Monday, July 31, 2017

Question: What are your thoughts on the Ready Player One trailer?

I might just be a total fool, but I don't remember that big-ass chase scene from the book. Even if it's in there - or even symbolically in there - I didn't enjoy the trailer very much because that action scene in no way represents a single one of the great ideas/legitimate reasons to be interested in this adaptation.

I would have much preferred a throwback style trailer about old video games and his actual adventures in the Oasis while he's searching for...whatever spoilery Macguffin he's searching for.

I fear that they think this book was good because of all the random pop-culture elements, but that shit does not a story make. I also believe that nostalgia is far more powerful than CG bullshit.

Like most digital worlds, it will be hard to know how we accept them until we're completely surrounded, deep in the bowels of the film. Hopefully it won't be too distracting to our eyeholes, and they'll keep the focus on the great story.

Short Answer: Still lots of hope. I thought the real world looked awesome. If it veers more Stranger Things than first glance, I think it could still be great. I am a little worried that they're going to rush through the first act of the book to get to 'better stuff' and that would be a mistake.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Question: Should I punch kurt Buttner in the face? or instead should I donate $34 to a charity of Evan's choice?

You should definitely punch Kurt Facener in the butt.
You should definitely butt Kurt Punchner in the face.
You should definitely face Butt Kurtner in the punch.

That's probably about as far as that can go.

I say go with the charity thing for sure. I mean, it's not like Evan can pick a bad one. At least some of the money will end up in the hands of someone who needs it, or the person who's taking way too much of a cut to 'help' others.

As for German entomologist Kurt Buttner, you should probably leave his face alone. Punching people doesn't do a whole lot of good, and it hurts your hand a lot more than you might think. If you don't know how to punch properly, you'll really hurt your wrist or fingers on Buttner's face.

You'll really hurt your butt or wrist on Fingerner's face.
You'll really hurt your wrist or face on Facener's fingers.
You'll really hurt your face or fingers on Wristner's butt.

Short Answer: Chortle. What fun.

Saturday, July 29, 2017

Question: I'm getting fed up with your attitude.....?

You're obviously a regular reader. I can tell because of the sneaky question mark. I'll assume you aren't questioning yourself, and just adhering to my rules.


I can also tell based on the mildness of the comment that you're not being serious. Here's the kind of question I get from people who don't like my blog. "You should fuck off and die, you talentless hack. Fuck you. I hope your sister gets ass cancer. Peace!"

So you're obviously not fed up with my attitude. And if you truly are, you should look inward and figure out why. Because my attitude is awesome.

Here's a sentence I've put together to describe my attitude, for people who don't know me and haven't read my blog.

Me: "I'd like to divorce my wife and marry a cartoon dog."

Short Answer: I like your attitude. I always have.

Friday, July 28, 2017

Question: If the Golden Girls entered the Octagon for a 4 way title fight, how would that fight play out?

That's more of a wrestling thing, so it surprises me a little that you think the rules of the 'Octagon' are going to be important in resolving this. We wanna make sure no old ladies kick each other in the old lady balls, I guess.

I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this is a Bea Arthur beatdown A slaughterhouse of blue hair and depends as Bea Arthur obliterates all-comers.

Hey, I want to believe that Estelle Getty is like the old man ninja, too, that she's waiting off to the side, looking for her moment to do something awesome. But it ain't happening. Bea Arthur will devour her.

As for the others, funny don't beat monsters. Trust me, I've tried.

Short Answer: Bea Arthur turns the others into a boxed lunch in round one.

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Question: Define "treedumpment"

Not only is there no question mark, I apparently don't deserve any sort of punctuation at all. Is this the end of a sentence? Is it?

This was bound to happen. I blame youths.

I hate to be unoriginal, but I must be honest. Does anyone read this word and not think of taking a dump next to a tree in the woods? Say it in whatever context you see fit, treedumpment is definitely the accomplishment of doing it bear-style. (No, not wiping your ass with a passing squirrel. Keep up!)

