Tag Archives: Humor

“Pitcher” = Thunder Throat Punch

I am not joking here, the next person who says “pitcher” [pit-cher] when referring to a photo, gets throat punched like they’re in a Bruce Lee movie.

I may be just a Chi, but I have standards and I like to think of myself as educated kind of guy, you know? So, when I hear someone call a photo a pit-cher it makes me want to dip their lips in a hornet’s nest so maybe they have a reason for talking like a retard. Seriously.  And by the way, there IS supposed to be an “ly” on the end of that word, for those of you like to just say “Serious”.

So, little grammar lesson here, ok?…a pit-cher is either:  A. someone who stands on the pitcher’s mound and throws a baseball to the batter or; B. A receptacle for which to pour a beverage from, particularly beer – beer pitcher. A pit-cher and a picture are two different things and are pronounced DIFFERENTLY! See that? There is a “C” in one of them, pronounce it or you get throat punched!

A picture [pĭk′chər] is a photo. See the “C”? No “T”. Pic-ture. You know how lots of people refer to a photo as a “pic”? Yeah, you don’t hear them saying “Hey, I’ll send you my profile pit, do you ya? No. They say pic because it’s short for picture, damn it! PIC-freaking-TURE! Say it!

Look at this….

 

Pitcher FOr Pete's Blog

This is a picture of a pitcher. See that? I have no freaking idea what is happening to the dude’s arm though. That’s some weird alien crap happening there.

And hey, while this Chi is on a grammar rant here let’s discuss “your” versus “you’re”. Yep there are two of them folks. But all I see all around the internet – even from people who are supposed to know this – is “your” for it all.

Quick lesson:

You’re nuts. This means YOU ARE nuts. You are freaking bat-crap looney.
“You’re” is a contraction (like an abbreviation) for YOU ARE.

Your nuts. This means the nuts are yours. “Your” shows possession. Not like Linda Blair Exorcist possession, but like ownership…the nuts that belong to you, dude…your nuts are busted.

Get it? Learn it. Use it. Or I’m opening up another thunder throat punch!

Now for some calming, meditative yoga….

Peace out,

Petey Lee


What the Hella, CAPTCHA?

Ok, even if you all don’t know what it’s called, I’m sure you have seen a “CAPTCHA”. No it is not a Ukrainian sandwich condiment or some southwestern lupine-looking creature that sucks the blood from chickens.  It apparently stands for “Completely Automated Public Turing test to tell Computers and Humans Apart “. Yeah. But, even as a Chi I know about these twisted hieroglyphics. It’s those LSD induced-looking letters at the bottom of some websites that you have to decipher and type in a box in order to proceed with the important things you are doing. Yeah, you know those damn letters that you couldn’t interpret if you had a magnifying glass and decoder ring.

Now, as I understand it, mom says they serve a purpose. She says they are put there to keep robots – or “bots” as those in the know say – from jacking sensitive info, crashing online polls or springing free email accounts to blow spam. I think the purpose is to make you feel drunk and question the legitimacy of your current activities, “Oh crap I am so drunk I’m not seeing double I’m seeing squiggly!

Personally, I think they should have named them AMIDRuNK (Allow Me In Damn (it) Right Now Kidnapper) …’cause it’s easier to pronounce and frankly more accurate. Or maybe WAFWY (We Are Fing With You)…factual and you sound like Elmer Fudd when saying it and sounding like Elmer Fudd is fun.

Anyway, they are just aggravating. Damn. You know, you’re in the groove, finishing up your questionnaire for beef jerky treats, but you get cow-blocked by one of these things. Is that a wiggly o or a lower case e? Dang it. You pick e…NOPE! Wrong answer!

Now what happens? They give you a different one! So, you don’t get to try the o. Ok, so now…is it a q or a FUBARed y? Y or qy or q? You pick the y. BUZZER! INCORRECT! You get another…. and on it goes till you get lucky like teenager on prom night.

