Revellian

Thoughts and Fiction of Bobby Revell

Archive for category Humor

Quirk

Jun 26

Posted by Bobby Revell in Humor, memes

What exactly is a quirk? It sounds like a grotesque, protruding nodule or growth that requires surgery, “I can’t come into work today, I have a grisly quirk on my tender inner thigh and it’s dripping fluid!”

Mr. Boss says, “Yeech…stay home. Don’t come here and spread that nasty virus…take five weeks if you need it! Powder your leg and don’t wear tight jeans for a few days”

Here’s a photo manipulation (on my Linux box with the Gimp) I did last year of my friend Randy Hover, it’s quite quirky and striking. I did several variations trying to achieve a realistic picture using  the free open source Gimp software (which is a bitch to get used to but is very powerful once you get used to it and are willing to persevere for long sessions to gain the skills needed. I didn’t plan to create a “snakeman” but his face predestinated itself into a lizard like or snake like morph:

The Birdman (has a vicious bite)

The Snakeman (has a vicious bite)

The Snakeman (has a vicious bite)

Actually, a quirk is a weird or unusual habit. I was tagged by my good friend Jean Chia on her post [5] Annoying Things + [8] Habits + [6] Quirks to participate in this meme (I must have been insane when I wrote that ridiculous meme post!) and list six quirks of mine (I didn’t do the entire meme because I’m trying to score high for the “golden fleece” of keywords: quirk. I haven’t participated in a meme in quite a while, mostly because I became burned out on them awhile back. This one sounded like fun and I wanted to share how weird I really am with all of you. I don’t list the rules because if you don’t know how to do a meme, my blog is far too advanced for you – go cut your teeth and come back later.

  1. When someone is sweating and they get that little droplet of sweat hanging off their nose, I lose control – I cannot stand it. The surmounting pressure will build in my mind until I finally snap. I once shot a man because of it. His headless body is dissolving in a bathtub in Hell’s Kitchen.
  2. I floss my teeth several times per day because I cannot stand having anything between them. I carry dental floss, a toothbrush, toothpaste and a bottle of water in my vehicle and at work in case of emergencies.
  3. I get the “piss shivers” when I urinate. Sometimes the twitch is so spastic, I shake the contact lenses off my eyes right into the toilet – $10.00 down the commode. I am told that many men suffer from this affliction…especially while peeing outside on cold nights. Is this too much information?
  4. I don’t like shaking stranger’s hands. Some people find it rude, but that’s how cold and flu germs are passed. If I do shake someone’s hand, I cannot relax until I wash them with anti-bacterial soap and hot water. I like Donald Trump’s “no handshake policy”. The Asian’s have it right with a simple bow. The perfect excuse is to say, “Pardon me if I don’t shake hands, I’m a Buddhist,” and bow politely.
  5. I sleep with the lights on because I don’t want spiders crawling all over my body and face. A good friend of mine was bitten on the eyelid by a brown recluse (be sure to read my brown recluse story). His face rotted off and he lost his left eye. Years later, it’s still a vile open sore, along with being wet and draining pus. His friends call him “the cyclops” and I don’t want to end up like him.
  6. If I drive or walk somewhere, I have to return the exact same way or my psychic cable will get entangled around everything. I was once hospitalized in a mental ward because there was a road block and I had to drive home a different route than I originally came. I never got over it and have nightmares to this day.

Rule: If you do the meme, link the text “quirk” to this post as the anchor text, this will improve my search engine ratings for that highly prized keyword.:mrgreen:

I tag the following people to reveal their six quirks (do it if you want, if not, I really just wanted to give you a link anyway:)

Marzie, Karen, Janice, Robin, Miss Money Penny, Michelle Gartner, Spaced Girl Hero, Etta Rose, Apple

Also, I want to thank Dan – DCR Blogs – for the great comments he left on my previous post How to Steal Blog Content: Ethically (check ‘em out). I learned a lot about copyright laws among other things. I learn something new every day from other bloggers. Dan is very smart and has a great site. You should take the time to meet him and check out his blog!:smile:

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Freakish Jobs: Copa Casino – Worst Employee Ever

Jun 22

Posted by Bobby Revell in horror, Humor, life personal

Maybe I am the worst employee ever, or maybe I’ve had the worst employers known in the history of Earth – you be the judge. I was once employed by the Copa Casino in Gulfport, Mississippi – one of the most freakish jobs I’ve ever had. It was for the most part a great place to work – the money was fantastic and the atmosphere was extremely fun. If you are a long time reader, you know I’ve had some bizarre experiences, which is one reason my horror and fiction stories are so freakish. I just had to share this experience with you all. The Copa Casino was completely destroyed by hurricane Katrina. It was less than 10 miles from my home.