Another thought is that 'trump' is in there, somewhere. Like the deep, meaningless sense of bewilderment you feel when he takes a verbal dump. "That thing he said about transgender people in the military is the worst treedumpment yet!"

Short Answer: Maybe if I heard this word, rather than saw it spelled out, I might think someone was offering me a maple syrup flavored candy.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Question: Synthetic aperture radar or just fuck it and hike them salt domes?

Someone's about to be disappointed.

And by someone I mean everyone. I know what an SAR is, and I know what a salt dome is. That's it. I know those things. What this is in reference to, I do not know.

From what I can gather, there is some situation where you A) Hike over salt domes or B) Have the option to avoid them by using radar. The question becomes, why are you avoiding salt domes? Is this about expense in some way? I'm lost.

What a funny answer. Here's a question. Does this have something to do with mining? I'll wait.

...salt domes are pretty sometimes...I don't much like hiking...mountain x-ray...

No answer? That's cool. Figuring out how to answer me without the laws of time and space on your side is tough. Now you know how I felt when I read this question.

Short Answer: Aaaaaandd poop, boobs, poop poop boobs, poopy poopy poopy poopy pooopy poopy boobs.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Question: I can ask you anything? Anything?!!!

2360 previous posts would suggest that yes, you can in fact ask me anything. Even this. Twice.

Short Answer: Most days, I'd rather be having sex with a  lukewarm cheeseburger than doing this.

Monday, July 24, 2017

Question: Where's the weirdest place you've masturbated?

Is this what we want to know about Keith? Really?

I'm about to disappoint you. I don't get off on touching myself in weird locales or situations. Masturbation for me is like maintenance work. I do it once a day to keep the pipes from a'cloggin'.

The weirdest place I've ever masturbated is tame, but it does come with a story.

I was a late-term masturbater, and the first time I ever wrangled myself to completion it was a mistake. I was in a situation where people were getting naked. I was young and embarrassed that my penis size wouldn't be up to snuff. (I'm on the very upper end of the grower/shower spectrum. I grow so much, in fact, that watching me getting erections is like getting a surprise, 3D screening of The Howling.)

I ducked into one of those city parks, a place with a bench and a little creek and some trees, fabricated to break-up the monotony of all things, and did what I knew would work. If I touched myself some, my penis would get bigger. My semi is a whole lot more impressive than my typical resting state, so this was a good plan. Only, I was in a hurry.

You get the rest. Needless to say, I didn't end up showing my once again flaccid penis to anyone that night.

Short Answer: Bonus Top Ten: Things Girls Have Actually Said to Me Upon Seeing My Disproportionate Erection-Ratio-Situation

10) "Wow!"
9) "This could be an issue."
8) "It's like a muppet."
7) "How do you live with those things?"
6) "Fucking hello!"
5) "Holy shit. I was worried for a second. Did that hurt?"
4) "(laughing) That's...that's a monster, dude."
3) "Where did that come from?"
2) "You just went from bunny slope to black diamond."
1) "Huh. Melissa was right."

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Question: Jon's butt Rick?

I want to believe this happens rarely. I like to think that I 'get' things. That I'm down with the hep cats. That I'm in the know, in the now, and down with the relative sickness.

I have no idea what this means. My first thought was that it could be from the new season of Rick and Morty which I haven't yet seen, but googly-eye searches have found no proof of that.

My next thought was that this could be a question from one of my Newfie kin, possible referencing a town name. They have funny town names there. Example: Joe Batt's Arm. Further Example: Dildo.

Major John Buttrick did something in the Battle of Concord in 1775. Probably not related.

So here we are. I'm disappointed. You're salivating for comedy. And the poor person who asked this question probably thought, 'This is brilliant. No way he doesn't know what I'm saying.'

Now, to do my best with what we have. If Jon has a butt, and he named it Rick, Jon is hilarious. That's my opinion on that.

Short Answer: I don't think I've ever had less of clue what a question meant. Even when I get drunk-texted questions I can decipher some meaning. This one has baffled me.

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Question: If one were forced to get a colostomy bag, what fun things could they use their now jobless anus/butt for?

