The Best Name For A Rock Group In The History Of Ever!

MEN WITHOUT PANTS

If I was a DJ I'd funk up some old Men Without Hats tracks with new stuff from Men Without Pants and call it a "We Don't Need No Stinkin' Dress Code Remix."

Do The Safety Dance.....Without Pants Or Hats!

We Spotted A Colossal Hung Dong While Cruising The Streets Of Houston

*WARNING: This post may offend your puritanical sensibilities. May I redirect you to something more sanitized and boringly wholesome? Perhaps you'd like to visit The Pioneer Woman and gaze upon yet another cow snapshot? It's all part of her Billion Bovine pictorial movement. What about cow labor laws? Are those cattle getting reimbursed for their exploitation at the hands of that scurrilous Pioneer Woman???!? Anyway, I cannot be held responsible for any facial marks you may incur from furiously slapping your hand to your gaping mouth while reading the shocking contents of this post.*

In its three plus years of existence The Smiling Infidel has never once featured Hung Dong pictures. So when the opportunity arose to capture this magnificent Hung Dong, I seized upon it. I consider my friend Carrot Jello to be one of the most spiritual and morally upstanding people I've ever met; and yet even she giggled like a little girl at the sight of an eerily glowing Hung Dong that beckoned to us from beyond the darkened roadway.......well, actually, she giggled after recovering from the whiplash she suffered from my abrupt full speed U-Turn action.

I think we're all in agreement here that HUNG DONG is an unfortunate name for a food market.
Can you imagine putting Hung Dong on your resume? "Uh yes, I worked briefly as a janitor at Hung Dong. It was a filthy thankless job trying to keep that Hung Dong clean. I got tired of mopping up constant spills."

The Infidel family usually shops at Kroger's grocery store. I used to own a T-shirt that I got during a customer appreciation promotion. It screamed "I LOVE KROGER'S!" in big white letters. Now let's just picture a similar giveaway from Hung Dong, shall we? I'm thinking it might give off the wrong impression to walk around wearing a garment that declares: "I LOVE HUNG DONG!" across the front.

As a general rule Hung Dong refuses to sell cocktail smokies. You'll never find a store circular advertising "The Hung Dong Now Has Little Weenies!" No, clearly the Hung Dong prefers to engage only in mondo sausage sale celebrations. They must maintain and protect their image and street cred, people.

I wonder if Hung Dong is a chain, a franchise, or a one location only kind of store? Does the owner walk around bragging to everyone he meets about his amazing Hung Dong? The proprietor obviously takes good care of his Hung Dong. Notice the impenetrable shield designed to keep Hung Dong safe?

I'll bet certain words are forbidden within the confines of the Hung Dong boardroom. In regards to discouraging sales figures the manager avoids his first instinct to sigh excessively and say things like "Oh crap, the old Hung Dong is really sagging these days." Other banished terms include "droopy" and "limp." Approved Hung Dong business words: stiff, steady growth, spread sheets, endurance, and greater volume.

So is Houston the only place where you can find a decent Hung Dong? Do other cities have a Hung Dong or will we Houstonians gain yet another title to add to our growing collection that includes The Fattest City, The Space City, and Bayou City? Hung Dong Houston. I like it. I can envision the tourism board pamphlet now: Come Visit Houston.....You'll Love Our Hung Dong!

Meanwhile, Deep In The Heart Of Texas........

The inferno like heat relentlessly baked, broiled, and roasted a visiting Carrot until her exterior reached a feverish shade of red.
We may have overcooked Carrot a teensy bit in the scorchingly hot Texas sun. She can never again package herself as a raw Carrot although thanks to the aftermath of her intense sunburn she can now be marketed as a pre-peeled Carrot or a southern-fried Carrot. I bet that's a delicacy somewhere.
What did we do and where did we go during the 5 glorious days that Carrot stayed here in Houston? Here's a brief rundown:

