Light and hearty observations from a fat and ugly guy. Home of hackneyed drivel and ersatz-existentialist effluence. Choleric biliousness a specialty, since 1958.

It takes real balls to eat Chinese chicken!

Well, now we know what part of the chicken the McNuggets come from....

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 7:12 AM 11 comments

I.....love....Orlando (not really. Surprised?)

Today I head to Orlando. Lucky me. Orlando sucks.

Orlando used to be a quiet little town. That is, until Uncle Walt started buying up land there 40 years ago. Things have changed.

Now what you've got is a charmless, congested city in the middle of Florida...with no redeeming features other than theme parks. It's like Tampa or Jacksonville, but not as nice, and without the beaches. But with lots of crime, mosquitos (Orange County, where it's located, was originally named Mosquito County), rainy muggy summer days, timeshare scams, traffic, and tourists. Plus the locals hate you, especially if you're a tourist at a theme park. Here's proof.

I wonder sometimes what impression is made on first-time visitors to the U.S from Europe--those who choose Orlando as their entry point. Their first sight leaving the airport will be the multi-lane strip-center-laden Semoran Boulevard. From there, they hit the toll roads. Then, they arrive at the dumpy Motel 6 on I-4 near Disney or Universal or Sea World or restaurants nearby (Medieval Times is a good example of maximum kitsch on a budget). At the parks, they pay their entry fee and stand....in....line, nearly forever, in 90 degree heat and near 100% humidity. They return to the place where they "left the light on for ya", exhausted, sweaty, worn out, winded. Sounds like me the last time I tried to have sex. Jeez.

It's no wonder Europeans think they're superior to America.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 6:54 AM 5 comments

Deflating ad....

If your store has a sale, and you're selling tires, use words like "clearance" or "markdown" or even...."sale". Be smart. Avoid saying that you're "slashing prices", and for God's sake whatever you do, Mr. Genius Tire Store Owner: don't use "blowout"....

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 8:25 AM 3 comments

Turn thy head, and expectorate

Prostate exam humor. Real comments from patients, allegedly collected by a proctologist during the, er, probing:

• "Take it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before..."
• "Find Amelia Earhart yet?"
• "Can you hear me NOW?"
• "You know, in Arkansas, we're now legally married."
• "Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?"
• "Well, now I know how a Muppet feels."
• "God, now I know why I am not gay."
• "Can you retrieve my eyeball while you're in there? Maybe then I can stop having a shitty outlook on life."
  

And the best one of all..

• "Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head isn't up there?"

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 12:36 PM 1 comments

One week to 50 years

"At 50, everyone has the face they deserve"-- George Orwell.

Thanks a pantload, George. Next Friday 2/1 is the day for me and while I'm not in any way distressed about turning 50, I am distressed when I look in the mirror. The person staring back at me is in no way what I imagined he'd be like at this age. Shit happens!

For an "older woman" to be interested in me now, she'd need to be about 73. Sophia Loren at 73? Sure (photo at left taken just last year--great googly moogly)! Nancy Pelosi, yupper (at right). Even....Bea Arthur. But I draw the line there because I do have at least some standards.

We live in changing times. There's all kinds of hoo-hah nonsense out there about "old doesn't mean old" anymore, promulgated mostly by those commies at AARP. They say that "50 is what 40 used to be". Great. If that's the case, then what I have to look forward to is another 10 years of celibacy.

And you shlubbies wonder why I drink.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 10:34 AM 4 comments

Ode to Sambuca

Has there ever been a drink
As lovely as Sambuca?
Its anise fragrance and taste
Packing a wallop
Drunk again, drunk again

Oh, let me sing its praises!
Has there ever been a drink
That tastes this way?
Like a bag of black jelly beans,
Not for all, not to all tastes
Fuck 'em if they don't like it!
But for me, 'tis perfection in a snifter

And now, the verdict:
Yummy. And loaded with sugar,
A diabetics dream.
Black, black, negrita, baby.
Licorice. Lick Or Ish.
Sambuca, preferably the Romana brand.

'Cause everything else sucks the flaming pole of manhood.
Buff my scrotum if you disagree.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 9:16 PM 4 comments

Fun at the D.O.T

For once...a "nice" post.

Regarding the D.O.T--can you believe it?