What a coincidence! Jobless Anus/Butt is the name of my band!
What a coincidence! Jobless Anus/Butt is the name of my autobiography!
What a coincidence! Jobless Anus/Butt is what my mom calls me in company!
What a coincidence! Jobless Anus/Butt is what I say to my wife after mediocre vaginal intercourse!

I'm not sure what you want from me here. You and I both know that butts are for two things. Pooping and cramming stuff. So if you're not pooping with it, your options are limited to cramming.

Jobless Anus/Butt? Sounds like the name of my newest porno!

Just for the record, carrying around a bag of your shit isn't at all cool. That kinda sounds like a harsh, schoolyard insult come true in an alarmingly accurate fashion.

Jobless Anus/Butt? Where do I sign up?

This would be great if it was a concert. Jobless Anus with Guest Star: Butt.

Is that enough?

Short Answer: I've never been a big fan of having things in my butt, except on certain specific, sweaty occasions when it all of a sudden becomes very important that we multi-knuckle that fucker to get the angry jizzum out sideways.

Friday, July 21, 2017

Question: Summer Shandy, Fall Apple Cider, Winter Mulled Wine, or Spring Cocktail?

Feels like some real thought went into this, so it makes me sad that my answer is so simple. To honor the effort, let's go through each one.

Fall Apple Cider: Apples give me diarrhea. If this is referring to the fermented kind of cider, that ain't so bad, but I'm always disappointed by the lack of big fruit flavor in ciders. They're too dry!

Winter Mulled Wine: I like wine, and I like spices. This can definitely hit the spot, and makes me feel like I'm tasting something old and special. Like getting a good lick at an elephant's ball sack.

Spring Cocktail: I guess it depends on the cocktail. Lots are good. Many better than the aforementioned bag of pachyderm nuts.

Summer Shandy: I shandy all year, baby. If you read this blog on the regular, you'll have noticed my proclivity for the shandy. In particular, a wheat beer plus a sparkling lemonade, about fifty-fifty. That shit is the pants down winner!

Short Answer: 'That shit is the pants down winner' can read a lot like a typo about pants-shitting.

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Question: Kathy Bates, Emo Philips, Ted Danson - Which one would you awkwardly junior high dance with (boner included)? Which one would you sensually rub with soft cheese and tuna? and which one would you abandon in a Black Friday Door Crasher line-up with no means of defense?

Because this is crazy, I'll try to find some parallels in reality.

You're kinda doing marry, fuck, kill. I guess the boner dance is the fucking, the line-up is the killing and, by default, the cheese/fish scenario is the marrying. (It makes sense. Rubbing things on people is tender, and denotes a lifetime commitment.)

So with those guidelines, let it be known that I think Kathy Bates is a tremendous actor. Because of this, I don't want her to die. She's also the only female - my particular sexual proclivity - so boners against her wouldn't be so bad. And because I'm a fan, marrying her wouldn't be so bad.


I don't want to spread cheese and tuna on her! That's gross. So she gets the boner dance.

The rest is simple. Ted Danson gets the rub down, because he's the least gross. Emo Philips sucks and can die, so he can take Black Friday to the dome.

Short Answer: Outside of this scenario, I don't think Emo Philips should die. I get his value. But I didn't actually know his name, and was hoping this was the hot blonde from Wilson Phillips. That got him crushed in a capitalist riot, I'm afraid.

Note: Just looked up Chynna Phillips. She might have been aided in her hotness by that whole 'standing next to uggos' phenomenon.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Question: Bill Cosby....thoughts?

I think we're all sad when our heroes turn out to be flawed.

And with that general statement we can easily shift into the fact that Bill Cosby has not actually been convicted of any crime.

But as they say, where there's smoke, he raped some people.

Short Answer: He ruined sweaters for me.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Question: Pants?

This turned out to be a lot of work. I knew I'd written about pants before, so I did some blog searching. Turns out, there are a lot of pants posts, so I'm going to do something a little different today.

There. That's the link to the 'pants' search on my blog. It turned up some real beauties. So take your pick.

Short Answer: Generally, no.

