Archive for July, 2009


Okay, I know someone reading this is a computer geek. Take a look at the Facebook widget I added on the left sidebar. Why the f won’t this center?

Like everyone else, I thought it would be handled in the CSS file. But I can’t figure it out. If you know how to fix this, send me an email via the Contact Page.

In return, I will send you a picture of Gina Party’s boobs.


Update 8/1/09: I figured it out…sort of…but send me an email. I’ll still send you a picture of the boobs.

I missed my doctor’s appointment this morning. That can happen when you get home at 1:30 am. They rescheduled it for next Thursday, and I hope I get to see the hot doctor that healed my broken ankle. I’ve got another bone I want her to look at.

WTF did you just say?

I’m not a gynecologist but I’ll take a look at it.


I’ve been spending a lot of time in bars lately. I think it would be cool to date a hot bartender. That would be sweet on football weekends. Me lounging on the couch watching College Game Day, while she’s making taco soup and different kinds of shots.

Wait – how about a window teller at the racetrack?

I can just imagine the phone conversation.

Hey sugar tits, I’m stuck at work. Can you put $20 to win and place on the #3 horse in the 5th at Saratoga?

                         SUGAR TITS
Just a second…okay, you’re down.

Thanks, baby. You’re the best.

                          SUGAR TITS
Anything for you, honey bunny.

You hang up first.

                          SUGAR TITS
No, you hang up first.

Let’s hang up together. Okay…1, 2, 3.

What is the name to call. For a different kind of girl. Who knows the feelings. But never the words.

Vegiie Tray with extra E. coli

This was my lunch today. I swear the broccoli contained E. coli, or something – because I spent the afternoon in the bathroom shittin’ like a hack horse.

I called Issac to meet for lunch but he had already eaten. Here’s our conversation over the Instant Messenger this afternoon. Keep in mind that Issac recently reminded me they monitor the IM.

How was lunch?

Stupid. I think the broccoli was bad. I’ve been in the bathroom a few times.

Sounds like pretty good material for tonight’s post.

I’m not familiar with anything you are talking about. Who is this?

Me neither.

Have you ever ran the dishes through a cycle without soap – because some of them needed to be rinsed off – and you didn’t feel like doing it?

Me neither.

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: “I be freezin’ up in herre.”

Translation: “I am cold.”

Stupidity Tax Offense: Changing your email font and color to some crazy shit that’s impossible to read. Cha Ching! – $10.

Work or not – I will not reply to an email written in cursive with a lilac background.

Well I love her. But I love the fish. I spend all day out on this lake. And hell is all I catch.

Night Diapers

Facebook has lowered the limitation to create a unique page name from 1,000 to 100 fans. This means that once the SOB page has 100 fans, I will be able to secure a domain name like

So I’m asking for your help. Currently, we have 50 fans following the SOB on Facebook. If every fan gets one more person to join – carry the one – we’ll reach the century mark.

If you’re a friend of mine on Facebook, but haven’t become a fan of the SOB, please understand they are different. You still need to become a fan to receive updates.

It should be noted that the SOB page on Facebook cannot be currently accessed from a mobile device. So you’ll have to join from a PC or Mac. Once that’s done, you’ll be able to view the updates on your Facebook page from your phone.

This limited access may be due to the 100 fan member limit. Drink – I said member. I haven’t figured it out, yet. But Lord knows I’ve spent enough time at work searching for a fix.

Happy Birthday to Chico.

Okay, I need to get something off my chest. That’s what she said.

For the past year I’ve shared stories about a girlfriend. I used the italics to (a) hide her identity, and (b) she would never admit we were actually dating.

(a) will not change, and (b) I always knew she was joking.

But the things I used to enjoy about her like…

– Spending summer nights together after a day at the pool

– Waking up on Sunday mornings at 4 am, and watching a movie

– Sending her a text message to look at the SOB because I posted “I love your ass” temporarily on the website

– Walking into my bedroom to find her wearing a pair of my tidy whities

– Her calling me pet names like pussy, when I couldn’t walk after I broke my ankle

These have been replaced with never-ending arguments and the exchange of negative messages.

Easy come and easy go, right? Well, here’s the rub.

2 Drinks – I said come and rub.

She was one of my best friends before we – what do you kids call it today – hooked up.

She was someone I could call at 6 am after a night of drinking, and meet for breakfast.

She was someone I could always call with something funny, or something serious.

She was someone I could meet for lunch, or spend an afternoon with.

Now that’s gone.

So let this be a lesson to you, guys. The next time you’re having a good time with a female friend, catch a glance across the bar, and ask yourself, “What the hell have I been thinking? She’s beautiful.”

Just go home, and whack-off.

Believe me, it’ll make things a lot easier. And you won’t end up deleting another number in you cell phone.

I think I’ll go give myself a little rub and tug right now.

You’re always searching, searching for a feeling. But it’s easy come and easy go.

Fiber Products

I’ve got to figure out why I pee the bed when I’ve had too much to drink. I’ve done a lot of research on this topic lately. Most of the suggestions on the internet say to simply quit drinking.

That’s funny.

I think I’ve figured it out, though.

