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Archive for May 2009

The Perfect Margarita

with 12 comments

If there is one thing I know, it’s people. I’m what you call a real people person. I’ve been searching for that something that brings people together and unites them in a universal passion. For a while I thought it was topless bars, but that seemed to exclude a lot of chicks, man. What I now know to be true, and ironically can still involve exposed breasts, is alcohol. People love to get drunk, (or at least try). That’s why tonight, while attending a welcome home party for my friend who just got out of jail for his fifth DUI offensive, I’ll be giving you the perfect margarita mix recipe via my laptop.


In a blender combine the following:


Hey Jill can you hand me that lime? Thanks.


1 part vermouth


Whoa, wrong bottle. Hey Jill can you hand me that tequila bottle over there and take this one? Wait, let me take a nip real quick. Wow, that’s kind of sweet, like wine.


1 part tequila, (one shot for me)


Cut a lime in half and squeeze… damn it! Jill can you get me another lime?


Cut a lemon in half and squeeze both ends it into the blender, making sure no seeds get in there.


Oh thanks, Jill. Cut a lime in half and follow the directions for the lemon.


Now I like to add two tablespoons of sugar and… What, why are you yelling at me? What do you mean that’s not sugar? Oh, really? That’s uh… gonna certainly change things.


Um… OK, let’s see…


1 part tequila, (one shot for me)


Add some ice


2 parts margarita mix


2 parts tequila, (one shot for me)


Hey, what’s up Rick? What’s going on man? Long time, huh? What ya been up to? No shit? That’s crazy! For realz? Right on. Yeah, for sure.


OK, let’s see…


1 part tequila (one shot for me)


1 part margarita mix


1 quick shot for me


This half empty beer here


1 part brown liquor with no label that smells like turpentine


1 part vermouth


1 part vodka


Three, no four olives


1 part tequila, (two shots for me)


Turn on your blender


OK, make sure the blender is plugged in…


Turn on your blender


DAMN IT! Make sure the lid is on your blender…


Lick the remaining concoction off of Jill’s face.


And there you have it, the perfect margarita!


Egg On,

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

May 31, 2009 at 4:41 am

Human Piñata

with 30 comments

I was at a party store today. Walking around the aisles I was contemplating suing them, because for one, there was no party and two, there wasn’t any party. There was so much crap in the store it made me feel like I was in an attic or garage of some deranged packrat. It seemed like everything in the store cost 15 cents. It felt as though I could buy the entire store with the money in my car ashtray.


Just when I thought all hope was lost, I turned the corner to the aisle of piñatas. Holy macaroni I love piñatas. I don’t think there’s anything cooler than a piñata. A cheap, ugly, crepe paper work of mastery always puts my on cloud nine. They never quite look like the object they’re suppose to be. A horse looks like a donkey, the mermaid looks like a donkey and Spider-Man looks like a donkey.


I once bought my daughter a piñata for her birthday. I filled it with fake gold coins and made an awesome stick out of an old school, broom handle, (i.e. it was thick and menacing). When the time came for her to unleash on it she hit it and hit it and hit it. Eventually she became so exhausted she gave me the stick. In my mind I thought, “Oh, little girl, me strong man, me break it no problem.” Twenty minutes later I was on my hands and knees with a box knife going for its neck. See how much you could have.


Standing in the piñata aisle made me wish I was a piñata. I tried to come up with what I’d want to have inside of me to come spilling out to please the children that were assaulting me. I thought cell phones would be cool or iPods. Maybe organ shaped candy. Ooo, iPod shaped organs, filled with cell phone shaped candy, perfect!


If you were a piñata, what would you want to be filled with?


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

May 30, 2009 at 4:43 am

Excerpts from my Handbook Collection part 3

with 6 comments

Tonight I will be sharing passages from the Handbook of What Are You Babbling About.


-A resolution is nothing more than a solution being used again.


-If dog hair falls off a dog, why does it stick to me?


-You order a chili cheese dog. It’s served with a fork in a paper basket. It would be impossible to eat it without showering afterwards if you tried using your hands. Is it worth $7.99?


-Barry Sobel use to be a popular comedian.


-Does anyone really eat Silica?


-Very few people know that Alexandre Dumas’ Les Trois Mousquetaires, (The Three Musketeers) was originally written as five musketeers, (a woman and a black man) but Alex’s sponsor, Mr. Mars, threatened to pull funding if he released it.


