Don’t Be Such A Serious Blogger

Not long ago I received an email from someone who said that I shouldn’t be such a serious blogger. I thanked them profusely for their advice and then asked them if they were a Nigerian prince who just happened to be interested in sharing their fortune with me.

Sadly they were not…interested in sharing their fortune with me.  I haven’t any clue as to whether they really were a Nigerian prince and or wealthy. That is because they didn’t respond to my email. It hurt my feelings and I decided to send them a letter letting them know this.

That is because I have been taught that men shouldn’t hold our feelings in. It is bad for our hearts or so I was told.

So I wrote him a letter that looked something like this.

“Dear Mr. Foosengoosen,

I am quite upset with your lack of response regarding my inquiry into your lineage and personal wealth. If you are indeed a Nigerian prince you should let me know immediately and should also consider  sharing your fortune with me.

There are many reasons why you should do this not the least of which is because I said please…twice. Hell, if you were my employer and I were a millenial you would be able to expect to receive a strongly worded letter and  a telephone call from my parents about your rude behavior.

That lack of response might have sent me over the edge because I grew up in a world in which unicorns were plentiful, rainbows colorful and everyone received a trophy for being able to breathe.

Sadly this is not the world I grew up in. I come from the seventies a time of bad fashion and silly television shows. We were harder and meaner than the kids today. I would have gone sweathog on your and told you to shove a hose up your nose or some such thing.

And it is entirely possible that I might have even dipped into the eighties and pulled Miyagi out to train me to kick your ass. We aren’t talking about the nice guy from Happy Days either. No, you won’t be saved by Mr. C. The Fonz can’t protect you nor will Ritchie, Potsie or Ralph Malph.

And let’s not forget what happened to Ritchie’s older brother Chuck. The dude disappeared. I could make that happen to you too.

Why So Serious

Great Googly Moogly Foosengoosen, you have the weirdest name of any Nigerian Prince I have ever known. Not that I have known any in real life or online. Don’t ask me if I knew any in the biblical sense of the word either. The last thing I need to do is say that I support Gay Marriage wholeheartedly but think that kisisng a man is repulsive.

That is because the last time I had that conversation here I got flamed by some loser who wanted to know if I was worried about the Gay agenda which according to him consists of having sex with lots of partners. Now my dear Foosengoosen I have to confess that there was a time when I wanted to have sex with lots of partners, just not at the same time or with men.

Am not bothered by men wanting to sleep with men provided I don’t have to do it or see it. But I don’t really want to watch a man or a woman have sex either. Besides if I did I would have to pretend to be Howard Cosell doing play -by-play .

Now that could have been special. Just imagine what that would have sounded like:

“This is Howard Cosell. Tonight we are seeing something momentous, a boy is about to become a man. I once talked to a young Cassius Clay about such a thing and thanks to my advice he remembered to pump slowly so that…”

Screeching Halt

Sorry Foosengoosen this is family blog so I can’t go into more details.

But what I can tell you is that because you are a selfish bastard I am not inviting you to join me on the great Ikea adventure. That is going to be big and amazing. The great Ikea adventure is the day where I go switch all of the signs at Ikea with fake ones that I have made.

It could be one of the all time greatest pranks and you aren’t going to be a part of it. You won’t be there when I switch the Hoskenflosked with a Skeezendozenker or the Gartleskin with a Crapyouneedenskin.

Sorry, about that, but you brought this punishment down upon yourself. And don’t try to weasel out of it by offering me a couple of chickens and a water buffalo either. I am not bought that easily.

Really, a man of my distinction needs more than that. Give me a black lion and a Bengal tiger and we can start talking.

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