Monday, December 29, 2008

It has come to this and I blame America

Some of you may or may not have noticed that a bunch of anonymous people began posting ridiculous comments on this blog, which has caused me to turn on comment moderation.

It all began back when America was born out of the grungy vagina that is ignorance. Some years later, a site named came along. Although the site is great and has been the source of laughter for me for many years now, the people that come along with it are horribly, horribly stupid.

A particular commenter by the name of "Lee: Your Internet Stalker" chose to make a disparaging comment to me in a private message, totally unprovoked.

Here is his avatar... (which as he has indicated many times, is a real, unironic photo of himself and his dog. On his boat. Presumably in international waters where no one can hear you yelp. Embracing eachother. Very gayly.)

Alright now here is his avatar explained...

When I finally got around to noticing his message (over three months later), I messaged him politely telling him to shut his fat Michael Moore 40 year old face and that if he didn't comply I was going to fuck his gay little dog. That's right. That Dog. In its ass.

Harsh? Yes. An overexaggeration? Sure. Really going to happen? Never. Not in a million years, ever.

Sully Sullivan does not, nor will he ever, have sex with animals. Sully Sullivan makes funny jokes and sometimes fat grad student dog clutchers take them seriously. After taking my comment seriously, Lee proceeded to rally up his merry old gang of people who have way too much time on their hands and have them message me on as well as post disgustingly unorginal comments on my blog.

So here we are now. I've turned on comment moderation, not because I am a pussy, but because I am better than you. You will not be satisfied. The day you squeeze one ounce of satisfaction out of me is the day that I am blowing it across your face in the form a huge juicy load. Now go back to where your mundane and uninspired "jokes" can get lost in the shuffle with the other 1000000 piece of shit wastes of time. I will add that, if I'm a "pussy" for turning on comment filtering, then what does that make someone who posts tough guy insults anonymously on someone's personal blog? An American, probably.

For your pleasure, here is the unedited transcript of mine and Lee's private message exchange on It's fairly lengthy so don't feel obligated to read it if you don't want to. There are some gems in there though...

(ps to my loyal American readers, I love you guys. YOU are the one exception to the rule. Please keep smiling.)

September 03, 2008
If I paypal you $30, will you chemically castrate yourself so tha you will never EVER breed? I can go as high as $65. Let's make a deal so that your bloodline is cut off now.

December 18, 2008
I understand that you're probably mad that I'm pretty funny and you're not really funny at all. Plus, my bloodline will continue on either way because I have already fucked your little dog. She had a full litter of sully/puppy combos. It was magnificent.Thanks for your interest in me, Michael Moore.

December 19, 2008
You're really funny? Wow. I guess I didn't notice the huge amount of likes on your articles of comedy genius. You know, professional comedy sites tend to send funny articles national. Those tend to get likes and positive comments too. That being said, thank you for agreeing to fucking dogs. If you feel like burning yourself anymore, be my guest.

December 22, 2008
How many of your articles have gone national? Do you even write or are you someone who sits around his college dorm trying to blast people on a comedy site while pretending your dog is a goatee? On that note, your dog was a very special exception. Normally I only have sex with humans, but your dog was just so slutty and I was just so drunk.

(This is where Lee tries to get all Horatio from CSI on me. No such luck, dumb fuck.)

December 22, 2008
I think I get what you're saying. You're saying you fuck dogs, right?

December 22, 2008
LOL what? You're such a sick freak. Stop messaging me...lolllllll. Go take your little dog and your fat Michael Moore shaped body and go somewhere else. I suggest 1930's Germany. Freak.

December 22, 2008
Go somewhere else? I believe I was at Collegehumor first.

December 23, 2008
Well my dad can beat up your dad.I guess we'd probably have to find him first though, right? You reek of bastard. Clutching that dog like it's your only friend in the entire world.If your Dad didn't love you, that's okay. I totally understand where he's coming from.

December 23, 2008
Your dad is a Canadian and mine is an ex-US Marine. I think my Dad has the upper hand there, Canuck.You're the one who vainly posts inane articles on CH as though it were your personal blog only to receive self-likes. And yes, my dog is my friend. Therefore, you are not allowed to fuck my dog. I know that you really want to. I've read the comments on your blog.Just delete your collegehumor account. The insults/comments on there will never stop.

(Oh Lee, you're even more retarded than your picture implies...)

December 23, 2008
Judging by the fact that you look to be pushing 40, I'd guesstimate that your dad has trouble fighting off diarrhea. Plus there's no way an ex-marine could produce such a faggy looking dog hugging pussychild. Just not possible.Deleting my is the very last thing that I will do.Wait...LOL...I just realized that you're under the impression that these incessant messages from you and your dick twirling fag platoon are bothering me...Hahahaha that is fucking priceless. I'm sitting in my office right now, almost everyone else is off on vacation, and you guys are literally passing my day for me. While I get paid.It's beautiful. I get a lame ass message from some lame ass lamey lame-o lamester lame guy, then I think of a witty response and write it.Dear God I hope I'm wrong. I really hope this isn't some campaign to get me to delete my account, because, my friend, it is having the exact opposite effect. I'm more interested in this site now than I have been in years.Rally the troops, Lee. I'm not finished work until 5.

5 days ago
So am I a 40 year old man or a student sitting in my dorm posting on CH? You've accused both so I'm feeling a sense of confusion from your direction.

5 days ago
Clearly you're both, Lee. You need to keep the fuck up. And for christ sakes, please stop creepily smelling your dog's hair. I'm really starting to believe that you're actually the dog fucker and this is all a sick turn at projecting your illness onto me.Grow up man. You digust me.

5 days ago
Or that's a picture of my dog at 40 mph offshore in one of my boats. And I believe you're the only one here who's "bragged" about fucking dogs. [citation: previous messages/blog comments]

5 days ago
So you're going 40 mph in "one of your boats" and smelling your dog while someone else (presumably a camera on a tripod with a timer set) takes pictures? You're sick.

5 days ago
Yeah, how dare I commemorate the first time my dog made the trip with us out into international waters. I'll tell the driver not to do that next time. I would offer the same advice to you, but let's face it: you don't even have one boat, do you?

5 days ago
Hahahaha get tired of the blog comments?

(You can almost smell the false sense of accomplishment in that message. That is truly pathetic. And also false. Please, Lee, do not forget the "false" part.)

3 hours ago
I can see you haven't gotten tired of posting them. Which is so sad that I probably don't even need to point out how sad it is as it has to be obvious to both of us.No I don't own a boat. Why in the hell would I own a boat? So I can tie a table napkin around my dog's neck, put on a baseball hat from a college I never went to, and snap photos of myself? No thanks.Anyhow congratulations on your parents owning a boat. Do you assume credit for all of their achievements and possessions as if even an ounce of your own effort went into attaining them? If anything they would have had MORE boats if they hadn't blown 15 grand on a semester and a half of college for you.

3 hours ago
Oh and....(1) that's a life vest the dog's wearing

(2) that's not a college hat i'm wearing
(3) it's my boat. in my name. bought with my money.

2 hours ago
Oh and....(1) That's so sad. I bet you dress him up on Halloween, too
(2) Nobody actually cares
(3) Further confirming my suspicions that you are 40+. Why are you on a college humor site when you are clearly 47 years old and Michael Moore?

1 hour ago
i can't be a 23 year old in grad school with a career in pharma research?

35 minutes ago
You could be a 7 year old dyslexic pengiun with 1986 Ford Mustangs for hands.

You could be an advanced shapeshifting cyborg sent back through time to star opposite Arnold Schwarzeneggar in a blockbuster, ground breaking sci-fi epic who never realized fame larger than that and ended up settling for being a poor man's David Duchovny and getting run out of business by Tony Soprano on the critically acclaimed mob drama, The Sopranos.

You could be anything dusted with everything, coated in peanut brittle, but what you look a 47 year old Michael Moore impersonator clutching his dog on open waters. Which, I'll admit, is the only feasible description a pharma research grad student could possibly fit. So I guess I stand corrected.

