Yeah, totally...right?

Back...briefly.

2011-09-21T08:44:00.000-07:00

Hi guys,

Work is just far too busy for this blog to be viable at this point. I don't really want to scatter posts around every few months, so I've pretty much decided to shelve it for the time being. You can follow me on twitter though if you'd like @ThatSullyGuy.

However, I just thought I'd point out that there's a poll to the right of this page wherein I asked you guys to predict which celebrity would be dead first. Well, you guys suck. Michael Jackson got 0%, yet he was the first one to kick it.

I'm starting to feel like I shouldn't have conducted that poll, though. Two of the six or seven people on that list are already dead and the poll is maybe a year and a half old. Could this blog be murdering people? Maybe. Maybe not. But probably maybe. Actually, no...certainly maybe.

-Sully

I can't watch curling anymore because I get too horny...

2010-02-19T08:08:00.000-08:00

So the Olympics are here and I'll have to admit I haven't been the most dedicated Olympics-watcher over the past 10 years or so, but since they're being held in my hood, I feel compelled to take a look. (According to most Americans, the distance between Vancouver and Toronto is that of a brisk jog.)

Back when I used to actually watch the Olympics, women's curling looked like a gathering of the Abrasive Lesbians Council. There were so many jagged haircuts that when they lined up for team photos it looked a background scene in a Super Mario Brothers level.

Well, things have changed and I'm pissed. As I watched curling yesterday with my buddies, we were all surprised to find that, somehow, in the past ten years, curlers went out and got themselves hot. Super hot. Why would I be pissed about this? Because I actually like watching curling and now it's tough because I keep getting really turned on. All these tiny, beautiful women screaming at eachother and sweeping is extremely arousing. Now I understand why some religions allow men to have multiple wives.

For your pleasure, here are the top 10 hottest curlers participating in the 2010 Winter Olympics. I apologize for some of the pictures being small but it was slim pickings on finding good photos of a lot of these beauties. I will also note that I was originally going to do a top 5, but it was so hard to narrow it down.

Top 10 Hottest Female Olympic Curlers

10. Nicole Joraanstad (Team USA) 9. Eva Lund (Team Sweden) 8. Cheryl Bernard (Team Canada)

7. Anna Sidorova (Team Russia)

6. Angelina Jensen (Team USA)

5. Eve Muirhead (Team Great Britain)

4. Ludmila Privivkova (Team Russia)

3. Mari Motohashi (Team Japan)

2. Stella Heiss (Team Germany)
1. Melanie Robillard (Team Germany)
Bonus: Hottest Overall Team

So I bet you're wondering which team I thought was the hottest overall.

Well, if you've been paying attention, you know that my #1 and #2 hottest curlers overall were both from Germany so if you're smart, you'd know that it's Germany. Well stop being so smart because it's not working out for you. It's not Germany.

When researching, I first came across Heiss and Robillard and I figured, "wow...the German team is unreal types of hot." Then I realized their skipper was Mickey Rourke. You can't win a hotness contest when your FEMALE skip is a dead ringer for Mickey Rourke.

It's a shame Mickey Rourke had to ruin it for the German team, but in all honesty, Japan wins this hands down. Germany has the two hottest curlers at the Olympics, but every single girl on the Japanese team is attractive. So congrats, Japan! Way to really go out there and give 110%...at being hot.

Sorry to everyone for taking such a long hiatus. As far as excuses go, I got nothing.

I'm still alive.

2009-09-05T16:10:00.000-07:00

I haven't died...YET. I plan on never dying, to be totally honest.

Anyways, I will be posting a very good (half assed) comeback piece, just not yet. I want to tease you a little and see what happens.

While you're waiting, I'd like you to consider this...

What is wrong with Jennifer Aniston? She's super hot and she seems funny so what gives? Why did Brad Pitt leave her? Why did Vince Vaughan leave her? John Mayer? What is her disgusting secret defect? Can we come up with anything? Because I want to know in case she ever calls me up wanting to sleep with me.

The NBA VS The NHL

2009-05-04T10:52:00.001-07:00

I figure that with the shape the United States is in right now, it's only a matter of time before we lose one of the four major North American sports leagues. I'm not saying this will happen tomorrow, or even at all, but it's a risk. Now we all know that the NFL and MLB aren't going anywhere, so really it will probably be either the NBA or the NHL if it happens.

I hate the fucking NBA. Let me just get that out there from the get-go so there is no question of my bias against pro basketball. The first three quarters in an NBA basketball game do not matter in the least. It's like that bullshit show Family Feud where no matter how much ass a family is kicking, they still risk losing it all in the "Triple Round". An NBA 4th quarter is a cheap knock-off of Family Feud's "Triple Round."

Then there's the ridiculous pre-game ritual of everyone giving each other a ghetto hug. What. The. Fuck? Sports are about competition and wanting to win so bad that you would rip your opponent's brain out of their skull if you had the technology. Apparently this isn't the case in the NBA. Apparently in the NBA, everyone is good friends and they all play tag in the arena before the game.

I just realized that if I keep writing this rant I'm pretty much going to ruin the whole point of this post: An NBA/NHL comparison. If one of these leagues has to go, I believe the American people should consult this comparison before doing anything drastic. The point system is based on whatever the fuck I want and is as follows: The NBA is going to lose. If you are an NBA fan, go into this with no hope whatsoever...

1. Mullets VS Cornrows

The Mullet:

The Corn Row:

Result:

Both of these are retarded hair styles. One makes your head look like a 70's porn actor's bush and the other makes your head look like a heroin addict's forearm. I'm going to have to give this one to the mullet because you can roll out of bed, run your hands through it a couple of times, and you're good to go. With cornrows you need 4 hours of spare time and a loud, black aunt.

NHL +1

2. Extensive Padding VS. Sleeves on Only One Arm

NHL Shoulder Pads:

NBA Arm Sleeves:

Result: Can you even believe we have to do this? "This" being: Compare a sport like hockey to a "sport" like basketball? Hockey players go out on the ice decked head to toe in armor that would rival the baddest medieval knight, meanwhile basketball players shield themselves with...a sleeve...on one arm only. Jesus. Christ.

NHL +1

3. Missing Backcheck Support VS Missing Child Support Checks

Result: The cardinal sin for a forward in hockey is not hustling back to their zone on the backcheck. In basketball, the cardinal sin is paying out even a dime of support to your vast amounts of bastard children.

NHL +1

4. Bob Probert VS Latrell Sprewell

This is Bob Probert:

This is Latrell Sprewell:

Result: Bob Probert was arrested for cocaine possession and crashed his motorcycle while driving it drunk, both while still an active player in the NHL. In recent years he was also arrested for breach of peace, resisting arrest, and assaulting a police officer. On the ice he was just as dangerous. He fought NHL enforcer, Stu Grimson, 13 times. He once had a fight with Marty McSorley that lasted over 100 seconds. If you're saying, "that doesn't sound like a long time," I encourage you to go stand on a sheet of ice and throw haymakers at a speed bag for 100 seconds.

Latrell Sprewell was a notorious choker and that's saying nothing about his ability to perform in the clutch. It all began when he treated his coach, P.J. Carlesimo, like a $3 hooker choking him and shaking his body around violently. A couple years ago he was also charged with choking a 21-year-old female on his luxury yacht. Additionally, he was sued for $200 million in child support for four children. See? NBA Players don' take care of their little bastards, I told you man. Sprewell is now broke and contemplating a return to the NBA.

Both of these guys are bat shit fucking bananas. It's a tie.

Tie

5. Players That Look Like Old Lesbians VS Players That Look Like New Lesbians

Here's some NHL players that look like old lesbians...

Now here are some NBA players that look like new lesbians:

Result: In the game of lesbian doppelgangers, no one wins.

Tie

6. Puck Bunnies VS The WNBA

Here are some puck bunnies aka NHL groupies:

Here are some WNBA "women":

Result: First of all, I'm pretty sure that last one is Tracy Morgan in drag. Anyways, the puck bunnies win this one easily. The NBA has Eva Longoria. Big deal. The NHL has Hilary Duff, Elisha Cuthbert, and Rachel Hunter.

NHL +1

7. Sean Avery VS. Dennis Rodman

This is Sean Avery

This is Dennis Rodman (click for enlarged version):

Result: Sean Avery is The Pest. Dennis Rodman was The Worm. Tremendously flattering nicknames, I know. Avery is famous for getting in the faces of goaltenders, pissing off opponents, and ridiculing his peers publicly.

