Red tapestry

Brooke Tyler is the funniest female bodybuilder. When she updated her website, she lost her blog section. I archived the best comments for future generations. I see myself as being as much of an archivist as a writer. To set the tone of her funniness, here is her response to a guy who invited her to his suite under the premise (not pretext) that he was the guy in Palm Beach who she wouldn’t cave in to: “Yeah, as I read this one, it sounds a little Ted Bundy to me. There must be a reason I haven’t “caved” in.”



Monday, September 26, 2011:


A city cop felt the need to write me a speeding ticket. Was I speeding? Of course. Was I driving reckless? No way. He asked me why I was speeding. I explained that my gas pedal is connected to sensor that sends a signal to my fuel injection that, when pressed, pushes more fuel into the cylinders, causing a bigger explosion, turning the crankshaft faster which is connected to the flywheel…well, you get the idea. He wasn’t amused.



You know you’re a douche when you’re a city cop and you’re writing speeding tickets when we are talking ten miles an hour. No one trusts them anymore and their status from public servants has gone to public morons over the years. You would think they want to improve their image. Writing speeding tickets and picking people out the crowd are not going to do it. I ramble. Anyway, it’s off to court for me where I will have to haggle it down so I don’t have to pay the insurance company’s bounty that they are dying to put on my head.



Saturday, October 1:


I am all about sports and all that, so I have no problems with hunting, fishing and all that. But someone please explain to me the reason I see guys fishing in camouflage??? Who are they fooling?? I have fished in a bright pink bikini and caught fish. Do you catch more fish if you wear camouflage and does the floating boat not kind of give you away? Hunting in the woods – I get it. I do. The concept is sound, even the bright orange camouflage because deer are colour blind. But come on, sneaking up on fish is kind of weird. I would think if you really wanted to fool the fish, you would get some scuba gear and cover it all up so you look like a plant and sit in the water. Doesn’t seem logical, as Spock would say.



Wednesday, October 19:


I love The Walking Dead. I don’t know why I like zombie movies, I just do. I watch them all. I have a theory on how to be a good zombie. Hear me out on this. What I am saying is they run around all stupid and hungry all the time because they have brain damage. My theory being, when they die, no oxygen gets to the noggin. So when bitten, it would behoove you to hook yourself up to a life support machine that keeps the oxygen to your brain while the zombie virus works to bring you back from the dead. You would still be a zombie but you wouldn’t walk around drooling and mindless. Since your brain is all there, you then be that much better at catching the live people because you could think. Just saying here. I could be wrong. But if I get bit, I have a plan.



Wednesday, November 9:


News flash – the NBA is dead….and nobody cares. College is better anyway. Less thugs and douche nuts hocking $200 sneakers made in Indonesia. Honestly, does anyone really care? I thought not. If you said yes then learn to like Hockey. That’s hard to do. News flash – Joe Paterno is a creep and so are all the people who jump up and down to support him. It’s a football game and anyone who thinks a football game is more important than a child being raped needs to watch their child being raped. Enough said, there is no retort. People worry about what I am doing more than they do what the real criminals are doing. People who stand outside court houses and cheer for their team are even creepier. Really, when did that start?



Moving on. There is a red head on TV on some kind of show that is basically about she can remember everything (Unforgettable). I must have her (Poppy Montgomery). She belongs in my bed and immediately. There is a reward for whoever drags her to me. There is a bonus if you bring that blonde girl from 2 Broke Girls (Beth Behrs) along as well. I’m not a lesbian but the honest truth is women are more fun to look at than guys. Sorry dudes. I just prefer to stare at women. They have to be really hot though or I lose interest and go back to guys. I admit that I do stare at a guys butt’s from time to time. I actually had a threesome last night with a woman and a guy. No, there’s no sex tape. Micheal Jackson hired Dr. Murray to help him sleep. Mission accomplished.



Wednesday, December 14:


I should be ranting on politicians or the religious nuts but, screw it, it’s the holidays. They may not be able to take a break from their insane rants and theories but I can. So with that said, if you have sent me a letter trying to save my soul or wanting me to contribute to your bank account (I mean campaign) then I will wait till after Jan 4th to send you my stock “go suck a donkey schlong with herpes” reply. All in the name of the holiday spirit. You know what is killing my holiday spirit? Those screw-ups with the bells at the store entrances. I would give them a dollar if I thought they would stop ringing the bell just long enough to get to my car. They won’t.



