This is My Last Post Mentioning Boobs

I'm in the habit of checking my stats to see the kind of searches people do on the Internets to get to my blog (which has become a regular Friday feature for me). I've calculated that about 10% of my daily visitors reach my blog via some kind of Internet search.

I've also calculated that of that 10%, the large majority of those people (roughly 80%) reach my blog searching for women's breasts using ever possible slang term for them. Or some other kind of strange porn stuff I won't really repeat here.

Granted, I haven't helped the situation much thanks to my frequent listing of these strange searches each Friday. It's started a snowball effect.

What also hasn't helped the situation much is the title of my blog. "Cherry Ride" is a slang term from the 70s that I used with friends in college, grad school and then in Portland to describe a nice/sweet/rad car. If you were walking down the street and you saw a souped-up Mustang drive by, you'd say "Dude, that is a cherry ride!" (In my circle of friends we'd say it mockingly because we all drove Ford Tempos and Honda Civics.)

I thought most people were familiar with this term, but apparently not, as I'd often get people asking my what the title of this blog refers to. I thought the term "cherry ride" was universally known.

I know that the term "cherry" especially when combined with the word "ride" can have other connotations as well, which is what I think brings a lot of the sickos to my blog. If I'm horny enough to be Googling "big virgin [mammaries]" at 3 am (and yes, somehow someone did find my blog that way) and a blog called "The Cherry Ride" comes up, well I'm probably going to click on it.

So I think moving forward I'm going to keep the references to female body parts to a minimum. From now on, this blog will be known only for Trannies and, after yesterday, Sharting.

But having said that, some people found my blog this week by Googling: "It's the tight ride, bitches" and "public urination fine in Milwaukee."

Peace Out and have a good weekend, y'all.

PROPER.

This Is a Post About Sharting

(Note: If you don’t want to read about gross stuff like bodily functions – particularly involuntary ones – than read no further. Come back another day when things go back to normal.)

(Note #2: The following might be considered an "over-share" by some - OK all -- of you, but what the hell, we're friends, right? DON'T JUDGE ME, bitches.)

Saturday afternoon I was in a bookstore and I sharted. Yes, it’s true. Like anyone else who’s been in this situation (and please – we all have. I don’t care what you say - we’ve all done it.) I thought I was discretely letting just a little gas pass, when suddenly I realized it wasn’t just a little air down there.

Unluckily for me, just a few hours earlier I’d had a few bites of a delicious La Pasadita burrito with some extra hot sauce (I know, I know), and let’s just say that the act of squeezing out a little gas had, umm, “opened the floodgates” a bit.

At least the bookstore was around the corner from my apartment, so I was able to get home in good time before suffering any additional damage (no, it was a small bookstore with no public restroom). But the 10 minutes it took for me to walk home - in a desperate attempt to keep leakage to a minimum – was definitely loooong.

What’s worse than the actual act of sharting is the walk. That is the absolute worst. Two things are happening with the Shart Walk: 1) You’re walking down the street like a retard with your ass cheeks clenched, trying to play it cool wondering if everyone can tell that you just shit your pants, and; 2) Since you can’t see your backside, you’re wondering if you’re beginning to leave a stain on the seat of your pants. Are people behind me looking at my ass because there’s now a stain there?? Damn.

I realized that there’s actually some good that can come from the Shart. Sharting can be the great human equalizer - it reminds you that no matter how cool or evolved you think you might be, once you have an involuntary bowel movement, you’re just as much of a dork as everyone else. Think about it. Even the coolest people in the world (think Barack Obama, Helen Mirren, David Beckham, Jessica Alba, etc.) – they’ve all sharted. Think about that. The shart is God’s way of saying: “Hey, we’re all the same. And we're all idiots.”

[I found this on Google. My shart experience was nothing like what is depicted on this movie poster, btw.]

Whatta Bunch of Baloney

It's time for my annual post about GW. Normally, I would save it for a time when he's done something really, really retarded (by GW standards), but I saw this on Food & Wine.com (via Gawker -- 'cuz I ain't no fancy food and wine person) today and felt that, yep, this was gonna be it.

When the president of the most powerful nation on earth and leader of the free world (yeah, it turns my stomach a little to write those words) stays at the Waldorf-Astoria, he eats bologna sandwiches. From F&W.com writer Kate Krader:

"...but I do know that when President George Bush stays at the hotel, he likes to order bologna sandwiches on white bread with mayonnaise, with Doritos on the side. Apparently that counts as a special order since the hotel doesn’t stock Wonder Bread, the President’s favorite."

