Tuesday, August 30, 2005


Dear Undies:

Just wanted you to see the top 10 worst album covers. I done stoleded this from here. Let me know which one is your favorite. Definitely tell me if you actually own one of these things. That would be funny.

My favorite?

For me, it's between Joyce and Tino. You decide.

Undr(Joyce is hot)

PS Lets keep our good friend Linda in our thoughts(not in a dirty way) and prayers. Along with the victims of the storm. That skank, Katrina, has made a mess of things. We hope you're ok Lin!!!!!

Sunday, August 28, 2005


It's time to get serious. Hurricane Katrina has done some damage and getting ready to do some more. Please keep the folks in the affected areas in your thoughts and prayers.


Saturday, August 27, 2005

Letters from Readers. Yes, I have readers. Silly goose!

Dear Undies:

As I eat my hearty homemade hamburger, I'm reading some of the many letters I received from my faithful readers. (P.E.T.A. Don't worry. The hamburger is only 30% beef and 70 % baby seal.)

I always appreciate your comments, suggestions, questions and the occasional naked picture(Thanks grandma! Shudder!)

Here is one comment from the enchanting shipkicker

She said...
ummm i was suprisingly enlightened by your list and how you just seemed to really open up and then i got to the part about kelly clarkson and are you f'in kidding? Not to knock your taste or anything but oh well i guess i just did... sorry undr...

Dearest Shippy:

When I first read this comment my first reactions was:

Get the vaseline! Hold my earrings and sharpen my acrylic nails!!!!! IT'S ON!!!!! You, young lady, have just been invited to the cat fight of the year. "

Then it dawned on me. Shipkicker can totally muss me up. I mean, she kicks ships for crying out loud!

After I realized this, I began to reflect on my Kelly Clarkson addiction. As you know this is an ailment I have spoken about with candor. Read this. Thank you shipkicker for making me remember my problem. Thus, I am resolved and I solemly swear to give up on Kelly Clarkson for good. Therefore, I ask you to take out your personal printout of "7 things about me" post, and "Wite out" the part where I list Kelly Clarkson as a celebrity crush. (I know you print out my posts and put them in your "I heart Undr" scrapbook, you cute lil' stalker you.)

Is the "Wite Out" dry yet?


Now write this name in its place:

Hillary Duff.

Thanks shippy.


Here's another letter:

The always amusing, yet terrifyingly violent Terri said...

Excellent interview, Undr! I almost spat my coffee all over my keyboard at the "please feel free to stop by and drop your pants", bit. LOL!And f.y.i. the At Large Blog was one of the first I ever started reading regularly, but sh! don't tell him - I now read yours more often than I read his.


Dear Terri John Jacob Jinglehiemerschmidt:(Hey, that's my name too!)

I am appalled that you would actually say that you read my blog more often than the At Large Blog. Mr. Chianca is an award winning columnist. Granted, most of his awards are his children's finger paint and booger art, but they are awards nonetheless. I know my interview was good. As a matter of fact Mr. Chianca actually emailed me and said that I have a future in fake internet talk shows. ( sidenote: I was so glad he read my post. For two days I was in a dark corner in the fetal position sucking on my big toe awaiting his response. Whew! I'm glad he emailed me. My toe was getting all "pruney")

But to compare this trash to his wonderful blog is a travesty. Shame on you Terri.

Now, Don't think I am just scolding you to impress Mr. Chianca and that I really don't mean it.* And Don't think that I was flattered.* And don't think I was drunk with the sweet nectar of your words.* And Definitely don't think that I encourage you to read my blog all the time.*

Thanks Terri, it means a lot.


Undr(aww shucking!)

To all my readers: Thanks for wasting your time in da corner. Do you have you any questions, comments, insults, death threats or the occasional naked picture? Please send them my way. (Except you grandma!)

Love ya, mean it.

UNDRINI Guisseppe Kournikova

*subliminal messages

Friday, August 26, 2005

WHWLTW? Will the madness ever end?

WHWLTW? What the heck is that? Well I'll tell you, goober.

What Have We Learned This Week? is an ongoing segment in da cornah. It's like OCD but we aren't as neat.
Indulge me. What nugget of wisdom has passed through the urinary tract you call life?

Here's mine.

I learned that Men are Ass**le (OOPS! I put the asterisks in the wrong place. Oh well. )

I came to this conclusion this week by actually reading some of your posts(I always do, I promise) In these posts I read of men who write “Dear John” emails or cheat with their 17-year-old foreign exchange student. (Can you say green-card love?)
And that’s when I realized: Wait a cottin pickin' minute; these guys are the biggest jerkwads on the face of this earth. Not to mention those idiot husbands who don’t know a good woman if a good woman beat them with a 2 by 4 and a Honeybaked Ham.

Of course, this realization brought about another realization. I. AM. A. MAN!!!! D'oh!!!


Well.... wait a minute, let me check. Hmmm. Excuse me while I get the microscope. Okay, yes I am somewhat of a man.

So as a man, I apologize. We are all pigs. Don’t get me wrong. Some men are nice pigs like Babe

but were pigs nonetheless. So I am sorry on behalf of all men in the continental United States and Guam. I don’t know about anywhere else. I guess, I’m sorry for them too.

That’s why I am starting a coalition. The Guys Against Yucky guys Coalition. In this organization I plan to expose the different avenues of, well, yuckiness. Thus making the world a better place. So next time a guy asks me:

“Hey Dude, you wanna go out with some chicks, break their hearts and make them feel bad?” I will proudly respond “ Dude, I am in the G.A.Y coalition. That’s Right Dude, I am G.A.Y.” Then the doofuses will know that I am not interested in any of their shenanigans.

Sure, I’ll get weird looks, but hey, if they can’t stand the sight of a sensitive man, so be it. I’ll take my pale fuchsia scarf and hastily drape it over my shoulder and leave with a “hmph”.

Then for those of you men that are oppressive and controlling. I will start the Hombres Opposing Men who Oppress Movement. That’s right I’ll be a H.O.M.O too. I don’t care. I’m just tired of these jerky jerks.

Once again, I apologize for the awful way men act most of the time that we are awake. For the most part, just understand that we can’t live with out ya ladies. I mean whose gonna cook and stuff, in a barefoot and pregnant type of way?(Just kidding you can wear shoes.)

So please, forgive us, we love you. As for the dumb idiots out there: Stop that right now! You’re giving us all a bad rap.

This is what I learned this week. What did you learn? I'm sure it's not as dumb as this. Share your wisdom.

Thank You, Love, and the occasional groping,
Undr (oink)

PS As I was writing this I received good news. We are starting a new organization for women. It’s called the Ladies Everywhere Stand together Believing bad men Are Imbeciles And Nerds. So when guys come up and you want to show them you are not stupid. Just tell them you are a L.E.S.B.I.A.N.

