Josh Stern's Blog, page 180

DUDE! Yeah, I said dude, like your my best bro, you know, I'd love to send you some stuff I wrote for my 1/2 finished (Iknow, like the guy in the bar who says"Is that my beer or yours") book, I write about all things absurd, and totally agree with your ho

you have great energy..

DUDE! Yeah, I said dude, like your my best bro, you know, I'd love to send you some stuff I wrote for my 1/2 finished (Iknow, like the guy in the bar who says"Is that my beer or yours") book, I write about all things absurd, and totally agree with your ho

you have great energy..

DUDE! Yeah, I said dude, like your my best bro, you know, I'd love to send you some stuff I wrote for my 1/2 finished (Iknow, like the guy in the bar who says"Is that my beer or yours") book, I write about all things absurd, and totally agree with your ho

you have great energy..

DUDE! Yeah, I said dude, like your my best bro, you know, I'd love to send you some stuff I wrote for my 1/2 finished (Iknow, like the guy in the bar who says"Is that my beer or yours") book, I write about all things absurd, and totally agree with your ho

you have great energy..

DUDE! Yeah, I said dude, like your my best bro, you know, I'd love to send you some stuff I wrote for my 1/2 finished (Iknow, like the guy in the bar who says"Is that my beer or yours") book, I write about all things absurd, and totally agree with your ho

you have great energy..

DUDE! Yeah, I said dude, like your my best bro, you know, I'd love to send you some stuff I wrote for my 1/2 finished (Iknow, like the guy in the bar who says"Is that my beer or yours") book, I write about all things absurd, and totally agree with your ho

you have great energy..

you have nude pix?

before or after the transgender assignment?

Eskimo Grandparents ice floe picnic

I’m sure Eskimo Grandparents sent off to die on ice floes by their children, are like mysterious Delivery Fried Chicken to Polar Bears…Checking your brain at the door, only makes sense if you keep the coat room stub

Being an inveterate student of the lie, I think if it ever became an Olympic event, a Liar should be judged in three different disciplines: The Fabrication- The Execution- and the most compelling: - The Denial- and of course it would have to be separated as to sex; for this is one of the few rare instances where the Female has a natural unfair advantage over the Male. Most think The forgiving nature of Woman is completely dependent upon the lying nature of Man….but Chicks always seem to be ahead of their time and all I’m doing is playing catch up..

A gentleman never strikes a lady while the iron’s hot- whereas a Chick will go apeshit on a guy without compunction

As stated my favorite event would be the denial, as lying in the face of compelling evidence to the contrary, takes nerves of steel and self-confidence galore….the mark of a true champion. I marvel that when completely found out instead of contrition there is defiance- the boldfaced temerity of it..

There is no second place in a tampon run

Crosswalks are just an ‘I dare you’ situation……

Ever wake up weird and it just runs with the ball for the rest of the day?  I woke up with another duct tape rash on my mouth and a questioning of my devotion. If I would take a bullet for you, it would doubtlessly be a suppository bullet.  Frustration stemming from another making the relationship decisions  makes me feel like lashing out, as an act of microcosmic social disobedience…. I wish I had a tail, so I could walk around with it lifted like at a dog run…an egregious, ‘in your face’ slap, that would let you share in my shrill discor’dance’ with the Devil….How I loathe my resignation to that blasted power a boa constricting ‘relationship’ chick always seems to have over me….. Seeking immediate relief I listen to anything  harpsichord, ( http://youtu.be/wMx8WFlzI68 )  which makes everything so refined especially when contemplating my next decision now that I’m officially going to  take the easy way out…which is, what to wear?

Everyone has ulterior motives, the trick is to find someone whose are sweet potato fries

I mourn for the loss of my Ex although she overdid it with the kegel exercises, to the point where she earned extra money working as a can crusher at the front entrance of a supermarket….she  was a bit immature, she had this nerf headboard which was kinda cool for the simple reason that I was less concussed than usual during our brief courtship

I lead by example, usually of what not to do. An indiscretion just means you went in without thinking….When I put myself out there, it always seems to be  garbage day…this all leads to inertia, a passion for indifference as the more I struggle to achieve some sort of success, the easier it is to just wait for something to just pop in my head and slap it down on a blog to the adoring multitudes of future generations….maybe

There was a time, so long ago where the mark of a good ski for me was to warp speed into a bump and if it could just suck it up and absorb without me being shot into outer space, it was worth the adulation… These days I find Chicks like wood core racing skis…stiff and unforgiving…good on ice, but way too much effort to get them to whip around without landing on the moon

It's hard to surf the waves of nausea

You always know exactly where you should be and you always feel exactly where you shouldn’t.  It’s a grey, blustery day here in Montreal, accompanying the unwanted miracle of birth of wintertime…it’s after-birth of snowy white stuff, carefully strewn as if by a movie crew- is just enough to piss me off ; setting off the tripwire that sends me into a stifled rage that bemoans my present circumstances…….

.  A thin patina of slush just makes the walking that much more precarious and in my current hydroceled state, with a ballsac just slightly larger than the huge dome of the Orange Julep…. I’m forced to walk like a humiliated Frankenstein, if he had just peed in his pants and was sent home from a playdate by an irate Mom

The ‘one hand giveth, one hand taketh away’ equation has morphed into the one hand ‘givetaketh’ away.  To the effect where I now cringe at any good luck,as karma is a sparring partner with wrecking balls for boxing gloves and no sense of when I’m tapping out in submission…

Sleep deprived and in a constant state of nauseous erection, my emotional baggage seems to be carried in the newfound bags under my eyes…Although I had some great news this week, where I was summarily inspected by the top urologist in Montreal, between his missions of mercy to Africa to help native Women with their vaginal fistulas.  In his very expert opinion, I do not have a hernia….Oh Happy Day!!  The weights at the gym are overjoyed that they will soon be thrown around. However socialized medicine, such as it is, requires me to wait until January/February….an awful mess of a mental struggle to contend with.

Another great Alpo  ’meat with meat byproducts’ result is that I got to tell the Mengeloid Doctor who had kept me waiting in pain since last June, to politely ‘Fuck Off’….

Not being able to do cardio in my present state, but more so the discovery of McCain’s Ultra Thin frozen pizza…has afforded the gross indulgence of  putting on a ton of weight…Kris Kringle sized proportions which I can lose pretty quickly especially if I can just trigger diabetic shock…the trick is to change the voicemail greeting on a daily basis so people don’t get too nosy into my business