There are so many disturbing things about the above paragraph I don't know where to begin. You're at the Waldorf-Astoria, and you're eating processed meats made for five-year old children. On the shittiest "bread" ever made (let's be real - Wonder is to bread as powdered milk is to, well, milk). I didn't realize adults ate bologna. Let alone Wonder Bread. If we didn't already have enough reason to impeach him, shouldn't this be it?

[Here's our boy, looking out the window, likely dreaming of a giant delicious Oscar Meyer & Wonder Bread sammich.]

Let One Rip

Today we're going straight to our Friday "internet searches that led people to my blog" feature. The highlights*:

The whack:

• "patriotic big hair"
• "wheels in the sky keep on turnin'"
• "St. Paul succotash mid-century"
• "house of fun TV cherry"
• "let one rip"
  

The dirty:

• "bra and girdle movies"
• "boyzillian Chicago"
• "big boob castle"
  

The really, really whack:

• "Denver trannie"
• "go to White Castle boobs"
  

*excluding, of course, the usuals -- "Helen Mirren's boobs" and "ever since I can remember I've been poppin' my collar"

PS - KAZ, I believe I may be back on top for Helen Mirren's boobs. Ball's in your court now.

Summer Solstice

I have just two things to say about today...

The Bad: the days only get shorter from here on out. That's depressing.
The Good: we're one day closer to summer being over and the yummy goodness of Fall to be upon us.

In honor, today at lunch I'm drinking the new, special edition Pepsi Summer Mix (pictured below). They say it tastes like "a mix of pepsi and tropical fruit flavors." I say it tastes like "someone drank a pepsi, ate a sno-cone and a handful of smarties and threw it up all into my mouth."

This Is a Post About My Shorts

No, I'm not starved for content today (Richard), I just want to take a minute to discuss my favorite shorts.

That's them in the picture above. They're brown with little pink crows on them. They're also reversible (!!!) and they kick ass.

I wore them on Friday and I received several compliments on them - a stranger on the elevator told me she loved them. My boss, who is straight, said they were "cute" and another co-worker told me they "are like boxer shorts" (but he went on to explain in a good way). At Taste of Randolph St., I'm pretty sure a woman next to me in the beer line volunteered to help me carry my surplus of full beer cups because she dug them.

Turn them inside out and they're a dazzling brown, red and aqua stripe yummy goodness (in the photo you can see from the cuff there on my left leg). They're like two pair of kick-ass shorts rolled into one!

The only downside is that they've got a velcro fly (cue the ZZ Top). I had forgotten this fact until standing at the urinal in an occupied bathroom at work. A bit embarrassing.

Guys, I know what you're thinking: "Pink birds? Red and aqua stripes?? Where can I get a pair of those amazingly manly-hetero shorts??" Well, sorry but Modern Amusement made them last summer and they're sold out.

Sadcakes for you.

The Wacko Macko and Paul Poon (or: Skinny Dipping Is Awesome!)

[this is a photo of what the Wacko Macko kinda looks like, if you gussied it up a bit and added a lemon]

A few posts back I mentioned that LP and I would be creating a new drink called the Wacko Macko, consisting of Hawaiian Punch, DeKuyper's "Island Blue Pucker" flavor and Everclear, and that it would be Fabulous and the Official Drink Of Summer. We finally had the chance to create it this weekend when Richard,Niner, LP and I went up/down/across to the lake house in Indiana.

After spending roughly $60 on ingredients (and since Everclear is pretty much illegal in the Midwest – WTF? – we had to settle for Vodka), LP and I got down to it, like chemists in the science lab. I’ll spare you all the details, but after a couple variations of the HP, the Island Blue Pucker, tonic water and limes, we’ve decided that the Wacko Macko needs some minor/major re-tooling to become that perfect Summer ’07 Drink. Not that what we created this weekend was bad – quite the contrary – but we may need to substitute the Hawaiian Punch with something like Tang. And maybe add some other stuff to zing it up.

Regardless, I ended up having two big glasses of Wacko Mackos in the space of about 45 minutes. They were that good, people.