Double P.S. with chocolate sprinkles: I hope there aren’t any groups with these acronyms. If there are, I apologize. I’ll make the necessary adjustments.

Triple P.S. Make sure you support the Linky Links . Remember, they are people too. Hugs and Bugs.

TBIT for Grody Jo-Dee: Never tried the wacky tabacky, but I love Bob Marley. Does that count? "Buffalo soldier...."

Pumpkin pie is the best!!!!! Don't move to Indy!!!(motto: Great place to bring up your kids, if you don't mind them becoming convicted felons). And I don't think they have internet there!!!!

Seriously, I'll keep you in my prayers Preggers. --UNKie Undr

Late Breaking news: I updated my 7 list. Yeah, I know you don't care.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

7 things about me.....Undrini

Dear Undies:

I wasn't gonna post today because I was feeling a little down. But Lo and Behold Jenniqua my good friend from "Down Undr" Canada ( ha-ha I know it's called the "Sunshine State") tagged me. D'oh.

So I must oblige.

7 things.....

Read on you are bound to realize that I'm an idiot.

Here goes:

7 things you plan to do before you die.

1 Live
2 Not Die
3 Go to Africa
4 Learn to play the guitar
5 Publish something. Book, Pamphlet, Matchbook cover…
6 Be Happy
7 Write a love song

7 Things you can do.

1 I can speak Spanish
2 I can ride a bike. BMX Baby!
3 I can run like a girl
4 I can type.
5 I can remember a vast amount of useless information.
6 I can remember song lyrics.
7 I can do these “about me” blog things

7 things I can’t do.

1 Play a guitar
2 Park a car
3 not be shy
4 Grow up
5 Break dance.
6 Play basketball
7 Cook

7 things that attract me to the opposite sex.

1 Eyes
2 Smile
3 Laughter
4 Sense of Humor
5 Intelligence
6 Creativity
7 Hair

7 things I say most often:(edited for GlitterGlamGirl)
1. D'oh
2. What in the...?
3 Cool
4 Frickin' or it's ugly cousin Freakin'
5 That sucks!!!!
6 Bonehead
7 Doofus

7 celeb crushes

1 Rachel Ray
2 Adriana Lima
3 Rachel McAdams
4 Kelly Clarkson
5 Amy Lee (Evanescence)
6 Angelina Jolie(she has to be on the list, it’s the law)
7 All my blog girls. (this means you...)

7 people to take this quiz

1 Insert name here
2 Insert name here
3 Insert name here
4 Insert name here
5 Insert name here
6 Insert name here
7 Insert name here

So if you want to participate or your name is "insert name here, do so. Thank you. I appreciate your comments, suggestions, insults and complaints.



Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Celebrity Interview, Undr Style.

: Ladies, Gentlemen, children of all ages, and lemurs, tonight I present to you:

Live from Gumlog, GA (Motto: We like the show "Little House on the Prairie". It's futuristic!)

Undr's Late Night Talk Show That Takes Place at Night
Applause machine:(Clap!)
Crickets: (chiiirp!)
Undr: Thank you, thank you. You are too kind. We have a great show tonight. Tonight's guests are Award Winning Humor Columnist and Mud Wrestler Peter "Chi-Chi" Chianca, "Webster's" Emmanuel Lewis and the crazy lady with the animals, I think her name is Jane.
Applause machine breaking: (Cl...?)
Crickets: (Chiiiirp!)
UNdr : But first, my monologue:
What's the deal with "The Quaker Oats guy? Is he really a Quaker, or a puritan or an amish guy? Am I right folks? How can you tell?
Crickets: (Yawn!!!!)
Undr: Okay, enough of that. Let's get to our first guest. You read his blog, you read his column, you follow him around. (Or is that just me?) He has been in the Blogger Top Ten since before Al Gore invented the internet.
Yes! It is World Renowned Humor Columnist and CIA Operative(janitor)
Peter "Chelsea" Chianca.
Crickets (Chiirrrp! Lit: Yippee!)
UNdr: Thanks for being on the Show Pete. For those of you unbelievers, I actually wrote Mr Chianca countless letters( 1 email) and he finally agreed to come on the show. It is an honor and a hemorrhage of pleasure to have you on the show.
Peter Chianca: I am happy to be here(Mr. Chianca really didn't say this. I just assume, he would be happy)
Undr: Let's get down to the hard hitting questions.(These are actual questions I wrote to Mr. Chianca and he responded. Of course, the restraining order wasn't nice but hey, whatta you gonna do? I think I overdid it with the hair sculptures I sent him.)
Mr. Chianca, first questions: What made you decide to go into writing?
Mr. Peter Chianca: "I thought to myself, what can I get into that is low paying, garners very little respect from the populace at large, has high-pressure deadlines and makes me feel like there's a cinderblock welded to my forehead? So it was either writing or cinderblock carrier."
UNdr: Ha-ha-ha. It's funny because it's true. I wanted to be a writer once. It just all the grammur and spelingg, I can't stand.
Next question: Do you have all your cootie shots?
Petey Chianca: "As an editor and columnist, I fortunately never have to leave the climate-controlled confines of my desk, meaning it's unlikely I'll contract cooties. But I work with a lot of reporters, and trust me, they're crawling with 'em"
UNdr: I'll have you know Mr. Chianca that I am a trained cootie shot administrator. In the event that you need one please feel free to stop by and drop your pants. Although, that might be a clear violation of the Restraining Order. So, nevermind.
Next Question: Who were you in High School? 1. Spazz, 2. Wierdo, 3. Nerd, 4. Jock 5. Mr. Popular, 6. Witty columnist for the high school paper?
Peabo Chianca: "Um... Numbers 1, 2, 3, and 6. None of them were particularly effective in garnering the attention of the cheerleaders. I did know Mr. Popular, though, and I'd just like to say for the record: I hated that guy."
Undr: Let the record show, Mr. Chianca "hated that guy". What a coincidence! I was numbers 1, 2, 3, and a cheerleader.
Next question: What advice do you give your kids that may be useful to us?
Peanut Chianca: "Please for the love of God, flush."
Undr: Words to live by, America, Words. To. Live. By. **sniff**
Lastly Mr. Chianca, is there anything you would like to plug or as the kids say "pimp"?
Pedro Chianca: "My book will be coming shortly, once I secure and agent, a publisher, and a topic. In the meantime, visit me regularly at chianca-at-large.blogspot.com. "
Undr: My agent and sock puppet named Sebembo is at your services. Now if we can only learn him to read.
OK. Now we end the interview with our version of 5 questions. To avoid any lawsuits, we will call it the 4 plus 1 questions. So here it goes.
Boxers of Briefs?: "Briefs. Lo-Rise. Wait, was that TMI?"
Paper or Plastic?: "Plastic. Gotta have the handles."
Eva or Zsa-Zsa Gabor?: "The live one. Is that Zsa-Zsa?"
Star Wars or Star Trek?: "Star Wars. No, Trek! No, sorry Wars."
How do you feel about the effects of the war on the reproductive organs of the amazonian tree frogs and the women who love them?
"I'm against it. Er, them."
Undr: Well, lets give a heartfelt round of applause to Mr. Peter Chianca everyone!
Show's Producer: The crickets are dead!
Undr: Ahem, then lets show our silent appreciation for our special guest. Mr Pete "Boom-Boom" Chianca.
Thank you once again.
After the break we will have more guests.
Now a word from our spons....Wait! there's something crawling on my leg. I think that crazy lady who I think is named Jane has let one of here animals out. OUCH! The bugger just bit me. What the...?! Oh, no worries. It just "Webster's" Emmanuel Lewis.
Thanks for watching. Join us next week when we... oh who am I kidding?
PS I'd like to thank Peter Chianca for being a good sport. He is a funny guy and one of my heroes. So, Please read his blog, column and subscribe to his paper. If you do, he might get that pesky restraining order down to 500 feet. Thank you.
Love ya, mean it!
Double PS with a cherry on top:
Please comment on how stupid I am or how great Peter "Diddy" Chianca is. I dare you. Triple Dog Dare you. ooooh!

