Lyndon and the Ladybirds

Wart Day

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Fri, 25 May 2012 13:46:00 +0000

I'm graduating from college today. Or, I should say that my college is graduating me. You know, that is the only thing I've learned in college. Oh, and I've also learned to be smug and condescending. Actually, I was already smug and condescending. What I really learned is that I'm going to be in debt forever. No big deal though. Everyone else my age will be in debt. And there's always suicide.

I am glad I went to school. I am 30 now.I went back to school a little later than most. But I'm glad I did, because it allowed me to hone my condescension.

However, the most important thing to happen today is that my wart is going away. This wart has been on my thumb for about three years. I have tried everything to get rid of it. I've used a nail file, I've used duct tape, and I've even tried to cut it off with a razor. Yet, these things just happen by themselves. I will miss the little guy. He's been with me through thick and thin. When I have been sick and when I have been thin. He has been with me through multiple masturbations. He's been with me when I've had to use my thumb to grip the limb of a tree, to get a glass of water, and even to check the temperature of my ass. I couldn't have done it without you, buddy! I'll see you in hell.

Dictation on pooping.

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Thu, 17 May 2012 19:19:00 +0000

"I had a fish taco that was just delicious, but I guess I just couldn't digest it."
I just heard that coming out of the library. There was a lady sitting on the bench talking on the phone. I wonder what the other half of the conversation was.

I was attunes to this kind of conversation because I just got out of the bathroom. As I was checking out, I felt an urge to go to the bathroom. And so on my way out of course I made a pitstop.

I think I drank too much tea this morning. My guts were gurgling and burbling and my stomach was telling me, "Evacuate! evacuate!" so of course, I listened.

Luckily, I'm relatively healthy so I wasn't too surprised with what came out. However, as I'm sitting there on the pot reading the book I just checked out a few guys came in and out to use the bathroom.

Some people just aren't healthy. One guy passed gas and it sounded like he shit his pants. It sounded like a large number two, not unlike the one I had just deposited into the Hillsborough County sewage system, had just manifested itself in his boxer shorts.
Another guy came in, and there was a distinct sputtering sound that emanated from his ass. Somebody better check themselves when I get home.
Although, maybe I'm not so healthy given that I was able to spend about 10 minutes listening to other guys' farts and analyzing their liquid content.

Edit: I have made no edits except to put this disclaimer. Sorry about all the grammar and the passive voice and all that.

Buttz

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 20:36:00 +0000

There's really nothing about butts. I just like adding z's to words that are already funny.
Butt. Buh-Utt.

Anyway, gotta defend my thesis tomorrow. I guess I should read what I paid that Chinese kid to write for me. It starts out, "Many thanks for Bible for harmonious giving of time."
Is that a bad thing?

The Library Is Truly Lame

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 09 Apr 2012 18:03:00 +0000

I receive a lot of spam comments. But this one, if it's spam, is glorious.

"Its time to make that change we got some peopl you can do it!! Tell the space aliens from the far past or far future when it comes to world control TIME TRAVEL only one thing a moon globe winked into existence from the past or future. Past the outer planets 1/3rd once moving bodies [pets or alien] if there brot back to life they shall have noo cruel or unususaul punshment for any one in the system in storage or sacred burial the master race at [Zriek Chosnoo] inc said one third wherehouse shelves of metals had steal-iron an minerals ect can send a layer of mist atoms any place on the planet on a roof in a tube-uncapped pharaps. Another One third the moon has rocks-jewels that can wink in one at a time on the ocean front fake rocks really made to have a gift in the center science or art or biology whatever. And include the fourth and last part requesting with mind reading telepathy to have THEM aliens wink a moon in past the outer planets far out, 2 small space craft navigator on"

THEM aliens is cray-cray. Even the OT 9 Sea-Org-ers in the Church of Scientology would see this and say: "What the fuck are you talking about? These are nutty ramblings of a schizophrenic sci-fi geek! Now, let's all finish our passage in Dianetics."

