RSS

Tag Archives: sarcasm

The coming of Bridezilla

Bridezilla is a real thing.

You see that word and you envision a reality show, some over-indulged, moderately privileged bride snapping at people as she plans her wedding.

And then you are in Starbucks right now and you realize that the most over the top episode of Bridezilla is a best case scenario. 

Because she is here.

The bride to be.

Amber.

The name conjures a Britney Spears image. 

A pretty blonde with good teeth in suggestive clothing.

The suggestive clothing is there, and that is all.

In your head, replace Britney Spears with a chunkier Roseanne Barr with bad hair and a serious overbite.

Take a second and let that sink in. 

If a shudder just went down your back, understand that its just being described to you, I am actually here.

And her entry is epic and befitting the name Bridezilla.

The front door of Starbucks opens with a little too much force and in she comes, talking on her phone to Lorraine. (How do we know her name?)

“Because I’m the fucking bride, Lorraine!” 

The phone being an inch from her mouth did not stop her from yelling. Loud.

Is the situation made better or worse that Amber is about 6 months pregnant?

That is a rhetorical question.

And the argument could be made that it doesn’t make it worse, but it does add to the comedic value of the entire situation.

Also, call me old fashioned, but the soon to be mama should go easy on the caffeine.

A soy latte with a triple shot seems excessive. 

But she is drinking for two. 

To each his or her own.

Sure you risk low birth weight, but have you HAD a triple shot soy latte?

It’s divine.

Lets check the obscenity board while we have a moment.

Things Lorraine (Maid of Honor) has been called in the 2 minutes since Bridezilla came into our lives. 

Cunt 3 times. (To be specific, 1 cunt, 1 dumb cunt and 1 response of cunt when responding to what I believe was Lorraine objecting to being called a dumb cunt.)

The list will end here. It seemed like a great idea, and then it got entirely too sad when viewed as a societal comment of millennials in general. (Plus, Bridezilla is sitting next to me and I am in fear for my life that she will lean over and read this.)

So, after the longest 10 minutes of my recent life, during which a triple soy latte was guzzled, 6 petite vanilla bean scones and 1 Gogurt from her purse, Bridezilla got up and stomped her way out of our lives. 

I was going to make a joke about missing her already, but its a little late in the game to start lying to each other.

In parting, let me throw some wisdom your way. 

Call your mom, if you are married to the mother of your kids, kiss her, send a text if she is your ex-

And thank her, from the bottom of your heart.

For not being Bridezilla. 

(Unless she is, then you are just fucked, my friend.)

(And if she is Lorraine, dim the lights, get her a glass of wine and rub her feet. You’re fucked too, but in a different way. And if you can get me an invite to the wedding, I would consider it a solid. Thanks bro.)

 

The Caffeinated Humor Books – CLICK HERE

The PODCAST – CLICK HERE

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on November 24, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

The podcast is live!!!!

The Caffeinated Humor Podcast is Live!!!

Read and listen! The blog that does it ALL for you!

https://anchor.fm/caffeinatedhumor

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on October 28, 2019 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

My whore-like existence

The brilliance of this blog is a lot like an orgasm from a celibate man. It’s more than you expect, a little overwhelming and will most likely get you right between the eyes.

Like an intellectual money shot that gets in your eyes and blurs your vision for a moment.

FYI, some of these images are meant to be disturbing.

A little like a mental Rolfing that leaves you refreshed, but in a little or a lot of pain.

So, that being said, here is the wisdom.

Your shit is not that fucking important.

Before you dismiss that, think about it, not read it and sip your soy milk, 2 shot, caramel latte with cinnemon and sprinkles that you paid $6.99 no less, and actually think about it.

Let me define “Shit” for you.

Shit is a generic term with rude imagery for a purpose.

It denotes your politics, food choices, pets, children, religious beliefs, and anything not covered previously in this sentence.

Now for the other shoe.

Not that fucking important means Not that fucking important to anyone else.

This whole train of thought was brought on by some over the top statements on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram by some serious attention whoring drama queens that all make the same sad desperate “Look at me” statements.

If you like (Insert person, cause or belief) then unfriend me now. (Insert a whiny point of view usually based on poorly reported biased news.)

It wears on you after awhile.

One particularly stunning woman I know made this comment to anyone thinking about voting for a political candidate that they don’t like.

I didn’t unfriend her, but I did unfollow her, she is a fan of the blog. (I truly hope she reads this and understands that its nothing personal, but she is a dipshit. She also like to post lingerie pics that are worth seeing. Don’t judge me.)

Unfollowing is a good way of making sure that when I post, they get my post, but I don’t have to be bothered with their fleshy-headed bullshit any more than I have to.

At first glance, you might think there is a mean edge to this post, today.

Far from it.

This is more of the blogging version of tough love.

Like a stern parent or a tough cop, occasionally, I have to go upside your head to get your attention and change your perspective.

And, like all children of stern parents, you try to rebel, bitch about how harsh it is and then, years later, you realize how goddam right I am.

Your welcome.

And yet, there is also a seedy side to this.

Like I have said before, to achieve the pure innocence that I have, you have to travel just as far down other side of the scale so it all balances out.

