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 sound...it'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 DA...here 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 desires...plus 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.