Monday, August 22, 2005

Take me out to the ball game.. aww shut up!

Dear Undies:

Did everyone have a good weekend? I'm sure y'all did. Let me tell you how my weekend went.

This past weekend, Saturday to be exact, I played baseball. For those of you going, "huh? Baseball? Wot's that? Well, first off it's a game.(Duh!) Secondly, there is a lot of cussing, spitting, buttock slapping and Christian-parts scratching and repositioning, if you will. Occasionally during all this self-fondling, we manage to play the game.

I met up with some friends from Atlanta and we played for 15 straight innings. I was 6 for 10. Which means that I was pronounced clinically dead 6 out of the 10 times I collapsed from exhaustion. Of course, this was during the first 15 minutes of the game.

Let me tell you, it was hot, humid, sticky and stinky... My jock strap that is. ( Why would I wear a Jock strap? Illusion my friends, Illusion. Some say it has an enlarging effect. Not like a fish tank cleaner though. Thanx Anika!)

Although it was hotter than blazes we managed to have a good time by playing endlessly into the night. Why? Because we are men.(By men, I mean stupid.)

As you may imagine, I am not in the greatest shape of my life. It's literally been years since I played. That's why it was surprising to see that I still had it in me. Yes sireee Bob, I can still play with the best of them. (By "best of them", I mean old people)

In fact, I was number 9 in the batting order.(Last Batter.) My teammates strategically placed me there, behind the kid in the wheelchair and the blind homeless guy. It was evident that my teammates had very little to no confidence in me. Nevertheless, I did alright for myself. I made more hits than I expected. And I broke the world record in groinular scratches.(The secret is: scratch vigorously.) Aaah! Good times.

Yes, my undirific friends, we had a blast, despite the blinding pain in muscles that we didn't know still existed. We thought those muscles were gone forever. Especially after the Twinkies got to them.

And so in conclusion, today I woke up happy, proud and in a heckuvalot of pain. I'm talkin' so much pain that the only way to make me feel better would be a massage from an eighteen wheeler.

Regardless, I do not regret my latest sports venture. NO! I embrace it. Besides, where else can we scratch ourselves and not get those weird looks or arrested even?


Hezekiah Gertrude Undrstein Gonzalez-Hyphen-Smith. (AKA Undr)

PS Is groinular a word? Also, Do you have a great moment in sports achievement? Let me know, if not make it up. Love ya, mean it.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

No-L For Prez, in 2009...uh dude...the election is in 2008...Whatever

Dear Undies:

With the upcoming elections, sometime in the next 32 years, it's important that we choose a candidate that will help us with our concerns and problems. Such as, what to wear before Labor day and which moisturizer to use when baking a Sara Lee cake.

The question you must ask yourself is who, who I say, is the appropriate candidate? Hillary Clinton? NO! Angelina Jolie? NO! My sock puppet Sebembo? Probably, but NO!

The answer is right in front of you, if you click away from me and go to NO-L. Yes this is the chick!(For the feminist out there, I meant to say "broad")

Yes No-L is the right candidate for you.

If you vote for her she will make sure that we all were matching outfits. This way the other countries will fear us. There is unity in colors people!!!!

Furthermore, we will be required to learn how to make our very own cake, from a box no less. Lastly, she will rewrite the declaration of independence and make sure all the "i's" have little hearts over them.

So what are you waiting for? Vote hard and vote often. If you vote for her she promises to send you an autographed photo of herself in tiger striped leotards and her acid-wash jean jacket. Oh yeah!

Thank you. I am UNdr and I reprove this message.

Undr(President No-Ls Chauffer and self appointed boy toy.)

PS state the reasons you think NO-L should or should'nt be prez. Remember if you think she shouldn't, bad things might happen. BEWARE!!!!

Friday, August 19, 2005


Dearest Undirinis:

The time has come, yet again, for your contribution to this week's WHWLTW? It's like A.D.D. but ...ah never mind you ain't payin' no attention anyway. For those of you who don't know what the blazes we're talking about, WHWLTW is short for What Have We Learned This Week? It's an ongoing segment at the Underachiever's Corner. So, what have you learned this week?

This is what I done learnt.

My ideal jobs are.... (Drum roll please. No? Then how about a tootsie roll) Bearded Lady in a Circus as Undr. Then a Ping Pong ball inspector as my real name Hezekiah. (Ping Pong balls? I thought you said King Kong's balls) and then Lap Dancer as my middle name Gertrude.
This is my destiny. I feel that as a bearded lady I can do so much for the feminist movement. Maybe now women will finally get to vote.

Ping Pong ball inspector is an excellent job too. There are at least 2 Ping Pong related deaths every 300 years. That is more than enough.

And it goes without saying, that a Lap Dancer is not only a dignified and honorable job, but a slutty one too. Therefore, bring on the laps.

So, next time you see a bearded lady dancing on a biker's lap with ping pong balls in her hand, stop by and say hello.

Thanks job predictor. I guess. Also thanks to Anika, No-L and Grody Jo-Dee, because I stoles it from them.

Interesting fact about Grody is that she single-handedly saved the declining fashion industry by adding a propeller to the beany. Good going Grodster!!! And she and her hubby Bubba, invented a new game called Basket-Drool.

Anyways, what did you learn this week? Let me know, if not make it up.

Love, Hugs and groping:


PS Grody, my TBIT is Astro pops! I used to love these things. They were at one point a weapon of destruction until they flipped them around. Thanx for the memories.

Undr's Complaint Department. It's back and this time it's mad.

