Most dogs are mixed breed: half pure bred and half over-fed.
I don’t feel well,
Hurry. Take a pill,
Heaven forbid my body,
Can cure my temporary ill.
Oh, no! GMO!
Don’t change that seed!
I’ll fight you in Washington,
As I smoke my weed.
A glass a day is OK,
My doctor said so,
Though advice from the morbidly obese?
He can’t even see his toes.
Science doesn’t matter,
I’ll do what I want,
I fought in the war,
Now my country owes me a lot.
Kids these days,
Expect everything on a platter,
We were never that way,
Why we look like tatter.
Copyright Jeanne “Bean” Murdock 2018
I broke into an AT&T service van to see if I could get free minutes.
I was in the middle seat on a plane. On one side of me was a gang banger all tatted up, fresh out of prison, and on the other side of me was a morbidly obese woman, both smelled like cigarettes. When I sat down, the woman said, “Sorry I’m a little large. I’m afraid of flying. Sorry I’m so fat. It’s embarrassing. I need a seat belt extension. I eat a lot when I can’t smoke.” She must fly a lot. The gang banger said that it was his first time flying. I told them that they didn’t have to worry about the pilots dying, because there was a spare pilot all suited up sitting across the aisle from us.
My next home is going to be a jump house. There’s nothing like coming home and doing a front flip into your living room.
I used to think that a room’s thermostat should be set at the average desired temperature of the room’s occupants. I changed my mind. Only the eutrophic people should have a say. In other words, if you don’t take care of yourself well enough to be a healthy weight, then you shouldn’t have a say. If you have enough extra blubber to feed an Eskimo family for a week, then move to Alaska. Don’t make me endure 60 degrees when it’s 80 outside. Don’t make me put on a jacket, because you choose to drive from errand to errand . . . in the same block . . . before hitting the drive through. Don’t make my fingers turn blue, because you insist on eating everything on your plate—a plate that’s big enough to block out the sun.
I can only imagine how a GPS would function for a storm chaser. “Turn left in 500 feet to get the f— out of here. In one foot, turn the hell around. I said turn the hell around. There’s a tornado right in front of you, asshole. I’m sorry. I’m outta here. You’re on your own. Goodbye.”
I am going to have elected surgery, because the majority of my friends want me to.
When I was setting up a new online account, I had to answer security questions in case I lost my username and password. These were the questions and my answers:
- If money was no object, what would you do all day? Play God.
- Where did you meet your significant other? GQ Magazine.
- Where did your mother and your father meet? At the sperm bank.
- What is the name of the city you got lost in once? Vatican City.
- What is your father’s middle name? Dead.
- What is your favorite city to visit? My own.
- What is your favorite flower? Alive.
- What subject should be taught in school that isn’t already? Comedy.
- What time of day were you born? Swing shift.
- What was the model of the second car you owned? Fabio.
- If you could eat only one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be? Cooked.
- What is your favorite book? That which I don’t have to read.
- What is your mother’s favorite thing to do in her spare time? Haunt me.
- What is your parent’s wedding anniversary? (White) Flag Day.
- What nickname did your grandmother call you? “Huh?”
- What song do you think you could have sung better than the professional singer? Any modern country song.
- What was the first concert you attended? Sober?
- What was the last name of your second grade teacher? Hotty. No that was fifth grade.
- What was the name of your first boyfriend? Shawn Cassidy; he just didn’t know it.
- What was your favorite childhood game? Screaming to get my way.
- If you change any feature about yourself what would it be? Really? Have you seen me?
- If you could have chosen a different career what would it be? Paid.
- What is the name of your favorite beverage? A tall drink of water.
- What is the name of your favorite cancelled TV show? America’s Got Talent.
- What is your favorite board game to play with friends? Strip poker.
- What was the name of your first college roommate? Ed. Oh, wait. That was the name of the first guy I slept with in college.
- What was the name of the park closest to where you grew up? Parallel Park.
- What was the name of the street you grew up on? No Way.
- Where do you want to travel but probably will never go? Watts.
- What is the name of your favorite historical figure? Mesomorph.
I coined a new term: Ipsigender. I’ll use it in a sentence: I am ipsigender. I am the same gender now as I was when I was born.
I used to have such a cheap landlord. His idea of central air conditioning was a ceiling fan in the middle of the apartment.
Living in a farm town, lifeguards at the community pool aren’t kids home on summer break; they’re border patrol agents.
Bachelorette party games are so lame. The only one I’m willing to play is guess who’s going home with the stripper.
Companies are mandating sensitivity training for their employees. That’s a waste of time. It would be better to teach employees how to guess age. I don’t want to be charged the senior rate!
If I were to re-offer personal fitness training, I would re-name my business Body Shamers, I mean Body Shapers.
When I die I want to have an open-casket funeral so that I can see all my friends walk by. I love people-watching. “Cheryl! You look great! And, I’m the one with all the make-up on.”
