I Have Man Boobs

No, not really. I just needed to lure y’all into my post here by using tittehs as my hook. Works like a charm every time–especially if you’re into men with breastesses.

(courtesy manboobsguide.com NOT. KIDDING.)

(courtesy manboobsguide.com NOT. KIDDING.)

Man boobs are very popular these days. I mean, I keep seeing stories about ‘em all over the place. Nothing can contain them it seems.

Case in point:

From BBC.com

Increase in male breast reduction surgery

Apparently in the UK, men with squeeze boxes they wear on their chests don’t like wearing them no more. So, men are getting them taken down a cup size or two or three, and in 2011 roughly 790 of these surgeries were performed. This number has doubled in the past five years. In boring doctor terms, this condition is called gynaecomastia.

I guess men don’t like the nipple tenderness and the embarrassment the manly mams cause. Guess they don’t like having their tits stared at on an hourly basis EITHER. It’s like a mammary quid pro quo. I wish this surgery wasn’t an option for some men because then they’d have to deal with motor-boating jokes and nips that are allll about living the high-beam life.

Of course, now that men have boobs, modern medicine is jumping through worn out bras to figure out a way to help ‘em get rid of them.

Huh. Most men spend their whole lives wanting to fondle the goods, but once the good lord has blessed them with a pair of their own, they no likey the jumblies so much anymore.

Have a piece of irony pie.

I have a rule I follow, wanna hear it? Sure you do: Never date a man whose boobs are bigger than yours. It’s just smart living.

Secksy.

Secksy.

Why were these invented?

What do you spake of, dearest Julia?

Oh. WHITE CHOCOLATE LIFE-SIZE BABY HEADS.

 

I hate chocolate now. (courtesy of Huffington Post)

I hate chocolate now. (courtesy of Huffington Post)

Some person who hates babies and grown-ups, felt they were necessary for the planet. Now, this person must be destroyed, or at least never, ever be let out in public again.

Suckwad McSuckersons

The gal with the mostest moxy on WordPress, Madame Weebles, had a great post earlier this week. So, whilst I was getting my sweat on during Bikram, I decided to answer the call of this siren and play along.

I blow donk at the following:

Not holding my tongue (shut up, pervs). Now, a little history about yours truly here. I’m a WASP (doormat) and with that pedigree comes learning how to make good conversatin’ at a wee age, a wicked sense of humor, a good edumacation and the ability to hold a lot of liquor and still be a McCrabass.

In other words, I’m a youngish Ouiser Boudreaux.

I wish.

However, when I was younger, the rule was to not talk about yourself (doing so was considered selfish), be polite and not ruffle any feathers (once again=doormat) regardless of what was being uttered to ruffle said feathers. Same goes for the utterer….right. Be polite to that person, then rip them to shreds when you’re with the fam. As I’ve aged, I’ve switched those two rules. Simply put, I don’t suffer fools lightly–and it shows. Now, I don’t immediately jump down someone’s gullet when they start spewing stupid, but I do when what has been said is either a right-out falsehood or an insult to me or mine. When I do say something, it’s usually quick and sharp, and has been known to harbor a certain amount of acidity that was part of my kind and genteel demeanor a few years ago. This is where I get into trouble–and lots of it. But changing my ways would be bad to my mental health so I’ve learned how to take what I dish out at a relatively early age.

My laziness when it comes to taking care of myself. I’m a lazy ass–I just am. I eat well, but if no food is in sight, I won’t eat. I’ll just think about food and hope that it’ll magically appear. On the plus side, I do Bikram yoga, go for long walks and drink copious amounts of water — and that’s about it aside from the occasional box of wine and trough of chocolate.

I can’t play basketball — at all. I’m turrible, turrible at it. What’s real odd is I believe that I should be good at it–why? I grew up playing tennis, riding to the hounds and plunging off of 3 meter springboards at break-neck speeds–where does basketball fit in?

Tally ho!

I don’t even like basketball all that much–same goes for baseball–come to think of it. The sight of me attempting to play can cause blindness so I don’t even try anymore because I do care about my fellow citizens that much.

Even Stanley is better than I am.

