BWAHAHA (Blair’s Week Attempts at Haha’s) 1/4 – 1/10: This was mostly a boring week for me. I was able to finally get to an Open Mic locally after a four month hiatus. It was great getting back in front of an audience, even if three quarters of them were drunk and not paying attention to me at all.
If I ever get married again, this is what I want her to be doing when we are 75.
Police: To Protect and To SERVE!
Why Bugs Bunny didn’t make the left turn at Albuquerque.
Some people are living the GTA5 life away from their gaming console.
Paranormal Activity 6: Spongebob Scarypants
The problem with putting on a sweatshirt out of the dryer is it makes you realize how cold the rest of your body is.
Judgment Day is every day for me: I judge people for their stupid beliefs at least three or four times a day.
Football is the only thing in Alabama drawing bigger crowds than church or KKK rallies, though it’s hard to separate those two things.
Oh, Santa finally delivered my gift!
Having used up all the oil from dinosaurs, oil companies are tapping a new resource…
Using any petroleum-based lubricant for sex/masturbation is technically necrophilia.
Sweatshirt: check. Spring Jacket: check. Winter coat: umm… errr… umm… Fuck, I don’t own a winter jacket.
I feel bad for the woman standing next to me. It’s so cold that her frost indicators fell off.
Apparently, Honey got a Boo Boo.
I used ghost pepper flakes in my sausage: I’m actually kinda scared to take a bite.
Some men have a problem with butterface women, but I have a problem with butterfaith women.
Annie was an embarrassed millionaire until she met Daddy Warbucks. #RepublicanPropagandaFilms
Sometimes I think humans are descended from Homo Aspergensis.
Here, let me get that for you.
New video, Librarians Gone Wild.
Must be a Chik-Fil-A parking lot.
Overheard at the bar, “Get your stories straight or this conversation is over.” Damn pushy bartender.
Life: “Oh, you saved a bit of money to do something fun for yourself? Yeah, I’m gonna kill your car battery. Oh, and that battery is going to cost more than you saved up.”
The cat wants desperately inside my house… so it can ask to go back outside two minutes later. Fuck him, he’s a long-haired cat with a massive winter coat. He’ll be just fine. Well, c’mon, he survived the last two nights in teen temperatures and tonight’s going to be in the mid-thirties. He’s fine.
Just listened to the new John Denver song, “West Virginia Rivers.” It really stunk.
A woman on Lulu hashtagged me as #DoesntKnowIExist. Well yeah, because I’m not a psychic! You gotta tell me!
So a friend of mine posted this picture:
Here are my replies to this picture:
Step three feet back and grab my shotgun: fully loaded and one in the chamber. Just have to push the safety button, conveniently located right next to the trigger.
Stop taking hallucinogens.
Call the dog catcher.
Tell my girlfriend to go back downstairs.
Start doing an Irish jig… werewolves hate that shit!
Reconsider my decision to go back to Plenty of Fish for dating.
Throw the person in the wheelchair down the stairs: it’s food for the werewolf and an obstacle for it to get over… giving me time to escape.
Remind my girlfriend, once again, that I asked her to shave.
Decide to put my kid back on Ritalin.
Throw the underwear I just had to change down the stairs.
Stand in front of a mirror and say, “Van Helsing, Van Helsing, Van Helsing.” I hear that works just like Candyman and Beetlejuice.
Turn to my friends and ask, “Okay, which one of you pissed off Chewbacca?”
Accept my fate and yell, “It’s shredding time!”
Call Corey Haim and Gary Busey: they killed a werewolf once.
I knew Jazzercise would come in handy one day! Cardio… cardio… cardio…