Crop Dusting

The other day there was an episode at the office that I feel I must address. At my current place of employment we are situated in cubicles. (Think Office Space . . . yeah . . . did you get the TPS Report Memo, stuff like that). Anyway, as I come sit down at my personal cube I catch a wiff of something off. It's smelled like a dirty diaper mixed with eggs. And everyone knows that rotten egg fart smell, am I right or am I right? So, I'd been crop dusted. I found the culprit I think. New girl. New girl ate some bad sushi the night before maybe. New girl probably destroyed the shop toilet too. But that's disgusting. Although the shop toilet here at "The Office" is another interesting item of note I'll address. I'll admit that I've enjoyed the facilities from time to time, but one thing really makes me uncomfortable. When you go to take a deuce and the seat is already warm! Someone's hairy butt was just where my hairy butt currently is! Now that just ain't right. It ain't. I need a cold piece of porcelain, cold steel baby, like a gun. And one final poop note, the shop bathroom really needs some air freshener. Until next time, take care of yourselves and each other.

Do you play for the Utah Jazz?

Ah memories. Back in a previous life I was a sportscaster in the fine state of Wyoming, the Equality State. One wintery night in Green River, WY I had an experience that has defined me as a man, made me who I am today, for I was a member of the greatest team ever, the Utah Jazz.

After covering my team's game one evening I stopped by the local McDonalds for a tasty dinner. Let me set the stage so this tale can dance in your mind's eye--It's cold, like 10 degrees cold, so I am in a parka and my usual Jazz beanie. I'm driving my sweet azz, high performance Green 2000 Honda Civic with two car seats in the back. I pull to the window and order my chow. The fine gentleman taking my order, let's call him Roy, tells me to pull to the first window, which I do. On road trips for my radio station I used one credit card, a Utah Jazz credit card, to get reimbursed later. So, I give Roy my Jazz card, wearing my Jazz beanie. Roy takes the card, reads it, looks at me, sees the Beanie, and says "Utah Jazz, do you play for the Utah Jazz?" Shyly, I replied, "well, yeah." He then looks at my card and says Josh Beer . . .interrupting I say, "oh, you don't recognize me?" Then Roy says, "oh yeah I do." We chit chat for a moment, wondering why I'm in town. I told him I was injured and in Wyoming to watch some basketball in Green River (that part was true!) Then Roy does the best thing possible, he turns back inside the McDonald's and yells, "Hey everyone there's a famous guy at the Drive-thru!" About 13-15 employees joined Roy at the window hoping to catch a glimpse of the superstar who was driving a Honda Civic with non-custom rims. Roy then asked if I would mind signing a few autographs for free food. I insisted that I pay for my food, which I did with my team-issued Jazz credit card. I proceeded to sign a handful of autographs "To: Summer, Best Wishes! Josh Berndt #24" and so forth. The crowning moment came when Roy's co-worker, let's call him Jeb, says, after getting the prized autograph, "I'm gonna give this to my dad, it'll be the best Christmas present ever!" And I'm sure it was. Here's to you Roy and Jeb, hope you didn't try and sell my autograph on ebay, punks. Merry Christmas to my legions in Green River. That was the best quarter-pounder with cheese ever!

The Verp

The Verp. Some call it gross, others an annoyance, I call it art. Art that sometimes stings your throat. I ate a delightful meal at an Italian establishment (until they pay me I ain't given no free ad placement). Ok so I was at Fazolis with the Fab 3 enjoying a Classic Sampler. Anywho, about three hours later as our meeting back at the Office comes to end my Classic Sampler decides to join us, ah but just a sample of the sampler. A Verp, half vomit/half burp. I feel that verps are a tad underrated. I mean how often do you get two meals for the price of one? It's like getting a main course desert how sweet is that? Unfortunately for those near by a verp, not participating in it, may not enjoy it as you the verpee will. You see verps tend to smell. Mine today smelled and tasted like Heaven. So therefore, I must be an angel. Good night now.

Oh Joey

This is me. I am super fab, duh. I dance, I sing, I act (Whoa), and I am bald. Bald really is beautiful as an old guy said to me once, not towards me but my infant son who had no hair yet, I hope it wasn't for me, but if it was thank you sir. Thank you for loving me for me. People are fascinated by the domed melon. I think it's the honeys that like it. For me, it's really the only thing I've got left, as far as style is concerned. Anywho, that is all for now. Tootles.

Line Rider

Yo yo yo. Check out the website www.linerider.org It's pretty bitchin. My sister-in-law showed to me at Thanksgiving and now we've got tons of line rider fools. Peace out--also Young MC rules.

Urinal Curlies

Interesting first post yes, humorous no! The crime against urinal curlies must stop. How many of us guys want to see other guys curlies suspended on various urinals? None me thinks. Maybe one or two wackos but I for one am tired of them. I am also tired of guys taking a whiz and not flushing. Seriously what the hell? Why? Like the guy behind you in line wants to sniff your "apple juice." There's plenty of these wieners at my work that love to not flush. Is the handle too dirty? Grow a pair Alice and use your sleeve. So that's where this blog begins. Nobody knows where it will go next. Wait . . . did you hear about the magic fart on an airplane that forced it to the ground? Find the article on-line and have a read. Who knew that farts can fight terrorism? Thank you sweet gas, thank you for your fragrance to thwart terrorism.