Broccoli farts, she-hulks, donkeys, and honkey coons.


Well thirsty Thursday segued nicely into hangover Friday, which coincided with my ridiculously early start and long work day over on the coast. It wasn’t that bad though, everything went smoothly. I did have to spend several hours repairing a roof, and directly in the center of my work area was this big ass power line. I could crawl under it on one end, or jump over on the other, but that thing was making me nervous since it had enough juice running through it to power a five wide trailer. Darwin’s law kicked in and I managed to not electrocute myself.

We ended up going to this place called the Weyerhauser Paper Mill in Plymouth. If you are familiar with paper mills you will immediately know why working and breathing anywhere near one is unpleasant at best. For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure let me explain. I’m not sure exactly what sort of science and biology goes into this little factoid, but paper mills smell a lot like farts. Huge gnarly hard liquor and broccoli farts. And it goes everywhere. You can’t escape the stench. And it’s not one of those smells that goes away after you get used to it. It sits there like some rabid squirrel perched just behind your eyes, occasionally flitting about digging in the soft pink earth of your mind to look for long forgotten stores of stank. Gah it was bad.

While on the road we stopped once for breakfast and once for lunch. Both times at Wendy’s. I got myself one of those new big breakfast sandwiches they’ve been hyping the shit out of. You know the ones that are “as big as your face” and “could hold you over all the way into the afternoon” and all that shit. Let me just say Dave Navarro is rolling over in his grave right now. (I know it wasn’t Dave Navarro, I just can’t remember the guys name, it was Dave something. Mr. Navarro will be our substitute corpse for the day) The big breakfast sandwich was mediocre at best. Not worth the money. But at lunch I got one of those new jalepeno double melt things. It was fucking awesome! I want one right now. Next time you’re at Wendy’s check that sucker out. And for those of you who don’t enjoy spicy food, the jalepenos are all flavor and no kick. It’s not spicy at all. Your candy ass palates are safe for the time being. Wimps.

And speaking of wimps, you know who isn’t a wimp? Hulk Hogan. That guy is bad ass. I drank eggs because of him. I was watching Hogan Knows Best and he had some super fan who won a contest and got to come chill with Hulk in his house. And Hulk made them both a big ass glass of raw eggs to eat before they worked out, and this fat tard barfed it all over the place. I think he even finished up barfing in the pool. I thought he was a total pussy, and I wanted to know how hard it would be to drink raw eggs. So I cracked some in a glass, three if memory serves, and chugged those incredible edible delights. Now I wouldn’t say that it was the tastiest beverage I’ve ever had, but it wasn’t that bad, and I would never have found out if it weren’t for Hulk Hogan.

Now, it turns out Hulk is getting a divorce from she-hulk. That’s a bummer I guess. But I get to derive entertainment from it, and he’s not a real person, he’s a celebrity right? Well my brother was listening to 96 Rock, our local radio station which kicks major ass and sucessfully Pwn3d every noob ass competitor in the listening area. Well this dude named Menut comes on and sings songs he writes about current events, and they’re always really funny, and this was no exception. This has to be one of the funniest he has ever come up with. Go give it a listen here, you will enjoy yourself.

And it’s getting about that time of year again. You know the time right? When people go bat shit crazy for a month and a half over Christmas. Our neighbors have their huge, gaudy decorations up, just large enough to attract Santa’s attention if he happens to be flying by … IN SPACE! We already have a radio station that is playing non stop Christmas music. Call me a grinch, but I don’t really like Christmas, and I absolutely hate Christmas music. The whole thing sucks. I like eggnog a lot though, so I deal with the rest of that shit.

Anyway so Sami, my sister-in-law, loooooooooooooves Christmas music. You might say, she even hearts it. So I woke up wicked hungover this morning noon, and the first thing I hear is Jingle Bells coming from the living room. GAH! No it can’t be? What the hell is that awful audio torture? Not holiday spirit! Not this early in the afternoon. Gah! Why me God? Take me now and spare me the torment! This is why emo’s exist God! Ahhhhhh! (moan moan, bitch bitch, etc) But I do have to give Sami credit for introducing me to Dominic the Donkey. I’ve never heard this particular diddy before now,a nd I have to say, nothing goes together quite like Christ’s birth, yankee Italians, and a fucking donkey! Wait, what the fuck. You are probably wondering why the hell there would be an Italian Christmas donkey. Well the answer is so that a bunch of yankees could get together and make this video, a comedic masterpiece if ever there were one.