Dennis Rodman is famous for grabbing rebounds and being a general weirdo freak. He got married in a woman's wedding dress. He also has a ton of tattoos and piercings, and once wrestled in the WCW. Yes, that is Karl Malone in the ring with him in that picture.

Both of these men are utterly repulsive. Tie Again.

Tie

8. Penalties VS. Fouls

Here's what an NHL penalty looks like:

Now let's take a look at an NBA foul:

Result: One of these things looks like a massive wreck of carnage and blood and guts; the other one looks like what a 7th grader does to a 5th grader before he takes his lunch.

Look at the pain in Kobe's eyes while that other guy slaps his elbow. What a pussy. Now look at Martin Erat getting his face grated between a 200-pound man on skates and his own shoulder blade.

When NBA players get fouled, they have tears in their eyes. When NHL players are the victims of a penalty, they have blood in their eyes.

NHL +1

9. NHL Fights VS NBA "Fights"

Observe an NHL fight:

Okay now here's a link to an NBA fight because they are so rare I couldn't even find one to embed in this post:

See the NBA "Fight" HERE

Result: Yeah that NBA one is about as rough as it gets (Palace of Auburn Hills fiasco notwithstanding). That Pacers/Pistons brawl is an outlier, and it doesn't count since fans had to get in there and take matters into their own hands to see some fists fly. NBA fights are what I'd imagine two gymnastics teams mixing it up would be like. When your "sister" league is more violent than your own, you deserve negative points.

The NHL, on the other hand, is a ruthless bloodsport with no holds barred. It's badass enough to be sponsored by Jean Claude Van Damme. In the video above, Nick Kypreos has his career ended during the course of one single fight. I could go through the spectrum of violence in the NHL, but there's way too many things to link to. Just go explore on youtube.

NHL +1

Results

NHL 6-0.

If it has to be one or the other, please make it the NHL. It is SOOOOOO much better.

If you need to waste more time today, I have updated the time wasting links on the right. Be warned though, right after I updated them, I called each one of your bosses and told them to keep an eye on you today.

Hey, it's news to someone...

2009-04-17T07:29:00.001-07:00

Here's what's going on today...

Toronto Blue Jays are unstoppable

The most beloved perennial disappointment in my life for the past 15 years has been the Toronto Blue Jays baseball club. This year they've gotten off to a tremendous 8-3 start to the season. That record is good enough for second in all of the major leagues. So until the wheels come off their weak rotation and the bats inevitably fall flat, it's Let's Go Blue Jays. At least I'm not some retard Yankees fan. Observe...

Tori Spelling's tits are really deteriorating

Some would say that I've been harsh on this talentless, coat tail riding, ugly-as-sin, racehorse impersonator, but I say fuck that; let's take a look at her weird tits...

Ewwwwww! Look at that gap between those breasts. Where did she get her plastic surgery? At David Letterman's dentist? Aside from that gap, let's talk about why they look like two pool balls. If that's how boobs are supposed to be shaped, I have slept with some weird looking girls over the years.

John Madden retires from broadcasting to spend more time eating food

After an accomplished career in football play-by-play, John Madden has decided to now focus on consuming food on a full time basis.

"For me, the move was easy. Six out of seven nights you have a ham in the fridge and BOOM! there's also apple sauce," says a famished Madden while waiting in line at Dairy Queen, "then you got the pastas. Fettuccine, spaghetti, rigatoni some times I like to put some chicken wings on there and POW! two meatballs converge on my plate and try to sack my appetite but I've prepared for this, I had a big breakfast, the meatballs don't stand a chance and you have to know that Sara Lee cherry cheesecake is waiting on the sidelines just itching to get in but then..."

At that point, John was asked to stop speaking which was a relief to everyone including John Madden.

Observational Thinking: Americans

2009-04-14T08:40:00.001-07:00

At the end of March, I was in Vegas for five nights and it was quite a wild time. All fun aside though guys; Americans have problems. They have problems that go way beyond a bad economy and a retarded war. Don’t get me wrong, those two things are very big problems, but I’m inclined to think it’s the little fundamental problems within American society itself that will be the eventual downfall of the country. The following is a compilation of some notes I took on Americans while I was there observing them in their natural habitat.

Observation #1: Americans cannot, for the life of them, handle escalators.

Problem: In the five days I was in Las Vegas, I witnessed two escalator-related accidents. It seems that if the terrorists were so inclined to disturb America, they would replace every staircase with an escalator and then it would just be a waiting game. I mean how can you watch a man, unconscious, slowly glide up an escalator laid out flat on his back and not see a weakness in the U.S.’ defenses.

Solution: Is situating a full buffet atop each American escalator enough incentive to get them to the top? As fate may have it, Solution #1 brings us to Observation #2…

Observation #2: Americans are fat disgusting pigs and they don’t care who knows it.

Problem: Well this one is obvious, but beating dead horses is a game I often play with myself. A friend and I went to 7-11 where we saw a donut rack, next to a hot dog bar, next to an eight-flavored Slushee machine, next to the soda fountain, next to an obese kid in a fat-roll-exposing sleeveless t-shirt whom no doubt just ran the gauntlet of gluttony provided right there in the store. I imagine that seconds before we entered, he was adding bits of krispy kreme donut to his cream soda slurpee and using a bacon cheeseburger hotdog to stir them in. Yes, America has Bacon Cheeseburger Hot Dogs.

Solution: Eat some fucking fruits and vegetables once in a while, America. Again as fate my have it, this solution ties right into the next observation. Eerie, right?

Observation #3: Americans are under the impression that lime flavoring is the cure for cancer.

Problem: Beginning with Bud Light Lime and ending with squeezed lime being forced into my burrito, it became increasingly clear that lime has become the hottest celebrity in America. Why though? That’s the goddamn question, America. I’ll admit that the beer was quite tasty and refreshing, but having it in my food, hair products, and drinking water is a bit much. I bet that if I had ordered a hooker to my room, her vagina would have come garnished with fresh lime wedges. (Let’s all be thankful I decided to go in another direction with my lime pictures.) Anyhow, for reasons beyond the realm of my imagination, lime is larger than life right now in the States.

Solution: Give lemons a shot, guys. With all the negative publicity concerning life giving people lemons and cars being lemons, I think it’s time that lemon gets a shot. Lemon is a hard working fruit, goddamn it, and if you’ve ever had a lemon meringue pie, you’d know it.

And now we'll end with a look into what real American Hero, Lime, has been doing lately...

New "Ask a Canadian" Posted!

2009-04-09T07:26:00.000-07:00

You can see my latest edition of "Ask a Canadian" by clicking anywhere on this sentence.

Also, how do you like the new banner?

Some News

2009-03-25T08:14:00.000-07:00

Hey, yes I know it's been a while. Sorry.

Anyhow I have partnered up with Diary of Fools to put together a recurring segment on their site called "Ask a Canadian with Sully Sullivan." The first edition is up, and I can say, without an ounce of shame, that it is the funniest piece of comedy ever constructed.

The first article can be seen HERE.

Thanks for your patience with me guys. I promise I'll hit you with some heat as soon as I get back from Vegas.

Your Ridiculous News - February 2009 Edition

2009-02-12T08:54:00.000-08:00

Yes I know it has been a while. The end of the fiscal year here at work has kept me extremely busy. I thought I would take some time today to bring you some (outdated) news from this month so far...

Beers, Buds, Superbowl...Porn?

“Officials at Comcast said about 30 seconds from Club Jenna, an adult cable
television channel, were shown on the local Super Bowl telecast. The company was
still working Sunday night to figure out how it happened… The porn cut into the
game with less than three minutes left to play, just after Arizona Cardinals
player Larry Fitzgerald scored on a touchdown pass from Kurt Warner to put the
team in the lead.

Callers said that the clip showed a woman unzipping a man’s pants, followed by a graphic act between the two. 'I just figured it was another commercial until I looked up,' said Cora King of Marana. 'Then he did his little dance with everything hanging out.'"

So it seems that people sitting down for the last few minutes of the Superbowl dreaming that there was more of that tasty halftime chili, instead got an extra helping of foot-long hotdog. Now this is relatively old news now, but I just had to comment on it. In this day and age of home land security, how does someone manage to interrupt the feed of the most watched annual event on television and edit in hardcore pornography? This would have never happened under the Bush administration.