• I treated Carrot to her very first Happy Hour where we indulged in Everything's Bigger In Texas-sized mixed drinks. (Half-Priced Cherry Limeades at Sonic Drive-Thru are fantastique!)
• We finally got to experience the thrill of being on a slow boat to China.....quite literally. Yes, when we shelled out the exorbitant fees to embark on the guided Riverwalk tour we had no idea that our voyage would be on the Love Boat's sister ship, The Dull Boat. We weren't sailing on a ship of fools. It was more like a ship of drools as people nodded off from sheer boredom. You know it's a bad tour when the host excitedly points out Christmas lights strung around a tree off on the left and people dining on overpriced pasta on the right. Well, that's when we actually could understand what Captain Moses was saying. Most of the time his accent was a cross between Mr. Bean, the teacher on Charlie Brown, and that Mush Mouth from Fat Albert. Captain Moses proved incapable of such lofty goals as parting the Red Sea. In fact, Captain Moses couldn't even part his own hair. He slammed into the pier upon docking leading Carrot to exclaim "HOLY MOSES!!!!" The elderly lady in the back of the boat was our favorite. She churlishly yelled out such charming sentiments as: "Back in my day the boats moved a lot faster than this....." and "Hey, is that Captain even speaking English??!?"
• Carrot moved me and I moved Carrot. Together, side-by-side in the claustrophobic stalls of the Antique Mall, our bowels moved in perfect harmonic unison. That's true friendship.
• Everyone knows that avowed church slackers plop themselves in the very back of the chapel so they can be as ornery as they wanna be without detection from the more pious of the congregation. The Infidel Family always parks their rears in the rear. Always. Carrot's soaring angelic voice rose above all of our section's off-key hymnal mumblings that we try to pass off as singing. Carrot was the pride and joy of the back aisles last Sunday.
• I nearly collapsed in laughter when our Relief Society leader perkily announced that we'd be "waxing cheese" at this week's Enrichment meeting. Carrot and I were the only ones who thought it was funny. I suspect that none of the sweet sisters in that room made inappropriate jokes about hairy cheese triangles that needs a good Brazilian waxing. Some churchy people wax poetic.....we wax cheese.
• Carrot confided in me that the crushed ice from our refrigerator leaves the best aftertaste. I told her to write up her testimonial for inclusion in our upcoming Smiling Infidel Travel Lodge brochure. "Infidel ice is the best!!! It makes you forget that everything else there tastes like overcooked butt."
• While feasting at Dumass Tacos, Carrot cheekily approached a group of redneck construction guys and asked them to repeat the song she'd heard them crooning while waiting in line. It involved titties and beer and rhymed with phrases like "Thank God I'm not queer." They happily complied and then allowed her to snap pictures of them with their redneck cruiser: A jacked-up, souped-up, painted-up Dodge truck. Then they revved their engine and squealed the tires on their way out of the parking lot leaving me and Carrot to sing "Just a good ole' boys not a meanin' no harm......" for the rest of the day.
• While here, Carrot lovingly slaved over a hot stove to make us coffee cake. It didn't have any coffee in it. She also made us Monkey Bread. It didn't have any monkeys in it.
• We successfully completed the Houston Buffet Invitational competition. Carrot now understands why Houston is known for cheap eats. She also now understands why Houston has won the title of "Fattest City" by Men's Health magazine four years in a row.
• My mom gave me tickets to see Happy Days: The Musical. Carrot and I stealthily upgraded ourselves to box seats during the intermission so we could get a closer look at The Fonz in his super tight jeans. We were so close we could see one of the actors spit when he started to sing. Fresh Bonafide Theatrical Spittle On Tap. Awesome.
• We both got emotional while singing along with Dan Fogelberg. ( I know!)
• I confided in Carrot that nobody else in this world can make me laugh until I wet my pants like she can. I'll be packing extra undies in my purse in preparation of the next Carrot rendezvous.

Things We Didn't Do While Carrot Was Here:

• We did not visit NASA or Space Center Houston. I was secretly fearful that we'd get accidentally launched into space like in that cheesy 80's movie "Space Camp."
• We didn't get around to solving world peace or global warming. However, Carrot did buy us some nifty bedside tables which we outfitted with some super green energy saver lightbulbs. This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine......
• We never stopped singing Glen Campbell's monster hit, "Galveston." The slightest provocation would launch Carrot into crooning the main chorus and then I'd join in. Turns out the main chorus is the only lyrics we know. "Galveston, oh, Galveston......"
• Carrot met both my mom and dad and yet she still didn't work up the courage to ask for my hand in marriage. What's that all about?
• Papi treated me like a lady of leisure during Carrot's visit; even going to work in my place. Consequently Carrot didn't get to fulfill her "Day In The Life Of Elastic" dreams. We did eat chili dogs twice in one day, though. I think that more than makes up for it.
• Despite sharing close bathing/bathroom/clothes changing/sleeping quarters we never accidentally saw each other naked. That honor is reserved solely for MILLIE who saw me in all my naked Infidel glory last year in Oregon. Poor, poor Millie.
• Convince Carrot to move here. Oh well, there's always next time she visits.

I'm Putting Some Carrot Jello Into My Bed Tonight!