Dear Undies,

As you know, we are always striving for the best quality poop in this establishment. We search high and low to make the "Underachiever's Corner Experience" a pleasant one. Unfortunately, we don't always meet our customer's expectations. Mostly because they are all big fat spoiled cry-babies. Therefore, we have opened our Complaint Department once again. Please share any complaints you have about your life, your job, me and that bunion that you keep pickin' at.

What are your complaints?

My complaints go as follows:

Here's a Ditty 'bout Diddy
I can stand this joker:
Sean P. Diddy Combs has done it again. He has changed his name. He is no longer, "Puff Daddy", or "P. Diddy" just "Diddy". I hate this. Why must you do this to us? Why?
Who do you think you are, John "Cougar" Mellencamp?
Diddy, if you keep doin this you're gonna end up like John boy. Let's review how many times "Cougy" changed his name.
John "Cougar" Mellencamp
John Mellencamp
Cougar Mellencamp
John Melon Cougarcamp
John Cougar Melonhead
Cougar MellenFatcamp
Cougy MellenJohn Magillicuddy III
John Cougar Mellancampchimichanga
and of course his recent name
John Meshell Ndegeocello.
Have these name changes helped John's career? No. As a matter of fact, at this very moment he is canvassing the subways of New York introducing his thumb, "Ernie", to the train riders. Why? Because he changed his name so damn much.
So, puff,doofy or whatever the hell your calling yourself, Stop it! Stop it this instant young man!
Besides, every time you do it, I have to change the tattoo on my butt. Oucheee!!!!!
Another Complaint:
Why ya'll gotta hate Tara?
It's appalling to me that people are chastising poor lil' Tara Reid (try this cool game). Some say, she is an embarrassment to sluts everywhere. Others call her a bonafide, grade "A" one-hundred percent Skank. Some even have the audacity of calling her an "overflowing Petri dish of venereal diseases".
I say rock on young lady, ROCK ON!
Who needs self respect and dignity? "Not I" says Tara. So we must stop hatin', and start debatin'(I couldn't think of a better word to rhyme with hatin')
Leave my home girl alone. If she wants to be a drunken mess, let her. It helps my chances of dating her.
Thank you.
There you have it folks. Dumb complaints from yours truly. I'm sure you'll have better ones. Let me know your complaints, I'll see what I can do to please my favorite customer...you.
Undrini "Cougar's Doody" Melonballer

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Update, it's like upskirt but different.

Dear Undies:

I have recieved countless emails, letters and C.A.R.E. packages requesting updates on some of the subjects of my posts.

For example, I recieved 500 letters about my dog Brownie. Let me break the letters down by subject for you. 1 letter, from a reader,inquired about Brown-stinky's(I nickname, its annoying) health. and 499 letters were from readers proposing marriage to Brownie. Two things came to my mind. One: There are a lot of weird people out there and Two: All of them would rather marry a broken-tailed dog than me. That's ok.

Now, You may remember if your memory is still working, that he had a broken tail. Well, he is fine. It's still in a hook-type shape, but he has used it to his advantage. Now he can put this dry cleaning on his tail which, my friend, is awesome.

What about Lindsay Lohan on Crack the cat? I took him to the vet where he was de-flea'd. When the last flea finally died. We realized he was no cat, He was a flea-infested sock. Just kidding. He's fine. LLOC is living with a cat lover. LLOC became his 740th cat. Which is a great achievement in itself.

Come to think of it, I havent seen the cat lover in weeks, and the cats sho' look plump. Hmmm.... Oh well, I'm sure he's alright.

Now, in my post about romantic- icky- poo stuff, I mentioned that Terri(Hi Terri!) was a thug. To my surprise, she is a thug. Just so you know, I had no idea, she could really beat me up or worse, shoot me.

Now, this of course, was tongue in cheek("AragaggH Emahhe Gaargh. Man! it's hard to talk "tongue in cheek") She said nothing prior to this to make me think she was a psycho. That is until I saw the rifle Read her post...or else.

And so this is the update of stuff that's been going on around here. Hope this clears up any questions you may have. And for all of you who want to marry brownie, the interviewing will begin on Thursday. He's picky you know.

UNdr(Updates on the hour every hour ...or not.)

Why is the fat boy in corduroy pants always "it"?

My fellow Floridian ex-pat No-L tagged me. D'oh!

Here are the rules.

"List ten songs you are currently digging....It doesn't matter what genre, or if they have words, or even if they're no good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions, the artists and the tens songs on your Blog. Then tag five other people to see what they're listening to"

Hmm. I love music.

I'm no expert. I love the good stuff and the crap. So, here it goes.

1. Message. Coldplay.. let me just say the whole stinkin X&Y CD.
2. Bend and Break. Keane
3. Living in your letters. Dashboard Confessional(it's old but I don't give a care)
4. We belong together. Mariah Carey ("Wait a minute this is too deep, I gotta change the station...") I really like this song. Please don't shoot me. Ok, maybe just a flesh wound.
5. Collide Howie Day. Oh yeah pure sap, but I lok it a lot.
6. You and Me by Liferaft, no it's Lifehouse.
7. Good people Jack Johnson. Dude, he is mellow.
8. The best of you Foo Fighters. I love these guys.
9. The clincher Chevelle.
10. All the things that I have done The killers. "I got soul, but I'm not a soldier"
11. Beverly Hills Weezer "I'm just a no class beat down fool and I will always be that way"
12. Don't Tread on me 311
13. Anything Kelly Clarkson.
14. Feel good Inc. Gorillaz Windmills are cool.
15. Wake me up when September ends Greenday.

Ok by this list, you must really know that something is definitely wrong with me. Oh yeah, I could snap at any minute.

Ok I suppose you think, that I am going to tag you. But I can't. My conscience wont let me perpetuate this nonsense. So, I decided to let you in on a little secret. Come on, get closer. Closer....Closer...Closer.... TAG You're "IT"!!!!! hahahahahahaha!!!!

I got you. So let me know your "songs of the moment" You can tell me in the comment box or on your blog. Whatever, just remember to wipe your feet before you come in.



PS Please support the links in the linky links section. Remember, with just 23 cents a day, you can help these people.

Monday, August 15, 2005

About me. Who am I? Nobody.

Let me get this outta the way.

Thanks for your comments. Especially all those anonymous readers that are so in love with this blog that they want to sell me stuff. I truly appreciate the Erotic Carribbean Vacations. I'm sorry to say, that I already have vacation plans. I'll be taking the Erotic North Dakota Vacation. But thanks anyway.

Seriously, thanks for your poems, funny stories and insults. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Actually, more fuzzy than warm.

Now back to our regularly scheduled nonsense:

My good unemployed but about to be interviewed friend Gunngirl asked her readers to do this thingy. Because she is a good customer at the Underachiever's Corner I decided to ban her from doing this again. Only kidding! Ha-ha.

