Tuesday, May 31, 2011

     the pain in my
     throat
     means there is
     something wrong
     with my
     heart




















Longing

     in the sky
     a bird.
     on the ground
     me.















Saturday, May 28, 2011

You know what they say about men with big feet . . .

That they wear big shoes. LOL. Just check this guy out.


His name's Peter Iroga, an Australian man who has big dreams of playing in the NBA, and who has recently been awarded a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the largest shoe size. Can you believe it? He wears a size 26. Which means if he ever learns Karate, he could really kick your face in.

Okay, okay. Now I know what you're thinking. And you're totally right. Giving this guy a foot massage would totally suck! Not to mention disable every bone in your fingers. Whaat? That's not what you were thinking? Oh, you were thinking THAT. Well, don't look at me. Because I wouldn't even know how to write something about that. :)

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

My shortest poem, called "The Itch"

    
     out there
     is
     adventure . . .
     I am
     going.











The man who would be a balloon


Okay. This is weird. I just read that this guy (pictured above), who is a NZ trucker, blew up like a balloon when he fell onto a compressed air hose that (get this) pierced his asscheek and blew air into his body (well, the article says "forced" air into his body). Can you believe it? LOL. I'm not making this shit up either. It was on Yahoo news. So it must be true. (It's like telly. Of course everything on it is real). Anyway, the guy said he slipped and fell onto the dang thing, and, as he said to a local reporter, "I had no choice but just to lay there, blowing up like a balloon." Excuse me? You had no choice but to just lay there, blowing up like a balloon? How come you didn't pull the freaking thing out of your asscheek? #justsaying

He's goes on to say that he was "blowing up like a football."

I wonder if he was talking about a pigskin football or a soccer ball?

Luckily, his friends heard his screams (was it from pain or ecstasy?) and stopped the air flow. Then took him to the hospital, where he was treated for — wait for it — terrible swelling of the colon. Well, actually the article doesn't mention the phrase "of the colon." I just thought it would make for a better read. :)

Monday, May 23, 2011

Interview with Eastern Eye Newspaper of London

Just click on the down arrow next to the Menu button below to view in another window. Or click the diagonal arrow to make full screen.


Saturday, May 21, 2011

A Poem: The Birdbath


Two birds were in a birdbath, singing sweet songs to the heavens, while a cat watched from a nearby window.

The sun was out and the blue sky hung low like an umbrella over the earth and its inhabitants.

And I didn’t move.

The wind blew and the birds flew away and the cat retreated to wherever it is that cats retreat to.

And I let out a sigh and thought of you.

Was it yesterday that we met at the college at your desk, when I looked at you and you looked at me and we smiled and said the words “Hello?”

Was it yesterday that we were married in the living room, when we signed the marriage contract and I looked at you and you looked at me and we said the words “Forever?”

Was it yesterday that our baby boy was born in the hospital, when we held the little guy in our hands and wondered what he’d be like when he grew and I looked at you and you looked at me and we said the words “We’re a family?”

Was it yesterday that you and the little guy walked outta my life at the airport terminal, when you walked up to the security guards and handed over your boarding papers and walked to that little tram they got there that takes you to the next station and got on, leaving me teary-eyed and numb struck, with a hollow empty pain in my chest and a tightening choking sensation in my throat, and I looked at you but you didn’t look at me because you were already on that little tram thing and I said the words “I love you. More than anything in the whole wide world. I love you. Even more than my own jugular,” but you didn’t hear me?

Was it yesterday that we were reunited, when that horrible numb feeling went away (but not the tears) and I grabbed you and you grabbed me and I stared into your eyes forever and you stared into mine a million times more and I kissed you and you kissed me and we said the words “It feels good to be together?”

Was it today that the birds came back to the birdbath, when the cat came back to the window and the sun came out (but not the wind) and the sky stayed blue like an umbrella over our head tops and I didn’t move cuz you were holding onto my hand?

Was it tomorrow that we sat on the patio, when we looked into each other’s eyes, saying nothing, as there was nothing more to be said, because we were just remembering the good times that we shared together during our lifetime and wondering where the heck all the time had gone to so fast in such a hurry and not believing how quick everything passed by in our lives faster than a flash of lightning or an eye blink, yet we were happy that we had made it so long together, that we were still friends, BEST FRIENDS, till the end of time, till we closed our eyes and went to sleep?

Was it a 100 years from now that our descendants looked through our old photographs and said, “Look at our ancestors, how hot they were; I wish we could have known them,” and were proud to say they were Bengali?

(C) copyright L.A. Sherman 2009.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Coming in second



So this guy goes to his girlfriend's house (It's actually his 'friends with benefits' partner's house), pulls out a handful of condoms, and says, "Which color would you like tonight, baby?"

"Silver," she says without hesitation.

"How come silver?" he asks. "I'd of thought you'd wanted gold."

"I would have," she says. "But for tonight I'd like you to come in second."


Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Losing weight has never been so easy


Meet Mr. I Beat Anorexia Man. He’s this really fat guy who wants to lose a few pounds, but no matter what he tries, he can not lose any weight. EVER. But as he sits reading the newspaper this day, he sees an ad that says, “LOSE AS MUCH WEIGHT AS YOU WANT FOR ONLY A DOLLAR AN HOUR.” So he gets all excited and calls the number from the ad and tells them he wants to lose ten pounds.


“Sure, sir,” the customer rep on the other end of the line says to the receiver. “We'll send a representative over to your house tomorrow morning.”

The next morning the door bell rings and Mr. I Beat Anorexia Man opens the door and sees this really hot blonde there with a sign on her chest that says, "If you catch me, you can have sex with me." So he goes to grab her, but she runs away, and his only option is to chase her. When he catches her, he has sex with her, and when she leaves, he goes home to find that he’s now ten pounds lighter. Elated over his sudden fat loss, he decides to call the number and tell them he wants to lose twenty.


“No problem, sir,” says the customer service rep to the receiver. “Someone from our office will be there tomorrow morning.”

The next morning same thing. He chases the hot blonde who comes to the door, catches her and has sex with her and, in the processes, loses twenty more pounds. “Well, I’ll be a Goddamned son-of-a-bitch,” he says at his own luck, deciding that he’ll call the number and tell them he wants to lose thirty. 


“Absolutely,” says the customer service rep to Mr. I Beat Anorexia Man during their phone conversation. “I’ll have someone at your house first thing tomorrow morning.”


“No, wait,” says Mr. I Beat Anorexia Man to the customer service rep, re-thinking his situation. “I think I want to lose fifty.”

“Are you sure? That’s way too much. No one in their right mind can lose—”

“Hell yeah, I’m sure,” says Mr. I Beat Anorexia Man.

“Okay,” says the customer services rep with a smile. “I’ll send someone over in the morning.”

The next morning Mr. I Beat Anorexia Man, who is all excited about losing more weight and screwing a hot chick, jumps out of bed at the doorbell, answers the door with a hard-on, and finds himself in front of a gorilla, who has a sign on its chest that says, “If I catch you, I’ll fuck the shit out of you.”

  



Tuesday, May 10, 2011

My morning cupper


Me at my dad's place in the UK, sitting down for my morning cupper.

Monday, May 9, 2011

The car bed made me do it


For the past few days I've been looking for a car bed for my son. But instead of going to the store, I went to Craigslist. Yep, that's right. Craigslist. And I found the perfect bed, too. So what did I do? I answered the ad by sending out an email. Below is the exchange, which began on Sunday morning, or Mother's day:

Me, at eleven-something in the morning:

Would you kindly let me know if this includes the mattress and box spring? Please feel free to call me @ 813-xxx-xxxx.

P.S. What condition is it in and how old is it?

Thanks

Him, about 3 hours later:

Why you don't answer?? Are you scammer? Leave me real number.

Me:

Sorry. I didn’t have my cell phone with me, as we went out for Mother’s day. And please do not go around calling people scammer just because they are unable to answer their phones. 

Thank you.

Him:

Well, why you email me to tell me to call you and give me number that you can't answer? Tell me when your phone be with you and if you are real person and in need of this car bed, I can bring to you. Sorry if you are not scammer that I think that you are. It looks like you are. I hope that I’m really wrong and you are real person that need a bed for his kids.

Thank you.

Me:

You know what? FUCK YOU. You SOB. I don't need your stupid dumb car bed. Come to think of it, it’s probably a piece of shit anyway. Who the fuck are you to go and judge people and call them a scammer just because they are unable to answer their phone, which you only rang twice back to back on Mother’s day when I was out and forgot to take my phone with me? That is why I emailed you immediately when I got back home because you never gave me a number to get in touch with you. SO GO AND SHOVE THAT CAR BED UP YOUR ASS. Obviously it’s a piece of shit. That’s why you’re so damn desperate to get rid of it and going around calling people scammer when they don't respond straightaway.

Good Luck. BITCH.

Stay tuned for the conclusion, if there is one.



The nerve of some people


Can you believe it? Yes, it's true. Julie Schenecker, the New Tampa woman accused of murdering her two teenage children in cold blood, has demanded alimony from her soon-to-be ex-husband (And to think, she only lived about 20 minutes away from me). I really don't know what else to say other than if you look up "thieving bitch" in the dictionary, you’ll be sure to see her name and picture and social security number and everything else about her.

Check out the news story: Julie Shenecker, accused murderer, seeks alimony from husband.