Being employed. I’ve been job-free for almost 2 years now and have no idea as to why I’m still not working, and find it odd that I’m persona non grata in the Chicago media world. I don’t want to talk about it though.

Overthinking. Being too cerebral. Too much in my head. This horrid habit tends to paralyze me at times. Instead of just “going for it”, I sit back and think of every possible thing that could go wrong AND right! Then, by the time I decide to go for it, the moment is gone and then there I am–holding my limp dick, or a limp dick. Depends on the situation I guess.

This next one may come as a shock, but I’m not all sweetness & light. I’m a born cynic. I see pictures of fluffy kittehs, puppehs and other woodland creatures, and do they warm the deep, dark parts of my soul? Nah. In fact, they fill me with dread because I know those critters are being pimped out for their cuteness but will soon be put back in some horrid basement or animal shelter somewheres because folks are too fucking stoopid/macho to get their animals fixed. Those animals never had a shot, see, and that sucks.

Pretending to like popular music–both new and old. I can’t stand 90 percent of the music that’s out today. It’s just pure horror produced by no talent shitstains who got lucky–or had someone killed so they could succeed. Same goes for old(er) stuff like Paul McCartney & Wings, Elvis Presley, Edie Brickell, U2, Tracy Chapman, John Mayer, DMB — I could go on and on, but I don’t want this bad juju on my blog. Plus, I wanna see the comments flow in about my audacity of not liking someone’s precious U2 or DMB.

So, to the 3 readers of this blog, what do you absolutely suck at?

You KNOW you wanna go

And, the best part is when you gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now, you’ll be in the best place for it.

The South Korean city of Suwon has opened “the world’s first toilet theme park.” About an hour outside of Seoul, one can go to this Labyrinth of the Loo and learn all sorts of fecal fun facts, how the toilet came to be and feast their eyes upon a dazzling display of bedpans.

The park itself was built around the home of the former mayor, Sim Jae-duck and has had a flush of visitors since opening this past July. Affectionately known as “Mr. Toilet”, Sim founded the World Toilet Association and started a movement about how important it is to the world to have clean, safe sanitation. He even wrote a ripping good yarn named “Happy to Be With You, Toilet.”

Sim’s love affair with all things commode when he was born into shit-filled poverty. Perhaps that had something to do with it–being born into poverty in Korea during, well, any time come to think of it. Sim died of prostate cancer in 2009.

“He was a man whose life literally began in a toilet and ended at a commode-shaped house,” said Lee Yeun-sook, manager of planning at the Mr. Toilet Sim Jae-duck Foundation.

Now, there’s a job that would be a gas to have.

 

 

Something to sink your teeth into

(courtesy of theinsider.com)

Girlfriend needs to up the voltage and lay off the Lithium cocktails.

Kesha Made Bra out of Fans’ Teeth

From Female First.

“Ke$ha made a bra out of her fans’ teeth.

The ‘Die Young’ singer recently asked her followers to send her a tooth each and after receiving over 1,000 canines, she decided to create a bra, headdress and earrings out of them.”

Let me get this straight–when you’re sans talent but are kept around for our amusement (thank you media!), and you’re none the wiser to our mockery but continue to add to our collective misery by doing stupid shit … wait … where was I going with this?

I’ve never heard her braying, but from what I understand her voice is shrill enough to reverse the flow of the Chicago River (again), cause the balls of men to tuck up into their innerds, and … to get her fans to send her their chompers.

I find it hard to believe that so many people thought the swimming pool game ‘Two Times Up & Three Times Down’ was a real one and not just their summer girl’s way of getting you out of her hair while she flirted with the hunky (but closeted) lifeguard. But those dolts seem to believe this woman who looks like a used up ASU sorority girl has enough talent to warrant them yanking their pearly whites from their maws and sending them to her.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Well played, Mayans.

Settle? NEVER!

Looks like I’ll be covering this case next month.

It’s a doozy too.

From Justia:

“Eilman, a college student, was arrested outside an airport after behaving so badly that agents had called police. Eilman had developed bipolar disorder following an auto accident the previous year. She had not taken her medication and did not tell the police about her mental-health condition.

