My Mind News

This is my brain. I'm pretty sure it's not on drugs.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Meh

Hey Blog,

I once read that if you have a dead blog, you should just leave it dead and move on. Eh, what's that guy know anyways. I'm sure you're appreciative of me coming back to breath a little life into you after all these years.

The writing bug has been at me lately, and I needed an outlet. I've never took you down, because I've always enjoyed going back to you time to time to read up on how my mind used to work years ago. I'm a bit older now, and my mind spins a bit differently.  My fear is that I'm not nearly as verbally witty as I used to self inflate myself to think I was years back.

Lots have changed from then till now. I'm married. I have twin daughters now. You should see them, they are beautiful. I do my best to make sure they survive this world, while my wife makes sure they greet this world with pigtails and pink dresses. They turn three in a couple months. Perhaps I'll post a few pictures of them on here for you to see.

So how are things with you? I still see that you manage to get a little traffic everyday. Amazing eh? No matter how the world changes around you, you still remain the same, and people still seem to find parts of you interesting enough.

Your look is a little old and played out. Don't take that as an insult please. I'm sure if you have the capabilities, you'd keep your look current. I suppose that's my job. Maybe I'll give you a face lift and make you a bit more appealing for the few that stumble across you.

I've missed you Blog. I guess it's because you're a part of me. Perhaps my momentary desire to give you a little love, will have a bit more consistency this time around. We'll see how that turns out.

Take care,

Shawn

Thursday, May 25, 2006

My Wenis

So she lost the bet. And now she owes me a blowjob. Hey, it's not pretty, but that's how the world works. So whatever, she's lying in bed, I'm taking a piss before I head on there with her. I was even polite enough to take a piece of toilet paper and dab it on my wenis head so she doesn't have to endure any unsavory tastes.

So I head out of the bathroom and she barks out, "Did you wash your hands?"

Right then and there my jaw locked tight, my eyes rolled into the top of my head and my brain seized up as a result of the idiocy of the question that resembled more as an order.

Let's recap. I'm in the bathroom. My hands are on my wenis. I'm peeing with my wenis. My hand grabs the toilet paper roll and I rip off a piece and tap my dick head with it to get the little droplet of urine off of it. I flush the toilet and I walk myself and my dick out of the bathroom.

And what does she have concern over? My hands?!?!??!

Again...let's recap. I'm in the bathroom. My hands are on MY DICK. I'm peeing with MY DICK. Keep in mind. This is the same dick that will be in her mouth within the next two minutes. And she cares about my hands?!?!

My goodness. So here's my dilemma. I'm standing naked outside of the bathroom holding every urge I have inside my body to keep me from shutting the fuck up. After all, no man gets a blowjob after he calls the giver of such fine work an ignorant bitch.

So I take a breath. I compose myself. And I slowly turn back into the bathroom and wash MY HANDS.

Monday, May 22, 2006

Digging Up Hoffa

Okay, why they hell are they still spending money looking for Hoffa. The dude has been gone for decades. Let's all just assume he's dead and move on with our lives. I mean, what difference does it make at this point anyways? Is peace and harmony going to spring over the world if they find the dude's remains?

I don't get it. I just don't get it.

I bet there's a betting pool going on at the FBI Headquarters to see what year they find Hoffa in. What else could be the incentive? They certainly aren't going to name a school after the guy that found his bones. So what's the point?

So instead of fighting crime, or whatever it is these FBI guys do, they are throwing on their farmer's gear, grabbing their backhoes and digging up some dude's farm looking for Hoffa.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Celebrity Tip of the Day

If you're reading this, you must be a celebrity. Now I'm no life coach, or whatever it is that you go to for advice on your life. But every now and again, I have a few gems of wisdom that I would like to share with your surreal existance.

Take my words to the heart. They will one day save your career. Trust me on this. You ready.....

"Stop having sex in front of camcorders."

It's very easy. Sure you have sex. You're a celebrity. I don't blame you. Personally if I were in your shoes I would be having sex right now while reading this. However, I wouldn't be doing it in front of a camera of any sorts. Especially one that takes motion pictures.

It worked for Paris Hilton. Heck, it sorta worked for Scott Stapp and Kid Rock. But do you really want to fall into that category? I mean come on. You're a celebrity. Look at the things you've accomplished.

Then look at Paris Hilton. Her last name is her only fame. Other than that, you and I both know that is one dumb ass bitch. And Stapp? Well watch him on TV sometime. He somehow always manages to find himself on some Celebrity Poker Showdown or some other crap like that making an ass of himself. As for Kid Rock? Well...come now...who needs to be in the same league as white trash. Let the sex tape scandals go to those freaks. After all, their own merits can't get them the recognition they seek.

So the next time you shag, just take a glance around. The whole world doesn't need to see your weewee.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Cro-Magnon Man

According to Wikipedia, Cro-Magnon man lived about 35,000 to 10,000 years ago in the Upper Paleothici period of the Pleistocene epoch. (Apparently, having difficult to pronounce names gives the illusion of significance in the scientific world.)

But anywho, I beg to differ. And don't think I'm on some creationist trip either. Granted, I might possibly believe the Earth to be young. But that shouldn't discredit the information I am about to share.

You see, I'm not on a rampage to prove evolutionists wrong. I just like to prove myself correct. And at last I have proof.

Cro-Magnon man didn't live 10,000+ years ago. That fucker still walks the Earth today. I seen him with my own eyes. So in a sense, I'm about to prove how both creationists and evolutionists are correct.


Johnny "Neanderthal" Damon is living proof that Cro-Magnon man exists. I mean, good God look at the size of that dude's head. If Johnny Damon died today, and I had some scientific nitwit undig his bones 10 years from now he would swear up and down he found the missing link.

I mean how ugly can a guy get? Everytime I see that man's face it makes me want to beat the piss out of my cat.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

I'm a Little Bitch


Generally it takes a lot to intimidate me. Growing up as a kid I was involved in gang violence, been beat, been shot at, etc etc. You know...the sob story every ghetto stricken teen tells when they are fishing for sympathy.

Furthermore, I suffered through the second hardest military training the Army offers. I've been hit, yelled at, and threatened by the scariest of men outranking myself.

So I'm a bit desensitized. Perhaps that's why I'm such a prick at times. Who knows? I care not to give myself a psychological evalution at this point in time.

However, I have a weakness. A terrible weakness. I'm a little bitch when it comes to roller coasters. The damn thing doesn't even need to do loops and it'll have me all fucked up. I just can't handle them and I have no idea why. Oh wait...yeah I do....cause I'm a little bitch.

And I have proof!


Just take a good guess at which one I am. That's right. I'm the only one on the ride screaming my head off as if I'm watching my mother get butchered. I mean look at that face I have. I'm not even able to duplicate that look in the mirror. That face is of true terror.

I'm such a little bitch.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Florida Vacation

At last I got to see the ocean for the first time in my life. I wasn't all that impressed by it, as it looked like Lake Michigan as far as I could tell, except the ocean doesn't stink like shit and you can walk across the beach without a shard of glass or a hypodermic needle getting stuck in your foot.

One lesson I did learn as that when you're swimming in the ocean, don't open your mouth. Taking a gulp of seawater is no different than just dumping a handful of salt in your mouth. It just ain't fun.

Universal Studios was sweet. Cool Rides. And who can pass up a $5 hotdog? I mean, you only live once right? I'll have to show the picture they got of me on "The Revenge of the Mummy" ride. It's a look of sheer terror. I couldn't even try to contort my face like that if I tried. Only a horrifying experience can offer me such an expression. When I get back home, I'll post the picture.