And like most great scientists experimenting in a lab throughout history, we unintentionally created another equally amazing product that was completely unexpected but equally impressive through the course of our experimenting – the Paul Poon.
The Paul Poon (see photo above) is a mixture of the Island Blue Pucker, tonic water and lime and vodka (its kinda like the Wacko Macko but without the Hawaiian Punch to make it sweet). Some may say that the Paul Poon is better than the Wacko Macko. That is up for debate.

All I know is that after two Wacko Mackos and some of the ol’ Paul Poon** the next thing I know is we’re all in the lake sliding down the slide, diving off the diving board, and jumping on the big trampoline - all in the middle of the lake.

Oh yeah - and then my shorts are off and I’m Skinny Dipping. Whoops.

Last week I had described how nothing makes you feel like a kid again than a good Public Urination; I’m here today to tell you that a good Skinny Dip pretty much has the same effect. It was almost like a was a 4-year old child. ***

The rest of the evening is kinda spotty – I recall an attempt to play 80’s trivial pursuit thwarted by rain, frozen pizza AND pizza rolls (score!), an in-depth conversation about the speculative sex life of a mutual friend, watching the original 1970’s Superman movie, and the inability to make up the bed for sleeping.

I may someday live to have a few regrets – maybe even some regrets about this past weekend - but the skinny dipping incident will not be one of them. Thank you Wacko Macko (v1) and Paul Poon for giving me such pleasure.

PS – we were not able to meet up with Cooter this time around. But I have faith that sometime soon we will.

** I think it is OK to refer to the Paul Poon as the Ol' Paul Poon. It has a nice ring to it, no?

*** A 4-year old child who happened to be drunk.

I Am Awake With Big Boobs (Friday Thoughts)

• I did something drastic and purchased a 6-month locker rental at my gym the other day. Which means one of two things: I am either getting serious about going to the gym on a regular basis, or I'm a complete fool who likes to waste money. Time will tell.
• Confession: Richard and I ate White Castles yesterday. Unbelievably, it was his first time there, and my first time in 16 years. It was good. Diiiiirty good. I shouldn't admit this, but we spent $25 there (and that's not including the gas it took to get all the way up to Edgewater) -- twenty-five dollars!!!! Richard wrote about it too, and you can see an actual photo of the carnage here.
  
• Heading to the Randolph St. Fest tonight for beer, giant BBQ turkey legs and Fountains of Wayne.
• Tomorrow is the first summer trip to Indiana to drink Wacko Mackos and eat a variety of Hostess products. Lookout Cooter!
• Chances that I'll see the new Fantastic Four movie this weekend (even though I know it is going to suck ass): 60%
• There's a new posting over at The Liar's Club. Check it out, leave a comment and stop by regularly. Those good people need your support!
  

Highlights from this week's Google/MSN/Yahoo searches that brought people to my site (excluding the usual suspects: "Helen Mirren's boobs", "Ever Since I Can Remember I've Been Poppin' My Collar" and "cherry juggs"):

• "I am awake with big boobs"
• "I have one calf muscle bigger than the other"
• "I am pathetic and fat"
• "Trans fat my ass"
• "How not to be boring"
• "Riding London Tube is like smoking two cigarettes" (which I've been told is actually true, which means I smoked about six packs in the 7 weeks I lived there. Shit.)
  

I Got Yelled At...

... by my office building landlord this afternoon for having my window open, while the air conditioning was on. Seriously. He yelled at me.

Is the air conditioning really on? Because that would mean there would be cool air flowing through the building. Which there isn't. Hence the reason my window is open.

I'll make a deal with you, Mr. Douchebag Landlord: I'll stop opening the window when you decide to fix the air conditioning in this shanty office space.

Leme

I am creating a new term called "leme" used to describe any one of the hundreds of lame memes that get passed around the blog world. The below is one of them.

I've been tagged by my dear friend Classy and Fancy with this one. She got it from none other than Julie "And then the sexiness happened" Gong. Damn the both of you!

Not doing the meme and following the instructions is simply not an option, because everybody knows what happens if you don't: shame falls on your house and all who enter it, your car gets stolen, your penis falls off, blah blah blah.
* * * *
INSTRUCTIONS: Remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so.

1. FeistyMnGirl
2. What Greg Likes
3. A Blog of a Good Time
4. Classy & Fancy
5. [Cherry] Ride
   

Select five people to tag (Note: Classy already stole most of the original people I would have tagged):

1. Carrie Bradshaw
   
2. ChuckDaddy Express
3. Kefla
4. Once Upon a Day (like she doesn't have enough memes to write already)
5. ReckenRoll
   

My apologies in advance to all of you (unless of course you like lemes). Without further ado...