The other day I thought mom was going to burst a vein when she got job-blocked by one of these damn things. You know, there she is, plugging along, filling out her application that a prospective company sent her. She wants to get it done and get it to them quickly, but nope. JOB-BLOCKED by a CAPTCHA gatekeeper. Oh sorry, I couldn’t get my application to you for four days, I’ve been trying to do translate your site’s CAPTCHA, finally had to hire a psychic to tell me what it was.

You know, I understand the reason, I do. I’m an understanding kind of guy, but can’t they make it a little easier? Or come up with something different? Ah, I guess there are bigger things to worry about, but you know sometime a guys’ got to vent.

Thanks for listening.

Petey McSweets, catching ya on the flip side…


My Jingle Bells In A Bunch

Ok, last year I did a little rant about the standards of holiday candy (see Sacrilege of Holiday Candy Crossover). Well, this year I gotta say I need to vent again about another holiday standard going down the pooper. You know, it’s Christmas time, I’m the kinda guy wants to be happy and merry and bask in the joy of the season. No, seriously I do. But this wrapping paper desecration has got my jingle bells in a bunch.

What, you ask is wrong with the holiday wrapping paper? Well, I’ll tell ya…it’s BLACK. Yeah, black! For Christmas! And I’m pretty sure it isn’t Jesus’s 50th birthday – but that’s the only time I’ve seen black wrapping paper used for anything. So, unless someone is doing some weird dog-year’s kinda math, black wrapping paper has no business being used for Christmas.

And the only thing I know associated with black during Christmas is COAL and coal is meant for bad kids, right? Didn’t kids used to be threatened with a gift of BLACK coal if they were bad? I jus’ get thteatened with no treats. Anyway, now, we have BLACK wrapping paper! Black is NOT a Christmas color – for the record neither is BLUE – unless you’re Elvis. Then you can have a blue Christmas all you want, but I don’t want to see blue paper or ornaments either …and I do.

I mean, black is usually associated with death and Halloween, right? H.A.L.L.O.W.E.E.N. Completely different holiday. So why the hell are we using it for CHRISTMAS paper when Christmas is about BIRTH, life, love. What, some atheist elf get promoted to a decision-making position at the gift wrapping factory?

Christmas colors are red, green, silver and gold. What is wrong with people that we can’t maintain traditions? Are we just bored with the same ol’ colors, is that it? Well why don’t we start decorating for Halloween in pink and yellow? Wouldn’t that be pretty?After all Halloween is all about “pretty” and doesn’t orange and black get “old”?

Why don’t we change the colors of award ribbons? The “blue” ribbon is boring…why don’t we start awarding ribbons in saying plaid? OR brown? Congratulations! You’ve won the first prize BROWN ribbon! Or change gold medals to black plastic. Gold is scarce anyway. Or hey! Let’s change the colors and shape of stop signs. Whatever color and shape they feel like making at the stop sign factory that day. No need to be consistent. Let’s do that with all traffic signs. No one will know what’s coming up or what to do until they can actually read the sign. Fun!

Do you want to buy chocolate bunnies and red-heart laden items say during the 4th of July? You “love” your country, right? So what’s the matter with hearts all over everything then? Forget Valentine’s Day, we’ll put hearts on stuff every holiday, and black cats and skeletons, too. And why don’t we make some black hearts and flowers on Valentine’s Day? It’s good enough for Christmas. Hell, why don’t we sell Christmas trees for Halloween…well I guess we practically do since Christmas decorations ARE coming out at stores before fricking Halloween.

Yeah, I know, it may seem insignificant, but if we have don’t have customs and standards there is no meaning to anything…everything is the same no matter the day, month or season. If we don’t maintain the things that are special and standard for each holiday, then NOTHING will be special. Don’t you want to have some things that make you think specifically of certain times of the year or holidays? Don’t you want a break from the ordinary?  Easter IS pastels. 4th of July IS red, white and blue. Halloween IS orange and black. And Christmas IS red and green.

