Just Takin' A Break Is All

Gimme a Break Yeah Yeah! Gimme a Break, Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah!!
Now I am no Nell Carter, but even I deserve a break... right?
If I was a big fat ass black chick... or the star of an awesome eighties sitcom about a big fat ass black chick...
I would take breaks all the time... asshole.
Unfortunately, I am not a big fat ass black chick with her own eighties sitcom...
I'm just Randall James Sharpe and this is my thang so I probably should not be takin' a break...
Especially a sweet ass break soaked in booze and boobies, cause what the hell does that have to do with Nell Carter and awesome eighties sitcoms?
Fuck if I know, but if you ask the bottle of Jim Beam I drank tonight he would most certainly tell you that this had something to do with listening to The Black Angels and pounding Beam like I was Jim Morrison...
Look, here's the deal I am super talented and shit and if I had been a big fat ass black chick with her own eighties sitcom and my name was Nell Carter; my awesome eighties sitcom would still be on and I would be bigger than Tyler Fuckin (pretty sure that is his middle name) Perry...
Sabbatical over...

How To Survive in Florida

Survival... Florida... A place like no other in this great land (but not Target Greatland... I love that place...) we call the US of Aye. To survive in this "Florida" takes some serious cajones (that's Mexican for balls) and talent... loads of talent. To make it here you need to become one with the local inhabitants, so here are a few tips to help you camouflage yourself like a Floridian.

Sunscreen. Throw that shit out, you don't need it. Moles are what you need, big, discolored, oddly shaped moles covering your leathery, wrinkled face. I would get to work on this right away if I were you.

Smokes. Gotta have smokes, preferably Pall Mall, GPC or some other shit brand you can procure at the Haji Mart across the street. Smoker voice is kind of a big deal in these parts (especially women...very sexy), now get to puffing.

Dew. Yep Mountain Fuckin' Dew. Get some, it doesn't matter if it's Code Red, PURPLE or whatever color, just start pounding that shit day and night; you got teeth to soften up.

Hammer. You're gonna need a hammer to knock out the teeth that you have been softening up with the Dew. Hopefully they just fall out and you won't have to smash too hard; make sure you leave one or two though... don't wanna overdo it.

Pills. You are now in need of Scripts to counter all of that pain in your mouth. I suggest oxy-whatevers, you can get them anywhere and your new friends in the trailer park will love you for sharing.

Disability. Get on that shit! Why the hell would you wanna work when you got all that Dew to drink, cigs to smoke and pills to pop? Makes my back hurt just thinkin' about it.

Six Pack. The Haji Mart across the street is always running specials on 211 or Meister Brau Ice or some kinda cheap ass beer; so get over there it's almost 9:00 a.m. for Christ's sake!

Now sit back in your white plastic chair, soak up some rays and enjoy the fruits of your labor... you've earned it!

America Fuck Yeah!!!!

Twelve months.

Twelve fucking months.

Osama Bin Laden, DEAD.

Muammar Gaddafi, DEAD

Kim Jong Il, DEAD

The foes of the American way of life are dropping like flies, but there is much work to be done...

Kim Kar D'Shian, ALIVE.

Alive and stinking up the airways of freedom loving Americans.

Solution: Drop her in Mogadishu and allow her to procure a virulent strain of Aids that can end her tele-terrorism.

Barack Obama, ALIVE.

Making promises and writing checks from a "borrowed" (I have alerted local law enforcement) American checkbook.

Solution: Spray Axe Deodorant Body Spray to diminish the B.O. below recognizable levels until the next election... when we elect a new piece of shit with a pen.

The NBA, ALIVE.

Greedy, overpaid, under-educated entertainers. Barnum would have paid them in fish heads... if that.

Solution: Shut the fuckers down, nobody gives a shit anymore, Americans with tangible skills are unemployed and these self serving fuck-sticks are going back to work...WHAT THE FUCK?

America the job is only half done, the time has come to battle our domestic terrorists; we are bringing home "The Troops" from the embattled Middle East to a home-front of joblessness, reality television and subsidized professional sports.

I say re-deploy the boys to wherever the hell a Kar D'Shian is and take 'em out.

Make a defensive wall around "America's" checkbook and hire some CPA'S to balance the damn thing.

Lastly, go ahead and dispose of Kobe, Dwayne, Lebron and all the rest of CB4. These "Americans" have no clue what the rest of us have been through and how dare they play "poor me" on the heart strings of the working class that have paid their salaries and supported their extravagant lifestyles. 

There is something called the PBR on Versus Network and that shit is badass!

America... Fuck Yeah... Now get your head out of your fucking ass and do this shit!

Florida is Lovely This Time of Year

The temperature has now dropped to 40 some odd degrees here in South Central Florida and would you believe that all of the damn alligators are still alive? This is total bullshit! This has completely fucked up my plans for the day.

Florida has a plethora of less than useful wildlife of which the alligator is included, I for one hate all of them and wouldn't mind taking a napalm frag to this whole damn flea-ridden place; mind you that would end the glory that is I; then what would you do on a chilly Friday morning in December? Work? This is America none of you actually work, get over yourselves... assholes.

