Nov 29, 2010


Rant of the Week: Stepping in Dog Shit

In my opinion, you're not a real man unless you have at least one "stepped in dog shit" story. I can't tell you exactly when the topic will come up - but it will come up. Maybe you are talking about dogs. Maybe you are talking about poo. Maybe, just maybe, you are talking about pooping dogs. Perhaps someone is telling you about a crappy day they are having and you decide to 1-UP them with your "Oh yeah? Well I stepped in dog shit this morning!" story. It happens. I'm not trying to be gross. It just happens.

I've got two stories. Before I begin, the inspiration for this happened earlier this week when I was returning The Dark Knight to it's owner, Mr. Gregory E. Just about the time I pulled out of the driveway, I noticed a horrible smell. FML. That is... sniff sniff... that is dogshit. I took my shoe off and turned it over to check it out. Clean. Driving down the road, I checked the other one (don't worry, I had cruise control on, and a seatbelt fastened to my chest). I looked at the bottom of the other shoe. Splash 1 Goose. Dogshit. I took the shoe off and drove barefoot to the home of The Man, praying to God that I didn't get dogshit on anything inside the PT.

Stepping in Dog Shit Story #1
When I was in high school, I had a bunk bed/futon. I slept on the top bunk. The bottom bunk was folded into a couch. One morning, I woke up late and sprung up out of my slumber. Instead of climbing down the ladder off the futon, I cannon-balled off the top bunk and landed on my bedroom floor. After all, I was a finely tuned athletic machine at 18 years old, so this wasn't a big deal. Well, on this particular morning, I jumped off the top bunk and when I hit the ground, I noticed something was wrong. Very wrong. My left foot landed safely, but my right foot felt... weird. Squishy weird. I was wearing socks, but as I kicked my foot up to investigate, I realized that the bottom of my sock was covered in dogshit. In short, I jumped 10 feet from the air and landed in dogshit.

Stepping in Dog Shit Story #2
This one is worse. When Bo was little, he got a bad case of the runs. He still didn't know the difference from pooping in my bedroom and pooping outside. One day, he took a crap on the new wood floors that Greg Terry installed on my bedroom floor. When I got out of bed that morning, I stood up and took a step towards the door and felt that same feeling I had back in high school once. But this time, I wasn't wearing any socks. I looked down and saw poop squished between my toes. Hot poop. Fresh, hot poop. I didn't get it completely at first and took a few steps and tracked the poop through my bedroom before I realized what happened. I stepped in a hot pile of dogshit.
Nov 28, 2010

Bittersweet


bittersweet

adj
1
: being at once bitter and sweet; especially : pleasant but including or marked by elements of suffering or regret
I can't wait to watch The Walking Dead tonight, but I'm not looking forward to the 8 hour zombie nightmare that will follow. It's a bittersweet feeling.
Nov 23, 2010

Ohhhh yeah! Time for another round of the Nostradamus Blog Effect. In case you missed the first two parts of the trilogy, here there are:

Nostradamus Blog Effect

Nostradamus Blog Effect Strikes Back


This time around, we've got quite the doozy for you. Thanks to "Rat Face" Aaron Rodgers and the Green Bay Packers, the last two teams they have played, the Cowboys and the Vikings, have both ended up in a total blowout that resulted in the coach on the losing team getting fired. Those coaches would be Wade Phillips and Brad Childress. Now before you ask yourself why those names sound so familiar, I will tell you. They were the last two Idiot's of the Week!

Yup. Take that one to the bank. I'm not sayin'. I'm just sayin'.


Nov 20, 2010

Coupon: This Is Not A Coupon

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So what you are saying is... wait... what are you saying? If this is "NOT A REDEEMABLE COUPON" then how am I going to save money on a future purchase with this coupon.


Nov 18, 2010
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.


Here's my take on the whole thing. How To: Bathrooms


Idiot of the Week: Brad Childress

Continuing the trend of football coaches that also happen to be idiots, I bring you this week's idiot: Brad Childress. Personally, I could care less. As long as the Packers beat the Vikings on Sunday. I guess all the Vikings hate Childress because he is an idiot. PorkRice thinks he is a huge idiot. So much, in fact, that he already knows who will take over the helm for the Vikings next year.


If you don't get the joke, he wants John Gruden to be the next coach. John Gruden looks like Chucky.

