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Tag Archives: friday the 13th

I can be dumb, but I’m not stupid.

Someone texted me this week and said I should write a blog about the Vegas Massacre.

Are you out of your fucking mind?

As it is, I get around 100 hate emails a month from people that take exception to the crap I trowel  out on this blog.

That is down from its heyday when I used to post every weekday.

There are some subjects that you don’t fuck around with.

Because writing a hate email is one thing, but you stoke that fire high enough and people begin to seek you out for the purpose of getting a pound of flesh.

And I like my pounds where they are.

Mass tragedies are a dicy thing to spin humorously.

Same thing with pedophiles.

I once knew a stand up comic who’s comedy was based on his level of drunkeness.

I went to one of his shows, and he was supposed to go on at 10pm, so he was pacing his drinking appropriately.

But, at 9:45pm, the bar owner said some friends had come in and were going on ahead of him.

My friend didn’t go on until 1am.

He could barely make it up the stairs to the stage.

What followed was the most vile, upsetting 10 minute spew of truly obscene pedophile jokes I have ever heard.

At the end of his set, the entire room was silent, except for the sound of a woman crying softly in the back.

Half the bar wanted to hold his arms so the other half could beat him with both fists.

It was an ugly night.

And that is how I view Vegas.

Don’t touch it unless I am prepared to talk my way out of an angry room that wants to gang stomp me as part of some sort of cosmic penance for my sins.

 

That being said, HOLY SHIT!

Its Friday the 13th.

And that has its own circus side show of terrifying shit going along with it.

I like to board up the windows on on Friday the 13th just on principal, just on the off chance that some sort of random Purge event erupts around my house. (Roaming gangs out for government sanctioned blood. That sort of thing.)

I see nothing unmanly about cowering behind barred doors with piss dribbling down my leg.

The vile things that happen on Friday the 13th are well documented, so the facts are on my side.

The biggest event that I could care less about, but did happen on the 13th was the shooting of Tupac.

So there you go.

Add that to the homeless guy outside Starbucks with the sign saying he needs money because “Raped by Weinstein, need money for therapy” and you have a bit of a bitch’s brew of evil going on today. (I gave the homeless guy a buck, by the way, for originality and for keeping up on current events. I appreciate dedication to craft.)

There is just something about this day that sets me off on an instinctive level.

On a gut level, I am firmly convinced that the world is out to get me.

I am even giving my coffee the stink eye.

So you KNOW its bad.

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Posted by on October 13, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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The tell tale smell of fear and urine.

I’m not being a pussy.

There is a fine line between being superstitious about a date on the calendar and living in abject, shit yourself stark terror at the thought of a particular date on a calendar.

You wake up on Friday the 13th and realize that you are laying in a puddle of your own urine.

And it only goes downhill from there.

Someone tried to tell me that “It’s just another day, its no big deal”.

If this was a horror film, they would be the one that decides to investigate the abandoned boat house by themself.

In other words, they will be the first to die horribly.

Fear is a funny thing.

Not funny ha ha, but funny like scared and you turn and run into a pole funny.

I lost my keys on the last Friday the 13th.

That may not sound like much, but if I fell into a wood chipper trying to find them, you would feel differently, wouldn’t you?

See what I mean?

“But you didn’t fall into a wood chipper.”

Thank God!

I got lucky that Friday the 13 decided to find a victim elsewhere that day.

There are only 2 Friday the 13ths this year.

At least that spreads out the horror instead of it being just 1 day.

When its just 1 day, 1 Friday the 13th in a year, that is some powerful mojo.

That is like Y2K, planes falling from the sky, MASS HYSTERIA kind of day.

2 in a year is more of your, cheesy slasher film kind of horror.

That I can deal with.

All I need is coffee and to hear that click on the door of my panic room.

Then I can just sit there naked and drink my coffee and wait for the inevitable.

Why am I naked?

Why are you clothed? (Let’s not get bogged down with a lot of questions.)

Side note. A dog barked next door and I just about pissed myself. Shut that beast up, some of us are trying to quiver in fear, for God’s sake!

The sad part is, I have to go to work.

I showered and narrowly escaped slipping and cracking my head open.

I shaved and almost cut my throat open when my razor broke.

The drive to work was like a Mission Impossible car chase.

I am sitting at my desk, waiting for a disgruntled co worker to go on a rampage.