Note: This post actually shows up in that link now, because magic. Don't be fooled and click the link within the link, or you'll end up in a never ending loop.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Question: Sunday Freeday?

Someone should 'ask' me this question once a week.

Here's some insight into my little world. I'd say at least 3 days a week, I sit here trying to remember a thing I thought of earlier. And by earlier I mean that half-awake, mid-morning dream state that allows your brain to make magical flips of reasoning and bold strides of creativity, unencumbered by complete awakeyness.

Most days I can't remember. Some days I remember and the line or joke I thought was gonna be great is total shit, and has no real meaning. Like, "Grover Socks is a sick name for a band."

This morning, I was being wise in my subconscious, and I came up with this tidbit: Jobs and work are different. A job is what you do to make money. Work is having to get out of bed to go to your stupid shitty job.

That's not bad for not a single thread of conscious, intelligent thought.

I think I agree with Dream Keith. The hardest thing many people do on any given day is overcoming the desire to stay in bed. I thank my busty stars everyday that I'm not faced with that decision. The ability to lounge around, letting my creativity snuggle, is a true blessing. I've come up with some of my best ideas in that warm, calm, morning haven. Such as:

The Baloney Toad
Two-ended matches
The tall thin gate
Soup technique
Gary the Effortless Asiatic Menace
The bindle revival
Eggs Benefactor
Homeless nudists
The Purple Penis Eater
Calvin going to therapy to rid himself of Hobbes, then discovering the wisdom of Leviathan
Stump sucking
Doing cocaine from the cap of a pen
The porn name Tunt Billington Comely Esquire

Short Answer: Funny to claim these were subconscious jokes, because they're actually a child of the other well I draw upon: saying crazy shit with absolutely no forethought whatsoever. Yes, my brain makes up this stuff on a loop, even when I'm trying to be a real boy. Sometimes, it's great. Other times, when Shartnado pops into your head while making love to your wife, things can get a bit hairy.

Note: It's no joke. Tunt Billington Comely Esquire was a moment of pure creation. Snack on that, all you other motherfuckers.

Saturday, July 15, 2017

Question: I'm at a public toilet. Do I peek or just flush?

I'm not sure exactly where you are in the washroom, or what the timing is, here. My first thought is that you're in the stall, finishing up a poop, and you're wondering if you should look under the stall at the next guy.

My first question, assuming I'm somewhere close to the mark, is do you like watching other guys poop? If you do, this answer writes itself.

Because you asked for my advice, let's go with the angle that you're just a curious fellow. If that's the case, this is a privacy issue. Do you care about the other person's privacy? Privacy in general? Do you fear getting caught, the wide-eye between the crack, peering in at someone's most private of moments?

Scratch that. I just got the question. You're just referring to whether or not you should peek at your own dump. I see it, now.

This one's easy. The fact that you specifically mentioned that you were in a public toilet means that you're having an unwanted away game. This probably means a surprise poop, maybe even a wet one that caught you off guard. In this case: Do Not Look!

Short Answer: That's a weird phenomenon. Sometimes I get the thrust of the question wrong, but rarely do I realize halfway through. What a treat!

Note: I just had another thought. Is it possible that you're just entering the stall, wondering if you should see what the carnage is before you do a pre-sit flush? Perhaps...

Friday, July 14, 2017

Question: Pink versus Purple?

Stink or nurple?

That wasn't an answer. I just thought of it, and the sentence needed to exist. Where else were you going to read, 'stink or nurple' today? It was my duty.

I might be off base, here, but this makes me think about vaginas and penises. Pink is the defacto color of most lady parts, and purple the color of most to all wangers. This makes any versus scenario pretty tough, as both things work together to make a sploogey.

If this is supposed to be a women versus men question, you've barked up the wrong mixed metaphor with this dude. I have no desire to extend my toe into the lava pit that is gender/sex politics at the moment. Way too many sensitive, defensive crazy people out there.

So let's find some other ways to compare beaves and pokers.

One: The cootch is an inny, the ding-dong is an outie. Advantage snatch, because it's way easier to keep that in your pantaloons.