And yet, I never rebelled against my parents.

I don’t view that as a weakness of character, especially when its the opposite.

You would have to know the absolute forces of nature I call mom and dad just to understand that synchronicity made total sense.

Mom is a total therapist, been a professional psychic for over half a century, and dad is the original man, a mechanic with a rock solid lock on how a man behaves in the world.

My gratitude for the luck of my birth and my parents is boundless.

And here we are.

I do not view their influence as having to do with the cruder side of this blog, that unfortunately, is all me.

I have taken what they gave me, and turned myself into some sort of sex worker in print.

You come here, once a week, do your business, avoid eye contact, then leave awkwardly.

You could at least leave the money on the dresser on your way out.

Or a cup of coffee.

Mmmmm coffee.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 12, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , ,

Are you talking to me?

Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.”

Nietzsche was a mentally twisted beast of a human being.

But, he did have a point.

I got an email. No big deal.

I get a lot of emails, mostly spam. (Viagra, rogain and life insurance. This should bother me more, not sure why it doesn’t.)

But, there is also a certain percentage of inevitable hate mail that this juvenile screed scares up on a regular basis, week in, week out, often by the same people.

And it rarely bothers me, mainly because I value very few opinions higher than my own.

And critics kind of rate at the bottom of that list.

But, every now and then someone pops up that truly has an intellect, expression, brilliance and puts down a scathing rebuked that throws me into the shit.

Who is this superior being? The erudite elitist that has that kind of clout?

Me.

Shit from pretty much everyone else is water off a ducks back.

But what happens when it comes from the duck?

And here is how it started.

Some jagoff sent me hatemail and said I was like a monster.

Didn’t call me a monster, said I was like a monster.

Probably a throw away line from this person that meant nothing.

I read it a few days ago, and don’t even recognize what it was that caused the twisting of the panties.

It came from one of those people that I get crap email from all the time.

But it struck a nerve, made me think.

Thinking is a lot like looking in a mirror.

And the last thing a monster wants is to look in the mirror.

There is that moment of recognition of being a monster, and that delayed hit of realizing that you didn’t start out this way.

The abyss of this blog has been staring into me long enough that it has changed my perspective.

I used to sit in the normal section and point out the funny shit over in the asshole seats.

Now? After almost 5 years and 600+ posts?

I live in the asshole section.

Hell, I am the mayor.

My filter is gone and what is spewing out of the pipes is some foul shit.

So be it.

The one thing that Nietzsche never figured out was this:

Being a monster doesn’t bother the monster.

He likes being a monster.

Its a lot like being an 800 pound gorilla with a big dick.

It intimidates a lot of people, and the ones it doesn’t are the only players of the game you are likely to find.

And these players will pick up the shit you throw out.

And throw it back.

And thats fun.

 
5 Comments

Posted by on May 6, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , ,

The naive 1% who care, but not really.

Stop trying to guilt me into doing something that will do ABSOLUTELY nothing to help someone else.

“99% of you will not share this…” This beautiful little slice of massive guilt is always contained somewhere within the message on Facebook, shared by some soft-headed prole who’s lemming-like instincts FORCED them to stab the “Share” button.

And the message is always some over the top, hideous tale that would make both Sarah McLachlan  and the dogs cry their eyes out.

The bulk of the message is some syrupy wretched tale of woe that is the stuff of nightmares.

But, half or three quarters of the way thru the poorly worded message is a guilt trip that would put a jewish mother to shame.

And, the demand is always the same.

“Please share this and get the word out. I know that 99% of you don’t have the heart, while the 1% who will actually care.”

Translation? “YOU ROTTEN GUILT FUCK!”

Now, and this really is the interesting part, clicking like or share does absolutely nothing for the particular wretch involved.

Even just spreading awareness it still does nothing in terms of forming a response.

It reminds me of the social media campaign to fight human trafficking.

It took picture of celebrities holding a sign that says “Real men don’t buy girls.” And put them on Facebook with the guilt-share demand.

Are we talking about hookers or slaves?

30 seconds of Google research later, it turns out that its both.

Children forced into prostitution and/or forced into porn or old school slavery, presumably out of the country.

An ugly business, but one that has only one certainty.

And that is, clicking “Share” will not help anyone. At all. Seriously. No fucking around here. Really. Like head-out-of-your-ass really.

And the use of Sean Penn as a deterrent is a little iffy at best.

I seem to remember an early interview with him in which he admitted to visiting prostitutes.

His sign should have read, “Real men don’t buy girls, ANYMORE.”

I am probably going to get sued for that one.

I am fine with that, he can have half of a penniless blog as a settlement.

I have been taking Muay Thai and Judo to prepare for his attacking me on the street.

I figure if he is willing to swing at photographers that get too close, he would be more than willing to beat me like a rented mule for outright slander.

Rumor has it that Madonna got into kickboxing shortly after the divorce.

But, that is the problem with the empty headed idiocy of social media.

People can get the emotional quick fix of thinking they are involved and doing something, all the while not doing a damn thing that will actually help.

Like the sex trafficking issue.