Luckily this was only in the Arizona area but it really brings a question to mind: Is it possible that Jesus was sending a clear cut message to Arizona Cardinals Quarterback and annoying born again Christian, Kurt Warner? I’m not a religious person, but I would have to say, “Yes! Yes jesus is insulted by Kurt Warner’s incessant ramblings about Jesus and faith and faith in Jesus.” I know I’m terribly angered by it and I’m not even Jesus at all.

After losing Superbowl 43, Kurt Warner was informed of what had occurred immediately after he threw a touchdown pass to Larry Fitzgerald (Timing coincidence? Doubtful) and had this to say, “Being a devote Christian, I believe everything happens for a reason and if Baby Jesus wanted people to see fat swinging man-dick after my glorious Hail Mary-esque pass to Lare-Bear, then who am I to stand in the way of God’s work? The male form is beautiful…and right…and just…and Jesus created it. Hallelujah, praise the lord, porn penis on high for all!”

Jesus could not be reached for comment although it is widely accepted that the rain occurring later that night was a result of holy tears of laughter, and not sadness.

If you are at home or don't care about losing your job, here is the footage of what happened. It is not safe for work.

Not-So Christian Bale

Apparently actor Christian Bale of Batman fame takes his job very seriously. Listen to him berate a Director of Photography on the set of his upcoming film, "Terminator: I Cannot Believe They Are Still Making This Bullshit"...

(If the above audio didn't work, it can also be heard here)

Bravo, Christian Bale. That is the most emotion you have exhibited on-set in the history of your career.

There is nothing better than a horrible actor behaving like a diva on the set of a shitty movie. The man uses the term “professional” about ten times on the set of Terminator 4, for christ sakes. Let’s let that sink in for a second. Terminator. “Professional.” Part 4. Man, this is just like the time Eugene Levy slapped his dick off a set designer’s forehead for interrupting a key scene in “American Pie: Band Camp”; or that time when Anthony Michael Hall karate kicked a production assistant during the filming of “Weird Science”. Wait. No no, those things didn’t happen because those actors realized that 1) they were/are sub par at their very best, and 2) the movies they were working on were complete jokes.

At some point in his career, Christian Bale is going to realize that he is what Keanu Reeve’s retarded nephew would be if Keane Reeve’s retarded nephew existed and also couldn’t act. Once that reality sets in, maybe he’ll settle down a little, but until his ego bubble bursts, I warn all DPs, PAs, SDs, etc. to stay the fuck out of Christian Bale’s line of vision because he is under the impression that he is relevant. As I say, that moment will soon pass, and probably should have passed the day “Harsh Times” debuted in very very limited theatres, but until it actually does, lay low my friends, lay low.

As a bonus, here’s the brilliance that is Christian Bale in the incomparable “Harsh Times,” uttering what could possibly be the deepest, and most influential line in the history of planet earth… (if the below video doesn't work, it can also be seen here)

“That’s a lot of lettuce!”

Case rested my friends. That director of photography is probably a better actor than Bale.

Chris Brown: R&B Singer, Teen Hearthrob, Heavyweight Girlfriend Boxing Champion

So, tough guy R&B singer, Chris Brown went all Bobby Brown on his girlfriend, pop-star Rihanna, before the Grammy’s this past Sunday. Her alleged injuries are “a split lip, a bloody nose and bite marks on her hands.” Excuse me? Bite marks? Now there is no denying that Chris Brown looks and sounds like the sick love child of Alvin and Theodore from the chipmunks, but actually gnawing on his girlfriend like she was a plump acorn comes as somewhat of a surprise to me.

What is it with these R&B and Hip Hop stars going all nutty as soon as they get a little fame? We’ve got DMX running around high on crack torturing dogs and posing as a police officer; R. Kelly is using kids as a toilet; Eminem wrote a song detailing how he would hypothetically OJ Simpson his wife right in front of his daughter; the list goes on and on. Now, we have 19 year old Chris Brown getting into bite fights with Rihanna.

The motives are unclear at this point but people have been speculating on everything from a Rihanna jealousy fit to him contracting herpes from her. Regardless of what provoked this nasty turn of events, one thing is clear: The Grammy’s still sucked. Would the Grammy’s have sucked less or more with the Rihanna/Brown performance? I guess we’ll never know because Chris Brown ruined that for us…with his fists, and, if the lyrics to the hit single, “Forever” are at all accurate, probably his feet too.

Currently the singer is out on $50000 bail, but here’s to hoping he sees some jail time where he will be aggressively raped by everyone.

It has come to this and I blame America

2008-12-29T11:31:00.000-08:00

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 collegehumor.com 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 collegehumor.com 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 collegehumor.com 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 collegehumor.com. 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.)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lee:
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.

Sully:
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.

Lee:
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.

Sully:
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.)

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

Sully:
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.

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

Sully:
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.

Lee:
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...)

Sully:
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 collegehumor.com 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.

Lee:
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.

Sully:
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.

Lee:
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]

Sully:
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.

Lee:
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?

Lee:
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.)

Sully:
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.

Lee:
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.

Sully
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?

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

Sully:
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 like...is 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!

Plugging For A Friend

2008-12-08T12:02:00.000-08:00

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

Enjoy.

Thoughts From My Office

2008-11-20T11:57:00.000-08:00

- 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.

Starbucks, America, Money, Love, Respect, Starbucks

2008-11-12T08:12:00.000-08:00

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.

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

2008-11-06T13:03:00.001-08:00

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.

Cause

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.

Solution

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"

Effect

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.

Look I'm Not Even Sorry.

2008-10-29T10:08:00.001-07:00

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 WEARING SOUND RETARDANT EARMUFFS BEHIND THE WHEEL OF A JET AIRPLANE TALKING OVER THE ENGINE NOISE. Didn't that message seem dire?

IMAGINE ME SAYING THIS WHILE I OPERATE A JACKHAMMER IN THE MIDDLE OF MANHATTEN RUSH HOUR AND A BUS IS GOING BY. That one seemed more like I was rushing to say it. CAPS lock is so versatile.

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.

IMAGINE ME SAYING THIS TO YOU WHILE YOU LISTEN TO KANYE WEST ON YOUR IPOD FULL BLAST WITH BOTH EAR BUDS IN YOUR EARS ON A BUSY SAN FRANSISCO STREET CAR WHILE TWO HOMOSEXUAL MEN COMMENT ON THEIR EXPLOITS THE NIGHT BEFORE AND THEY HAPPEN TO BE SITTING DIRECTLY IN BETWEEN US.

CAPS lock.

Brilliant.

ALSO KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR A GUEST POST FROM A WRITER MUCH BETTER THAN ME. HE'S SO GOOD HE ALMOST GETS PAID FOR IT! OKAY NOW IMAGINE ME SAYING THIS WHILE I'M FALLING 3000 FEET IN AN EERILY EMPTY CANYON AND SOMEHOW THE ECHOES OF MY SCREAMS ARE LOUDER THAN MY SPEECH AND ALSO A HELICOPTER IS EXPLODING NEARBY

Your Ridiculous News - September 9th/10th Edition

2008-09-10T07:35:00.000-07:00

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 Youtube.com)

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 OUT...an 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?

The New Fall Season - YAYYYYY!

2008-09-03T14:00:00.000-07:00

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!

House

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.

How it could be better: MORE MANHEIM. MORE MANHEIM. MOOOORE MAAAAAANHEIM.

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

The Suburban Neighborhood Super Heroes

2008-08-19T10:16:00.000-07:00

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!

AND

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)

Your Ridiculous News

2008-08-13T06:36:00.000-07:00

CHINA TO LITTLE GIRL: "FUCK YOU"

"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.

------------------------------------------------------

SUSPECTED ABDUCTION ACTUALLY TEENAGED SEX GAME

"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 QUITS 90210, NOBODY GIVES A CARE

"[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.

---------------------------------------------------------

AND FINALLY FROM THE "NO FUCKING SHIT..." FILES

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!

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

2008-08-08T06:14:00.000-07:00

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.

The Mike Tyson Mansion: A Look Back

2008-07-29T08:52:00.000-07:00

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 illicitohio.com)...

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.