Two: The clam bleeds once a month, the cock only bleeds if something terrible is happening. Advantage wiener.

Three: Vags look pretty good. Hogs look super goofy. Advantage willy, 'cause goofy shit is the best.

Anything else important about the difference between pusses and dick? Probably not. Let's take the question from a true versus standpoint, and try to figure out which one would win in a fight. No, no, the minute I say this I realize I'm faced with a difficult question. Are the balls involved? Because advantage goes to the balls, am I right? Am I? Anyone? Mom?

Short Answer: I have no idea what this question meant, and I'm almost positive it was in no way about genitals. I like the color pink slightly more than the color purple, if that means anything to you. (The real truth is I like them about the same amount as I like 'getting them' at the same time. Get it? You get it.)

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Question: Have you ever "dream cheated" on your wife? Did you tell her about it?

This question almost made me laugh, because it implies that there are people out there who don't dream cheat on their wife, and keep secrets when they do.

That had not occurred to me before. Why?

Because in my dreams I fuck everything and everyone. I have explicit dreams of fucking strangers, old girlfriends, current girlfriends, famous people, the lady at the deli; you name it, I've fucked it.

Sometimes my wife watches me fuck these people. Sometimes she's involved in a three-way type capacity. Sometimes she morphs into the other person, or the person morphs into her. I like her a great deal, so she's welcome in my dream escapades, especially if she's approving with nods or face-fucking.

Now let me ask you a question. Do you 'dream cheat' but not tell your wife? And if so, is that because you're afraid she'll get mad at you? If so, here's a little free advice. If your wife gets mad at you for what your subconscious does, divorce her immediately. Not a joke.

Short Answer: I tell my wife everything because that's how a happy marriage works. Communication. We're open about all the stuffs. I even masturbate while my wife is in the next room, listening. That's also how a marriage works: sex in separate rooms.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Question: What are your favorite songs RIGHT NOW!???

Thanks for the three question marks. No doubt you're asking me a question. Also, you might have a capitals problem. You should probably look into cyber-anger management. It's better than anger management in real life because you can have a tab or two of porn open while taking the course.

I wonder what percentage of people have porn open on their computer when they're doing something else?


Well, not quite. But people love porn. Wish we all talked about it more. I don't watch anything overtly shameful, but I still feel weird if I start talking about a scene I just watched. And all the people at my cousin's wedding felt weird too, I guess.

Right now, huh? I guess you mean what's been stuck in my head as of late? Or what songs have I grown to have a new appreciation of? (This is a weird way to get something to listen to while you're masturbating, by the way. Or whatever you do on the internet while listening to music. Wink.)

Life on Mars by Bowie is always in my top tunes, and it's showed up again recently as I was comparing the original mix to the 2016 version. (I like the original. It's muddier.)

Been loving the music in Twin Peaks. Tarifa by Sharon Van Etten, She's Gone Away by Nine Inch Nails, and Shadow by Chromatics in particular.

Others stuffs:

Dry the Rain by the Beta Band
Day is Done by Nick Drake
I Wouldn't Want to be Like You by The Alan Parsons Project
River of Deceit by Mad Season
Little of Your Love by Haim
All Apologies by Nirvana

Short Answer: There you go. That's a nice little list of ten if you want to get into some me music today. Pretty sure it's all on the YouTube.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Question: What are your thoughts on fisting?

I gotta be honest, I'm more of a high-fiver. I find fisting only works with certain people. Like, old people don't get fisting at all. Slightly younger people sort of like fisting, but they prefer a solid handshake. Then there's this grey area, fisting-crowd generation, mixed in with the high-fivers. As for the youths, I don't know how much fisting they do. I assume they don't think it's cool anymore and have moved onto something more complicated.

I don't really fist with anyone. I don't fist my mom or my grandmother (though I think she'd be into it), and I don't fist with my brother. I'll do the devil horns sometimes, if the situation is appropriate. I guess I'm more of a two-finger guy all-in-all. Though sometimes I will throw my thumb in there.

Short Answer:
Image result for i was fisted once background

Monday, July 10, 2017

Question: Give me three reasons why I shouldn't kick your ass, nerd!

