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Sunday, December 23, 2012


I get asked all the time if Shady Greg is really as slimy as I paint him to be. Simply put: YES! However, even more often I am asked if Shady is really as flat out fucking stupid as these tales say or , perhaps, I embellish The Shady One's stupidity just a tad. Allow me to state for the record, once and for all, Shady Greg is, unequivocally, THE STUPIDEST PERSON on the entirety of EARTH!!! I understand, especially at this time of the year, that that is not a very charitable thing to say about anyone. To say it about Shady Greg though, I was being charitable! Not only did I refer to him as a person, but I refrained (against my true feelings) from writing "Shady Greg is the STUPIDEST FUCKING IDIOT of a SHITTY STUPID FUCK WAD of a RETARDED FAILED ABORTION to ever walk the planet". Just thinking of Greg's stupidity makes me go all grammatically incorrect and shit. Here at Kitchens and More we have had Christmas music blaring over the sound system since September. Very  Annoying. The annoyance is compounded by Shady walking around singing stupidly and off key: "All I want for Christmas is my two front feet, my two front feet, my two front feet  All I want for Christmas is my two front feet, my two front feet, my two front feet" on and on until I threaten his very existence and he switches to : "Check the halls for dust and dolly" or "Little Bummer Boy". These are not attempts at humor. Shady is just an idiot. He thinks Frosty is a glowman and that Rudolph is a bed hosed rain fear (Shady is borderline illiterate and a FUCKING idiot. Making sense is not a necessity for the brainless). Shady claims to be very religious, yet he thinks Santa (yes, he actually believes in Santa) and Jesus are one in the same (How else could Santa deliver all those presents in one night?).  Kind of puts the TRINITY into new light, doesn't it? The Father, The Son and The Holy Santa? Rudolph then would not be fiction, but Devine Intervention. Seriously, Greg has been known to sit at a stop sign for up to an hour waiting for it to change. All I want for Christmas is my two front feet. Shady Greg REALLY is a Fucking Idiot!

Friday, December 14, 2012


Shady Greg, the smelliest talking turd on Earth, has increased his smell factor by 310% (don't quote me on the percentage. I suck at math and tend to just make numbers up. I believed in eleventeen until I was twelve)! Enough about me though, this blog is about the reigning Heavyweight Chump (ha! chump!) of Stupidity-Shady Greg! The Shady One has stopped defecating. Shit still flows freely from his mouth and comes out his ears and he has never gotten the stains out of the seats of his pants, but he no longer allows actual poop to leave his body. This has been going on for close to a week now, and frankly, it scares me. Shady is a light greenish color around his ears, neck, and mouth. Every 20 minutes or so he doubles over clutching his ample stomach in pain; grimacing "Jesus Darwin Dinosaur Fuck!" while his whole body shakes. Shady swears he has never felt better. Why would anyone deprive themselves from morning movement Glory, you ask? Because they are a fucking idiot! Shady read an article about a Tibetan Monk who only needs to "make waste" once a month. Apparently, the Monk dude has reached a higher plane of "Being". Shady, because he makes a fucking idiot look like a genius, decided he too will achieve a higher plane. Shady didn't want to waste anytime with meditation, prayer, exercise, charity or anything else one might concentrate on to improve one's self. No. Shady Greg figures all he needs to do is limit himself to a monthly dump and BAM! instant Nirvana. So now Shady can be heard up to 30 yards away because of all the weird, loud gurgling, growling, gargling sounds emanating from his abdomen.

Saturday, December 8, 2012


Shady Greg, the vilest of the vile, has randomly sweating balls. This does not sound like a normal condition to me. Shady, however, insists that a nut sack just generating sweat whenever is a perfectly normal thing. It is so normal that Greg leads a weekly support group called Testical Testify (tag- Two Balls No strikes 12 Steps!).  It's a collection of semi-men and one strange woman (back up a sec. Not Semi driving men. Semi-men.) who meet in the basement of Chaz Bono's yoga instructors' house (talk about unemployed) and discuss how their balls sweat randomly (I guess. I mean it's a support group for people with randomly sweating balls. And a chick who has a thing for guys with randomly sweating balls. Or she has a sweaty man trap. Or both.). Anyhow, I just thought I would share this with you all because I thought it was one of the strangest things I had ever heard. Shady seems proud of it. If you  happen to be standing next to him when his balls start there random sweat; He'll tell you. "Hey guess what? My balls are getting moist. I can actually smell the vinegar!". Then he'll walk away. Until the next time. Strange Fucked up semi-man, is Shady Greg.

Saturday, December 1, 2012


Shady explained it was merely orifice confusion and could happen to anybody. He then re-froze the banana.

Friday, November 30, 2012


Hey Ho! Now this is awesome! This blog, so long ignored by The Chosen People, has finally been embraced by my fellow Israelites! I am incredibly happy about this. I have ... OK maybe we should back up a minute and shine the light of clarification on something. When I said "my fellow Israelites"  some of you may have construed that to mean that I was born in Israel, or that, perhaps, I reside there now. No. Matter of fact I have never even visited Israel. I did once watch a Travel Channel documentary about Israel. Well, not the whole documentary. It was very long. Not to mean boring; just very long. Like two hours or something. With NO nudity. There were a few helicopter explosions and shit, but NO TITS! I can't be expected to sit still for two whole hours without some form of objectifying of women. I don't want to sound sexist or anything, but I was weaned on CADDYSHACK and ANIMAL HOUSE and BLACK SHAMPOO and shit. You know what I'm saying? The sort of movie where in between laughs and/or explosions tits appear on screen for no good reason. A prime example is TRADING PLACES. That movie flashes tits for no other reason then because. Just BECAUSE. Because is a great fuckin' reason for tits, ya know? Anyhow, I am running out of time for todays "Welcome To ..." blog. In conclusion allow me to just say thank you to all my new Israelite friends and FUCK THE PALESTINIENS! (at least until some fuckin' Palestine types start to frequent this site. Then I'm sure I'll welcome them too. I'm a whore for the page view).

Saturday, November 17, 2012


HEY CANADA! I flat out told you that you were running neck and neck with France (I hate France) and that you needed to up your page views on this blog to blow France (I hate France) away. As is typical with Canada, you pussed out! The French are kicking your ass (The French!). The French haven't kicked anybodies ass since Ann Boleyn was looking to get married and that was only a couple of out of work Englishmen who had been drunkenly mouthing off about crepes being papery shit (merde!) compared to a pancake. Of course you Canadians are related to both the French and the English, the two biggest empire blowers outside of Spain!- I would like to go on record as saying that I have met a lot of people from France and almost all of them have been wonderful, nice people. I hate the French government. I also hate a lot of Parisians (arrogant, snotty Bastards!). Canada Sucks!

Friday, November 16, 2012


Shady Greg received a gift card to Major Marjorie's Discipline Boutique for his birthday and finally got around to using it the other day. His harried hardworking harlot, Gulag Greta gets gimpy if asked to spank him too often so she farms out his pain and humiliation needs to an understanding, sympathetic transgender Dominatrix with a Novocaine addiction ( although she shares none with her trash [clients]). Shady normally just goes in for the Jim Norton special but this time he wanted to try something new (ever since his twisted heroin induced weekend with Kelly Monaco Shady has gotten more and more inept at dealing with "normal" society. I mean he now wears spurs through his nose because he thinks he has Cowboy Nostrils (I don't know what they are either.)). Anyhow, Greg decided to try the Anal Addict Fantasy Frolic (just typing that made my balls shrink) which meant that he got to dress like THOR (which he does a lot anyway) and take the HAMMER of the GODZ up his ... well obviously being an anal addict special where he took it is normally a one way tunnel for most others but is a well travelled hamster habitat for Greg. Apparently, before one can take the HAMMER thing one must be cleansed. Major Marjorie bent Shady THOR over her Hello Kitty Bondage Bidet (complete with little pink shackles and boiling water jet spray) to clean the outside of his crooked crappy crack. The boiled boils on THOR'S bony butt burned brightly. Major Marjorie choked back puke and reminded herself this was all only until she graduated college. Now it was time to cleanse the inside. It was time for The Vodka Enema! Shady dropped to all fours while Major Marjorie tightened the choker around his neck and placed her cold spiked booted heel upon his scrawny neck. Shady yipped like a frightened terrier. -Due to the sensitivity of many of my readers stomachs (especially you sickly little French Bastards, you know who you are) I shall skip the more graphic details and just say that when the clear liquid entered Shady, he screamed "Fuck a Duck!" and launched forward caroming off the wall and landing face down in a KY jelly pie (I honestly don't know what that is either!). Shady pushed himself up and barked "What the fuck Marj? That's nothing like gargling!"

Thursday, November 15, 2012


Caught bawling like a baby when the news broke that Gilles Marinni had gotten kicked off of DWTS, Shady Greg the vagina of all pussies, declared that an onion had flown into his eye causing the tears (Yes. An actual onion. Shady is an idiot). While I agree it probably should have been Emmitt who got the boot, I am not emotionally invested in the show to cry over it. Greg is THE vagina of all Pussies!

Friday, November 9, 2012


Shady Greg, the worlds foremost degenerate, has "degenerated" even more. Shady was in LA trying to sell his manuscript LIFE IS SHIT AND SO ARE YOU to MGM for a cool half million (declined) (escorted to the curb) (for good measure they then stepped on his head) (ouch!), anyhow while out there he snuck into the studio where DWTS is filmed. He posed as a potted plant but was discovered when a stage hand pointed out that a real potted plant would have more personality. While on the run from security he slipped into Kelly Monaco's dressing room pretending to be a Sales Rep from Bulimia Inc. with all new inventive ways to not keep a meal down. Kelly was thrilled. Shady has long had a crush on Kelly Monaco and even confessed to her " I've jacked off to the thought of your nude body so often when I'm in the shower I'm amazed a baby hasn't crawled out of the drain"! Kelly, cruising on the heroin highway, was excited by Shadys' soul baring honesty and ghostly pallor. She asked him "So do you like to shoot speedballs?" Shady Greg, not having any clue what he was being asked, replied "Of course Baby Doll. I even shoot basketballs". Kelly laughed at what she thought was a joke and not proof of Shadys cluelessness. She pulled a baggie of brown/white powder out of a bureau drawer, that Greg figured was Cinnamon sugar, but was actually a potent mix of cocaine and heroin with a taste of rat poison for good measure. Kelly cooked it in a spoon over the flame of a Jr. scientist bunsen burner. She told Shady to roll up his sleeve. He did. Kelly discovered the fact that Greg has veins like a mosquito (is anything manly with this guy?) so she shot him up in his pale bony ass. - Long story short. Shady was arrested three hours later trying to give a hickey to a palm tree. Ironically, I have been contacted by MGM to sell the movie rights to this story!

