Fist of the Penguins

The gay penguins who got married in China! - Two gay penguins in China were getting shade from the zookeepers because they kept stealing the abandoned eggs of female penguins at Polarland Zoo in China. The zookeepers finally said “fuck it” and let the gayguins raise the eggs. The two peenguins have done such a swell job that the zookeepers have awarded them with a big gay wedding. One wore a red blouse (the bottom) and one wore a bow tie (the top). They celebrated with a big plate of fish. Yeah, that fish shit threw me off too.

Congrats to these two precious gayguins! Homo love is everywhere and it’s fucking beautiful!

 

 A PAIR of GAY penguins are so loved-up they have been given a WEDDING service.

The besotted male birds turned out to be such a great parenting pair their keepers thought they deserved a reward and let them marry.

They were once given the cold shoulder at the wildlife park in China for stealing heterosexual couples’ eggs to nest as their own.

But after being allowed to try out with eggs rejected by their mothers the couple have become the zoo’s best penguin parents.

Now keepers at Polarland Zoo in Harbin, north east China, have rewarded their devotion with a wedding day.

One wore a tie and the other was dressed in a red blouse – a traditional Chinese bridal colour – as they stepped into their icy wedding room to the music of the Wedding March.

Keepers then served them their favourite dish for the occasion – spring fish.

“They have been a good couple and deserved their reward,” said one keeper.

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/article2176812.ece

Bus 90 Tribulations

 

The Marlboro Light began to stain my pointer figure as I sauntered amongst the splotched blackened snow. I had feverishly allowed myself to smoke two back to back giving me a feeling of guilt and sinfulness but allowing the extreme cold as an excuse for my actions.

I walked up the hustling road as cars engaged my attention by passing by as I see pain and apology in their eyes as I suffer the cold with a backpack in toe as they safely cruise by in the comfort of their SUV’s and “Obama/Biden” bumper stickers in tacked.

I childishly blow smoke from my mouth in hopes to contrive a ring or some beautiful smoke figure, as if a prize awaited me if succeeded ( Cancer anyone?) I continue to walk…

As of recently this particular situation was common and a part of my daily ritual. As hard as it is to admit such an ambiguous fact about myself…. I Kyle Sullivan-Jones am a “Bus Transient” .. “Phew!”

It’s taken me a few months to allow such an alarming fact to conclude in my brain. One who utilizes the Spokane Transit Bus usually has particular traits and cliché’ stereotypes that one thinks about when brought up (Ill-favored, indigent kooks) Correct?

Some can argue that would be biased and rude and be along the lines of saying “rednecks love Jeff Foxworthy,” or “All Gays like Sandra Bullock movies.”… Well.. I’m here today to reassure everyone that all these alleged facts are 100% correct !

Such conclusion came while I rode the monotonous vehicle one morning on my way to work. Dressed in an Italian cashmere P-Coat, freshly showered and feeling rather confident for it being 7 am, the Spokane Circus had allegedly joined me on my ride-o-fun.

Have you ever had that feeling when your pissing in a urinal at an empty public restroom and you feel complete safety. It’s one of those pisses that orgasms out your urethra, possibly even allowing that much held in fart to squeak out. This particular feeling is nothing but pure auspicious blissfulness !

But let’s be honest here? Have you ever attempted to experience such a piss of ecstasy only to have it interrupted by some loathsome creature that decides to choose the urinal right next to you, instead of using pure consideration to be two booths away (Common rule, duh !). Well such a metaphor is how I look at riding the bus; minus the horrific pee “stage fright,” us men endure when dealing with the vexed urinal dilemmas.

I pose my face towards the window while sucking my cheeks in and yielding my best attempt at being a sassy bitch. I allow my facial expression to look concerned and vindictive in hopes that my presence will come unsettling for people to want to sit next to me. It no longer becomes a simple game of getting a $1.00 ride to work…. This my friends has become war of the social classes.

Successfully I had started my adventure in a rather savory, softened way as my I-POD played on and I allowed my thoughts and dreams to consume attention. Perhaps the upbeat tune from my player had allowed myself to soften as I watched on as two rather overweight sisters wearing FUBU and taking notice their Old Navy jeans where emphasizing there stretch marked flavored muffin tops.

Perhaps the ultimate gift from riding the bus is the people watching aspect. We all do it (malls, restaurants, Church). As a society we have ultimately become the harshest critics, but most of that negative energy gets filtered out due to pure consideration for others. If I see someone that lacks a physical trait or is pure burning of the retinas it’s rather sad that I instantly create a joke inside my conscious as if I think I am the ultimate illusion of pure supremacy. I may not be perfect, and it’s fair to say that I’m being harsh.

But Holy-Fuck balls, not in regards to these deficient “Bus Transients.” It’s as if all the imperfections of the world where to all congregate in one suffocating inducing space .

