IWS Radio...Divine Intervention or Mocked by the Devil?

Cheeeeeeeeeers Chuckleheads, and a most enjoyable Hump Day to you all.

Y’know?

Sometimes, in the course of human events…people, political parties, businesses, and the like, hit a crossroads.

There comes that make it or break moment that is provided, wanted or not, by some type of Deus ex Machina type of event.  Well my friends..?

That Deus ex Whateverah has wormed its way into the previously well-oiled machine that is IWS Radio.

And, I must tell you…This Deus ex Bullshit comes to us in the form of Sunday’s guest on the IWS Radio Halloween inspired show which will air LIVE this Sunday on Blog Talk Radio from Noon-2 PM ET.

Y’see?

Jayman and I aren’t the luckiest people in the world, and yet, just in time for our Halloween show, out of the blue (or is it the dark abyss of Hell) a guest arises who can put this particular upcoming show into the annals of Blog Talk Radio greatness.

Are the fates of the universe smiling upon us, or is it that God is throwing those sixteen sided dice of his, and we are coming up snake eyes every time, while His Holy Supernaturalness laughs, and leaves Jayman and I to cry?

I guess we’ll find out Sunday.  And you too shall find out…If you listen.

I am prevented from telling you who the guest is at this point, but I can tell you this much…

While Jay and I are skeptical of anyone who appears to be ethereal and supernatural, we may be made believers in the person who will be joining us this Sunday on IWS Radio.

This person is in tune not only with your core and mine, but in tune with the core of the Earth itself.

And yet…

Our guest doesn't spin upon an axis of 24/7 news cycles, or baubles, or self-absorption; our guest spins upon and within, a realm made up of amber waves of grain and shining seas, but not in the sense that you might think.

Our guest feeds upon such things, and will tell you all about it this Sunday from Noon-2 PM ET on IWS Radio.

I know…

Jayman and I are as confused as you, but…this guest was sent to us as some form of life force and it could be dangerous not to accept it, and well, it would be just plain rude not to accept this guest, after all this time begging asking for guests.  So…

That’s all I can say for now…For more information, I guess you will have to read the website tomorrow.

Until then…Happy Hump Day and pray that this Sunday’s guest is an entity of good.

Cheers!!

Matt-Man

mattmaniws@ymail.com
@MattMan_IWS
My Facebook Page

I Am Matt-Man, But You Can Call Me Job

Cheers and Happy Friday Chuckleheads…Matt-Man here to help you get your big, Super Bowl XLVI weekend kicked off right.

And how will I do that, you ask yourselves?

In order to help you make you feel great about yourselves, Ima gonna tell you about all the simple, yet highly irritating misfortunes that occur to me at the most inopportune times.

Oh yeah, Bitches…

While I am not one who adheres to deadlines and timelines by any means, every day annoyances happen to me right on schedule, meaning…their schedule.

Like last night for instance.  I got home around 9:15 PM knowing that it was me who was scheduled to post on IWS for Friday.  I had put some thought into it while at work, and decided I would write about all the garbage some people post on Facebook.

I’d get home…Re-read some hilarious religious, political, and oh woe is me posts on Facebook and make fun of them.  Simple enough, right?

Sure…If you’re not me.

I got home, went to get on Facebook and voila…I couldn't read anything on Facebook, because using MY browser on MY computer, it was all fucked up.  I asked around to see if others were having problems.  Nope, not a one…Just yours truly.  And then I began to think…

This kinda stupid shit happens to me all the damn time.

Dig it…This past week, I did nine sets of taxes for various people including myself.  Three sets of Federal, State, and Local tax returns.

Eight of the nine returns were accepted as correct.  Guess whose State return was screwed up due to a simple, tiny mistake?  Uh-huh…

Mine.

Hell, yesterday my BFF/OSP Schmoop already got her State refund which I did for her only days ago, and what did I get for my efforts?  Nothing, but the right to be nicknamed, H&R Blockhead, and a one way ticket to Palookaville.

A couple of weeks ago, I was running incredibly late for work.  I managed to get showered, dressed, and ready to go when what did I hear?  A whooshing sound.  A wet, warbling, whooshing sound.  The toilet was running and about to run over.

After cursing my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and his Almighty, practical joke wielding Father, I fixed the toilet, ran through the wind and rain to work, and arrived with two minutes to spare.

Desperately in need of a smoke, I stuck my hand in my pocket, only to discover there was nothing there.  I had left my smokes at home in the GODDAMN Bathroom!!