Friday, November 2, 2012


Shady Greg, the most selfish Bastard to ever walk the Earth, has solidified his acceptance into the Selfish Bastard Hall of Shame Fame for his latest act of  bastardly selfishness. Shady Greg's long suffering wife Gulag Greta (name changed to protect the innocent) bought a 23 lb. frozen turkey for the upcoming Thanksgiving Holiday (a good pre-season sale at Kroger) because family is coming in for a shady reunion. Greg, the selfish bastard, took one look at the size of the turkey and immediately proclaimed the right drumstick to be his (along with the neck, all giblets, the wishbone and first three spoonfuls of creamed corn). Gulag Greta, bless her soul, patiently explained to Shady that Thanksgiving is weeks away and he can't just lay claim to a drumstick on an uncooked turkey. So Shady Greg pouted. He whined. He begged. He pleaded. He demanded. Nothing worked. Then inspiration hit (along with perspiration. Shady Greg sweats like a motherfucker once he gets going). Shady drove down the block to his favorite hookah joint which recently underwent a name change and is now called Kasheeva Kat Kafe (previously known as Kasheeva Kare far too many homeless people entered looking for free hookah care packages) (in my experience it's tough to find a hookah who cares-most are so jaded by the life). Shady walked in, found Woobie (his favorite belly dancer/ belly bookie) and said "Woobie! - Woobie Woobie Woobie! I need you to pierce my nipple!". To which Woobie replied "Sure you  Shady! Why is you nipple not? We make you nipple that not is! If both not then both be! We make you nipple Hole-y! You hear me say? Hole-y! Joke I make". Woobie then convulsed in a fit of laughter until she backlogged so much snot she choked to near death, passed out on the floor. So Shady drove home, ran into his garage, backed up and opened the garage door and drove in. He then stripped off his shirt and grabbed his nipple (a practiced motion if ever there was one) and shoved a screwdriver through it. The pain was immense; damn near crippiling. Shady screamed loudly and came (he is a sick fuck). After a cigarette the greedy, selfish Bastard went and nipple cuffed himself to the turkey. The drumstick is all but his. Of note, in Saudi Arabia he and the turkey are now married. Or would be if they were in Saudi Arabia. Good thing they aren't though, the turkey hates veils.


I  can't believe I am finally going to confront the truth about THE OTHERS and THE ILLUMINATTI and SATAN and BIGFOOT and THE GOVERNMENT and how almost all of you are mind fucked ZOMBIES due to gamma rays from the TV and the radio and the microwave and the clock radio and stuff that THEY planted into your life without you even knowing it and now you believe in what they want you to believe which is not the truth but is instead numbing venom from the farthest reaches of our galaxy liken URANUS and no I am not giggling because I said URANUS lots of evil fucked up thoughts come from your anus I mean URANUS get real people unless you are lady ga ga you do not think with your anus and I am not ripping on lady ga ga it's just that she is SATANIC and makes music videos that are SATANIC instead of fun and I refuse to capitalize her name because she is in ALLEGIANCE with THE OTHERS and THEY want your blood and stuff because THE GOVERNMENT is bringing on THE NEW WORLD ORDER and if you spell ga ga backwards it spells TROUBLE and lady backwards is nothing but pure nonsense but still THE ILLUMINATTI love the evil nonsense and stuff like Jack and Jill going up a hill is OK but that kid that sticks his thumb in a PIE is a GOVERNMENT CONTROLLED MIND FUCKED ZOMBIE and I praise Tila Tequila the beautiful heaven sent ANGEL for inspiring me to step forward and speak the truth about the SATANISTS who are in bed with the music video makers who are in bed with MOONMEN and THE GOVERNMENT and THE OTHERS who are in bed with the sheet makers but not the mattress makers if you can believe that shit because the mattress makers are in league with the PILLOW makers and they are all stuck up assholes and if you read between the lines then you know what I'm talking about but I really can't say more now because they (THEY) are coming to my door again anytime now but I don't care because I am not scared anymore because I took there best shot and I am still here telling the TRUTH and you should all know that CARTOONS with bugs bunny and daffy and speedy border breaker and coyote and the right wing CONSERVATIVE HESTON-LIKE gun toting maniac with the hippy hair and the rest are all SATANIC DUH! why do you think DEVIL is in the NAME of a character from tasmania which is a well known hotspot of SATANS WIVES stay free those of you who know and to those who don't heed my words and I pray for your souls

Monday, October 29, 2012


How awesome is this? This past week Ukrainians (ukrainiens?) have been flocking to my blog in droves! I freaking love the Ukrainian people! I myself am like 20% Ukrainian. The other 80% is 100%  Irish Awesomeness. Whenever I stub my toe or do something totally gay or stupid, I blame my 20% Ukrainian ass for it. I mean all over the world people tell Polish jokes (even Pollacks tell Polish jokes) but scientific studies involving hand puppets and questionnaires have repeatedly shown Ukrainians can not comprehend hand puppets (unless the hand puppet also makes use of a chalk board, colored chalk and small words). What this proves is not clear except that credit fraud in the Ukraine is probably really easy.  Also, we should probably tell more Ukrainian jokes and lay off the Poles for awhile. Aren't the Poles and Ukrainians neighbors? Why don't I ever get any Pollacks visiting my blog? Oh yeah, they're too stupid to know how to turn on a computer. You wouldn't Believe how many Pollacks it Takes to turn on a computer!

Sunday, October 28, 2012


Shady Greg, never the brightest bulb even when compared to a burned out lamp, has perhaps gotten even stupider. Shady got drunk on Gatorade and Kuhlua (he has no sense of taste and a 3 year olds tolerance) and decided it was time for him to join the ever growing throng of people who have tattoos. So Shady staggered stupidly down the block from his home along the waterfront (he has a puddle in front of his home). Anyhow, Shady staggered down to Kasheeva Kare, an all night hooka joint where a "mon" can get anything he wants for a price. (Shady used to date a Kasheeva Kare belly dancer named Woobie who wore an eyepatch before she ran off with a queer puppiteer so he knew the secret knock to get in. It's - shave and a haircut my customer mine beback two bits.) Shady decided to get the tattoo on his ass (apparently he had a grudge against the tattoo artist). After much deliberation he chose to have a picture of Herve Villechaise ("da plane da plane") wearing a white tuxedo standing on Luke Sywalkers home planet etched onto his bottom. Why? Simply so he can tell anyone he meets that he has a tattoo of tattoo on tattoie on his ass.

Friday, October 26, 2012


This blog post goes out to all Canadians living in Canada (all hundred thousand or so) who have begun reading my blog. First, Thank You (unless you are French Canadian. I Fucking hate the French. And French Canadian is even worse. You assholes are Canadian, speak French and walk around with the Queen of England on your money. Fuck you! Make up your mind!). Secondly, as a country Canada is tied with France for number of readers (I hate the French) so if you would just bring some friends and family members to my blog you could leave France in the dust and we could tell those stupid little froggers to "Eat it and Die!" . So I say c'mon Canada you can do it!

Thursday, October 18, 2012



Wednesday, October 17, 2012


I am truly feeling like an international sensation now. In the past week this blog has tripled it's amount of readers from France. Unbelievable! OUI!  (Oui, is french for Si.) I am quite use to attracting a diverse crowd among my readers but for what ever reason I could not gain a stronghold in France. Well, that has certainly changed! Ever since this blogger admitted to a fondness for women with hairy armpits who don't bathe and smell like chimneys and sweat, drink to much and suffer violent mood swings-BIG RATINGS IN FRANCE! Ever since I wrote about my love for arrogant pussies who probably surrender in their sleep-BIG RATINGS IN FRANCE! And now that I admitted Jerry Lewis is a misunderstood,under appreciated comic genius-BIG RATINGS IN FRANCE! OH WAIT. I NEVER SAID ANY OF THOSE THINGS. I FUCKING HATE THE "don't fly over our air space" FUCKING FRENCH! IF I WANTED FRENCH READERS I WOULD WRITE ABOUT FUCKING MIMES AND CRUSTY BREAD AND OTHER STUPID SHIT! IF YOU ARE FRENCH STOP READING MY BLOG! GO KNEEL BEFORE THE GERMANS OR SOMETHING!  AND STOP MAKING REALLY STUPID ARTSY FARTSY MOVIES AND SENDING THEM OVER HERE! ALSO- BEER BEATS WINE! PANCAKES BEAT CREPES! AND FUCKING EVERYBODY BEATS FRANCE. FUCKING SWITZERLAND COULD KICK YOUR ASS!

Tuesday, October 16, 2012


SHADY FUCKING GREG, the sexual role playing deviant who enjoys anal masturbation with a Miss Piggy hand puppet, has sunk to a new ALL TIME low (yes, again). Greg the Fuckwad of Ann Arbor (Official Title. He wears the button on his lapel.) has taken to flat out rooting for Bristol Palin on Dancing with the Wannabes. Shady can't stop talking about how good Bristol looks with her new plastic face. Shady also can't stop talking about how Sarah Palin should be President because she used to look at Russia out her window or something so she should be qualified for anything that comes her way but since she isn't running then maybe Bristol could be Executive Governor because she has probably seen Russia as well or at least Poland if not then at least some Polish Russians wandering around the Deli section of the freakin' supermarket. I walked away in the middle of his crazed rant to have lunch so I don't know if he ever tied it in with the Dancing show or not. Shady is an idiot. He also smokes crack. He blames the crack for the Piggy Puppet anal intrusions but not for his nonsense political beliefs or his teeth.

Saturday, October 6, 2012


Shady Greg, collector of Nun featured PORN, went semi-ballistic yesterday upon hearing that I think Bristol Palin is a disgrace to dancing. Turns out the Shady one is a big huge fan of the entire Palin clan. So much so that both Sarah and Bristol have restraining orders against him (Todd had one but dropped it after Greg airmailed him some cheesecake and pickled moose testicles). Even though Shady isn't allowed within a 25 mile radius of Bristol (which he claims is a simple misunderstanding over what actually constitutes "sexual misconduct in a public forum with a rubber chicken") he still loves her very much. Shady insists that when to the rest of us it appears that Bristol is "choking on sand while her body spasmodically kicks in the last stages of her death throes" she is actually "grooving accutely to professionally instructed chaos". If you haven't guessed Shady is an idiot. Despite all the evil, rotten emails I have recieved from all you pissed off Palinites I stand by my assertion that Bristol Palin can NOT FUCKING DANCE!

Friday, October 5, 2012


So the fat dude with the beard got the boot from DWTS when everybody and their mother knows Bristol Palin should have been the one to go. This is an ongoing problem with the show. Since it is more a popularity contest than a dance contest lets have a common sense check each week before the better dancer gets sent home. So the announcer dude Tom or the big fake titted assistant with the hair can say "Hey Bristol (or whomever it is that week) you didn't get the boot but the fat dude with the beard did. Do you think that's fair?". If the shitty dancer (like Palin) answers "Yes! I do think it's fair" we go to the common sense check where the studio audience gets to vote if the fat dude with the beard should leave or should Bristol leave (or whomever it is that week). If the studio audience agrees that the shittier dancer should stay-Fine! The shittier dancer gets to stay against all common sense. In the case of Bristol Palin though, could somebody just kneecap the whore or something. Bristol Palin CAN'T DANCE!!!!

