POST 400!!!!

Yep.

400!

Something special.

Mmmm Hmmmm....

Wrote a song about it!
Like to hear it?
Here it go!




Sun-shine



Blue Skies

It's a wonderful daaaayyyyyy!!!!



Post Four Hunned is here now!



On the twelfth of Maaaayyyyyyyy!!!!! (of 2010!)

Hey! I could have been worse! I could have lazy blogged and you would have had to LISTEN to this instead...

Now that that madness is out of the way... Back to the regularly scheduled madness and rantings! Which shall include renewing the blog list, thinking about another (or no) background, and getting back on schedule (at least ONCE a week)! Peace!!!

SMDH!

I don't know about y'all. But I am convinced that this dude is straight crazy! And definitely disrespectful!!!

Gas, Grass and Ass.

Gas - Put in lawnmower.

Grass - Cut with lawnmower.

Ass - Possible award for cutting grass.

What? Y'all thought I was talking about something else?

Now that you know how part of my day is going? How is yours?

A Dyssturbed Dream, Pt. 2

To recap:
A bicycle helmet, tighty whities and a dog.
It's all I got. I don't know why.
Okay and a raging boner because of the hooker.

Now you are up to speed.

So on we go.
I think the dog is a little amused at my "condition"
I guess it was that look that dogs give you where they look at stuff while leaning their heads to one side.
I bet he would have jokes if he could talk.
Glad his ass can't talk.
The next four blocks go by without incident.
If you could consider walking around in ya draws after three in the morning outdoors "without incident"
I figured it was after three in the morning because the hardcore hookers don't look that good.
So the strip clubs have to be closed and the dancer/hookers need a few minutes to get on station.
I was reflecting on how glad I was that the dog knew where we were going.
Right then I heard some guffawing off to the side.
You know the kind that comes out of SERIOUSLY immature males over 18.
I didn't remember what kinda night I was having, but I knew it wasn't good enough to deal with that shit.
So I kept walking.
Of course SOME folk can't leave well enough alone.
I tried to ignore them even longer until I noticed the dog look back and let out a low growl.
I don't know why these dumb muthafuckas were following us.
Maybe it was the malt liquor.
I know they didn't think they were gonna rob me.
That would have just been stupid.
What did they think they were gonna get?
The helmet or the underwear with somebody else's dick print in them?
I guess they figured the dog was a punk too because they ran up to do a three sided surround.
"Where you going?" said the first dumb ass.
"Home. Why?" I mean really?
"You were dressed so funny we had to come see what's up." why dumbass number to gotta say that?
"Ain't shit up. I am damn near naked at oh dark thirty and I am walking. Obviously my day ain't so good." I thought that was kinda obvious though.
"Hold up man. We wanna holla at ya!" Damn! dumbass 1 are you still here?
"No thanks" What? Are these dudes gay?
"The man said quit walking!" Whoa! Dumbass 3 speaketh!
He must be the king dumbass because he put his hand on me.
Wasn't a smart thing to do.
Cause I grabbed his wrist and twisted his hand toward the sky. And tried to punch his elbow through the moon.
His scream was real satisfying. I guess dislocations are real painful.
It stood him up real nice too. so I could do the same thing to his knee.
Now somebody was having a worse day than me.
You would think that seeing ya boy took out that easy would make you want to flee.
Not these mutts.
I guess dumbass 1 had some martial arts training and figured himself to be the second coming of Bruce Lee.
At least that is what it looked like from the stupid Bruce Lee scream and the little Bruce Lee dance he suddenly was doing.
If I wasn't so pissed, I probably would have laughed in his face.
He tried a quick punch kick combo.
Hmm... Karate. Earned one, maybe two belts. Wonder if he learned DEFENSE?
Six seconds later I had my answer.
He can't defend worth shit.
At least not judging from his broken nose and crushed windpipe.
Right then I hear another scream.
You know the kind that makes your blood run cold?
Turns out that the remaining dumbass found out that the dog was no punk indeed.
I see that there are now THREE people having a worse day than me.
Nothing like a pit bull gnawing on ya gonads to make a day go south.
Then the dog shakes him furiously.
Showoff.
"Hey dog! Let him go! I don't want you to catch anything! A dog with an STD CAN'T be a pretty thing!"
Right then I resolved to change my attitude about dad.
He used to call it martial arts training.
I called it creative asswhooping.
I guess we were both right.
I must call him and thank him.
Didn't know I had it in me.
After about another block I look at the dog and ask
"So Mr. Crotch Chewer. Are we close to home yet?"
You know I could have sworn that mutt just rolled his eyes at me!