In one particular scenario, I Rosa Parks my ass in the central private location of the bus interior, only to be bothered by a “Bus Chameleon.” What’s that you say? These are people that trick you with the illusion of having good health hygiene, and perhaps even having all their teeth intact. “Oh thank goodness, a normal,” I jokingly think to myself as a middle-aged man sits near me looking rather vivacious and mysterious. He was drinking a Strawberry-Kiwi Propel water, so in my eyes he was the epitome of cool (LOL!)

As the bus filled more and the stale stench of B.O and mayonnaise filled my nostrils, this charming middle-aged man began to speak to a Ghoul, with dark “home-dyed” hair, and discolored shoe laces that where sooooo EMO of her, mixed well with her Twilight sweatshirt and duct-taped purse.

As I eavesdropped on to this rather interesting encounter between opposites I realized that this rather normal lad was discussing his love of the “Old Testimate of the Bible.” “OH FUCK, I have been compromised.” I quickly fanned the flames that amplified upon my ears and choked back the utter surprise. This man is coaxing this poor individual into listening upon his fictitious beliefs as I quietly wept and wished that I had a toothless prostitute with a goiter sitting next to me instead. Those damn Chameleons and there witchery.

“I just can’t win,” I suddenly theorized as the bus made its way to my destination. Until I can fortunately achieve a vehicle of my own I will patiently endure this crazy world of urine, menthol cigarette smelling abyss of hell. I can assume that I’m coming off rather excruciating and negative towards this particular convenience that has helped me commute amongst my city of meth heads.

I can honestly admit that riding the Spokane Transit bus, though extremely unpleasant at times, is the best Shit-Show you’ll ever pay $1.00 to witness .

On a side note, I’m off to watch “While You Were Sleeping,” as thy Gay Goddess Sandra awaits, and I must wake up in 6 more hours only to anticipate what fabricated nightmare I’ll endure tomorrow morning on Bus 90 (Sprague to Downtown).

K-

Where in the World is Kimmy Gibbler?

 

 

LOL ! … How I miss thee !

Whispering Leviathan

The smothered gossip tone of voices sing through my office as I tentatively eavesdrop on whether I can uncover my name being said; as if some kind of amateur detective on a mission. Clearly the dynamics of office politics have been causing somewhat of paranoia as of lately, due to the abstruse nature of my unrefined bosses.

Shortly ago I allowed myself to come clean about my current health issues involving my kidneys failing, primarily to explain my frequent doctor visits I’ll have in the near future . Smart move, perhaps not?

Whenever one has a pre-existing condition, it should be 100% confidential. But in a small office setting and large amounts of responsibility that weighs over my fragile shoulders; there was no way around it.

All was peachy, resolved and met with much respect via my general manager, who repeated Southern bible limericks; in hopes to cheer me up (I’ll give him small credit for trying)

All was swell….That was until the Whispering Leviathan, grasped her fake press on nails into this juicy tale of distress.

What is a Whispering Leviathan, you ask?  It’s normally a middle aged woman, whose personal life (marriage, family, emotions) are so fordone and miserable that her only means of satisfaction is by sparking up interest in people’s personal lives. This gratification is the equivalent to an orgasm, something this particular person in play prolly hasn’t had since 1975.

She catwalks passed my office pretty regularly, as I fight the urges of anger and allow myself to feel defeated by this woman.

Standing at an astounding 6’4 with a bushel of blonde, curly pubic hairs that blanket her head like a Shit-Tzu and clothes that mismatch in a sad attempt to have people label her “Fashion Forward,” I have this visual of her watching BRAVO on a daily basis while taking notes on how shawls look great with hair ties, and UGG boots LOL!

Regardless of the vendetta I hold against this malicious creature; we all have them in our office and there is no escaping.

The nautical day came when I arrived to work and received that annoying empathy from co-workers who were clearly more interested in getting to know the real details and sugar coated conversation immediately upon my arrival for facts, yet staying appropriately cryptic. This was when I immediately knew they had been bitten by the Whispering Leviathan.

Overtly I am not ashamed to discuss my kidney syndrome with anyone whom has a curiosity or genuine interest in the matter. But how does one kill this brute, gossiping creature from creating my life story into that of a LIFETIME movie of the week?

So what’s a boy to do in such a case of urgency?

Google the matter of course !

Armed with several capital gauss cannons on its dorsal and ventral sides, as well as heavy shielding, the Leviathan is easily the single most deadly entity within the Hive’s hierarchy. This monstrosity should not be engaged by solo pilots; typically an assault force of more than three or four pilots is required to damage the Leviathan beyond repair. More pilots are recommended for most efficient results.