Saturday, September 29, 2012


Yes, the weird, bizarre and downright disgusting saga of Shady Greg continues to worsen on an almost daily basis. Shady Greg, formerly the dick less wonder, successfully underwent a cock transplant ( sort of successfully. The drugged up Witch Doctor actually transplanted a Rooster above the Shady One's balls. So he now has a feather less "Cock". The rooster was dead during the transplant, only to be resurrected afterward. So Shady Greg actually has a feather less Zombie Cock for a cock). Anyhow, Shady's Zombie Cock "wakes up" at dawn, "Crows" (I am trying not to be gross) and then curls up for slumber until the next dawn. So in Shady"s pants every morning is a true Dawn of the Dead! (sorry. couldn't resist.) Most people are not looking for sex at six in the morning; so needless to say, Greg's new cock had not seen any real duty (I say real duty because the Shady One had taken it for a test run himself. A test run when Greg had truly Choked the Chicken! [real sorry. couldn't resist.]). Anyhow, because Greg couldn't get any action at six in the morning, he went to see his doctor (Doctor Muzambo The Zambian Witch Doctor) to get some advice. Doctor  Muzambo had a head to shrink and couldn't be bothered so to rid himself of Shady he told him to eat some Viagra and see what happens. Shady took this as a dare. "Eat some Viagra. SOME! Well I'll show him. I'll eat a whole lot of Viagra!" So the idiot Shady went home and got out his Polygamist sized bottle of Viagra ( Shady got Viagra after seeing a commercial of a man and woman playing in the yard and thought to himself-Hey I should order me some of those pills because I have always wanted to learn how to throw a football-Shady is an idiot). Shady dumped six pills into his hand, popped them in his mouth and chewed. "Tastes like dick" he thought to himself and popped another six into his mouth. Shady wound up swallowing 27 Viagra over the course of roughly five minutes. Shady felt slightly more alert but nothing else. "These pills are a rip off!" the Shady One thought until he realized his cock was in big can of corn and he was pumping furiously.  Minutes later Greg had straddled a Swanson frozen game hen, box of stuffing in his hand, humping hard and screaming "Whose your daddy, BITCH!?! WHOSE YOUR FUCKING DADDY?". By the end of an hour Shady Sex Maniac Greg had destroyed dinner, fucked a gravy boat, screwed a pop up barnyard book and permanently soiled not one but two Ducks Unlimited down jackets. And that is just the beginning of Greg's ORGY O' MADNESS. I would love to tell you all the rest of it, but having recently sold the rights to this, I guess you'll just have to wait for the movie. (we are hoping to sign Meryl Streep to play Shady and the Octo-mom to play his cock).

Wednesday, September 19, 2012


Please, don't get me wrong, I still like my old Chinese readers from Toronto-It's just that in one freaking day I got dozens upon dozens of new readers from China! To my new Chinese readers I would like to say "Ming ping li zing dim sun chopsticks ling ling ping pong duck" (Welcome. Unisex haircuts. Bad pants. Duck.). Anyhow, I hate freakin' communism and shit and over population and one child laws (as opposed to common sense and birth control and shit) and I am not a big fan of cheap gumball machine prizes. Also, I have to point this out, but for a people who want to be recognized as a technologically advanced society; and it is atleast 1500 years after its invention, why can't you people just admit that the fork beats the shit out of chopsticks anyday? Whatever. Welcome to all the new readers and I hope to entertain you all and stuff but I must warn you that this blog now has a bit of a Pro-Zambia slant (and a big shout out to the Zambia Genocides for their undefeated season!) which is simply unavoidable due to my HUGE Zambian readership. If you would like a more Pro Mao slant then get some family members to visit this blog. Xie xie ni.

Saturday, September 15, 2012


I personally have never felt sorrier for a fellow human being than I feel for Shady Greg at this moment. Shady is a tall, gangly, nebbish, dick less (literally. Dick less.) balding Swedish Hungarian of Polish descent or an evil Nazi experiment gone horribly wrong. Either way, he has always been consistent. Consistently terrible, but consistent. Today, however, Greg threw us for a loop by showing up for work (amazing all on its own since he is the KING of phoning it in) dressed almost all in black-Black cowboy hat, black denim shirt, black denim jeans with black belt and huge silver belt buckle shaped like a sea horse (?) and pink Crocs that he bought at a garage sale for a buck (he loves the fucking things). What made me feel so sorry for him though was his face. As much as his face resembles that of a make-up less clown fighting his way out of a coma while trying to remember how to speak; at least it's Greg's face. Today, however, Shady showed up with an anemic Chihuahua humping his chin. "Hey Shady! Did you rub glue all over your face and then ask your wife to shave her legs over it?", asked Jimmie. Greg glared at Jimmie and responded with this gem: " Yeah? Well, your face. Hardy hardy hardy ha ha ha ha ha ha ha  Hardy Hardy Ha!"- Because Greg is an idiot. Anyhow, we all kind of just stared at the almost fuzzy chin of Shady Greg as he attempted to walk like John Wayne to the front of the appliance department and announced "Howdy Pard ners! Y'all can jes call me Rugged Greg Lincoln". We laughed at Shady until our stomachs hurt and he crawled crying crooked tears to his hiding spot next to the Boys TOUGHSKINS jeans rack mumbling to himself how much he liked his "Lincoln Beard" and waited for Lona to come over and piss in his mouth.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012


Shady Greg, the Jack-Ass Idiot with a heart of slime, continues to defy  normalcy. His latest tale of fucked up woe is as bizarre as I've ever heard here at Kitchen's and More. Let's start at the beginning. At least as near to the beginning as we can get. One fine day Greg was eating yogurt covered pretzels on the sales floor and thought to himself that if his dick was covered in yogurt he would get more blowjobs. Two problems with this idea right off the start: 1). Greg married a Jewish woman. How much head is she going to give when she won't even put pork in her mouth! Besides, they've been married a long time and after the first five years blowjobs become as rare as Pink Unicorns. 2). Shady Greg has no actual DICK. He wears a homemade contraption in place of a dick that accepts screw-in tools like mini-weedwhackers and magnifying glasses and other weird things that help Shady feel slightly more masculine walking around dickless. So that day Shady had a frozen earthworm in his pants (he planned on fishing after work) and decided to test his yogurt dick blowjob theory. He coated his earthworm in cherry vanilla yogurt and then squatted over a bottom freezer dangling his dripping stuff into the freezer hoping it would freeze the yogurt quickly. Shady could have just unscrewed the frozen earthworm without having to drop his pants around his ankles and squatting over a showroom floor bottom freezer but Shady is an exhibitionist Sick Fuck. Anyhow, without dragging this out any further than it needs to be, long story short and everything, Greg's yogurt covered earthworm of a dick is the whole reason Gay John wound up with a crazed walleye trying to force its way down his throat! And before any pissed off Jewish women angrily contact me, let me state for the record that I'm sure some of you are wonderful cocksuckers.

Saturday, August 25, 2012


New posts are on the way, but I have not been able to type in comfort because feather covered spears with hand carved stone points keep zipping by my head. Apparently, a hit squad from Zambia has been dispatched to "Gut me like a rhino" for what was interpreted to be sarcastic comments in my previous post. For the record, I was not being sarcastic! I meant "try to stay cool" in a wide variety of positive ways, not as any sort of commentary on Zambia's frequent use of illegal "sweatshops" to manufacture plastic monkey paw or whatever Zambia may manufacture out side of dirt. I love Freakin' Zambia, OK? So could the tribal leader of Zambia (or whoever is in charge over there. The witch doctor extraordinaire, maybe?) please call off  the hit squad?

Saturday, August 11, 2012


I would like to extend my hand in friendship to all my new readers from  ZAMBIA! I am almost positive that Zambia lies (or sits) somewhere in Africa. Either the country or the continent as they are both spelled the same so I don't know which is which (although I do know one is bigger than the other). But whatever, it doesn't really matter as the big news is I have gained a huge new readership in Zambia! And I vow, here and now, to do my best not to lose or upset that readership. In fact, you will find , I am very Pro Zambia. Unless, of course,  Zambia is one of those countries that is run by a freakin' people eating madman whose into pet torture or giraffe beating, or some sort of insane military government or one of those small dicked but ego trippin' mirrored sunglasses wearing dictators or some other horrible thing. Then I would not be Pro Zambia at all, but rather very Anti Zambia while being very Pro Free Zambia and shit, ya know? My point being I love the Zambian people if not always the Zambian government...Unless the Zambian government is run by some sort of Mother Theresa type, then I would say "Long live Zambian Theresa", and stuff. Anyhow, any true Zambia loving Zambian will enjoy reading this blog as it will, from here on out, contain lots of Zambian folklore and stuff like that one about the lion who ate two Jews and a Christian and then walked into a hut bar or bar hut or whatever and the hut tender said "So how do you feel about Muslims?" or something like that. Hysterical! Anyway, have a great day and try to stay cool.

Friday, July 27, 2012


Poor, delusional John. He can't catch a break from anyone, least of all himself. Even his parents look down on him (they gave him the middle name "Oh Well"). Nothing goes right for John-Example: John's girlfriend (named Howie) has a thicker mustache than him and he has bigger boobs than her! His best friend, Shady Greg, once promised to teach John "The Cool Guy Secret Handshake". John needed three penicillin shots to clear up the infection and couldn't sit for a month (Even worse, the pictures Greg promised to burn are all over the Internet with captions like "That'll leave a stain" and "INCOMING!" If you really need to see them just go to Slap Happy Bare Anyhow, John has been reading management books, jogging, dieting and squinting his eyes like (he thinks) Clint Eastwood all in an attempt to be taken more seriously. John desperately wants to be treated with respect (an almost universal desire, admittedly) it's just that his latest plan to garner said respect is absurd, scary, freaky, and very GAY (not that there's anything wrong with gay)! John has shaved all hair from his body, including eyebrows, and slathered his body in butter oil while wearing clear see-thru heels. He demands to be called Silky Pooh! Now no one has any respect for him (he has even earned a new nickname from Alex in the Lawn & Garden department who saw Johns shrunken almost not there manhood and titled him Sliced Mushroom on the spot)!

Thursday, July 26, 2012


Ever since revealing that Shady Greg, a giant DICK, is in fact, dickless, I have been swamped with letters and emails asking if he is transgender or something. The answer is NO! He only seems that way (effeminate, I mean). My readers expressed interest in knowing more about a man (term used loosely) with no bulge. I must clear up this misconception, Shady has several bulges (His ass bulges in odd directions like an obese rhinoceros in cheap Salvation Army slacks.)(Wait, are there skinny rhino's?). There actually is an ever changing bulge in the front of his jeans: allow me to explain. Have you ever seen the Bruce Lee movie Enter the Dragon? You know the Bad Guy-Mr. Han? He is missing his right hand (Mr. Han...hand) so he keeps a collection of screw in hands that he can use whenever he wants like a werewolf hand or a skeleton hand or a long fingered green alien hand; whatever strikes his fancy, right? Well, Shady has a bunch of screw in ... devices, I guess, would be the best way to describe them. Not dildo's or vibrators because Greg only fantasizes sex. He does not participate. No, what Shady screws into the space where his mini elf dick had been, is an impressive array of Inspector Gadget type tools. Literally. Greg has flower snippers, mini-weed whackers, a 9 volt drill driver, jumper cables, lighted magnifying glass, (ironically) a small hose, and he used to have an automated fly swatter but got rid of it because it kept hitting him in his own zipper (it was a FLY swatter!).

