My Addiction

I’m embarrassed, I’m ashamed and I’m weak because I have an addiction.  I’m not proud of what it does to me.  I’m not proud of what I do to get it.  But I do it anyway.

When I first roll out of bed, it nags at me like a hangnail.

“Come get me, you know you need me.  You know you can’t make it an hour without me,” it whispers knowingly in the back of my mind.

I look around my house in odd corners hoping to find a couple of quarters or dimes.  If I can’t find enough there, I lift up my car seats and scour underneath to find the right amount to pay for my it.

Once I find enough change, I get into the car.  I don’t brush my teeth, I don’t bathe, I simply put the car in drive and get there as quickly as possible. Continue reading

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Laughing at an Atheist

atheist-logic-101The other day at about 4:30 in the afternoon, I was sitting on my couch catching up with Dexter on my DVR.  My doorbell rang, which was odd for this time of day.

Most of my friends come to my garage door and my doorbell is usually silent.  I expected either and an alarm or yard fertilizer salesman.

But to my surprise I opened the door to find two attractive women dressed nicely and smiling at me.

“Hello.  We are sorry to bother you, but we are from the new Baptist church down the road and wanted to introduce ourselves,” one of them said.

Then, before I could reply, the other woman said, “What church do you attend?”

Wow, they really got right to the point.  Southern Baptists rarely have any shame whatsoever, especially when they are recruiting or drinking Mountain Dew and eating deep-fried foods.  At this point, I wished I had an open can of beer in my hand and was a black dude.

“Well, my wife doesn’t go to church and I’m an atheist,” I replied politely. Continue reading

Ode to Mountain Dew

(I thought I would re-post this for some of my newer followers and since I continue to struggle with this addiction)

According to Wikipedia, in 1940 two Tennessee beverage bottlers named Barney and Ally Hartman invented the formula for Mountain Dew. 

Below is my tribute to those two fine men:

I walked into the 7-11 and quickly made my way to the back of the store where the drink coolers are located.  Immediately, I could see it staring back at me.

The 12-ounce, green canned goddess looking into my eyes.

It was screaming, “touch me, open me, drink me down you dirty boy.  I won’t quench your thirst, but I taste so good, so slippery and so sugary.  Everyone is drinking me, just take me, take me now.”

I couldn’t resist, I grabbed it and jumped to the cashier and butted in front of an old lady with blue hair and a walker.  I couldn’t wait.

Beads of sweat began trickling down my forehead towards my nose.  The cashier looked at me like I was a crack or meth head looking for my next hit.  Well, she wasn’t that far off.

Much like meth addiction, if I continue my assault on these green canned goddesses, my teeth are sure to start dropping out of my mouth indiscriminately. Continue reading

Oxycontin; A Hillbilly Drugstore Tale

My cousin was on vacation with his family last week and he took this picture while they were in Tennessee going into a drug store. You know, just when I start to give hillbillies some credit, they have to go and post a sign like this.

This is truly sad. I feel terrible for the poor people of this hillbilly town. They used to be able to round up the whole family, drive down from their hillside trailer to go shopping at their local drug store.

The same drug store where they could buy spam, Mountain Dew, beef jerky, rent movies, get a tan, apply for unemployment (again), get free flu shots, get checked for swine flu, buy chlorine for their gene pool and last, but not least, steal Oxycontin to grind down and snort for good fun.

What are these poor people going to do now? Who is going to tell them that they won’t be able to steal any more Oxycontin.

I fear this could lead to a major Hillbilly Rebellion. It could be worse than Darfur, worse than Bosnia, worse than Tienanmen Square or even worse than Iraq and Iran.

Could you imagine a mob of confederate flag toting, over-all wearing, Mountain Dew guzzling hillbillies descending into town in search of Oxycontin?

Dear God, dear Allah, dear Buddha, dear Hindu and dear Krishna, what in the hell is Tennessee going to do now?

I think I have the answer: Just put up a sign at the edge of a hill that says, “Jump For Free WWE Wrastling Tickets!!!”

PROBLEM SOLVED, the hillbilly uprising averted.