There's a running joke on Parks and Recreation where the who work at the library are assholes. I understand that now. I went to the public library on Saturday. It's a nice library. The homeless population is close to zero, so you know, the smell of urine in the facility is at a minimum. Compared with that urinal cake known as the downtown library, it's rather pleasant.

It's too bad that the people that work there are unhelpful ninnies. Here's what happened. I had a book on reserve. I went to the automated machine to check out my book and the machine could not process my request. I understand that it's more efficient to have the machines, but now the desk trolls act like it's an imposition if I speak to them.

Turns out, I had a fine of $1.20. Shit! I have no cash!
"Do you take cards?" I asked.
"No, sir. Cash or check only."
"Ok. Might I be able to pay you the next time? It's only a $1.20 and I live far from here."
"No, sir. I'll hold them for you for a little while if you want to run home and grab some money."
Resigned, I answered ok.

I hand him the books, and walk back to my car. Lucky for me, I had just that amount in my car's change holder.

As I'm walking in I notice the desk troll putting away my books. I retrieve them and he points to another lady now behind the counter.
"She'll help you over there." He said.
I walk up to the desk and hand her my card and the books. She scans my card, I pay her the money, and she places the receipt into my book. She pushes them toward me and gives me a contemptuous look. I don't know why. Nevertheless, I smile, thank her and walk out.

BEEP BEEP BEEP!
I turn around. The checkout lady said, "You'll have to check them out over there." She points to the machine that originally rejected me.

I go to the machine and check them out and walk out frustrated at how inept and inefficient that library is.
She had my books, why didn't she check them out when I paid her? Why wait for me to get caught in the alarm? Why can't they postpone my fees? It doesn't have to be forever. It can be once or twice and then there are no checkouts. That's more equitable, especially when my taxes pay for that library.

Whatever. I'll be back there at some point. I'd better bring some cash next time.

Doggy Dog

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 28 Mar 2012 16:00:00 +0000

Totally almost done with my thesis. When I'm finished I hope to have 85 tightly-argued pages. I'll probably closer to 12 really good pages and 73 so-so pages. Whatever. I'll be a muthafuckin' college graduate. Then, it's on to law school. It never ends!

I'm on spring break this week and I don't have shit to write about. Actually, I do. It's called my thesis. And I need to do that right now.

Here's a picture of the meme I've been laughing at lately. Cherkum urt!

Source: http://www.ranker.com/list/the-very-best-of-the-berks-meme/robert-wabash

Garagey

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Fri, 16 Mar 2012 13:32:00 +0000

I realize that this is not a picture of all five of my cats in a garage. I have five fucking cats. Jesus.

My cats: "Hey, owner. Let us into the garage! Meow. Meow. Please?"

Me: "Ok. Let me just open the door fo- Wait! Wait until I get it all the way open until you push your way in. There are five of you. What is so exciting about a pitch-black garage anyhow?"

Cats: "You wouldn't understand."

Two hours later.

Me: "I think I'll just open the garage and see what they're up to. They're probably frolicking and playing cat games. Why else would they want to leave the comfort of the house?"

Door opens. Cats asleep on lawnmower, gas can, and spare table.

Cats, looking up sleepily: "Why did you awaken us? Can't you see we're sleeping?"

Me: "But why would you sleep in here where it's hot instead of on our comfortable bed inside?"

Cats: "We love to smell like yard clippings and fuel. It makes us feel manly."

Me: "I can see that."

Closes door.

A Machine! That Poops!

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 22:12:00 +0000

I'm wasting time. Lots of it. Here I am, proofreading a paper and watching videos on Youtube. Here's an awesome one. It's a machine that "eats" and produces real shit! It poops! It's in a museum in Antwerp, which, along with this installation, has a collection of women's asshole imprints called "Anal Kisses."

I think pooping is funny as hell. It's a smelly purple substance that you push out of your asshole through peristaltic movement. Wait, I'm being told that most poop is brown and not purple. What the fuck am I eating?

Anyway, here's the clip.