copa casino

copa casino

The Sexual Harassment Incident

This first story occurred on the original Copa, which was an old ship, not the one pictured above. I worked on the original and the new one. I had a manager, who was a creepy overweight guy in his forties and everyone knew his dad was a state senator – he often bragged about it. He often talked the beautiful young cocktail waitresses into playing a game with him called “trust”. It involved the girl falling backwards and “trusting” him to catch them. He had been after this girl, Amber (who was 18 years old and recently had breast enlargement surgery), to play the game with him. I was busy working and the perverted manager (Fred) convinced Amber to play the game. Fred thought I wasn’t paying attention, but I was onto his game. Amber fell backwards and Fred caught her – simultaneously cupping her breasts in his hands and morbidly staring down her top. As she leaned forward, he kept his hands on her breasts, fondling them gently with a sickening look of molestation in his eyes. She turned and slapped him while screaming, “Get your fucking hands off of me you old pervert.”

He replied, “Oh, I’m sorry…it’s just the way you fell.”

Amber was feeling sick about the situation and began crying. I had forewarned her but she didn’t listen. I convinced her to report him for sexual harassment. In a casino, sexual harassment cases happen everyday and most go unpunished. She felt more confident about it because I was a witness. The next day at work, I learned that Amber had quit and no charges had been filed. I am quite sure they took her in a back office and threatened or scared her. Fred told me and I quote, “If you ever say anything about me again, you are finished…and I mean six feet under. I know people who can make you disappear.”

I retorted, “What? You’re threatening my life? The last three people who threatened me ended up dead or paralyzed and I didn’t have to know any ‘people’ – I did it myself,” hey, if you play hardball with me, I up the stakes. The storm blew over after a few weeks. I feel bad I ever said that to him. Read on and see why.

The Sickening Cook Incident

I was on lunch break and ordered a hamburger and fries at the employee cafeteria. I specifically asked for no cheese. I received my meal and noticed cheese on my burger. I asked the cook, a gay black guy named Bobby to to please make me another burger as I didn’t want cheese. I could see into the kitchen – apparently, the cook didn’t know I could see him. He bit the cheese off of my burger (with his saliva drizzling mouth) and spit it into the garbage. My eyes almost popped out of my head in disbelief. He wrapped it back up and brought it to me. I took it to my manager, the perverted Fred, and told him what happened. Even he was disgusted and said he would fire the cook. A little while later he said, “The cook said he would call the NAACP. He said you just don’t like him because he is black. Besides, he said you are lying…sorry dude.”

So the cook kept his job, but I was viewed as the bad employee…again.

The Evil Manager Incident

I was out $5.00 for my oral infected hamburger and was told to shut up or I would be fired. You have to understand that the main boss, another creepy old bastard named Russel, just so happened to despise me. I am quite sure that Russel was responsible for all this but couldn’t prove it.

The first day I ever worked there, the main manager Russel, screamed at me, “Hey boy…yes you! Do this, do that!”

I screamed back at him, “Don’t ever talk to me like that. You will treat me like a person.”

After that day, he hated my guts. I was the only person out of 50 employees in his department that actually screamed back at him, as difficult as that is to believe. Alright. Now to the most unbelievable aspect of all:

The Twilight Zone Occurrences

My days off were Tuesday and Wednesday. I checked my schedule on Monday and stayed home on Tuesday and Wednesday, just like my schedule ordered. I was fired on Thursday because they changed my days off Monday night – after I went home! They said it was my responsibility to recheck the schedule Tuesday morning, before enjoying my normal days off.

  • Two weeks after I was fired, the manager Russel had a stroke and was paralyzed from the waist down. He also suffered severe memory loss and will live the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
  • A year later, the cook who chewed the cheese off my hamburger, was murdered in a crack-deal-gone-bad by gang members.
  • My manager Fred had a massive coronary and is now dying of lung cancer and emphysema.
  • I saw the waitress Amber recently working – of all places – as a waitress serving hamburgers at a Sonic drive thru. She still has a great body and is quite beautiful; however, her teeth are all rotted out and she’s married to a crack dealer. She didn’t remember who I was. She said, “I think I worked at the Copa Casino, but that was back in the day and it’s all just a fog.”