Friday, July 20, 2012


Shady Greg now knits his own cup holders. Sick and tired of having a traditional white stitched cup holder chafing his balls (yes the fucking idiot wears a cup to sell appliances. He says you never know when someone may decide to kick you in the balls. Being dickless has made him overly protective of his, I'm guessing here, unbelievably shrivelled, grey and balding 63 year old nutsack. And yes I mean 63 years old! I am well aware that Shady is only 54, his balls , however, are 63 due to a screwup during the transplant procedure. The transplant is a whole story unto itself since it left Greg with 4 balls. The doctors forgot to remove the originals). Anyway, Shady knits his own multi-colored cup holders now, even trying to sell them to the rest of us (Yes! Even the women. He says they can use them as "Ben-Wa overflow".  Greg should probably not speak to women).

Sunday, July 1, 2012


Shady Greg, the worlds shadiest salesman, has sunk to a new low! I know. I know. He sinks to new lows more often than a dog licks his balls (not its balls but his. Shady Greg's. He is one sick bastard!) but it is still fun to report his new lows. Besides, this one is funny shit. Shady had an elderly woman in the store looking for a new, cheap, basic, beige, non-fancy oven. Shady pointed at a few items but (even for him) he wasn't very helpful. The woman didn't see anything that she really wanted, thanked Greg for his time, and said she would shop around. A co-worker,under his breath, said "Way to walk another one, Dickless Wonder" , referring to Greg by one of his many self-nicknames (Yes, self-nicknamed Dickless Wonder. He takes a perverse, masochistic pride in being dickless. And because I know you're curious it's due to a lawnmower that "purred like a kitten" and he "just wanted to see what it felt like"). Anyhow, Shady took offense to the implication that he walks customers so he caught up to the senior lady before she made it to the door and dragged her back to the sales floor. He began his "do over" by complimenting the woman ( "I must say your boobs don't droop too badly for an old broad") and offering "candy" from his pocket ("The red ones take you up and the blue ones bring you down"), thankfully she declined. She then informed Greg that she did not wish to purchase anything today, and that's when Shady took in a huge breath and held it. The woman stared at him for a moment before asking "What are you doing?". Shady only responded by shaking his head at her while never breaking eye contact. The woman said "You are VERY odd. I really must leave now". She tried to step around him but he blocked her path. Shady began to turn blue. He fell to his knees while his cheeks developed an interesting hue of violet. Shady collapsed face down on the dirty linoleum, his face an intense shade of Hell Fire and Purple Pain, beating his fists and kicking his feet, while his customer said "Get up! Get up you broken brained Looney!". Dear Sweet Ruby ran over shouting "Gleg! Gleg! You look good in purple. Oh! You is dying! Gleg! 'For you die, how I fix sale?". The Shady Ones eyes disapeared into his bloated, raisen colored face-his lips pure white, his nose flared, his chest creaking like ancient floorboards,every muscle screaming for oxygen with his back arched in agony- The frail, old woman broke. "TAKE A BREATH FOR GODS SAKE!!" She screamed. Shady took in a very Glorious, Life saving breath. He looked at the old woman and said "So, you're ready to purchase something"? She said yes. Shady Greg Leered in TRIUMPH. She bought a $10 gift card and shuffled quickly towards the exit.

Sunday, June 17, 2012


Shady Greg, never one to be cool in front of humans, has taken to attempting coolness in front of his dogs. Long shunned from any meaningful human contact, with no sane friends who also have the power of speech (his sane "friends" when trapped by his company feign muteness while searching for escape routes) and a father-in-law who never hides his displeasure with Greg; the Shady One now worries what his dogs think of him. Most humans enjoy dogs because dogs are non-judgemental and love their owners unconditionally. Greg's dogs have lots and lots of conditions before they love him, even forcing him to sign a non-disclosure form concerning the extent of the relationship (Shady isn't allowed to discuss whether or not he has ever petted either dog until 10 years after the oldest ones' death---Also, I just find this to be a rather interesting side note, but, most dogs have absolutely no religious beliefs what-so-ever. Shady Greg has two dogs now who, ever since moving in with him, at the very least, firmly believe in Purgatory).Anyhow, Shady noticed that his Dwarf Doberman (not a min pin but an honest to goodness Dwarf Doberman), named Salt Substitute, frequently eats its own poop immediately after dropping. Shady, who thinks Salt Substitute is pretty cool, decided this must be what cool dogs do. Therefor, so must he. So Shady, in plain view of the neighbors now shits his own lawn then drops to all fours and eats it. He then runs inside and washes it down with cool refreshment from the toilet. Sadly, his dogs still think him needy and nerdy.

Friday, June 15, 2012


Cowboy John, who constantly reminds us that he is going "cowboy" by saying things like "My nickname should be pendulum for all the swinging I'm doing!", has now added a lasso to his accessory list. He calls it his Lasso o' Truth (Yes. We did tell him that is very Wonder Woman- ish. However, up until 3 days ago he was called Gay Deep Throat Massage Sucks A Lot Jonnie the Human Porta Potty John. So he didn't really care. Besides, he wears vintage 1972 Mark Spitz aqua blue Speedo's everyday with thigh high red Wonder Woman boots. I think the lasso is just the next step on his personal path of evolution and self-discovery. Also, I am really starting to think that he is a bigger flame than the Olympic Torch. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Please, no hate mail. Anyhow, The Lasso O' Truth is supposed to bring out the best in each associate and help us to be honest with customers and increase our sales per hour by some convoluted system Cowboy came up with. The funny thing was yesterday when Cowboy John "truth lassoed" Shady Greg and the Lasso O' Truth (really just a piece of cheap gold colored twine) immediately caught fire and began to smoke while The Shady One's eyes bugged out and he began barking "Truth sucks Wang! Truth sucks Wang!" (Wang being Shady's Chinese opium dealer who lies a lot). I don't think the Lasso O' Truth will last much longer.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

YEAH, HE IS NOW KNOWN AS COWBOY JOHN ( or Gay Spurs) who cares

The Gayest of the Gay has changed his name, yet again. Due to an online management manual written by an inexperienced sarcastic child with no previous work record which has convinced Gay Stress Throat Massage John (or whatever the Hell his last nickname was) to change his management style. He "learned" the secret to a happy work force (farce?) is "to feel a connectivity to the management staff". This new knowledge has led to GayBoy calling himself Cowboy John. Is he a cowboy because he rides a horse, ropes cattle, and shoots bandits? No. Is he a cowboy who drives a pick-up truck, chews "tobaccy" and talks like an idiot? No. He is not even Bon Jovi gay cowboy-ish. Nope. The deluded charity case adopted the moniker Cowboy John because he has (apparently. according to him. I have not checked.) ceased wearing Boxers or Briefs or anything underneath his Korean knock-off Dockers; hence, he is "going Cowboy". Even more hence, Cowboy John. Thus hence the Hence-ness, thusly. Cowboy John then felt compelled to describe how "being without constraints while wearing cheap thin slacks" has caused him to walk faster because "the rush of the air provides its' own excitement which he then passes on to his employees with a grateful (and satisfied) smile. I told him if I so much as caught a hint of satisfied smiling excitement heading towards me I would stuff him in a microwave and Nuke it out of him. He then shouted "YIPPEE! MOVE IT ALONG LIL' DOGGIE! HAPPY TRAILS KEMOSABE...". I shoved his Village People Chaps down his throat.

Friday, June 8, 2012



Sunday, June 3, 2012


Shady Greg, always a bit of an ass, but now is UBER-ASS do to celebrating his 25th anniversary with Kitchens and More. Yes, believe it or not, Shady has been with the company for 25 years. I, personally, am having a hard time believing it for two reasons : 1) Putting up with Greg for a year is close to impossible, 25? No fucking way! 2) Kitchens and More have only been in business for 19 years. Very Shady indeed! So Shady likes to show us all his "25 years of Service" pin that the company gave him in lieu of cash for his (17 1/2 at best) 25 years of working here. Big fucking deal, dimwit. Have a cookie. Anyhow, now that Greg has "proof" of his tenure here he has become completely insufferable. He's always talking about the "Good ol' days" and shit like "Back in the day we did things a little differently" and my personal favorite "I remember when..."- I mean this fucking idiot can't remember to chew his gum and he wants me to listen to his bullshit stories of yesteryear. I don't think so. Even more annoying is his flat out refusal to help with anything around the store because "I've been here 25 years and have put away more stock than you have ever dreamed of so you can put that away yourself". Also, he finally saw "Dick in a box" on YouTube and now walks around with his dick literally in a Fucking BOX! Plus he won't stop singing that same line over and over in a mumbled whisper of a voice "dick inna box  dick inna box whoa baby whoo dick inna box yowza". He is absolutely OUT OF CONTROL!

Friday, May 25, 2012


Shady Greg, the notorious prick, decided to get even with all of his co-workers. Get even for what? For the crime of being Bastards and Bitches in our behaviour towards him (in his mind). So Shady Greg hatched his most diabolical plan to date! He created the Fart Diet! You may of course wonder what a Fart Diet is. It's a diet that allows the user to eat whatever he wants, so long as it creates the most noxious gas imaginable. For instance, eating an orange is pointless because nobody has ever complained about orange farts. However, apple farts are some of the most disgusting on earth. Thus apples are a staple of the Fart Diet. Wine. Wine does not cause nasty gas, however, beer will do wonders to the Ozone! Therefor beer is a mandatory part of the Fart Diet. You must understand, Shady Greg is a sick, deranged bastard who studied his farts for 17 years (as part of a family unity project) and used his findings to create a daily regimen of eating, focused on farting. Shady determined that eggs were responsible for 63% of his "puffers" - Farts that blow out semi-softly with a slight whooshing sound. His research showed that garlic, which is a natural cleanser, shot out Retard Making smells in a machine gun rat-a-tat-tat way that also "Felt" really,really good. Everyone on the planet knows beans cause gas, but Shady Greg learned to differentiate between pinto,black, and navy bean farts. Like a gas obsessed alchemist Shady created his own hybrid bean which contained the A-Bomb power of a black bean fart with the elongated blasting noise of baked beans while still delivering the central nervous system attack of a Louisiana Red Beans and Rice shocker. When you combine this kind of, otherwise, useless information with the drive to eat meals made entirely of "fart" foods you tend to get gastrointestinal attacks of COW HERD proportions! Think of it- one man consuming a garlic,apple, and Greg-O-Bean (his name for his bean) six egg omelet , topped with muenster cheese (for gas you can see!) and coconut (for "texture"-don't ask me, talk to the sick fuck) and washed down with Blatz Beer (beer guarunteed to flex your sphincter) and you have a walking, unhinged, Bio-Weapon with the power to melt plastic at twenty yards while killing flies (and coworkers) within an 18 foot radius. This is what we here at Kitchens and More have to deal with. GOD HELP US!