And you know, Christmas is NOT “Winter Celebration”. I mean I know Christmas happens during winter, I’m not a stupid Chi, but kids can’t have Christmas parties in school anymore; they have to have “winter celebrations”. They can’t have red & green decorations, gotta be blue and white like…I guess, snow and frostbite. They can’t have Christmas trees, oh no, they have to be “holiday” trees. Do you know what I do on all trees that are not Christmas trees? I pee on them. I mean if it’s not a Christmas tree then it’s just a regular tree, like in the park. I pee on trees in the park.

Ok, anyway,…Christmas is a holiday…called…CHRISTMAS. Would the Jews call Hanukkah something different just because not “everyone” celebrates it? No. I sure as crap know the Muslims wouldn’t allow anyone to call Eid-Al-Fitr by any other name.

So, WHY are people so “offended” by calling Christmas, CHRISTMAS? That IS the holiday! If you don’t want to celebrate it that’s fine, but allow the rest of us that do to enjoy our songs and traditions that our families have for generations in this country.

Hey, how about if you’re so offended by salutations of joy and good will, gift-giving, songs of love and hope, pretty lights on an evergreen or plastic figures and animals in a pretend barn…why don’t those people not accept gifts, stay out of the stores and go to work while the rest of us enjoy family, treats, love, gifts and a couple days off?

I guess I’m an old-fashioned kinda Chi. I just don’t want anyone to take away my Christmas. Hey, Chi’s celebrate Christmas, too you know. I’m pruddy sure I’m getting some chicken treats.

So, Merry Christmas to you all…and to all a good night (jus’ wonderin’ what it would feel like to be Santa).

Peace and chicken,

Petey Kringle

 


Dirty Devil In The Bed

So, I’m the kind of guy likes to talk about important stuff. You know like the state of the nation, stupid people, matters of the heart and soul, things like that outside of my little Chi world.  But, sometimes the little things need discussing, too. I need to get out the little ass-itching stuff, you know, so I don’t combust, become an ass hole.

I mean, mom says I’m an ass hole to other dogs when we’re out walking, but I prefer to say I’m being preemptive. You never know when you let down your guard if another fella is gonna take advantage of your neighborly manner. Good guys like me get taken for a ride every day and it’s not in the we’re-ridin’-to-the-beach-and-then-to-PetSmart- for-treats kind of ride. So a little h’ordeuvre attitude is just being smart.

Anyway, back to my reason for venting. See, if I want to sleep on the bed with mom, I have to share it with Gussy and the devil. You all know I call Elsa the devil, ‘cause, well, she is; for more elaboration on my reasoning visit Elsa’s page on this site. Her devil status is explained in detail.

Ok, so sharing the bed with Gussy is not too bad once he gets settled. He has a good heart (Elsa has no heart or soul), but sometimes he doesn’t understand “personal space”. Mom says it’s because he’s a genuinely sweet guy. And a little simple, the guy is simple. I have to wonder why the hell it takes him 3 hours just to walk from the bottom of the bed to the top. I wonder if he thinks he’ll get the bends if he goes too fast.

When Elsa gets on the bed, though, you never know what’s gonna go down. Sometimes she likes to screw with me and rub her beelzebub head against me as if she likes me. I don’t fall for that shit, but mom MAKES me let her! WTF, yo? (Learned me some ghetto lingo.) The unholy ALWAYS has ulterior motives. Always.

Other times her true essence comes out and she bitch-swats Gussy out of the blue. Poor dumb bear is just lying there enjoying his unconsciousness and… BAM! BAM! …Satan thumped by Elsa. Then when he wakes, ripped out of his simple slumber, Elsa hisses her breath-of-the- dead in his face. You know, I don’t know why he just doesn’t bite her in the ass. Well, actually I wouldn’t take that chance, either. His teeth could fall out or his face could melt like that freaky dude with the glasses when the ark is opened in Indian Jones.

So, last night we’re all tucked in bed, sleeping soundly. I got my spot behind mom’s legs and for once she’s not flopping around and fidgeting. She bumps me once in a while, she’s dreaming of spiders or running from vampires and sometimes gets a little twitchy. Anyway, so I’m a cozy Chi, dreaming of running like the wind down the beach chasing seagulls, when I’m rudely pulled back into consciousness by the bed shaking…why is the hell bed shaking?