I'm going to have to start a new blog called 'State Anything to Keith, Maybe With an Exclamation Point, But Definitely Not a Question Mark, 'Cause He Don't Answer No Questions, Fool.'

Or something like that.

Three reasons why you shouldn't kick my ass? Three? I could give you three thousand.

3) You'll go to jail. People seem to forget this, with all of their aggressive posturing in the face of conflict. If you hit someone, that's assault, and you can go to jail for a long time. It blows my mind in rage incidents that people manage to forget that their whole life could be destroyed by their lack of control. You could be a fine, upstanding citizen, who's never even considered the possibility of being jailed. Then, you throw one punch because someone cut you off in traffic and your tiny ego can't handle it, and it's off to the hoosegow.

2) I'm awesome. Why would you want to kick my ass? I don't tell people what to do, and I make most people laugh. Even if you don't like my blog, I dare you not to think I'm funny in person. I'm a hoot! I swear a lot, say the word 'poop' with unmatched vigor, and have a tendency not to fuck your girlfriend. (One of those things was a lie.Tee-hee!)

1) Things might not go the way you envision. I'm not a highly trained martial artist. But I was a very impressive and creative athlete, and my brain works quickly. There's a possibility that in a fight, where I'm calm and collected, and you're losing your mind, that I'm going to apply the few things I do know, and embarrass you in front of your girlfriend that I fucked.

Short Answer: All jokes aside, girls like me. Your mom, your's a risky game beating up this nerd. You'd have to beat my dick awfully hard for me not to get some serious revenge. So remember, if you're coming after Keith, make sure to beat my dick.

Sunday, July 9, 2017

Question: Can you decipher my code? DTZFWJFKFYHMTIJ

When most people think cipher, they either go with a password ciper or what's called Caesar code, which is traditionally replacing alphabetic values with letters that are three steps away.

Starting with that, it was easy to figure out that you have a five letter cipher going. (You wouldn't have done this if you didn't want me to figure it out, and I was never going to guess a password, right?) So if A=F...

Here's your message:

You are a fat chode.


Short Answer: I'm actually most impressed by the use of the word chode. I think the full eclipse of chode by the word 'taint' is a little disappointing. I also like that you chose chode because as I was translating, I would've guessed a lot of other insults coming down the pipeline, like piece of shit or motherfucker. This one held me in suspense until somewhere between the H and the O.

Note: Remember that chode is short for choda? Choda! Don't hear that anymore.

Saturday, July 8, 2017

Question: Fruitcake anyone?

Boy, that's a hard sell.

My friend (who likely asked me this question) hired Timbaland a few years ago to help bring Fruitcakeback.


He candies/bottles/cans his own fruit, and I think he elbow-grinds the cake parts. I know for sure that he bathes the fucker in rum over and over again, like a six-month turkey baste.


The result is something very different than the doorstop fruitcake we're all accustomed to. The thing he makes as actually like a food. But even upon hearing the process and jumping on board his excitement train, its still hard to believe that fruitcake can be good.

Take it to the chorus.

When I was growing up, giving a fruitcake to someone - especially if it wasn't Christmas - was like telling the person you hated their whole family, and wished ill upon three consecutive generations. When we'd receive a fruitcake, we'd play a game called, 'now let's eat bricks' and we'd eat bricks instead.

Short Answer: It needs to be moist-ier, and it needs to have proper fruit, not those weird, hard troll testicle things. (Trolls have square testicles. You didn't know that? Ya idiot!)

Note/Fun Fact: Fruitcakes can be made over the span of years. My buddy has a cycle of one-year, two-year, and I think three-year fruitcakes. You just keep adding booze so they don't ever go bad. It's magical, because they slowly morph into a completely different kind of thing that's actually good.

Friday, July 7, 2017

Question: Can you come up with 5 cocktails, including recipe descriptions, that have names which when ordered could be mistaken for something dirty (sexy dirty / not dirt dirty)?

