The Mind of Spaz

Not too long ago, my parents downsized their house. It was about time too – that 3000 square foot monstrosity of a McMansion was too big for them, me and my sister, let alone them for the past 12 or so years. So now, instead of a house four times the size of mine, they have a house only 2 1/2 the size of mine.

‘Downsizing’.

Anyways, as part of their move my old man spent upwards of my yearly salary redoing the house.   Part of that was the kitchen, and guess what?  I got the cabinets. Not that I’m complaining. These cabinets are only 5 years older than I am, instead of the ones I have which are 35 years older than I am. In other words, a significant improvement.

So, with hope in my heart, a gleam in my eye, myself and my hired contractor set off to redo the kitchen using the old/new cabinets.

As an aside, good quality floors are a flipping FORTUNE nowadays. What the hells with that? I asked the guy if for that price it would blow me.  He said he’d blow me. I said ew no thanks. He said it’ll still be $711.21 for the floor.  Bastard.

The contractor I have is good.  Really good. He knows what he’s doing I tell you. He’s the retired fire chief, works for my parents, has a lot of years of experience, and is damned spry for a 65 year old. There’s only one problem.

He farts.

Now, ordinarily that would be no issue whatsoever. I like farting myself. But you know, it’s ALL THE TIME. When he bends over. When he gets up. when he leans to one side or the other. When he uses a drill, or a saw, or a screwdriver, or sighs, or goes up the stairs, or goes down, or goes inside, or goes outside, he farts.

And they are long. And they stink. And they are wet.

It got so bad the other day that even when he wasn’t farting, he smelled like fart. I believe that’s because he sharted himself.

Regardless, I can suck it up. Because he’s a great contractor and he’s cheap. And lets face it, when he’s gone I can air out the house. Might take a week or two, but I’ll have a new kitchen AND a house that doesn’t smell like fart.

Win.

good things, poo fart, house, shart

Yea, I haven’t been around here.  I’ve been working on some other projects. Like this one.  And this one.  And this one.  And some other crap in the works.  But that’s ok, because I came up with something to make up for my not being around here.

Are you ready for the SUPER GIANT BIG HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT????

Yea, thanks for getting all exited there.  You, in the corner, wake up so I can tell you.

I MADE A MIND OF SPAZ E-BOOK!

One hundred and thirty one pages of somma the best crap here. And by best I mean the best of this blog which actually isn’t all that good, but you get the point.

This is also why downloading the book will cost you about the same as a cup of coffee.  Or half the price of anything you buy at Starbucks.

It’s on my Dreaming of a Dollar site cuz I got the software there to do all this fun stuff. So, if you are interested:

CLICK HERE TO GET A COPY OF THE MIND OF SPAZ E-BOOK!

Thanks!

good things, poo fart, house, shart

This morning was much like any morning.  Alarm went off at 6 a.m.  I hit the snooze alarm only to realize that if I wasn’t at work at least an hour before my normal paid start time, there’d be hell to pay. The dog went out and refused to come back inside having found an old pigs ear she buried the month before.  My folks called saying they needed this that and the other thing.  I remembered all the other crap I had to do after work.   Oh yea, a pile of unpaid bills on the kitchen table.  The bank of Canada just announced yet another interest rate hike and last week the provincial government introduced a new ‘fuck the taxpayer up the ass’ tax.

I’m not whining.  That’s what everybody has to deal with every stinking day.  Whining friends, whiny co-workers, bullshit, everybody begging for what money you don’t have, an asshole government, and welfare lifers that have nicer shit than you do, the working stiff.

What a pile of flaming crack whores.

So I was thinking to myself “Spaz, if everyone gave you a dollar, it would mean nothing to them but you’d be rich enough to quit your day job and have a nice life and maybe even take a vacation. Man, that would be nice. A vacation.”

But how is everyone going to give me a dollar?  Then the idea struck. I’d make a website!

But of course, the feds only approve of panhandling when you’re an unwashed street bum pretending to have the shakes playing an aging guitar with your tongue because you only have one hand. That way, no one can see you get into your Mercedes and drive to your McMansion after making another $500 in quarters, loonies and toonies that day.  So if everybody was going to give me a dollar, I’d have to offer something in return.

That being said, I’m pleased to introduce my new site, Dreaming of a Dollar.com.

Yes, you too can give me a dollar, make me happy, and live vicariously through my happiness!  So, what do you get for your dollar?

• An arcade with hundreds of games
• An interactive casino
• A REALLY cool interactive route finder which takes you on a virtual tour of your driving route
• A bunch of other cool shit.

And what do you get for free?

• A chat room
• Two blogs, one of which features demotivational posters by yours truly
• And a chat room. Wait, I think I said that.
• And more to come.

Oh, and coming soon you will be able to get the mindofspaz ebook right from that site, due to the nature of the much more powerful software, so stay tuned for that.

I want everybody to go there! Hey, I’m offering a FREE SUBSCRIPTION to anyone who helps me promote the site.  That would include one or all of the following:

• add a link to your blog/website
• tweet about it
• blog about it
• facebook about it

Just email me at mindofspaz@gmail.com with the subject line ‘dreaming of a dollar’, let me know how you helped and I’ll set you up with a free subscription to Dreaming of a Dollar.

Thanks guys, you’re the best, and on one of the DOAD blogs you’ll get to hear all about my adventures trying for my freedom.

Love,

Spaz

good things, poo fart, house, shart

I don’t usually post strictly the work of others, but I felt this HAD to be shared. Read all the way to the end, wouldjas.

good things, poo fart, house, shart

I have this friend.  If you are a regular reader of this blog, you may have seen him in the comments section referring to himself as Tech Joe.

Tech Joe isn’t just any technician.  He’s a computer tech and a damned good one at that. He rarely doesn’t know an answer and if he does it takes him minutes to find one. More importantly, he’s my fat person wing man and he introduced me to the phenomenons of NO YOU! and drive by clucking.  We’ll cover those later.

Tech Joe made three mistakes in life.  Firstly, he married. Secondly, he stuck his dick in her once.  Thirdly, he stuck his dick in her a second time. This resulted in two children and a screaming wife. Or is it two screaming children and a wife?

What happened next was horror and hell for poor Tech Joe:  He wasn’t able to upgrade his computer for seven years.

This is virtual suicide to a computer nerd.

He watched his friends upgrade their computers again and again, able to play all the newest games while he was busy doing laundry, changing diapers and building computers for OTHERS to play games, but not him. No, not for him.

And then something happened. Something wonderful and magical happened for him.

You see, the kids are a tad older, the wife only yells at him three times a day, and his job now pays him well.

And so, Mr. Computer tech went out and got himself an electronic penis extension.

I googled “electronic penis extension” and decided none of the pictures were safe for work.  You can do that on your own time.

Now, Tech Joes friends all had computers that could play the latest games, but only just so.  Money said that they had to get a machine that could only do the job, not do the job well.  It’s kind of like getting a Ford Tempo: It’ll get you there, but not nearly as fun as the Mustang you really wanted.

Joe’s computer is the mustang.

And I, for one, and jealous.

Go enjoy your extra 12″ Tech Joe, you’ve earned them.

good things, poo fart, house, shart