Thursday, May 24, 2012


Gay Deep Throat John has dropped 'John' from his name completely and now wishes to be known as Gay Stress. For a while he considered wearing a mask and cape calling himself The Gay Stress like a twisted superhero whose main power is freaking out and crumbling in the clutch but he couldn't come up with a color combo for the outfit that he liked (the fuchsia cape clashed with yellow trousers and green mask). I really wanted him to be The Gay Stress because I got a HUGE kick out of the motto he created for this erstwhile alter-ego which was to be-"Faster than a speeding sedative, more powerful than being "Outed", and able to duck multiple blame simultaneously It's a dick  It's a dork (it's a little bit o' both) It's The Gay Stress!"- Isn't that just fucking Awesome? But it wasn't to be as John, oops, as Gay Stress decided that superhero costumes are to difficult to maintain and adding a "pooper seat" to one was undignified (How the fuck Does Superman shit in that thing?). So anyhow we now have a manager here at Kitchens and More known as Gay Stress. The reason for the name change from Gay Deep Throat John to Gay Stress? Stress. While all managers here are walking deposits of ulcer creating stress (except for Billy Dee Shawn-Smooth Mofo) John wanted to differentiate himself from the pack by pointing out his gayness, not his Guy on John gayness but his Good Ship Lollipop gayness. So with that in mind Gay Stress was born. We can only hope he soon becomes THE GAY STRESS!!!

Friday, May 18, 2012


Shady Greg. Gay Deep Throat John. Brownish Trolls. The Horseless Barbarian. GhostMark.- One would think that those of us here at Kitchens and More have been struck with enough Fist of Freak Force that we deserve a break from the bedlam. But, no. No rest for the wicked or those they surround. We have now added the Brown Nose Bewitcher to our long list of  loathable losers. And if She were not enough to be hit with; She created The Wicked Enchantment of  GhostMark! The Tragic Tale of GhostMark  is far too long to go into here and now, but suffice to say that before the arrival of The Brown Nose Bewitcher, his haunting 'twas but a whisper. The Brown Nosed One arrived quietly, about two months ago, under light of a full moon. She was of fairly normal appearance, weather worn but not shabby, with feet three sizes bigger than her height would suggest. If only we had recognized that omen for what it was! But no. Alas, we of blind eye knew not what we saw (The Bewitching!) and saw nothing out of sort. We were told her name was Deb Orzo (A lie!) and that she was but a transfer from a newly closed store in our chain ( a store closed not because of economy but of Witch Craft?). I say she came quietly. True! But her silence lasted but a minute. At first her nose was normal in look, normal in size; a nose that blended within unremarkableness to go virtually unnoticed. Soon enough tho', the Mark did appear. As manager after manager fell under this She-Devil spell the Mark grew more distinctive. If she did not like a schedule, the schedule was changed. If she wanted to leave work early, she was granted early leave. As this Bewitched Bitchy Beast Boldly Bloodied Bum-managers into submission (which they thanked her for) the Mark filled into its final terrifying form- That of a Bulls Eye, all in brown, engulfing the end of her nose. Using her gigantic feet to propel her inhumanly she then lept o'top the microhoods and shrieked with blood curdling power-"I am the Brown Nose Bewitcher! Beware for I am Queen of the Damned (dumd ass customer) and I now rule this store (except on my days off. I get tired like anyone else). Then she lept to the ground, shook out her Medusa like mane, and ambled (first time I ever saw a chick amble!) over to our manager and said "Rosie sweeeeety. Can I leave early? I tired." Of course she was granted early leave. I must put aside this telling now, but soon I shall share the terrible truth known as The Wicked Enchantment of GhostMark.

Friday, May 11, 2012


Shady Greg, the mentally unstable jackass idiot of annoyance, has become even more unstable and annoying. Here at Kitchens and More we have hired a new associate named Arthur (Art) (or Franklin because he looks like John Adams). Art is a pleasant sort of fellow, quiet, sort of nervous, with an odd way of speaking which makes me think he used to get his ass kicked a lot so now try's to go un-noticed or something. Anyhow, Shady Fuckin' Greg decides he wants to raise money for charity and he is looking for a way to do it. Now, before you go thinking Shady is some kind of nice guy let me make it clear that charity is actually Charity- A clapped up,hunched back,toothless pole dancer who's missing her left foot due to a weed whacker incident (incident not accident). Charity wants a boob job. Shady wants her to have one. Apparently, she is also missing one boob and the one she has is flat,ugly, and hairy! So she and Shady want her to get a brand new big one-Centered!-without hair. Charity is white but Shady is trying to convince her to get a black boob because he has unresolved issues to clear up and it won't show a tan line. Anyhow, Charity found out that Art works at Kitchens and More when she came in to shop prosthetics for her missing foot (We don't sell prosthetics per say, but do sell big party platters and bowls which ,if attached properly, would allow Charity a sort of gliding motion while never being without onion dip). Charity saw Art and spat in his general direction. Art flinched and hid in the Home Goods section until she left. Turns out Art, long ago in days gone by, used to be Charity's number one non-contact lap dance customer (Art refused contact due to germ concerns. Charity had to use the arm rests to raise herself above him). Art would then tip Charity, who's real name is Cinamon Roxy; a name she felt wasn't "stripperish" enough, with a Canadien dollar. Charity considered Canadien dollar tips to be a very bad tip since at the time a Canadien dollar was worth like 12 cents in America (However, a Canadien dollar was worth $57 in Peru or the head of a chicken. The head of a chicken in Peru is of course worth two ox tails. Two ox tails or the head of a chicken both being easier to spend in Peru than $57). Anyhow, when Shady Fuckin' Greg (or the Great Gregarious Greg the Grand Guy-another one of his stupid self nicknames that nobody uses. Gregarious, I would guess,is to be ironic because he can barely string two coherent sentences together) heard that Charity disliked Art and he decided he too disliked Art. Charity decided Greg was easily led enough that she could get him to do anything she wished. She told Greg to "rid me, and thus the world, of the disturbance that is The Dread Tipper Art". Shady Greg, having the IQ of a clam and the courage of a bunny took this to mean that he should pester Art until Art leaves. Shady did  attempt to solicit financial contributions from all of his co-workers for the pleasure of watching Art get "Wet Willied". None of us contributed. And one day there Art stood, alone by the dehumidifiers, when Shady snuck up behind him, screamed "Wet Willy!", and shoved his pinky sized dick into Arthurs waxy canal. Most people ,of course, use a saliva soaked finger but Greg didn't want to have to wash his hands later.

Friday, May 4, 2012


Gay Deep Throat John is now trying to live up to his moniker with a massively FLAMING GAY hit on the new operations manager who is actually straight. Pathetic and funny at the same time. John has taken to wearing little spurs on his shoes and carrying a riding crop which he thumps on his thighs while whispering "hurt me baby" to nobody in particular. John is also singing the name game song, or whatever the Hell it's called, constantly, under his breath " Tony bony a banana a moan-eee Ton-eyyy Bone meeee". Then he shudders and croaks "women...I like women" (with less and less conviction it seems). Poor confused and abused Deep Throat. Life is so uncertain.

Monday, April 30, 2012


As soon as word hit the street that  Kitchens and More was employing a "Yogi Bear-assed" baritone who wished to be known as Gay Deep Throat John; the phone just would (wood?) not stop ringing. We have also seen a noticeable increase in foot traffic by the more...shall we say "colorful" crowd. Honestly, yesterday there were enough lisp's wandering around to fill a Pride parade in downtown 'Frisco. I heard our tool department experienced a run on Gorilla Tape because, and I quote but cannot explain, "it's the best for holding down a 'tuck between' on dancing nights". Anyhow, this is all due to Gay John adding Deep Throat to his nickname. John himself is oblivious to what's going on. A guy who referred to himself as Toothless Frank Clap Spreader followed John around all day saying over and over "fifties and hundreds over here fifties and hundreds me boy" until his voice gave out and he left. One weird looking little guy with green and pink stripes in his hair gave John a Blue Oyster Bar Forever! T-shirt and whispered in awe "you are my hero". Our very own Rick Palmsundaybrook asked John to sign a pair of ass less black leather chaps (Rick insists they are for his very progressive Reverend). G.D.T. John walks around with this "gee whiz" grin thinking all this attention is due to his stupid announcements and not the fact that calling oneself Gay Deep Throat John might attract RuPaul devotees and newly released prison bitches with a taste for sodomy as commerce (a Do-Rag wearing Queen named Rudy Dee said John looked worth "two cartons of Kools and a Pop Rocks Enema). John winced when he heard that but started walking a little prouder. Honest.

Sunday, April 29, 2012


All hail the fragile male ego of Gay John. A man so abused by life that one little complement from a nine year old girl sent his head spinning off to Wonder Land. Gay John came down to the appliance department, here in Kitchens and More, apparently with the express wish of aggravating all (wish fulfilled) when he decided it was time to make a store announcement. So the Gay One hooks himself up to the P.A. system (First he had to run scales with his voice. The pretentious Bastard.) Anyway, once he deemed his voice to be properly warmed up, he began to speak. He made his announcement (something about saving his ass, please help, if you can. I wasn't really listening.) and this cute little girl, certainly no older than nine and possibly as young as six (I don't have any kids. They all look the same.) complemented John on his voice. He thanked her and patted her on the head before offering his autograph to her. She declined by saying "Get real, Pancake!" (?) and skipping off to her mother. That should have been the end of it. A chagrined Gay John should have shuffled out and along with his head down, but no, not him, not (Broadway) Gay John! The delusional tap dancer actually launched into a remarkably long, rambling story about how for years he was a highly regarded Carnival Barker. Who gives a shit right? I know. John said he has always been aware of his "rich,beautiful,luxorious and resonant baritone" and thought that if it were not too much trouble he'd like to be known from here forward as Deep Throat. Once I recovered from my laughing fit I said "No you don't you fucking idiot". John is too young and un-read to know about Watergate or Linda Lovelace. So after I explained these things to him he actually seemed to ponder for a moment before saying "OK how about Gay Deep Throat John"?