Lee, if you're out there, and something tells me that you very much are out there, consider this the sweet closure of our brief but wonderous time on the internet together. I will no longer acknowledge you as something that deserves to exist.

Thanks for the material, though!

Monday, December 8, 2008

Plugging For A Friend

Yes, yes I have been absent again for quite some time. I am a horrible person and I invite any one of you to shoot me in the face. I wouldn't blame you for doing so.

Anyhow, to quench your blog thirst in times such as these when I'm off the map for a few weeks, I'll refer you to someone else.

Basically an old family friend has run into some trouble and has started a blog in order to fulfill his 600 hours of community service. I won't go into further detail you'll just have to see it to believe it. Anyhow he just started it over the weekend so I think there's only one or two posts, but go have a look...

Irrational Love Line


Thursday, November 20, 2008

Thoughts From My Office

- There's this fucking bagel shop downstairs and the bagel lady always cuts the bagel in half all the way down until like an inch from the bottom. So then, when I try to separate it, that shit rips apart and the bagel's guts (cream cheese) fly out everywhere and it’s messy. I don't get it...does she get like 90% of the way down then freaks out and stops? Does she have a fucked up bagel cutting phobia?

And here's my question: what in the fuck is she doing working in a bagel shop if she has some sort of bagel cutting phobia?

That's retarded.


- I have to admit something to all of you. I fucking love highlighting things. Every time a task calls for me to highlight things I just get real deal excited to highlight shit. Between me and you, sometimes the task doesn't require me to highlight anything, but I do it anyways.

I do it Yellow, pink, and sometimes even blue if I'm feeling frisky. I'm just really into highlighting stuff. I'll go on record...Highlighting: its what Sully is really really into.


-The Do's and Don’ts of Working in My Office Cafeteria

*DO: Use the same tongs to handle both vegan veggie wraps and dirty greasy bacon strips

*DON'T: Take off your plastic gloves before scratching the back of your thigh

*DO: Be inconsistent with how much feta cheese you put on everyone's Greek salad.

*DON'T: Worry about handling the massive line of customers gathering at your stand because your Polish conversation with co-workers is far more important.

*DO: Look at customers like they are mental when they ask for extra mozzarella on their chicken cutlet

*DON'T: Under any circumstances show the slightest hint of emotion

*DO: Let your extremely old (grand?)mother with swollen ankles sit in a chair near your stand and stare ominously at everyone who approaches and gross them out with said swollen ankles at the very time that they do not want to be grossed out at all

*DON'T: Ever break, bend, or circumvent any rule no matter how needless it may be because "that's how Hitler got started."


Final Thoughts...

All in all I actually do really like corporate life. They gave us free cotton candy earlier this year. Hey! $2 sundaes once a week, can't beat that right? They let you apply your own syrup too, which makes a world of difference. Who the fuck can tell me how much syrup I need? Having to dress up all the time is a pain in the ass, but I stick it to them about the dress code in ways they'll never figure out. For example, I am not wearing any underwear right now.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Starbucks, America, Money, Love, Respect, Starbucks

Starbucks fourth quarter profit drops 97 per cent on closure costs

So I saw something terribly startling on the front page of Yahoo! Canada today. Apparently Starbucks is going down the great grande double mocha shitter in the sky. This, as I’m sure you all know, comes as sad news to me. Being the thick rimmed glasses, scarf wearing, messy haired, too poor to be a yuppie, but too rich to be in a struggling band type of guy that I am; this startling twist of events has hit me like a spin kick to my testicles.

My most immediate concern is the baristas. Oh lonely, sarcastic, Starbucks baristas. Who will you scoff at and talk ill of when there are no more customers to be served? You can’t make sarcastic remarks while serving coffee to your parents, because, after all, you are living under their roof and they are paying for your liberal arts degree. My guess is you’ll be trading that green apron for a blue one and greeting people with that trademark coffee barista sneer down at the local Walmart where you’ll try to sell discount denim in size venti.

On that topic, let me be the first to say that I will dearly miss ordering my coffee in classy Italian sizes (is it Italian? I’m too sad to research it). The amounts of pride I’ve drawn from strolling up to the counter and playing gay interior decorator while describing every last colour, hue, hint and sprinkle of my order will be greatly missed. This morning I dropped to my knees and thanked God that I wasn’t a writer (wait, am I a writer?).

Be prepared to experience a shortage of reading material rivaled only by the pre-printing press era. Every writer who has nursed their drink like a freshman at a strip club trying to squeeze every last drop of bandwidth out of the free internet access is utterly screwed. I feel for these people. Thinking that Joe Writer will no longer have a place to sit in a comfy lounge chair for six hours with a, "I'm in deep thought" look in his eyes as he types “I'm gonna get pussy” over and over while acting like he’s banging out the next ‘Catcher in the Rye’ is a burden I cannot possibly bear. This madness must end.

At this time I can’t help but draw comparisons between the late great Kurt Cobain and Starbucks. Both from Seattle, each perfected their art in a way that allowed them to act like they invented it. This inflated sense of self-superiority allowed both to act like their shit didn't stink and the public ate it up. Both saw their rise to popularity come swift and thunderous, and in the end both died by their own hands in a sea of depression and a lack of self identity. I blame myself and all of you for demanding too much of their craft while merely overpaying every step of the way. Come on, guys. We can do better than that.

It’s not too late. We can save Starbucks. We can get out there today and order a cinnamon spice mocha with no foam and a pinch of nutmeg or a caramel apple cider easy on the whipped cream but heavy on the chocolate shavings. It’s the least we can do for a friend. The type of friend that does so so much for us and asks for nothing in return; nothing but $5 dollars for a fucking cup of fucking coffee.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

"Michael: Really? No Seriously, What The Fuck?" Issue #2

Well after like 3/4 of a year I am here with your second installment of "Michael: Really? No Seriously, What The Fuck?". If you missed the last issue or need a refresher, go here.

Alright so this issue is instructional: It's more of a manual than anything else. Let's get right to it.


Now we've all found ourselves in the scenario where you are talking to your roomate and making fun of a famous person who has recently died. Naturally, because they are a giant nerd, they take offense to it and say, "Michael Crichton was one of the world's best authors and you're making fun of him, and you're an asshole." Aside from your roomate's comments being blatantly wrong since Michael Crichton was not the greatest writer, they're also a little annoying.


Go on MSN and message every mutual friend you have; facebook so many people that you have to create three separate private messages due to recipient caps on Facebook private messaging; and e-mail everyone in his office, which is also your former office, with this simple message:

"yo can you do me a huge favor and msn/call/facebook message/e-mail [Michael] when you get a chance and, in a very serious tone, offer your condolences to him over the death of Michael Crichton, author of Jurassic Park. Also, try not to mention I put you up to it either, THX"


Sit back and laugh as many of the literally hundreds of people you have contacted barrage your roomate through every modern communication medium with sincere condolences regarding the death of one Michael Crichton, author of Jurassic Park.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Look I'm Not Even Sorry.

If you've come here today for an apology, you can just get the hell out of my face because you're not getting one.

I've been away for a LONG time and I know this. So long, in fact, that I forget what most of you look like. That probably isn't a bad thing. Anyhow, as I have already stated, there will be no apologies so we'll all have to settle for an explanation. It's simple, really. My job is making me busier than I have ever been before. I used to take advantage of my "slow days" and post on here while I was on the clock. That is a luxury I can no longer afford, my friends and enemies.

I will be posting from time to time and I also have an idea for a new blog (more on that at a later date, ie. probably never).

I figure that since I'm here I'll ask for some ideas again. The situation will be similar (re: exactly the same) to this post. So send them along because you are much much more creative than I am. I'll do my best to accommodate every idea.

Also, I have some interesting news. I really like using CAPS lock in instant messaging and e-mails. It really drives the point home. Observe.



IMAGINE ME SAYING THIS WHILE HAVING MY TEETH DRILLED AND THE DOCTOR CAN ONLY WORK EFFICIENTLY IF VAN HALEN IS CRANKED AND ALL THE HYGIENISTS ARE SINGING BACK UP. I don't even know what that one is, but notice that when using CAPS lock, punctuation is unnecessary and run on sentences are encouraged.