Here it goes:

What I was doing five years ago?
I was 25 living in Orlando working for the Airlines and hating every stinkin minute of it.

What I was doing one year ago?
I was 29 not living in Orlando not working for the Airlines and not hating every stinkin minute of it.

5 snacks I enjoy:

French Onion Sun Chips


Pecan Twirls

Lately, Salt and Vinegar Potato chips.

Trail mix

5 books I want to read:

"Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" (Jonathan Safran Foer)

"Moby Dick" (Herman Melville)

"The Portable William Faulkner" (Willy Faulkner)

"Night" (Elie Wiesel)

"Because of Winn Dixie" (Kate Dicamillo) No I don't want to just see the movie.

5 things I'd do with a $100 million dollars:

Pay off my family's debts

Buy a house in Italy and a chateau in France.

Donate to charities.

Start a scholarship for smart underprivileged kids.

and live the high life, boyee.

5 locations I'd run away to:


Dominican Republic




5 bad habits I have:

Nail biting

Not looking people in the eyes when I talk to them

Not drinking enough water

singing out loud for no apparent reason


5 DVD box sets I love:

I own none.

5 TV shows I love:

Law and Order

Law and Order SVU

The Simpsons

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

King of Queens(don't laugh)

5 joys of the moment:



making people laugh



5 ways I waste time:


CD's (I gotta get an Ipod)



playing with mah dawg

Thanks Gunny. If you'd like to let me know your list of stuff, put it on your blog. Use this format or make your own up. Whatever you do, do it quietly. The other children are sleeping.



PS hmm... I should write something funny here, but I'm sleepy.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Ahh! Is that romance in the air or just an unpleasant smell?

Dear Undies:

When one thinks of romance so many different beautiful images shower the mind. There are those thoughts of hearts, poems, roses and power tools. Well maybe not so much roses, but you get what I'm saying. You see, men are technically more romantic than women. Men actually have that threaded into their fiber. Unfortunately, we have lazy entrenched into our soul. Threading and entrenching are two very different animals and words for that matter, thus you see our dilemma.
My dear friend (she don't know me from Adam) Terri (Hi Terri) posted about a romantic outing she had with her gardener Julio. Just kidding, it was her husband Bubba. (Hi Bubba!)
She stated that her husband was a heaping bowl of Romance and Korean movies with Chinese subtitles. On the other hand, she was a putrid disgrace of a romantic. (Not in those exact words, but you get the picture) Terri couldn't, according to her, be romantic if romance got in a car and ran her over, repeatedly. (Which for the record I think is not true. She is the bestest person* in the whole wide world and Canada, Hi Dewey, Anika, Jen-Nae and any other canuck!)

That's when she begged me to write about something romantic a woman did for me. "Well" I thought, "I have had many admirers. This should be easy." (Just in case your taking notes: By many admirers I mean one woman and a flea-infested cat. Hi Lindsay Lohan On Crack!)

And when Terri asks you to write something you better, if not she'll go ballistic on your namby pamby behind.

Therefore, in sheer terror and love, I will oblige Terri, with my story.

It all started when I was an embryo...

Ok that's too far back. Ahhh! My embryonic state... good times.

I was dating a woman named Shaneefa**. She was beautiful, intelligent, and, here's the clincher she was interested in me. We dated for two years and had 17 beautiful children. No, just kidding, we dated for 5 months.

The truth is we were having a good time and she wanted to do something nice for me.

Problem was, Shaneefa was as creative as a thumbtack, but she had good intentions, and I loved her for it.

Consequently, she decided to take me out to eat at a nice restaurant. It was not a special occasion but she wanted to be romantic. I was up in points in this category, since I had been leaving roses on her window sill for a month, so that when she woke up in the morning she would see an expression of my feelings for her.(You see, its threaded into our fiber).

After dinner, we were talking and laughing, laughing and talking and talking and laughing. (Do you get the picture? Good because I want you to feel like you were there, you know, talking and laughing.)

Then she breaks out her gift. It was a little book. A cute little Hallmark journal with blank pages, but you see, the pages weren't blank anymore. On every page of this book she wrote a thought or a poem about our relationship. Little notes about how she thought of me while doing things during the day. Little snippets of "us" etched on the pages of a $10.95 journal.(She left the price sticker on. Ha-ha, cute.)

It was a very romantic gift. Maybe one of the most romantic I've ever gotten and I've gotten many(honest I have) with exception of the fleas that LLOC gave me.
I admit it may not be the most romantic thing you've ever heard of, but it made me feel loved.

So Terrence here are my two cents(.1 cent Canadian) on the topic of womanly romance. Now if you want to know the romantic stuff I've done I assure you there are volumes, but since I have laziness entrenched in my soul...

The end

UnDr (Man, my manliness is definitely coming in to question now. What's wrong with me? Damn you Lifetime movies!!!)

* I say this because I know she is gonna give me a South African Irish beating.

** Real name Boomshackalaka McFargenheimer (Nickname: Agnes)

PS Please give Terri's assignment a shot. If you do she gives me a cut of the profit. Which basically means she will only hurt me a little. If you mention my name she will give you 10% off on a butt whoopin'! What a steal!
Love ya mean it.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

Definitely not a sucky poem.

Dear Undies:
Okay it's 12am Sunday. I read this poem and thought: "Hey this is a nice poem" So I decided to share it with y'all(northern translation: yous) Enjoy. Tell me what you think and while you're at it, if theres a poem you like or a quote or even a dirty limmerick, just share it already. Don't be stingy.

The Saddest Poem
by Pablo Neruda

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
That's all. Far away, someone sings.
Far away.My soul is lost without her.
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.
Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.
Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
PS Hey I am getting soft! Let me spit, burp, scratch and cuss. Ok. I'm back to my normal self again.

Friday, August 12, 2005

WHWLTW?. What again?!

First off, let me thank you for your confessions, they were raunchy yet disturbing. (Roadhouse? Come on!) Send me more!!! I love 'em. It's a fetish I have(ooh there's another confession)

Now for our Feature Presentation

My dearest friends and the rest of you freakly-leaky people.

It's time once again for our WHWLTW? segment. For those of you who don't know or care what this means. It is: What Have We Learned This Week? It's not as cool as the CIA but at least it's got more letters.

This week I learned that even good people, who do good things get fleas. Should I continue? Okay, you asked for it.

Yes, I had fleas. Not anymore, though.(As I scratch myself raw.) How does a person that showers 45 times a day get fleas? Let me tell you, gurrl. *snap* *snap*

SIDENOTE: I know some of you are disgusted, but did you know that in some African countries it a status symbol to have fleas? Uh-huh, You are considered a rich fat warthog. End SIDENOTE.