Why the Election Doesn’t Matter (Dear Mouthbreathers)

(The election doesn’t really matter because the mouthbreathers have already won)

Dear Mouthbreathers,

Thanks so much for voting on election day, the rest of us who read books truly appreciate it. (sarcasm)  I do worry though that you may be confused with the ballot. 

After all, it’s a bit more difficult to understand than the Waffle House picture menus you are used to.  Remember, you can’t vote for “covered” or “smothered”, because the major candidates are already consumed with both and you don’t have to choose.

Mouthbreathers for Obama: Thanks for casting your vote solely because his skin is a somewhat darker than the white candidate.  You do realize that he’s a half-white, correct?

You do realize that Obama is Harvard educated and has never even attempted to walk in your ghetto scarred shoes, correct?  You do realize that he’s about as close to ghetto as you are as close to knowing where Harvard is, correct?

Thanks again for casting your vote because you thought he was going to pay your gas bill.

Mouthbreathers for Romney: Wow, you dumb-ass, bible thumping crackers make me want to peel my pale skin from my bones and throw out all my Mountain Dew.

NEWSFLASH- He’s a fucking Mormon.  That’s right, magical-fucking-underwear.  Wow, well done religious right.  Continue reading

Strip Club Babysitter- the White Trash Chronicles

I’m going to start this new series where I occasionally comment on real news stories involving anything “white-trash” related.  These stories will all lend credibility to my belief that America should institute a “mandatory sterilization” policy for all people who should not be allowed to breed.

For example; Casey Anthony, all of the Kardashians, Lil’Wayne, all white supremacists, the Osmonds, Rush Limbaugh, etc.

The stories speak for themselves.

Chapter I. Strip Club Babysitter

A couple left their 4 year-old child in their car for an hour while they went into a Florida strip club.  Now, although the parents appear to be of Hispanic descent, this is definitely an act taken directly from the “white trash handbook of life.”

Please remember, I’m using the term “handbook” very loosely here.  It’s more like life directions whittled into the wood steps of their trailers.

By the way, it was about 88 degrees that day and probably over 100 inside a car.

But, if these parents truly followed white trash laws, they would have left the window cracked and given their child a few Red Bulls, pixie sticks and a cigarette to play with.  No lighter though, they wouldn’t want their kid to set the family Datsun on fire.

How about this?

Dad– open your legs and now we take your balls.

Mom– put your feet in the stirrups and get ready to have your uterus harvested.

There is no reason in the world why these two should ever be allowed to breed again.  Go ahead, try to tell me I’m wrong here.

Lazy, Selfish Blogger

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Hello, my name is Bixby and I’m addicted to being a lazy, selfish blogger.

I feel I owe the WordPress blogging community a bit of an apology.  Don’t worry, I’m not in a 12 step program, I just fell a little bad.

Confession time; I’m a lazy, selfish blogger.  I love to write and post my stories on here and I love it even more when people enjoy what I write, comment and follow me.  It kind of makes me feel like the pretty girl said yes to me when I asked her to the dance.

But then, just as I should be replying to comments and reading the blogs of those who follow me, a sudden urge of “holy shit, I can’t move from the couch to get to my desktop to log in sets in with a vengeance.”  It pisses me off because I truly enjoy reading many of your blogs, I really do.   I owe a special apology to MRMARYMUTHAFUCKINGPOPPINS (A Spoonful of Suga) who took me under his brilliant blogging wing.  Forgive me, my brother.

Please forgive my addiction to couches, Mountain Dew, Cheetohs and TMZ.  Forgive me for sometimes being a typical, sedentary American who becomes lost in flashy gadgets and the bright lights of television.  I’m only human.

But, I pledge to you that I will begin to reverse the horrible virus that has infected me.  I will try to do better.  In my defense, I did start a new job a couple months ago and I’ve been working my ass off.  And I am a father, a husband and those responsibilities will always come first.

But damn, I wish I could write everyday and someone would pay me for it.  I think I’m fucking hilarious, but I’ve found my humor doesn’t always translate to the masses.

Thanks for listening.