So I realize I am on borrowed time here.

Tell my kids I love them.

At some point, I am sure a Syrian refugee will commit an act of some sort in my vicinity with dire consequences.

Its kind of a “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong, and it will probably kill you.” type of thing.

So, if I survive the day and I am not in a medically induced coma, (Might be the only way to save me) I will write about my survival next week.

Until then, keep your head down, drink your coffee, and for God’s sake, put some pants on.

 

 
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Posted by on January 13, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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Anybody dead yet?

Paraskevidekatriaphobia: Fear of Friday the 13th.

Excuse me while I shit myself sideways and die.

Its no secret that this day in particular tends to give me an immediate case of swampass.

And you people are READING it on Friday the 13th as if its nothing.

Well, dipshit, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but…

We’re all gonna die.

Look at the logic, for God’s sake.

There is ONLY ONE Friday the 13th this year, versus 3 last year.

This year has all of the power crammed into one day.

Think this is bullshit?

Anyone want to guess when the last year was that had only one Friday the 13th in it?

2001, the year of 9/11.

Ha!

Now, I know that half of you are ready to get into the panic room I have been building to ride out this evil storm and the rest, morons really, are skeptical.

Anybody ever see the movie the Purge?

That is exactly what is going on.

Anarchy, blood in the streets, dogs and cats- living together. MASS HYSTERIA! (Name the movie and you get sprinkles.)

And the twisted part of it all is that I am forgoing my time honored tradition of huddling in the dark and crying like a little girl for the day.

I will be thumbing my nose at the beast and going hiking.

There is an excellent chance with will be the last blog ever written as I will be dead at the bottom of a cliff by 9am tomorrow, both legs broken and gang-raped by bigfoot and the chubacabra.

I was going to say that there are worse ways to die, but I can’t think of a worse way to die right now, that sounds pretty F-ing horrible.

But, I have been bitten pretty badly by the hiking bug and I am heading out every day off I have.

Like a healthy form of meth, I am pretty deep into the addiction.

It is better for your body than meth and you never have to blow anyone in an alley for a trail.

So I’ve got that going for me.

Turns out, that after a lifetime spent growing up in southern California, I suddenly found out there are amazing trails all over the place.

And it may be the cheapest hobby on the day to day.

Decent shoes are a must, along with something to hold water and food, hiking poles are nice, shade hat and sunglasses.

But you can piece it all together on the cheap and as long as you have the free time, you can go binge on your addiction all you like.

I will get sick of it eventually, but for right now, I am loving it.

But hiking on Friday the 13th has that extra edge of masochism to it that makes it pretty exciting.

I wonder what its like to die in a landslide?

Without coffee?

Now THAT is scary.

Fuck it, I am staying home.

If anyone needs me, they will find me in my panic room, sipping coffee and crying like a little girl. (Possibly masturbating, but this is a don’t ask/don’t tell blog.)

My condolences.

 
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Posted by on May 13, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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The smell of doom.

I am not sure how much more I can take.

Everyone has been acting all week like this is no big deal.

Like I have not been in danger of shitting myself at any moment.

Friday the 13th, like its nothing to worry about.

Here is a fact:

  1. 18 years ago, on FRIDAY THE 13TH, I broke a toe on the doorjam of my kitchen.
  2. 22 years ago, on FRIDAY THE 13TH, I not only walked into a spider web, but I inadvertently swallowed a spider. (Pucker factor alone made me throw up a little in my mouth just now.)
  3. In the last 30 years, the following job-ending activities have happened within a few days of FRIDAY THE 13TH: 2 layoffs, 1 boss died, 1 fire and the accidental killing of the boss’s wife’s cat by my own negligence. Lotta negative shit here, people.

Now that you have a little back story, you can see the clear connection to a random number on the calendar and how it will be directly responsible for my oddly suspicious death.

So feel free to tempt fate and wander around today while death tries to fit you onto its schedule later today.

I will be hiding under the bed with my coffee and numchucks.

What I don’t get is that people wander around like everything is fine.

Would I be under the bed if everything was alright? Of course not.

Which reminds me, I need to sweep under the bed.

But I think we have all forgotten the fact that the FEAR of bad things happening on Friday the 13th is founded on scientific principles, proven as fact again and again.

I read that on a website on the INTERNET, so you know it’s true.