I look up and see Elsa with her Lucifer leg up in the air, like she’s doing yoga, and her head in her stinky parts, furiously cleaning herself!  What the hell did she have going on down there that she’s moving the bed like that? The bed was shaking like monkeys were jumping rope on it.

I was perturbed, you know, so I got up and went to my bed. But she woke mom, too, and mom has no other bed to go to.  First mom whispered for Elsa to stop – yeah right. She just kept licking and sucking. Eeww – makes me nauseous to think about it. Anyway, so then mom tries shaking Elsa. Nope. She keeps going. Next, mom tried to pet her. Well, that works for the 2 seconds she pet her, then the serpent was right back cleaning its hell hole.

Then I hear mom tell Elsa she smells like shit. Well, duh! The devil doesn’t smell like daisies. By then mom had had enough and actually shoved her off the bed. Woot! Elsa hit the floor on all fours with an angry, wicked screech.  But then, then Elsa comes back 3 minutes later. Back up on the bed…and continues her devil deep cleaning! The nerve, you know? The diablo cares not.

Now, mom was really irritated and with damn good reason. That shit-smelling, bed-shaking furry malevolence had no regard for the other sleeping members of family or the fact that mom has to get up early to earn money to buy her evil ass stinky cat food. Selfish.

Mom shoved her off once more and it worked, but I was worried. You can’t get too bossy with the hell dweller. I was worried she would try to eat mom while she slept. She’d start with her larynx so mom couldn’t cry for help. Personally, I think mom should spray her with holy water and set her on fire. Just in case.

 

 


Stop Picking on Charlie Brown & Christmas!

Ok, first, hasn’t Charlie Brown been picked on enough with Lucy pulling that darn football away from him every time?  Isn’t that enough? But now we got some tardweasel trying to take him off the air. I mean, I would think a guy would be smart enough to notice a pattern, you know, like “Hey she’s yanked the football before, maybe she jus’ might do it again.” Like when Elsa scared the beejeezuz out of me jumping out from dark corners. It only took me 3 times of that crap and I recognized the evil pattern.  Elsa is evil. So now I walk in the middle of the room. Always.

Sorry, this is about the raw deal Charlie Brown and Christmas are getting. So first, there was some cry-baby-pee-pants parent who wanted to have The Peanuts gang removed from airing on TV because he thought it promoted “bullying”. Yeah. Ok, dude have you SEEN any of the shows? Like I said, Lucy whisks the football away from Chuck all the time. But you automatically think a kid is going to beat up and steal your little Aiden’s iCrap because they watched The Great Pumpkin? Seriously? Maybe you should take away  “Call of Duty” or “Grand Theft Auto” first.

And could someone tell the Delicate Dan that kids have been “bullying” each other since before TV was even invented? Since before dogs were domesticated. Heck, I bet there were cave-kids bullying each other with clubs and snakes. Dude, they don’t get the idea from an innocuous cartoon about a giant pumpkin or the spirit of Christmas.

You know, teenagers’ brains aren’t fully developed so they are like retarded, drunken howler monkeys. They think up weird shit and sometimes do bad things. Has Daddy ever thought about oh, maybe taking some responsibility for the life he chose to produce and TEACH it “right and wrong”? Maaaaaybe, telling his precious squirt that what Lucy does is not very nice? Maybe then focus on the POSITIVE messages the REST OF THE DAMN SHOW HAS?

<Breathe> Sorry, I’m usually a mellow guy, but dang it, it gets my nuts in a knot. I mean, I don’t actually have nuts anymore, so of course I’m speaking figuratively. I like to say it though, makes me feel manly. Anyway, so NOW some stupid atheists are going after the “Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown” special AND a local theatre rendition at a <GASP> church.

