Tipping--What a Crock

This is somthing that has bugged the crap out of me for years now. Not that I am against tipping, in fact I am totally for tipping. Tipping the pizza guy, tipping the waitress at the local Chili's, those are fine. Why then in this great country of ours does every damn person need their own tip jar? Good hell people. I'm not tipping the guy that gives me popcorn at the movie theater. Honestly, ok let me think, seven bucks for a drink and some corn oh and here pimple-faced Jimmy is a couple of bucks for you for doing nothing! Forget it. I'm done with tipping people who aren't doing anything special but there job. The pizza guy actually brings the pizza to you. I just think this new tip jar thing is so damn stupid. What's next a tip jar at the Jiffy Lube? End the suffering, end the madness. That's all I have to say about that.

Berndt Boys

Generally it's a rule for me to not write and brag about my kids. Frankly people that never shut up about their kids drive me freaking nuts and I swore I'd never be "that" guy. However, I am proud of my three boys, very much so in fact, so here is my "that" guy blog for 2007.

Here are my three lads:

James is 6 and a mad Jr. Jazz basketball player

Trey is 3 and our resident male model. This is "Blue Steel."

(Show you? I shouldn't even been talking about it!)

Devin is a year old and the best behaved baby in the history of babies. Always happy, he flat out rules.

Hopefully this post will make my lovely wife happy too, she "claims" I have too many gross photos of this blog. I'm not sure she's looking at the right one, all class. All class. Word to your moms cause I came to drop bombs.

Being Sick Sucks

Greetings once again people of the world, tis I Joshua. I, like the 765,000 other people in Salt Lake have been plagued by the flu as of late. Now I hate the flu and having a cold as much as the next guy but there is one thing I kinda like, hacking and blowing lougies. I know I know, Josh we've already heard about snot, but folks, when your life and body is filled with the stuff it's on your mind a lot. Hence the reason for this sweet ass invention I just discovered. "A Nasal Irrigation machine. " What an awesome idea. You see all the good ideas are gone, the Whoppee Cushion, Shoes, and a Nasal Irrigation machine.

Lazy Freakin' Mutts

So hey, in the spirit of this lame ass Dog stroller idea that is all the rage now, here comes this post. I still think if your dog can walk, lick it's own ass, eat it's own crap, sniff a buddy's can, drink out of a piss-stained toilet, and drop a deuce on the rug then they can walk to the damn park with a leash. Now I understand if a poor little pooch or kitty is banged up, maybe a cold or the flu during this horrid flu season, might need a lift. Or maybe that sick little kitty should be home in bed watching Judge Judy. I love that because these jackasses in Hollywood push their little mini-rats around in a stroller that everyone's got to have one. You know what Hollywood, kiss my cute little white arse alright. Now the solution. Instead of pushing this dumb ass animals around to the park and the mall, make them earn it. How about teaching our pets a little self-reliance for hell's sake. I mean someday that little poodle is gonna go off to college and get it's ass-sniffing degree from BYU. Now here's a dog that I can be pals with. This dog is doing something on his own, he's not sitting around waiting to be pampered.





Now for all you hippie pet lovers out there, go spoon with your precious Saint Bernard you freak.

Pee Standing or Sitting?

I realize it's been many many days since the last post, Snot. I apologize to my legions of adoring fans, hopefully this post, with all it's aspects will make up for the time lost. Not really, I just don't have that much fun stuff to talk about, but when something does tickle my fancy I will surely write and lo, here I am. Lot of things happening, like everyone I celebrated MLK day by moving crap from my aunt's house to my grandma's house. Not a bad day, considering it was like 8 freakin' degrees. Ok, now the fun. My little family has been quite sick with the flu and whatnot. My middle boy Trey is 3 and kind of a smart ass kid. He's had what he refers to as the "smokes." Whenever Trey has the runs, the squirts, tank tracks, etc. in his pants he calls them the smokes. Trey also refuses to take a dump, smokes and non-smokes, with the toilet seat down. He instead enjoys the cold, hard porcelain. Even in the winter--What a goof! So anyway, after wiping Trey's behind a good 8 times on Sunday my mind was on the toilet. Now I realize this is rare so bare with me. I recalled a conversation with my old friend let's call him "The Whopper." Whopper was trying to convince me it's better for a guy to take a piss sitting down like a woman. So we debated about this for some time. I can't believe it's easier--I know it's not easier. Guys just stand, zip, urinate! It's an easy three-step method that has been honored since the dawn of time. So I left that conversation thinking he was the only freak I knew. Now I find out that I have another good friend also enjoys peeing like the fairer sex. My question is the hell guys? I mean, damn. Half the fun of being a guy is peeing standing up, using a urinal at a ball game, in and out. Not waiting in line like the chicks do and miss the whole 3rd quarter. If you want to be a chick grab yourself some Julia Roberts hooker boots, do a grab and tuck down under, and where some nice cute Teddy. But please don't attempt to convince me that peeing is better sitting than standing. So what if us "standers" miss the water and piss on the sit, wall, or other item in the bathroom. Alright now. Go and Pee in peace.

Snot--Friend or Foe?

Snot

What art thou? How art thou such an important piece of life? Yes, this is another in what is sure to be a long line of disgusting posts here on the farting to fight terrorism blog. Like the other 12 million or so people that have been sick this holiday season I built up a great deal of snot.

Now, many people think I'm gross that I do this. Instead of wasting tissue and blowing my nose I just try and blow the snot right into the toilet or if you're in the shower "farmer blow" it right there. One note about the "Shower Farmer Blow", be super careful, snot likes to go at funny angles and can get stuck in your leg hairs. Then all day you have leg hairs stuck together in a crusty ball. So, when you farmer blow into the toilet do you, like me, ever have those super long pieces of illness not that don't break? Aren't these the coolest things ever. It's just you leaning over the can with a 2 foot dangling rope of snot. Really, it's beautiful. I mean, a hurricane-type wind couldn't break that string of snot. So, instead of wasting, killing, murdering innocent tissue this January, just "Farmer Blow" it man. This is Josh Berndt, take care of yourselves and each other.

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.