Still not home yet. part 3 someday...

A Dyssturbed Dream, Pt. 1

A bicycle helmet, tighty whities and a dog.
It's all I got. I don't know why.
Nor do I know why I am laying under this marquee.
Or why I am literally laying in the gutter.
And it is a wet gutter.
Must have been one interesting night up until now.
I can't remember why though.
I get up and try to get my bearings.
I can't.
I try to figure out where I am.
I don't.
I guess where home is and start walking.
I hear the dog woof softly.
I stop and turn.
He takes a couple of steps in the OPPOSITE direction and stops.
I follow.
At least one of us knows where the hell we are going.

At the corner of the next block, I see a sight.
I see the most beautiful caramel thighs.
And is that a thong she is wearing?
I walk, and stare.
I stare and walk.
I know I must have been staring hard.
Because I didn't realize I had a "reaction" to those thighs.
AND I was forcibly snapped back to reality.
By a playful and feminine voice saying "Is all that for me?"
I am stopped dead in my tracks.
I finally manage to return from fantasy land and look up.
And notice her looking at the same approximate latitude that I was.
Then she looks up too.
Damn! Eye contact! Now I gotta say something back!
"Um... Hey!" is all my brain can manage.
"Can't say I have seen that particular outfit outdoors before." she quipped.
I look down and notice there is a white cone of fabric between my eyes and where my shoes should be.
"You pitch a nice tent! I will just keep wondering about the helmet."
Great! I run across the one hooker with a smart ass mouth!
"Well you keep wondering about the helmet. I am still trying to figure out which of us is wearing the most fabric" I say as I give her a good looking over.
She chuckles lightly and says "Touche'! But you still didn't answer my question."
"Question?" I ask.
"Yeah, I asked if all that was for me" she said while checking my cone.
I completely forgot about that question.
Me being me, I had to ask "Is it free?"
She gives me one of those appraising looks as if she is considering it.
"Not tonight" was her decision of course.
"Just as well, my money is in my wallet in my pants. Wherever the hell THEY are..."
Might not have been much of a comeback, but I didn't know where any of that shit was.
"Well, maybe next time when you have pants with a wallet in them with money in it"
No she didn't!
"Or I can catch you on stage. At the strip club or at the Improv"
Hey! I had to say something! How the hell did I manage to find Jokey Smurf Hooker anyway?
"Ha Ha Mr. Tent Man. And I'm supposed to be the funny one? You have a good night because meeting you in that outfit sure made mine!"
"Well you have a good night too. You almost made my night too! Almost..."
You know as I walked away, I could have sworn that the dog was looking at me funny and shaking his damn head at me!

Part 2 to come...maybe...

Words From The Desert Man

What da fuck?

Da hell is going on up in here?

Look all unused and abused.

Where everybody at?

And what is that smell?

Smell like old cheese farts or something. with... i dunno... onions?

Ah! White Castle boxes!!! Which one of these rotten assed sumbitches farted before locking the door up in here!

Mail all piled up. Judging by the noms de blog, everybody been by. Some of these notes ain't so nice...

Looka here, Diva (know she 'bout fit to be tied), Ms. B. (done went on vacation and come back and still nothing), I will be all day going through this.

I would apologize for the rest of these fools but there is just no apology big enough.

I don't know what is up with these characters, ever since The Dark One talked Brainz into finishing school, things have been on a slide. Biker Dude done rode off to "bike ridin' country", wherever the hell that is. Hoeman been rather happy spoonin' booty lately so he ain't gonna be worth jack shit, or john shit either.