Hugs and (anal) kisses,
L-Dog

Rick Santorum

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Thu, 23 Feb 2012 18:08:00 +0000

First of all, can we all agree that Rick Santorum's sweater vests make him 100% more punchable? Here's a picture, courtesy of the New York Times:

By "courtesy" I mean that I googled "Rick Santorum sweater vest" and that picture came up. I CTRL-S'd that shit.

That vest makes him look like a senior in college who was hazed mercilessly to get into his fraternity, and as a result, hazes the new guys with a brutality only witnessed when warlords storm nearby villages and leave no survivors.

His sweater vest is not my only problem though. The guy is a bigot, a homophobe, a racist, you-name-it, he is it. Provided what you name falls into one of those categories.

I'm in my final semester in college. The way my schedule falls I have to stay at school all day. I come in early and leave late. Because of this, I have to use the school gym. Yes, it's an adequate gym. But the gym is not the point, asshole!

The point is, I have to take a shower before I hole up in this library. I'm always the only one in the showers, but it got me thinking. What if another dude walked in, hanging brain, and started soaping up next to me? How comfortable would I feel?

I realized very quickly that I wouldn't care. It's not like I would talk to him or even make eye contact. He's showering, I'm showering. We're two naked dudes performing ball ablutions. However, I know it would bother some guys.

Guys like Rick Santorum.

Why he's bothered, I don't know. But here's what he said about gays in the military.

"During an appearance on Fox News Sunday in October, Santorum defended his support for Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell by arguing that gay soldiers would disrupt the military because “they’re in close quarters, they live with people, they obviously shower with people.” He also suggested that “there are people who were gay and lived the gay lifestyle and aren’t anymore.”

Leaving aside the fact that he thinks being gay is a choice (it isn't) his big concern is that gay guys may shower with straight guys and possibly make the straight guys uncomfortable? First of all, anyone who's bothered by it needs to get over it. I can almost guarantee you that if a guy knows you're straight he's not going to risk his life and career to get a hold of your sweet behind. It's plenty easier for him to get it elsewhere.

It's like downloading a torrent. Sure, I'd really like Photoshop, but aside from the legal issues that surround piracy, it's a pain in the ass to set up! Have you ever tried? You have to unpack files and assign them and find serial numbers. It's easier just to pay for it.

Wait? Am I suggesting that gay men should just pay for sex? No. Nevermind, you know what I mean.

Secondly, since it's established that he's not going to come after you, what if he does find you attractive? What if he goes home later and masturbates while imagining you standing in the shower all naked and soapy, your dog tags bouncing off your chest as you raise you arms to get that last bit of soap out?

So what?

I'd be flattered, frankly. I doubt if anyone has deposited me in their spank bank. I'm not like Brad Pitt who's in everyone's spank bank. He has assets that he deposits and they gain interest. Let me tell you. I'm like the kid who goes with his mom to open a checking account with a dollar to teach me about compound interest. No one wants to do business with me.

If I knew that someone jerked off to me, it'd make my day. I bet there are some masochists out there that have placed Santorum in their spank banks. That icks me out. His sweater vest heaving on top of you? No thanks, we can't cash that check here.

Ontologically Speaking...

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 15:12:00 +0000

My dog's version of the ontological argument goes as such: If there is a tennis ball of which no other tennis ball is greater, that tennis ball exists. SO GIVE IT TO ME NOW!

Remember Lyndon's Opinions?

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 17:59:00 +0000

http://lyndonandtheladybirds.blogspot.com/2011/12/real-quick.html
Remember when I said I was going to change this from Lyndon and the Ladybirds to Lyndon's Opinions? LULZ! I haven't done that yet because shit's been cray-cray. Be on the lookout, both of you.

Sorry

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 15:16:00 +0000

I apologize for that previous post. It wasn't funny. I only had about five minutes before I had to do something else and I wanted to get that idea off out of my head. If I had just let it gestate a little longer I may have come up with something funnier.

But probably not, because I thought about it a lot while I was tossing in bed with this shitty cold and I didn't come up with anything. Chain fight it is. Ugh.

You're Welcome? No Problem!