Kids at a school were going to go to the play as a field trip, but the atheists got their pentagram in a twist saying that it has “religious content” and is held in a religious venue, then citing the 1st Amendment. Um, do these Jesus-bashers know that it says “…freedom OF religion…” NOT freedom FROM religion?!  Meaning anyone can practice ANY RELIGION they want. Well, actually what it says is, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof;…”.

So, you  know, I got to thinking – I can be a very pensive kind of dude – and what I want to ask these hypocrites is, why does God offend them so much, but Allah doesn’t? HUH? See, we can’t sing songs in schools that even mention God; can’t have a “CHRISTMAS” tree, has to be a f-ing “holiday tree” (vomit); they can’t say “Merry Christmas” because it might “offend” some Sensitive Sally (Hmm my Jewish friends never got offend by the INNOCENT, HAPPY sentiment); no way on having a nativity. BUT if they are SO concerned, too, with “separation of church and state”, why don’t they make a darn peep when children in a US school sing a RELIGIOUS  MUSLIM song? Yeah, that’s right, that’s what I said…a Muslim religious song. Here. In the US. In a school.  But they can’t sing “The First Noel” or have a “Christmas” party?! I mean, what the hell?

And a school somewhere else took children to a MOSQUE; you know a “religious venue” on a field trip. I’m pretty sure they weren’t having a Charlie Brown Christmas play either. No, they had them recite a Muslim prayer. A prayer. Now if it were a dang Christian prayer they would have gone bat-shit.

So, hypocritical haters, what’s your excuse? Where were you then? HUH? You don’t want to see or hear anything to do with a Christian God, but you’re perfectly fine with Islam? Isn’t that considered a religion? Aren’t you soul-suckers against ALL religion?

As an open-minded, understanding kind of Chi, I can’t understand how people can be frickin’ offended by a holiday that’s main message is peace, love and selfless giving. I mean, seriously?

You know, how empty does your life have to be to get your titties in a twist about a good-smelling evergreen with twinkly lights and sparkly glass balls or a salutation that is meant with the kindest of intention? I don’t have titties, but if I did they wouldn’t get in a twist if someone wished me, say, “Happy Hanukah” or Happy Mother’s Day. I’m not a mother, I’m a dude, but hey I wouldn’t get all agro about it…cause see I’m secure in who I am and I have more important things to think about…like if evil Elsa will try to eat me today.

Mom tells me that when she was young -not that long ago, I’m reminded-that there CHRISTMAS decorations everywhere…in stores, restaurants, gas stations, homes, town halls, frickin’ everywhere. She said every one wished each other Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukah and no one got offended by pretty decorations and good cheer. WTF, yo?

I don’t understand, but I”m jus’ a simple Chi with a simple life.

Well, mom and I are wishing EVERYONE a “Merry Christmas” wherever we go and mom decorated her car with the phrase “Merry Christmas”.  Hey, maybe we’re offended by people who are offended by Christmas.

So, here’s a shout out to the baby Jesus on his birthday and wish of a very Merry Christmas everyone, whether they like it or not.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, yo,
Pete, your Christmas elf.


Happy Ho’oween?

Ok, so as a Chihuahua I don’t particularly like to get dressed up. For anything. Especially Halloween. It’s jus’ not my style, I’m a commando kind of guy. I’m all about hanging out all the way, all the time. With that said, I can respect peeps who want to get dressed up on Halloween. That’s cool, that’s their choice and I’m all about choice..I like to have a choice between chicken and steak and cheese and sugar snap peas, apples with peanut butter…anyway…

So, I’m cool with other people getting their costume on. But what my curious Chi mind wants to know is what the hell is with all the whore costumes for ladies? I mean, seriously. A girl can’t just dress up as regular ol’ Pocahontas, now she has to look like Whorahontas. I mean there are some costumes that jus’ assume a little sluttiness, like you  know, say, a French Maid or a Go-Go dancer…or a hooker. But now, every darn costume made for the ladies has as much material as a shrunken thong. They take the most innocent costumes and strip it down and turn up the skank. Hey! Look at the  Zombie Tramp!