On Tuesday, I had a very a tiring day selling Boiled Peanut(Pronounced "Bawled Paynuts" in these here parts). Near my parking spot is a pile of junk (Did I mention that my parking spot says: "Reserved for Manager"? No? Well, it doesn't) I heard an unusual sound coming from the previously mentioned pile o' crap.

It sounded like a "meow". At first, my keen senses told me that this might be a possum or a chicken or a possum-chicken. (Ha-Ha! Everyone knows that possum-chickens just burp) After careful consideration I deduced that this was a cat. A kitten to be precise. My perceptive good eye(the one without the patch) could tell that this kitten was of a rare variety called the cutie patootie breed.

(I will allow a few seconds for you to say AWWWWWW!) Ok, now that that's out of the way, let me continue.

That poor kitten was really thin. I mean, it was Lindsay Lohan on Crack, thin.(Redundant, I know.)

My paternal instincts moved me to poke it with a stick. (I did it softly, PETA, softly) Only because there is a known fact the possum-chickens often disguise themselves as defenseless creatures. However, in this case the cat was clean, so to speak. I reached in the pile of junk and saved the poor little kitten, which I named: Lindsay Lohan on Crack. I carried LLOC and it looked at me with these big beautiful blue eyes. He was adorable until the bugger scratched me . I couldn't get upset, though. This cat in his scrawnyness emanated the most sugary cuteness you can imagine and then the sugary bastard bit me.

After this, I put him in a cardboard box and watched him eat the contents of a can o' chicken(circa 1996). That's when, to my chagrin, I saw 2.5 million fleas on my parachute pants(circa. 1984). The first thing to pop into my head was "STOP, DROP AND ROLL", which I don't advise to do if you are in a gravel parking lot.("Plink!" There's another piece of gravel that I dislodged from my body)

I then proceeded to beat myself to a bloody pulp, by pounding on my legs thinking the fleas would think its an earthquake and run for shelter. On the cat perhaps. Apparently this action amuses the fleas and makes them want to mate, because at this time there were 5.3 million fleas on me. It was unbelievable. All the fleas from America and Canada(Hi Dewey!, Hi Anika!) were doing the "conga" line on me. It was like a Star Trek Convention, except the Fleas were cool.

Knowing that the cat was the one that introduced me to the fleas, I decided to kill it.

No, just kidding. I took the cat to the vet. He brought out the flea dip. It was pretty good he uses Cheez whiz and chives. Delicious.

Seriously, he hooked up LLOC and gave me a pet carrier. All for 35 bucks. Not bad considering that is what he charged me for Brownie's scotch tape prognosis. LLOC is doing fine. On Thursday I found him a home and all is well with the world. Until the possum-chicken returns, that is.

This is what I learned this week. How's about you?

Feel free to share with me your weekly lesson o' life. I do appreciate it. Gracias (pronounced "Grassy Ass")

Protector of Kitty's world wide and Possum-chicken farmer.

PS *snap* *snap**scratch* *scratch

Confession Time. Party Time! Excellent!

Well my sinful little children. It's time for:

Undr's Confessional
(cue creepy organ music. No, not Enigma, the other stuff)

We all make mistakes and we hope that no one finds out. But the truth is: we will. Here at the Undr's Corner Headquarters and Hair Salon, we see all. Which is amazing because we don't even have cable.
It is time to confess your sins, you cute little evildoer you.

I promise that I will grant you forgiveness and will not hold it against you in a court of law. I have been granted this privilege for one day only, by the UndrWorld Archdiocese and Cracker Jacks(the prize was a sin forgiveness temporary tattoo/License. )

Let me know your confessions ...Or else....You won't and I will be sad.

Here be mine: I like to bathe in the nude. It's wrong but I can't help it.

Seriously, forgive me Fadder for I have sinned, It's been 23 years since my last confession.
I have committed many a heinous crime, but none like this. I love to do the chicken dance.

It started as a funny little novelty dance but it has gone outta control. Now I do "the dance"(that's what the kids call it) at weddings, bar mitzvah's and job interviews. I even did it at a funeral. I've tried to replace it with the Macarena, but it's not the same. The intoxicating polka music, the flapping of my imaginary wings and the butt shake, oh the butt shake. I am addicted to the chicken dance. I would do it now, but this confessional is too small.

Well then, What are you gonna confess my child? Let me know.

It could be any subject. Such as the time you ate your child's art project because you like uncooked macaroni or the time you didn't rewind the movie you rented or the time you xeroxed your butt or other body parts at work.(ooooh let me see!)

Warning, please keep horrible crimes to yourself. For example, I don't want to know you killed your pet hamster Louie with a paper clip. Or that you ripped the tag off your mattress. Or even that you watch Dr. Phil(which will earn you a one way ticket to hell or maybe just North Dakota)

Let me know your true confessions.

Bless you my children,

Priest Reverend Umpire Buddhist Monk and Sherpa.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

My apologies, Rasheedi.

Dear Undies:

I'd like to apologize for not posting. It was because of an unseen force beyond my control. If you were to see me now, you would notice that I have not shaved, I have bloodshot eyes and have commited at least 3 acts of cannibalism. (Poor Mailman) Right now, I am actually gnawing at my arm. Why? NO! I am not making the Movie Alive 2 the musical. I was reading the longest post ever to be recorded in history. (Hi Terri!) No, I'm kidding. Terri's post was awesome. She wrote about her trip to the Greek Isles, which is, if my geometry is correct, near Hoboken, New Jersey. (Ha-Ha! I know its Geology.)

Anywhoo, now that I can peel myself from my seat, I will have you know that I wrote two awesome posts yesterday. The first one was titled "The true meaning of Life" and the second one was titled " The Effects of the War on the Reproductive Organs of the Amazonian Tree Frog and the Women who love them" Unfortunately, the Blogger Monster ate their sorry little souls. And because it was pure crapola, I will let them give the Blogger Monster indigestion.

Again, I say my friends forgive me.

UnDr(mmmm! mailman)

PS Triple G 05 Yes! That lady was the same one who came in second at the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest. Good Eye. As a prize you must eat the same amount of Bratwurst in less than 10 minutes. Good luck!

Also, Jenn, thanks for asking. I was thinking about a woman(let's say an amalgam of women) who is beautiful but has been hurt so many times that she doesn't let anyone get near her. She is sad but untouchable. Does that make sense? There's more to it. I'm just giving you the cliff notes version. For more explanation email me or just make it up. Boingy!

Monday, August 08, 2005

Poetry that sucks

Here is a poem.

Painted layers of cynicism
Hardened hidden insecurities
The strokes of brush that may have hurt you
Was suffering all that necessary?