Nov 15, 2010


Rant of the Week: Driving With The Sun In Your Face

I'm not a morning person. Never have been. Never will be. My mornings typically start off at 3am, 5am, and 5:30am when Bo wakes me up for some random reason. As soon as I fall asleep, I'm back up again. Nightmares excluded. The morning ritual consists of laying in bed delaying the inevitable for 20 minutes while I listen to the sweet sounds of my alarm clock, as sampled below;


When I eventually rise out of bed, I relive the Home Alone 2 "race through the airport scene." After that, I shower, find some clothes to wear, take Bo outside, prepare Bo's anti-seizure cocktail, bring Bo back inside, lock the doors, stuff my backpack full of Diet Coke, whisper a few sweet nothings in Bo's ear, curse the world to infinity, lock more doors, and hop in my car. When I get in my car, I turn on the heated seats and put on my sunglasses. Yes, the time change has kicked in, and it is still in that time of the day when the sun can't decide whether it is coming up or just gonna sit there, but I put the sunglasses on. I'm not a morning person. I just crawled out of my cave, and now I have to face the world. As soon as I hit the highway, I am bathed in sunlight. The sun has decided to rise up just as it does every morning, but it shines an extra beam of light straight in my retinas. I can't see at all. I am constantly paranoid of the idiots around me while driving, and this is a 45 second window where I am at my weakest. I can't see. The sun is in my face. It hates me. I'm not a morning person. The sun in my face turns to road rage and by the time I merge onto the next highway, I am finally able to see again. An hour after the alarm goes off, I open my eyes for the first time. If today was "Opposite Day," I would describe this moment as being "happy as a clam." But I don't really like that saying, because when I hear people say that it pisses me off. How the hell can a clam be happy anyways? Albeit, it is the summary of my mornings. Every morning. Sun in my face. Pissed off. Can't see. I'm not a morning person.

Alien Booth Fun


I am fascinated by all these @pps that allow me to morph a picture of someone or something into a zombie or a random creature. I discovered this little gem called Alien booth over the weekend and found it to be quite the crowd pleaser. When you load the @pp, you have to put your thumb on the circle for a "DNA scan" to open it up. Kinda cheesy, kinda kick ass. Next, you have to load a picture or take one on the spot, and then line up the eyes and mouth so the @pp can work it's magic. Here are two samples:

[Me - Before]


[Me - After]


[Sammy - Before]


[Sammy - After]


Nov 12, 2010

Dancing Bird



Every once in awhile I am able to accept a sad fact of reality. Today was one of those days. I just discovered that a freaking bird dances better than I do. FML.

Nov 10, 2010

Happy Birthday: The Cow Show

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So... uhhh... Happy Birthday to... me?

It's been a whole year since I started this blog, folks. 365 days, 466 posts, 10,000+ hits, and 17 followers later, I am at the one year anniversary of something that I originally created on a whim and saw before my eyes transform into something I would consider "special." My original intent for this thing was to make sure I wrote something every single day of my life for a whole year. For the most part, I held to that self-promise and delivered content in some form or another on a daily basis. To put it into perspective, over the last year, if you copy + pasted all of the junk on my blog and put it into a Word document, you would come up with a masterpiece(?) that was 377 pages long. Yes. 377 pages. Of stuff I wrote. During my "free" time. Just for shits and giggles. 377. Not that this was some sort of epic struggle, but I definitely couldn't have found the inspiration to keep on keeping on if it wasn't for a lot of people.

Whether you are someone in my personal life, professional life, or some random person that keeps coming to my blog - I would like to thank you. This whole thing went from a random idea --> personal goal --> actual blog --> countless "Hey, check out my blog" phone calls --> hardcore dedication to writing something every night --> obsessing over blog --> HTML coding --> drinking beer --> re-registering URLs --> skipping out on Friday nights for some reason to "blog" --> feelings of paranoia that the wrong person would discover my blog at the right time --> not caring --> Idiot/How To/Rants of the Week --> countless hours writing and scouring Youtube --> and so on and so forth.

The response for doing this has been tremendous, and again, I want to thank everyone for reading what I have to say and bringing it up with me in our daily interactions. It is a kick ass feeling to talk to someone and hear them say "oh yeah, I read that on your blog." So again, thank you to everyone for reading, commenting, and inspiring me to do something that I love doing. Happy Birthday to The Cow Show, and I wish it many more years to come.

Cheers,

Cowdaddyfatsacks
Nov 9, 2010

Rant of the Week: Blue Screen of Death



Rant of the Week: Blue Screen of Death

Why do I always get the damn Blue Screen of Death at the most inopportune time of my life, especially on a night when I'm too lazy/unmotivated to fix it?

Tonight's excuse: Chipotle Burrito Coma.


I guess this can wait 'til tomorrow.
Nov 6, 2010

Don't Forget...


[Repost]

Grandma: Hello?

Me: Hey Grandma.

Grandma: Hello?

Me: Hello?

Grandma: HELLO? HELLO?

Me: Hi!

Grandma: Ohh hi Kev...Kyle.

Me: Hey Grandma.

Grandma: [laughing] I was wondering why I couldn't hear anything. I had the wrong end of the phone held up to my ear.

Me: [Laughing].

Grandma: I just wanted to remind you to set your clocks ahead an hour.

Me: Oh yeah, thanks Grandma. That starts tomorrow though, you know, on Sunday. Today is Saturday.

Grandma: Oh I know, I like to do it the day before though.

Me: Oh I see. Well I won't forget to set my clocks back---

Grandma: No! You have to set them ahead an hour.

Me: Yes yes, that's right. I won't forget to set them ahead an hour!

Grandma: OK well I just wanted to make sure you don't forget.

Me: Haha okay thanks Grandma, have a good day!

Grandma: You too. Thanks! Bye!