Oh, boy. The difference between sexy dirty and dirty dirty is a fine line for some. I get what you mean, you don't want the Dust Devil cocktail, but that doesn't mean the Felcher (Kahlua and clotted cream) isn't pretty fucking dirty and very, very un-sexy.

I'm gonna try to do this the way you want, and avoid my instincts. (Instinct example: Clamato, vodka, 2% milk and a raw egg: Sex on the Period.)

Here are five sexy cocktails, the kind that might make a woman a little horny. Not the kind that will send her running for the door. (Like the Sweaty Ballsack: gin, hose water and a pube.)

Okay, okay, here we go.

The Asshopper: Like a traditional Grasshopper, which is equal parts cream, creme de menthe and creme de cacoa. Instead, for the Asshopper, you change the proportions to be 3 parts chocolate liquor rather than 1. Making it browner.

(Damn. That's not sexy either, is it? Maybe I'm not good with sexy. Maybe you asked a guy who's good at poop jokes to be sexy-funny. Maybe you are the one who's made a mistake, here.)

Let's try again.

The Plan B: This is sexy, cause you know she'll take care of that shit when and if the condom breaks. It's a tumbler with three ounces of tequila, a lime wedge and four Vicodin. (Yes, she knows there's Vicodin in it. I'm not making a cocktail called the Cosby. Geez.) Anyway, after a few of these, her body will be so toxic that no sperm can survive, nor can any egg take purchase on her uterine wall. Sexy!

(Okay. That was bad, too. Oh, look! That's five cocktails!)

Short Answer: Did you really think I'd come up with a yummy drink with a coy title? Really? Oh, you did? Goddammit.

The Harvey Fingerbanger: vodka and orange juice, but instead of Galliano, some orea cookie crumbs to look like dirt under the fingernails.

Note: Fuck me! I was actually going to make up five cocktails at the end of this. I'm kind of a culinary guy, so I thought I could. But every time I try to think of a sexy name I think of something filthy, and then the cocktail gets totally gross. Bail!

Thursday, July 6, 2017

Question: Do you ever get the feeling that I'm watching you sit at your computer from the other end of the room through your sliding glass patio door right now?

First of all, kudos on coming up with an interesting angle.

Now, to address this insanity.

I don't have glass patio doors.

No, no, I'm just kidding! I do! Wouldn't that have sucked? I could've just bailed right there, and the person who asked this question would be totally boned! He'd have no way of arguing that I do, in fact, have glass patio doors! Ha!

Okay, now for the truth. When I get a question through my site, it tells me the time it was sent. I wasn't at my computer when this was sent. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, that though you claim in your question to be watching me at that very minute (liar), you could've asked the question slightly before or slightly after. But I'm guessing it was around that time, if you had the balls to claim it was happening at that very moment. I was cooking, and I was back and forth between the kitchen and the living room. Because one of those journeys forces me to face the sliding doors, I would've seen you. Even had it been at night, pretty hard to hide behind glass, therefore hard to do as you've claimed without notice. Maybe if you caught me masturbating I might not notice you...

Short Answer: I guess try that next time. I'm usually masturbating anywhere between all the time and whenever.

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Question: Tell me what you think about Destiny's Child.


Short Answer: Ugh. Now I feel like a lazy piece of shit. All right. First of all, no question mark means you suck butts. I don't give two shits about Destiny's Child. I thought their music was crap. Beyonce, on the other hand, has some pretty sweet tunes. Turns out people like her a great deal. That enough? Jesus.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Question: If I asked you a mathematical equation, could you answer?

Is that the vernacular? "I'd like to ask you an equation, madam, of the math variety."

Of course I could. But why would you do that? That's boring, even for people who love math. Here, let's do the non-math version of a question with only one answer.

Hey, Ask Keith Anything, is the sky blue?

Answer: Yes.

What fun?

Stuff your math question.

Short Answer: E=MC owned.

Monday, July 3, 2017

Question: Where'd ya get that hat?

You must be talking to someone else's head.

I've always wanted to be a hat guy. I think it has something to do with all the hereditary baldness in my family. I've been assuming since a young age that one day I'd need to style up my glaring pate.