Another craptastic factor to my waking up was the worst case of eye boogers I have ever had. Nate and Sami decided they no longer want a popcorn ceiling in the living room and so we tore all that down, mudded up the ceiling, and are in the process of sanding so we can repaint pretty much the entire house. I could explain it to you, but you will get the eye booger thing a lot better if I just show you, so without further adieu, let the show begin.

the badlands of our livingroom.you can see how this might suckand here comes the eye crustiesbros being brosI'm a honkey coon!

Hahahahaha, I’m a honkey coon! That cracks me up. But that’s enough racial slur jokes for now. Have a good weekend world. I’ll be here cleaning and working on this project, what exciting plans do you have?

A little post edit here, I always go back and reread my posts a while after I post them to make sure everything makes sense and isn’t retarded. And while I was doing so for this post, I took a gander at that there last photo and I’ll be damned if I don’t look mighty manly! I could so work with Mike Rowe on Dirty Jobs.

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13 responses to “Broccoli farts, she-hulks, donkeys, and honkey coons.

  1. Oh Josh, I’m so with you! I fucking hate Christmas music and we have a station here in Michigan that has been playing that shit for a month now. A MONTH… Gah makes me want to cut my ears off when I accidentally land on it while trying to find something to listen too. And can I just say that in that last picture you look mighty hot?

  2. Allie: Yeah, Christmas music is pretty hard to deal with. And the worst part is, that everywhere you go, which is frequent around Christmas, with shopping and whatnot, every damn store plays the crap. Every single one. I hate it. Even the rock stations start busting out rock versions of christmas tunes. Grrrrrrr. It’s a travesty. And thank you ma’am, I do look both mighty and hot.

  3. Thank you for wearing a mask while working on that nasty popcorn ceiling! We need to do that project, too, since our whole house has them. It’s so 80s y’know, which figures seeing as how it was built in 1980! The messiness is something I don’t think I can get through so it probably will never get done.

    It was Dave Thomas who started Wendy’s. One of the many useless pieces of crap in my brain. I still think their chili is the best, but I like my stuff kinda bland.

    We are playing Christmas music in my piano class and I’m bored with it. I don’t like it except in church or a concert or the week before Christmas!

  4. Thomas. Dave Thomas. Haha, not Navaro.
    You are so southern, a five wide trailer? I died when I read that, hilarious!!
    I used to live in a shit small town for like, a few months when I was five. It was built AROUND a paper mill. I dont know, I assume the paper mill had once been outside of town, but due to the brilliance of the small town planners, they’d made the town of 9,000 wrap around the damned thing. I dont know. So I feel your pain, cuz all I remember from that place is the smell, and my mom bitching about the smell every day when we went outside.

    I love Christmas music. I was driving Greenie insane singing it at work on Friday. I’m sorry, I just do.

  5. I about fell over in my chair when I saw your picture. I know someone who looks EXACTLY like you, I am not even kidding. This is totally weird.

  6. Belle: Dave Thomas! That was it, I could not for the life of me remember that dudes name, thanks.

    Talea: Hahaha, I’m pretty sure they don’t make five wides for residential use. All we do at my company is office trailers and the occasional office/storage combo. Although my girl lives in this sweet house that was built around a trailer. But that’s not quite the same.

    Kristie: Well tell that guy to quit hogging all the handsome!

  7. wow! we have a place over here called new plymouth! exciting huh? and we have two sorts of wendys too we have the ones u were talkin bout but the only one i no of like that is in auckland the rest are the pink wendys that do ice creams n shit. exciting huh?

    you do look rather manly in the last photo.. i’ve had two midoris and they gone right to my head lol. woo..
    good luck with your popcorn stuff..

  8. The Queen: Awww, I remember the good old days when I could feel two beers. I can’t feel a thing now till after six.

  9. Think of a tree as a big wooden vegetable; once you’ve ‘harvested’ it, it starts to rot. That’s why much of Oregon smells like a fart. It has made the locals crazy; that’s the only way to explain why they’d name their college teams the Ducks and the Beavers.

  10. Linda: So that’s where “beavers and ducks” comes from. I always found it vaguely vulgar, but I suppose that’s just how they roll in Oregon.

  11. hey man i can hold my booze.. as long as i’ve eaten lots.. i reckon i could drink you under the table any day.

    as long as its not beer.

  12. The Queen: I reckon not. I drank a fifth of whiskey last night, and that was without trying. I’ve drank a half gallon in one night before. I’ve drank over thirty beers in one night. I reckon I could drink your midori loving ass under the table even with an empty stomach on a bad day.

  13. Est une est yamoots. Yats a yood one. Ess is essen maurtlrelds.

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