Thursday, April 26, 2012


Shady Greg, perhaps the sickest salesman slinging shit (now literally) in the country has added proctology to his personal list of Gross-Out hobbies. Yes, hobbies. Shady Greg is now practicing canine proctology (procto-ing a dogs ass, I guess) for free. The Shady One apparently so enjoys his new hobby that he is advertising with neighborhood flyer's." Is your dogs anus too tight? Does your little REX or SPOT need a good fisting? Should little FLUFFY have her poop - hand examined - by an interested adult? Yes, PLEASE! Seriously, bring me your pet (dogs and lizards accepted. no cats. well, maybe a TOMCAT or two) and I, GREG THE ANAL-MAN, shall examine its poopershoot for free !Also I get to keep what I find!) ". It then goes on with Greg's phone number and a picture of a Pomeranian smiling (yes smiling) while a hand holding a pink dildo does the un-speakable to the poor little guy. Thankfully, the police have been notified and with his previous record (Two years for transporting an underage llama across state lines ) he should be put out of business soon.

Thursday, April 19, 2012


To better understand how the Shady One got to be as cynical and deranged as he is, I share the following true story, which he himself told me late one night when he had been drinking on the job, eyes bleary, vomit on his shoes (Which had at first caused Greg to scream "Where the fuck did the corn come from? I haven't had any corn!") dribble on his chin. Shady told me that before he found his current and "Glorious" wife he had been previously married. I asked him what caused the first marriage to collapse and, words slurring greatly, he relayed this story: I was finishing the worst shift of my life. All my customers had been assholes, i had been hammered with returns and was ending my shift $3200 in the hole. On my way home I got t-boned by some stupid, high teenager with no insurance. My car was smashed in on the passenger side now and I had only bought it the week before. Needless to say I was pissed! So I drive home, and have to park it in the driveway because my garage door opener was on the fritz. Anyhow, I get out of my car and through an open upstairs window I hear my then wife moaning. At first, as I stood there, The moaning was soft and could have meant she was injured or something. As I made my way to the front door though her moaning grew in intensity and was punctuated with little "Oh Baby"s and "Come on"s and shit. I burst through my front door and stopped at the bottom of my stairs. There, I stood for a second, hereing my wife moan and scream and swear in ecstacy like she had never done for me. I told myself she was  masturbating. She COULDN"T  be cheating on me. Not me damnit! But deep down I knew she was. With my wife beginning to yell "FUCK ME HARDER! FUCK ME HARDER!" I charged up the stairs and kicked open our bedroom door. And there she was. On the bed. My best friend fucking her from behind. I cursed my wife "You Bitch! You Whore! You Slut!" then I turned to my best friend and I screamed "BAD DOG! BAD DOG!".

Sunday, April 15, 2012


Shady Greg has a very guilty conscious. Sometimes just saying hi to Greg will elicit a very funny response. One time Shady was kneeling in front of  a broom closet and I said "What's up, Greg?". He turned quickly and half screamed "I've never sucked a cock in my life!". Another time He was leaning against a wall, eyes half closed, small smile tugging at his lips and I said "what's up, Greg?". His eyes opened wide and he half screamed "I"ve NEVER sucked a cock in my life!". This other time Greg was trying to sell a dishwasher to a customer and the customer asked "How much is installation?" Greg shoved the customer and yelled "I've never sucked a cock in my life!". So just the other day Greg was walking in and and our manager said "Hi Greg. How was your weekend" and with an embarrassed  face Greg said "I've NEVER swallowed!"

Saturday, April 14, 2012


Greg is a fucking retard who plays with cardboard boxes at work pretending that they are accordions, hamburgers, binoculars or a dozen other things retarded 50 year olds find amusing. So all this time we thought he was shady we were wrong. I mean he is shady but he is mostly retarded. Greg see's a young chick walk by and he says "Sure she has saddlebags but I'd fuck her horse!". So he is a sick retard as well. Greg farts and says "Sorry just thinking out loud". Every time! Greg puts VISINE on his dick. Why? So he never gets a "Red Eye". Fucking retard. Every time he burps he says "Tastes like chicken". Every time! If he has to take a dump he announces "Hey it's time to go drop the kids off at the pool" and if he needs to pee he announces "Time to salt the slug and watch it shrivel" which doesn't even make sense except for the FACT that he's a fuckin' retard! Greg opened up a stapler and told those of us unfortunate enough to be trapped on the floor with him that it was a stapler puppet. "Would you like to talk to my stapler?" he asked me. I growled that he should leave me the fuck alone before I snapped his neck. The moron stuck the stapler in my face and sang in some sort of faggy Kermit voice "Lookie Lookie Lookie a bad mood gets no cookie cookie cookie". I stuffed Greg  and his puppet (Bitey) into a dryer. A minute later a strangled faggy Kermit voice from inside the dryer sang "Nobody understands the trouble I've seen..." I turned the dryer on and walked away.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012


So often this blog focuses on the shadier aspects of Shady Greg without pausing to look at the actual accomplishments of the man himself. Today that will change. Less than an hour ago the Shady One walked a pair of lesbians in absolutely grand fashion, and he did this, not on his home court of Appliances (where he is most comfortable at walking customers) but on the foreign soil of Lawn and Garden. Some people might think it is easier to walk someone in a department that you are not familiar with. Not true! It is actually harder for most salespeople because, we (The good salespeople) actually want the customers to have a positive experience here at Kitchens and More, we want the customer to leave happy so we go out of our way to get them the information they seek or the help they need. Not Shady Greg. No, the Shady One does not care for or about customers. Yes, he wants their money, but a pick pocket has better people skills than Greg. So when the lesbian couple stopped Greg and asked him for help it should come as no surprise that he tried to feign a heart attack. He clutched his chest, fell to his knees, and said "aarrhhhhggggg! I'm coming to join you ...What was that chicks name from Sanford and Son. You know, when Red Foxx would say ' I'm coming to join ya baby'...'This is the big one honey'...You can't remember either, eh? Oh well...Arrrrrgggghhghgg". Then his head dropped to the floor, he closed his eyes and lay there for about two minutes until one of the lesbians (The incredibly pissed off and offended lesbians) kicked him and screamed for him to get up and help them. Shady grudgingly got to his feet and said "All right. What do you need?". Lesbian #1 (Both lesbians were named Patty) said "We would like to purchase a Lawn Tractor, please". To which Greg responded "$1500 is a lot to spend for a vibrator... What? Not even a smile? OK. How about this, A lawn tractor? How about giving men a chance? Nothing? Fine. Last try. A lawn tractor? How about just using scissors? Your kind are supposed to love scissoring!".  Lesbian #2, or Patty #1, kicked Greg so hard between the legs he went from Balls to Ball (one big lumpy blue ball). The Patty's left and Shady Greg had officially walked his 1,000,000 customer. Way to go Shady.

Monday, April 9, 2012


The latest rumour to swirl around the sales floor here at Kitchens and More is a really, really sick and twisted one. This is perhaps the grossest thing I have ever heard of, and I can only pray that it is not true. I share this  tidbit of slimy trash only because it amazes me how depraved our existence can be. Anyway brace yourselves and here goes : With their significant others out of town on Easter Sunday, Gay John and Shady Greg got together for beer and pizza (this has not been confirmed but certainly sounds believable so far). Alledgedly, around 6 pm with the Sun still blazing brightly and the better part of a case of Sam Adams drained the two perverted Sicko's decided to make a video. A video they could send in to "Americas funniest home videos". One they hoped would win them first prize. I have not seen this video. I am not positive it exists. My sources, however, are impeccable and the two degenerates in question seem likely so... The video suposedly shows Gay John remove his pants, underwear, socks, and shoes and wander outside to sit on the curb. Both Gay and Shady are said to be giggling hysterically, sipping their beers as John begins to lather his dick (yes his dick) with 100% pure honey. He then leans his head back like a sunbathing Satyr leering wildly, moaning loudly as a cute little Pekinese puppy named Fluffy (who's owned by a 7 year old Jerrys kid) licks the honey off of him and Shady yells "Stay in the frame!". Apparently this continues until Gay John yells "Heel" and, ironically enough, FACIALS a LAP DOG! Before the screen fades black Shady Greg is said to shout "Let's try peanut butter next".


Shady Greg, that lovable lug who we all love...who am I kidding? Just because Shady Greg is losing his grip on his all ready shaky sanity and most likely will go postal any day now; I can't say we all love him. Shady Greg is of course, shady. He is also evil,despicable,sneaky,snaky,snarky,snotty, and shit speaking. Loathsome. Terrible. Backstabbing. Two faced. WOW! Sorry,  thought I was done describing Greg and I was just getting started. Smelly. Satanic. Hellish. Mud crawling. Pit loving. Sorry. Get me started and it's hard to stop. Anyhow, Shady Greg is acting crazier every day. As you all know Shady is a salesman. Most sales people expect to see customers on a daily basis. Not Greg. Not any longer. Now when a customer walks into the store (Kitchens and More here in lovely downtown *******,Mi) Greg freaks out. A lady approached Shady yesterday and he nearly jumped through the ceiling, squealing like a little girl. The woman apologized and asked Greg for help and Greg hissed (yes hissed) at her "Lady get away from me you're freaking me the fuck out! And get that snake off your foot before he swallows it!". OK Greg didn't actually say that thing about the snake but he could have. That's how crazy he is acting. It's like he doesn't see customers anymore even when they are right in front of him. Then when they speak to him he jumps and shrieks and generally just freaks out. He got so bad on Saturday that he wound up sitting in the corner of the sales floor, knees pulled up to his chest, cigarette in mouth (Greg had never smoked in his life. Now he usually has 3 or 4 going on the floor at once! Totally against the rules and all social decorum) mumbling about bats and giraffes (who the fuck ever puts bats and giraffes together except a fucking wacko?). Anyhow I figure Shady is going to walk into work any day now and just start blasting. I would like to get on his good side so that I don't get shot but it's probably too late for that. Besides, how do you get on the good side of a chain smoking, sale stealing, animal hallucinating, sweat dripping, snake hissing, recognizable wacko hiding in corners? Approach from the front, slowly, wearing subdued colors and offering Marlboro's? What the Hell. Worth a shot. A try.. worth a try!

Wednesday, April 4, 2012


Shady Greg, in a pathetic attempt to make something of his life, has begun voting for himself on Dancing with the Stars. It may have dawned on some of you that Shady Greg is not a star, is not a has been, is not even a might have been. Shady is not on DWT-FUCKING-S because Shady is a never gonna be. Shady was on stage once in his life. He was nine. He played a tree. The tree did not move. The tree did not speak. The tree just stood there. More accurately, the tree was just supposed to stand there. The tree moved. The tree moved to the front of the stage. The tree peed its trunk. Everyone laughed. After 17 years of fruitless therapy Shady has changed that humiliating childhood memory to a positive. He now remembers that moment fondly. He now tells the story as if he was supposed to pee his bark. He says it was to demonstrate the need for watering your lawn. There wasn't even supposed to be a tree in the stupid play since it was called "Me and my body". Shady simply could not remember his line for being an amino acid. His line was "I am a amino acid. I am important to digestion." To stupid to remember that, and with the school rule that all children must have a part in the play, the teacher made Greg a tree. He made himself a self watering tree. Now Shady sits at home, in the dark, rubber gloves and lotion on the table beside him, and watches DWTS. He pretends Edyta Slavinski is his partner (She is no longer on the show. So Shady gets to design her outfits. In his mind.). Shady and Edyta dance and dance and then they make love. Len gives them a five. Carrie Ann, however, gives them a ten. Bruno masturbates. Greg and Carrie Ann make love. Then Greg and Len have make up sex. Len criticizes Greg for poor posture but scores it a seven (one point having been deducted for "too short a routine"). Then Greg gets online ands votes for himself. He votes for himself roughly a hundred times a night. Basically, just emailing the DWTS website hoping against hope that a producer from the show will call him and say "Due to overwhelming demand we must have you on the show". Then Greg watches the nightly news, and strangely, he votes for himself.