Toodles Google AdSense

2008-07-22T07:26:00.000-07:00

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 apologies...to 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.

Nike.

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

Helpful Suggestions Humoured

2008-07-18T09:36:00.000-07:00

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 our...no, 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!"

Meg:
That depends on what you're looking for...here 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. Toronto.ca 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.

A Little Transition

2008-07-16T07:05:00.000-07:00

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 propose...in 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.

Presenting...Your Uncles: The Official Poll Results

2008-07-07T09:59:00.000-07:00

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 gum...so 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 hey..meet 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.

Coming Soon to an Obituary Near You!

2008-06-30T10:55:00.000-07:00

(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 obituary...in 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.

A NASCAR Driver

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 5th...so 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 da-da...blog 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!!!

"Fan" Mail

2008-06-25T13:37:00.000-07:00

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!

Signed,

Everyone

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.

Phrase Deaths Issue #1

2008-06-12T06:23:00.000-07:00

Early this morning, "...And by [that], I mean [this]" died a violent death at the hands of teenagers, the lame, and comedians worldwide. Living a brief but full life, this phrase sure packed everything it could into its run. The comedic device exceeded its life expectancy vastly by being so versatile that literally even the dullest of people could use it...and boy did they EVER. Survived by close relatives "Did I say [this]? Because I meant [this]" and "AKA", its paint-by-numbers legacy will live on (for what will seem like) forever.

Not wasting enough time here? No worries, I got you.

2008-06-11T11:14:00.001-07:00

That's right, kids. See, I like wasting time more than anything else and I know that you all feel the same way. There are many sites out there such as GorillaMask, EbaumsWorld, CollegeHumor and so on that post many videos every day, but it's hard to tell which ones are worthwhile. Wasting time is one thing, but wasting time while wasting time is unacceptable. This is where I step in and punch you in the face with my foot with a nice tidy list of the worthwhile things to see and do from around the net. I will be updating this any time I come across anything I think you guys would like to waste your time on. Older links will be bumped off the list as newer ones are found so click fast while supplies last!

The links can be conveniently found on the right sidebar right at the top. Hey and don't worry... the uncles poll is still around, it's just been moved down a bit. Yes, I am dying to know about your childhood uncles. Also, I'm going to use this time to come clean...you all clicked off your childhood uncles under the assumption that it was totally private and anonymous. Well I've been recording who's IP clicked which option(s) and guess what? I know who was molested!!! The results will SHOCK you. Pictures to follow. You think I'm kidding? I am. Keep voting.

Your Softball Team's All-Stars

2008-06-10T09:00:00.000-07:00

Guy That Takes it Too Seriously

Height: 6'4

Weight: A lean mean 215

Age: 45

Likes: Humiliating his kids at swimming lessons, red-lighting 3-0 counts, legging out singles, anabolic steroids.

Dislikes: Losing softball games and his hair and his wife and...listen this guy just
doesn't like to lose.

Day Job: Grade School Gym Teacher

"Listen up you skirt twirling fairy dancers. My name's Darren and I'm here to BRING THE PAIN. We will not lose. If we lose one game, I will personally kill all of your children with my fists. I'm only playing in this league because Sundays are my relax day. Monday through Saturday, I play in real ultra competitive leagues. You know...the type of leagues where you get boot fucked in the parking lot post game for not turning a double play. As you can see, I bulked up a little this off season and dropped two jock sizes in the process. It's a lot easier to leg out a double when your scrotum is half the size of a regular adult male's. I use the extra jock space to stash my chew. No you may not have any. Maybe if you got on base once in a while you kool-aid guzzling faglets. Hey, you could all actually maybe be halfway not losers if you just came to the batting cages with me for like 8...maybe 9 hours. Cool, I'll pick you all up at 6 am next Tuesday. I think we have a pretty solid team this year. You men don't seem to be too gay and I'm pretty sure that at least three of you six women are lesbians. That's a great non-gay male to gay female ratio...maybe the best in the league. Honestly, if we don't win it all this year, I'm going to rape someone. I mean that."

Woman Who Only Plays To Keep an Eye on Her Husband

Height: 5'2

Weight: 115

Likes: Husband, Love, Affection, Kisses...lots of kisses

Dislikes: Bitches, whores, sluts, floosies, overtime work, undertime work, business trips, dead cell phones, secretaries (see whores).

Day Job: Homemaker

"Hi, I'm Sharon. I have a wonderful husband named Peter. He's right over there...HI SWEETIE PETEY. Alright he's not paying attention to me right now. I LOVE SOFTBALL. With the bats and the running and the teamwork. This is really exciting. It's fun to get outdoors with my wonderful husband. Why does a softball team need so many women though? I think I could handle it if all you girls just want to go home or to the bar to pick up married men or whatever you do. Hey Marla, try some of the cookies I brought for everyone. Take two actually...if your hands are full, maybe they won't be all over my husband for two minutes. No Peter, I will not take it easy. I don't care if we *air quotes* talked about this."

Never Played Before in His Life Guy

Height: 5'6 tops

Weight: 125 with his shoes on

Age: 31

Likes: Reading, the internet, reading the internet, computer languages, Star Trek languages, Middle Earth languages, comic books

Dislikes: Jocks, athletes, super wedgies, purple nurples, bad words, ear infections

Day Job: Sells science fiction crap on Ebay

"Hey guys! I'm Clinton! I've been playing rockball for years. Huh? Yeah softball, that's what I said. My mom said if I didn't get out of the house more, I'd lose internet privileges. See if I give a care. She's always with that jerk Gary these days anyhow. Let's play guys, I'm ready to go. I have my baseball stick and my hand...catching...thinger. This is going to be the best summer since I finger banged Sheila at art camp 3 years ago."

Big Fat Drunken Sweaty Guy

Height: 5'11

Weight: An unhealthy 275

Age: 40

Likes: Coors Light and ONLY Coors Light, Hawaiian shirts, visors, Perspirex, America, talking loudly

Dislikes: Running, diving, trying, That Nazi imported shit beer, sharts, hot weather, cold weather, weather, party poopers

Day Job: Mail Sorter

"Hey...pssst...shhh dude you're gonna get us caught. C'mere. Yeah come over for a sec. Check out what I got in the back of my truck man. Yeah that's a 2-4 of Coors Light. There's three left, you want one? C'mon don't be a pussy. You're being a pussy...have one...there you go. I'm Chuck by the way. Oh man, thank god I'm not the boogie man because I just can't stay away from these silver bullets...OHHHHHHHH...I just thought of that just now. No, dude...I'm pretty sure it's the boogie man. Werewolves? Get out of here! You're drunk man. You're SO FUCKING DRUNK...I'm MOTHERFUCKING LOVING IT...WHOOOOOOOOOO."

The Man-Woman

Height: 5'9...5'11 with afro mullet

Weight: A lean mean 215

Age: 34

Likes: Tori Amos, steak, A1 steak sauce, arm wrestling, Die Hard parts 1 and 3, karate

Dislikes: Pretty women, pretty kids, pretty much everyone, penis

Day Job: Garbage Man...er...Garbage Woman? That doesn't sound right.

"What's up pussies? The name's Gert. Actually it's Gert the Hurt. In fact, I must be called Gert the Hurt or I will fuck you up. That's not a warning...that's a threat. I'm the clean up hitter. Does anyone have a problem with that? Didn't think so. Yes I smell like garbage, there's no denying it, but YOU WILL act like I don't or I'm going to put my orthopedic knee brace through your eye socket. I will be playing first base....and third base...and catcher...and outfield. You know what? We'd be better off just letting me play the entire game alone because I don't see one non-bitch in front of me. My friend Paula comes to watch every game and if I catch even one of you sackless dick lickers glancing at her, it's on. You know what 'it's on' means? No? Then it's on."

Tell Gert the Hurt and the whole gang down at your local softball diamond to read my blog.

Speed 3: Bombed on Bus

2008-06-04T09:02:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Taranna...

TORONTO, June 4 (UPI) -- A Toronto Transit Commission bus driver was fired after police found his blood alcohol level was allegedly three times over the limit while he was working. A frightened passenger called 911 Tuesday morning saying it appeared the driver was drunk, the Toronto Sun reported Wednesday. Transit control radioed the driver to pull over, but after all of his passengers fled at one stop, he continued until police were able to pull him over, the Toronto Star said. A roadside breathalyzer indicated a blood alcohol level more than three times the 0.08 limit, and a second, more comprehensive test at the police station showed the same, police said. Brad Ross, director of TTC corporate communications, told the National Post the driver was fired immediately.