Ah, the great state of Texas..........
It's home to a many and varied wondrous things.
Things such as those cute little critters known as armadillos. Things such as armies of ready and willing taxidermists that can transform the tragedy of a squished roadkill armadillo into the triumph of a kitschy beer bottle holder provided you don't mind armadillo particles in your alcoholic beverages.
Yes, it's great to be a Texan....most of the time.
Sadly though, despite searching near and far, there' s simply not a satisfying and delightful Carrot Jello to be found anywhere.
Oh believe me, I've been in pursuit of a replicate Carrot Jello companion for years, all to no avail. How hard is it to find some decent Carrot Jello around these parts? A good Carrot Jello is bouncy and beaming with shininess on the outside while also showing there's substance on the inside....well, substance aside from all the shredded vegetables.
Regrettably, I've only found pale imitations of Carrot Jello greatness that either had a surprisingly fruity center or worse yet, absolutely nothing inside.
Carrot Jello doesn't come in a pre-molded design for there's nothing quite like a good Carrot Jello. It's a recipe that stands on its own, totally unique from the other moldy Carrot Jello wannabes.
I found the best Carrot Jello two summers ago in another state. It wasn't the kind that you can pack up and take home with you though I may or may not have tried to slyly stuff Carrot Jello into my suitcase to smuggle back home.
Anyway, I've been going through severe Carrot Jello withdrawal symptoms ever since.
So really, what choice did I have but to get on the phone and beg for a fresh shipment of Carrot Jello to be sent to me straight from the wilds of Seattle?
My bundle of Carrot Jello arrives today. I plan on experiencing a complete and total Carrot Jello overdose for the next 5 days.
I secretly want to keep Carrot Jello all to myself but if some of you are just dying to know where you too can get a heaping helping of delicious Carrot Jello you can go to her amazingly funny blog here: CARROT JELLO
She's also 100 percent cuter than that inferior Carrot Jello picture I posted at the top.
We have a whirlwind itinerary all lined up that includes: A stop to meet with the royal proprietor of Dumass Tacos, a date with the karaoke machine at Incredible Pizza (we're definitely going to rock a "Brandy" duet), dual chin plucking marathons, and maybe, as time permits, we'll even engage in some adventures in roach killing.
Here in Texas the roaches are not only as long as your middle finger but they also fly. We'll need cucaracha nets and safari hats equipped with a built-in RAID sprayer.
Act now and maybe some of you can book this first-class Carrot Jello to show up in your city for a special appearance. Perhaps this can turn into the Carrot Jello World Tour 2009. The first stop on the tour? H-Town: Home of The Smiling Infidel!

Dropping The F Bomb On The Ones You Love....

So me and my sexy-Mexi husband Papi were lounging about in bed on Sunday night, ready to drift off into the land of Infidel dreams, when I suddenly turned to him and eagerly whispered "Hey, I really want to EFF you right here, right now" into his ear.

Startled and perhaps a bit frightened, Papi looked at me askance with his lovely manicured eyebrows arched over huge, rounded eyes.

Undeterred, I persisted. "Yeah, come on, Papi, you know that you need a good effing and it just so happens that I'm available to give it to you hard and fast."

And without further commentary I rolled over and stealthily effed Papi's mocha-toned belly with the loudest mouth farts mankind has ever heard outside of the Association for Professional Raspberry Blowers. I exerted so much effort I nearly asphyxiated myself.

Papi informed me that I was "freaking crazy" as he grabbed the bed sheet and daintily dabbed at the remaining spittle encircling his belly button.

See, there's two 4-letter F words used in the Infidel household: Fart and Foof. If I ever tell you that I'm going to "EFF you up real bad" you should tremble in fear because that usually means that either your olfactory senses are about to be assaulted or you're slated to receive a charitable donation of Smiling Infidel saliva somewhere on your person. My personal foofing technique involves a preference for flabby arms as it usually provides superb foofy-fart acoustics.

When people shrilly scream "EFF OFF!" at me, I regard that as a spirited but friendly call to some sort of impromptu FOOF smackdown challenge. Ooooh, an EFF OFF competition. Good thing I packed some Chapstick. This is going to be a long day.

I don't mean to turn this into a braggy blog but the truth is that I have, in fact, effed a lot of people in my 34 years on this planet. That number includes my own self. Yeah, that's right, I eff myself sometimes. When I think about you, I FOOF myself......... Yep, I'm a regular F***(FOOF) Extraordinaire! I also have a lot of kids. I guess that makes me the very embodiment of a Mother F***er (Foofer.) Sweet!

*Gratuituous FOOFING Action In This Video. Watch At Your Own Risk!*