Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Remember the Logo Contest?

So anyway, I didn't exactly get an overwhelming response to my logo contest that I held way way back when I sort of tried to get back into blogging the time before the time before last or whenever the hell it was. So I did what I always do when I can't find anyone willing to do something for me so I don't have to. I sat my big ass down and figured out how to do it myself. Turns out that raster images aren't all that hard to make in Paint Shop Pro, nor is it all that hard to turn a photo into a 2, 3, or 4 color graphic if I just read the damn help files and quit trying to do it pixel by pixel like a moron. Snap a line, fill it with color, tweak a little here, tweak a little there and voila! Instant logo graphics! Whaddya think of these?





I did it all by myself.


Peace

Sunday, April 20, 2008

What Did You Assholes Do To Rockstar Mommy?

Rockstar Mommy is gone? When the fuck did that happen? A guy quits blogging for awhile and the whole damn world changes? Shit, no wonder I can't find any peace. I liked her site. Besides that, she's damn hot. What the hell will this world come to now? Now I'm scared to click the rest of my links. Who the hell is next? I can't do it , I just can't. One letdown is enough for today.

At any rate, RSM, just in case you happen to read this, thanks for all of the laughs. It was nice to read a blog that didn't have a damn thing to do with politics and war and hate for a change. Most of all, I'd like to thank you for turning me on . . . . . . hehehehe . . . . . . . . . not that way you pervy bastards . . . . . . . . . . to Sock Dreams. Guys, if there's a special lady, hell, even a not so special lady for that matter, on your gift list, you can't go wrong with Sock Dreams. Sock Dreams is your friend. Sock Dreams Gift Cards are really your friend. Go there, buy one, be loved. It really is that simple and socks don't die like flowers. Besides, who the hell likes a chick with cold feet? What the hell are you doing reading this? Go buy some socks damn it. Go on, get the hell out of here. You're still reading this? What the hell is wrong with you? You don't follow orders very well do you? Screw it, I'm gonna go buy some socks, you keep reading this all damn day if you want to.

Peace.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Let's vent a little shall we?

This is the kind of shit I started this blog for. The days when I'm just plain pissed and need to make someone else miserable. Actually, it's more about making someone else laugh at how miserable I am . . . . . Because making people laugh makes me feel good. I like feeling good.

I'm forgetting how to make people laugh again and it sucks.

I'd like to start this rant with a public service message to Corporate America. Please Click Here.

Now that we've got that out of the way, are there any Mom and Pop companies out there that pay half decent wages that are looking for employees? . . . . . . . . . . . . ~crickets~


Yeah, that's what I thought. Too bad all of the Mom and Pop companies that pay a decent wage have been run out of business by . . . . . . . . . . . . Corporate America! Please Click Here.

I'm beginning to think that perhaps Lotto Winner would be a good career choice for me. It's not that I'm not willing to work, quite the contrary actually, I'm just sick and tired of my job taking up so much of my time and energy. See, like all things in the world that run on energy, I have a limited supply. However much is taken up by my gracious employer is just that much less that's available for the things that I truly care about: My wife, my family, my hobbies and interests, ect. I'm sick and tired of being told what a great job I have. Don't tell me fucker, SHOW ME . . . . . . . . I'm not seeing it . . . . . . . . Nope, not yet . . . . . . . . . Still nothing. Please Click Here. I can appreciate what you're doing, really I can, but your dream is not my dream, so quit trying to ram it down my throat. Respect is something that's earned, as is loyalty. You'll get neither from me by demanding it. You'll catch more flies with honey than vinegar my friend.

I don't blog about work, not specifics anyway. That's a rule I established way back when I started this ice cream stand, but the fact of the matter is that my current job is against everything that I stand for on a personal level. Maybe I'm being too much of a whiny assed little crybaby about it, but I fucking hate hypocrites, and right now I feel like I am one. See my dilemma?

Yep, the winds of change they are a blowin' methinks. Justin is getting a bad case of wanderlust again.


Once again: Corporate America. Please Click Here.

If you know me, don't read too far into this. I'm unhappy and venting, that's all. I don't need a Goddamn intervention and I sure as hell don't need Prozac. Large quantities of alcohol maybe, but not Prozac. Neither do I need any feel good phone calls, if you think that I do you obviously DO NOT know me or you'd know that I hate talking on telephones. What I need is a job. A job where I can do MY job, be left the fuck alone, and not have to worry about whether or not someone else is doing theirs. If my bills are paid and there's a few bucks left in my pocket at the end of the month that's a bonus, and better yet if I can still recognize my kids the next time I see them that's even better, and I don't work weekends. Don't even fucking ask. My family will take precedence over my job every time, no exceptions, so be prepared to take a back seat. I have a good work ethic, I know it, but if you push too hard, I push back.

One more time: Corporate America, Please Click Here.


Our dictionary entry for the day is: Cowboy

Definition: Arrogant fuck in a ten gallon hat.

If you don't like that, Please Click Here.

I'm getting to the point where I'm almost embarrassed to call myself a redneck anymore, because ignorant right wing douchebags are giving the rest of us a bad name. Ignorant Right Wing Douchebags: Please Click Here. And on a side note: The next ignorant right wing douchebag that starts talking to me like his way is the only way and since I'm within the boundaries of the sacred state of Montana and it's a given that I will simply nod my head with a hell yeah and a hallelujah to everything he says no matter how backward and fucking stupid it is might just get knocked the fuck out. Seriously. I'm sick of it. I don't give a shit if you think all the Mexicans should be lined up and shot, I don't care if you think all the gays should be lined up and shot, I don't give a fuck if you think there's only one God and you're his personal spokesperson, I don't really care if you think women should be barefoot and pregnant, and I don't give a flying fuck in a rolling donut if you think George W. Bush was sent by Gawd to assassinate all of them dirty sinners over there in the Middle East. If any of you fuckheads ever put forth the initiative to learn to read, you might want to study a bit before you bring your shit to my personal space. I'm a human being, and as such I have certain rights. If I'm talking about you, you know who you are. Back the fuck off.

Spout shit - watch for fist.

Also, quit sending me shit about putting God back in the schools. If you want God in the schools put God in your kids dipshit, they can take him with them wherever they go. All of you fucks are the same, you want God in the schools as long as it's YOUR God. When little Ahmed or Joey Goldstein or Yang Wong wants to worship their God in school then you cocksuckers will shit a rag baby with a bell on it. This isn't a Christian nation, it never was, but it damn sure isn't anymore. Fucking deal with it and quit sending me emails. I'm not going to forward them to anyone except the trash folder. The same goes for all of this In God We Trust shit, we don't trust in God, we trust in money. That's what drives this rat hole of a world that we live in, and no one gives a shit what phrase is printed at the top of the bills. Our capitalist friends will continue to kick ass and take names on Wall Street even if you printed the words to the Hokey Pokey across the top of a C-Note. They worship the metal, not the maker, and like it or not they call the shots.

Self proclaimed Christians: Please Click Here.

One of the main focal points of the teachings of your so called king was pacifism, yet the most violent acts in history have been perpetrated by your religion. Go figure. Your instruction manual says "Judge not lest ye be judged", yet you judge me. Please Click Here.

In all of my life I've known one or two so called Christians that were walking like they were talking. If you think you're one of them, you probably aren't because I'm sure there's something about modesty in that big black book of yours too. Please Click Here.

OK, I'm gone.

Peace.

There's a novel fucking idea.