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 20:53:00 +0000

http://consumerist.com/2011/12/is-no-problem-a-suitable-substitute-for-youre-welcome.html

This is from the Consumerist:

People often complain that customer service reps sound like — and sometimes are — reading from a script. So while many of us appreciate it when we speak to someone who treats us in a less-stilted fashion, is there a point where a CSR's tone and diction can become too informal?

Consumerist reader Mike wrote in wanting to know:

“

When did "No Problem" replace "You're Welcome"? I recently spoke to a polite customer service rep and at the end of the call, after I said thank you, he replied with "No problem."

It seemed a touch impolite to me, but after asking other people — all of whom are younger than I — they said that they thought "no problem," was more polite than "you're welcome." Am I the one who's out of touch?

No. You're not out of touch. There are two possible responses to a thank you, and "no problem" is not one of them. They are either:

1. You're welcome.

2. OMG! You're deigning to speak to me! HOLY FUCK! PLEASE SIGN MY CAST! PLEASE SIGN MY CAST!

The second one should be used only if I thanked you for letting me kick your ass in a chain fight.

Pisstilation/The Trickle Down Effect

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 17:17:00 +0000

I'm very sick right now. I have a cold. The doctor says it's not pneumonia, but neumonia sans "p." This got me thinking, what if I created my own holistic remedy as a way to add the p, and hopefully heal faster.

Here goes. I call it the Trickle Down Effect:
You'll need two willing ladies with full bladders, one jar, one metal pot, and a stove.

One girl sits over a jar in a squat position while another girl sits on top of her in the same position.
They both pee at the same time.
The girl on top, her pee trickles down into the vagina of the other girl and both sets of pee trickle down into the jar. Then, you take the double piss jar and boil out all the water until you are left with only a crystallized urea substance on the bottom of the pot.
Next, you scrape that off and put it into some hot water to make a urea tea.
And then you drink it.
When you are finished, get the girls in the same position that they were before and this time pee onto the girl on top while she pees onto the girl on the bottom while that girl pees into a jar.
Repeat over and over.
Eventually you will have a very strong and very potent jar of piss crystals.

I call it Pisstilation and I'm selling jars of triple-evaporated piss crystals for $24.99 with free shipping.

Enjoy!

Cousin Into the World

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 21:26:00 +0000

via Life Quotes? What kind of low rent life quote is that?

Here are a few more Facebook updates from my wayward cousin.
http://lyndonandtheladybirds.blogspot.com/2011/09/school-startsit-begins.html
http://lyndonandtheladybirds.blogspot.com/2011/08/were-classy-bunch.html

She's been through a lot lately. I think she got a divorce. She's enrolled in cosmetology school. She's been out with her friends and taking the ubiquitous "duck face" shots. She's finding herself and using Lil' Wayne lyrics to express her frustration with her friends and lovers.

I am a proud cousin!

Nevermind. Why is the toilet a male?

That's just disgusting. No punctuation or anything.


Aren't bitches, by definition, down? Seems a bit tautological, cuz.

The radio won't even play her jam.

This is her jam, by the way.

This is either another of her jams or her tattoo artist's penis.

Good lord...

Halasalamaka what? Malcolm X just turned over in his grave. Peace be upon him, of course.

So, if you need a down ass bitch to do your hair, call Mr. Toilet and he'll set you up. Hasalalamakaad um!

Bilbo Bloggins

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 14:34:00 +0000

I am dictating this. I am not going to edit it. I think I'm going to write a book this summer. I finished reading Stephen Kings, on writing, and it really struck a chord with me. I've always wanted to write fiction. But I usually get stuck in a rut or just do things that have to do with me. Or school.

I am reading this as I dictate. It is really shitty. Oh well. Anyway, Stephen King says that you don't have to have a plot when you start out. And that has always been my problem. I think that I have to lay out all the characters in the plot and have something interesting to say start to finish. But, I don't have to.

I can just go as the spirit moves me and write and write every morning for a little while and see where I go. I'll be out of school by then and I will have mornings free I hope. Unless, you have a job for me? Pretty please?
So, this summer will be hopefully no, not hopefully, most definitely an exercise in novel writing. Or, at least a novella.