Next Friday, 2/1, is my 50th birthday and I had to renew my driver's license. Normally, this is about as much fun as having Dr. Dental Death perform a root canal with a blow torch. But this time it was different. Why? Three big reasons:

1. Unlike previous, painful years, I had a strategy: I chose a pretty much rural state outpost to do the renewal. 37 miles from my house but WAY better than dealing with downtown. Big modern building, big modern clean license renewal waiting room, no one there except me and maybe three other people. Empty. I got called up to the window so fast, I hadn't even managed to complete filling out the renewal application details.
2. Non-surly government employee behind the counter. A nice, middle-aged woman who moved slowly and easily. She actually interrupted the process to take a phone call allowing her to order lunch. She wanted an egg and mayo sandwich on white bread -- I liked here ordering style, which I could overhear because the place was so empty ("none of this wheat shit, y'heah?")!
3. All the computers worked and bingo bango bongo, that made a mega-shmega difference.

Total time spent there, from the moment I walked through the door to the moment I was back in the car, new license (with updated, supremely ugly photo included): 13 minutes. I kid you not.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 11:57 AM 5 comments

Back to work, calling in sick

Back to work after the observances of yesterday, including numerous televised re-runs of the "I Have A Dream" speech. I myself celebrated MLK Day by having a dream. It involved this long-legged red-headed German girl I know wearing a mini-skirt while holding a bowl of Reddi-Whip in one hand and a pair of pliers in the other.....but I digress.

Anyway, regarding work -- here are three of the best creative excuses used for calling in sick courtesy of Careerbuilder.com:

• While at a circus, a tiger urinated on the employee's ear, causing an ear infection;
• An employee's dog wasn't feeling well, so the employee tasted the dog's food and then got sick.....and;
• "Someone put LSD in my salad."

I've never called in faked out, believe it or not. You?

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 7:30 AM 6 comments

WTF is going on here?

Caption and/or explain the circumstances depicted below. My guess is that it's a college dorm room; one of the roommates is going somewhere nice with Joe Varsity, while the other is still getting dressed. But I may be wrong. Thoughts, shlubbies?

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 6:05 AM 4 comments

It's snowing, quick, go to the bathroom!

Snow today, and the diptards around here celebrate it like this: go to Publix and buy up every single available loaf of bread, gallon of milk, and pack of Charmin' toilet paper.

Folks in my town apparently spend snow days inside their bathrooms, simultaneously grunting, pushing, chugging milk, and scarfing down slices of Wonder ('cause it builds strong bodies 12 ways). It's a pretty funny visual if you can conjure it up.

I once read that in Florida, during weather emergencies like hurricanes, Wal-Mart sells out of two things: Budweiser, and Hostess Li'l Debbie snack cakes. So, no joke, that's what the Wal-Mart honchos in le State du Sunshine stock up on so they're ready to retail when the Cat 5 storms move through. Amazing, isn't it?

Well, I'm off to the bathroom now. I've got my Mayfield Dairy bottle and a pack of bread. Time to enjoy the winter.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 4:45 PM 5 comments

Death by jalapenos

My body is changing. Inside, I mean. Outside, I'm still a major plus-sized fatty: built for comfort, not for speed. But at least prior to this year I could eat what I want. No longer.

Last night's dinner was two slices of pizza loaded with jalapenos. Delicious, but a big mistake. The jalapenos, I mean. Starting about 3am, the inevitable intestinal rumbling began and shortly thereafter I'm planted in the master bathroom, on the throne, "burning it up" so to speak.

For the first time, you could refer to me as a "hot piece of ass" and it'd be correct. Jeez.

OK, gotta cut it short, cause I gotta cut....another....well, hell, you know. Ouch.

While I'm indisposed, yiz can answer this burning question: what foods "do it" for you?

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 7:45 AM 7 comments

Biggest idiot award ever

Stupid criminal:

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 11:59 AM 4 comments

Louisville is horse country!

Today I'm off to Louisville, Kentucky, home of the mint julep, Churchill Downs, and a certain aunt of my brother's ex-wife...but that's another story for another time (damn...'twas fun!)

Many people don't know that Louisville is the birthplace of strangles. Really, there's nothing fun about having a horse with depression, which is a common symptom...they can't eat, sleep, or enjoy day-to-day activities like being with their family or leisure pursuits like bowling, picnics, or watching TV. They even lose interest in horse sex. At right, an example: the horse has fallen asleep apres la.

Also common over the last 15 years: horses with ADD. Or, ADHD (where the "H" stands for "Horse"). A horse with ADHD has a hard time concentrating on its schoolwork, and may be disruptive in class. Prior to recent enlightenment about equine mental health, horses exhibiting these symptoms were labeled as "troublemakers" or "incorrigible" and were often sent away to military school where attempts were made to whip them into shape. Thankfully, the field of horse psychiatry has come a long way, and typical treatment now involves the suffering horse taking a boat-load of prescription drugs until they are stupified beyond recognition.