-People laughed at bottled water.


-Is there such thing a secret sauce?


-There are people in this world, right now, who want to appear on Jerry Springer.


-Some of them want to be used by you.


-There are 32 ways to kill a man with a cheeseburger.


-I don’t have any sisters, but my one brother who had “gender reassignment” surgery was disowned by my family. Therefore I know this ugly chick that I grew up with and whom I consider to be my brother, even though I’m not allowed. I still wish I had a sister.


-How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop? Who licks a T.R.T.P.? Don’t you put the whole thing in your mouth?


-I wonder how many people have “laid eyes” on me during my life so far. Regardless of whether or not it was positive or negative or if they even acknowledged my existence, how many eyeballs of witnessed my being since my inception?


-Ironic that fat makes you fat. If it made you stupid there’d be a lot of happy people in this world.


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Excerpts from my Handbook Collection part 2

with 38 comments

Tonight I will be sharing passages from the Handbook of Funny.


-The richest supply of Funny is born from pain and sorrow. Only the blood of suffering rings true to the Funny bone. It is manipulation, exaggeration and lies so grandiose that their merit is immaterial.


-Being funny is neither art nor science. Funny isn’t an equation that can be solved or a pattern to be charted. Funny is not to be, it merely is.


-Funny does not want to be found if it knows it’s being searched for. Funny likes surprises. Funny cares only to arrive unannounced. Funny is intangible and unpredictable. Funny likes to move on a whim, hang out all night and disappear for days.


-Funny is a mover and a shaker. You can not tie it down. Funny is indefinable. You will never be able to look Funny in the eyes. Funny is not reliable or consistent. Funny can and will let you down.


-Those who try to wrangle Funny will get the horns. Those who try and tame Funny will find a kick to the head. Those who try to buy and trade Funny only ride the train till the next station.


-Funny isn’t funny, it’s very serious business. There are a great many vices for man to get lost in, but only the soulful, belly-laugh is universal in both health and harmony and an appealing affliction for all of us to get caught up in, lost and taken over by. No one resists the charm or embrace of laughter. No one shies away from the pure joy and gift, like no other, that it brings. It is the warmth of the sun, the security of loving arms and the freedom of an unpainted horizon.


-Funny is not to be made, but rather to be conducted as it flows through us all. Do not try to own it or take it, just let it be and ride the ride for all it’s worth.



Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

May 28, 2009 at 4:17 am

Excerpts from my Handbook Collection

with 30 comments

The greatest Lion Tamer in the world, Capitalist, gave me an idea four days ago that I wanted to follow up on. The suggestion was to share some of the wealth of knowledge I keep locked up in my massive and expansive Handbook collection. These Handbooks are written in celestial blood on papyrus before the division of the continents. They’re super rare and I got them on eBay for a song. The entire collection takes up 24,000 square feet and it took me six hundred years to read them all.


Tonight I will be sharing passages from the Handbook of Evil.


-Puppies, they were made for kicking


-Mothers, the easiest of hearts to break


-Children, their minds are a blank canvas, the possibilities are endless


-Boyfriends/Girlfriends, why get one when all your friends have one you can use


-Thumb tacks in chairs, a lost art


-Pulling a chair out as someone is sitting down is especially easy to do on old people


-Hiding grandma’s teeth is an all day event


-Crowbar to the head, saying what words can’t express


-Secretly serving people food they are allergic to never ends badly


-Blackmail is the purest form of flattery


-If you see someone wearing a white suit or dress they are demanding to be pushed down in the mud. If it has not rained in awhile and mud is not readily available, it is wise to improvise and use urine to create a puddle


-Yelling “God damn it” in the middle of Mass is always good for a laugh


-“Tax refund time” and “mailbox baseball opening season” are synonymous


-You get double the points in a “panty raid” if the panties are still being worn upon snatching them


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

May 27, 2009 at 4:25 am

I Am Spam, Hear Me Blocked

with 6 comments

I am a casual blogger and an even more causal commentator. I like to keep it casual, just like my life and liaisons. Just kidding, I don’t have a life.


As I stated before, I’m somewhat new to the internet universe. Before this all started I pretty much just wandered around the farm, crowing at sunrises and lookin’ for feed. So when I began to write this blog I had no idea that I would also begin to read other’s blogs as well.