I bet it was that damn Sixty-Eight that left these damn White Castle boxes and the pungent ass White Castle fart that they tend to generate. Wonder how he sealed that shit in though? And why the spiders didn't die? Look at all them damn cobwebs!

Well, fuck that! I ain't cleaning up this joint!!! And I ain't blogging in this shithole!!! Guess I am gonna have to go find these assholes and bitchslap one or three into this damn blogging chair so y'all won't feel left out and such. And to clean up around here. I hear there is some news too.

Lemme get to gettin'! I got some dudes to find!

Later!

-Usama Bin Louie

Post 300!!!!!

I have decided to officially introduce you all to the crazed cast of characters that make up A Dyssturbed Mined. It is said that we are all many people. Well here are a bunch of the ones that you all meet every day.

The Second Sixty-Eight

"Just one quote? Shoot I got far too much material to do just one!"

Characteristics:

• Good Natured
• High Spirited
• Megalomaniac
• Cocky (somewhat)
  
• Silly
• Outrageous
  

Profile: King contributor to A Dyssturbed Mined. Most likely to post for a reaction. Most likely to say something to create a reaction. Most likely to succeed! Most likely to...

Brainz Mc Smarty

"What's wrong? I can probably help with that!"

Characteristics:

• Genius
• Hopeful
• Selfless
  
• Big picture thinker
• Problem solver
• Tech support
• Computer geek
  

Profile: The brains of the outfit. Most likely to play with the layout, features or read the manual. Doesn't post much but makes every thing look real good!

Mr. Suave Hoeman

"How are ya panties?"

Characteristics:

• Charming
• Romantic
• Hyper sexualized
• Horny
  
• Somewhat vain
  

Profile: Most often the fella posting or commenting at The Pussy Chats. Or dealing with Haremites in general. Also the one most likely to get us in trouble with The Wife.

That Biker Dude

"A Box? How the hell you gonna try and put me in a box? There are only two kinds of boxes I like! Ones that contain gifts to me and ones I leave gifts in!"

Characteristics

• Freedom loving
• Rebellious
• Sarcastic
• Somewhat scornful (check the almost hidden sneer)
• Smart ass

Profile: The one most likely to talk shit to ya if shit talking is what you are into! And the one most likely to fuck with you if you aren't! Just because...

The Dark One

"You see what I am looking at. I see what I am looking at. Don't pretend you don't know what is on my mind already if you are tempted to ask!"

Characteristics

• Goal oriented
• Unapologetic
• Impatient
• Cynical
• Elitist
• A touch arrogant
  
• Doesn't suffer fools well

Profile: Known to rear his head when pissed off is the mood. But then again, you started it!

Usama Bin Louie

"Pull up ya damn pants ya nasty little gay fucker!!!!"

Characteristics:

• Mean
• Conservative
• Judgmental
  
• Mean
• Evil
• Anti-social
• Military freak
• Gun junkie
• The Protector
  
• Just don't give a fuck!!!!!

Profile: This is the guy who pops out when The Dark One is too nice a guy for the situation. Will bust a cap off in that ass. May even care if there is collateral damage. Most likely to hatch a terrorist plot against clueless Hip Hop generationers who think that WEARING clothes is not too stylish. Will hit a woman (if she threw the first blow...). Doesn't start things, but more than willing to bring the finishing move! Has only been seen when life or limb have been at stake or The Wife needs a firm presence to snap her back to reality.

He is so mean in fact that he wouldn't even let me post a picture! Tha Bastid!

Um... Usama here. That Sixty-Eight is a damn liar! I gave his punk ass a damn picture! I was even smiling real purty in it too! That fucka just didn't wanna admit that the scanner is fucked up and that Mr. Smarty Pants ass Brainz ain't figured out what the problem is yet! I may have to bitch slap Brainz until the scanner is working. Then I will post you my purty picture mydamnself!
And I don't know why Brainz didn't use a black background to match the blog on the placeholder. I wonder about him sometimes...
Usama OUT!

Uh yeah. Nice seeing ya Mr. Louie!
Fa real though. If y'all happen to meet him, and he is smiling... Y'all betta run! Cause I guarantee you the rest of us already did!!!