Hell, the other night at work, I was in need of an energy boost, so I bought the last no-carb Monster that we had in stock.  I rang it up; paid for it, and when I went open it…the FUCKING tab broke off without opening the can.

I am not afraid to admit…I wept a bit.

There is hope however, and there is a bit of promise perhaps.

Due to my schedule at work, I have yet to see my kid play any of his High School basketball games this year.

This Tuesday if the weather is not too bad, and he doesn’t have to work at his “every day” job of snow removal and maintenance, Bill who works off and on for us, is going to work my evening shift, so that I may attend my son’s game…on my birthday no less.

While I find that very sweet of him, I know that given my track record in life, it ain’t going to happen.

Because…

Even if the weather is perfect and Billy Boy does show up?

As I am driving to my son’s game, with music cranked and a birthday smile upon my face, I will suddenly hear an explosion and a koo-lumpa-lumpa-lumpa sound a mile or so away from his school.

I will pull over to the side of the road, once again curse the Baby Jeebus, and begin to fix the flat tire…or the two flat tires, oh what the hell, I’ll fix all, GODDAMN FOUR flat tires.

Have a good weekend everyone, and enjoy the Super Bowl.  I’ll miss the first quarter because I am working, but I’ll get to see the rest of it.

Provided our TV doesn’t go on the shits, which...I'm sure it will.

Cheers!!

Matt-Man

Email:  neshobadude@yahoo.com
Twitter:  @mattmaniws    

Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining...Or Not

Happy Friday and welcome to the weekend all you I’m With Stupid readers.  I know you’re looking forward to the weekend, because well, I’m the reason many of you are looking forward to it.

Who am I, and how do I know that?  Simple…

I’m the cloud that hangs over your head.

I know, you don’t always see me or recognize me, but deep down, you know I am omnipresent, for instance…

Remember this past Monday morning when you woke up wearing urine stained- underwear after drinking too many Bud Lights and Jell-O shots through 24 quarters of football on Sunday?

In a moment of gleeful self redemption, you swore off drinking, and were going to make this week the best week of your life, because your sizeable tax return was finally coming your way.

Uh-huh, and then what happened?  That’s right, I rained despair all over your nascent garden of good luck.  

You see, after taking a pee, and lighting up a smoke, you flipped on the TV and what did you see?  Nothing, ’cause your six year old TV decided it was tired and was no longer going to send you magical, moving pictures of sports, comedy, and news of the world.

After fighting all those long months with your own government’s IRS to receive said tax return, you now have to give it all back to the Japanese government in the form of a new TV.  Classic, and I must say, with little humility, yet much humidity…some of my best work.

I dig my precipitous self, because one minute I am making you smile as I silently float above you in the form of a cute and winsome cirrus cloud, and the next minute..?  I am a dark and burgeoning cumulonimbus bastard thunderously pelting you and your life with hailstones of frozen shit.

It’s like the time you went to the office one summer morning, sat as usual in your sterile cubicle, when the boss, Mr. Peterson, came in and said…

“Johnson my good man, come to my office in ten minutes; You've been doing an exemplary job, and I think we have a promotion in mind for you.”

Prior to the meeting, excited from the promise of a promotion, and your bladder spilling over from your third cup of coffee, you went to the restroom.

While relieving yourself you felt a non-descript nodule on your penis and a urinary discharge that while captivating to the eye, was a most disturbing and robust shade of pink.

With a profound squeeze of your penis, your cock firmly in hand, you cut off the flow, and swung your body around to review the growth by looking at it in the bathroom mirror.

And then, Mr. Peterson walked in, and saw you with pants down and cock in hand, screaming repeatedly, “Oh Dear God What Hath You Wrought?”, while you stared at your deformed manhood oozing in Pepto-Bismolness as it suffered from some type of penile pink eye.

Needless to say, you didn’t get the promotion, and only because I was feeling somewhat puffy, good-natured, and cumulus that day, did you get a healthy severance package.

Of course…

Being the mercurial type that I am, it was all taken away from you days later when the chick who gave you penile pink eye said she was pregnant, the ex told you your kid needs braces, and the IRS sent you a letter that read…

“While feeding Beefaroni and day-old bread to the homeless in exchange for cutting your grass, doing your laundry, and cleaning your house is admirable, it is NOT tax deductible.”

Ha…I do my job and I do it well, so don’t mess with me.

Let me rain down on you, for I am the Cloud, and no one is above me...are they Matt-Man?

neshobadude@yahoo.com

http://twitter.com/#!/MattManIWS