Did I really just use words like "hopefully" and "hopeful" and "hope" 5000 times? Am I that terrible of a writer? Perhaps. Or I'm just that terrible of the speaker.

It is always easy to fall into clichés and hackneyed phrases and stiff stiff writing. But that's what editing is for and I'm not going to edit this post. I think it will be really shitty if this post was just as good as my previous posts because usually I edit those pretty well.

Again, I apologize for the desultory nature of this post.

So Much Good Stuff

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 20:17:00 +0000

I'm finishing up my law school applications. This means I need to delve into my past, drudge up some shit about my family and hope they let me in. It's exasperating and cathartic. So, there's that. Speaking of my family, stay tuned for an all new Facebookin' With Ma Cuzzin
. There's some really good stuff. I mean, unbelievable.

Incommunicado

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 22:27:00 +0000

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good luck getting out your family's clutches long enough to get down to bar to hang out with your college buddies.
I've been thinking about technology lately and its implications on society. Why are people so afraid of/angry at texting and cell phones in general? By this I mean that the curmudgeons who write into their local newspaper editorial board constantly bemoan the rudeness and the general insensitivity people show when they're on their cell phones.

"They don't look where they're going!"
"Those people on their cell phones need to hang up and drive. More than once I've had to swerve to avoid being sideswiped by some texting fool!"

While it is probably not too safe to text and drive, texting and staring at one's cell phone is not indicative of a crumbling society. In fact, I think it just reaffirms that humans love to connect on a deep level. Texting is the new letter writing. There was a time in between the death of the eloquent longhand epistle (sometime in the sixties?) and texting where we could only communicate with the people in our immediate circle. We could call them, but generally immediate communications took place face to face.

When email, instant messages, text messages,and the IRC became popular in the 80s and 90s it created opportunities to communicate instantaneously with people around the world, people with whom we actually wish to talk to.

Texting is an extension of this. The fact that we have mobile devices that allow instant communications with our friends and family who happen to not live in our area just shows how starved we were to connect with our inner circle.

If those oldies had had iPhones in the 50s they would've used them just as prodigiously.
Technology is good, or at least neutral. Texting during dinner is certainly rude, but is not an indictment of an entire generation. I can't wait to see what I complain about when my kids are teens.

Ever Heard of Skrillex?

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 20:41:00 +0000

There was a huge sold-out show here in Tampa the other night. Skrillex (Sonny John Moore, according to Wikipedia) came to town and apparently rocked the house. Intrigued, I gave into the hype and sampled some of his music on iTunes. Good lord. It. Is. Shit.

It sounds like someone took Trent Reznor's "Other" folder of music off his Mac and threw it into GarageBand and hit play on all the tracks all at once. It sounds like a robot taking a shit. It's dubstep, apparently. Dubstep is a much-maligned genre of music that the young kids like. I have (had) nothing against it because I'd never actually taken the time to listen to it.
When people make fun of it on Twitter or Reddit, I ignore it in the same way I ignore posts about video games. However, if this is dubstep, dubstep sucks balls.

I'm not against electronic music. I like Kraftwerk and Nine Inch Nails, goddammit! I took my wife to see Girl Talk and I enjoyed it. But this, this is crap. And it's unbelievably popular.

Whatever. To each his own, but come on, young people. There's better music out there than Skrillex's Cacophony of Truck Nutz Hitting Pavement While Babies Scream.

Curmudgeon out.

Things That Annoy Me...Today

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 23:04:00 +0000

Here is a list of things that have been lodged in my brain, festering and waiting to be expelled.

1. Appearances Matter:
Just because your 100 pound pit bull is a sweet girl who wouldn't kill a soul doesn't mean that you should keep her off her leash while you wash your car. Calling it with trepidation as she ambles across the street toward me and my puppy is not effective. Keep that goddamn dog inside.