Thursday, December 15:


I went in to get a pedicure done today from my favourite Noodle. Yes, it is my racially insensitive word for orientals. They can feel free to call me burger, rice cakes, honkey. whatever. I don’t care. In fact, you can call me whatever you want and the odds are you will get a blank stare back or (if it’s clever) a smile. I don’t go for “sensitive” people. I am not advocating mean, but what I won’t do is call mommy and cry to her as to why the mean person called me a name or gave me a label.



Anyway, back to my Noodle. She is hot and I like to stare at her. I have evil thoughts when she is working my toes. But she speaks English poorly and my Korean isn’t what it used to be, so I just can’t see myself talking loudly trying to explain to her that I want to take her out. So while I was lost in my thoughts, I was rudely interrupted by two fat burger-riddled white women. They come in yapping at full volume about how great their kids are in school and how silly their husbands are.



I can deal with that. Makes me want to vomit but hey…just means I get to eat more. But when they got onto church, they were killing my Oriental buzz. B!tches. Then the two cows moved on to how horrible the internet is…what with all that smut. You can’t get anywhere on the net without running into it. I am getting so bored with the crap out there now I find myself browsing TMZ. WTF? I would complain about Twitter, but it’s kind of hard to get a zillion new thoughts in such a small space. 



Monday, April 14, 2014:


Is it just me or am I the only one who thinks the good old U.S. is getting dumber by the minute? I watched a National Geographic followed by Cops and I swear the Tutu tribe is more educated than a chunk of the good people of Memphis, Tennessee. Let’s get to the Wu-Tang Clan. Someone affiliated with that group decided to cut his cock off and jump out a window. The good news is that the rest of the “clan” said they weren’t on any drugs hard enough to cause someone to do this. Who knows if it wasn’t drugs, maybe he was just in a “snippy” mood. To their credit, the rest of the band was quick to jump into action, they promptly renamed the band to the No-Wang gang.



I had my boobs repaired and expanded in San Antonio, TX. Being that I did it in San Antonio, I figured why not go Texas size? And so Texas-size them, I did. I went so very big that my recovery time has been longer than normal, but that is neither here nor there as I do believe I am now on the downhill slide. A lot of my problem was I went back to working out way too soon. That caused me a few issues right off the bat, but I kept going anyway, giving it the old college try and of course, the senile college try failed. So I took an entire two weeks off and what a giant difference that made. I am so very happy with them at this moment in time that I have to sit on my hands, or I start waving to random people for no apparent reason.



Tuesday, April 29:


My neighbors are all worried about my lifestyle and the impact that it will have on the neighborhood. However, last week, their 3-year-old fell out of a second-floor window because mom was stoned on prescription pills.



Tuesday, May 13:


Back from Boston. It was terrific. The people in Boston are extraordinarily attractive. It must be something in the water. Something about a twenty something year-old who is a family friend sticking it in me just makes me touch myself. Let’s see. What else is new? Not too much, I am just taking it easy here in South Florida. I am getting ready to head back to Charlotte, North Carolina for a week. That should be fun. Hope to see all my long-lost friends while I’m there!



I won’t be anywhere else in NC other than Charlotte. That’s my old stomping grounds, and that’s where I like to hang out. I’m not shooting on this trip, so there will be no video evidence of my trip there. That’s a double edge sword. I have a damn cold, again. Airports and airplanes are nothing but giant flu incubators. This is the second one in two weeks. It could be the same one that just never really went away I suppose.



It’s hard to get horny when you’re down with the flu, and that bites. I wanted fornication today, but I couldn’t. I was looking forward to it all week. One, because I didn’t want him to get sick, and two, it’s just hard to get into it properly when you’re sick. So, I called it off, even though he could have cared less about catching what I have. Sure, he says that now, but when he’s on his way to work sick as a dog, he would rethink that decision.



I have one of those things they call guilty pleasures. I watch Dr Phil. With that said, I have seen his push for his “Dr On Demand” service. So I tried it and I have to say, it absolutely rocked. I found it to be totally awesome. I don’t care if your deductible or office visit co-pay is five dollars, the $40 is worth every penny to not have to schedule an appointment, get ready to go in, and wait around in the doctor’s office. $40 bucks, and it was $40 bucks well spent.



He did the exact same thing any office visit would have done, and I didn’t have to go in. He wrote me a script for some antibiotics, called ’em in, and they were ready an hour later. It simply doesn’t get any easier than that. Again, if you get a cold, and you just hate dragging your ass into the doc’s office or one of those urgent cares, Doctor On Demand blows them both away. With that, I will end it here because my eyes are about to close. I hate catching colds.