One more? Alright fine.


CAPS lock.



Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Your Ridiculous News - September 9th/10th Edition

Oasis Gets Rocked

"Oasis guitarist Noel Gallagher was attacked by an audience member during the band’s set at the Virgin Festival in Toronto. As evidenced by the above video, the unnamed assailant appears from stage right and pushes Noel into his monitor while the band played 'Morning Glory.' The man then attempts to confront singer Liam Gallagher before being promptly restrained by security (who also had to restrain Liam from punching the assailant). The band followed the attack with a short break before returning to the stage to resume their set. The unnamed attacker was later charged with assault."
-Rolling Stone Website (Video Courtesy of

I'll start by saying that the attacker's name is also my uncle's name. That's not really relevant in any way, but when it's 8 am and you're on your way to work...for almost a second you truly believe that your uncle attacked Oasis. In that brief moment, you're more alive than you've ever been.

Anyhow, this is brilliant in so many ways. I've always liked Oasis as musicians, but as human beings, it doesn't get much more annoying than two melodramatic brothers who can't seem to get along regardless of how much money hinges upon their unity.

It all went down in my hometown. The hero in our story decided that he'd heard "What's The Story (Morning Glory)" one too many times and that song names with bracketed items in them are very very stupid. Succumbing to the anger brewing deep inside his belly, he rushed the stage. Once on the stage, he violently tackled both brothers simultaneously (KILLER COMBO!!!), and was promptly arrested (OH NO! GAME OVER!!!). Apparently Noel's rib was fractured in the exchange, but he was probably going to have that removed anyway.

Obama VS Palin: Who's liberal-er?

"Sen. John McCain has wiped away many of Sen. Barack Obama's pre-convention advantages, and the race for the White House is now basically deadlocked at 47 percent for Obama and 46 percent for McCain among registered voters, according to a new Washington Post-ABC News poll. The presidential contest is also about even among those who are the most likely to vote in November: 49 percent for McCain, 47 percent for Obama."
-Washington Post

Well it wasn't really supposed to happen this way. The plan was that people would get all jollied up with the false hope of a democrat being back in the oval office and then the gun toting, red blooded Americans with obese children that comprise most of America would crush said jollies by electing McCain by a narrow margin.

Well FUCK THAT. Cat's outta the bag apparently. Barack "Mortal Kombat 3" Obama is already falling behind in the polls. You just have to love the republicans for saying, "Oh you have a black guy? Well CHECK THIS Alaskan MILF hockey-mom with a pregnant teen daughter and a down syndrome son. BOOMSHAKALAKA...Bank it, motherfuckers."

And the American public has. End of story. At least B-rack (not to be confused with your girlfriend's chest) can now look forward to not being assassinated.

Tom Brady Goes Down
On Giselle Bundchen then goes out and fucks up his knee while playing football

"Brady, the 2007 NFL Most Valuable Player, will miss the rest of the season because of a left knee injury that needs surgery, the Patriots said Monday...Brady’s knee collapsed under him when he was hit by safety Bernard Pollard in a 17-10 victory over the Chiefs."
-Kansas City Star

If, while I was counting the money that I earned betting against the Patriots in the Superbowl last year, you had said, "Man, something even more hilarious and tragic will happen to Tom Brady next season..." I would have replied with bright eyes, "What? Is Giselle Bundchen gonna turn out to be a guy?"

Although that probably would have been funnier, this is still pretty damn delicious in my books. It appears that Tom Brady has blown a hammy or torn an MCL or (fingers crossed) had his leg snapped off at the hands of Bernard Pollard, who I will now be referring to as "Football Jesus the Magnificent One". Ah well, the injury comes at a good time for Brady who has been looking to focus on modelling underwear and stalking red carpets at celebrity events like a hungry puma. He has also announced plans to work at a soup kitchen feeding the homeless...out of his chin dimple. Meanwhile, Matt Cassel (pictured below) has already bricked in his pants just thinking about the pressure he's about to feel for the next 15 weeks.

I have a friend who owns a Tom Brady jersey and wears it every Sunday. I wonder if they sell Tom Brady knee braces.

Love Advice
In a new addition to my (sort of) recurring "Ridiculous News" feature, I will be answering REAL love advice questions from a free local newspaper here in Toronto called 24 Hours. (Yes, it is based on the hit television series by habitual drunken Canadian, Kiefer Sutherland.) Anyhow, here's today's question...

"In the past, I have entered into relationships that in some way seemed to compromise what I really wanted in a partner. I had the belief that if you can learn to love someone, it will be fine.
After two unsuccessful marriages and a recent failed relationship, I came to the conclusion that I won't be one of the lucky ones to find that one special person we all seem to want. Am I right?"

-Tired, Toronto

Hi Tired,
In a nut shell: yes you are right. You're extremely desperate. That much is clear. What isn't clear is who exactly you're looking for. Batman? Is it the guy from the Dos Equis beer commercials? Perhaps you would like to marry The Fonz? (not present day Henry Winkler...gross)

What you need to do is settle. First of all, you're asking love advice from a psychic...who writes for a free newspaper...that people use as napkins on the subway. That's not good. That simple fact alone would lead me to believe that you are far too inept to ever be loved by anyone. Second, there is no second. You're just not good enough.

My honest advice: If you are, in fact, so tired of all this, maybe you should just fall asleep...forever. Catch my drift?

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

The New Fall Season - YAYYYYY!

Prison Break

Synopsis: A ridiculous-as-need-be drama that's addicting based solely upon the principle that people like to make fun of things. The writers of this show are stupid. There is no need to be witty. They are. Just. Stupid. Or Rain Man-like savants. I haven't decided yet.

What to look for this season:
-William Fitchner continuing to be the only person on set who is familiar with the term: "acting"
-Apparently the broad who was dead really isn't dead. This is to say that the show’s writers finally admitted to themselves that the plot is just waaaaaaaaaaaaay too thin without her. She has her head sewed back on in the first episode or something.

How it could be better: Just send in the fucking giant albatross that swoops down and whisks all the "good guys" away from danger. PLEASE.

Terminator the TV Show

Synopsis: Arnold Schwarzenegger said one line in a sequel to a decent movie in 1991 and here we are today...

What to look for this season:

-another show to watch

How it could be better: Eddie Furlong + Heroin = YESSSSSSS!


Synopsis: This is a pretty good show, I'll admit. This is your grandfather's type of television, though. It’s reliable, not too flashy but still entertaining, routine...very very very very routine. Fast fact: this show is written using a mad libs template. Let's take a look at episode one of this season(click for larger version)...

What to look for this season:
-House one-liners finally becoming boring to the general public and not just me (THANK GOD!)
-Omar Epps, the Australian guy, and the young girl all being disrespected by House repeatedly. The three new people also being disrespected by House repeatedly.
-House disrespecting everyone. Repeatedly.

How it could be better: I think we all know what we want...we want to see House cry

Beverly Hills 90210

Synopsis: The whole gang is back, minus all the good looking people and Tori Spelling, and they're itching to get up to their classic hijinks in a whole new decade. Returning to the show are Shannen Doherty and Jennie Garth who'll join a fresh new cast of future drug addicts, date rapers, and peach pit workers.

What to look for this season:
- a host of unexpected cameos by characters such as Dylan's deadbeat dad who died, the girls who stole Steve's corvette, cross eyed try-hard Andrea, Steve's blond afro mullet, etc.
- yet another Kelly Taylor drug addiction
- this time Donna Martin ACTUALLY doesn't graduate

How it could be better: Brian Austen Green dance solos forever.

Boston Legal

Synopsis: Funny creepy meets creepy creepy when William Shatner and James Spader team up yet again for the show's 5th season (I know I'm as surprised as you are).

What to look for this season:
-hopefully more of that hot piece of tail Candice Bergen
-Camryn Manheim reprises her role as the intimidating dude from the original show "The Practice"
-A shit-load more of James Spader's signature cocked-chin pervert leer.