You choke on chemicals that hurt you
And all the solvents seem abrasive
And all you want is to discover
Someone to chip way at your sadness

It is the fumes that steal your judgment
And in your frame you feel protected
With painted smiles, your eyes announcing
The innocence that was rejected

Admirers may come to see you
Gaze upon your wondrous splendor
Ropes that will impede their passage
They wander away tired cinders

You simply are but paint and canvas
A simple delicate, mosaic
A puzzle no one will decipher
An inspiration of all love lyrics.
Thanks for allowing me to waste your time. Please check out the linky links. You will notice that I have new ones. (psst. They are threatening me with bodily harm if you don't read their blogs. So, please check them out. I'm a bleeder.)
UNdr(Shakespeare I ain't, heck I ain't even Tupac)
PS If you want to know what I was thinking or taking while I wrote this crap let me know. Remember, please feel free to send me poems, haikus, jokes, limmericks or anything else. I appreciate your comments. By the way stay tuned for Blog Confessions.(ooooh, I'm such a tease)

I'm in Love

This woman is definitely the type you wanna take home to momma. No doubt!. She weighs a startling 99lbs and can eat a truck driver to shame.(Sorry, don't mean to stereotype, I mean just the fat ones)

So next time you are dateless on a Friday night, remember maybe you need to learn a skill like eating 35 bratwurst. Show a little initiative. I'm just saying, is all.

Grossed out, but smitten:

Undr(Rolaids, anyone?)

PS On a serious tip: Peter Jennings passed away this weekend. He is one of my childhood heroes.(I wanted to become a journalist, remember?) I just wanted to give him a final shoutout. Thanks.

Tour of the Undrworld.

Dear Undies:
It's not everyday that a man of my stature gets a revelation so profound, that he has to share it with the world. Let me splain.

I was at the Olive Garden. It's a little mom and pop Italian restaurant, maybe you've heard of it. They have, at this restaurant, a menu item called the Tour of Italy. Now, I could be wrong because, I wasn't actually in the Restaurant. I was in the parking lot, enjoying my take-out order of General Tso's Chicken(I salute you, General!).

That's when it hit me like a hardened semi-cooked piece of General Tso's Chicken.(Still Saluting)

I should give my undies a tour of some of the places in Northeast GA. We will call it "The tour of Places in Northeast GA". I like the sound of that.

So, hop on the short bus and strap in. We're going for a ride. YEEHAW!!!

Now, near my home there are a series of small towns. We call this area "the Armpit of Georgia"(motto: Currently trying to make "the Armpit of Georgia" our motto.)
All the towns are quaint(which means dumpy) and have that hometown feel(which means dumpy).

The restaurants are your run-of-the-mill franchises and your mom and pop places. In Toccoa, for example there are 750 fried chicken places and one barbecue place. Coincidently, they are all called "The choke and puke". Let me say that they are not as fancy as Rising Fawn's "Gnaw and Swallow" (Hi Carissa!) or the well renowed Mississippi Mudhole Bar and Feed Store, which is also the name of a church and city hall.(Hi Linda!) Nonetheless, it's our hometown restaurants and we love them. Not like that snooty McDonald's.(Snooty Motto: At least we have plastic silverware.)

Lets waddle back on the bus and continue our tour. No bathroom breaks. Don't worry the seats are vinyl.

Now we are on one of the famous streets in the "Tri-Kudzu Area" I don't want to embarrass our fellow Toccoans, so I won't tell you the name of this street. True, it's a BROAD street and the people here have a BROAD point of view, but I won't tell you the street name. Let's call it The synonym of Wide street.

The synonym of Wide Street is in the bad part of town. If you walk this street from one end to the other, you will definitely get 3 stab wounds, 5 Crack Vials and of course, Fried Chicken.
We have on TSOW Street many colorful characters. One of which is "Speedy". "Speedy" is a homeless man who wears a full suit, no tie, and walks at an unbelievable speed up and down the street. He looks like a rushed businessman whose late, but with no where to go.

Then there is the world famous "Dancy". He is always dancing and waving at nonexistant cars. Look! He's waving at us now. For the love of Mike, DON'T MAKE EYE CONTACT!!!!! I repeat DON'T MAKE EYE CONTACT!!!

At this point our stolen short bus is making a sputtering and unexpected stop. Thus, concluding our tour. We ask that you remain on the bus, until the police arrive. Until then enjoy your crack and fried chicken.


PS let me know about interesting places in your neck of the woods. Not the touristy places but those that make your hometown/city home. Love ya, mean it.

Friday, August 05, 2005

WHWLTW...The saga continues.

Dear Stalky Stalkers:

Its time, once again, for WHWLTW. For those of you who are trying to pronounce this acronym, because you think its a word, stop it! Now wipe the remainders of your last meal from your monitors. I suggest Windex with lime. It's not as good as Coke with lime, but it gives you a good buzz.

Now, Back to our Biznazz.

WHWLTW is an ongoing segment, here, at the world renowned Underachiever's Corner. It refers(not reefer you pot head) to What Have We Learned This Week.

This week I learned that even if you are not drunk, you can last two hours with your shoes on the wrong way.

Let me explain.

I woke up late for work this morning. I have to shower in the morning, no matter what. I don't drink coffee so, the shower is my morning pick me up. Yes, even if I showered the night before right before I went to bed and my hair is still wet in the morning. Believe you me I have to shower. (I'm a weirdo, but a clean weirdo.)

Then, I proceeded to shower, brush my teefs and run out the house within 12 minutes. Shoeless and rushed, I jumped into my car(I will name him Stimey. Hi Anika!) and raced down the road as if there is no tommorrow. As I'm driving down the road, I attempt to put my shoes on. Only to realize that I didn't have any socks. Luckily I was only 3 miles from the house so I returned. I Got my favorite Nautica Socks. (You know what's funny? I never bought these socks they just magically appeared one day in my sock drawer. Otherwise known as the pit of no return).

Ok! Now I'm ready and I run out the door still shoeless, but now with a pair on Nautica socks in my hand. I got into Stimey(that's my car if your keeping score) and I rushed down the road. Put my socks on as I drive, and then attempt to put my shoes on.

Interestingly enough, my shoes are a size bigger than my actual feet because I have a toe that protrudes beyond my Big Toe.(Coincidently, my big toe is named Stimey too).

But I digress.

I drove like mad and made it to work 5 minutes late. The boss(I will call him, the boss) was not there. He was late too. Yes!!!! As far as he knew I had been there all the time.

Anyway, about two hours later and at least 10 miles of walking, I noticed that I was not comfortable. I asked, "Did I put my thong underwear the wrong way again?" Noooo! I don't own a pair of those. I also asked myself "Did I put Ben-Gay in my nether regions?" Nooo! That happened once. Okay twice.
Then I realized, "oops, have I been asking these questions out loud?"

"YEEESSS!", the Boss answered.

That's when it dawned on me. I have been wearing my right shoe on my left foot and vice versa. It took me two whole hours to realize that I'm an idiot. Quickly, I removed my shoes to solve my predicament. When the boss yells "Hey, those are my socks!"