Tuesday, May 20:


Today is a travel day. I am heading to Charlotte, and I am laptopping it this fine day. I hate laptops. They are such a pain in the ass to work on. I prefer the big old bulky desktop with the noisy fan as all eight cores grind away at whatever mess I’m attempting to make at the time. Anyway, I am at the airport, typing on my laptop with some annoying lady to read every word I write. What the $#!@ is with that? I should take a topless selfie right here in the terminal and see what she thinks about that. Why I am laboring on a laptop in the airport is simple. ツ



What else is new? I didn’t clean my house. I was so lazy yesterday that I couldn’t get a thing done. Normally, I clean my house every other day and, evidently, yesterday was that “other day” that I feel up and at ’em today, so watch yourselves. I did have sex this morning. Yeah for me! Early morning sex at that. At like 6:30 am in the morning is what I’m talking about. The sex was so good that even my neighbors needed a cigarette by the time that I finished up. I actually stood up in bed and said “yeah!” when he couldn’t go anymore.



I was absolutely proud of myself for having such an awesome ride, like I broke a world record or something. What that record would be, I am not totally sure. I swear that the best part of getting older is that the sex is stupidly excellent. Combine those words and you get stupendous. I’m getting weird about it though. I am starting to try to figure out what, in fact, happens when I cum and that’s harder than what one might think to accomplish. I think that your brain may shut down and restart, just like a computer.



It clears out all the crap stuck in your “hard drive” in more ways than one. Hell if I know though; I’m just saying. Update on the lady watching my screen – she’s still watching my screen, and now it’s almost like she isn’t even trying to hide it. What I do is nobody’s business, except of course, the other people involved in any given scenario where they have a reason to interact with me. I’m talking about maybe three talkative mouths that a conversational girl could sink her teeth into…metaphorically of course. 😉



I am sitting here watching some fat ghetto ratchet chick obnoxiously making fun of an old man who is definitely not quite sure of where he actually is. She is doing this all while stuffing her face with doughnuts and not wiping the powder off her face. This spectacle of obnoxious flub has made me realize two things. First, ghetto ratchet chicks like to complain and b!tch so much that it p!sses them off when their period ends. Second, inside of every old person is a young person wondering what the hell actually happened.



What does this chick think is going to happen to her when she’s ninety? Oh, well, you’re right. She won’t make it past 40. She will die of clogged arteries long before then. Damn, she’s loud! I swear that they clone this chick because I have seen her in Walmart like a hundred times all across the country. Yes, I shop at Walmart, the place of irresponsibly low prices. Give me a minute here, let me see if I can find a bat, I can fix the volume problem quickly and permanently. Just saying. (°⌣°)



Tuesday, June 3:


I’m moving! I am going downtown Ft Lauderdale, Florida. So if you happen to be walking around down there and see some muscle-bound lady running around, don’t panic, it’s just me doing what I do. I had to move because I am living among the normal people right now. It has proven to be such a downer. My neighborhood is loaded with fat wives and their depressed husbands – all of who seem to be spending their lives breathing just to breathe. They have no sense of living.



Nobody smiles, if they aren’t at work, they sit in their house 24/7 unless they are walking what they claim to be dogs. My cat chases them down the street and the HOA (Homeowner Association) writes me letters that I need to leash my cat. It is for that reason that I am not totally sure they aren’t rats. I could be wrong. Don’t get me wrong, I have some great friends here, but even they are bummed out by a zillion things. So I am taking my ball and playing elsewhere. That elsewhere being F.L. Add naughty to it and it’s N.F.L.



Friday July 11:


I got stood up today. I get stood up a lot these days. It doesn’t really bother me all that much if were being honest. It happens sometimes. I chalk it up to good riddance. It’s an easy way to weed out the weak ones. The odd part is most of them get back within a few days or a few weeks later, as if nothing ever happened. I think they have no clue of the weak, pitiful, and repulsive impression I have of them. That impression is forever burned in my mind.



My impressions, sadly, rarely, if ever, prove to be wrong, so I politely decline their offer. Someone said I should set a date up and then stand them up. Tit for tat kind of thing. It’s not going to happen. That’s just not me. I would never intentionally do that to someone. Not saying I haven’t had to cancel but at the very least, prior to our engagement, I call them and personally let them know why. I do have concern for other peoples’ time, feelings, and happiness, sometimes to a fault.

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