I thought to myself, “Back in the day? Hahahaha….you’re only 22 or so and it happened just a few years ago.” Thank God they fired me from that place before I ended up next on the grim reaper’s list. I often wonder if I had placed an evil curse on them. Nowadays, I try my best to handle things more wisely. The final incident was the casino being destroyed by a hurricane. It’s definitely from the twilight zone.

*The picture is from Hurricane Katrina Damage Photos – Mississippi Gulf Coast. Check out all the incredible pictures by clicking the link.

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Crooked Politicians and the Honor of a Common Thief

Jun 12

Posted by Bobby Revell in Humor, thought

Hey everyone, I was watching the news on CNN earlier – The Glenn Beck Show. Don’t worry if you don’t know who Glenn Beck is, and don’t stop reading because you despise politics with the most soul searing, black hearted hatred a human being could possibly muster; I promise you’ll understand this post. I don’t care what country you’re from, what rock you crawled from under or what multi-trillion dollar penthouse you live in…you will understand.

Glenn Beck is this news anchor/entrepreneur/comedian guy who says he’s looking for answers, you know, the answers to America’s problems: like oil prices, the American dream, education, hunger and so forth. He’s a self-made guy who doesn’t have much college, so I do respect the fact that he did make it. He often interviews Jonah Goldberg, the author of “Liberal Fascism: The Secret History of the American Left, From Mussolini to the Politics of Meaning” as a guest political pundit on his show. I love the philosophical egotism of these guys and often enjoy their discussions.

They were discussing the possible hidden secrecy of back room deals and secret greased palms – often a hot topic among the Internet’s rabid conspiracy theorists. They basically said that there are no “back room” deals and the politicians do everything out in the open – completely transparent. What I want to know is are these guys being paid to say that? Do they actually believe it? Are they insane? It doesn’t take a genius to know just how corrupted and our government is.

Yesterday, congressman Dennis Kucinich introduced 35 articles of impeachment against George W. Bush for a sickening array of crimes against America. The Bush administration actually paid military war experts to say things on every top media news network, among tons of other questionable actions to further their agenda. Will he be impeached? Probably not. The point is, this is just one tiny piece of a gargantuan pie of lies, corruption and deceit.

Every problem going on is caused by a corrupted congress – so far gone – I don’t know if I will ever trust anything they say for the rest of my life. Of course there are billions of back room dollars changing hands, bribing judges and paying for nefarious college educations of children spawned by these crooked scumbags. I don’t buy into every conspiracy theory, and many of them are ridiculous (for all I know, the most ridiculous ones are the only true ones…lol). We the public have the right to rip these people to shreds and leave their political bodies in a burning pile of roasted flesh…disfiguratively speaking. It’s really time for normal citizens to gain the power they could have if they just paid attention. I don’t believe for a second that a new president will improve things. Whoever gets elected had better perform! Every new president has great hopes and dreams – until they get in the White House and Washington changes them. We shall see.

So, now to the climax of my post, ohhhh….uggghhh…ahhhh. Whatever happened to the good old days when people just took your money outright. This may sound insanely deranged and twisted, but there is a certain amount of honor in a criminal just shoving a gun in your face and taking your wallet. There’s a purity and earnestness about a fearless crook pointing a shotgun at a bank teller’s head and saying, “Fill my bag with cash or I will blow your head off.”

Compared to these shady politicians who steal and rob behind closed doors, smelling like fresh spring honey glazed petunias beneath a mask of deception, a simple crook does actually seem honorable

I’ve always loathed the double standard of white collar crime being considered less malevolent or immoral than a common street crime. If an unscrupulous welfare administrator embezzles $100,000.00 from starving school children, it is considered a lesser crime than a bank robbery at gunpoint. What’s the difference? The real difference is that the bank robbers have the balls to go in risking their own lives to get what they want; the spineless namby pamby creme puff embezzler does not. It’s all in which perspective you see it.

It’s much like a political leader who sends men to die in war, while they do not have the bravery to go themselves. This is so much more the case than it was in ancient times. Leaders like Alexander the Great had the brains and the guts to lead his armies on horseback, willing to die first. Compare that to a modern president, who would piss in his pants while facing being blown into pieces. It always bothers me to think about how, while 17 year old boys are being immolated by bombs, the leader who sent them is drinking 100 year old scotch and eating fine cuisine in the lap of luxury – often playing a round of golf or two afterwards – far, far away from the horrendous pain of reality.