Two and a Half Men

Synopsis: Named after the amount of normal men it would take to watch as much porno as Charlie Sheen, this show returns to defend its title of Best Sitcom on Television (according to people who have obviously never seen The Office).

What to look for this season:
-Charlie sheen dies....his hair blonde and poses as Denise Richards in order to legally see his children
- the "half" part of the shows sees a lot more screen time. Oh, and the kid has a lot of scenes too

How it could be better: Cast Overhaul -- Charlie Sheen keeps his role, the other "man" is replaced by Martin Sheen and the "half" character is now played by Emilio Estevez

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

The Suburban Neighborhood Super Heroes

So imagine the neighborhood was a comic book (or saturday morning cartoon show, for you illiterate sons of bitches). These following people would be the stars of the show as they are the SUBURBAN NEIGHBORHOOD SUPERHEROES!

AKA: Shirtless Lawn Mower Guy

Powers: Durable skin allows him to be shirtless regardless of climate, green
ankles, overabundance of areola hair, immune to the effects of gasoline inhalation

Haven't been grossed out today? Yearning to be uncomfortable? A fan of awkward eye
contact? Yardo Skintastic is here to help. It's late October, you've finally
broken out the polar fleece fall sweater and you're coming around the corner at
the end of your street. You hear that unmistakable's YARDO SKINTASTIC!
His man tits are hanging and his denim shorts are thigh high. All of a sudden
you don't feel like lunch. Once again, Yardo has saved the day!


AKA: The Couple Who Pops In Then Never Leaves

Powers: Inherent immunity to boredom, can produce questions at a super-human rate, impervious to hints
In the middle of something really important? Just ready to sit down to dinner? Haven't even woke up yet? Dun DA comes the unstoppable duo of Captain Asks-A-Lot and The Sentence Finisher! One asks inappropriate questions while the other finishes each sentence in your response! Don't even think about implying that you have better things to do than interact with these heroes, because they know you don't!

AKA: The Neighborhood Gossip Queen.

Powers: Can dial a phone number in under 1 second, doesn't need to breathe between
sentences, can see through up to 5 different types of curtains

Wondering who's wife banged the mail man? Just shit your pants rushing to get your
house keys out? Missed the domestic disturbance last night? Never fear, all your
neighborhood newsy needs will be met and you won't even have to pick up your
phone! Gossipa is armed with destructive information and poised to materialize
from behind your bushes as soon as you get home!

AKA: Guy Who Always Has To Get The Best Deal

Powers: Impeccable garage sale detection senses, Costco membership, can haggle the
pants off an Eskimo, can maintain an erection for hours by simply looking at the
words: "or best offer"

Looking to be robbed blind selling your washing machine? Have too many VCRs in
your house? Sick and tired of re-stringing your guitar? The Deal Stealer will be
on the scene before you can even write the price on a sticky note. After a brief 5
hour negotiation in which he pretends to walk away multiple times and insults you
twice, that thing you don't need anymore will be off your hands for far less than
you ever imagined selling it for! Hey and don't even worry about wanting to
rethink your decision because "a deal is a deal, pal!"

AKA: Guy Who's Always Working On or Cleaning His Car

Powers: skin grows white undershirts organically, slippery-est hands on the block,
enormous amounts of chest hair

Enjoy catching glimpses of hairy ass cracks? Have you always dreamed of being
whistled at while someone stares at your tits? Do you like being awoken to the
sound of a revving 8 cylinder on a Sunday morning? Dr. Automo KNOWS you do and
he's more than willing to satisfy all of those MORE. He'll even
come over and stand behind you while you rotate the tires on your car and point
out EACH and EVERY single mistake that you're making and then he’ll hit on your
wife right in front of you! On top of all that, he smells incredibly bad!

AKA: The Annoying Little Kids of the Neighborhood Who Screw Around Too Much

Powers: A superior toleration of handling dog shit, imaginations strong enough to
turn the hood of your car into a trampoline, much faster on foot than you are

You have an important possession that needs breaking? Haven't chased anything at
full speed in a while? Looking to blow a tire running over a bicycle? The Little
Shit Super Squad is on the scene! In fact, they've been on the scene all afternoon
while you've been slaving away at work and they are just waiting for you to sit
down with a glass of red wine so they can test your patience with a rousing game
of Nicky Nine doors.

AKA: Nosey Old War Vet Who's Always Complaining

Powers: Incredible repertoire of old-timey slang, ability to go from docile to
steaming in under 6 seconds, immunity to joy

Been yelled at for walking your dog lately? Hungry for a verbal assault consisting
mainly of phrases you don't understand? Craving a good hollerin' at and a steady
wallopin'? Wrinkles Von Ornery is just one screen door creak away from giving you the
business for starting your car too loudly or having children or keeping your grass too green. Having been through three wars and a depression, Wrinkles Von Ornery has a zero tolerance policy on things that are fun and exciting because those things always "doggone lead to no good".
Meanwhile back at Time Wasting Links Headquarters...
Yeah I realize that on my last post I said that the time wasting links would be updated shortly, but then I never updated them. I did this because I enjoy toying with your emotions. It makes me feel better about myself. Anyhow, they are ACTUALLY updated this time...
...or are they?
(They are)

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Your Ridiculous News


"A 7-year-old Chinese girl was not good-looking enough for the Olympics opening ceremony, so another little girl with a pixie smile lip-synched Ode to the Motherland, a ceremony official said -- the latest example of the lengths Beijing took for a perfect start to the Summer Games."
-Associated Press

You know what, I'm glad they did this. Honestly, ugly kids have no place in front of a television camera regardless of how hard they've worked or how much they deserve it. If I saw that ugly girl singing at the opening ceremonies I'd have to say to myself, "CHRIST! The rampant pollution, the almost tyrannical reign the government has taken in censorship, the lack of reliable local food, and that whole Tibet thing were passable, but this ugly little kid does it...the Olympics are now officially ruined." Guess what...I hate you China. Forever. Japan is about 1.3 billion times better than you. Hell, I'd take North Korea over you jackasses, and that is one hell of a strong statement. And no, I'm not a racist. I'm a retarded-country-ist.



"Ottawa [Canada] police say a report of a woman tied up and held in a car turned out to be two teenagers role-playing...Police say the woman was sitting in a black Fiat convertible, her mouth was covered by duct tape and her hands were bound by duct tape, and tied to the head rest. Police say the initial investigation shows the man and woman, both 18-years-old, are in a relationship and were role playing."
- 24 Hours (Canadian News Paper)

Wow. Thank god the cops didn't look down and see the strap-on she was wearing; otherwise it would have really been weird. Look, I'm not even that old and this story has left me saying, "Kids these days are fucked." (Mom, you may want to stop reading...) Yeah, I role played when I was younger, hell I still do now, but this may be pushing it to the limits a little bit. I'm no pussy, but I know the difference between good role playing and bad role playing, and when the police and a national newspaper are involved, it's safe to say that it is bad role playing. Ah well, lesson learned I guess. Try something a little more sane…like poo play.



"[Tori Spelling] walked away from the revamped TV show after discovering she is to be paid $10,000 to $20,000 US per episode -- less than half the figure former co-stars Jennie garth and Shannen Doherty are picking up to reprise their roles."
-METRO News Services

Um producer guys, you could get a real horse for $3600 a year. Chances are it will be a better actress and it'll definitely kick people in the abdomen a lot less. Like come on here Tori, I know you have to put oat bags on the table, and God knows your hasn't-acted-since-JAG husband isn't going to do it, but you're a horrible actress AND you're ugly as polka dots. Maybe you're still under the impression that you have even an ounce of talent, but guess what...YOUR DAD IS DEAD and any shot you ever had at being relevant died with him. The only chance you have at getting paid now would be to dig up his old rotting body and physically re-animate it a la Weekend at Bernie's and have it convince everyone that you have any business being anything but something little guys ride at the race track. To ask for more than $5 per lifetime is a slap in the face to Luke Perry's drug addiction and Jason Priestley's sideburns.



Country singer Carrie Underwood says that fame can hurt dating.

