By Tim Cerantola

I recently found a sex survey on the web. A well-known condom manufacturer conducted the survey. The results were very disturbing, as they suggested that the world's greatest lovers, in order of nationality, were the French, the Americans and the Italians.

The survey results were based on sex frequency, quality, safety and, of course, damned lies. I was disappointed see that we Canadians didn't do very well at all. We finished a very disappointing twelfth out of fifteen industrialized nations.

Well, I have three questions to ask.

1. Why wasn't I asked to list my choices for greatest lovers?

2. Who represented Canada anyways, Alex Trebek? (She probably had to phrase everything in the form of a question, "What is, Oh God, Alex?) And...

3. Were any of you asked to compete in some sort of "worlds greatest lover competition?" I wasn't and I'm a very good hugger. (Heck, I didn't even know we had a team).

True. If you look at the facts from a geographical point of view, Canada has only 33 million people in the second largest country in the world. So, that may give us the distinction of least love making per square mile, but I don't think that's what we're talking about here.

In Europe, many of these countries would fit into Canada twenty times or more, yet they have three times our population. True, that is an awful lot of baby making, but did they really enjoy themselves that much and, were they marking their scorecards honestly?

The survey suggested that we Canadians are a bit uptight about, well, err... you know, "it."

Well, what a total load of hooey that is! I like to do "it" as much as the next person. Hey, if I want to keep the personal details of my horizontal love dances to myself, that's my business (not that I always dance horizontally either).

Now the one thing we Canadians scored (no pun intended) very well at was the in the "considerate" department. As you know, globally, we Canadians have that "nice guy" image. So, I guess we were awarded big points for being "considerate" lovers. (Doesn't exactly suggest that we're setting our bedrooms on fire with passion does it?)

What does "considerate" mean in this context anyways?

"Considerate," from where I stand, is always putting the toilet seat back down or never flushing while your partner is in the shower. But, according to this dumb survey, "considerate" where Canadians are concerned is, whilst making love during the hockey playoffs, we always make sure both participants can see the TV, just in case someone scores... in the game... on the goalie!

Great. Thanks to this stupid survey, the world is now under the impression that we considerate Canadians are a nation of lovers who always say please and thank you before love making, and have a nice day afterwards.

So, who decided these ridiculous rankings?

Who picked the best lovers?

Well, surprise! A French condom manufacturer conducted the survey. Is it any wonder then, that the French placed first in the competition?

Hey, put two and two together (you know what I mean, get your minds out of the gutter.) France is where the condom manufacturer is based. France is their largest market for sales. They're not going to go screwing around, figuratively speaking, with their biggest market, are they?

They wouldn't want France, their largest market going limp upon hearing that they, the French, came up short in the sack err... survey.

As for the manufacturer, they obviously need a better promotional gimmick than these insulting surveys. I've got a real good idea for them. If they really want to get some big time international exposure and notoriety, all they have to do is build a giant, condom-shaped blimp, write their brand name on the side and then try and see if they can land it in the Superdome. Granted, that may be kind of kinky, but at least it would get them some great advertising without insulting half the planets' libido.

Now, I bet if they had conducted a survey on truthfulness when answering sex surveys, you would find that we Canadians finished at the top of the list and the French would probably be dead last, as the only things the French are really good at is cooking, making wine and going on endlessly about how wonderful they all are in the sack.

As for the Americans, well, a lot of my favourite aunts and uncles are Americans. I'd be too embarrassed to ask them what kind of weird, kinky, sexual acrobatics they performed in order to earn that second place ranking.

Anyways, as far as I'm concerned, it's none of any condom manufacturer's damned business how incredibly fantastic we Canadians are as lovers. We just don't like to attract too much attention to ourselves. Besides, in typical Canadian fashion, we don't have to brag about err... "it" - we just put the puck in the net, big time!

Here's a perfect example from democrat rich Harlem from Howard Stern's radio show.  I have to admit that this is a hilarious piece of work they put together.  It's also scary that people can be such dolts.

Sal goes into Harlem and asks folks who they're supporting, and of course they answer, "Obama."  Then he asks them a couple of simple questions like, "So you're ok with Sarah Palin as VPOTUS if Obama wins?".  And of course they answer in the affirmative.

Idiots.  Complete idiots.

Listen to the short track:  Stupid Obama Supporters

I told you, hilarious, but scary.

A friend sent me a link to this website just now. It's an image of Sarah Palin in the White House. The image is interactive. You can click on different objects and scroll over them to make things happen and to make Palin say stuff. Make sure you top off your visit by clicking the red phone on her desk.