2. Collar Stay:

When I first started working out I put collars on my weights when I did the bench press. The one time I didn't some woman who worked at the gym walked by me and ushered a peremptory command. "I'd better see collars on those weights!" I dutifully obeyed. I jumped right up and put those clips on my meager weights.

Luckily I came to my senses.

You don't need to put collars on your bench weights.

Why? Because if you overestimate how much you can handle, even in a busy gym, and you can't tip the bar side-to-side, it'll fall on your neck and kill you.

I see people at the gym all the time who do this. It's irritating but I'm not going to be that guy who dispenses advice. Kill yourself for all I care. It'll make the gym less crowded.

3. Do I want to kill myself?
Do I like when people ask questions to a question? No. Does it make me want to claw their eyes out? Absolutely. Does it really annoy me when people answer their own questions with "definitely"? Definitely.

4. Christmas carols:
My last post was about Christmas carols and how I despise them. I still hate them and I can't wait for the New Year when all these fucks who love Christmas carols get their hands blown off while shooting bottle rockets at their neighbor's trailer.

Christmas Music

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 20:21:00 +0000

There are many things I would do to eliminate Christmas music. I hate it that much.

I would inflict a triple Holocaust on every child, puppy, and kitten in America if I didn't have to hear Brenda Lee warble, "Rocking around the Christmas tree have a happy holiday..." I would drill another couple of holes into my penis and put it on display in the window of Macy's in New York City on Christmas Eve so that no one would ever have to hear Sinatra belt out "Have yourself a merry little Christmas."

I would allow my firstborn child to be left in a manger scene in the middle of a Norwegian December so that no one will ever have to hear "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" ever again.

It's truly the least wonderful time of the year. I don't hate all the songs equally, however. I have three levels of hate for Christmas songs.

The first level are the songs that actually deal with the myth of Christmas. These include, O Holy Night, Silent Night, Joy to the World, etc. These I hate the least probably because they're the ones I hear the least. As we've become more secularized (taken the Christ out of Christmas perhaps?) these songs get fewer and fewer plays in the shopping malls, in the concert halls, be cool or be cast out. Wrong song.

The second level are the ones I just mentioned. These are the trite and vapid songs we've all heard thousands of times. Don't forget White Christmas, Silver Bells, and Up on the Rooftop. If your grandparents sang them in the 50's, they're probably in heavy rotation today. Also included in this second tier are the shitty "comic" songs like Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer and the songs that were written for terrible specials in the sixties. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman get thrown in this category.

The third and most hated level are the Christmas songs done by otherwise talented artists. I heard a song the other day I'm sure was Fountains of Wayne. Turns out, I was right. It's called "I Want an Alien for Christmas." It's typical of FOW's music, in that it's catchy and fun. But why do they sink to the bottom with this bullshit?

How about Scott Weiland? Have yourself a warbly little Christmas.I like STP. I'll admit it. They have some good songs. Big Bang Baby is catchy as hell. Yet, this shit sucks.

Frat boys love Jack Johnson. He's not my thing, but I have no animus toward him. Correction: had any animus toward him. He's giving us Johnsons a bad name.

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer sucks huge reindeer cock and always has. Only preschoolers think it's cute. Jack Johnson figured out a way to make it worse.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPp4zLj3208
How? By making it even more irritatingly whimsical and precious. I hope the next time he plays guitar with his bros at a bonfire his guitar acts as an accelerant and turns him into Christmas ash.

Ugh. Now I'm angry and disaffected. Kind of like the subject of this song.

Nowhere is the misfit or the dreamer so alone.

Real Quick

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sat, 03 Dec 2011 15:36:00 +0000

In a few weeks I'll be changing from lyndonandtheladybirds.blogspot.com to http://www.lyndonsopinions.blogspot.com Please change your bookmarks accordingly. I'll keep the same content, just a different name. See the post below for a fuller explanation. Type rest of the post here

Lyndon's Opinions

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 19:32:00 +0000

I've been doing this blog since, HOLY SHIT, December 12, 2007. I could've sworn that it was 2009 when I started this thing. No matter. I've decided to make a few changes. First of all, I'm changing the name to Lyndon's Opinions. I chose Lyndon and the Ladybirds because it was cute and I wanted it to be a collaboration with my wife, the honorable Ladybird Johnson. However, she has her own blog now and it is a style and food blog. It's awesome, but it's her thing. She's contributed a few things over the years, but not enough to call it a true collaboration. Therefore, I'm retiring the name Lyndon and the Ladybirds in order focus exclusively on my dumb rants.