The people, mainly men, who engage in that industry, from John’s buying quick time in a gas station bathroom, to the serious slave traders, could care less than a shit about what you think of them.
The people who sell other people understand money and guns and that is pretty much it.

A pimp is never a timid person, easily swayed by public opinion and the slave traders are down right brutal.

The bottom line is, if you want to get involved, get off your ass.

If not, quit making an ass out of yourself by pretending you are.

Some of us are sick of this shit.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on August 8, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Occupy some soap, hippie.

We all have a little masochist in us.

It all depends on what your particular choice of whip is.

I currently have a thing going with an odd combination of Judo and popcorn.

Long story, one beats you up from the outside, the other from deep inside your bowels.

But this isn’t about me.

This is the story of Icarus and Beyonce.

You may ask why I chose those names.

Because I have been sitting next to them for the last half hour and I can think of no better names for them.

Icarus is a suffering artist.

However, lets adjust our definitions of suffering, shall we?

The iPhone 5S on the table in front of him is in a case that I know for a fact costs about $200.

Sitting next to them is a keyring with a Mercedes smart key.

And he is whining like a bitch in heat non-stop about how his parents don’t take him seriously.

He appears to be in his late 20’s.

You figure if they aren’t going to take him serious by now, give it up, they aren’t going to.

Like a set of fake wings, this no real ambition, no talent, overly entitled little shit is expecting to fuck around for his whole life, then magically wake up some morning and the world will prostrate itself at his feet in recognition of…what? (Ok, so the Icarus imagery is pretty weak, but it remains a solid shitty nickname, I hate him already.)

Good question, lets get back to that later.

And then theres Beyonce.

She has ridiculously high maintenance bitch written all over her.

And, judging by her self-absorbed ramblings the entire time Ikarus has been going thru his period, it hasn’t pulled her away from her true vocation, worshiping herself.

She may even be more talented than the real Beyonce, the original no-talent golden calf the media has been shoving down our throats ever since she fired the girls in Destiny’s Child for not being named Beyonce.

Wow. Even I am impressed by the pissy angst in that little sentence.

Icarus is beginning to rub off on me.

I need to get out of here before Beyonce rubs off on me.

Add her diva attitude to my mouth and someone would kill me inside of an hour.

I am enough of an ass, I don’t need the help.

Back to the kids.

I am beginning to see a theme to the bitching.

As near as I can figure, it has something to do with corporations keeping him from getting a gallery show for his art.

Occupy Starbucks.

Christ, not this shit again, like this couple wasn’t worthless enough.

As you may be able to tell if you’ve been paying attention, I don’t view the Occupy movement with any sort of respect.

Mainly because I don’t respect that “unwashed welfare takes a holiday”.

But that is a story for another time.

 
Leave a comment

Posted by on March 7, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

If you can’t say anything nice, blog about it.

I have written and deleted 4 different takes on the same subject and I can’t seem to finish the piece without it being the type of thing that would burn a lot of bridges.

Not just burn them, but nuke them, salt the earth, and leave it irradiated for eons.

Divorce, relationships, work, family, blogging…etc.

And some of these bridges I still need access to.

So, rather than let it go and forget about it, (Something I NEVER do.) I will just backburner the subject until I can do it without the “Scorched earth” result, or situations change and I no longer give a shit about the outcome. (And that is a dangerous frame of mind.)

So here is something different.

5 different reactions for the same thing.

The last blog post stirred up some “Stuff” for lack of a better word with a lot of you.

Since the preferred method of whining and bitching at me seems to be the anonymous email (You cowardly pieces of shit), I will address those first.

Response #1: First off, its ridiculous to declare yourself an “Ardent feminist” and claim you read the blog regularly. Either you are lying thru your teeth, mainly because no Feminist, ardent or not, would read this misogynistic swill without putting a hit out on me. Which means you are a wannabe ardent feminist. That is pathetic. Its like wanting to be known as the snappiest dresser in special ed. Bite me.

Response #2: You said in your email “While I am not a teacher” blah blah frickin blah. Therefore, you are not qualified to tell me what tense I am using, correct or otherwise. This is sadder than the wannabe ardent feminist issue. Your email was fairly grammatically correct and was as boring as cat shit on the sidewalk. Bite me.

Response #3: I am aware of the fact that Jesus loves me. However, if you are under the impression that the Almighty has an issue with this post or any previous posts, you are sadly mistaken. The Almighty not only gets me, he thinks I am a hysterical genius. One of his finer creations. (My mother said so.)

Response #4 Asking me to post something about your favorite charity tells me that you have so little respect for not just me, but anyone you send that poorly written email to, that you haven’t even taken the time to read the blog. If it doesn’t fit the subject matter or flavor of the blog, it will have the opposite effect of driving people away from your charity. Just showing it to people does not magically fix it. I was a salesman long enough to know that, with the proper presentation, you can sell anything to people. Especially ideas.

Response #5 My mother is right and I am deeply ashamed and sorry for scribbling this rubbish. Love you, mommy.

As time goes on, I have come to really enjoy and even look forward to the anonymous emails. Even if you are a pack of whiny pussies.

Let me leave you with this oft-time repeated reply to criticism.

Bite me.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on November 15, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,