This is how we do it in Toronto. We wake up in the morning and have a hearty bowl of oatmeal, kiss the wife and kids goodbye, get in the car, quickly head over to the bar and get shit faced drunk; then casually hop on the public transit bus we're driving and proceed to shuttle a bus load of people around the city. When passengers got on this bus, they didn't think their $2.75 bought them the ride of their life. Hell, it's a lot cheaper than Wonderland (local amusement park), and the lines aren't nearly as long. This particular driver is now looking forward to a long career in alcoholism. One has to assume that this wasn't his first try at drunk bus driving. I wonder how many times this guy fell off the wagon and into the driver's seat of a public vehicle.

Graphic Recreation of Intoxicated Driver's Route

(Click Image For Full Size)

Thanks for reading my blog. Tell your friends.

"Nah...No One Is Probably Looking..."

2008-06-02T13:14:00.000-07:00

There's no doubt that we live in an age where the privacy of an everyday person is inconsistent at best. So you can well imagine the life of a celebrity and the total lack of privacy they are afforded on a day to day basis. I mean the paparazzi is always lurking, patiently waiting behind their hedges for that shining moment where a vagina lip breaks free from a pair of short shorts or a nipple finds its way out of a low cut blouse. They literally spend their entire lives waiting for the opportunity to snap a photo of a sliver of areola. It's a sad life, but even sadder is that these guys/girls get paid very well to essentially be that guy who had to go door-to-door introducing himself to everyone when he moved to the neighbourhood. "Tom? No sweetie, he was just introducing himself to us, but I swear to god...if I catch you anywhere near him, I'll kill you." Tom should have moved to Hollywood where he could be the exact same amount of pervert without all that sexual offenders list hassle, but that's another article. I'm here today to tell you that celebrities are stupid...and dogs bark, and coffee wakes you up, and the New York Yankees' fans are idiots. Pretty redundant, I know, but honestly have you ever sat down and really thought about it? Well I have and here's the gist of it. Celebrities go out in their skimpy bikinis and wear skirts with no underwear while they are knowingly being followed by a group of photographers rivaling the size of their own entourage. All I can say is, "thanks". Thanks for driving the online blogging world and giving us all something to look at with your constant ignorance towards the fact that you are being watched at every moment of every day. You are being watched while being watched. There's people watching the people watching you, and somewhere down the line, the whole world will eventually be watching. So what the fuck guys? Maybe wear a bra next time, or some underwear, or don't get changed in public. Whatever actually…keep doing it so we can keep doing stuff like this...

The "Nah...No One's Probably Looking" Greatest Hits...

First up we have Angelina Jolie. Granted I've probably seen her breasts more than I've seen most of my uncles, she should still sort of cover those bad boys up. You have to question the judgment of arguably the most watched celebrity in the business when she's out on a balcony in broad daylight with her tits flapping in the wind. What do you suppose the odds would be that there was a photographer close by just waiting for something like this to happen. Someday her 600 adopted kids will grow up and go to high school. Then what? Regular beatings and taunts, obviously. Going to high school being a kid with a good looking mother is hard enough, throw in some tit shots and a make out session with her own brother at the Oscars and we have a recipe for a teenage suicide. Here's hoping they go to the same school as one of Lindsay Lohan's inevitable bastard offspring. That'd take the heat off a little.

Meet Lilly Allen. You probably don't know who she is because she's just barely a celebrity. She's a singer or a dancer or a doctor or...I dunno. She's a celebrity, you just gotta trust me. Anyhow, here she is cliff jumping topless. My guess is that she figured anyone watching would assume that she was a straggler that got away from the group on a field trip from an all-boys school. Maybe she just doesn't care because almost no one knows who she is. Maybe she's a free spirit. Either way, if she was hoping that her almost-breasts would be all over the internet hours after doing this, then mission accomplished. Oh and thanks for ruining my lunch.

Here's Jessica Simpson administering a self breast examination or trying to execute a porno-esque self nipple lick. At any rate, she's doing this outdoors on a tropical vacation. I guess she thought the paparazzi wouldn't travel. I think that she's just sick enough to have done this in hopes of being photographed so that she could steal some of the attention away from her sister's lesbian wedding to Pete Wentz. I really hope that this was an accident and I think it is a viable conclusion since Jessica Simpson is about as smart as my right testicle. At least she won't have to worry about her boyfriend, professional ball-dropper Tony Romo, getting on her ass about "screwing up".

I've saved the best for last. Paris Hilton is all about filling the public eye with boatloads of nudity, sex, and all around ridiculousness so putting up a picture of a nip slip or upskirt shot would be par for the course. I never half ass it. This one is a doozie, folks. Here's Paris Hilton rearranging her stuff like a major leaguer on a beach in Mexico. This photographer must have had dollar signs in his eyes. They have an old saying in the photog business..."A handful of vag is a handful of cash" and if that's true then this particular photographer was double fisting it. Why in the world would anyone need to be digging that deep into their bikini bottoms...two handed? I'm not a female or an expert on vaginal wedgies or bathing suits or anything, but this just looks plain old unnecessary. By all means ladies, correct me if I'm wrong in the comments section, but Paris appears to be one knuckle away from public masturbation. Oh man, and look at that smirk on her face. The head tilted slightly downward in that "I'm gonna rape you" pose. Sick. Utterly disgusting.

These photos were all courtesy of egotastic.com. Head on over there and check out the uncensored photos, except for the Lilly Allen ones. You might just want to pass on those.

Tell all the sleazy shameless celebs you know about my blog.

Conan VS Fallon: The Not-So-Great Debate

2008-05-27T13:19:00.000-07:00

So it was announced a few weeks ago that, when Conan O'Brien takes the reigns of "The Tonight Show with Jay Leno", Jimmy Fallon will step in as his replacement on "Late Night with Conan O'Brien". For a floundering network that is "carrying the lunch" at 4th in the major network rankings, they sure aren't taking the proper steps to turn this slump around. I place the blame on the soon-to-be fired NBC Co-chair, and undisputed decision maker, Ben Silverman. This guy is a douche by nature and a cunt by profession. I could list all the bonehead moves he's pulled, but it would be useless since each of them is eclipsed by the choice to have Jimmy Fallon overtake "Late Night"; not necessarily in magnitude, but in sheer stupidity. Granted Conan O'Brien has some pretty large shoes to fill, but Fallon could climb in there with a sleeping bag and still have room for his guitar and coloring books. To call the man childish would be an insult to kids who can go five minutes without breaking into a giggle-fit. How is this guy expected to carry on a conversation with anyone for any length of time?

God forbid Jimmy Fallon's idol Will Ferrell ever guests on the show. Go back and watch old episodes of "Saturday Night Live" and note the almost lustful adoration in Jimmy's eyes each time he's in a skit with Will Ferrell (photo courtesy of sexy BOOTY lisa debo). Fallon always gave off the impression that he was the special needs step-son of Lorne Michaels that just hung around the stage because no one had the heart to tell him to fuck off. He contributed nothing to the show past breaking character at a rate that made it seem like he was a type-cast actor who only played characters that broke character. The only time he's really been able to act like a human adult is in his movies, but that's probably because, during filming, they had to cut so many times that it seemed like an emo documentary. At least "Late Night" is taped so we'll be afforded the luxury of not having to see his laughing fits, but there's the risk of shows not going to air because they couldn't finish the taping soon enough to actually make the time slot. At 11:35 p.m.: "Late Night will be unable to air tonight because host Jimmy Fallon has been rolling around under his desk and chuckling like a stoned camp counselor for the past 7 hours."

There is just no plausible way that Fallon can even come close to putting on the caliber of show that Conan has been delivering for the past 14 years. Although entirely unnecessary in a functional sense, I've decided to see how these men stack up in a few key categories if only for the sake of comedy at the expense of Jimmy Fallon...

Looks:

Alright, well I'm a fair man and I can admit that Jimmy Fallon is far better looking than Conan O'Brien. Not really because Fallon is a manly stud banquet, but more so because Conan O'Brien looks like...well...he's a big tall red headed pale guy. Put it this way, the search for Orphan Annie's father is over. So somehow, Fallon actually wins a category. Soak it up, man-child.