I do not condone crime of any kind, this editorial is only meant to give you a unique perspective.

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Lab Grown In Vitro Meat – Hamburger Horror

Jun 5

Posted by Bobby Revell in horror, Humor, Nutrition - Health

I was eating a hamburger earlier, and while crushing the meat fibers with my powerful muscle driven molars, I wondered what the animal’s life was like. Did anyone ever pet the poor beast? Did anyone scratch behind it’s fly attracting ears? Did it have a name? Was it ever loved? I gnawed another bite of animal flesh and a little roasted blood drizzled down my chin…mmm…yummy fluids. A man wearing a funeral-black suit sat in the booth with me on the opposite side – facing me. He said, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Fernando Giovanni McDonnell; half Italian, half Scottish owner of McDonnell Meat Corporation. I saw you enjoying the delicious succulence of our best hamburger – I’m a psychic by the way – I could tell by your expression exactly what you’re thinking.”

“It’s nice to meat you Fernando, I’m Bobby,” I said, choking down another sliver of fried bovine, “So you’re psychic huh? Please…do tell, what am I thinking?”

“You’re wondering about the animal flesh in your mouth. You’re wondering who the animal is,” he pulled a picture out of his inner suit pocket and slammed it down on the table, “Meet Samuel…the beast from which meat was shredded – from his bones – machine strewn, chopped, whipped, blended and digitally fabricated into the scrumptious patty you’re now masticating.”

I picked a hair from between my teeth – flicking it onto Fernando’s suit. He scowled slightly and began laughing, “Haha…I guess we didn’t rinse Samuel’s meat correctly, an occasional hair gets through.”

I replied, “If I do masticate, I do it at home…in private, with the curtains drawn and lights off. Back to the hair, that was no bovine hair. I know bovine hair when I see it. That…Fernando…was a human pubic hair. I know a pubic hair when I see one; nonetheless, please tell me Samuel’s story.”

We both looked at the picture of Samuel – I paid particular attention to the flower in his mouth and happy go lucky look in his eyes. Fernando said, “Masticating means to grind the meat into a swallowable pulp…aka chewing – back to Samuel – well, no one ever loved him. No one ever petted him. No one ever cared about him either. ”

“How freaking heartbreaking,” I said.

Fernando turned towards the kitchen door, yelling, “Anthony, get your ass over here.”

A young guy dressed in blood sodden butcher’s garb walked out with a meat cleaver in his hand. He said, “What? I’m real busy killing killing a baby calf for our veal burgers.”

“Anthony, meet Bobby, he’s eating Samuel.”

“It’s really nice to meet you Bobby,” said Anthony, “I’m the guy who killed Samuel and hacked his body up into it’s respective cuts.”

I took another bite of my hamburger…I mean Samuelburger and asked, “How did you kill him?”

Anthony wickedly smiled, “With a sledgehammer. He didn’t die the first time I hit him,” I took another bite of Samuel, chewing feverishly while Anthony continued, “The first time I hit him, I pulverized his eye socket and blood splattered all over my face…it got all up in my eyes. And dude, that shit burns. You ever got cattle blood in your eyes? Anyway, he groaned in hellish agony…I mean the thing was screaming in pain! He staggered a few steps and tried to run. I used to just cut their heads off on a band saw while standing there alive, but we have an old one and you can’t get blades for it anymore. So I took a machete and chopped one of his legs off. He fell down and went into convulsions. I hit him…must’ve been 30 more times. When I finally finished, his head was beaten flat into the pavement – blood everywhere, buzzards circling above – it was a stomach wrenching nightmare. One of the trainees puked when he saw it…spineless green pea. We actually had to use a forklift to peel his carcass off the hot blacktop – his blood was already starting to cook. We killed him around an hour ago, I’ve been grinding up his meat ever since. Overall, he had a miserable life all jacked up on steroids…and then was ruthlessly beaten to death – heartlessly and without remorse. Hell, I enjoyed killing the stupid thing.”

I took my last bite, and washed it down with a sip of sparkling iced tea, “Ah…that hit the spot. What part of Samuel’s carcass was used to make the hamburger patty I just ate?”

Rolling his eyes, Anthony scratched his chin with bloody fingernails while a sliver of raw flesh dangled from the hairs on the back of his hand, “I’m not really sure, I think it was the left shoulder.”