Louisville is also the home of Elmer's Glue. Horses who don't "get right" are often threatened by their mothers with this little nugget of knowledge: young horsey misbehaves, and mama weighs in, neighing: "if you don't start behaving yourself, it's medical experiments at Elmer's for you, and don't think we won't do it! Just wait till your father comes home from the track!!!"

The plane leaves later today. Saddle 'em up!

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 6:57 AM 4 comments

Coors can buff my scrotum: when the mountains turn blue

Just how dumb do the beer makers think we are? Apparently, off the charts.

There's the normal stupid TV advertising for Budweiser, Miller, etc., with 30 second mini-stories about how you drink their brands and automatically gorgeous women will flock to you ( more likely, you'll end up a fat sloppy drunk with a massive beer gut).

But lately we've been subjected to Coors ads where 20-somethings are "interviewing" football coaches in press conferences. The point of the ads seems to be: when the mountains on the label turn blue, the beer is cold.

It's not enough that you've already got it in a fridge or a cooler or on ice. No. Even if you do, apparently you're supposed to ignore this and wait until the mountains on the label turn blue. Then it's ok to drink. Not before that, mind you, so hold your horses and wait. Wait for it....wait....wait...damn, I'm thirsty for this Rocky Mountain swill but I'm waiting as per the instructions from Bill Parcells in the TV ad, goddammit, waiting, waiting.....waiting. Now it's light blue. Does that mean it's cool, but not cold? WAIT. Waiting, waiting, waiting.....waiting. Now, finally, the piss mountain label thingy is blue, so I can drink my Coors with complete confidence.

If you've got an old six pack with the original yellow Coors label and no goddamm mountains on it, well, you're SOL and can never drink it.

We're all idiots, apparently, and Peter Coors and his entire family can buff my scrotum.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 2:39 PM 84 comments

Some things need to stay...private

This married couple I know really well defy Nigel's rule #1 which is: it's impossible to be married and happy. For some reason they've kept it together, amazing but true.

They were there, last night at the bar, both pretty drunk, and I start with my regular "marriage is bullshit" and "how in the world do you stay together?" stuff. He comes back with how he keeps her "satisfied". He credited his over-sized John Thomas...she's laughing, nodding her head, agreeing, and I'm sitting there thinking to myself "please for the love of God change the subject, change the subject, that's more info than I wanted to know." I finally steered the conversation away to something else; jeez, who the hell wanted to hear all that? Not me.

But this morning she sends me an email containing a photo she claims is from a recent beach vacation. That, plus one line of text: "He wasn't joking." Photo below. Ewwwwwwww.....

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 8:48 AM 8 comments

Oral Roberts can buff my scrotum

I see where that douchebag Benny Hinn quit the Oral Roberts University board. This in the wake of -- surprise! -- a financial scandal involving Oral Roberts' son, who was serving as president of the "university".

Bennie Hinn is an asshole who preys on the poor by making them believe that Jesus, speaking through him, is curing them of their ailments. Bunions, corns, baldness, acne, whatever, Bennie was able to get Jesus involved to take care of what ails ya.

Asshole. Liar. Twatlips.

He was on the school's board along with other money motivated televangelists. Creflow Dollar (aptly named) was another. Fuckhead. Jesse Duplantis, another. Idiot. All these bastards prey on poor, unsuspecting people who think that the ticket to heaven's gotta be first class, pre-paid, and they're the ones to make it happen and by the by, write me a check now so I can send you a prayer towel, please, hmmmmmm?

These guys have made an industry out of religion. Like that old shithead Ernest Angley, he of the bad toupee and homo-esque delivery at right. Look, if he could cure stuff by laying on hands, why can't he cure his own hair?

True: if you read the Bible at all, you know there's a special place in hell for these slagheaps.
Fuck the load of them, and amen to that.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 8:01 PM 3 comments

I'll take a venti decaf latte, hold the fries

D'ja hear? McDonald's is now going to compete with Starbucks, serving up frothy, expensive coffee drinks. McDonald's sees this as a big $$ maker and wants their share of cafe culture revenue moving forward.

This is nutty. People who go to Starbucks aren't the same as people who go to McDonald's. Starbucks customers are self-important, deluded assholes; McDonald's customers are just....assholes. But of a different stripe....er, skidmark(?)

Consider the experience: McDonald's floors are slippery and slimy, the place stinks of beef and fries, the chairs are battened down to the table legs (so as to allow easy cleaning of afore-mentioned slippery, slimy floors)--and the help? The kids behind the counter? I've previously made fun of the hoity-toity "baristas" at Starbucks, but for my money McDonald's help is the bottom of the barrel. They're the kind of people who need to consult the cash register's calculator to make change when you've given them a $5 bill and what you've bought costs $4.50.