Gay John, the pathetic putrid poppet of pansy personification, has hammered heavily, hitting hip level at my wallet. The former Mr. Nice Guy has turned evil. With no sense of humor, Gay John decided to do a return of a $170 battery charger against me. Why? So that I would lose my commission! Even more dastardly is the FACT that this was an even exchange. That means had it all been done under my sales number I would lose nothing. John did it under his number in an attempt to steal money. However, because Gay John has the mental capacity of a hamster he didn't realize two important things : 1.) I am too smart to be had by a smiling swindler smarmily schmoozing suckers who's supposedly shooting straightforward so he successfully sinks sweeties suckered by shit-talking smoothies singing sour sap. 2.) He does not make commission! Stealing from me is merely spiteful.
OK sorry. He had an excuse. He pleaded stupidity to me and I believe him. So Ignore above post.

Friday, March 30, 2012


Jovial John, the upbeat mongoloid manager, has asked yours truly to please make some corrections to erroneous information that he feels has portrayed him unfairly on this very website. Being forthright, honest, and proud of the integrity of this blog, I immediately agreed to clear up any misconceptions I may have placed in the minds of my readers. First, John has asked that I clear the air on his "jovialness". He feels the word jovial is not accurate. Gay would be a better word. Not in the homosexual way but in the Fred Flinstone (who he resembles) gay old time way. So in keeping with this request I shall only refer to him as Gay John from here on out (except for the rare occasions when Cocksucker would work better). Secondly, Gay John does not feel he looks like he has Downes Syndrome. Perhaps that was a poor descriptive choice on my part. As noted, he does resemble Fred Flinstone but only slightly. GJ (Gay John) looks more like 1/4 Yogi Berra mixed with Fred Flinstones' face on Yogi Bears ass with a dash of Pillsbury Dough Boy spliced with the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man swirled with the old school charm of the banjo player form Deliverance and Will Ferrels chin. Hopefully, this is a much better, more accurate, and on target description of Gay John than was previously provided. Thirdly, Gay John felt insulted when I wrote that the tuba section is where band sends anyone to stupid for kazoo. Apparently, most marching bands do not actually utilize kazoo players and even if they did they would not, automatically, be considered any smarter than the average tuba player. In fact, many marching band tuba players grow up and become useful members of society (please do not ask for examples as I have none. Though the law of averages dictates that there must be one). Fourthly, Gay John wants it known by all that he is in a wonderful, loving relationship with an extraordinary woman who loves him mind, body and soul. For those of you who think I am about to make a snarky comment on what kind of woman would love the Gay One you are wrong. I firmly believe John is deserving of a fantastic relationship with a loving, good hearted woman and I am ecstatic that he feels he has found one. I am also positive that in 16 years when she makes parole they will be forever happy together.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012


The Shady One, well known for being a big time pussy, sunk even lower on the flaming pussy meter landing just beneath "the Donald Duck dressed Elton John ".For what, you may ask. Allow me to enlighten you. The Shady One ( now also known as the pussy who gets ass banged by girls ) decided to ONCE AGAIN call off from work. This time, because he couldn't bring himself to missing even one minute of the Dancing with the Stars results show; told his employers that he had sniffles. The fucking Snufalupagus gets sniffles. Real men get gunshot wounds or some other sort of manly disease or something. Not the fucking sniffles! And not because of Dancing with the fucking wannabe stars! Besides, it's no secret Martina Navratilova is getting bumped tonight. Pussy!

Saturday, March 24, 2012

HIGH SCHOOL HI JINKS OF JOVIAL AND SHADY (band fags is unacceptable, derogatory and hurtful)

Due to popular demand, it is time to reveal the back story of how Shady Greg and Jovial John became such firm friends. It turns out they went to high school together. Which is really scary considering Greg is 23 years older than John (Gregs' mother held him back until he was emotionally and physically ready). Way back in those golden years of long ago at that early stage of life neither Shady Greg nor Jovial John were known by those nicknames. No. Shady was called Ol' Lonely and Jovial was referred to as Bubble (short for Bubble boy. Not because he lived in a bubble, but because people wished he did). Did Shady deserve to be called Ol' Lonely? Yes. Greg had no friends. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Gregs' mother even tried the trick of tying a pork chop around his neck just to get the dog to play with him and the dog turned vegetarian. So anyway it was inevitable that Bubble and Lonely would find each other and develop a friendship. Lonely was old enough to buy beer (which they talked about but never tried) and Bubble told jokes. At least he and Lonely thought they were jokes (what did one banana say to the other banana? Hey, your yellow). Boy how the two of them would laugh. "It's like no gets the fact that bananas really are yellow". Not real surprising they had no other friends is it? The two of them did everything together, ate lunch together, got beat up together; even formed a circle jerk together. Although that did not last long as Lonely had weak wrists and Dungeons and Dragons porn is hard to find anyway. Like all young lads they were curious, wanting to find their place in the world. They harbored secret dreams and aspirations. Lonely hoped to someday captain the field hockey team (he never did. Lil' Becky Boonce captained and lettered all four years) while Bubble dreamed of becoming The Drum Major. Two things stood in Bubbles' way to making Drum Major : 1). Bubble was a tuba player. The tuba section is where band sticks you if you're too stupid for kazoo. 2). Bubble played drums using his face. Wonderful for a Late Night stupid human trick, terrible for an actual Drum Major. Also, not to be mean but Bubble doing high kicks while spinning a baton was about as likely as Brian Hunt winning a slam dunk contest. OK I guess that was a little mean. If only because Brian jumps as well as Bubble looks. Anyhow, Lonely was in band as well. Lonely was a clarinet player. A kind of scary coincidence : At this time in pop culture Mr. T was at the height of his fame and lonely referred to all things clarinet as "licking the licorice stick". Make of that what you will. For anyone interested Bubble referred to all things tuba as "blowing wind with my Fart Partner". This brings us to the end of part one of this story. Part two will appear in the near future if there is a call for it. Please leave a comment in the comment section if you enjoyed part one.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012


I was in no way , in my previous post, making fun of Downes Syndrome. Nor was I making fun of anyone with Downes Syndrome. I was, however, making fun of an unfortunate soul who sorta looks Downes Syndrome-ish. Which is really fucking funny. So stop with the hate mail and calling for my head and appreciate the predicament of Jovial John.  Poor Smiley Boy (J.J.) (Jovial freakin' John DUMB ASS!) can be standing on a street corner just waiting for the light to change when people begin tossing quarters into a hat for him (even supplying the hat!). John is of reasonable intelligence yet people still feel more comfortable talking to him if they have sock puppets and a colored chalk board. He rarely notices this sort of treatment and just blindly walks through life with a giant smile plastered on his un-evenly semi-shaved "face". The only time I ever felt bad for him, even stopped laughing at him for a day, was when he found out about his girlfriend. Jovial John had been in what he thought was a deep and committed relationship with a girl far too pretty for his face,build and station in life. They spent a tremendous amount of time together over the course of a year having deep and deeply personal conversations. John said more than once he could really talk to this wonderful and sympathetic young lady. Then one day she just stopped coming around. John was devastated. Three weeks went by when I ran into her at a 7/11. I began to chew her out for just dumping Smiley. She smiled weakly and handed me her business card. Turns out she was just doing Pro Bono counseling for a hospital while researching the "Reality Oblivious". Poor Jovial, he is now famous to the New England Journal of Medicine crowd and doesn't even know it. So I am sorry for making fun of him, but I told you he was fucking funny.


Shady Greg, the shadiest shiteater shopping schlock today has topped himself for shady shit. The Gregster (his latest self nickname) was scheduled to close at work but he had the opportunity to scam seniors out of  their pension funds with his best friend (BoBo the Wonder Dog - as seen on Miracle Network Television) and immediately began scheming on how to leave work early. He first told management that his glands were over active. That merely grossed people out and he was told to schedule a doctors appointment A.S.A.P. So the Shady One went back to the drawing board and came up with (after much deliberation. no one ever suggested extreme intelligence on his part) that he was suffering from sore feet. Yes, at a job where everyone is on their feet all day, The Gregger (another self nickname. he's troubled) decided he should be sent home early because of sore feet. An appliance salesmen complaining of sore feet is akin to a bus driver complaining of a sore ass. It comes with the territory. But not for Shady Greg. No! No! Shady thinks his creepy callused fungus infested feet are somehow special. Actually, he thinks his feet are special because he has webbed toes. Only every other toe is webbed which is really odd. Also the second toe on each foot is ridiculously long giving Greg the ability to hang upside down. Freaky! Not "special".  Freaky! Anyhow, Shadys' management buddy, the Downes Syndrome looking but not having, Jovial John sent him home. I was pissed.

Friday, March 16, 2012


Here at Kitchens and More the top brass are into saving money. One way they do this is by fucking over all store employees. It is 72 degrees outside and 83 degrees inside! 83 and really humid. Really fucking humid! My balls, thanks to our outdated play list and no cooling system, are sweating to the oldies. My balls should not be losing weight at work when they aren't working and then head home only to be put to work and not losing weight due to dehydration and they have to quit working. At my age I want them working when needed and getting plenty of rest when not working so that they never stop working. You follow? Anyhow, all I want right now is a cooler work environment. I have no customers so I am not really working here at work but my balls are working up a sweat even though they aren't being put to work. Fuck!

Tuesday, March 13, 2012


Things can get kind of slow here in the appliance department at Kitchens and More. Sometimes too slow. For instance, just the other day somebodys' wife baked up a giant tray of cheesecake and told her husband to bring it in to his cronies at work. He did. We were all grateful and enjoyed the camaraderie of sharing the cheesecake and trading stories. It helped break up an otherwise slow day;. but as is common in life, all good things come to pass. We got down to the last piece of cheesecake and their was a bit of discussion as to who actually deserved the last piece. Sam felt it should be his for being the high salesman for the day. Sweet Ruby thought it should be hers for being the only woman. Adam thought it should be his for being the tallest. Tom thought it should be his for being the roundest. All semi-valid reasons for a bunch of bored, non thinking zombies waiting for the day to end. I suggested we draw straws, short straw wins. All agreed and the drawing of the straws commenced. Jimmie won. When Jimmie went to claim his prize I noticed a deranged grin on the weak chin of Shady Greg. A split second before the last slice of cheesecake hit Jimmies palate Ruby screamed "OMYGAWD! A SHORT AND CURLIE!". Jimmie threw the cheesecake back in the tray and barely kept from barfing. We all disgustedly stared at the contaminated slice. Jimmie stated the obvious. "Man, that's FUCKED up!" he said. Adam said he had looked at every piece earlier, to choose the best, and that none of them had pubic hairs upon the surface. So the question was, who would be sick minded enough to plant a pubic hair on community cake simply to guarantee the last slice for themselves? The only answer agreed by all was, of course, Shady Greg. When confronted with this hypothesis the Shady one smirked like a pooh flinging chimpanzee and said "Yes I put my ball warmer on the cake! I also made the gatorade but due to my high blood sugar no one noticed!". We all threw up and then kicked Greg in the sack house.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012


Shady Greg, who has set a store record for the longest close, has been sentenced to watch this video clip 5 times a day for the next six months. Anybody else need help learning A.B.C.?