By phone, her mother and stepfather told officers about her disorder. They did not believe the stepfather and the officer who talked to her mother did not share the information.

Officers thought that Eilman was being difficult or was on drugs. In custody, Eilman alternated between calm and manic.

Officers released her into a neighborhood she did not know, near a public-housing project with an exceptionally high crime rate without returning her cell phone.

She was raped and either jumped or was thrown out a seventh-story window. She suffered permanent, serious brain damage. In a suit by her guardian under 42 U.S.C. 1983, the district court denied some of defendants’ claims of qualified immunity.

The Seventh Circuit reversed in part, noting that whether police should have understood Eilman’s need for medical care is a factual issue and that police may have made her situation worse by releasing her far from where she was arrested.”

Hmm..I smell the stench of Chicago Police Department cover-up.

I know, perish the thought! Word on the street is that both parties were talking settlement–something to the tune of $100 million. However, it appears that the city of Chicago would rather fight this than settle. Fighting it out hasn’t worked so well for the city in the not-so-distant past. Don’t believe me? Read my coverage of the Anthony Abbate Jr. civil trial at gapersblock.com.

This is a horrible case, but I’ll be there. Stay tuned.

Target as a target

I got this the other day.

“Julia -

In the last week, over 230,000 people have signed my petition asking my employer, Target, to change its Black Friday shopping hours to let employees have Thanksgiving dinner with our families.

The response from media has been incredible, too — I was interviewed on the Today Show, and my story has been covered by CNN, the Wall Street Journal, Good Morning America, NBC, and major newspapers across the country!

When I started my petition, I didn’t expect it to get this much attention. Shortly after my petition took off, Target employees in others stores across the country were inspired to take action as well by starting their own petitions. The response from both employees and customers alike has been unanimous — Target should set an example by stopping the trend of retailers opening earlier and earlier for Black Friday deals. 

We have real momentum, and this Monday, I’ll be delivering my petition with over 230,000 signatures to Target Headquarters – click here to join us and add your name.

After I was on TV, my manager offered me Thanksgiving day off. But I declined. This isn’t about just me — it’s about respecting one of the few days retail workers have a year to spend time with loved ones. 

I know that Target is feeling the heat, and the more signatures we have to show them on Monday, the more they’ll feel pressured to change their Thanksgiving hours. Sign my petition now.

Thanks for your help — and Happy Thanksgiving. 

Casey St. Clair
Corona, California”

Let me get this straight–in this shitty shitty piss piss fuck fuck economy, you actually have a job and while it might not be your ideal job, it’s more than a lot of us have. Also, Ms. St. Clair has worked at Target for a while, you know, BY CHOICE, see.

Target decides they want to open on Thanksgiving night because, well, they are kinda choady but hey, they’re not here to be all PC n’ shit–they’re here to make a big, ass buck or two. In order to open on Thanksgiving night to deal with the throngs of shoppers who have some sick desire to get away from their alcohol-fueled, overstuffed gobs and feuding holiday family fun time to load up on gifts to give to their ungrateful, spoiled spawn, Target needs its employees to work. I know, I know, that’s crazy talk!

Target employees got wind of this and the whining wah wah wah starts. And since online petitions are the latest “It” Girl, someone decided to start one protesting big old mean Target. Then, the media gets wind of it as does Change.org, and now we’re being bombarded with online bitch and moan sessions.

Give me a break.

Here’s an idea: If you don’t want to work holidays, don’t get a job in retail.

In other words… SHUTTIE.

Not the mostess

Something must be said about all of the ridiculous whining, bitching and moaning surrounding the closing of Hostess.

The waxing rhapsodic over crappy junk food has broken the Douche Bag Meter, plus this senseless waste of words and thoughts makes those partaking in it look like dumb-fuck Americans.

I’m jealous of those who have the type of lives where losing sweet cakes o’swill sends them into a sort of self-flagellation, like they’re going to commit some sort of junk-food withdrawal induced suicide. Give me a break and more important, get the fuck over yourselves.

No wonder other countries hate us.