Killing a Leviathan is impossible without a group of at least three or four pilots with their pick of equipment. Outfit your Ragnaroks with the highest damage ordinance in the game. Park your ships at 5000m, which is just far enough to be out of radar range. Make sure you have no target selected. Have one player count down, and lock your turbo on at the same time. When you reach 3000m (you can tell by watching your sector list), begin firing. Do not deactivate your turbo until the shield has fallen, or you have failed and need to try again. Note: do not target the Levi with guided missiles; these will fly faster if left unguided. Your goal is to deal the maximum possible damage in the minimum possible amount of time. More players obviously makes this task easier. With enough players, a group could theoretically use energy weapons. The Leviathan has two blind spots, one at each end, that makes the use of energy weapons easier. However if you are using rockets in your attempt to drop the Leviathan’s shields and fail, the concussive force from the rockets will cause the Leviathan to move slightly, so it will become increasingly difficult to coordinate an effective attack without being caught off guard by its turrets.

LOL!

K-

The Queen Reigns Supreme

 

If your the Queen of Soul…. what better way to leave your legacy then by stealing all the attention with your dead twin fetus attached to your head.

 

Is Your Fibromyalgia Bothering You?

 The clock on my computer seems to have stayed at 10:07 am for the past hour. For some reason my Thursday morning has frozen into some  kind of time continuum, where all actions have ceased except my thoughts which rapidly circulated through my head, causing a sense of annoyance and lack of focus on my part.

My office desk is completely blanketed with supplies that I myself have been too lazy to clean, which has resulted in the look of displeasure and disgust by my superiors when they walk by and notice my Jumbo paper clips have been arranged around my desk to make a smiley face or the fact my tape dispenser has been empty for about a month now.

 

 I wouldn’t necessarily blame my actions on being lazy, but more along the lines of pure boredom and anger? What exactly is my position entail at a job that seems so insignificant that I’m not utilizing my stronger assets for the better good? Instead I have become somewhat of a YouTube entrepreneur, who has the ability to entertain small group of parties on the side with funny clips of people getting hit in the balls; because that’s what my 8 hour days consist of.

As I slowly staggered into work this morning sipping on my coffee that seemed to lack that zesty taste of ecstasy that usually excites and revs my morning with a boost of energy; was gone; that itself was a sign that my day could result in something horrendous… that or I’m over analyzing a day due to a bad cup of joe.

I clicked open my Microsoft Outlook  to review my irrelevant emails and semi-funny FWDS my employees sent me, when the alleged bad day had suddenly darkened; my boss rang me into his office.

Normally I handle such stress with a sense of tactful confidence to guard the fact I’m in such fear that I could potentially piss my pants all over his office by a simple eye brow raise or his cryptic mannerisms that I swear he learned in drama class back in college.

I reluctantly sat in his expensive STAPLES office chair with pure jealously as I remembered that minutes ago I myself was sitting in the down-syndrome version of this particularly luxuries chair; I was pissed!

My face of disgust quickly dissipated as we made eye contact and I wanted to avoid any of my facial expressions to be negatively read, so I immediately went into “Richard Simmons,” Kyle mode, where I play bubbly and get ready to sweat to the oldies.

 “Howdy Hoe Boss! How’s your super duper morning going”?  {Insert kiss –ass vomiting now}

He squirmed a little in his chair as I could tell his thought process was working overtime to consummate the beginning of our awkward encounter. The entire time he struggled to initiate the reason for my visit, I couldn’t help but notice his male camel toe.  I realize over the past 4 months I have over emphasizes this camel toe of epic proportion, but today it officially bothered me worse than having to watch “Everyone Loves Raymond.” Blah! 

 “Hey Kyle,” … the tone seemed soft with a sense of parental essence attached. “I would like to show you something,” he said with a gruff and confident voice. Around this time I became Jodie Foster from “Panic Room,” as I strategically pondered ways to escape his office or hide, before anything else could proceed.  

 Could the fear of his male camel toe engulfing me possibly be causing a minor anxiety attack or have I heard of too many stories of Republican Goblins hitting on their poor innocent gay assistants…. Idea’s where running ramped and it still was only 10:07 am; what was I to do?

As the equivalent to Danny Devito’s character portrayal of “The Penguin,” in Batman Returns, he waddled under his desk to fetch something and coincidentally squeaking simultaneously out of breathe.

My imagination went overboard with scary thoughts, as fear of a Barrel of anal ease was about to be presented to me with a quirky smile and the saying “Want a promotion, I got the lotion.”…..

All fear rest assured,  my boss himself had a dilemma that needed to be solved. All this worrying that my Republican boss whose consist Sara Palin jokes had caused secret animosity between us for the past few months had best put aside; his computer wasn’t working and he needed my help.

With his stern boisterous voice he begged me to help figure out why his computer was running at a slow pace? Something that he assumed was virus related. This coincidentally wouldn’t surprise me with all the porn I imagine he watches in his office; because I’m not too sure what his job details; to be honest?