The only thing that would make it more true is if someone posted it on Facebook, the you know its a fact.

And there are those that choose to be ignorant and belittle those of us with the experience and wisdom to see the foul karmic shit storm today poses. Let them stew in their silly denial of the truth, then cry like slow children when fate takes a shit on them.

Me? Safe under the bed, highly caffeinated and heavily armed.

Outside? Zombie holocaust. Or something. I wouldn’t know, really. Not gonna look. Its horrible, whatever it is.

But, if the fates are kind, it won’t be too bad.

I gotta go to work tomorrow.

 
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Posted by on November 13, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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The Bitch is Back

We’re all gonna die.

These things happen.

Simple fact.

Probably soon.

Today is Friday the 13th, second month in a row.

Do you have any idea how rare that is?

Its like a unicorn being gang raped by a leprechaun and Santa Claus, and they all have winning lottery tickets

I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

I don’t remember the last time there was Friday the 13th two months in a row.

I have had a few people tell me I am being superstitious and paranoid.

Hey, I don’t make the rules.

To paraphrase, Hate the game, not the scared player hiding under his bed.

There are those that say that Friday the 13th is just a day like any other day.

Yeah, and there are those that are against vaccinations too.

Perfect example, I got out of bed on Friday the 13th last month and immediately slammed my baby toe into the dresser.

Need I say more?

I can hear the doubters right now “That proves nothing. “

Fine, I’ll say more.

Not more than 5 minutes later, I got a papercut.

[Microphone drop.]

I NEVER get paper cuts, I have skin like a lizard.

If you still doubt me even in the face of empirical evidence, here is the final piece of proof.

I lost my car keys. LOST MY CAR KEYS! Are you bastards even listening?!?!

So for the second Friday in the 13th in a row? Screw it, I am not going out of the house today.

I have thought long and hard, employed rational thought, common sense and a little immigrant wisdom, and here is what I have come up with.

Drinking coffee and hiding under the bed.

Go ahead and laugh, but when the land around us is a charred pile of rubble, I will be probably still be hiding out, having coffee.

Will there be Starbucks in the wastelands of the future? Magic 8-ball says it seems likely.

God forbid I have to make my own, then I know we’re screwed.

Did the movie Mad Max teach us nothing?

For those not in the know, Mad Max was Mel Gibson’s first movie. (This was back before he became a misogynistic, anti-semitic, racist who evidently didn’t know that the red light is blinking when you are being recorded. See also Donald Sterling.)

And it was a low budget post apocalyptic car and violence fest set in Australia.

What did we learn from it?

First, without franchise coffee houses, the people descend into anarchy and join punk rock biker gangs.

Second, when the shit goes down, Australia is the last place you wanna be.

Although I hear Syndey is lovely in season.

Could the apocalypse be moved to Southern California?

The weather is better and there is a Starbucks on every corner.

It would make the wasteland much more pleasant.

So, that is what today is all about.

Hiding, drinking coffee and trying to figure out which post-apocalyptic coffee houses will have wifi.

Thank God for Keurig, the pod coffee machine.

It makes an acceptable cup.

Trust me, you don’t want my drip coffee.

If the coffee depends on me, I inadvertently make it strong enough to give a meth-head the shakes.

That is not enough of an ability to make me a warlord of the coming wasteland, but it does have me stockpiling Keurig.

To sum up, Coffee, nuclear holocaust, Australia, and support the troops.

We all on the same page now?

And, if you are stupid enough to go outside on Friday the 13th, despite all my warnings, don’t come running to me when all hell breaks loose.

If you are set upon by rabid dogs, gangs of Chicago children (Like a finishing school for murderers that place) or a Jehova witness stops you to force a copy of the Watchtower on you, you had it coming.

And if anyone is looking for me, I will be under the bed.

Nursing my coffee like a Canadian baby on a United Airlines flight. (Google it, people! Do I have to do everything for you?)

 
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Posted by on March 13, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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We’re all gonna die. Just saying.

I try not to work on Friday the 13th, as a general rule.

This is not new, we’ve discussed this before.

Its not because I’m superstitious or anything.

I just have a healthy respect for tradition and also, I am convinced that bad luck and an old gypsy woman’s curse will kill me horribly on that day.

Call me a pussy, I don’t care.

If you ask me, there is not enough respect for fear-driven urban legend.

