Twitter Conversation Today

Today for the Browns/Vikings game Bob and I will be having a conversation via Twitter. Being in different cities we never get to watch football together anymore, so we figured we would try this and see if it's any fun. If you happen to happen to follow me (boxdp) on Twitter, make sure you're following udbw2 as well so you get the full conversation. I'm curious how the format will work out for this, so no promises. If this goes well we will probably continue it throughout the season, likely focusing on Sunday night and Monday night games. I really didn't want to try this out on a Browns game, but the opportunity to make a whole bunch of cheap Brett Favre age jokes was too tempting to pass up.

More Excuses

Rather than just pretending like I was going to post more I have actually been preparing to do it, mainly by taking amusing pictures and planning the words that would accompany them. Unfortunately, somehow I managed to delete not only all of the pictures on my phone but most of the phone software itself, and the resulting firmware upgrade very effectively killed anything that remained. Long story short, my incompetence has cost you several pictures. Too bad too, there were some real doozies in there. Since even I'm not a big enough slacker to make a post specifically about why there isn't a better post in its place, I'll tell you a short story as long as you're here.

Last week I was bartending on Saturday, and when I got done I decided to enjoy the nice weather and good company, and sit outside with a beer. Before doing that, I had the good sense to make use of the restroom, as I had been holding in what felt like a sizable dump for most of the afternoon. After waddling my way to the can, I sat down and started to push, and let me tell you, this was a big one. I struggled and strained and gripped the bowl and everything, this turd was a monster. After finally fighting the good fight to the finish and feeling like I had stretched my anus almost to the breaking point, by natural next step was to look into the bowl and stare down the opponent I had bested. Imagine my surprise when all I saw was a small little pile of rabbit turds. The following is verbatim the first two thoughts that came to my mind:

"Seriously? My asshole is so tight that those tiny things felt like they were doing to break me?"

"Wow, I would be really popular in prison"

The Sad Fate of the Fraggles

As often happens when I'm supposed to be doing something productive, my mind wanders off. Thanks to instant messaging, when my mind wanders it is able to meet up with other, similarly bored minds and they can romp and play together. The following conversation between Ray and I few weeks back really shows just how bad this sort of thing can turn out. Oh, and in the future I promise to try and post something more often than every 4 months. Incidentally, I now have 80 days of unmarried life left.

(NOTE: I know I screwed up at least one of the Fraggle names. Feel free to correct me if you want to be a total dick).

Dave: Ok, so picture this
Ray: ok .. in picture this mode ...
Dave: you're on the set of Fraggle Rock
Ray: gotcha ...
Ray: so ... i'm eating doozer bridges with impunity? ...
Dave: it's late, tensions on the the set are high as they record the intro song for the 100th time
Dave: Wembley has had enough, he's ready to go home, and the director just yelled at him, so he's in an exceptionally bad mood
Dave: as the theme song ends and the camera cuts to him, he takes the opportunity to replace his finishing line "Down in Fraggle Rock" by looking at the director and screaming "Suck my Fraggle cock!!!"
Ray: at which point jim henson flies into a homicidal rage, killing several doozers on his mad romp across the set to deliver a severe beat down on wembley ...
Ray: meanwhile boober slips off to the dressing room to drown his sorrows in a fifth of jack and several pounds of radishes ... eventually hanging himself due to his deep, severe, unchecked and often ignored depression ...
Ray: eventually wembley bleeds out on set ... due to the fact that the paramedics fail to fit down the fraggle hole
Dave: The show goes bust, and Fraggles fill the unemployment offices. The economy dries up. Gorg carcases line the streets
Dave: It's impossible to go out at night; Sprocket controls the streets now. With the old man now just a pile of bleached bones, he has developed a taste for Fraggle meat
Ray: Uncle Traveling Matt, who had been considered "In the wind", was found dead later that week, in what can only be described as a doozer deal gone bad.
Dave: With Wembley dead, thieves raided his stash of Woopie Water, and began a savage bootlegging operation
Ray: As the woopie water bootlegging operation continued to gain in size, so too did the fraggle sex trade. As lawlessness continued to run rampant, Mokey and Red were sold into sexual muppet slavery.
Dave: Hardened by a life of bootlegging, famine and sloppy muppet blowjobs, Gobo emerges as king of their subterranian hell
Ray: submachine gun in hand, gobo makes he last stand against the federal pig dogs, shucking off his mortal coil in a hail of gunfire and profanity.

I'm guessing this is a pretty accurate picture of how it all went down.