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This is a collection of my thoughts, experiences and most importantly my opinions.

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My Shit Smells Like Roses

Saturday, September 26, 2009

AMERICA'S ASSHOLES

Rush Limbaugh, Glen Beck, Neil Boortz and Bill O’Reilly are the number one thru four assholes in America (in no particular order).  Boortz is such an asshole that his name comes up as misspelled on MS Word.  I listen to these 4 whenever I can stand to.  The misshaped words of these kinds of men fuel the divide in the United States and as an American it sickens me. 

So Rush lost eighty-some-odd pounds and he actually looks like a person again.  I can only assume that he was tired of not seeing his dick without the assistance of a mirror.  I think it is great that he is starving himself.  This true American dickhead has said some things recently that make me shutter.  He actually said the he believes the President hates the United States.  To listen to this master of demagogues without becoming nauseated is almost impossible.  All of these enlightening ideas from a prescription drug abuser and a borderline racist.  No shit he doesn’t want government healthcare, no more OxyContin for him especially from a black man.  Remember, “Donovan McNabb is carried by his defense and doesn’t deserve any credit for the team’s success; the media needs a successful black quarterback”? Well now I guess that they need a successful black president and it sickened his fat ass so bad that he’s become anorexic, who thought it was just for teenage girls? 

Glen Beck…  Schmuck.  He recently wrote a book called Arguing with Idiots.  The idea behind this book is that you can defeat a “liberal” with facts that he fills his book with so you don’t even have to think about being closed minded.  And just to help you not look like a fucking mental midget he put footnotes in it so it will seem like you actually read something and formed your own opinion rather than regurgitate his rhetorical bullshit.  The best part of this is that the unemployed assholes that sit around listening to this douche mouth will run out and spend money that they don’t have to buy this wonderful book.  Then in the master stroke of genius they will begin argue the philosophies of the greedy cock suckers that laid them off and sent their job to Malaysia, India or Pakistan.      

Neil Boortz isn’t really worth mentioning at all but I listen to his radio show on my way home from work.  In all of the hours that I have invested in listening to this self righteous shit stain I have gained nothing.  Fuck this guy and his principles.

Bill motherfucking O’Reilly is my favorite TV personality on FOX News.  I enjoy watching him ask people questions and then talk over them when their answer is not the right wing agenda he works so hard to push.   The funny part of his interviews is that his show, The Factor, obviously schedule guests that they believe to be the shittiest possible person to argue their point.  O’Reilly’s overbearing blathering must have been the catalyst for Andrea Mackris’ allegations of sexual harassment.  I can just imagine him trying to solicit her for a BJ and she says no so he proceeds to yell over her “just suck my dick!  Just say you want to suck me off!”  Yeah, yeah, yeah he proclaims his innocents, but innocent men don’t give lying bitches 2 million dollars. 

I hate these tools.     

 

1:07 am edt 

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Keeping in touch

Karl is on Twitter at www.twitter.com/karl325.  The hiatus is almost over, more to come very soon.

10:17 pm edt 

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

The Latest

I am working on something new so I ask that you wait for just a little longer.  Any ideas on a subject, send an email.

8:41 pm edt 

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The Worst Night Ever

Let’s start this story with the cast of characters.  Two of my friends from work who both had the same first name so I’ll use their last names in the interest in keeping the story understandable.  They are Martinez and Fry.  Martinez met this girl named Monica on a plane when he flew home to Texas for Christmas.  We all lived in North Carolina at the time and Monica lived about 85 miles from us.  Martinez and I had been to Monica’s house once about two weeks before this infamous day.  Well Fry wanted to get out of town so Martinez started working the arrangements to head out to Fayetteville and see Monica again.  He also let her know to have a friend join her so the ratio wouldn’t totally suck.  She got her friend Samantha to hang out. 

We start driving out on Sunday morning and since I’m the only one with a car I get to drive.  We venture through the desolate landscape that is eastern North Carolina for a few hours identifying the rules of engagements for the remainder of the day.  We arrived at Monica’s apartment and decided that we should all go out and get some lunch.  A Mexican place was suggested and there weren’t any objections so that is where we went.  This is where the turn for the worst is made, note bad decision number 1. 

A little background, Fry and I always fuck around and talk shit about each other.   The most common attacks were based on our ethnic backgrounds, he’s partially Jewish and I am German.  What a good combination.  Well, I begin fucking with Fry by asking him “how he’s jewing” and shit like that and of course he’s following it up by calling me a Nazi.  Well the “friend” Samantha now becomes the target of my attention.  I start hitting on her and acting like I’m the coolest guy that’s ever talked to her by taking the “you‘re lucky I’m even talking to you” stance and she isn’t having any of me.  I am trying to figure out why.  It makes no sense to me why this broad isn’t into me.  Apparently after fucking with Fry about being Jewish for the better part of our lunch this Samantha had enough and told me that she too was Jewish.  Must be one of the few Jews out there without a sense of humor, well fuck it.  My chances with this one were gone.  I think that we went to the movies and watched “Gone in 60 seconds”.   The progression of lame events went from afternoon and faded into evening and we ended up going back to Monica’s apartment. 

I had been antisocial all afternoon since I fucked up any chance of “befriending” Samantha and subsequently counted down the minutes till we could go home and chain smoked cigarettes.  Monica was claimed by Martinez prior to us getting there so I was totally assed out.  What does one do in this situation?  I asked Monica if she had any alcohol and she showed me to an unopened 1.75 liter bottle of vodka and a half gallon of cranberry juice.  I made myself a pretty stiff drink and whacked it down a way too quickly.  Being that I was 20 and hadn’t hit my drinking prime I didn’t feel drunk so I made another and another and before I knew it the bottle was empty.  What am I going to do now?  Let the alcohol catch up and smoke more cigarettes.  Over the next 30 or so minutes my intoxication transformed my solitude into a social butterfly then I got more fucked up than I can remember ever being in my life.  Everyone was in Monica’s room watching TV so I staggered in there to join them. 