Hair:

Do we even need to discuss this? If David Letterman's mark is the gap in his teeth, then Conan's is surely that fiery pompadour. And my god has he ever stuck with it. You have to admire the man's resolve. Fallon, on the other head, is a joke. Conan's hair is funny in that way that you know it and he knows it and everyone knows it and it's hilarious. Fallon's hair is funny in the way that we know it's funny, but he doesn't. I love jokes like that. I can only describe Jimmy's hair as two black satin sleeping masks wrestling each other on a crow's tail. Conan takes this one easily. (Get used to hearing that.)

Credentials:

Alright, well let's see here. Jimmy has had a leading role in two mainstream movies. One was Fever Pitch, which I think is the real life story that Benny and Joon was based on; and the second is Taxi with Queen Latifah. What do you get when you mix a big fat sassy black woman and a really shy and quirky skinny white guy? Horse shit, that's what. Pure 100% high grade horse shit. Conan has made a few cameos in movies, but for the most part, he has stayed the hell out of there, which is a plus. Do what you're good at. As far as writing goes, on top of penning a lot of the material on his own show, Conan has written for "Saturday Night Live" (1987-1991) and the motherfucking Simpsons, man! "The Simpsons". Jimmy Fallon wrote the "SNL Christmas Special 2002", which went right from his ink jet to Lorne Michaels' fridge: sharing a magnet with Chevy Chase's coked out finger paintings. Let's just hope they don't let him write for "Late Night", unless you have any interest in a laugh-musical-talk-show. Two shitty movies and no writing experience versus "The Simpsons" and "SNL". Oh wait, what about that Diet Pepsi commercial Fallon did with Parker Posey? It was either an ad for Diet Pepsi or the Gay Pride Parade. Conan takes this one easily.

Comedic Skills:

Forget comedic timing, Jimmy Fallon doesn't even know when to laugh at other people's jokes. He has made a farce of literally every skit he was ever been involved in on "SNL" because he's physically incapable of keeping a straight face while on the air. The best comedy he has produced has been with a guitar in his hand, and musical comedy isn't funny. Inversely, Conan was the effing man. From his goof-ball delivery to his risky brand of comedy, he made me laugh night in and night out for many years. I am overjoyed that he is finally replacing that piece of shit hack Jay Leno. "The Tonight Show" can finally be good again. Conan O'Brien is funnier at the dentist than Jimmy Fallon could ever dream to be on his best day. This one is a no brainer.

So there you have it. My prediction is that neither Jimmy Fallon nor Ben Silverman will be working for NBC by New Years 2010, and that's being very generous.

5 Things That Won't Exist in 10 Years

2008-05-23T13:06:00.001-07:00

Porno Video Stores

Once the technologically challenged old timers are too old (impotent) to jerk off, there will be no need for stores hocking Porno rentals. Fogies who are afraid of the "damned webnets" are the only thing keeping these relics above water. Porn is free and in abundance all over the internet. I mean, with the pop ups, I'm looking at porn even when I don't want to. While I'm furiously clicking boxes to get the heaps of titty off my screen, there's a 50 something browsing through the barely legal section of an adult store ready to drop $50 on a nice weekend alone. Also, remember when you watched that favorite part of your favorite porno so many times that the specific spot on the tape was worn and the screen would go sort of fuzzy when it got to it? Yeah, that doesn't happen on the internet. Peace out, creepy, grimy, sticky, smelly adult video stores.

Subway Drivers

Just barely graduating high school, over-paid wastes of my tax dollars...meet GPS. GPS is your enemy. GPS wants to do your job for a small one time fee. GPS likes it when you reject bargaining offers that would see you getting paid $62000 a year by 2010. GPS is a big fan of your sour attitude and all around ineptness. You better watch it or GPS is probably going to sleep with your wife too. Before you know it, your kids will be calling GPS "daddy". The dream is over, subway drivers. You know that dream where you didn't go to college and then fell ass backwards into a union job at which you put forth zero effort and still complained about it? Yeah...it's over. Peace out stupid, surly, spoiled subway drivers.

America's Reign of Power over the World

Go go gadget China! They have more people who consume more. They aren't giant assholes...yet. They're cleaner, more efficient, and consider deadlock traffic to be an inconvenience not the 4th largest sport in their country. NASCAR sucks, by the way. America will be seeing red sooner than we think and although I probably haven't considered the damaging side effects that I, as a Canadian, will feel from such a shift in power; I'm still excited as fuck. Peace out ignorant, Big Mac smelling, gun carrying, sweaty Americans. (Not the Americans that read this blog though. When shit goes down, you can come and stay at my place.)

Barry Bonds

Steroids kill you quick. Yes, the long-term effects of steroids are largely unknown. An exhaustive 30 second google search turned up no evidence to the contrary, but you can look no further than the world of professional wrestling for all the proof you need. Stan Stasiak, Brian Pillman, Rick Rude, The British Bulldog, Hawk (Legion of Doom), Bad News Brown, and many others. All of them were overly muscular men who died of heart failure. Maybe I'm being presumptuous, or maybe steroid users die faster than that craze where all the kids had plastic baby soothers hung around their necks. I digress. Hank Aaron was absolutely pissed when you broke his home run record, but at least he can take comfort in knowing that he'll probably outlive you. Peace out pompous, drug abusing, over-the-top, cheating son of a bitch Barry Bonds.

Facebook

Oh boo-fuckity-hoo. Face the facts, the endless applications are a sign of the demise of Facebook. It's becoming a task just to navigate somebody's page. Sadly, knowing that somebody's status is "excited for prom" is just about as useless as knowing how many zombies they've killed in that fucking zombie application. Facebook has abandoned hope and slid head first into desperation only to be tagged out by the next popular networking site to come along. Don't believe me? I'll leave you with one word: Friendster. What the fuck is Friendster? Exactly. Peace out everyone knowing everyone's business, confusing, intrusive, career destroying Facebook.

Try and make sure that my blog is still around in 10 years by telling everyone you know to read it.

Burning Terrorist has balls shattered by hero cab driver

2008-05-22T09:11:00.000-07:00

Alright, here's the REAL story...

I was looking through my old laptop, which I no longer use, and found a photo that made me laugh. I had totally forgotten about it, and I think there was an actual real news story that went along with it. The thing is...I don't remember that news story. In lieu of the truth, I just went ahead and made up what I believe to be the story that goes along with this photo. The photo is a digital camera picture of the cover of a Scottish newspaper. The second photo inset in the article is just a portion of the original picture that I've blown up a bit bigger so that it's easier to see. Anyhow, enjoy...

SCOTLAND - A local cab driver is being touted as a hero after foiling the plans of a notorious terrorist group on Tuesday.

It seemed like just another morning of driving Scottish citizens to the bar when Nikolas "Nik the Kick" Titov found himself in an extraordinary situation. While picking up his next fare, Titov spotted a suspicious looking man dousing himself in kerosene outside of the headquarters of the Scottish Fire Department. Fortunately, the unnamed suspect couldn't locate his lighter and was forced to resort to matches, which gave Titov the time needed to get to him.

Just as the terrorist ignited himself in flames and began to run towards the building, he was met head on by Nikolas Titov. Wasting no time, the cab driver-turned-hero delivered a kick to the man's testicles so vicious that even female onlookers were clutching their crotches and wincing in pain. Luckily the initial shot was more than enough to incapacitate the "flamer" because the sheer impact of the ball blow snapped a tendon in Titov's foot; making a follow up effort near impossible. Authorities had already arrived on the scene by the time "Nik the Kick" had limped back to his taxi. One fireman, who had been drinking coffee all morning, quickly dulled the "manferno" with a hot stream of urine (picture below on right). The suspect was then taken to the hospital before jail, but his "berries" could not be saved.

It is believed that the burning terrorist's intended target was the Scottish Fire Department's recreational swimming pool. A rash of similar incidents has broken out in the past few weeks at swimming pools across Scotland. Authorities believe that Titov may have gone a long way in making an example of the terrorist to other members in the group. It is the hope of all Scottish citizens that these men will now think twice about lighting themselves ablaze and cannonballing into swimming pools.

