The Case is Deep

My father's oncologist is named Case Ketting.   He's a very lovely man.  He is kind, patient and has an excellent bedside manner.  He answers all my questions and always gets back to me in a timely manner...but when I speak to him, the thought in the back of my mind is always, "YOU HAVE THE BEST PORN STAR NAME EVER!"  I mean seriously...CASE KETTING!  This was my gchat:

me:  my dad's oncologist's name is case ketting

great porn star name

 Brent:  deep inside the Case

or Pack the Case Full

 me:  an open or shut case

on someone's case

a case against you

case in point

 Brent:  The Case is Deep

 me:  bingo!

you win

porn title, done.

 

Cancer totally sucks balls but life is funny.

JAM

um...

this morning, i was on the train, hungover and sweating champagne.  i went out to dinner with my coworker andrea and we killed a bottle of champagne and a bottle of chianti and then started our night. 

so i'm standing there and the guy next to me slumps over.  i'm about to shoot him a dirty look because he's in my personal fucking space and then he collapses.  he's on the ground convulsing, eyes are rolling in the back of his head.  i'm totally freaked out and i scoot away from him.  i look around and no one is doing anything so i kneel down next to him and put his head in my lap because the convulsing is making his head slam into the ground.  i am florence fucking nightingale.  and the whole time, i'm thinking, "this asshole better not get spit all over my dress."

so he comes to and tells me that he's diabetic and needs sugar.  i know, i know.  carry a fucking werther's orginal around with you, jackoff.  but this is not the time or place to bitch about it. 

so i'm like, "does anyone have anything with sugar?" 

this guy next to me is like, "i have jam!"  and he hands me a jar of jam.  straight up homemade by grandma in a mason jar.   i pop that bitch open (and it does pop so grandma made it well) and....

well, picture it (sicily, 1934...kidding).

no really, picture it:  i'm in a short blue button up dress cradling a bald dude with a jar of jam opened in my hand with two fingers poised to go in for the kill.  are you hearing me?  i'm about to hand fucking feed a man fig preserves!  suddenly, i don't wanna do this.  it's like every almost one night stand i've ever had- gut feeling just says no.  so i look up at the 18 people staring at me and i scream out, "seriously?  all you people have is JAM?!?!  NO ONE HAS A FUCKING CLIFF BAR?  A STICK OF GUM?  A FUCKING PEPPERMINT FROM NEXT TO THE REGISTER OF THE DINER YOU ATE AT LAST NIGHT?  NOTHING?!?!?!" 

a guy actually laughs and contributes, "or does anyone at least have a utensil?"

finally, a girl hands me a baggie full of strawberries and i feed him three strawberries and then he got off and merchandise mart and someone walked him to his office.

again, JAM?!?!?!  A JAR OF FUCKING JAM?!?!

hey, what's the difference between jam and jelly?

you can't jelly a cock in someone's mouth!

Runts

The other day, I found a few Runts rolling around in the bottom of my Fendi. You know, those lovely candies that are multi-colored and you pick out all the banana because 1) they are the best flavor and 2) you just want to shove something phallic in your mouth without getting the hep.  Before I had a chance to think about it, they were in my mouth.  I ran through a timeline in my head of when I could possibly have gotten Runts.  I think either Halloween or the last time I was at the movie theater which I believe was when I saw the Sex and the City movie.  They were probably sitting on a dollar that was held by a homeless man just minutes after he urinated in an ally.  Hey world, I'm disgusting. 

It's No Shrimping But...

The homos don't have it any easier. TGR was browsing a gay online dating site and had a very "sweet" conversation and sent me an email about it:

Here's a recent exchange I just received on a certain boy-meetin' website. Goes to show that you should never be cordial and respond if the first message has something the tiniest bit suspicious in it. Oh brother.

awesomehunk: Hey Scott here blonde blue 190 6ft. You lookincredible! Go to Chicago a lot. Looking for fun guy with a great sense of humor. Up for a whipped cream pie fight?

TGR: Hi Scott. Thanks. ;) Where do you live now? Pie fight? How's your week starting out?

awesomehunk: Hey I go Chicago a lot. Milwaukee here. Good how's your week. Would ya get whipped cream pied for me?

Well, he knew "a lot" was two words which is more than I can say for a lot of assholes I've gone out with. And at least the gays have a 6'0, 190lb dude that is wanting to cream pie them. Straight girls get 5'4 (means they are actually 5'2), 210lb (means they are nearing 250) dudes emailing us. But what we both have in common? The guy calls himself "awesomehunk." What fucking dickbucket calls himself awesomehunk? And even AwesomeHunk would be slightly better. Take the fucking time to capitalize- it shows you take the time to give good head! No? Is this my art history analysis training going overboard?

Then again, maybe it's slightly hypocritical of me since my username is "GoldenPussy." To be fair, it's not like I went overboard and called myself "PlatinumPussy" even though I preferred the alliteration. I'm too humble for platinum so I'm merely golden.

Greeting Cards

A coworker of mine told me that I should make sarcastic greeting cards. I told Matt this and he made these beautiful mock ups with my words.

For those of you who work for raging cuntbags:

And for those of you who got sent a $600 prepaid debit card with his name on it that is actually only usable at Au Bon Pain or have had the misfortune of dating a jackhole who wears Tommy Bahama shirts and has a ridonculously aristocratic name (heart your face, LC!), there is this card:

Would you buy these cards? They are timeless and seasonless. Hmmm, a new business proposal! Maybe I need to copyright this shit!

Beaver

My coworker, Andrea, had an Evite she forwarded to me.  The link opens up in her account because unless you forward it properly via Evite, you log into their personal account which means  you can change their response (never ever ever ever EVER forward an Evite link to Sawyer).  She originally had that she was coming and her comment said something lame like, “I’ll bring cheese and blah blah blah.”  I changed it.  See below:

The best part is that at the party, one of her friends was like, "Oh, I'm so glad you could make it!  Wait, are domestic beavers allowed to be kept as pets in Chicago?"

Hot Pigeon

Scandinavian Homo:  That is one good looking pigeon!
Me:  You know you are really hard up for a pounding when you are checking out pigeons.
SH:  No but seriously, he's very good looking.
Me:  Get a fucking boyfriend.