I'm on vacation, so leave me the hell alone.

I've been getting plenty of emails lately, and not all of them are from Nigerian princes and people who want to sell me all-natural herbal penile enhancement pills. No, some of the emails are from loyal fans who have noticed that I havent updated the blog in 10 days.

Well simmer down, nancies. I'm on vacation.

Yes, that's right, even grumpy old men need a break every now and then. And if you haven't checked your calendars, it is Labor Day weekend. So go throw some weenies on the grill, grab a cold beer, and find something more productive to do than to spend your weekend putzing around on the interwebs like a sociopathic recluse with an addiction to free adult websites specializing in cross-dressing Asian midgets being sodomized by clowns.

I'll be back in a few days. Or maybe sooner, if the old ball and chain doesn't shut her yapper. "But Gus, we're here in New England, I want to go on a whale watching trip!" she's been saying all week. I didn't drive all the way to Cape Cod to plunk down my hard-earned cash in order to look at whales. I could do that at the neighborhood Walmart for free, you know.

Anyway, if you're really in the mood to get your daily dose of humor at the expense of others and can't wait until I come back from New England smelling like a rotting squid carcass (for real, folks, this place smells like dead fish), pay a visit to the Awful Dating Profiles blog.

See you soon.

Comments

How to Deal With Having an Ugly Baby

If you're the parent of an ugly baby, you've probably been asking yourself lots of questions ever since your bouncing bundle of shame came into this world. Questions like, "Is this some sort of punishment from God?", "Should I leave him in a dumpster?" or "How much can an ugly baby fetch on the black market?" These types of questions are perfectly normal. The only thing that's abnormal is being the parent of an ugly baby and acting like you have the cutest, sweetest, or prettiest baby in the world. That, my friend, is mental sickness. When my oldest son was born, I was asking the same questions myself. I fell to my knees and raised my arms to the heavens, asking, "What have I done to deserve this?" In the delivery room, I pleaded with the doctor to put him back in because he didn't look quite done yet. When that didn't work, I waited until no one was looking and tried to swap him with a better-looking baby from the hos...

Why Gas Pumps Are Our Mortal Enemies

How I long for the good old days, when gas pumps were hand-cranked and the fueling process only took about an hour or two. Granted, those days took place long before most of you were born, but believe me when I say that the process of getting gas took less time than it does today with these computerized high-tech pumps. Here's what I mean. You pull up to the pump, slide your credit or debit card through, and you are instantly bombarded with questions asked by the pump. Would you like a receipt? Yes or No. "No" Do you have a rewards card? Yes or No. "No", you mutter angrily. Do you want a rewards card? Yes or no. "No." Would you like a car wash? Yes or No. "A car wash?" you ask. "It's pouring down rain, and all I want is five bucks worth of gas." Would you like to try one of our new six-inch subs? Yes or No. "No! For Pete's sake, I just want gas!" Please enter your zip code. "Zip code? What does a...

Honor Your Dead Aunt With A Butterfly On Your Butt Crack

Dear Gus, Last year my favorite aunt died after a long battle with breast cancer. She was like a mother to me, and I miss her very much. I am considering getting a tattoo as a tribute. Since dolphins were her favorite animals I'm considering maybe a dolphin on my ankle. What do you think? If I was your aunt I'd be rolling over in my grave. There are many ways you can make your aunt proud, like becoming successful in your career or devoting your time to helping others (just like what I do). Permanently disfiguring your body with a tacky drawing of a fish on your stinky foot ain't going to make her proud. If anything, it will probably piss her off from beyond the grave. I'll never understand why so many young people think that tattoos are so great. Back in the late 90s my nineteen year-old son come home with a tattoo, some God-awful tribal design on his arm. I told him that if he wanted to pretend he was a jungle-bunny from New Guinea then I was goin...

Gus Muldoon's Infamous Seldomly-Updated Blog

Search This Blog