And I am not talking about the “Don’t flash your lights at another car that have their’s off at night, its a gang initiation, they’ll turn around and kill you.” Kind of modern day crap.

I am talking about the ones that are several hundred years old, well, like Friday the 13th.

No wonder they made it into a scary movie.

Scary movies exist to scare us, that much is true.

On the surface.

But underneath, there is a whole other psychological game being played.

Scary movies exist to rub our noses in the primal fear of death.

That is what they are really about.

Primal fear is a gift you acquire at birth and it follows you thru life, like a combination lost puppy/grim reaper that you cannot shake.

Not to be confused with Catholic guilt, which is another type of guilt entirely, self inflicted and even harder to shake.

Primal fear and Catholic guilt are both irrational fears.

Catholic is only slightly easier to navigate.

Primal fear encompasses everything in the world that could kill you.

Catholic guilt encompasses everything in life that you might do wrong.

Subtle difference, but a discernible one.

Sometimes, they crossover and are the same fear.

Except, especially at those times, fixing one doesn’t necessarily fix the other.

That concept of fixing a problem and it still not being fixed is a tough one to get the first time it occurs to you.

Mainly because it is an unsatisfying answer, and unsatisfying answers are never easy to swallow.

They are the “Cod Liver Oil” of answers. They may do the job, but they make you feel sick while doing it.

Its a little like being in a relationship and having an argument.

You may win the argument, and you are still screwed.

Like winning the battle but losing the war.

Except this is worse, you are sleeping with the enemy as it were.

Myself, much like all vermin, I thrive on conflict and confrontation, preferably as a witness.

I would use “Fly on the wall” but I find them repulsive. (The whole eating thru vomiting thing is tough to get around. Imagine two girls one cup National Geographic style.)

What does any of this have to do with Friday the 13th?

Today is the day when I avoid human contact.

If I avoid dealing with people and/or machines, they cannot blow up and try to kill me.

That sounds paranoid, right up until you look at insurance company statistics.

More insurance claims are made for accidental death and dismemberment list today as the day of infamy.

I don’t need that kind of pressure.

I am perfectly capable of maiming myself without nature lending an evil hand.

 
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Posted by on June 13, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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A day for clenching your ass cheeks.

Friday the 13th, are you fucking kidding me?

I hate this day.

When I was younger, I figured I would come to a point where it wouldn’t bother me anymore.

Not working out.

From the moment I see it coming up on the calendar, I am filled with a sincere feeling of dread.

My ass is in full clench from the moment I get up to the moment I fall fitfully to sleep.

And there is a voice in the back of my head that is SURE that the second I relax I will get rickets or aids or bite by a dog or something.

Like a foamy mouthed pitbull.

The breed used in the line above is to piss off a friend that rescues pitbulls.

I like to stack the “Piss off” deck every now and then.

Maybe it is due to still recovering from a lack of sleep after flying in on that flying gulag known as SouthWest airlines.

(Also got an email protesting my description of what SouthWest did to my flight schedule as “Slipping it a roofy and raping it without a condom.” And that is STILL funny.)

However, it could be a sense of dread that comes with the understanding that Friday could be the day the shit hits the fan.

Not sure, zombie holocaust type of shit, but definitely shit of some sort.

I gassed up my car and checked the oil.

Checked my stockpile of canned goods and potable water.

Made sure my ammo stash is full.

Dropped by the church and lit a few candles, I am hedging all bets at this point.

And I am still not ready.

But there is only so much you can do, other than hiding out and laying low on the day in question.

Which I am planning to do.

Don’t call me, don’t text me, and don’t even think about trying to Skype me.

I am not answering shit.

If you see me Friday, its because you are hiding in my closet and what the hell is wrong with you?

The internet is not helping.

I just found a website that has dozens of horrid things that have all happened on Friday the 13th.

The last thing I need right now are facts, mainly because the fantasy in my head is powerful enough to keep me sleepless for weeks.

So, let that be the only warning I will give.

Lay low, avoid strangers and strange things, and above all, keep me out of it.

 

Wrote the previous a few days ago.

Seems a little dour on the re-read.

Good.

I wouldn’t want everyone but me to take this less serious than I.

My plan? I will spend my day with a rabbit’s foot in one hand and a St. Christopher medal in the other and both ass cheeks in full clench for the entire day.

Swamp ass? It goes without saying.

 
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Posted by on December 13, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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