As you all may or may not know I have no idea what to do with my life. I’m constantly thinking that this is “temporary” or “I’ll get to it” or “I’d like to that right after I find my list of nine million other things I thought I wanted to do”.

And with “keeping the faith” of being directionally challenged, morally confused and ignorant to opportunity I like to believe the “spirit world” will guide me and take care of all my decisions for me, (like taking a crossbow bolt in the mid-thigh. Thanks spirit world!).

So I’m always looking for a sign, an easy avenue, a no-brainer to take me to the nirvana I’ve sought my whole life. I always believed it’d be in the form of a ghost, flash of celestial light, happenstance or something so powerful that it would make my legs weak and I would fall to the ground crying and singing in tongue, (like taking a crossbow bolt in the mid-thigh. Thanks spirit world!).

Little did I know that the sign that would come would actually be a sign, a cardboard sign written in black, permanent marker to be more exact. A sign reading, “Opportunities in Real Estate” followed by a number. How could it be anymore clear?

Here I am driving home from work, drifting off in thoughts of violently and sexually assaulting my boss with splintering broom handles and as I take the off ramp from the highway I see this sign…

I don’t have to tell you that any hand made sign on the side of the highway off ramp is not only genius, but immediately trustworthy. It’s handcrafted and that means the person cared.

I called up the number and left my credit card number on the message machine. I’m very excited to find out what happens next. I’ll let you know and keep your fingers crossed.

Isn’t this exciting?

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

—Riddle Me Rooster—

Tonight’s riddle:

What do sea monsters eat?

Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!

This is going seem far out, but I’ve just been shot in the leg with a crossbow bolt and I need to go lay down for a minute… or is it “walk it off”?

I’ll have to return tomorrow to throw down with y’all.

I know some of you, (Scott) are dying for the riddle answer, and I couldn’t leave my faithful friends hanging, so here it is…

Antarctica!

Go ahead and hit the bar, start a tab and I’ll pay when I get there, (after I get this bolt out of my leg).

Egg On,

Ramblin’ Rooster

This is going seem far out, but I’ve just been shot in the leg with a crossbow bolt and I need to go lay down for a minute… or is it “walk it off”?

I’ll have to return tomorrow to throw down with y’all.

I know some of you, (Scott) are dying for the riddle answer, and I couldn’t leave my faithful friends hanging, so here it is…

Antarctica!

Go ahead and hit the bar, start a tab and I’ll pay when I get there, (after I get this bolt out of my leg).

Egg On,

Ramblin’ Rooster

This weekend I went to visit my “career alcoholic” best friend. The thing I love most about hanging out with drunken people is their ability to say, “Yes” to anything you ask them with no hesitation or thought process at all.

Here’s an example, “Hey, can we take your lawn chairs and play basketball with them?” “Uheeesss…” “Is that a yes?” “Uhesssss”.

Game on!

Sadly the game ended in a one to one tie. All the chairs were broken before a winner could be decided.

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

—Riddle Me Rooster—

The answer to last weeks riddle was “Parked Cars”

The winner is Clott Lion Ogltameins. Please enjoy your prize, which this week is a sack of jelly beans that I found in the garage at my “career alcoholic’s” house.

Tonight’s riddle:

What is the largest ant in the world?

Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!

Please note this is not a review of the 1997 adult film.

This week I was driving around the outskirts of my hometown. All of a sudden I blew a tire out on my car. Whoa, talk about scary! I was driving with my knee trying to roll a doobie while reaching into the back seat to get another beer, so it was kind of hard to keep control of the vehicle.

I got out and surveyed the tire. I went to the trunk to get the spare when I realized that I had removed the spare in order to make room for my custom woofer-box that pumps 440,000 watts through 118 speakers. Yes, it is worth it even in this unfortunate incident. [Note to self: put spare tire in back seat.]

Oh well, I thought. I’ll just hoof it to the nearest gas station and call a tow truck. This thought came after the realization that I had placed my cell phone on the roof of the car when I left the strip club to pick my mom up for her doctor’s appointment. [Note to self: replace cell phone.]

Not knowing where a gas station is, because my car runs on banana peels and soles from Chuck Taylor’s, I started off in a random direction, which lead me to a giant hill.