There are a lot of great ones out there. Some are so great that I feel like I have to leave a comment for every post they write. A few of these people have been telling me that my comments having been getting caught up in their spam filter.


Have you ever been called spam? Well let me tell you it is very painful. It’s exactly the same as being wrongfully accused of murder or rape. It’s as if a friend “pranked” you by placing your picture on a sexual predator/offender website. It’s like your lover telling you they’ve cheated and now someone’s pregnant. It’s equivalent to hearing the news of your parents dying. Having your face on a poster for AIDS awareness would be better than this. I’d rather pass broken glass than be called spam.


I know these blogging associates weren’t directly calling me spam, but it doesn’t matter. There’s just some things you want to be clear of, to keep a safe distance from or to make sure never gets associated with your good name. Once you get “spam” attached to you it’s like defecating in your pants at camp, you’ll never be able to shake it.


I just don’t understand why I’ve been blacklisted like this. Is it because even as I type this I’m sitting in a warehouse full of boxes with exciting and innovative products and merchandise at prices so low that the competition is running scared? Is it because I offer free shipping and an unmatched 60-day money back guarantee? Is it because I will throw in a free bottle of “smooth sensations” if you call within the next ten minutes? I didn’t think so either. So what gives?


Can you please give your e-mail address?


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

May 26, 2009 at 3:07 am

Ram and the Rod

with 8 comments

Once upon a time there was a mighty bad-ass named Ram. He lived in the small village of Nowhere. Since he was the biggest bully, Ram pretty much did as he pleased and needless to say, it wasn’t always nice.


Often times Ram would get drunk and walk in circles around the center of the village pulling behind him his giant club, the source of his might and fearsomeness, begging for someone, anyone to challenge him. Years went by and no one dared face Ram, the brute.


One day a mysterious and shadowy woman arrived on horseback to the village. Since no one had ever came or left Nowhere the people were of course amazed and anxious. Immediately talk of savior or angel swept through the streets.


Ram caught wind of such talk and exited the bar pulling behind him his giant club. He went to meet this mystery woman to see what was what. Ram found her waiting for him in the center of the town, the exact spot on which Ram often asked to be challenged. The entire village gathered to watch what would happen.


“Who are you and why do you come here?!” Ram demanded. “I am the smoke from the volcano, the mist in the valleys and the venom of poison. I sleep upon top of the mountain. I hear you bellow to be bested and tire of your whining” she replied. “You must be even more drunk than I.” Ram laughed. Some of the villagers laughed too, perhaps out of fear or perhaps they thought this woman to be crazy as well.


“Laugh if must, but this is no joke,” she said as she dismounted her steed, “I am going to fight you and win with nothing more than this.” She pulled a bamboo switch from her saddle bag. The village exploded with laughter and this time everyone joined in for they all knew that no could beat Ram, especially with nothing more than stick.


“You must want to die little lady. How can you think that you’ll beat me with that twig? Let’s us forget this nonsense and come inside for a drink.” Ram flirted. “What’s the matter, are you afraid?” she replied. “Do you see my giant club? One swing of this and it’ll be all over for you little girl.” Ram spat back, his ego being festered. “Then let us fight and we will see.” finished the woman.


The villages all stepped back as Ram and the woman began to circle each other. The woman ran up and smacked Ram in the face with bamboo switch. She moved so quickly that Ram didn’t even see it coming. Ram and the woman kept walking in circles. Again and again the woman would run up and smack Ram in the face. Ram became infuriated. He tried to lift his giant club, but every time he leaned over to heave it above his head, the woman was there to smack him in the face with her bamboo switch. He became angrier with every smack, yelling, screaming and swearing. He began to swing at thin air, never being able to predict of keep up with the woman’s assault. Several hours went by and Ram never lifted the giant club. He did however get smacked in the face more times than anyone was able to keep track of. 


Finally Ram conceded. “You win, you win, just please stop hitting me.” Ram fell to his needs, red, bloody, welted and humiliated. “You have bested me. You are the superior fighter. Make my death a quick one.”


The woman walked up to Ram and smiled. “I did not fight you; I merely kept out of the way during your tantrum. Now that you are on your knees the people of this village can see that you are not a champion, but an unchallenged fool. I know not of your death, for I am not your bringer, but something tells me your life will hurt much more.” With that she began to walk away.


“Who are you?” Ram asked as he began to cry. “I am merely a woman who wanted to sleep.”


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

May 25, 2009 at 5:48 am