck looks like an ass, and depending on the person, it may also smell like one too.

Talking Out Your Ass – When someone says something that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, complete and utterly buffoonery is spewing from their head hole, the shit they are talking stinks more than a nice juicy fart.

Asshat – When someone’s head is so far up their ass it is as if they are wearing it as a hat, these people act like complete idiots and are totally unaware that they are different than us normal people.

Well there you have it people, a whole lot of ass terms that you may or may not have been familiar with. Sure there are more, but being the lazy bastard I am, this is all I had the energy for.

You’re welcome!

MJM

“When I Die”

When I die I want my eulogy to be given by a rapper, preferably someone crazy like Eminem or Lil' Wayne, with backup vocals by Rihanna, that would be sure to get the party started.

When I die I want my coffin to be filled with punch, with me in it, giving a whole new meaning to “spiking the punch”.

When I die I would require people to come to my funeral dressed as their favorite character from The Walking Dead, they could take pictures with my lifeless body as if I was a zombie, and if they so felt the need to complete the illusion they could even stab me in the head.

When I die I want to be buried faced down ass up, that way as they are lowering me into the ground I can tell them all to kiss my ass.

When I die I don't want to be buried like everyone else; I want to be propped up on the front lawn as if I was a scarecrow, with glow sticks glued into my hands so on a windy night I would look to be raving.

When I die I don't want my funeral be a sad and somber place, I want it to be upbeat and loads of fun, instead of pallbearers I want puppeteers who would work my corpse as if I was in Weekend at Bernie's.

When I die I want pictures taken of me in my coffin, throwing up gang signs or deuces, then have the picture put on a postcard all sent to all my enemies with the line, "wish you were here" written on it.

When I die I want to be put into a stew and served to all my loved ones, that way we could be together forever, or at least until they went to the bathroom.

When I die I want an open casket at the viewing, with me being buck naked inside, that way, of course after rigor mortis sets in, all the girls can see exactly what they missed out on.

When I die I want my body to be burnt and my ashes mixed with the finest marijuana money can buy, to be smoked by all my loved ones so that they can experience all my awesomeness even after I’m gone.

When I die I want to be buried in my back yard to see if another one of me would grow, of course it would need to be fertilized with straight crap and lots of alcohol, but if everything works out as planned it would all be worth it in the end.

When I die I want to be buried with a hot dead babe, that way I would never be alone, and if by some crazy chance I did come back as a zombie I would have a built-in friend with benefits, that I could eat afterwards.

When I die I want to come back as a ghost, not one that haunts houses, but rather one that haunts the locker room of a women’s beach volleyball team.

When I die I want my tombstone to come equipped with a built-in HD television, so that way it would give people a reason to stop by and stay for a while, but no porn channels because I wouldn’t want some nasty bitches dropping their seed in my flower bed.

When I die I want a rumor started saying my passing was because I didn’t forward a chain email, really scare the shit out of the stupid people.

When I die I want to be buried in a coffin shaped like a vibrator, because you know, just in case God really is a she.

MJM

“Gangsta Blogging”

The world of blogging is very boring, uneventful and totally lame-o (sorry for the harsh language).

Something needs to be done to change that, we need to spice, and shake, things up…yeah I went there.

We should make it more like the gangsta rap game, but instead of the whole East coast-West coast rivalry, we could do something like mommy bloggers vs. humor bloggers…word.

I would call myself 2 Ply, because I’m white and handle more shit than toilet paper, and I would drop more dope blogs than a drunken waitress with vertigo drops dishes yo.

My gang sign would be one hand over the other, like as if I was playing slaps with myself, forget the bat signal, punks better beware when they see the 2 ply sign go up in the air fool.

We all know the pen is mightier than the sword, it’s an ink filled gat mother fugger, rat-tat-tat-tat tat ta tat like that, and I never hesitate to put a blogger on his back…okay sure we don’t use pens, but you get the picture.

I would start smoking the chronic as if I was Dr. Dre, burning more trees than a forest fire, turn my keyboard into a bong and call it Puff the Magic Dragon because that’s how I roll homie.

I would put hydraulics and spinning rims on my desk chair, this would help me feel more hood like when I laid down my flow, showing all those bitches and bastards just how gangsta I truly am when I spit my blogs.

I would even come up with my own dance, something cool like the Stanky Leg or the Superman, every blogger would be doing it and all the haters would be cursing my name because the wannabes are green with envy.

 

We could use different color fonts to show our allegiance to our respected gangs, or clicks if you want to be all Hollywood, and anyone caught blogging in the wrong color would get dealt with, proper like.

My blogs would be going platinum so fast that all those other bloggers wouldn’t know what hit them; my blog would look like a jewelry store with more bling than Nelly’s grill, while theirs looked like a flea market.

Hoes from every area code would be reading my shit, making my Google AdSense account rain like a monsoon, drinking champagne and eating caviar while you other scrub ass bloggers are drinking a 40oz Olde English and wondering where your next meal was coming from.

I would write the blogging equivalent as such rap masterpieces as “Peanut Butter Jelly Time” from The Buckwheat Boyz or “Because I Got High” from Afroman…I was going to blog but then I got high, now I’m browsing Facebook and liking everything I see and I know why, cause I got high, because I got high, because I got high.

I am going to be the king of the mountain, standing on Mount Rushmore, while all you other freaks are traveling underground like a bunch of angst-ridden mole people.

Deuces, I’m outtie like a belly button, better wear a vest because it’s pop pop like some rolled up bubble wrap up in here, forget ballin’ we straight blogging playa.

Pour some liquor out for my fallen bloggers.

MJM