What were you doing 10 years ago?
Keepin' it real in Portland. More specifically, I was probably writing speaking points for why Internet Explorer 4 was going to be better than Netscape Navigator 4 was (jealous, I know).

What were you doing 1 year ago?
Trying to figure out how old I was, while also plotting to somehow score free tickets to Madonna.

Five snacks you enjoy:
Nacho Cheese Flavored Combos
Twix
Peanut Butter-Filled Pretzels from Trader Joes
Small Children
Sea Monkeys

Five songs that you know all the lyrics to:
Everything's Better with Blue Bonnet on It
Drop Kick Me Jesus Through the Goal Posts of Life
Who's Johnny?
Pac-Man Fever
My Heart Will Go On

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
Gold Plated Toilet
Donut of the Week Club
Flat in London
Beach House in Manly
Weekly Anal Bleaching

Five bad habits:
Junk Food
Nail Biting
Craigslist
Blogging At Work
Not Keeping in Contact With People

Five things you like doing:
Swimming
Blogging
Traveling
Music
Not Responding to Lemes

Five things you would never wear again:
I can't think of a single thing I'd never wear again, given the right situation

Five favorite toys:
Aqua Man Doll
Star Wars Figures
Laptop
iPod
Camera

Weekend Recap

Very busy today, so let's just get started, people. Highlights from the weekend:

• Richard, Niner, LP and I ate at Taco Bell. Of our own free will. Without being drunk. The 7 Layer Crunchwrap Supreme is not really as "good to go" as they claim it to be.
• Although the Wacko Macko may be the official drink of Summer 07, it must be noted that the Long Island Iced Tea is also a mighty fine option. Especially two or more in a thirty minute period.
  
• You know what else is a mighty fine drink option for summer? Pink ones. Shouldn't a raspberry lemonade alcoholic drink be reddish or pink in color? Not as much as you might think, if you're having them from the Pontiac Cafe. My advice to all of you: if your raspberry lemonade alcoholic drink isn't pink, send it back.
• I learned the meaning of "hitting one to the upper deck." If you don't know what it refers to (and no, not the in baseball sense) and would like to learn, e-mail the Niner.
• Is getting told by someone that you remind them of Ferris Bueller a complement? Really?
  
• What happened to the days of getting free drinks when it's your birthday? Long gone, apparently. While at the bar(s) this weekend, I was telling anyone who would listen (our server, our hostess, etc.) or not listen (some guy in the urinal next to me, the girl behind me at the ATM, etc.) it was my birthday but didn't get a free drink or shot from anyone on the bar's payroll. Granted, it wasn't actually my birthday (yet), but they didn't know that.
• Feeling old and depressed on your birthday weekend and want to feel younger? Two words my friends: Public Urination. I took a piss behind a dumpster in an alley and immediately felt like I was, like, in college again. Seriously, give it a try. You don't even need to wait until your birthday.
  
• I bought a cool pair of treads this weekend at a skateboard shop on Milwaukee that Niner dragged us to Saturday afternoon. "Wow Cherry," you're thinking, "I didn't know you were a skateboarder." Well, I'm not. But show me where it's written that one has to be a skateboarder to wear skate shoes. Do you have to be a tramp to have a tramp stamp? Didn't think so. So back off.
• It is possible to drink an entire bottle of beer before someone points out to you that it is of the non-alcoholic variety. And I think that's bullshit - there should be bigger warnings on the bottle indicating there's no alcohol in it. I mean, c'mon - I wasted valuable stomach real estate on an entire bottle on non-alcoholic beer!! You can't just bounce back from that with the snap of the fingers.
• How do you know a party's been a success? No, not when you "hit one to the upper deck" (although that could certainly count), but when you're doing the bump to "Freedom '90" by George Michael, throwing balloons into the street from the rooftop deck and yelling offensive remarks to the people on the street below.
• I was supposed to go to KID's graduation party Sunday, and I didn't make it. Sorry, KID. I'll make it up to you!
  

Thanks everyone for the birfday wishes!

Pepperidge Farms Racist

If you haven't already, hop over to Bridget Jones and help her launch her new campaign called "Tupperware Secret." It's like Post Secret, except with Tupperware (and yeah, it was my idea).