After climbing the six foot, three strand barb wire fence, clearly marked, “Do Not Enter”, I climbed to the top of this great peak. Once atop the mountain I saw a great valley filled with seagulls. Which I thought was very interesting since I live 22,000 miles from any body of water.

What was even more interesting was the large dump truck looking vehicles and bulldozers. My guess is that they were preparing the grounds of what I believed to be some kind of Midwest seagull sanctuary.

It really looked like their work was cut out for them too, because the ground was covered in plastic and refuse. I thought this was an odd place for a bird sanctuary, but the seagulls certainly didn’t mind. They appeared to be in hog heaven. They didn’t even seem to be afraid of the bulldozers.

I sat down on the top of the hill and just breathed in the wonderment of man and nature blending together so well, so harmonious, so loving. It really is a wonderful world we live in.

If you would like to donate to the Midwest seagull sanctuary, please send your check or money order to the Walcomb county waste management department. [Note to self: Write letter asking why they’d call the bird sanctuary a land fill.]

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

—Riddle Me Rooster—

The answer to last weeks riddle was “Anything you want, he can’t hear you with fingers in his ears”. What’s with all the booing?

As always, everyone’s a winner because I enjoy your response so much. Enjoy another week of peanut butter covered orgy fun in Costa Rica on me!

Tonight’s riddle:

What do lazy dogs chase?

Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!

The other day I was installing a sky light in my darkroom and I started thinking about sweet nothings. What I thought was, “What the hell is a sweet nothing?” I imagine they’re something like:

“My heart forever together loving touches precious.”

OR

“Lovely silk caress hair flowing skin bright eyes heat.”

I mean really what bigger oxymoron is there than “sweet nothing”, why do they exist and who wants them?

After I installed my retractable awning in my living room I received a call from my neighbor to ask me to stop mowing my shag carpet so late at night. After a heated conversation I hung up. After I use my phone I always wipe clean the screen. I’ve noticed a lot of people wiping their phones when their done, since most all phones have a rather large screen as their face plate.

I looked at me phone before I wiped it clean and took notice of how greasy it was. Is my ear that greasy I thought? What does my ear do to get so dirty? So I decided to do a little experiment.

I cut off a sliver of my ear and threw it in a frying pan. Sure enough no food I fired stuck to my skillet. On a negative note all of my dinner guests died with clogged arteries.

My point in all of this is that I will no longer nibble, lick, bite, kiss and whisper in anyone’s ear ever again since I now know that ears are the dirtiest, greasiest things in the world.

Thanks cell phone world for educating me in the filthiness of the ear and ruining all the sweet nothings I could have hoped to share with the world. “World butt massage rubbing thigh lips down hole.” Know what I’m saying? Me neither.

Throw another ear in the frying pan, I need some comfort sausages.

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

—Riddle Me Rooster—

The answer to last weeks riddle was “Towel”, too easy, huh?

Claire didn’t even log in a guess, what the hell?!?! The prize goes to Scott for his correct answer. The prize? A year’s supply of Jif peanut butter and two tickets to Costa Rica, (on the condition that he has to take CLT for his amazing wrong, but so right answer. That’s what happens when Claire doesn’t play). Wait Claire just chimed in, not with a correct answer, but since she is the reigning champ I’m throwing in a third ticket. Have fun with that peanut butter!

Tonight’s riddle:

What do you call a homeless man with a finger in each ear?

Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!

I’ve never been one to play religion, nor have I ever worried where my soul was going to magically transcend to after I got hit by a bus. Things were all fine and well until I innocently waltz into a ‘Gassy Sip’ thinking I was there for concession.

After making a delicious, refreshing and moderately priced, custom flavored 32 ounce beverage I went to the counter to pay. “Can I get a pack of Tar Picks” I asked. Why not, cigarettes go great with soda pop.

“That’ll be $6.66” the eleven year old clerk told me. I did a spit take, (except I had no liquid in my mouth which really killed the effect). It was then I noticed his eyes. They were glowing red and smoke came from his nostrils, like the bull from ‘Looney Tunes’.

I’ll admit I was more than a little freaked out, but two cigarettes later, I had forgotten the whole thing like a girl’s name whom was nice enough to let you “violate her” in the men’s room.