After my vision started to blur my stomach thought it would be a good idea to get all of the vodka, cranberry juice and Mexican food out of my stomach in the fastest possible way.  I threw up.  Thankfully I caught the majority of it in my mouth and hands and lurched up wobbled toward the bathroom and careened through the door before anyone noticed.  I push up the seat and begin vomiting uncontrollably into the toilet.  Puke and snot dripped from my nose and it burned my throat.  My eyes were watering and my stomach was knotted up, I was aware of all of the pain that I was feeling at this point but I lost feeling in one very important area.  I thought that someone was grabbing my ass.  I turned around to see if who was fucking with me when I was puking and unfortunately no one was there.  In my state at the time my brain wasn’t functioning very well so it took me a little longer than normal to realize that I was shitting my fucking pants. 

I quickly unbuttoned my jeans and pulled my pants off while turning to sit on the toilet.  Bad decision number 2.  While doing this I sprayed shit out of my ass in a semicircle around me and all over the toilet, shower curtain, bath mat and floor.  The place was a total fucking mess.  Since I had no coordination at this point and I covered the toilet seat in liquid shit I slipped all over the place when I sat down to finish what I had started.  I was holding on to the sides of the seat for dear life.  I sat there for a while trying to figure out what I could do to reverse this horrible turn of events.   There weren’t many options.  My pants and underwear were thoroughly saturated in shit so the thought of escape was quickly dismissed.  I couldn’t believe the magnitude of damage that I had inflicted on this bathroom.  Where did all of this shit come from?  I had no idea that I could expel this much diarrhea and vomit.  I sat there in almost a state of awe.  I began wiping my ass and thighs but (due to my extreme state of intoxication) kept sitting back on the shitty toilet seat.  I cleaned that up as well as I could and I began looking under the sink for cleaning supplies.  I didn’t find anything except a half full bottle of nail polish remover.  So with that, I went to work. 

I began pouring the nail polish remover on everything that was brown.  The combination of these two smells made me want to fucking hurl again.  Using toilet paper to wipe this shit up, no pun intended, I made minimal progress.  I basically spread the shit around and made the smell much worse.  Up to this point my adventures were unknown to the rest of the inhabitants of the house.  This wasn’t going to last long, there was only one bathroom in this house.  Fry knocked on the door and asked if I was ok, here’s how the conversation went:

Fry:  Hurry up dude, both of these chicks have to piss and this is the only bathroom, go pass out somewhere else.

Karl:  Fuck you!  Leave me alone.

Fry:  Bitch I’m not kidding, get the fuck out!

Karl: NO!

 To this point they all thought that I had only thrown up.  Little did they know I sprayed ass water all over the only bathroom in this girl’s house.  He knew that I wasn’t going to leave so he tried to open the door.  I jumped up and slammed it back shut and locked it.   When I made it back to the comfort of my shitty seat I looked up and noticed a very disturbing sight.  When I pushed the door closed my hands were still covered in shit and there was a big shitty handprint on the door.  What the fuck was I going to do?  More nail polish remover.  I began to wipe the door but to my surprise not only did I get the shit off the door, I got the paint off too.  I started to get tired and was on the verge of passing out.  I had filled the shitter with TP and I tossed my pants across the room.  At this point the only thing that I could do was clean myself up. 

I crawled into the shower and laid down.  I threw up again and was scared that I would shit in the shower.  I was in and out of consciousness and very afraid that I was going to get found out.  I cleaned my ass and legs off nicely and laid back down looking into the drain.  I honestly thought I was going to die and I was ok with that rather than going out there and facing my embarrassment.  This was my last thought as I faded into my drunken coma.

Fry eventually broke into the bathroom.  When He saw what happened he freaked the fuck out.  He yelled to the girls and Martinez to call 911.  He relayed to them that I drank a bottle of nail polish remover and that the scene look like something from the movie “Train spotting”.  This crazy shit got me really scared and I muttered to him to not call 911.  I explained the situation as best as I could.

Karl:  I didn’t drink it, I used it to try to clean up.  Please don’t call 911.

Fry:  Holy shit… (lots of laughing) what the fuck happened?

Karl (very drunk):  Ishitmyselfwhatthefuckdoesitlooklike?

Fry:  Dude, you have to clean this up, I’ll be right back. 

I climbed out of the bath tub and stood there with a towel on and waited for Fry to come back.  He came back with paper towels and a pair of basketball shorts.  Perfect.  He opened up under the sink and there was a bunch of cleaning supplies.  Where were these when I was looking down there?  Fry left again and returned with a garbage bag.  We threw away all of the bath mats and stuff and my pants and skivvies, literally a sack of shit.    

I cleaned up the devastated areas as best I could with my new friend the Bounty man.  I disposed of all of these paper towels into the toilet, yet another terrible idea.  If it wasn’t clogged before it sure was now.  I stumbled back out of the bathroom for the first time in what seemed like an hour.  I saw Monica and apologized for vandalizing her bathroom.  Strangely she was very cool about the whole thing.   I honestly don’t think that she had or has any idea what actually happened in her bathroom.  We drove back to our place and arrived around 2 am.  I had to be to work at 7 the next morning and was hung over until Wednesday.  I didn’t drink or smoke for months after this night.  This has trumped anyone’s “most embarrassing moment” story that I’ve met to date.        

11:12 pm est 

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Check out the new essay.
12:29 am edt 

2009.09.01 | 2009.06.01 | 2009.01.01 | 2008.10.01 | 2008.09.01

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