Have you seen the Burger King ads, the ones where they "took the Whopper off the menu" and then hidden cameras recorded the reaction of patrons when told that the Whopper was discontinued? The near-violent angry screaming "get me your manager" shots aren't amusing to me. These are some scary-ass Americans, no kidding. And they vote.

While Burger King isn't McDonald's, the customer demographic/psychographic is about the same for both. Spare me these fast-food people, please; the world would be a lot better place without them.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 7:50 AM 8 comments

It's scratcherific!

A magazine for those of us who...shed. Even my eyebrows do these days!

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 8:25 AM 2 comments

Blog, blog blog

Blog...blog blog. Blog, blog blog blog blog; blog blog blog, blog blog...blog blog! Vituperative comment. Blog, blog blog blog blog blog. Humorous aside, "in quotes"--blog, blog blog blog blog blog blog blog blog blog blog.

Comment comment blog blog blog, blog blog blog.

Feeble attempt at humor. Blog, comment comment. "More quotes"; my rejoinder.

BLOG! Scathing, searing retort!! ANGRY DECLARATION!!! Blog blog blog derisive opinion blog blog blog blog.

Snotty little phrase, blog blog, blog.

Big finish.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 9:54 AM 7 comments

Um...wash the bus....

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 10:54 AM 9 comments

Moomba, up yer skirt backwards

Regular readers of this drivel and spew know that I have strong connections to Australia--family there, and I visit regularly and love it very much. I ran across something really funny that I hope will give you a laugh, even though you may not have ever heard of the specifics before.

The city of Melbourne has a huge cultural festival using the Aboriginal word Moomba in its title. It seems the Moomba festival's initial organizers, back in 1954, asked the local Aborigines to suggest a name for all the fun. They were told that moomba means 'lets get together and have a great time.' The grateful organizers subsequently used the name.

In hindsight, the organizers really should have been suspicious that 'lets get together and have a great time' could be expressed in two syllables. In reality, 'moom' means 'ass', 'buttocks', or 'anus', while the suffix 'ba' means 'in', 'at' or 'on'.

So "moomba" actually means 'in the ass.'

Oh, those wacky aborigines!

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 10:48 AM 3 comments

That guy

You know that guy? The one in the car in the near lane. That guy. You're trying to pull out from a gas station onto a busy four lane road, and the traffic is moving thick and fast and the only way you're going to merge in is if that guy aways away would move out of the near lane...go just one lane over...because then there'd be enough space to pull out and merge in if only that guy would do that. It's just that guy's one car, that's all, otherwise the lane would be fucking empty. And there's traffic behind him in the distance but it's moving up fast so if that guy would just move over you could make it but if he doesn't move over then you'll have lost your merging chance and then you'll have to wait what seems another twenty five minutes for the traffic to go through the whole bloody stoplight cycle and allow you maybe enough natural goddamm space to merge.

Of course, he doesn't move over, that guy, because he's talking on his magnolia candy-ass fetus-eating cell phone, and he's not paying attention, and besides, he's an asshole.

I hate that guy.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 10:15 AM 8 comments

The Last Temptation Of Nigel

One of the advantages of doing drugs on your own is: you don't have to share! Sounds self-evident, right? There's no "bogarting that joint" when you're on your back deck, smoking a blunt solo in the crystal clear cold night, staring at the stars and contemplating the meaning of it all.

So that's me: last night, outside, so cold the Statue of Liberty had her torch up her dress, man it was cold. And I'm firing up a fatty after watching Martin Scorcese's "Last Temptatation of Christ."

No need to recount the movie--if you've seen it you know, and if you haven't by now you won't. But remember how all the religiousites got their prayer shawls in a twist because of the ending, when Willem Dafoe/Jesus comes off the cross and ends up in flagrante with the lovely Barbara Hershey/Mary Magdeline? They missed the point, getting mad about this, as if the original novel's writer (and the film director Scorcese) were trying to re-write the Bible. The thing I took from it is: it's easy to be tempted and make the REALLY wrong choice. That seemed to be the central message here.

I do that all the time--wrong choices, I mean.

So there I was in the fruzzdy-woodle, on deck and enjoying Jamaica's finest, shivering, but....feeling pretty mellow too. And I thought, am I going to continue to make the wrong choices that have plagued my life? Am I going to continue to choose the easy path?

Answer: yes. Hell bloody yes. No navel-gazing for Nigel; "fuck it", I say! Onward and downward....

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 10:43 AM 2 comments

Happy New Year, shlubbies

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 9:42 AM 11 comments