I also enlisted Samuel Johnson, the real name of LBJ's bro, to write and collaborate. He has, like Ladybird, done his own thing. I am happy for him and wish him success. Both are always welcome to contribute. This name change reflects a new start.

For now I'm going to stick with blogger. Tumblr is easier to use and Wordpress has more features, but blogger is what I'm used to. If that changes you folks will be the first to know.

In the coming weeks I'm going to change the layout and the color scheme. This green has served me well, but it's time to mix it up. I'll update some links and provide some new links to new blogs and people I like.

Have you followed me on Twitter to get the latest news and funny stuff I say?

I'm also going to look into monetizing this blog with some Adwords. I asked a friend who has successfully monetized her blog what I needed to do. She had one initialism for me: S.E.O. Stop Eating Olives. I don't like olives, so I told her that I never ate them. She said that she was telling me this because my breath smelled like olives.

After I brushed my teeth, she gave me another initialism to ponder: S.E.O. "It's the same one, goddammit!" I yelled. However, this time she said it stands for Search Engine Optimization. The higher in the rankings I get my blog when someone searches for a term, the more money I make if they click on an advertisement on my page. Or something. Regardless, I know I need to buy some keywords, some adWords, that people will search for and I'll make some money.

Unfortunately, I can't afford Google's high prices for their words. So, I'm going to buy some Excite Exclamations!!!, some AltaVista MoneySeeMoneyDo Words, and Dogpile FiDoughs to make some money. Once I build my brand there, I'll move onto Google, Bing and Yahoo. Who am I kidding? Just Google.

Beeteedub, before Google I used all three of those sites. To search for porn....

Here are some words I've purchased:
Apple
Apple Computers
Ceramics
Etsy
E-Bay
Cockrings
Spinach Pie
IPhone
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Stupid Dog

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 19:59:00 +0000

So we got a new stupid dog. She's a stupid German Shepherd (we think) and she's annoying as fuck. Our friends found her wandering down the street like the stupid animal she is and they picked her up. The Ladybird thought her stupid face was cute so she stupidly took her home. Her stupid ear was flopped over for the first few days and then it finally perked up like the stupid ear that it should be. She eats stupid cat turds all the time and her breath smells like fucking shit. We have to walk her three or four times a stupid day and she likes to chase our stupid cats.

Today she shit in her cage like the stupid dog that she is. Everyone tells me she's going to be huge and so smart. I believe that. A giant dog that outsmarts me. Great. Stupid people are right. I can't get any of my stupid work done because she's annoying as piss.

I try not to compare her with my other stupid dog, Kitty, who died like an asshole last year, but I do. But this is a chance to get it right. Like the fucking dickass I was, I didn't give Kitty as much attention as I should have during her formative years. Luckily, that stupid dog loved my stupid face despite me treating her like a stupid bitch. I more than made up for it in the later years when I grew up and stopped being such a selfish dickface.

Anyway, this stupid fucking dog better realize what a good deal she has. We named her Annie. Isn't that a stupidly cute name? Fucking Annie is such a stupid dog and that stupid name fits her like a glove. Too bad she doesn't understand her dumb name yet. Fucking stupid dog. I told Annie I'd take her for a stupid walk later. This walk will, inevitably, waste my stupid time because it'll take me away from my school work. Did I mention I have a fucking gay thesis due? I don't mean gay like two stupid homos being fabulous on each other, but gay like, "this thesis is the gayest shit that I've ever attempted and this stupid gay dog is causing me much stupid consternation."