The Sunshine State, or so it has been called, is less a "wonderland," (that's what my body is) and more of an ancient tar pit luring us slow moving mastodons to the promise of relaxation and the quenching of our thirsts. All the while a boiling cauldron of shit is hiding just below the surface ready to entomb us for eternity (or at least until some future archaeologist comes along and digs me up and says "What the fuck is this?" "Looks like an extinct race of sub-human encased in shit." "He appears (they know I'm a male because of my fossilized dick-bone) to be entangled (from battling) with an alligator, a shark, 13 fleas, 6 cockroaches and a 1993 Cadillac Seville driven by an elderly woman wearing broken glasses and a blue wig?" 

Very little useful information will be disseminated from the discovery of my twisted corpse, because future man will be so traumatized by finding his evolutionary link in such a state that they will just blow up whatever the hell is still left of Florida (by then most of it will be back under water, where it belongs) in an attempt to erase their shame.

This stretch of sun blanched atoll is better left to all the worthless animals that have made their way here. Things migrate to Florida to die. The elderly, white trash, alligators; all completely useless and just biding the time that they have left on a little strip of land soon to be reclaimed by the depths.
Florida is lovely this time of year!

What Are You Thankful For?

Hey, it's Thanksgiving so we are all supposed to share what we are thankful for, here is some shit that I may or may not be grateful for.

Spice Racks, you put shit on 'em so you look like you know how to cook.

Boobs, they really fill out that shirt.

Sunglasses, especially over-sized ones that hide how jacked up your face actually is and you look kinda cute when they are on, but then you take 'em off and I wanna kick you in your mouth gape.

Turn Signals, I live in Florida,what the fuck are those?

Screen Doors, but just the one I forgot I closed about thirty seconds ago and then walked into on my return trip. I love doing that shit.

Tacos, they're good.

Support Hose, all the old birds down here wear 'em, but what are they supporting?

Quarks, sub atomic particles are bullshit.

Cows, I'm from Wisconsin, fuck you.

I could make a list about thirty three yards long if I keep going, but instead I'm gonna drink my face off and try to get laid.

Your Welcome.

Next Time Call the Super Friends

Politics.
Economy.
The Economy of Politics?
The Politics of Economy?
Super Committee.
Super Friends.
The Committee of Super Friends?
The Super Committee of Friends?
Budget.
Balance.
The Balancing of Budget?
The Budgeting of Balance?
Words.
Bullshit.
If you put all of these words together and spend billions of taxpayer dollars to fund committees or friends or whatever the hell just happened, that is exactly what you get... Bullshit and Words.
Thank You Bi-Partisan Super Think Tank for tanking what we thought was a potential Balancing of our economic woes.
Just Kidding.
Those of us "in the know" realize that the whirlpool of American politics is just a distraction used to secretly "employ" the power of "The Super Friends" (classic DC comic book/cartoon series in which the greatest super heroes were brought together to foil the schemes of evil) in clandestine operations around the globe in our never ending battle against "The Legion of Doom," DAMMIT I meant terrorism! Economies come and go, but super heroes are forever!
Next time you want to repair our massive budget deficit that "somehow" was exacerbated by frivolous expansions in spending and approvals of "necessary" party ideals remember that many non involved "lay about's" are willing to take "occupancy" of your lost initiatives and claim victory in the name of their "cause."
To resolve this issue Dial 1-900-MIX-ALOT (that is the secret number that only super heroes know) and kick them nasty thoughts.
Seriously, Super Committee?
What a crock of shit.

Sorry About That, I Was Drunk...

Sorry about that last little tongue lashing, I had very little to do with it, but that's the way the cookie (hopefully its a Milano... I love those things) crumbles. I was, needless to say, a tad bit annoyed fifteen minutes ago, but have had some time for inner reflection and feel prepared to share my prior frustration with ya'll. Maybe it had something to do with me being back on the "proverbial" (have you read that book... the old testament is fucked up, I guess drinking is wrong? Whatever.) sauce, or it could have been the complete lack of responsible interest by the American public in pursuing knowledge of the world that is actually determining our current course of action. Truth be told I am completely flaburgasted (How the hell do you spell that?) by our headlines.
Big fucking deal some kid can sing and used to be homeless! Are you aware that the entire Western economy is crumbling in the face of defaulting, tourist euro economies? Does anyone care?
The Earth is in another state of ecological upheaval and is unleashing her fury upon the nation of Alaska and once again in the Autonomous Muslim Nation of Turkey (the country, not the nearly flightless delicious bird of Thanksgiving fame... I love you flightless bird, see you in a few days).
Fine, I mentioned the asteroid that is passing this wonderful spinning globe of a planet by a mere 200,000 or so miles. Wouldn't you assume that an object coming within our orbit and having potential negative impact upon our existence would be mildly interesting to the masses?
It isn't, neither is anything else worth knowing, so the time has arrived to admit that knowledge is dead, Justin Beiber  is the most important "thingy" ever and some other stupid shit that soon to be college grads find imperative to their social survival are what makes this life go round, go round?
Whatever.