So yesterday Daughter and I were driving to soccer. We took the usual route (what else would we take?). On this route we have to cross over a main road. We are waiting at the stop light and there are two lanes. The right one, which we are in, merges rather quickly into the left lane. Waiting for the light to turn green there is me, a car in the left lane, and a beat up clunker behind the car in the left lane.

The light turns green. I admit sometimes I speed up to try to merge in front of the car in the left lane if they are moving slow. But that car pulls ahead quickly and I merge behind them. The road become quite wide at that point, still enough room for two cars, technically, but it is still only one lane.

Beat up clunker car starts racing up behind me. I am already accelerating fairly fast, so I speed up to give Speed Demon plenty of room to  merge behind me and not have to slam on the brakes. But the bitch keeps coming. I speed up even more and so does she until we are literally side by side in the one lane, which has now narrowed. I have to swerve to the right side of the road and let her pass me because she nearly ran me off.

I was irate. I layed on the horn for a good thirty seconds. The worst part was she had a child in the car. In the front seat. I am still fuming and I speed up to get closer and honk my horn again. (Ok, that part was unecessary, but I was pissed. I didn't tailgate her though.)

Coincidentally she turns her blinker on to make a left into the school where our soccer practice is. I'm sure she thought I was following her. She turns into an upper parking lot, away from where I normally park because it's too far from the practice field. But I decide to turn in as well. She parks and I just idle in the middle of the parking lot. She can't really go anywhere if she wants to cuz I'm right in the center, but she's acting like I'm not there anyway. I wait. She has her head turned the other direction, like she's talking to the child thats sitting in the front. I know better though. That bitch is scared.

Finally, she opens the car door and gets out. Clearly, shes an older sister, not the Mother. I roll down the passenger side window and say "Is that how you drive in the car with a child?" Blank Stare. "You almost ran us off the road." The girl flails her hands in the air and says, "Uh - I didn't mean to?" like it's a question. I reply "Oh you didn't mean to? You didn't mean to speed up and try and run us off the road?" She just stares. "And furthermore, a child that size should NOT be in the front seat." Her reply "Ok thanks, have a nice day." beligerantly, like she didn't care, but I know she's embarassed.

I rolled up my window and drove away to park and get Haley to practice. I was still mad, but feeling somewhat better since I was able to vent a little anger at the appropriate person. I was also proud I hadn't cussed or said anything inappropriate in front of Haley.

I had to laugh a little later, though. When did I become the Old Hag Mom that yells at teenagers for driving crazy? Before you know it, I'll be in the left lane going 25 in the 40 MPH Zone.

So i am making a concerted (not like people playing instruments) effort to make this blog as ridiculous and hopefully as funny as possible.  This is my pledge, (yes like boy scouts) and as my esteemed inner monologue just added, just like the boy scouts i am hoping this blog will yield me some sweet NAMBLA action.  No seriously hopefully this will serve as both an insight into my madness and maybe you'll get some cheap laughs at a retarded chap (he's talking about me [smiles and nods approvingly]).

You have been with me through thick and thin. You may not be the strongest, but you are surprisingly strong when I need your support. It's as if you know when I'm hurt even before I do, reacting in my best interest. You don't mind when I'm tired. You don't mind when I'm frustrated. You're the perfect listener, whether I'm angry or excited, depressed or elated. You won my stomach over with your delicious cooking. I think we make an excellent team. You know me better than I ever thought possible, sometimes better than I know myself.

I can't imagine life without you. I would feel like a piece of me were missing if you ever left. I may be as manly as forty ninjas fighting an army of rabid wolverines wearing plaid and army boots, but if you ever left I know I would cry. I want you to be happy, and healthy, and stay with me for the rest of our lives. I know I haven't always treated you as gently as I should have, but you never complain, you always understand.

I remember our first time together. We were so unsure, nervous, but excited, like children but not in a pervy way. And our love only got better with each time. I love making love to you for hours on end. I love seeing you next to me when I go to sleep, and knowing you will still be there when I wake up. Your skin on mine, feeling your warmth. No matter what happens, no matter what life throws our way and what sort of troubles we have to go through together, I promise I will never crush you. And I can't wait to slide that ring on your finger officially making you mine forever.

And even if you aren't the most coordinated, and I don't use you as often, secretly you're still my favorite hand, Lefty.

Love forever and always,

The rest of the body.

PS - Don't tell Righty about this, you know how sensitive he is.