I'll be updating the links on the right soon. So hold tight, you'll be wasting time in no time.

Thanks for stopping by. Go fuck yourselves, San Diego!

Friday, August 8, 2008

Cars I'll Never Drive and The Assholes That Drive Them

Dukes of Hazard Car

A guy driving this would have to be named Zeke or Bo or something like that. To him, formal wear would be the gray wife-beater. You would think that gasoline fuels a car like this, but it's actually racism. It gets about a half gallon of racism to the mile, non-highway.

In The Glove Box: One of those old revolvers where you have to cock the hammer before each shot.

In The Trunk: "Urrrm...Rusty lawn chairs, a 24 of Bud, and the kids ‘cuz my fishin' buddies are takin' up all them seats"

Pontiac TransAm

A guy driving this car surely still lives at home. He's got his guitar and amps set up in the garage and mom doesn't even care if he smokes in there. His hair? Long and frizzy. His highlights? Blond. His t-shirt? "Van Halen 1984 Worldwide Tour, I was THERE, MAAAAN!" Enough said. The car has to be parked on the lawn because his garage is stacked high with demo tapes and unrealized dreams.

In The Glove Box: The gnarliest collection of cassette tapes ever assembled.

In The Trunk: "Demo tapes, brother...tell your friends. This is the year of Silver Magma Poison Lion!!!"

Volkswagen Beetle

The gent driving this car is lean, mean, and…British? This car just screams pussy, but not the kind that you intercourse. There's a spot of tea on the passenger's side and I'm not talking about stains. The fine English leather upholstery happens to also be the favorite cologne of this wheelman, which makes the "racing" stripes embarrassing for everyone. These cars run on fluoride which accounts for the rarity of it being found in British drinking water and dental offices.

In The Glove Box: handkerchiefs and mystery novels

In The Boot: "Some crisps, a carton of fags, and a mess of lagers to forget me cock ups and get right arseholed. Then maybe I'll pull a dishy bird and bonk her with the old John Thomas. This bender will be the dog's bollocks!" (British Dictionary)

Shitty Run-down Station Wagon

Anyone driving this car has given up on their dreams. They probably didn't plan on having 3 brat kids, an obese wife, and a pile of bills, but hey...what can you do right? He has sex twice a year (his birthday and anniversary), and honestly, he's sick of it. Life isn't worth living anymore and last week, he stood on the train tracks and was about one more diet Fanta away from jumping in front of a speeding steam engine. He went home and masturbated quietly in the basement instead.

In The Glove Box: Snacks for the kids (wife), soda for the kids (wife), appetite suppressants for the kids (do I really have to say it again? wife.)

In The trunk: "Trunk? What the heck is a trunk? There's a hatch back there, that's where the dog sleeps, but he's sick. The operation is too expensive."

Ferrari Enzo

The guy who drives this car's dad was extremely successful. Now while he's at the office closing big shot important business deals, his son is out chasing ass at the gym, buying rounds of wheat shakes on the credit card his dad still pays for. The Enzo is a little cramped to have sex in, but that's okay because his dates always seem to get really tired right when he's about to make his move.

In The Glove Box: Dad's check book, dad's credit card, and dad's reminder note to "pick up his goddamn dry cleaning on time this time"

In The Trunk: "Oh it's jam packed back there. I have a tube of Mentos and a day-planner."

Jeep with No Doors

Ah yes, the California douche bag special. The owner of this bad boy took off the roof cover to give his faux-hawk some breathing space. The room created by removing the doors provides freedom to pack this beast full of high school girls who don't know any better. Research (that I just conducted in my head) shows that this is the car most likely to be driven drunk; which is great because, according to more imaginary research, the idiot drunk driving this is most likely to not be missed when he rolls the son of a bitch off a California cliff side.

In The Glove Box: Mousse, gel, hair spray, surfboard wax

In The Trunk: "There's no trunk, brosef...just heavenly babes lathered to perfection in only the finest of tanning oils."
The time wasting linkings on the right have been updated.
Thanks for stopping by my blog.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

The Mike Tyson Mansion: A Look Back

Recently, pictures of Mike Tyson's mansion surfaced on the internet. Normally, I would pass on such a beaten topic as Mike Tyson, but since no one ever got much of a glimpse into his home I figured this would at least be relatively fresh.

Now, some of the things I say in this entry are going to be both extremely offensive and most likely in poor taste, but only to Mike Tyson. Really, who gives a shit about Mike Tyson's feelings? He's the total embodiment of the immature reckless athlete with absolutely no brains and way too much brawn persona that haunted our gym change rooms in high school. Well actually, Mike goes way beyond that. Either way, if you have some sort of soft spot for Iron Mike or you happen to be at the welfare office and he's standing directly behind you right now, just click the back button on your browser, because this will probably get ugly.

Although his trials and tribulations have been well documented, let's take a brief run down of possibly the most disgusting man to have ever been born...

-squandered over $300 million dollars in career earnings
-arrested 38 times by the age of 13
-his video game for the Nintendo Entertainment System, "Mike Tyson's Punch Out", was extremely frustrating and nearly impossible to beat
-convicted of the rape of a beauty pageant contestant in 1992
-lost a rematch against Evander Holyfield due to the routine and commonplace ruling of disqualification by ear biting
-went to jail again in 1999 on charges stemming from a road rage incident in which he kicked a man in the nuts and punched a 62 year-old
-the tattoo on his face is stupid
-in 2006 he came dangerously close to crashing into a police SUV and was subsequently arrested on DUI charges
-he talks like a 6 year old boy who just smacked his nuts off a frozen lamp post

So please don't come crying to me when I crack extremely mean jokes about his obese sister or manic depression because he deserves every last bit of it. Now on to the tour of the Tyson Mansion (photos courtesy of

First Stop...The Den

I imagine this is the room that he committed the bulk of his rapes in. It looks like something a pimp sneezed. You remember those trashy people in the neighborhood who often wore track pants and no socks? I think Mike Tyson had the same table as them. The design on said table was probably the inspiration for that ridiculous face tattoo.

Next stop...The Entertainment Room

This room boasted BOTH zebra AND tiger print rugs, which is probably the classiest thing since framed optical illusion prints started invading people's front hallways. Also exuding high amounts of class was the capsized canoe roof. The excessive space in this room really deepened the sound of abusive language and outrageous proclamations. Half pictured on the right side of the photo is a fully functional sundae bar, but we'll get to that later.

Now we move to...The Pool

Believe it or not, the pool has actually become cleaner since Mike abandoned this house. The hand rails on the diving board, along with latex water wings and a 24 hour team of prostitutes lifeguards, supplemented Tyson's strict code of safety conduct when raping women around the pool. Also, his wide variety of bastard children frequently enjoyed this part of the house.

And now...The Main Foyer

Many unsuspecting women have made the ascent up those stairs to Mike Tyson's bedroom and let’s just say none of them were gleefully sliding down those gold banisters the next morning; although specially formulated KY Jelly was afforded to any who may have chosen to do so. The archway led to a huge private theatre that boasted a vast library of 1 movie: The Lion King 2: Simba's Pride; which played around the clock without cessation...

And Noooooooooooooooooooow....Theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee....MAIN EVENT
The Sundae Bar

Yes, Mike Tyson had his very own Sundae Bar where guests could choose between the flavors: bankruptcy berry blast, heavenly hash pipe, or rocky road rage. A ton of different sundae dressings were also available. Sundae bar patrons could dazzle their ice cream with things like sprinkles, cherries, ear lobes, peanut crumble, shredded $100 bills, chocolate sauce, crystal meth, caramel squares, m & m's, and jail time. Retrospectively, most friends of Tyson cite the Sundae Bar as the sole reason they were friends with him.

The hotlinks have been updated on the right. Enjoy wasting your time and, subsequently, getting for in trouble for it...SUCKERS.

Oh and hey, tell your ear biting rapist criminal friends about my blog please.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Toodles Google AdSense

I'd like to say I was the bigger man. I'd like to say that I sat up one morning and kicked "the man" in the shins and got on the horn to Google AdSense and said, "I'm not being a whore anymore. Go masturbate yourselves."