I just remembered, then found, my first-ever attempt at a blog (two entries back in July of 2003 when Blogger was a piss-ant little site without much HTML capabilities), which was just as riveting as my current blog is. After this one I went on to my own website - now defunct - then MSN Spaces. So I'm officially a Blogging Whore. Curious as to when any of you started blogging?

Without further ado, highlights from this week's Google/MSN/Yahoo! searches that led people to my blog (excluding the old standards - "Helen Mirren's boobs" and "Ever Since I Can Remember I've Been Poppin' My Collar" - which I get on a daily basis):

• Really random ones: "tranny wives", "trannie vacation" (which I swear I've seen on Skinemax), "bitches from Sutton Bay", "where to buy vegemite in Tucson", "purple phlegm", "Pebbles Girlfriend blogspot", "KFC toy Alba" and "pepperidge farms racist" (which I think is an awesome name for a band)
  
• And the X-rated ones: "ride and suck", "titts out in public", "cherry tattoos on the ass" "hang titts" and "blogspot juggs."

Oh yeah - and it's my birfday weekend!

Have a good weekend, y'all.
PROPER!

The Wacko Macko

[This is not my driver's license or photo. Mine is much uglier.]

Tuesday night Niner had a softball game, so I accompanied LP to the Sox-Yankees Game. All kinds of hilarity ensued, but essentially three highlights:

1. Sox lost (this isn't really a "highlight" more just an unfortunate fact).
2. As LP and I were getting our beer, the woman checking IDs looked at my DC driver's license (yeah, I've been living back in Chicago for 16 months, so what??) and said I had the most beautiful ID photo she'd ever seen. Ever. She told me I should "send it somewhere" (her words, not mine) like a modeling agency. She said I was "gorgeous" (again her words not mine - LP if you're reading this, please verify in the comments section). She even took my ID and showed it to her friend working next to her. When we said she probably says that to all the guys, she said, "No, I'm honest. Some of these people here are real ugly!" I relate this story to you dear readers, not because I agree with her, but more because she is obviously crazy. Our friend Juli from Portland happened to call LP during the game and when LP told her the story, Juli's reply was: "Keep Will away from the Carnies." Which I think sums the situation up quite nicely.
3. LP told me a game she'd created last year, in which she has tried to create an alcoholic beverage based on each Sox starting player's name. When we got to Rob Mackowiak, LP indicated that she hadn't come up with a drink for him yet (since he's new this year). I suggested a drink called the "Wacko Macko" which, in a moment of sheer collaborative brilliance, will be comprised of Hawaiian Punch, DeKuyper's "Island Blue Pucker" flavor, and (of course) Everclear. It will be purple in color, utterly fabulous, and I declare it to be the official drink of Summer '07 (replacing last year's official drink, the "Calimocho"). Who is with me??
   
   [This is Rob Mackowiak]

Happy Tuesday

I work in a job where I have clients that I sometimes don't enjoy working with, who can be real ass wipes.

Yesterday, I had to send one of my clients an e-mail that I knew he wasn't going to like, with some rather unfortunate information. (Sometimes, in my job, I have to play a bad guy and advise a client with a good dose of reality as to why other people on the planet don't share his belief that his lame idea is the Next Big Thing.)

I came into the office this morning with an e-mail from him with the words "This is a totally unacceptable answer" copying his boss and some of his colleagues. Like I'm some retarded child. You know what's totally unacceptable? You being a douche nugget.

Yay! I love starting my day with an e-mail like that. Sometimes I really love my job.

I think I'd like to start a website, and call it something like "MyJobSucks.com" in which people can write in their weekly bad work experiences. The benefit being that when you're having a really bad day at work you can read about other people's misfortunes and hopefully crack a smile, knowing you're not alone.

Is This a Joke?

... There's no way it is really June already. No fucking way.

Almost halfway through the year and I've barely made a dent in my 2007 Resolutions.

Top 10 Things to Do in Souix Falls, SD...

[This is the Sioux Falls Airport, folks. Pretty exciting shit.]

… when Stuck in the Airport on a 2.5 hour Layover:

1. Zip
2. Zero
3. Zilch
4. Buy a South Dakota refrigerator magnet as a gift
5. Complain when the only gift shop in the place closes at 5 pm. (5 pm, people!)
6. Nothing
7. Nada
8. Jack
9. Jack Shit
10. Make fun of the other people in the airport