My stupid cats are freaked out because Annie chases them and then they hiss and swat. Which is fine, but it's irritating when I have to rush to find the stupid water bottle so I can spray their stupid asses. Also, when I take her for a stupid walk I have to talk to my stupid neighbors with whom I have nothing in common. I didn't mind waving like jerks, but conversing like idiots when I have Twitter to get back to? No thanks. How about those stupid poo bags? Like a good neighbor, I stupidly pick up my dog's shit like a dumbass. Whatever, the more she poops outside the less she poops inside.

Finally, these stupid vets are goddamned expensive. These fucking gay vets want to give her an MRI to check for stupid preemptive hip displacia. Why the fuck would I do that? She's a stupid little puppy who annoys me to death. She's not going to have hip problems for years, as long as she doesn't kill herself by eating some stupid bullshit. I'm not going to drop $1100 on corrective surgery for her stupid hip and put her through that stupid recovery. She's already going to be uncomfortable like a wuss when we get her spayed.

Anyway, here's a stupid picture.

There's nothing here.
Told you, stupid.

Facebook, Shoes, and Jon Hamm

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 14:25:00 +0000

It's time for a break from Facebook. The mundane and pedestrian aspects of people's lives were eclipsing my own true understanding of a how a real relationship should operate. Take my cousin, for example. I get some kind of perverse joy out of watching the freak show that is her life. It's not Schadenfreude per se, but it entertains my to no end to watch her simply live. How she lives her life act in some ways as a warning as to how my life could have ended up. But it's not really who she is. She's a composite of many different parts and not the singular train wreck I make her out to be.

Nevertheless, the endless stream of meaningless chatter from everyone was getting too much to bear especially when I have so many other things going on. Not only was there too much stuff that didn't matter, it comes from the same five or six people that I have spoken with maybe two times! These people are nice, intelligent, feeling people but Facebook amplifies that one aspect of their personality so much that it becomes untenable. These people fit into the neatly defined categories they have cultivated for themselves. Perhaps they have had them cultivated for them as a pattern emerges due to what they post, but the outcome is the same. They become, in some sense, one-dimensional. For example, there's the "complainer" friend, or the "political" friend, or the "angry" friend, or the "LOL" friend. I have to disassociate myself from these people because if I don't, then that is how I will come to view them; not as whole individual whose company I enjoy on occasion, but as dogmatic pedants whose company I could live without.

Aside from this, I felt a compulsion to check Facebook multiple times a day. And there was never anything new under the sun. It was a feeling similar to when I smoked. Even when I wasn't smoking there was a nagging urge to have a cigarette, or make sure I had enough to get me through the day, or I had enough money, ad infinitum. This compulsion is scary to me because it's one step away from a full-blown addiction, in my mind at least. I had to cut it off at the pass and be disciplined enough to tell myself that Facebook is usually pretty boring and knowing more than I ever wanted to know about someone I barely like takes up valuable real estate in my head.

I'm not going to delete my account though. I'm just going to check it far less. Anyone who wants to contact me knows how and anyone who doesn't know how except through Facebook is out of luck.

A few more things:
1. The term "lady boner" is stupid. Ladies, stop using it. Guys, stop encouraging it.

2. I shined up my shoes and they are jammin'. I'm a regular Andy Dwyer. Here be pics.

Before

After

3. Jon Hamm is awesome. I love Mad Men, but on the WTF podcast he comes off as a really smart, cool dude. The actor he wants to emulate most is Jeff Bridges, go figure. Kudos to Jon Hamm!
Listen to it here.

School Starts...It Begins!

noreply@blogger.com (Lyndon) — Sat, 24 Sep 2011 14:17:00 +0000

School has started. This means I'll be posting much less frequently. But don't fret! Here is a quote from my cousin's Facebook page. I derive endless fun from her posts.

I guess I should say briefly that I don't hate my cousin. We're related and I wish the best for her. However, her life choices drive me nuts and her internet demeanor is unintentionally hilarious. Ergo, I must share this hilarity with both of my readers.

You could say that, but you'd be wrong and deserve heaps of scorn.

I have nothing left to post! Please don't click or you'll be disappointed!