I looked at Fernando and said, “Samuel was delicious, one of the best burgers I’ve ever tasted; however, I will not pay for my meal, there was a pubic hair on my bun.”

“Hahaha…” Anthony said laughing, “I’m sorry, that’s one of my sister’s pubic hairs…Carnillia, get out here!”

A beautiful red haired woman walked out, giggling, “It’s my pubic hair, I put one on every man’s hamburger…hehe.”

I replied, “Well, in that case…I’ll let it slide. It was quite silky – do you use a conditioner?”

“Yes!” she said, “I use a homemade mixture of Vaseline and jasmine flowers…I hope you enjoyed it. We forgot to change the name on the menu to fur burger.”

I must admit, my visit to McDonnell’s Butcher & Burger Heaven was quite interesting, I may go back tomorrow.

Lab Grown Meat

Have you heard about lab grown meat? Scientists all over the world are working on this concept, and astronauts are being currently fed this petri dish delicacy. When I started writing this post, I was just going to write about lab grown meat, but got carried away and wrote a morbid story instead. I don’t know what happened. I was watching “Pulp Fiction” for the 727th time while writing – listening to Samuel L. Jackson talk about why he didn’t eat pork. Like Samuel (I named my character after the noted actor), I don’t eat pork either. I don’t eat pork, bacon, pork sausage or anything from a pig. Years ago, I met a group of cannibals who were actually part of a tribal musical group, They told me that pork meat tastes exactly like human meat, thus ruining my appetite for pork forever.

Lab grown meat is actually known as in vitro meat, isn’t that appetizing? It all started when cosmetic companies were looking to test their chemicals on flesh other than human. Then animal rights activists got all riled up and forced them to actually grow skin to test their chemicals. See the chart below (I downloaded this picture six months ago, but cannot find the site I got it from – I’ll happily give credit if I can find the original site, the author is apparently a guy named John Lawson):

lab grown meat

lab grown meat

Isn’t that strange? Did you know that the chemical laden skin moisturizing sunscreen you’re currently spackling on your body was tested on actual human flesh grown in a petri dish? It should give you comfort that a poor animal wasn’t used. For actual in vitro meat, check out the chart below:

in vitro meat

in vitro meat

Here are the steps: 1. Scaffold-based cultured meat production: 1. Myoblasts in petri dish; 2. Porous collagen microspheres; 3. Myoblasts form myotubes on collagen microspheres; 4. Bioreactor; 5. Microwave; 6. Hamburger.

Eventually, entire muscles will be grown in labs – like a sheep’s buttocks muscle in an incubator with clear plastic blood vessels hanging out of it – blood pumped into it by a Jarvik artificial heart. Sounds grotesque? Well, it couldn’t be more grisly than eating an animal who was beaten to death with a hammer. Now enjoy your steak and pass the ketchup.

*The laboratory hamburger picture and text below it is from Would You Like to Eat ‘Cultured’ Meat? (originally from the University of Maryland) – a fantastic article by Roland Piquepaille. Make sure you read it…it’s fascinating.

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The Insanity of Stereotypes, Labels and Generalizations

Apr 29

Posted by Bobby Revell in Humor, racism, thought

I was filling out a job application and couldn’t help but feel violated because of the detailed information required. I’m going for something much higher paying than I have now which is understandable because of the collapsing economy. One thing on my mind is how people are stereotyped, labeled and categorized in modern society. Like many places, this one had me sit down at a computer to fill it out the application; there was no person to talk to, just an impersonal machine.

The collection of demographic information makes me feel uncomfortable. They first ask you to check a square by your race. Am I African American, Caucasian, Latin American and so on. I’m wondering what difference does it make? It was incredibly detailed – even asking if I had a tattoo and if so, where on my body it was as a picture of it would need to be taken. They required a highly detailed 12 year job history and required I give them permission to check my credit. I feel that is a violation of my constitutional rights. No employer has the right to peer into my private credit history. I had to give them permission to also do a criminal background check which I understand, but for this particular job, I felt was quite unnecessary.

Finally of course, they required a hair shaft drug screen, where they pluck several hairs from your scalp for spectroscopic chemical analysis. By the time I was done, I felt like I had been molested. You may be wondering what kind of job I was applying for. Surely it was to homeland security, the FBI or something extremely sensitive…right? No. It was a bartending job at the Beau Rivage Casino…hahaha! That is unbelievable isn’t it? Yes, it is an incredibly high paying job, but the requirements are ridiculous.