 As I doped around his computer with an over heightened sense of confidence, it all reigned on me. Clearly there was something in his hard drive that was causing his 1980 computer to be somewhat deficient and worn out.

“I’ve been trying to fix this computer all morning and it’s been a piece of shit” he chirped as I lay on my knees, in fear that this could be his secret ulterior motive ‘Yikes”…..  Was it a virus? Was it that his computer was so old it still had the original Oregon Trail on it? NOPE? ….  Like Bill Gates himself I diagnosed his problem within an efficient time that the walls clock still rang in at 10:07 am.

The Diagnosis was…

 

 

Damn You uncultivated Republican’s !

This is what you get for listening to Josh Grobin

& leaving it in your Hard Drive

Phenomenal

Mis-Education of Kyle

 

 

 Things to Say Goodbye to for 2009

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• The Southern charm of Jessica Simpson,that had once enchanted me into enjoying her inhabitance, thanks to MTV and a hollow & lackluster performance as Daisy Duke; has officially expired. RIP my Southern Gem, as your career outlook looks as promising as Pauly Shore!

____________________________________________________________________________________________VH1 Vh1 has always been that guilty pleasure that unconsciously hooks you in with their meaningless and tantalizing television shows.  I compare it as an epidemic that swept through America like SARS, without any vaccine to help curve our attention to something more illuminative. I’d be a hypocrite to say I don’t enjoy such programming as “I Love New York,” became a staple to my Monday night time slot back in the day. But as years go by the production has fallen into a level of code red of ridicule and embarrassment.  Why do these alleged contestants a.k.a ACTORS,  degrade themselves to such fatuous levels?  Clearly it’s for ratings and entertainment purposes; but once again shows that Americans are asinine.   

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Somebody for the sake of mankind,  FREE KATIE HOLMES… She’s talented, beautiful and stuck in a lifeless marriage to a closeted homosexual. Where’s PETA when you need em? Ditch the blockhead and get on with your life Joey Potter (insert Dawsons Creek joke here)

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Enough Said….

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I understand that Disney is a huge Monopoly that’s main goal is profiting on old nostalgic fun from our childhood and utilizing it to a degree primarly for cash flow.

 But FUCK !

 

These direct to DVD (Disney flicks), which I unfortunately get doped into purchasing, lack any significant production value and put the original movies to absolute shame. Walt Disney would be rolling around in his cryogenically frozen machine when he witnesses the shitacious, cheap movies Disney’s “harebrained” department have been releasing.  

Have they simply just ran out of ideas?  How bout I suggest doing life action versions of old classics to allow the younger generation to feel the magic & adoration we felt when we first saw them

Or ….

 LET THEM BE!!!  Use your millions to create “NEW IDEAS”

Basic Light 100’s

 

It’s been almost over a year since your passing and as of recently I saw somebody smoking a pack of Basic Light 100’s a.k.a worse tasting smokes known to man (reminded me of you) and for that I shall confess my love and void I have without your quirky and vivacious disposition around, to make me laugh and to watch me flourish into a humble and compassionate adult; and for that I owe you the entirety of my tenderness and love…… oh and the emphysema LOL, thanks ! JK ! 

 

Sullivan, Lynette Marie

 (Age 53)

 

Passed away at Sacred Heart Medical Center in Spokane, Washington on October 31, 2007.Lynette was born to Walter A. and Geraldine (Gerry) Sullivan on September 6, 1954 in Butte, Montana. She attended St. Ann’s Grade School before moving to Spokane Washington in 1967. She graduated from University High School in 1972. She was preceded in death by her father, Walter Sullivan. Lynette is survived by her mother, Gerry Sullivan; her maternal aunts Jan Mauney and Noralee Driscoll and uncle William Driscoll; her sons Brian and Kyle; and her siblings Sharlene (Gary) Gibson, Cathy (Terry) Jones, Marissa Sullivan (Rick Hein) and Tim (Kari) Sullivan. She will be sadly missed by her special nieces Shanna, Tia and Sydney and nephews Ty, Fano, and Nick; and many special cousins and friends. The memory of Lynette’s humor, courage, strength and loving spirit will always be held close to our hearts. The family wishes to thankfully acknowledge the loving care and devoted attention she received from all of her caregivers whom she considered her second family. Special thanks to DSI Kidney Dialysis Center, Dr. Leo Obermiller and staff, Dr. Neil Worrall, Dr. Vern Holbert, Dr. Douglas Waggoner, Dr. Layton and the caring and helpful nurses on 5 North, Sacred Heart Medical Center. A private graveside service for the family was held.

 K-                         Miss You !

 

What Road?

 I’m Missing Seattle Horribly !!!