It didn't quite work that way. Truth be told, they dumped me. However, I'm here to say on this fine Tuesday morning that I really don't give a care. I bashed Hollister and they put Hollister ads on my site. I tore a strip off of Subway and the very next morning Google AdSense was asking my readers if they were interested in a "Fresh Subway Sandwich".

Aside from making me look like a jackass with their inept trolling software, they also put some plain weird crap on here. "Child Birth Videos" comes to mind immediately. I guess this was a product of my "Celebrity Baby Nostradamus" article or maybe I had tagged something with "creepy" or "more disgusting than anal grandpa intercourse", but honestly I don't remember doing that. For all you baby pervs out there, you're going to have to look elsewhere to fulfill your disgusting child birth video needs because I will no longer be satiating them.

Here's what they told me...

"...we found that your AdSense account has posed a significant risk to our AdWords advertisers. Since keeping your account in our publisher network may financially damage our advertisers in the future, we've decided to disable your account." (Aside: I'm getting this printed on a t-shirt so the ladies know how badass I am. Nothing is sexier than being a 'significant internet risk')

The above basically means..."We are retarded. Although we are a subsidiary of a multi-billion dollar online company, we haven't bothered to design trolling software (the application that searches the tags on a site and assigns appropriate ads to the AdSense spaces) sophisticated enough to determine whether the tags are associated with negative content. We offer our ourselves for being dumber than a sack of toilet seats."

Ah well. Between me and you, I wasn't making very much money off of those ads anyways and I'll admit that it was a little shitty of me to put ads on my blog. Lesson learned. From here on out, I'll just sit back with a refreshing Diet Pepsi and bang out ad-free blogs on my efficient and affordable Dell computer with the clean conscience of knowing that my Dodge Charger Blog of the Week is free of any ads. I thank you for staying with me through these ridiculous times of unnecessary advertising and also, next tax season...think of H&R Block.


I had a feeling you may need to waste some time today so I updated the Web Links section on the right. Enjoy...

Friday, July 18, 2008

Helpful Suggestions Humoured

Alright so the post before this one was an explanation of my brief hiatus. I asked readers to give me suggestions on my next blog and I got some responses. Here are the answers to them. The questions can be found in the "comments" link on the post before this one. I chose not to post the questions in this blog because it would have made it that much longer than it already is and I don't want to discourage my lazier readers with a massive post. Enjoy...

For Kori:
-So some old broad has been widowed 5 times and police are now finally suspecting foul play. Apparently American cops aren't what they are portrayed as on the television. When a woman is widowed five times across four states, she's either a cold blooded murder machine or a member of the circus. Someone call up Dennis Franz. Something tells me his calendar is wide open.

- So two GIGANTIC plus-sized morons were coming back from a baseball game and decided to stand up on the top level of a double-decker bus speeding through the Washington D.C. area. Now I know what you're thinking and no...this is not the premise for Speed 3, I already did that one. Reporters are now challenging the safety of these buses, while other, smarter people are challenging the safety of letting reporters report on things.

- So Kori, you dislike Fox News headlines? Here's one for you: "Fox News Headline Writer Out of Ink and Forehead Space, Confused."

For Alice:

I did my best. It's all I could rustle up on short notice. He's a dandy, though, isn't he?

For Catscratch:
1. What's your favorite drink?
-Non-Alcoholic: Dad's brand Root Beer, Alcoholic: Beer
2. What do you do to amuse yourself?
- see #5
3. What kind of blog is your favorite kind of blog?
- anything with that Sully Sullivan guy...he's HILARIOUS. Seriously, comedy blogs of course.
4. Favorite popcicle flavor?
- banana's pretty good, I'm more of a freezie guy than a popsicle guy
5. Favorite sexual position?
- with a girl
6. How's that for across the board?
- pretty far across it, yeah

For Bee:
Geek culture is a topic that I have extensive knowledge of. I work in I.T. and I live with a "gamer". They call themselves "gamers" because it makes them sound like an athlete when in reality, their reluctance to move from the couch prevents them from even getting athlete's foot. I'm unsure of their laughs because each is different. Urkel had a good nerd laugh I guess.

For Thinking F You:
Lifted right from one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces of, ALL generations: Anchorman. "Yes I have names for my testicles. The left one is James Westfall and the right one is Dr. Kenneth Noisewater."

I've never named my penis, nor will I ever. People who name their penises drive muscle cars and get fake tans and say "bro", "brah", and "brosef". They wear fanny packs when the situation doesn't warrant it and they walk like they're made out of stale play-doh. They also have small penises.

For Michelle Ann:
Bobby Brown running a B & B? Does that stand for Barbiturates & (wife) Beatings? The other two I've never even heard of. Well I guess I may have heard of Carnie Wilson. I can identify her as a singer and maybe the daughter of a singer who was far more talented than her. She was probably a star in 1984, which is the year I was born in. Either way, reality television is getting more desperate than the faded quasi-celebs that star in it. I was once forced to watch the Gene Simmons one. It was almost as embarrassing as his sex tape. The floozy in it won't even kiss him in spite of his repeated attempts at doing so.

For Confessions of an Insomniac:
Overhead on the set of a mosquito porno...

- "Not enough blood! You call that a money shot?"
- "C'mon you pussy, sting the shit out of her!"
- "This swarm bang is missing a certain something...oh I got it: deer flies!!!"
- "If it's irritated and itchy, that's a good thing!"

That depends on what you're looking are some ideas...

Day Stuff: art gallery of Ontario, royal Ontario museum, CN tower, blue jays game, Ontario place
Restaurants: Montana, Jump, spring roll (pretty cheap Thai)
Bar/Club: Montana Second Floor, Reilly's, Loose Moose

There's a ton more, just some ideas. has directories I believe

For CPTWilly:
I'm terribly sorry but international celebrities are insignificant to me (because I know nothing about them). Instead enjoy these funny Celebrity name facts...

-Nicolas Cage's real last name isn't Cage. He decided to change his name and chose comic book character, Luke Cage's name. This explains a lot about why he's Hollywood's most overrated actor and couldn't steal the show at a grade school Christmas pageant.

- Oprah's name was supposed to be named after some bible crap called Orpah, but the nurse who was involved in the delivery misspelled it and she became Oprah forever. And just look at her now...

- Eric Clapton went against the grain by actually extending his name from Eric Clapp. Nice moves, my friend. These days Eric Clapp would be the equivalent of being Steve Syphilis or Donny HPV.

For VE:
"How could we have been so stupid?" asked Marvin amidst a pit filled with the limp lifeless bodies of his countrymen.

"Believing all along" he murmured, "that sea urchins could not survive without water; could not talk; could not walk right over to me and strike my shin with a blow so hard that I would be a peg for the rest of my numbered days."

Talking to only himself, as the last man left standing on the face of a planet torn apart by raging fires and toppled buildings, Marv knew that no words could reverse his grim watery fortunes. Spiny spikes protruded everything leaving the scene mirroring a bad 80's horror movie more than the reality that the world had become.

"My mom, my dad, my freeloader uncle. No one was too precious for the urchins to spare, and now I stand here, the last man on this..." Before he could finish, Earth's omega man is impaled by a four foot urchin spine bearing the Sea Urchin flag at its end.

As the assassin sped by in his dust buggy, a yell, "Douchebag..." could be heard as he roared into the distance laughing like the villain that he, and all his prickly friends, had become.

For Rich:
Last summer me and three buddies drove for almost 9 hours down to Manhatten to stay for the weekend with my friend who is currently attending Columbia Law School. This picture was taken on the Saturday afternoon. We had scored tickets via ebay to see our beloved Blue Jays play the Yankees in the second last season they were playing at Yankee stadium. Upon arriving in NYC on Friday evening, I was unaware that the bars were open till 4 am and the drinks were far cheaper than any bar in Toronto. The avatar captures just how hung over I was and if you squint real hard, you can see me squinting real hard in order to hide my crimson eyes. The thing on my head is a Blue Jays hat turned backwards. My bandana days are long past me. Yes, I have a goatee and yes those are aviators on my head. The original picture contained my three friends, but they have chosen to remain anonymous to my bloggers due to the severity of their hang-overs in the picture. To give you an illustration of the night previous, picture two grown men wrestling each other in a busy Manhatten street while cabs honked impatiently. I will say that I was not one of those two wrestlers, but two of my friends cannot be afforded the same luxury.