OMFG this show is hilarious.  This is my first time watching, although it's been on the air for a couple of weeks.  It's sort of a Chapelle Show type, but not really.  I haven't seen any skits like The Chapelle Show, but they (Tony and his group of comics) go out on the street and interact with the public...and you never know what they're gonna say.

I give two thumbs WAY up to this fresh take on a old classic.  Tony Rock is hilarious and I'm glad to see him out doing something after All of Us.  (Which was a great show by the way.)  Anywho, support the man!  The show is super funny, I PROMISE!  My only problem with the show is that it's only 30 minutes.

Look it up in your local listings for the channel.  But it comes on Wednesdays at 8pm.

I WROTE MORE./

Although the state quarter program is ending, today is the perfect day to think of the next generation of coin stunts that the mint can undertake. Here are some ideas that probably not going to make it to the top of the list for the next quarter program.

1. Failed presidential candidates

2. Controversial moments in U.S. history

3. Worst natural disaster scenes

4. The women associated with JFK

5. Scenes from the life and times of Rutherford B. Hayes

More failed quarter initiatives to follow.

Hondo

I finally got a chance to visit the (in)famous Doomed Ship and I was very impressed. Environmentally, it rivals the visual sophistication of many 3D shooters. All of this was done with the same tools that you and I have access to -- prims, scripts, and textures. The only missing ingredient is talent, which these folks have in spades.

Now, the Doomed Ship is intended for a kind of Sci-Fi sexual roleplay, though you'd be hard pressed to find a sex bed or room full of poseballs. Visitors can thoroughly enjoy their explorations without doing anything unseemly (for the most part).

Because this is a roleplay area it's expected that you'll do your best to blend in. There are inexpensive environment suits for sale at the entrance as well as freebie avatars if you don't have anything sufficiently dark and futuristic in your inventory. The clothes from the freebie avatars work fine if you don't want to change your entine look. As for myself, I donned my uniform from The Black Knight space station.

Read the rules and stay in character as best you can so as not to ruin someone elses fun with your blundering about.

The ship encourages exploration. The route you travel is usually pretty linear, though sometimes the way forward is not always obvious. The ship is bigger than you think, and each deck has a different look and lighting effect.

Be warned that if you are very curious about clicking things, you will encounter some of the sexual animations, which almost entirely involve being violated by an alien monster. Some of these come straight from Sensual Stoneworks, so you know what to expect, but it doesn't make them any less fun. The narration of these encounters assumes that you're a female. If you're a guy, that moves them from Slightly Disturbing to Pretty Damned Disturbing. "Ha! I don't have one of those orifices! Gotcha! Oh... Oh shi--!"

Lot of rooms seem to serve no other purpose than to look cool, though from a roleplay point of view you can find something to do with them. "Captain, if we keep this speed we'll blow up any minute now!"

If I had a "violated by spider" fantasy, it's been completely satisfied now. Really.

http://slurl.com/secondlife/Desperation%20Andromeda/70/10/1002

Quitting time was marked by the animated foreman as he grabbed the tail of that animated bird at the broadcast equivalent of the Slate Rock and Gravel Quarry, pulled it hard making it squawk loudly and that was our cue.  Down the dinosaur's back we slid.

I yabba-dabba drove home and walked through my front door and into the loving arms of......my cat.

Now, this is the part where you inquire as to why my day was so bad.  Then that would be followed by the part where I explain why.

But trust me, It won't be pretty.

I got to work at my prescribed time and did so in the midst of a nasty thunderstorm.  We're talking a full spectrum onslaught from the angry cumulonimbus above.  It was a heavy rain, lightning...the works.   I broke a number of bones in an accident several years ago and days like this  wreak havoc on me physically.  Walking is tough; sitting ain't no treat neither.  So, I had that against me and then there was the work load.  I had three commercials to write and a slew of other things that while easy, are extremely tedious.   And I'm on a deadline.  My own really, but I make it my goal to get a certain amount done each day.

You have to understand that I am my own Simon Legree.  I crack my own whip and do this "Scarlet Letter" Reverend Dimsdale self-flagellation bit because well, I'm Catholic with a Jewish rising and guilt and shame are what I do best.   That results in stress and stress creates huge, painful knots in my neck and shoulders and that coupled, with the weather induced skeletal pain results in Laurie being....well, a bitch.

After lunch, I hobbled in to the bathroom to take care of 32 ounces of iced tea I had at some generic restaurant and of course, the minute I walked in I was assaulted by the most egregious olfactory insult that had ever existed.   I'm not sure why Satan himself chose to afflict the intestinally distressed woman in Stall #4 with such a malady and ON MY WATCH, TOO!!!