Thing of it is, six weeks have passed and I’ve been compelled to do evil. I’ve stopped picking up my paper wad mini-basketballs that miss the trash can. I drop my aluminum can in the “Plastic Only” containers. I spit off of buildings onto busy streets. I’ve stopped tipping. I’ve sent several subscriptions of ‘PlayGirl’ to my dad and a whole lot of other bad, bad, bad stuff.

Since then I’ve been frequenting the ‘Gassy Sip’ trying to buy things that will equal $7.77, but I can’t seem to make it happen no matter how hard I try. I just know that if I find God in the receipt, like I picked up Satan, the curse will be broken and I can go back to being an average evil person, (on occasion).

Please offer up any solutions you might have.

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

—Riddle Me Rooster—

The answer to last weeks riddle was “Because it was necessary for climatic ending”, (no just kidding, it was “Because he wouldn’t fit in the elevator”).

Claire wins of course, but since everyone’s answers were so funny and fun I’m taking everyone to ‘Gassy Sip’ for corndogs and energy drinks.

Tonight’s riddle:

What gets wetter the more it dries?

Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!

Humans, they’re weird and by weird, I mean they don’t make sense. The ego is not a hidden beast waiting in the shadows to pounce on your subconscious while you sleep. It is the scream of the wild, the elusive desire to kill, the wish of power that rings in your ears as you taste blood. What?

Make no mistake; in this life we’ve all had a fair amount of relationships. Be them platonic, be them romantic or be them somewhere in between leaving each person confused and slightly damaged.

I have had people come and go quite a bit in my life. (Is it me?) I have never had a reservation letting someone know that I didn’t/don’t like them. I’ve never felt bad for not liking someone or thinking badly or lowly of them. I’ve never thought it was wrong to dislike another person. “You can’t please all the people all the time and not everyone responds the same way to verbal violence.”

Now, when the news comes to me that someone whom I liked or revered as a friend utters words of discontent or rather strong language like, “You’re corrosive to life” or “The putrescence and squalor is revolting and poisoning” or “When I said I’ll see you later I meant like five, ten, fifteen years later… maybe never.” It hurts.

I want to feel free to hate whomever I choose, but be loved by all. Is that really too much to ask? It’s not like I want to be president or something.

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

—Riddle Me Rooster—

The answer to last weeks riddle was “One Cent”

CLT mentioned scent, but locked in with Cheetah, which spelled backwards is Hateehc, translated from Blovokian means, “the green smell” which is close enough. Congratulations CLT, you win a life supply of ‘Handy Bags’.

Tonight’s riddle:

Why did King Kong climb to the top of the Empire State Building?

Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!

Fingers are amazing. Apparently they’re the only thing that separates us from amoeba. I like fingers ‘cause they’re so expressive. People can hold entire conversations with them, (which unfortunately doesn’t stop them from also talking). Fingers help us break through the language barrier. There are so many international signs and symbols that everyone understands, (except for those too uncivilized to understand and they are excused. Example: If you wear a loin cloth I don’t expect you to “call me” when I do the “finger phone” to my ear).

You can really tell a lot about a person by their finger gestures. I always judge men on how manly they are by one single hand gesture, being the finger “gun”.

If a guy does the “gun” symbol with his hand and only extends his first finger you can immediate assume the following, He is:

Gay

Afraid of spiders

Won’t help you change the brakes on your ’84 Ford F-150

Cheats on his taxes

Someone who will borrow your weed wacker and won’t return it until you go over and ask for it back

Now if a guy uses his first and middle finger, you can assume the following, He is:

Gay

Afraid of little dogs that bark incessantly

Overcompensating

Wears leather pants on the weekend

Has never tasted, yet claims to love sushi

Don’t forget, if either of the finger “gun” wielders actually pulls the “thumb” trigger, this is an act of aggression and affords you the right to immediate start kicking his ass. IF they make a gun sound such as bang, boom, kapow, etc. you can kill him in self-defense.

If a woman gives you the finger “gun”, make no mistake, she has a penis.

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

—Riddle Me Rooster—

The answer to last weeks riddle was “Holes”

Claire is the only one who answered, except for CLT who is a week behind, (which is actually genius for always being right) so even though her answer was wrong is was witty, so chalk up another win for Claire.

Tonight’s riddle:

How much is a skunk worth?

Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!

The other day I heard a commercial for customizing your coffin. You can get custom printed liners or go with existing logos, like the Yankees’ or the Raiders emblems. (I don’t know about College teams, so please stop calling me.) It took a moment for it to all sink in. I think it was three or four commercials past before I literally asked the Holy Ghost, WTF?

I couldn’t agree more with Al Czervik more when he said, “Two biggest wastes of real estate, golf courses and cemeteries.” I can’t think of anything more self serving and egocentric than a grave. Now add $50k for services and you’ve made it criminal.

I remember when my brother died; we burned him and threw the ashes in his wife’s face. I think my dad might have whispered, “sorry” or something.

Why does everyone have to customize everything they own? I walked by a subordinates computer last week and the command line was bright, neon-green for fvck sakes!

Having special hubcaps on your car doesn’t make you unique. Changing factory settings on your phone doesn’t make you special. Rearranging the icons on your iPod doesn’t make you an individual.

Don’t forget, “Everyone’s special in their own way”. Whatever!

If I was an undertaker, and I got a die-hard, (literally) Yankees’ fan asking for a Yankees’ themed casket, I’d cover it in Red Sox memorabilia.

What can I say, I’m a people person.

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

—Riddle Me Rooster—

The answer to last weeks riddle was “Cheetah”

Claire actually gave the answer in her response, (exactly ten words before typing “I give up”. Well, I don’t believe in quitting, so Claire, good news, you have your trophy back.

Tonight’s riddle:

What can you put in a box that makes it lighter?

Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!

Happy Labor Day! I’m not sure what Labor Day is about or what the proper words are to express the honor, which is displayed in the form of joy that we all share in not working on Monday, (except those working on construction projects and the majority of those in retail sales).

Is Labor Day synonymous with drinking? I have several friends that would tell me yes, but then again they’d say that drinking is synonymous with the sun coming up. So what’s that tell you?

This weekend I hung out with some of those old friends of mine. When I say old friends, I mean the kind that are so old that when you’re together you do nothing more than remind each other of all the ridiculous and crazy stuff you have on each other, ‘cause you can’t possibly remember yourself. For some reason drinking stories always seem to surface and be the most in abundance.

I’m not a drinker. I’m what alcoholics call “sober” or what teenagers call “a pussy”. I don’t have medical evidence to back it up, but I’m fairly certain that I have an allergy to alcohol, because most of the time when I consume it, it comes back up.

There are a lot of wonderful stories starring yours truly, a lot of passing out in the neighbor’s lawn, on the porch, in closets, in the trunk of my own car, etc. As such, there are also a lot of disgusting stories with me having the major role in “Vomit Gone Wild”. Some examples would be vomiting in bed, in cars, on my shoes, on other people and in the punch bowl and grandma’s 87^th birthday party. They’re all wonderful, but there was one story that seemed to sparkle just a little brighter than the rest.

I was told of the time that I was drinking at a friend’s tiny apartment. When I say tiny, I’m talking 100 square feet tiny. The bathroom door opened inwards to an incredibly small bathroom. So small in fact that the door didn’t even fully open as it was stopped by the sink cabinet.

Apparently, as the story goes, we were all sitting around drinking on Labor Day Eve, celebrating the fact we didn’t have to get up early and once again I consumed passed my limit. I got up and went into the bathroom to spend a little quality time with the toilet. After purging the demons from my body I got up to leave and passed out. My friends, whom I sure were extremely concerned, came to the bathroom to investigate the “thump”. When they tried to open the door they were unsuccessful as I had managed to lose consciousness between the door and the sink. No matter how hard they tried to open the door they couldn’t because of my pesky breathing corpse being the world’s largest door stop.

At first it was rather funny to them all, until the urge to urinate became prevalent. After trying to revive me by ramming and kicking the door, screaming at me and squeezing a hand through and shooting me with a water gun, they gave up and took turns peeing in the kitchen sink for the remainder of the evening. Not too shabby.

Do you have a better story than that? Let’s hear it and all laugh.

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

—Riddle Me Rooster—

The answer to last weeks riddle was “At lunch it goes back for seconds”

No one guessed, so I’ll be taking myself to the bar for drinks.

Tonight’s riddle:

What animal should you never play cards with?

Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!