And this not jus’ an issue for grown ladies, but little girls, too! Prepubescent hussy costumes! Doesn’t anyone see that a sexed-up Hello Kitty costume for a 9 year old girl is jus’ WRONG?!  I mean don’t their daddies care? If I was was a daddy _ I mean I can’t be because they cut off my junk before I was old enough to be a daddy – BUT if I were one, I would not want my little girl dressed up as a slutty pumpkin!

I mean I understand that some ladies – LADIES, NOT little girls – may want to feel a little sexy, ’cause maybe they don’t get to dress sexy much, but sheeesh then go for the Play Boy Bunny or “dirty teacher”, but don’t sex-up dinosaurs! I mean I’M an animal and I don’t find dinosaurs “sexy”!

And you know, also I think there’s no creativity in the slut costumes…just take any ol’ idea and show some cleavage and crotch and there you go! Look! I’m a skanky witch!

I realize I may be all alone in my viewpoint…it’s a rare dude doesn’t like a lot of skin, but there’s a lot to be said for what I call the “librarian effect”. You know, a little mystery, little anticipation of what lies underneath…but hey I’m a Chi what the heck do I know, right?

So, jus’ sayin’ that Ho’oween costumes don’t make me think “OOOOO, she’s hot.” I think “OOoo, good thing I got my shots!”
Peace and peas,
Pete


So I’M The A-Hole?

Ok, so mom tells me I’m an a-hole from time to time. Well, pruddy much every time I snarl and bark at another dog. Which, ok, I have to admit is almost every time I see one on a leash. But a, uh, compact dude like myself, we gotta walk tall, show we’re tough. According to mother that’s being an a-hole. I disagree. I call it not being a victim. Proactive, you know.

So, yeah, I get carried away sometimes, get to feeling my power and I may become a little overzealous. It happens. I mean what good is being alive if a guy can’t get a little crazy now and again, right?

Ok, anyway, so I think MOM is an a-hole, too. I’m sorry, I love her, she’s awesome, gives me sugar snap peas (they’re delicious), but she’s crossed a line. I’ve lost trust and it will take some time to get it back, you know. What did she do you ask?

She took me into the pool. A swimming pool! Like with deep water. Oh she thought it would be funny – ha ha – to get the chi wet. She thought it would cool me off because she thought I was hot. Well, that’s what the hell shade is for. Not water. Not for a chi. We. Don’t. Like. Water. Hate it.

Oh yes, I tolerate the bath, cause well, you know, a guy likes to stay clean. I’m mature enough to realize that baths are a necessary evil of not offending others. I want people to pet me, and I understand they may shy away if I have too much funk goin’ on. I don’t want them to say “Oh looook at that cute chi (cause they do, they say I’m cute) he’s so cute, but man is he stinky. Don’t pet him, he smells like Mastiff butt.”

Anyway, giving me a bath, that’s different than carrying a guy INTO the pool. Carried me in over her shoulder. She got my junk wet.

You know I gotta say it…she…well, she pissed me off. Yeah, she did. I couldn’t even look at her for an hour. Damn sure wasn’t going anywhere near her. Oh she knew she did wrong, she knew. I made sure of it. I gave her the best stink-eye I could muster. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of my stink eye, you’ll feel it down in your soul. If you have one, mom.

<SIGH> So, of course I’m finding it in my heart to forgive her. She does feed me pruddy good stuff, after all. I mean she could feed me MORE good stuff, but I don’t really want to be a tubbo, super-sized chi. I gotta stay at my fightin’ weight. So I got respect her for that, too, keeping a check on my fightin’ weight. Some moms, they don’t care. They’re like “Oh, here baby, have more chicken fat, here, more steak, more Snausages…” And the poor helpless guy eats it up and pruddy soon he’s waddlin’ around like Orson Wells after a doughnut binge.

Anyway, so yeah, I’m forgiving her – slowly, but I jus’ want her to think next she’s calls ME as a-hole. She’s no “Miss Innocent”.

Peace to the Out,

Pete-man