I'll keep adding to this as people pose more questions in response to my previous post. As always, tel your friends.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

A Little Transition

Hey guys, it's been a little while since I made a new post and as great as that Uncle article was, I'm sure you're all hungry for more.

This past Monday I started a new job and things have been rather busy and new. I will be coming back sometime later this upcoming week with an all new post, although I may be too busy to think of something to write about.

Here's what I the comments, let me know what you want me to write about. I'm open to anything. Crazy, zany, wacky, terribly terribly tragic and sad...anything. Except maybe the tragic and sad idea. Just scratch that. Anyhow, let me have it. You are all very creative. Each one of your mothers called me this morning and told me so.

Come on, I know you can do it. COME ON.

See you soon.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Presenting...Your Uncles: The Official Poll Results

Alcoholic Uncle

Bio: This man is a staple in most families. He can come in many forms ranging from "not a chronic drinker but gets really hammered at family functions" to "is drunk before most people are awake" or even "doesn't like booze, but coke and heroin are real good". The end result, however, is always the same. Embarassment, shame, and humiliation...for the family. The alcholic uncle couldn't give less of a shit because he's piss drunk. This uncle single handedly kept you in the cool crowd at school by providing you with an endless supply of great anecdotes, and as you got older...booze. Lots of booze, and depending on if you caught him after 11 am, he'd be so drunk that he'd probably pay for it, too.

Quotes: "What? This is my third beer...honestly."
"What? No, I'm not drunk, I always drop deuces on the front lawn."
"Yes your honor, it will never happen again."

Survey Says?
This world has A TON of alcoholics apparently. This uncle dominated the poll from day 1 until the end. An amazing 64% of the people that voted admitted to having an alcoholic uncle. Imagine if we counted the ones whose dad was the alcoholic uncle?

Uncle Named Bob

Bio: Bob is just a regular guy. He goes to work, he comes home and maybe mows the lawn. If it's Tuesday, and he bowled a good game, he may get a little frisky with The Missus. At family functions, he's always the one who never says shit, except for one or two lame jokes that are neither sexist, racist, nor rude and therefore not funny in the least. Your grandfather probably makes fun of Uncle Bob, and on more than one occasion, Alcoholic Uncle has threatened to punch him in the eye. Bob, being the responsible man that he is, will politely excuse himself to go have a good cry in his Chevy Malibu rather than satisfy Alcoholic Uncle's unquenchable thirst for fist fights.

Quotes: "Did you hear about the cat who swallowed a ball of yarn? She had mittens!"
"I have no idea what you're implying about my loafers, grandpa."
"Look Glenn, we've been through this. Yes, I'm (air quotes) 'effing' your sister...we've been married for 13 years, go have another Tom Collins, I'll be in the car."

Survey Says?
When making the poll, I just had an inkling that a lot of people had Uncle Bobs, and I was right on the money. Coming in at #2 in the poll, there were a few days where Uncle Bob was neck and neck with Alcoholic Uncle, which is one hell of a feat. In the end, the lamest uncle on the list had a 43% share of the votes.

Makes Kids Hyper Then Leaves Uncle

Bio: Candy, video games, barbies, porno magazines: This uncle knows exactly how to charm a niece or nephew. He is most likely rich or acts like it. His self esteem is low enough that the adoration of a 6 year old is a top priority when visiting his brother/sister. Doing whatever it takes to win the affection of a kid requires a few risks, but not for this wiley uncle. He stays just long enough for the shit to be lofted into the air, but is long gone before it actually hits the fan. While little Tommy is rewiring the LCD flatscreen with a hammer, Hyper Uncle is already halfway to the Bingo hall to pick up his latest flavor of the week.

Quotes: "All the store had was sugar free I went to another one."
"Finish all your popsicles before you even think of touching that chocolate fondue."
"Hey Sis, Tommy's riding the cat around the backyard, you should check on him, but listen I gotta run..."

Survey Says?
Ranking in at a healthy 3rd place in the poll, this uncle is still very much alive; both in our hearts and in candy stores worldwide. A whopping 39% of the people that voted on the poll admitted to having an uncle that jacked them full of sugar and excitement then split faster than a celebrity couple.

Freeloader Uncle

Bio: This is the uncle that you always hear your parents talking about after they think you've gone to bed. He's a menace, but not in the obvious ways that uncles like the alcoholic uncle and the hyper uncle are. You may not know it, but the 3 gs your dad "lent" your uncle 4 years ago is still affecting your Christmas present situation to this day. Apart from the financial strain, you also can't sneak down and watch TV late at night on the couch, because this uncle is often asleep there.

Quotes: "Hey Tommy, how's your dad doing at work? Does he ever talk about things like 'bonuses' and 'promotions'?"
"I'm just in a bit of a jam right now. The used 8 track market is finally slowing down."
"We're out of cookies..."

Survey Says?
A lot of people didn't get those sick new Chuck Taylors for Christmas apparently. I didn't predict that Freeloader Uncle would be so high in the rankings, but I guess I was way off base since that cheap bastard came in at #4 by grabbing 21% of the votes.

Motorcycle Uncle

Bio: Motorcycle Uncle is so cool. At least he WAS cool. Now he's in a wheelchair. I'm not saying people in wheelchairs are uncool. I'm saying that people who are in wheelchairs because they haphazardly endangered their lives in hopes of scoring that extra bit of pussy are uncool. Back when motorcycle uncle was able to walk, he would take you on awesome rides and pick you up from school. These days, he can still give you rides and pick you up from school, but it's on Wheel-Trans, rather than a motorcycle.

Quotes: "Helmets are for pussies, Tommy, it's your 7th birthday...when the fuck are you gonna grow up and be a man for christ sake?"
"Meet Candy, she's going to be your new aunt..."
"Candy? I don't know no Candy. But Mercedes, she's going to be your new aunt..."

Survey Says?
This one really surprised me. I just did not see this coming. Motorcycle Uncle recklessly sped his way right into the last spot in the top 5 with 19% of the votes. Coincidentally, 19% is also the chance that he'll ever walk again.

Official Poll Results...
1. Alcoholic Uncle - 64%
2. Uncle Named Bob - 43%
3. Makes Kids Hyper Then Leaves Uncle - 39%
4. Freeloader Uncle - 21%
5. Owns a Motorcycle Uncle - 19%
6. Molester Uncle - 10%
7. Disappeared When You Were Young Uncle - 8%
T8. Always in Jail Uncle - 6%
T8. Not Related but Sleeps Over a Lot Uncle - 6%

Uncles I Wish I Included In The Poll, but Didn't Think of at the Time... (*Added by reader)
-possibly gay uncle
-obviously cheats on his wife uncle
-immigrant that married into the family and doesn't really fit in uncle
-uncle that turned into an aunt or vice versa uncle
-wrestles with the kids and always ends up hurting them uncle
*-Gambling Uncle (Alice)
*-Still Lives With Grandma Uncle (Megan)
*-Burn Out Who Only Comes Around Once in a While Wearing a "Yes T-Shirt (Damon)

Feel like I missed an uncle that should have been in my poll? Please let me know in the comments and I'll add it to my revision list. As always, tell your friends, colleagues, family, and molester uncles about my blog.

Oh hey, the links to the right have been updated for your time wasting pleasure.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Coming Soon to an Obituary Near You!

(Disclaimer: I'm not wishing death on these people, just stating what I observe to be facts pointing in the general direction of death.)