Modern society is based on shallow attitudes and ratings. We have learned to stereotype and rate people based on different criteria. We are being psychologically conditioned by mass media entertainment: she’s beautiful, he’s an asshole, those people are black, they’re racist, he’s a fundamental Christian bigot, she’s an atheist with no heart or soul and so forth. It’s so ingrained into our lives – we have become slaves to entertainment, religion, patriotism and many other labels.

I talked about how we do not realize how much power we truly have in my previous post on aikido. You live your life, do the best you can and become a slave to society itself. People have this take care of your own backyard mentality because there is nothing you can do to change anything. That’s true and exactly what our leaders want. They want you enslaved and helpless, watching TV, noodling on the web and on and on – all while a handful of super rich individuals have and own everything.

Think about this: You are a Christian parent with a five year old child. Religion and Jesus is everything to you and you’re teaching your child the same thing. Your neighbors are an atheist family with a five year old child. The atheist family believes that Jesus is a myth and never actually existed. They believe the bible is just a bunch of mythological stories plagiarized from other works that predate Christianity. Would you let your Christian child play with the atheist child? Would you be friends with the atheist family? What if the atheist parents told your young impressionable Christian child that nothing in the bible is true? Would you be upset? Of course you would, and chances are, you would not be friends with them. The point is, when religion or any view causes such a deep division among people, it ceases to be good. There are even fundamentalist atheists who think all religion should be outlawed. They are both wrong. I am part of no group and choose instead to be a free thinker, which is also a label and causes division. Isn’t life fun?

Some people think a possible second American revolution is coming. I fully disagree with that. We are far too lazy and just don’t care enough to do anything about it. Have you heard the phrase, divide and conquer? That’s exactly what is going on in this world. We are all divided, not just geographically, but by race, religion, class and other means. The world is filled with problems, but at the heart of every single one of them is this division between us all.

Stereotypes-Labels-Generalizations

Stereotypes-Labels-Generalizations

These labels, stereotypes and shallow generalizations will never go away, but we have to live together and get along. We shouldn’t generalize anything. Some people generalize about Muslims which is ridiculous. They are all different depending on where they’re from and many other factors. It’s just like there are many types of Christians. People think Jewish people are tight with their money, Mexican people steal cars, British people have bad teeth, people from the southern United States commit incest – it goes on forever. Young girls feel ugly when they don’t fit the image of what popular magazines say is beautiful, which is so unsettling it makes me sick. In France, I believe “stick” models are banned from magazine commercials if I’m not mistaken. In America, such a law would be considered a violation of our freedom…hahaha! Go figure.

I don’t have the answers, just some observations. None of this stuff stresses me out any more, it doesn’t help anything, especially me. I was thinking about what could help me and my blog. Here are some ideas:

On The Lighter Side

  • I need to get in the Oprah Winfrey studio audience or do something wrong and get sued on Judge Judy’s TV show. As soon as the mike got near my mouth I would say, “Revellian dot com…that’s r-e-v-e-l-l-i-a-n dot com,” over and over. I wouldn’t shut up until they arrested me gaining me national headlines. While basking in my 15 minutes of fame, I would go streaking down the streets of New York City screaming my website name. Following that, I would get a book deal and a spot on some sitcom. Hey…it’s a plan.
  • If I could be spotted alone with Hillary Clinton and get someone to snap a photo, I would tell everyone I had sex with her. When asked by the media, I would say something smart like, “She was walking with a limp on cloud 9 when I got done with it.” I figure this site would get 10 million hits the day it happened. With 15 year old Miley Cyrus getting tons of attention because of her new racy pictures, I could do something similar. People don’t realize that her ploy was engineered specifically to garner massive press. Vanity Fair magazine got 5 million hits yesterday because of this. After all, isn’t any and all press, good press? Sorry to get off topic towards the end, but I didn’t want to end this post on a sad note. :twisted:

* The picture is How to spot a psychopath! from Dan’s Data
* I actually wrote this post several months ago, one of many sitting unpublished. I added a little to it this morning so it would be better and more current.

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Solicitation: Britney Spears & Judge Judy

Apr 18

Posted by Bobby Revell in horror, Humor

I never visit New Orleans without incident. There is always something weird that happens to me and this trip was no exception. I walked out of an occult shoppe in the French Quarter where I purchased a brand new set of Haitian voodoo dolls. With the weekend coming up, I hate to be without them.

