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Tag Archives: metoo

My how you’ve changed, Tiny Tim

(Tiny Tim was kind of a main-stream side show freak that played the ukulele and sang in a high enough soprano made dogs howl. The importance of this will be apparent soon.)

The one thing you never want to do when out clubbing in Vegas is cross a line.

Let me set the scene for you.

Ceasar’s is one of the higher end casinos in Vegas.

The crappiest bar there is still better than 80% of bars elsewhere.

The pretty people are out in droves.

Some of the dresses cost as much as a bottle of high end wine.

The drinks are amazing, but cost a bloody fortune.

The breasts that are on display are expensive, not common work at all. (I am not saying I have extensively studied this subject on numerous websites, but it is important to have a hobby.)

So the last thing you want to see….. is Tiny Tim.

If I had to make a guess, I would say that Tiny Tim is the manager of tech support at a Best Buy is Walloby City, Kansas. (Walloby City is technically not the middle of nowhere, but you can Uber there for under $5 even during prime time.)

The best thing you can say about Tiny Tim is that he has plenty of confidence and he is thoroughly convinced that he is a “Hot Piece of Ass”.

The worst thing you can say is that he has never been, is not and will never be a “Hot Piece of Ass”.

The casino is high 60’s, on the comfortable side of chilly. 

But Tiny Tim had a good sheen of sweat going on when he walked into the bar.

And once he started dancing, flop sweat is the term that came immediately to mind.

Knowing that you are prone to flop sweat, you would thing Tiny Tim would avoid bright cottony t-shirts. 

Bright red cotton shirts darken if you sweat even a little bit. 

But they create dish plate sized sweat stains around your armpits the second you use the phrase “Flop sweat”.

The second worst thing you can say about Tiny Tim is his dancing is a visual affront to the senses.

That is why this next line is going to come off as fat-shaming.

Its not, but let me explain.

If you are just under 6 feet tall, your weight could be an average of 160lbs to 220lbs, depending on what kind of build you have.

So Tiny Tim’s bowling ball like shape puts a weight at over 300, but not more than 400lbs puts an idea of exactly what type of dancing you are expecting from him. 

White guy shuffle, right?

WRONG!

Tiny Tim loves to twerk it seems. 

Yeah. Let that sink in.

If you suddenly feel an urge to shower and scrub your skin raw, resist it. 

No amount of soap will make you feel clean after this. 

There is a group of guys on the edge of the small dance floor.

They look like mid-level managers for a manufacturing company. 

One guy looks like a beefy Ichabod Crane. (Sleepy Hollow? No? Fine, tall and geeky looking)

Ichabod is standing in place, bopping to the music, but is not noticing Tiny Tim’s ass, moving closer with each twerk.

And then it happens.

Tiny Tim’s ass makes contact.

To say that Ichabod flinched is to ignore the definition of the word. 

Ichabod’s entire body torqued and he shot back about 3 feet.

“WHAT THE…!?!?!?”

Tiny Tim knew what happened, judging by the little smirk, it was his intention.

Ichabod has several emotions going on at once. 

First, he’s pissed. (Somebody touched him on his naughty bits without asking for permission to come about.

He never expected his trip to Vegas to include his own personal #MeToo moment.)

Second, he seems like he wants to be confused, maybe praying that he is reading the situation wrong.

(Keep praying, sluggo. Tiny Tim rubbed his ass on your junk. In certain cultures, your are now engaged.)

Third, he seems……disappointed? (Was he perhaps thinking that he deserved a hotter dude? Your dress shirt and jeans look is really not that studly.)

The interesting thing is, Tiny Tim has not stopped dancing. In fact, he has turned away from Ichabod.

Ichabod has been used and cast aside like a cheap one night stand. 

And he didn’t even get breakfast.

Poor guy. 

I hate it when relationships don’t work out.

I am a romantic at heart. 

 
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Posted by on November 2, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

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Under the mistletoe. #METOO

The week before Christmas is rarely all sugar cookies.

Lotta shit goes down twisted.

There are some years that have been that bad that you are afraid to be caught under the mistletoe because you could get “Roofied”. (Happy “Cosby” Xmas!)

The darker side is, there is usually a death around Xmas that slows the holiday cheer just a tad.

Think I’m kidding?

I have had Grandparents, cousins and a favorite pet pass away around the holidays.

My rotten suspicious side begins to wonder if Santa is involved somehow?

I mean, he is making a list, checking it twice.

Serial killers are known for making lists.

Let’s look at other red flags surrounding “Old St Nick”.

He lives in an isolated area and keeps to himself 364 days a year.

Has an associate with a Euro first name who’s nose is always red? (Rudolph? A coke-head? Bear with me.)

He breaks into numerous people’s houses and eats their food. (Homeowners have yet to find him passed out on their kitchen floor in a puddle of his own piss, but its just a matter of time.)

I am shocked we have not seen Santa on an episode of COPS. (The plates on the sled come back stolen, Santa is “Borrowing” the sled from a friend who’s name he can’t remember and that baggie of powder in his pocket? “That’s not mine!”)

It would be worth the soul-crushing disappointment just to see the Jolly Fat Man being fed into the back of a patrol car in handcuffs.

 

Just had a frightening moment.

I was sexually harassed.

I thought I was going to have to do a #METOO post on Facebook.

I was sitting here, reading this piece on my laptop, when I felt it.

A hand brushed my testicles.

I ignored it, maybe someone bumped into me.

And then the hand began fondling me.

I froze.

I was humiliated, I was embarrassed.

And then I realized the hand was mine.

False alarm.

 

In true caffeine-soaked, grinch-like fashion, I didn’t finish the blog ahead of schedule and have it post early today.

I am belting it out and will immediately post.

Although, that was how the first 6 months of the blog was done, nothing ahead of time, and that was some incredible stuff. (I can wait hear if you want to use the archive on the right to read the first six month. Summer 2011 was a good time for wine and shitty blogs.)

Everyone up to date? Good!

I would love to have some sort of excuse for my laziness, and I got nothing.

So lets throw the holidays under the bus.

Looking like a pretty good Christmas, beginning to shake a minor cold and have back to back 3 day weekends for Xmas and New Years.

I even allowed the barrista to shake a little cinnamon and pumpkin spice into my coffee, just to be festive.

So I am drinking Christmas today.

As long as Christmas tastes like coffee.

Mmmmmm coffee.

God bless us, everyone.

 
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Posted by on December 22, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

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