Being modest, Nikolas Titov has refused all medals and certificates of merit for his heroics stating, "I was just happy I could shatter [a] man's testicles. The sound of two nuts crashing violently against each other is more reward than [any] medal could give me." Since the incident, job offers have been pouring in from organizations looking for a reliable foot for hire. Most notably, an NFL team, the Indianapolis Colts, has expressed interest in bringing him in as a place kicker noting, "Since [Mike] Vanderjagt, we've been looking for a kicker that prefers to kick dicks rather than be one." Titov has turned down all offers deciding to dedicate his time to going around local neighborhoods snuffing out flaming paper bags of dog shit with his "miracle foot".

Please tell all the burning terrorists to visit my site before nailing them in the junk.

Cat VS Snake VS Bad Acting

2008-05-21T07:12:00.001-07:00

Correct me if I'm wrong but I'm pretty sure that's a young Jackie Chan in the video. Either way, I don't think they had great CGI effects in old Chinese animal fighting movies, so this seems to be a straight up street fight - no weapons- between a cat and a snake. No smoke, no mirrors, all fury. I'll admit that the snake was no doubt drained of all its venom before the battle, but regardless, this cat handles his biznass. Speaking of business, what in the mother fuck is Jackie Chan doing on the beach in the end there? That can't be good for business.

If YouTube tries to lie to you and say this video is no longer available, you can view it HERE
(Courtesy of gorillamask.net)

So there you have it. A cat is pretty well matched against a cobra with no venom. This reminds me of the days when me and my friends would have too much kool-aid and get to talking about animal fights in the wild. I'm going to list off a few wildlife battles and I want you guys to let me know who you think would win in the comments section.

Eagle VS Giraffe
Rhino VS Puma
Grizzly Bear VS Anaconda
Dolphin VS Sea Lion
Penguin VS Tortoise
Gorilla VS Hippopotamus
Coyote VS Kangaroo
Panda VS Koala (The Cutest Fight Ever!)

Remember ANYONE CAN COMMENT NOW.

Have a tremendous day and please tell your friends about my blog.

"Fan" Mail

2008-05-15T08:11:00.000-07:00

Attn: Hollister
Re: Being Ridiculous

Dear Hollister Creative Executives,

We are sick of you. We are sick of shitty cologne and surfboards and playing on the beach and jeeps with no doors and people that look like Zach Morris who take off their shirts too much. We are sick of our newly purchased clothing items smelling like your store. We are sick of having to trade a quick browse in a shop for being engulfed in the unmistakable stench of college, and we are certainly sick of shopping in the goddamn dark. We do not want to be a part of your lifestyle. We do not want to look like thousands of other people, just in a different color. We are sick of your lies. Your first store opened in Columbus, Ohio. Nothing says Huntington Beach, California quite like the state of Ohio. When I think sunny beaches, skimpy bikinis, and Paris Hilton nip-slips, the first place that always pops into my mind is Columbus, O-fucking-hio. The insanity ends now.

Why the hell would I purchase a piece of clothing that already smells like the Italian National Soccer team has worn it out for a night on the town? Is this the best that your marketing team could come up with? "Yeah, I think we should have our employees douse our merchandise in cologne at the beginning and end of each shift. I mean, it's the right thing to do." Tremendous move, fellas. Brilliant. Now not only are we overpaying for our clothes, we're also footing the dry cleaning bill to get that $45 golf shirt smelling more like our own and less like a Hummer full of frat bros. On top of this, by merely coming within 25 feet of the store, we are agreeing to spend the rest of the day radiating a thick fog of Hollister stench; one that will take 6 showers and an exorcism to wash off of our tainted skin. Furthermore, due to your aggressive franchising strategies, you're also rolling the dice with having your store being located in the vicinity of a food court. God help us all. It says something when you'd rather smell like the inner depths of the food court than have to reek of Huntington Beach, California.

Since when did companies stop selling products and start selling "lifestyles"? When you pull that Hollister T-shirt over your head, you're not just covering your torso with material, you're putting on a way of life, and that's just how Hollister likes it…

"I am wearing a Hollister t-shirt. I have blonde highlights in my hair but you can't see them underneath my white baseball cap turned backwards. I am probably wearing flip-flops. I like to take risks and surf. I am moments away from taking this new shirt off because I didn't do 1000 crunches this morning to hide these thunder-abs under a sheath of cotton. I have guns and pipes and pythons without any interest in weapons or plumbing or reptiles. I excel at beer pong and keg stands and flip cup. I need my messages instant, my noodles instant, and my tans instant. I need everything this second or I'm gonna throw my Nalgene bottle at you. I demand respect and pussy. I'm Hollister, motherfucker."

FUCK. THAT. When bad pop culture predicted the future to be filled with people dressed in matching shiny silver jumpsuits, they weren't that far off; they just forgot to emblaze "HCO" across the chest. The only thing that distinguishes you from a fellow Hollister wearer is the fact that your golf shirt is teal and his is Easter egg yellow. Why launch an "American Lifestyle" clothing brand without designing more than three shirt styles? I must be confused. I think your website is supposed to say "USSR Circa 1986 Lifestyle Clothing Brand". I understand that if you factor in color choices, plus the difference between "Hollister" or "HCO" being scrawled across the chest, essentially thousands of options are available. However, the fact still remains that you're only a few letters and one shade of color away from being falsely accused in a frat house murder.

Long gone are the days when we all wondered what it was like for Ray Charles to go shopping for clothes. Hollister, being the cagey marketing wizards that they are, saw this need and filled it fast. Why in the mother-loving world would I want to shop for my clothes in a store with lighting barely better than the Bat Cave? How are we to know if that sweet shirt is soft pink or salmon? What if I want to count how many fake rips are in my jeans? Why do you dress up your female employees in short skirts and tight shorts if it's too dark to adequately ogle them and have you considered how many employee rapes go down in that dark corner by the hoodies? A lot. At least go all the way with it. This is America, the land where absolutely nobody half asses it...not even the President. Follow suit and take this concept to the next level. Just have customers hand you crisp hundred dollar bills then grab a random item out of a massive bin in the stockroom and blast it down a chute in the back alley where the happy patron awaits. This way, instead of being frustrated and embarrassed, they can be excited, then bewildered, and finally disappointed. Hey at least it's interesting. Honestly, how much can fluorescent lights cost? Maybe it's that you feel light bulbs are overpriced and spending way more money than needed on an item of necessity is unjustifiable. You know what? We feel the exact same way...where's Old Navy again?

Signed,

Everyone

Wake Me Up When September Ends

2008-05-13T11:20:00.000-07:00

This article is my first posted on a Toronto Sports website I am now writing for. Visit tosports.ca for funny sports articles and the latest news in Sports. Enjoy...

Wake Me up When September Ends

Forget commandeering a multi-million dollar professional sports franchise, I wouldn’t even suggest John Gibbons be the manager of a McDonalds: the fries would always be left in too long and not a single burger would cross a plate when it actually mattered.

Baseball insiders have questioned the motives behind Gibbons’ hire and subsequent promotion through the ranks of the Blue Jays’ on-field management team. Gibbons made just 18 appearances in the entirety of his Major League career as a catcher before retiring in 1990. He spent the better part of 9 seasons in the minor leagues with a laundry list of injuries that makes A.J. Burnett look like Cal Ripken Jr.

Gibbons began his stay with the Blue Jays as a bullpen catcher in 2002; presumably a favor granted by former minor league roommate and current Jays General Manager J.P. Ricciardi. While rooming with Ricciardi, what sort of miraculous deeds did Gibbons perform to warrant a promotion from bullpen catcher to first base coach, and eventually, to team manager. Obviously J.P. and Johnny shared a close relationship, which is hard to believe, given the fact that Gibbons has notoriously butted heads with many people throughout his five year reign.

Gibbons’ relationship with his players has been volatile, beginning with Dave Bush in 2005. After an altercation with Gibbons, Bush was sent to the minors, and, following a trade in the offseason, the only thing “bush” that was left in Toronto was Gibbons’ management style. Since then, Gibbons publicly clashed with DH Shea Hillenbrand and starter Ted Lilly. No manager can be on good terms with every player coming through their clubhouse, but the departure of these players hurts when their absences are due, in large part, to the Jays management’s reluctance to rid the team of the standings anchor that has become John Gibbons. I think everyone could look past these squabbles except that the Jays are losing ball games as a direct result of their manager’s dumbfounded decisions.