I was standing on the sidewalk for a moment deciding where to go next when a Rolls Royce limousine pulled up next to me. The back window cracked open – thickened hashish smoke rolled gently outward, permeated with the fragrant vapors of perfume and whiskey. I heard a bit of girlish giggling inside, a familiar voice squealed, “Come here dude.”

I thought I was about to be robbed or kidnapped, but stood there bravely with wallet tightly gripped in my steely vice. The window came down revealing a shocking spectacle – Britney Spears smoking hash in an elaborately decorated Turkish pipe – the words Oops I Smoked it Again engraved in exotic script along it’s contours.

voodoo dolls

voodoo dolls

I said, “Hi Britney!”

“How much?” she replied.

I was confused, unsure what she meant and replied, “How much? How much for what?”

She lifted her sunglasses glaring at me like I was playing dumb, “Don’t even play with me right now, I ain’t in no mood for that. How much for you sugar?” I shot her a look of bewildering perplexity – she continued, “How much for you to crawl in here and give me and my friend some afternoon delight!”

I leaned over to see her friend; it was a Judge Judy in a black bra and panties – I almost barfed. Judge Judy rapped her mallet on the head rest and in a most authoritative tone commanded, “Order in the court…you answer Ms. Spears sir. How much do you charge…hehehahaha!”

They took a few shots of liquor and busted into hysterical laughter. Britney said, “What’s your name honey?”

“Uh…well er um…Bobby, my name is Bobby.”

Britney smiled in an extremely erotic fashion, “Do you find me attractive Bobby?”

“Yes Britney, I guess…but you are looking a bit tattered.”

“It’s been a long day…how much?” she squawked.

I remembered a prostitute negotiation I saw on the TV show “Cops” and said, “Britney, for you…a thousand dollars. For Judge Judy, 100 million dollars in unmarked twenties – I want the money upfront. This is a high end district. This is grade AAA American male,” I then gave them a runway model turnaround and put my hand on my hip.

Judge Judy started crying, “Wah…He thinks I’m ugly. Nobody wants me.”

Britney wrapped her arms around her and said, “Poor Judy, I’ll get you laid. You deserve it.”

I said, “It’s not that you’re ugly your honor, you’re just such a mean sour pus on your show. You are ugly inside and quite frankly, it gives me chills. Another thing…that black widow tattoo on your breast is very unattractive. Brit, if you get rid of the Judge, I will get in.”

Britney twirled her tongue wildly with spectacular dexterousness and said, “Too bad for you loser, you don’t know what you just missed out on,” she rolled up the window and the limousine drove off. Sorry, I’m just not attracted to judge Judy. I immediately felt degraded. I drove home and took five hot showers trying to wash the filthy thoughts from my soul. I felt so disgusting.

When you’re bored or burned out from blogging and don’t have any good ideas for a post, make one up!

* This story is pure fiction by Bobby Revell
* I do not really practice voodoo
* If Britney or Judge Judy sue me, I have no money to give them and will move to another country

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Advertising On Your Body and Soul

Mar 30

Posted by Bobby Revell in Humor

Blogging scares news corporations and the entertainment industry, and it keeps getting better. Now, with the Internet, people like to entertain themselves, and become their own stars. YouTube and social networking sites are having a powerful effect on how money is made – it’s becoming more about the people and less about the huge corporations. We live in a world of shallow, self-serving people festering in lustful greed – isn’t that just wonderful?

Why should I watch only TV when I can watch free stuff? Wouldn’t it be cool, if the big corporations paid us, rather than the other way around? Corporations are paying people to have their logo tattooed on their bodies! That is insane. I will only wear generic clothes and shoes from now on. It’s funny how we pay for name brands. All we’re really doing is paying some corporation so we have the privilege to advertise for them! What? They should pay us for that. I’m going to start wearing blank t-shirts like this:

Advertise on my Body

Advertise on my Body

The T-shirts are $25.00 each, use the contact form above and drop me an e-mail to order.