The only hats that look even semi-normal on me are baseball hats. Fedoras make me look like a rat-pack inspired rape artist, sun hats make me look like a Beach Boys inspired rape victim, and cowboy hats make me look like my singing voice is more pleasant than it is. (This has led to a couple of campfire dust-ups.)

I think the only interesting hat story I have to tell is about my current hat. It's a garage style Metallica hat. I found one in a discount bin nearly twenty years ago, wore it until it 'faded from black' to a sun-burnt, sweat-stained, non-color that looked like an impending bruise. One day, when I was desperately in need of a hat retirement ceremony, my brother showed up and handed me the exact same hat! He'd found it brand new in some discount bin! I've worn 'Garage Hat Revisited' for even longer than I wore the first one. It looks like something that a homeless person might dig out of a poop while looking for corn kernels, but I still wear it.

Short Answer: I have a weird head-to-body ratio. 1 to 1. (I meant, how many. Did you just picture me with a head as big as a body? Silly!)

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Question: I don't think people like it when I tell them my dreams. You?

Way to turn a statement into a question at the last second.

Yea, I've noticed this. Sometimes that's because people are stupid and they don't realize their dreams aren't very complex or interesting. Other times, it's because dreams don't have much narrative structure, which is pretty crucial to storytelling.

Having said that, sometimes I have dreams that objectively seem a step crazier than most. Here's a recent one, broken down into into its simplest parts with little detail added.


Watching a concert with a friend, then get lost leaving. Let loose a plague of flies by opening an old tennis ball can. Get congratulated for our jiu-jitsu performance. Outside, they're arresting people. My friend gets taken, so I spend some days on the streets with a homeless person, just blending in.

Meanwhile in NFLD, I'm being given some strange, detective-like errands to accomplish. My new songs are a hit, and I'm trying to pick out a cute outfit while Sean Penn reads my poetry aloud to rave reviews. Finally, I text my uncle to let him know I'm in town.

We've established that people have crazy dreams, and retelling them is often boring and dumb. But this whole sequence struck me as special. It kinda felt like there was the opposite of narrative structure. At no point was anything explained. Nothing followed a logical path. It was a dream of situations, then emotions, then time passing, loosely held together by shifting locales. Again, that's not uncommon for dreams. But this, for me, was an excessive amount.

Let's recap.

Concerts, getting lost, starting a plague, receiving a compliment from a friend's father, jiu-jitsu, running from the cops, becoming homeless, writing a hit album, becoming a popular poet, trying on different belts to match my blouse, being a detective, the excitement of seeing my family.

In a row.

Now how the fuck am I supposed to look at that and trace where it all comes from?

Short Answer: I'm mad. If you read this and think, "I have dreams as crazy as this," then you're mad too. Let's get lunch.

Saturday, July 1, 2017

Question: What are you doing for Canada Day?

I've decided to spend a little time with my international friends.

English friend...pints and kebabs?
Australian friend...a barbecue that starts with shrimp, then - if I understand correctly - grilled dingo with a baby stuffed inside?
French friend...cigarettes and baguettes?
Russian They really like vodka.
Mexican friend...wall-climbing class.
American friend...sitting down with different opinions but not having a civil conversation?
Swiss friend...chocolate watches!
Portuguese friend...boiled tripe and...tripe salad?
Scottish friend...haggis and no-underwear skirts?
Irish friend...potatoes and then no potatoes at all?
Canadian falls and guilt?
Chinese friend...suicide net construction?
Okinawan friend...waxing in various directions.
Japanese of all different levels of cookededness?
Italian friend...hand gestures and pasta with an aggressive sounding title that I have to eat a lot of or I'll insult an elder.
Greek friend...regular stuff but naked.
Dutch friend...getting high with hookers?
Indian friend...being too hot than cooking a meal for a cow?
South African friend...saying vitamins and aluminium a bunch?

Short Answer: Say what you want, stereotypes are funny. Unless want you want to say is, "Stereotypes aren't funny." Then, I guess, they aren't. For you in particular. Should I erase this and start a new Short Answer? Sounds like a lot of work. Hmmm...I wonder what will happen?