In college, I drank a massive amount of beer after gobbling handfuls of mushrooms – and never once peed the bed.

So what’s different now? My weight.

I’ve traced the problem to sleep apnea. What causes sleep apnea? Being overweight.

I mean, I’m not huge. Well, my dick is. But I could stand to lose a few pounds.

Maybe my theory would be easier to explain if I put it into a math formula.

(a) Bedwetter
(b) Sleep Apnea
(c) Weight
(d) Excessive Alcohol Consumption


Where (d) is a constant, and (a), (b), (c) are variables.

So, let’s change the formula for the desired result.


If we reduce the value for weight – we reduce sleep apnea to a null value – which reduces bedwetting to a null value.

I should get up early tomorrow morning and workout. But I’ll probably be too hungover.

A conversation today with Matt M

Are you following Larry the Cable Guy on Twitter, yet? He said he just ordered 5 chili dogs, gonna have to wipe with sham wow.

You still bleeding out your ass?

Only when I eat spicy food before I go to bed.

I’m telling you. You’ve got to eat more fiber. My doctor gave me that advice, and I feel great.

Are we really having this conversation?


We used to talk about girls. And now we’re talking about our ass problems?

Hey, I drank 20 beers the other night when I was out of town. I would usually eat a cheeseburger and fries the next morning. But I had a couple of bowls of bran at the hotel, and I was good to go.

I don’t even know what foods contain fiber.

Oatmeal is a good source. So are fruits and vegetables, nuts and broccoli. I’ve been eating the shit out of broccoli lately.

That’s nice.

Later that day…

Dude, I ate two high fiber bars for lunch. And it’s 50/50 I make it home before I shit my pants.

You over did it. Your body’s in shock. You need to ease your way into it.

It would’ve been nice if you had mentioned that earlier. I’ve gotta go. If I don’t concentrate, I’m going to need new seat covers.

(Laughing) Good luck.

Fuck off.

Seventeen has turned thirty-five. I’m surprised that we’re still livin’.

Alcohol Detector

I thought about buying this alcohol detector the other day at AutoZone. But the crowd I hang with would just use it as a flipping party favor.

Sure, we would get together and call it “Game Night.” But sooner or later, this thing would become our Yahtzee.

I’ve been reluctant to talk about the events that transpired on the night of July 4th. Mainly because I fell asleep at 6:30, and wanted to make sure the entourage I left behind got completely exonerated.

I received an email the week after the 4th from the manager at Melrose Place. It outlined, in detail, a number of items that were thrown into the pool that night. These included deck chairs, a cooler, and over 20 beer cans.

The email explained that some of the beer cans were full. This was my first defense. No one in our group would ever waste beer.

My second argument was that my friends aren’t vandals. Sure, we like to keep track of how many beers we drink by writing tick marks on the top of a cooler with a Sharpie.

Who doesn’t?

But since King left the cooler behind with our names on it, we were the usual suspects.

My count was 22.

Thankfully, our group was eventually cleared. I don’t know who did it. But they owe King a green cooler.

And since the day I left Milwaukee; Lynchburg and Bordeaux France. Been making the bars lots of big money. And helping white people dance.

West Coast SOBs
West Coast Style

King brought the SOB back to Cali. I uploaded a few more pictures on Facebook.

Happy Birthday to Abby and Tom d G. I sent an email to Abby this morning to wish her a good day. I also asked if she was still a virgin.

“Not since the 8th grade,” she replied.



A casino sent me a voucher for a one-night stay. It’s almost like they want me to come back, or something. I’m going to take them up on their offer, and treat it like I’m on vacation. I plan on spending the day at their pool, and charging drinks to Mr. Johnson in Room 222.

I’m still working on a story to tell the other guests. The best one I’ve came up with so far is that I’m in town for the annual validation engineer conference.

I think I’ll be from El Paso. Or at least some place that has a song written about it. That way, I can get plastered and start singing about my home town.

And maybe I can get people to call me Tex. That would be sweet.

I wanna love you, and treat you right. I wanna love you every day and every night.

Doggie Wink

My smart phone is stupid.

I tried using the voice recognition feature while driving to work this morning.

“Call Red,” I said.

“Lemonheads,” replied the female voice.


I had to listen to It’s a Shame About Ray four times before I made it to QuikTrip.

I went to lunch with Issac today. Here’s our conversation on the way back.

You interested in playing a little golf?

Hell to the yeah. Let’s get Crowe Dog and Tommy T-Tone. We can play Crystal Springs down by Creve Coeur Lake.

Man, I probably just want to play nine the first time out.

I’ve got this thing about playing only nine holes. You know I’ve got to finish what I started. I’m Mr. Project.


Why would you only want to play nine holes, anyway?

I’d probably be too pissed off to play after that.

Isn’t that what the beer cart is for?


What if you paid for the front nine, and Obama paid for the back nine.


Then we argued about politics the rest of the way. I still don’t know how we’re friends. Oh…beer.

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: “Gurl, y’all goin’ to have to show me dat.”

Translation: “If it’s not too much trouble, could you show me how to do that?”

I come in last night about half past ten. That baby of mine wouldn’t let me in.

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