I think of my blog as my home. What about you? Many blogs are businesses, others are personal and so forth. When you put your Technorati authority, Alexa ranking and Google page rank on the face of your blog, what exactly are you trying to say? Would you put such information on your clothes, car or even your home? I see a page rank widget on a blog and I’m thinking, this person probably wears clothes with price tags hanging off of them. It’s a little tacky when you think about it.
Would you hang an offensively tasteless sign like this in front of your house?:

Blogger Home Advertising

Blogger Home Advertising

Think about how easy it is to pump up your Technorati authority with meme’s and link chains. This would be like a person wearing a fake Rolex watch. Look…I’m wearing a Rolex! Why not have a fake price sticker of $27,000.00 on it too? That way people know how valuable you are. It’s all pretty silly when you think about it. I don’t display any of these rankings on my blog. I uninstalled my pagerank toolbar too because I don’t like the idea of immediately judging every site I see. Do you do that? Do you immediately check ranking when you go to a new site? If not, than why bother with even looking or having stats pasted all over your blog? It’s just something to think about. The truth is, I could care less how much money you make or how popular your blog is; it has nothing to do with me reading or coming back. I actually look for people who are friendly, that can write cool stuff, are fun or having something other to offer than just making money or gaining something for themselves. Here’s a cool way to make money after you die:

Gravestone Advertising

Gravestone Advertising

Blogging is changing the web and the way things work in nearly every part of society – or I should say the Internet itself is changing everything. So I ask you, would you have a Pepsi tattoo inked on your forehead for the right price? I would. The price is 10 million in gold bullion.

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44 Comments

Rent Yourself A New Image

Feb 29

Posted by Bobby Revell in Humor

We are bombarded with the importance of image and societal class every day of our lives. The way a person looks is often placed above their values and it is reinforced by compliments and feelings of false self-esteem.

People buy $25,000.00 Rolex watches on credit so people will view them as high class citizens. Hence they can look down on another for not wearing name brands. I am perplexed by this and find it to be the most ridiculous aspect of life. From $500.00 haircuts to thousand dollar shoes, people are all about their image.

I saw an advertisement for some website that rents designer purses to women yesterday and laughed uncontrollably; I literally almost passed out. I’m sorry, but that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. What kind of person would rent a purse? Who would even know that it was so great anyway?

I’ve known guys who rented sports cars to impress a girl on a hot date (not me!) – but purse rental? If a woman rents a purse it will not impress a man. Men don’t notice purses or what brand of clothes a woman wears. It would only be to impress other women or just to make themselves feel important.

Imagine this: I see a woman with a fancy handbag, walk up and say,”What a beautiful purse! Let me guess – it’s a custom shop Gucci – no, it’s a Louis Vuitton! Is it a rental, or did you buy?”

As absurd as that sounds, it would probably be a great opening line (except for asking if it was rented) for someone into superficiality. If I dated a woman with a rented purse, would I need a matching rented wallet? Where can I rent some designer underwear? You never know when you’ll need these items!

dirty-suit.jpg

So I’m standing there, looking filthy rich in my rented Jean Paul Gautier suit. Behind me is my rented Porsche and people standing downwind can smell the delicious aroma of my overpriced Creed Bois du Portugal cologne. I step forward in my rented, $1500.00 Testoni
Norvegese shoes and pray someone important notices how cool I am – if only for a second.

“Please God, someone notice my opulence…my swagger…my richness! Look at me you poor fools – wearing your $12.00 Wal-Mart sneakers and your $5.00 t-shirts. SOMEBODY PLEASE LOOK AT HOW RICH I AM!”

In the midst of my conniption fit, a dirty piece of trash pickup truck drives by, splashing a tidal wave of grotesque mud all over my wealthy attire. I scream, “You scumbag piece of human dirt…how dare you!”

I cannot bring these soiled clothes back to the rental store; I will have to actually buy them. I took out a high interest loan just to rent them – now, I’ll probably lose my apartment and have to move into a poor neighborhood. What on Earth will I do?

I see a rich man step out of a Rolls Royce, noticing a thick wallet in his jacket pocket. I run at him in a ferocious rage, “Give me your wallet fool…I gotta pay my bills!”

A poor street thug sporting a gold chain and drinking Bling-Bling Blue Raspberry wine blows my head off with a shotgun – my blood sodden brains splatter across my rented porsche. Yes…redemption…and I die in style.

bling-bling-mad-dog.jpgIf you’re wondering, there actually is Bling-Bling wine. I used to manage a liquor store that serviced a poor area, inundated with crack head wino’s. Mogen David 20/20 wine is a traditional, high alcohol wine affectionately known as “mad dog”. With a stroke of business genius, they decided to capitalize on America’s love affair with gang culture and put a fake gold chain sticker on the bottle and named it “Bling-Bling”. Hahahahahahahaha! People came in the store in droves saying, “Yo…gimme some of that bling-bling…hell yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout!” I still have trouble believing that people actually bought this stuff…now that’s American.

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