Saturday, May 7, 2011

Shoo fly, don't bother me


Are you kidding me? All day long I've been trying to catch this freaking shit. But it's fast as hell, I tell ya. Every time I go to whack him, he takes off buzzing his way to ceiling, where my tiny little 4-foot-something frame doesn't stand a chance to get him without the use of a tall ladder. Well, you know what? I don't care. Cuz you know why? He has to come down sometime. And when he does, I'll be waiting. :)


My husband and his eggs, or rather his brains


This morning I asked my hubby if he wanted eggs for breakfast.
“Sure,” he told me.
In the kitchen I took out the frying pan, the eggs and the butter, and turned the stove on.
“What are you doing?” he asked me.
“What’s it look like I’m doing?” I told him. “You wanted eggs, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but I’m running late.”
“So . . . what does that mean, huh? You don’t want eggs now?”
“I do,” he said, “but can’t you cook ’em in the microwave or something? It’ll be faster.”
He grabbed his coffee and work things.
I laughed at him. “Why don’t you just take two eggs and hold ’em out the window on your way to work and pray that the sun cooks ’em for you?”
He walked to where the eggs were. “What if I took three?”



Thursday, May 5, 2011

Strike while the iron is hot

This morning, while I was putting on my makeup, my hubby asked me, "Where's the iron, babe?"

"Why?" I asked him.

"Because my pants are wrinkly,” he said. "And I have a meeting today. The big shots are gonna be there, and I have to look neat."

"On top of the dryer," I told him.

After a few minutes, I heard him in the other room, looking for the iron. Then him setting up the ironing board, the legs of it making squeak. Then, after a few more minutes, a scream.

"What's wrong?" I said, running to the other room. "What's going on?" I saw him holding his thigh and the iron was on the ground.

"What's wrong with your leg?" I asked him.

"What does it look like is wrong with my leg?" he told me. "It got burned."

"With what?" I asked him.

"The iron."

“Weren’t you using the ironing board?”

He shook his head.

“I ran out of time,” he told me.

“So what were you using, then?”

“Nothing,” he said.

"Nothing?” I asked him. “Don’t tell me you were ironing your pants while they were still on your body," I commented, and when he didn’t answer, I assumed it was true. J



The librarian


Today I went to the library and walked up to the circulation desk and asked the handsome looking librarian on the other side of the counter if he could help me find something.

"Of course," he said. "What are you looking for?"

"Large-type audio books," I said, and smiled, though not letting on I was playing a trick.

"Okay," he said, and went to work on the computer, frantically searching for my items, until, after about a minute or so, he looked up and said, "Large-type audio books?"

I guess he finally got the joke. :)

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

The search is on

For some strange reason I got this crazy idea the other day to get a personal trainer. I saw an ad at the gym and decided to give it a go. Here's the ad:

                          ______________________
                                   Jaime Stevenson
                                    PERSONAL TRAINER
                                            MI# 13868
                         _______________________
                         PHONE NUMBER : 813 216 9869

(Note: The name and number of the above trainer has been changed in order to protect his privacy). 

Here's the exchange we had via email, with my thoughts in parenthesis:

Me:

I would like to take some personal training classes, especially the offer you have for $200 a month. Just need a little more information as far as how this would work. I live in Tampa. Do you have your own gym, or would you come to my place, or do we meet somewhere? I usually go to the YMCA for the girlie aerobic classes. Thanks.

Him:

All right, thanks for contacting me. I can go to your place, or a clubhouse close to your house, and also we can train in a park close to you. What time are you planning to work out? I will be more than glad to help you achieve your fitness goals, I got all the equipment we need to give you the best workout and you will see the results really fast cause I will help you with your nutrition and of course with the motivation. Let's set up a meeting asap and I'll show you what I can do for you and you can tell me more about yourself. Have a wonderful day. (Okay, he sounds pretty nice.)

Me:

That was very quick reply. Well, we can work out @ my place on certain days of the week, as I do have kids that I will need to get rid of. On the weekends it should not be a problem @ all, and during the week I can do evenings after 6:30 pm when the hubby gets home. I can do every Wednesday morning before 10 am. I can also go to the club house. Whichever works for you. Just let me know when you would like to meet up. Thanks.



Ok, what time can you meet today cuz tomorrow I could be there between 1 and 3. And also, I think we should workout 3 days a week. Please tell me what days of the week you'd prefer to workout with me?
Him:

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Me:

Unfortunately I can’t do today or tomorrow, as I have plans. I can meet with you Wednesday morning before 10am. On a regular base I can work out with you any morning before 8:30 am, if that's not too early for you. Otherwise, Wednesday morning before 10 am or any weekdays after 6:30 pm. Let me know. Thanks.

Him:

Ok, I can do Wednesday to meet. And can u do 6 am to work out?

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Me:

Wednesday to meet is fine. What time are you looking at? 6 am is fine @ my place. (At my place? What was I thinking?)

Him:

Ok, Thanks. I'll see you at 10 am on Wednesday.

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Me:

10 am is fine on Wednesday.

Him:

Perfect! Let me know where you are and I will see you on Wednesday. (He wants to know where I am.)

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Him again:

My phone number is: 813 216 9869. Please call me. (All of a sudden I feel creepy.)

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Me after thinking things over, especially the part where he comes to my house:

Hi Jaime, I am sorry, but I will need to cancel for now as something personal has come up. However, once everything has cleared up, I will get in touch with you in the future. I will definitely keep your information. Thank you so much. (This is where I say, "Yeah, right!")