What had she eaten?  I don't know.  It may have gone in as a wonderfully,  delightful gastronomic feat, but it came out as rank, rancid, fetid and vile and this nasty, culinary postmortem in water and porcelain, was making me very, very queasy.  And this was just in the first two seconds of entering Hell itself.  The stench was so bad that it actually changed the atmosphere in the bathroom.  The air had...it had this....this "density".   Ordinarily, I would've gagged and run out but Tiny Tank that I am, had to void--even where prohibited.

With my hand over my nose and praying for sweet death, I took care of my needs--quickly knowing full well that the sad, sad  Shit Bag in Stall #4 had to have been embarrassed by her sinister creation.   Another woman walked in and was far less tactful than me.  She sniffed and said "Damn...yuk!!"

Appropriate.

I finished what I needed to do and ran out.  I didn't wash my hands.  I was willing to risk Hep C, skin eating Staph, Pink Eye and freakin' Kuru just to get out of there with the delicate lining of my nose and throat still intact.

I went out to the hall, took a deep, cleansing breath while removing the two impromptu toilet paper corks I'd hastily shoved in both nostrils.

I went back to my desk and continued to work...only weeping sporadically now.

I was so busy, the afternoon flew by.  I looked at my watch and it was mercifully, time to go home.  I was tired, I ached; I was in no mood for any falderal.  I just wanted to curl up with my kitty, drink a beer and watch "Ghost Hunters" on Sci-Fi.

I packed up my stuff and headed for the lobby of the seventh floor elevators and one stopped just as I approached.  It was empty.  I'd be alone, hopefully.  Great.  I love solitary elevator rides.

BUT NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It stopped on the 5th floor and in walked this middle aged man and as God as my witness, not two seconds after he boarded, he cut a nasty, silent fart. Either that, or he did it right before he entered the elevator and OF COURSE, it followed him in and like this ectoplasmic whore of Babylon, it anthropomorphically grew hands and held my head back by the forehead and forced my nostrils open.

Oh make no mistake, I breathed deep the gathering gloom, my friends.

And might I remind you that I am a well bred woman.  Formally finished, if you will and I know how to act.  I am by and large,  poised and would never shame or humiliate one to one's face, but after the day I had, after the previous  shit storm I endured in the bathroom, I just couldn't take any more.  I'd had enough and I said out loud, "For the love of God!!!"

Embarrassed, he immediately turned to face the corner of the car and stood there, head down, hands clutched at his waist and motionless...like that guy who was getting ready to be killed by the Blair Witch.

The car reached the first floor and he ran out before the doors fully opened.   I exited just as two more people were entering and of course, the stench was still quite strong and wafting about.

As I limped away, I heard one say in disgust,  "My God, do you smell that?  I can't believe she just farted in the elevator!!"

Some days, you just can't fucking win..

.

Me: I almost cut my hair today.

Him: You're on drugs!

Me: I feel like letting my freak flag fly!

Him: That's hard to say 5 times fast.

* great photo courtesy of nathaliewithanh.

http://humor-blogs.com/

An hour later I had to pee.  In the maritime provinces in Canada there are no rest area on the highways.  Everything reminded me that I had to go to the washroom.  The yellow median line, yellow turn signals on vehicles, yellow school buses.  I stopped at a Tim Horton's the use the facilities.  It felt good.  I did not get another cup of coffee, I still had a 45 minute drive to get to the city.

Everything went well at my mothers appointment.  We bought my mothers birthday present, she bought mine.  We had Chinese for dinner.  I bought a few books.  Before the trek back I got a coffee at Starbucks, I only had ten dollars on me see we shared it!  The drive home was uneventful.

Beyonce-Like A Boy[(World-Premeire)]HD+Lryics

I am spending exorbenant amounts of time on this silly thing... but I like it. You can be my friend if you want... I rarely turn down friends... however I have been known to occasionally do so.

Click on the link in my sidebar and be free of retardation... join the facebook world!

Jehovah's Witnesses believe that the second coming was an invisible, spiritual event that occurred in the year 1914.

That's ridiculous.  And hilarious.

"D.L. is a very thoughtful, well-informed guy with unpredictable views, and I’ve always admired his comedy. The basic premise of the show is, what if a guy like him was let loose in the CNN building for a weekend after the lights went off?"

Let's pull out the key words, shall we?  "unpredictable views".

Huh.  Unpredictable.  This means 1 or 2 things.

1. "Well slap my knee, that one is smart!"

or

2. D.L. has some radical, conspiracy theory shyt and we're all going to hate the show.

The end.