Amy Winehouse
This one's a no-brainer...quite literally. They don't make them much more idiotic than Amy Winehouse. She accelerated from promising young star to a washed-out druggie in no time at all. Along the way she's alienated herself from anyone with even the vaguest shred of intelligence and lost more friends than your mom's broken TiVo. Presently, anyone smart enough to recognize her break-neck descent into obscurity can be seen running from the "House" faster than a nicky 9 door champion. Her husband is in jail, which I assume is to enjoy some much needed "me-time" away from Amy. Subsequently, she's been quoted as saying she uses drugs because she feels she has nothing to live for (Associated Press, 2008). Unfortunately, a lack of common sense won't kill you, but emphysema surely will. Minutes after leaving a hospital that diagnosed her with the chronic lung disorder, Amy was photographed lighting a cigarette.

So How Long Should We Wait?
Well, emphysema is a son of a bitch of a disease. It can't be cured, but it can be controlled by halting all exposure to lung irritants such as cigarette smoke, and more importanly...THE CRACK. Given the fact that she's already been seen smoking since the diagnosis, crack probably won't be too off the post-hospital itinerary. Basically, look at the date on the milk in your fridge then knock off a day or two.

Hugh Hefner

Men worldwide will be sad to see this guy go, and as much as it hurts to say it, he's getting old, guys. Real old. Old enough to be the Great Depression's older brother. Don't get me wrong, he beat the shit out of a stroke he suffered in 1985 and came back stronger and sexier than ever. He currently has three girlfriends. Most people are stressed out enough over one, plus that much sex at his age can't help the old ticker either. He's rode more ass than a Mexican tour guide and honestly, he's probably going to some sort of exclusive V.I.P. heaven with way more satin and lotions than regular heaven, so we can't be too sad when he kicks it.

So How Long Should We Wait?
It's hard to say really. A man like Hugh probably has some sort of cure for death locked away in the depths of the mansion next to a ruby studded platinum sex swing and the panties Marilyn Monroe died in; so HE may be the one printing MY Playboy. God I hope so. Realistically, barring the infamous Playboy Mansion Grotto actually being the fountain of youth, he should be gone within 5 years.


You can just take your pick here. Driving aggressively at high speeds routinely results in death...or being OJ Simpson. When the success of a sport is predicated on the fact that its spectators are primarily there just to see an athlete (and I use that term so very loosely) get into a fiery life threatening accident, you can't really like their chances. Coupling the frequency of their cars crashing and igniting in flames with the rate at which the hair spray in a neatly tailored mullet would burn under even the slightest of sparks, yields a high risk of a NASCAR death at any moment of any race. Also, let's face it, these guys are probably drunk while they do this.

So How Long Should We Wait?
The next race is July odds are that it'll be then. Can't wait? Well enjoy this while you sit patiently...

(Click to enlarge)

Keith Richards
They say a rolling stone gathers no moss, and although that may be true, this particular Rolling Stone has gathered a laundry list of addictions and near overdoses throughout his storied career. Let's just say that if Keith could actually "roll" a stone, he'd most likely try to smoke it afterwards. I could produce a list of the things this bad-boy has been up to since becoming famous in the 60's, but you'd probably have to take a day off work to read it. Instead, I'll just mention that he snorted his deceased father's ashes and went on a 10 arrest hot streak between 1967 and 1977*. If you really want to know more about him, just google his name and enjoy the next 6 months of reading.

So How Long Should We Wait?
This is a toughie. People have been waiting since the late 60's for news to break about a Keith Richards overdose whether it be on heroin, cocaine, or…the cremated ashes of a loved one. Overall, he's endured the test of time, and some could make a case for him actually being immortal. I, on the other hand, believe it's only a matter of time. Too much drugs, too much sex, and too much rock & roll have left his face looking like a bordello’s leather couch. On top of that, the long term effects of doing so many drugs all the while being a full-time alcoholic have to catch up to him sometime. Like the big Hef-dog, I give him a five year maximum.

*Towards the end of the second paragraph

The links have been updated for your time wasting pleasure and throughout the day I'll be building my...da da roll. This could take a while, but if a few days pass and you don't see your blog on there, feel free to let me know about it.

Again, I hope all of these people live long and prosperous lives from here on out, but I doubt it. I'm just saying is all. Anyhow tell your friends...

Oh and I almost forgot...

Happy Motherfucking Canada Day. We're The Best Country There Ever Was and if You Don't Believe It...Come Visit. You'll Never Leave!!!

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

"Fan" Mail

Attn: Subway Restaurants
Re: Being the absolute worst ever

From Jared to the term “Sandwich Artist” to their Nazi-like stranglehold on the store bathrooms; Subway has been terrorizing our wallets, and more importantly our spirits, for far too long. In order to have a “fresh made sandwich”, we have to endure sky high prices, stingy vegetables portions, the lack of emphasis in employee training on taking off the clear plastics gloves when you handle filthy currency, and about a million other annoyances. How is this franchise still afloat? That’s an honest question and I really hope someone waltzes into the comments section with big enough balls to give me a straight-faced answer to it.

Let’s start with the food itself. When talking about eating, a lot of people will resort to the phrase “quality over quantity” and many times, they are correct. However, the only thing that qualifies a cucumber as being of high quality is it not being brown and rotten and I think we can all expect that Subway will at least hold up to the these standards. Bring on the quantity. If I want extra green olives, just smile and give them to me. Don’t look at me like I’m holding your daughter hostage and demanding your wallet and the keys to your Camry. I shouldn’t have to feel like a guerilla mercenary gun-for-hire because I want 7 slices of tomato rather than the customary 5. If I want you to stuff a sack with carrot shavings, start stuffing, because I just paid your hourly wage for a 12 inch turkey on white. This is just the tip of the iceberg lettuce. I also demand fresh bread as alleged in the smoke and mirror lie shows that you call commercials. Yeah it’s true that your bread is baked fresh daily…at 6 am. If I wanted a sandwich before sunrise, then I would surely enjoy the deliciously tender fresh bread you have. Unfortunately, by the time my lunch hour rolls around at 1pm, the buns are ready to be cut into discs and handed out at church on Sunday. I came for a sub on “freshly baked bread”…not communion.

Bathrooms are something every restaurant should provide with a smile, not a cold stare and a series of elaborate riddles. Even if I’m not actually going to buy something, why not let me use the bathroom anyways? I promise I will not steal the metal flushing lever, no matter how hot they are right now on the underground Russian toilet accessories market. I don’t really look like a candidate to die with a needle in my arm clutching the paper towel dispenser in a Subway bathroom…at least not today anyways. Basically, if I run in to the sound of sirens with a syringe and bent spoon falling out of my track pants, I’d understand if you politely declined my entry to the bathroom; otherwise, just fuck off and let me pee, and if you’re real lucky I won’t drip any on the seat because I’m a real nice guy. Also, locking it tighter than Hannibal Lector’s prison cell is probably something you may want to scale back on. Spending my sub money on an intricate electronic pulley system and a full on castle moat isn’t exactly a brilliant allocation of resources. Are random non-customer bathroom uses really that much of a priority? How about decently training your “Sandwich Artists” instead?

A subway sandwich MAKER is about as much of an artist as a janitor is a diarrhea connoisseur. They pile meat, cheese, and the skimpiest amounts of vegetables onto crusty, flakey bread. Then they cut it. Then they wrap it in rice paper and slide it into a bag. Well la-di-fucking-Picasso. I can see it now…the affluent hanging 6 inch BLTs on their walls explaining to their rich guests, “This is an original Gary. It was his second day on the job and he banged this one out in about 10 minutes. My eyes welled up, my heart fluttered and I said, ‘I must have it’ and I then I did. Now, come come…you must see my California Wrap” Look I understand giving your employees a false sense of pride, and given the wages you pay them, there’s a strong chance that there’s no mirror access in the hostel they’re forced to live in, but come on...they know what they are and we know what they are. We aren’t as stupid as you’d think. We’re just barely stupid enough to pay $9 for a sandwich we could make at home for about $1, but we’re definitely not stupid enough to ever consider someone working at your franchise to be an “artist”.

Clean up your act, Subway!



New links for you to waste your time with on the top right of the page!!! YAYYESSS! (I'll be updating them regularly, for real this time).

Subway employees are not encouraged to read my blog. Your friends and family are.