Tuesday, March 6, 2012


Shady Greg has skipped town! This joyous statement made thousands of Townies smile and pop open the champagne. Unfortunately, we came to find out we were free of Greg for a limited time only. Shady Greg was supposed to work on Tuesday. He decided to stay home and file his toes. The last second replacement for Shady at work was a brownish little troll with a speech impediment. I had to work on Tuesday as well. I, of course, showed up for work and was greeted with what sounded like a helium balloon farting. Apparently, that is the sound brownish trolls make when greeting. I have never been a fan of Shady Greg and his slimy ways, however, brownish trolls are disgusting and annoying. I was stuck with the worse of two Evils. The brownish troll spent most of the afternoon perched on a Maytag sniffing his fingers except when a human came within ten yards. Then the mud lover would screech "BEBACK! BEBACK! Mine! Mine!" and leap from his perch flapping its spindly arm type things while wailing for "Man-ger apruvole" or something. During a long stretch of inaction I stupidly asked the brownish troll where Greg was. The troll took one long last sniff of a rectum coated finger and said "Shady gone gone Shady eess". A deranged passerby overheard this and took it to mean that Shady Greg had skipped town. That rumour caused the impromptu parade down Main street. For that I am sorry but if the Shady One would only show up for work when he is supposed to we wouldn't have brownish little trolls spreading rumours to begin with.

Monday, February 20, 2012


Local authorities were called to the alley way behind the residence of one Greg Hrgrwqzxcvbhgrryp, also known as Shady Greg, age 54, on Friday evening for creating a disturbance. Mr Hrgrwtrqxzxfgr was apparently shadow fencing, with imaginary shadows no less, while wearing nothing more than a child's plastic Viking helmet and a ratty pair of Sponge Bob boxers. Mr hjjjjrtlllrrrg told the policemen he was not intoxicated and was merely practicing for the upcoming Geeks Convention held annually in Freddy Knuts basement. While it was true Mr hrgggdfrwqty wasn't drunk, he was noticebly aggitated ,feverishly licking his lips,bouncing on his feet, and saying Buddy Boy repeatedly for no apparent reason. It was later discovered Mr hrgrgrgrfzxczxrr had swallowed 17 packets of PEZ and was in the throws of a severe sugar rush. Mr hggrrgggrwwqwqzxztrgh was taken to Mercy Mercy Emergency to be held over night for observation.

Saturday, February 11, 2012


Assholes. The world is not only filled with assholes but their numbers grow every day. You have asshole parents raising asshole kids who go and visit asshole grandparents on the weekends. We are surrounded by ASSHOLES! I fuckin' hate assholes but I love this bit. Thank God for Mel Brooks!

Waiting On A Friend

A great freaking song and a funny entertaining video. Watch Keith walk or sling on his guitar. Big smile! Smoke that cigarette KEEF and watch out for the funky blond dude in the window. Bill and Charlie are barely acknowledged but don't seem to mind. Long Live THE STONES!

Friday, February 10, 2012


It is 10 minutes passed closing time and still STUPID FUCKS linger. Why? Just leave. Come back tomorrow if you wish. Now, though, is the time to JUST FUCKING LEAVE!

Sunday, February 5, 2012


I know my blog is very popular in Russia, the Mother Country, and I am thrilled. I am seriously considering the generous offer to visit Moscow along with the speaking gigs (you flatter me!). My question though is how come none of you join the site? It only takes a second. And please comment on the posts I relish your feedback. The KGB is dead . So speak freely. God bless you all. And thank you for the bread. It was delicious.

Thursday, February 2, 2012


Well kiddies I am writing to you from under a cabinet in the back stockroom because my last post sent Evil Greg on a fucking rampage. I thought I had seen true anger before. I was wrong. No one has seen real true anger until they have looked into the face of Evil itself. That face belongs to Greg. Evil Greg. Evil Angry Greg.  That is the face of Evil that even the Devil himself flees from. I did not intend on bringing Evil Angry Greg at me. You see, Greg is basically a computer illiterate, so I figured I was safe from him ever finding my blog. Hell, Greg is basically only focused on three things: 1. Ripping off customers 2.Ripping off all others 3.Breaking every diet his poor sweet wife gives him. That's it really. So why would I ever worry about him stumbling across my blog? I wouldn't. What I did not count on was sweet little curious Ruby stumbling across my blog and reading it to him (Yes reading it to him. Greg is basically just illiterate across the board). I was standing out of sight around the corner when Ruby grabbed her high chair and sat in front of the computer. She innocently typed "vshudgqsidbkbi" because dear Ruby can't spell for shit (I think she was actually looking for some sort of goat recipe) and she somehow pulled up my blog. I remember hearing "GLEG GLEG look here  what I find when I type Gleg what it mean you is sheet kisser? (Dear Ruby pronounces shit sheet). Greg sort of walked over to the computer (I say sort of because he is not the most coordinated fellow around. Like Elvis is no longer the most lively). Anyhow, as dear Ruby read to Gleg I mean Greg his pallid white face began to turn crimson, his permanently arched eyebrows twitched like bunny tails (they are that fluffy) and his long pointy black fingernails dug into his palms like demonic little knives. Yes, Shady Greg was turning into Evil Angry Greg. Not a pretty sight (nothing involving Greg ever is. Seriously. You should see the dude chew gum. His mouth gets going like a never been laid house dog humping a strangers leg. Gross.). Anyhow, Greg turned and looked at me and said " Jimmy you wicked witlle weasle you weally weally wonged me. Wight your wong owr else!". I couldn't help but smile and say Greg you're difficult to understand with all that dick in your mouth (I'm not homophobic, just childish). Greg got even more pissed, grabbed a scythe he keeps in the coatroom and began chasing me. I ditched him in electronics (the energiser bunny was on. He always has to stop and watch.) and took up my hiding place under the cabinet.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Greg reaches new high in being LOW!

Just when you thought Shady Greg could get no lower than the dungeon depths of sewer-y shit shoveling suck-y-ness he has inhabited for the past two decades of slithering snake-y-ness; he sinks even lower! Not only has the Shady One freely flat out admitted to enjoying his backstabbing. He has sunk to the despicable depths of selling in electronics, paint, tools and amazingly enough for a diet breaking cookie crunching jiggling jug of junk food, but has even sold in fitness. Greg will sell in any commission department never minding lack of knowledge (which has never stopped him in his own department!). No qualms in saying anything, no matter how shifty, simply to make a sale. When Shady Greg holed up in the fitness department, ringing up other peoples hard earned sales for himself, he began eating a chewy chocolaty carmel-y crunchy crumbling Costco cookie congratulating customers cockily for being lovable lards of lonely laziness. This from the man who made the Guinness Book for owning the most pasty blindingly white whale of a stomach outside of Ireland's biggest albino booze hound!

Friday, January 27, 2012


   Zerks did not enjoy making love to his robot. Don't misunderstand, the robot was a great robot, just not a great lover. It lubed up nicely but that was about it. He hated the fact that the robot faked EVERY orgasm, not just once in a while. He hated the fact that the robot was not one of those sleek new models. Zerks  robot was rather rotund around the middle and clanked all about the place. He hated that the robot was constantly beeping with stupid little lights flashing. Zerks never found beeping little lights romantic in the least. He hated that he and the robot did not have much in common other than they both loved computers. To be clear, Zerks loved having a computer, the robot was literally in love with a computer ( the robot had even snuck away with a computer for a private weekend later telling Zerks the computer meant nothing to him.) But the biggest problem, by far, was that the robot would not even try Zerks homemade lasagna. That was simply too insulting. Like motor oil could ever beat homemade lasgna.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Willard conjures the courage to order a pizza (almost)

Willard is 5' 7" 178 pounds with a clamish complexion and high forehead. He wears small black walking shoes with his pale khakis . His tan Polo's are always pressed and the graying ring of hair that wraps from one large ear to another is rarely combed but always short. Willard fears change the way Bigfoot fears credible witnesses. His routine is set in stone and it NEVER varies. Every single night Willard eats either a chicken or a beef Spartan pot pie for dinner with a glass of 2% milk that was poured exactly 20 minutes before it it can be touched so that is does not freeze his throat on the way down. Willard is exceptionally single.
   One extraordinary Tuesday Willard woke up with a feeling of bravado that he had never experienced before. He showered that morning with extra vigor even keeping his eyes open when he soaped the forbidden area and did not grind his teeth at all. He actually strolled to work, thinking to himself " Holy Tipping Cow! I am actually, factually strolling! Hot Diggity Deputy Dawg!". Had Willard's day ended there it would have all ready been one for the history books. End it did not. No! Willard's day of awesomeness continued along with one thrilling accomplishment after another until Willard was giddy with unknown self confidence. He did his noon crossword in pen.
   As Willard walked home ( strolling at this point would only be showing off ) he thought about the drawer in the credenza. He hated even being near the drawer because he'd swear he could feel it's contents mocking him. Daring him. Taunting him. Willard felt that this night all that would change. Willard felt that this extraordinary day could only be capped by an extraordinary night. That meant tonight Willard would boldly stroll (Yes Stroll!) up to the feared drawer in his creepy credenza and face the contents without fear. Well some fear but still he'd face up to it!
   Willard did stroll up to his feared credenza drawer. Willard did retrieve it's contents with a trembling hand and a very small butterfly (more a sick moth than anything) in his stomach. For you see what the drawer contained was an old and wrinkled take out/delivery menu from Tony the Wops Dago Dungeon and Pizza Parlor (name brand suits sold at 70% off in back). Willard took the menu to his favorite old brown La-Z-Boy and sat slowly, taking deep breaths to calm himself and mentally prepared to open the menu. All of a sudden, with a sweeping motion and extra flourish, Willard opened the mocking menu! PEPPERONI! SAUSAGE! HAM! BACON! MUSHROOMS! ONIONS! PEPPERS! On and on toppings charged at Willards' eyes as crust choice after crust choice hammered his sloth like brain- THIN CRUST! SICCILLIAN! REGULAR! ROUND! SQUARE! FOUR CORNER! Willard slammed the menu on his circular end table, closed his eyes, and thought about prime numbers until his pulse returned to normal.

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