Needless to say, there is a valuable lesson in all of this: Always shower in the morning and Ben Gay is not a shower gel. I repeat IT IS NOT A SHOWER GEL!

This is what I learnt this week.

What did you learn this week? Let me know. If not make it up. The least you can do is tell me how stupid I am.

(Scarred in the nether regions)

PS: For the love of Mike please check out some real bloggers in the Linky Links section. Come on people! I work on commission!

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Babysit-O-Rama 2005 continued...

Dear Undies:

Ok, to further milk a post that was so popular it got 4 comments, I decided to explain something that occured during Babysit-O-Rama 2005.

First off, I have a dog, you know him as Brownie.(cuz that's his name, dum-dum.)

He is trained in martial arts, evasive maneuvers and humping his toy doll Bluey (aptly named because he's blue). Also, I have painstakingly trained him to kill a Rottweiler. How, you ask? Well, as the Rottweiler is swallowing him, I trained Brownie to get lodged in his throat, thus causing The Rot's demise, as well as his own.

Let me give you a demostration of a Rottweiler attack drill that I practice with Brownie:

Brownie(getting chewed up by Rotty the evil Rottweiler): "Undr, save yourself!!!!"(Literally, woof, ouch, woof)

Me: (Running away and screaming, in a manly fashion, like a little girl) "What? I can't hear you!"

Anyway, when I was babysitting 3 children that are considered on this hemisphere as the spawn of the Devil himself, they must've hurt Brownie. I noticed as he wagged his tail, in his normal fashion that, the tip of his tail was in the shape of an "L. At first, I thought, Damn! even he calls me a loser. Then it hit me, so I said calmly:


Yes, one or all of these kids( I call them OMEN 1, 2 and 3) probably slammed the door on his little tail. Thus, breaking it.

I rushed him to the vet 12 hours after I made this discovery. After a thorough 5 minute exam the Vet, Dr. Hans Uphorsesbutt, said, I'm not making this up, "Just put some Scotch Tape on his tail. He will be fine" and as I absorbed this morsel of wisdom he also said "35 dollars, please"


When I came to, I gave him 35 bucks and another ten dollars because Brownie took a whiz on the Doc's Carpet.

Now, I have a maimed animule. But he's a trooper. I'm sure he'll pull thorough.

Oh you know the kids, respectively 10, 9, and 5 years of age(Hi Gunngirl!) will get a talkin' to.

Sidenote: Interestingly enough, The OMEN 3( the five year old) still wore diapers. Now that I think about, I probably should of changed his diaper. D'oh.

But I digress:

Here's a pic of the Victim:

Isn't he the cutest 4 pounds of cute you've ever seen?

Don't be fooled by his apparent demeanor, he's just so embarrassed that he hid his tail and is acting aloof or awoof, if you speak dog.

Please send your donations to the:

Brownie's Straighten My Stinkin' Tail Foundation And Sweatshop.

C/O Under Achiever

123 Underachiever's Lane

Boon Docks, North Dakota 12345

or just comment on this blog and I wont sic him on you. If you're laying down he might get you in the jugular, but make sure you don't get up till he kills you. (It'll help his self esteem.)


PS Maybe Dr Woo Suk Wang might could clone me another Brownie to hump Bluey as the real Brownie recuperates.

Just a thought. Love ya, mean it.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Babysit-O-Rama 2005

Dear Undies:

Most of you know me as the best thing that has happened to your life. Others as the wind beneath your cheeks..um wings. Some of you don't know my softside. No, its not on the top of my head, funny guy.

The truth is, I am a sentimental fool. Yes, although, I'm one of the pillars of the Blog world, and by pillar I mean, the rusty nail on the floor of the Blog world dumpster, I am human too. I am as sensitive and caring as a 12hr movie marathon on the Lifetime Network. I am so nurturing, that I almost have a uterus, although, I'm sure I have at least a half dozen ovaries.

My point is, I am the epitome of Child care. Thats why this past weekend, I, Undr the Magnificent, the Great, the Boiled Peanut Salesman, offered my services as a babysitter.

Don't worry, I'm okay.

They arrived on Saturday morning. Their parents were leaving on some kind of business, so they pleaded for me to watch over them. I said "How much you gonna pay me?" and they laughed and went on their merry way. I think I actually heard them say and I quote "whooo hoooo!!!" end quote, but I could be wrong.

Afterwhich, the three, count them, three kids looked at me like they were going to kill me. What is a responsible adult to do? That's right give them sugar and let them run around the house. Ten minutes later, they were bored. That's when I acted as a real responsible adult and gave them more sugar but this time told them to pace themselves so the near diabetic shock would last a little longer. Which they obediently did. Eleven minutes later, they were bored. Thats when I decided to rent all the Star Wars Movies and let them watch as I fed them Cheese Doodles and Coke.

Needless to say, after 4 grueling days we are just finishing the last of the Star Wars movies. (they weren't this long when I was a kid)

However, despite the semi-nutritious diet and their controlled potty breaks, they love me. Tonight, I return them to their parents, now that the cops have finally caught up with them.

In conclusion, I conclude that I am an excellent babysitter. Please keep me in mind if you need a vacation or just need to flee the country because you've been a bad, bad, boy(or girl for you feminists). I will take care of your kid(s) or your Swedish Bikini team as if they were my own*.

Either way, Cheese doodles anyone?

Undr(any questions?)

*applies to Swedish Bikini Team only

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Teacher, Teacher!!!! You forgot to give us homework!

Dear Undies,

Let me start by saying you guys are the greatest. (hey, just like me!) Thanks for commenting and asking your questions on the last posts. Forgive me for not posting, in like, two days. I like some posts to age. Ferment if you will.

You have done well my lil' grasshoppas.
I must give you another assignment, although, I continue to welcome your questions. Remember, I have so much knowledge that I want to share, so please feel free to delve in to my vat of knowledgeable knowledge.

Now back to the assignment:
From the Japanese root words Hai(which means Hi!) and Ku (which means Coo)
Actually, my little sushi rolls, Haiku is a type of poem that consists of three lines of approximately 5, 7, and 5 phonetic units which correspond to syllables in English. (Read wikipedia for rest of definition.)
And that being said or written or said, I would like you, the undies, my little kimonos, to write a Haiku .
It could be about anything. For example: Your kids, your family life, your undying desire to make me yours, your car, your boat, your undying desire to make me yours, your pets, your blog, your undying desire to make me yours or anything else*
Here is one of mine:
Poison Ivy Butt
Toilet paper Leaf was not
Must Scratch Christian Parts.
You see? It's not difficult. Please send me your Hiakus. Or post them on your blog if you have a little blogger's block. (Fee will be required) Just let me know.
Love ya, mean it.
Undr(Sake(Sah-Key) anyone?)
*which also includes your undying desire to make me yours, coincidently.

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