When I meet a guy, I go through the following mental checklist:
- Deal breaker (DB): Has kids. Acceptable (A): Married
- DB: Shaves body. A: Shaves face
- DB: Owns cat. A: Eats cat
- DB: Funnier than me. A: Laughs at all my jokes
- DB: College dropout. A: College age
- DB: Doesn’t vote. A: Voted most likely to model for GQ
- DB: Can’t balance a checkbook. A: Gives me control of checkbook
- DB: Has never traveled internationally (Canada and Mexico don’t count. Neither does Hawaii.). A: Cooks internationally
- DB: Wanted. A: Discarded
- DB: Pre-historic. A: Historian
- DB: Drug user. A: Pharmacist
- DB: Senseless. A: Sensual
- DB: Leaves toilet seat up. A: Lid down
- DB: Overweight. A: Will wait for me
- DB: Criminal record. A: Olympic record
I accidentally met with my seamstress to get my hair done. She gave me a weave.
When I was door knocking, a woman barely let me introduce myself. Just when she was about to slam the door in my face, her great Pyrenees dog (120+ pounds) bolted out and wrapped his jaws around the right side of my rib cage. Then the woman asked, “Who do I make the check out to?”
Some offices have casual Friday. My company has business Tuesday.
Celebrity wedding proposals are aired in prime time, and their divorces are aired in syndication.
On my last trip, I was behind a young teenage boy as we were walking down the jet bridge. Right before entering the plane, he stopped and made the sign of the cross. I wondered what he knew that I didn’t. I wanted to make a run for it, but I boarded anyway. To be safe, first I made the God Damn Independent denomination sign of the crossed fingers.
Speaking of bans, let’s ban all the people who made it so that comedy writers and performers “can’t say that anymore” and deport them to a time when they laughed alongside of us, rather than pretend to be ultra-caring. Compassion is not saying, “That’s offensive!” Compassion is an action.
People proudly display data from wristbands that track exercise volume. I would be much more interested in data that depicts how much time one has to live, adjusted daily for lifestyle habits, and how would it affect one’s choices and declaration to live life to the fullest.
If ice hockey is white man’s basketball, then water polo is black man’s . . . drowning?
I’m not shy about sharing the details of my driver’s license:
- Sex: Yes, please!
- Height: 5’4″ AND A HALF
- Weight: 120 pounds (I’m the only person who lies by ADDING 5 pounds)
- Hair: None of your business
- Eyes: Navy blue
- Donor (wanted): Sperm
- Body: 12-year-old boy
Anatomists say that if you stretch and lay out the small and large intestines, those will cover the space of a soccer stadium; or was it a foosball table? I always get that confused.
When I was door knocking at Christmas time, I saw a sign on a front door: “UPS. Put packages behind the tree or flower pot. We’ve had a theft.”
My Guardian Angel Wears Antiperspirant (Stinky Ghost Cat Books, $14.95), a book I co-wrote with Carole Breton last year, is now available! During her final year of life with Lou Gehrig’s disease, Carole Breton recounts living each day fully and adventurously while honoring her life purpose as a messenger. Read Antiperspirant to learn about Lou Gehrig’s disease and the disease’s association to military service, to be inspired to write your own story, to live vicariously through Carole’s past, or to just have a good laugh. The bad news is that Carole died Feb. 15, 2018. The good news is that she lived to see her story come to life. She was very happy with how her book turned out. Visit http://jeannemurdock.com/antiperspirant/ to read excerpts and to order a copy.
My improv performance from 2/15/18 went great. Visit my YouTube channel, beanners1 to watch video from the fun night. We had a great turnout. Thanks to all who came to watch and to my fellow “players.”
Today is my 26th anniversary in business. Who knew that my human health and fitness services would morph to dog massage? Who knew that I would go from writing health and fitness books to autobiographies? I spent all of last year co-writing autobiographies for two people. We finished writing the books in December. One book is in the first stage of editing, and the other should be available in a week. Also, The Every Excuse in the Book Book is in its second printing. Stay tuned and thank you for being my fans.
I will perform at an improv show Thursday, February 15, at 7 p.m. Come watch a hilarious show. $5. Lasts about 90 minutes. Underground Brewing Company, 1040 Broad St., San Luis Obispo, CA.
True story. I’m almost done writing another book. In 1979, two probation officers escorted six teenage boys into a federal prison to participate in Scared Straight. Not only were the boys subjected to the predicted yelling but also they were forced to fully strip and were molested by several inmates for more than an hour. I’m honored to be entrusted with this story and hope that it will yield justice and peace for the boys. Also, I am hoping that the book’s publicity will bring forward four of the boys whose identities I haven’t learned, yet.
Paso Robles Daily News printed an article, yesterday, that I wrote about customer service and my new book. Read here.