PS: Ten bucks and a case of Entemann’s says another company will buy Hostess and once again, Twinkies, Suzy Qs, Cupcakes and whatever else was spewed out of that factory, will be lining the hips, thighs and gunts of diehard fans from sea to shiny sea.

A drop in the bucket

It seems like I’ve been all about cops these days.

One would think that the universe would give me a break on the cops-behaving-badly-storyline but apparently, that desire ain’t in the stars.

Of course it happened near Cleveland.

Courtesy of Cleveland.com

Dare gets 10 NE Ohio police officers in trouble

Seems *cough* innocent enough, right?

To emulate President Obama in the debate against that cuntdonkey Mitt Romney, “Please proceed, Governor.”

“MENTOR, Ohio (AP) — A veteran northeast Ohio police officer who put his head in a bucket of urine on a dare is being disciplined by his department, and nine colleagues who paid him for the task are being reprimanded.

The News-Herald in Willoughby (http://bit.ly/T32yKo ) reports an off-duty Mentor patrolman completed the dare last month, using a bucket from a makeshift urinal at a football game. Online video of the incident was reported to the city.”

Did someone say VIDEO? Why yes, they did. Sorry if my feigning surprise seemed phony in a Holden Caulfield kinda way, but I still suffer from this bad habit of giving people the benefit of the doubt.

And of course I’ve posted it for your viewing pleasure. FYI, it’s grody to the max.

Sooooo….the cops involved were reprimanded because they egged him on and each paid him fitty bucks to stick his noggin in a bucket o’ piss.

Let’s sit with this one a while. He, a grown man with responsibilities like carrying a gun and upholding the law, was dared to stick his head in a bucket of piss. Urine. Pee. Human waste. Recycled beer.

Apparently being a public servant ain’t what it used to be with the high pay, great bennies, huge fucking pensions and all. His friends felt the need to supplement his income but only if he worked for it. Now.. hmm…how could that be accomplished whilst drunk?

Let that wash over you while you also wade through this final tidbit:

“An investigator reported that several officers who were involved described the incident as “disgusting” but said they didn’t think it violated the department’s conduct code.”

So much for being a cop 24/7.

There is nothing left to say.

 

 

 

Lookie here

The McCrabass blog is a distraction for me–it’s fluff, it’s fun–aka it’s mental masturbation.

I consider my blogging as a sort of “Artist’s Way” minus the touchy-feely-I-was-once-married-to-Marty-Scorsese-but-he-dumped-me-so-now-I-write-how-to-books-for-wannabe-artists-aka-bored-housewives –but with box wine, chocolate and Bikram yoga. Oh and dark purple highlights and buttloads of salty language.

Simply put, I’m a writer who blogs for fun. I’m not into that brand-building bullshit. (Side note: what the fuck is branding anyway? Why are we supposed to brand ourselves to each other? What the fuck does it have to do with the price of eggs? It doesn’t help people get meaningful work, believeyoume. It’s basically a bullshit term made up by marketers. You’re only a brand if you’ve been heated up on the range where the deer and the antelope play, and used to tap some livestock ass.)

When I’m not thinking up and composing posts, I’m writing my book and looking for a gig. That type of writing is my true calling, along with journalism which I happen to do quite well when given the opportunity.

The following list is made up of folks who are great writers and use their blogs to display their dog-given talent. Some days they write more than on others by using words and images–or just words or just images–kinda like yours truly here. I’ve been reading these folks for a long time now and I suggest you check ‘em out. They write to write, not for the nebulous glory of Internet awards but because they love writing. Oh, and they all have something to say which is the mostest important aspect.

I’m not going to write up brief descriptions of their work because you need to do your own heavy lifting. You won’t regret it either.

In no particular order, if you may …

Reinventing the Event Horizon

Squathole

Lame Adventures

The Learned Fan Girl

Marguerite Darlington

The Musings of a Storyteller

Lloydville

Jonathan Turley

Rufino Cabang

CREW

UnfetteredBS

Robert Loerzel

Adventures By Kim

Violet Blue (NSFW)

Love Letters Are Dying

Herlander-Walking

Learn ‘em, know ‘em, love ‘em.