In the end, baseball is just a pastime and for John Gibbons, bullpen mismanagement is the name of the game. It is no coincidence that no pitcher on the 1992 Blue Jays World Series winning team averaged more than 7 innings pitched per game. In fact if you remove the 21 game-winner, Jack Morris, from the equation, the rotation averaged just a tad over 6 innings pitched per game. Fast forwarding to the present, we see the likes of Jesse Litsch and A.J. Burnett going deep into close ball games to the detriment of the team. Maybe John Gibbons knows something that we, Cito Gaston, and a World Series ring doesn’t. I think Adam Lind getting on base is probably more likely.

While attending a recent game against the Chicago White Sox, I witnessed an example of Gibbons’ mismanagement. Shaun Marcum started that day, and to his credit, pitched a beautiful game that came dangerously close to being ruined because of Gibbons’ reluctance to go to his bullpen.

With two outs and slugger Joe Crede on deck, John “The Genius” Gibbons decides to leave his starter in to face the red hot Carlos Quentin. Marcum, although a brilliant young pitcher, had already given up five home runs in his previous five starts. In a two run baseball game with a homerun-susceptible pitcher on the mound and two bonafide home run hitters coming up, rather than turning to a fresh bullpen, Gibbons rolls the dice - leaving Marcum on the mound.

Based purely on statistics, if Quentin got on base, the game could be tied with one swing of Joe Crede’s bat. Though the Jays went on to win the game, this pivotal decision could have soured in a heartbeat. Decisions like these should be no-brainers for a Major League caliber manager, but unfortunately John Gibbons doesn’t, and will never fit that description.

Sadly situations like Friday are business as usual for the Toronto Blue Jays who, at the time of this writing, are flirting with .500 baseball. We have nearly all the tools to be a playoff contender and one very special “tool” preventing us from getting there. Mark my words; we will never make the playoffs with a wash out like John Gibbons at the helm. You can have the nicest, fastest, and most well put together car in the world, but at the end of the day you still need a license to drive it. How many times will the Jays crash and burn before someone checks this guy’s credentials?

The Rocket Apparently Likes To Rock It

2008-05-13T10:36:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't heard the news, MLB star and total jerk Roger Clemens is a dirty effing pervert. In all honesty, it is a (not-so) well kept secret in professional sports that the wives of the athletes turn the other cheek to their husbands' cheating habits presumably in order to ensure said cheek rests on a pillow made of fine jewels and cold hard cash. Still, this couldn't have happened to a more deserving man. In a span of 48 hours, the former Cy Young Award winner has been linked to a country singer, a real estate agent, and the ex-wife of pro golfer John Daly. It's a toss up as to which story is more ridiculous. On one hand, you have the fact that Clemens allegedly started his relationship with country singer McCready when she was just 15 years old, which immediately solidifies his redneck status, but the question on all of our minds is "are they related?" You would think that this story is easily the run away winner and you would be dead wrong. Just as interesting is his alleged tryst with John Daly's ex. Sleeping with her sets the stage for an inevitable celebrity boxing bout that will be dubbed "The Fallen Rocket vs The Loose Cannon". However, the way both of these men's careers are going, they may have to resuscitate the Bum Fights franchise just to get the damn thing on the air. The most intriguing aspect of this hilarious turn of events is the sheer rate at which these women are coming forward. If they can keep this pace, it'll only take 8 years for the amount of times Clemens hasn't "struck out" to surpass the tally of times he has struck someone else out (over 4700).

I think it's time for me to get in on the ground floor and do a little expose of my own on the Rocket. I worked tirelessy for maybe 25 minutes and assembled this timeline of Roger Clemens'"extracurricular" activities...

"Rocket" Roger Clemens Extracurricular Time Line

March 1983: Clemens chooses the #21 as a reminder to himself of the maximum age limit for girls he will sleep with.

May 1984: Celebrates MLB debut alone at a Boston-area Chuck-E-Cheese.

Fall 1986: Publicly declares his switch from "thrower" to "pitcher" and admits that the change has nothing at all to do with baseball.

August 1991: Clemens spends the entirety of his salary for that year on gifts for various "nephews" scattered across the United States, Canada, and parts of Cancun, Mexico.

1993-1996: Pitching production dips coinciding with an infidelity production surge.

June 1997: Teammate and fellow cheater Ed Sprague walks in on the Rocket doing steriods off the small of Brian Mcnamee's back.

Winter 1998: Defeats pro golfer John Daly in an arm wrestling match earning himself the right to sleep with Daly's then-wife as set out in the provisions of Redneck law.

June 2000: Becomes the first MLB player to ever be part of 3 grand slams in a single day after giving one up to Mike Piazza, having sweaty sex with a fat girl, and then capping off the night at a Denny's restaurant.

Spring 2003: Although never aired, Clemens submits his own cut of the Armour Hot Dog commercials consisting only of him, a 12-pack of frozen Armours, and the whole Dallas Cowboys Cheerleading team.

September 2003: Retires from cheating on his wife and walks away from an impressive 20 year career of being unfaithful.

January 2004: Makes the decision to return to cheating on his wife as long as it allows him to be closer to his family.

Okay, I'll admit that some (or all) of this may be speculation (or flat out imagined) but you know what is true? You will tell people about my blog. Oh and obviously the first part about the cheating with people's ex-wives and underage girls was incredibly true, I was just talking about the time line part.

REAL Fantasy Sports

2008-05-13T10:28:00.000-07:00

What if the nicknames of sports teams were a true reflection of the team and/or its players? I present to you, last night's highlights in the world of Fake Literal Sports...

New Jersey Devils (NHL) vs. Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim (MLB)

This was a classic battle of good versus evil. Young center field prospect Jesus Christ turned in an MVP-like performance correctly pronouncing infielder Maicer Izturis' name an astounding two times, which the Angels' color commentator emphatically declared a "goddamned miracle". However, in the end, the Devils locked up an easy victory...seemingly too easy in fact. Angels’ manager Mike Scoscia later admitted in a post game interview that he had sold his soul to the Devils' owner, Satan himself, for his career .259 batting average and a guaranteed spot in the Italian Baseball Hall of Fame. Joe DiMaggio and Tommy Lasorda, both long deceased, were on hand in spirit as the only other members.

Washington Nationals (MLB) vs. Washington Redskins (NFL)

This historical battle played out in front of an abnormally small crowd as most scalpers had died off in the hours preceding the match. Led into Mayflower Sports Complex by star lefty Grain Alcohol, the Nationals came out absolutely gunning. Reliable catcher Small Pox blanketed the Redskins' offense. The energy in the building was contagious throughout the night as the home team literally raped and pillaged the opposition. The Redskins put up a valiant effort but in all honesty, it was like they brought a bow and arrow to a gun fight. The Nationals now look to their next opponents, the Cleveland Indians, as they continue their Manifest Destiny road trip to the west coast.

Notre Dame Fighting Irish (NCAA) vs. Montreal Canadiens (NHL)

The visiting Fighting Irish were forced to forego their pregame ritual of pounding whisky shots and beating their kids when the host Canadiens stocked the away dressing room with only red wine and orange soda. The game started out as planned with the Irish coming out swinging while the French Canadian side organized a referendum to separate itself from sports entirely. The Fighting Irish sealed the victory when the Canadiens decided to return to their French roots and concede the battle well before their loss was sure.

Utah Jazz (NBA) vs. Minnesota Wild (NHL) vs. Orlando Magic (NBA) vs. Cleveland Browns (NFL)

All 4 of these teams brought a ton of intangibles to the table due in large part to fact that they are, by name, intangible. This epic sport event was the first of it's kind to charge fans admission to an empty arena in which they sat and imagined what it would be like for a dark art, bland color, music, and...uhh...I guess a span of forestry to all collide in brutal competition. Each being versatile enough to cover the noun and adjective categories of grammar, these teams matched up well against each other. I would like to think that the Magic 'pulled' a victory out of their 'hat', but in the end the winner was really just up to your imagination. Picture Miles Davis VS David Copperfield VS Your Dad's Recliner VS A Tree (?). Intense.

Philadelphia 76'ers (NBA) vs. San Francisco 49'ers (NFL)

This one came down to the numbers. Heavy favorite, the 76'ers, were surprised to be informed that this wasn't a "higher number wins" competition. In the end, the fans were disappointed to learn that they were all a small part of a more elaborate game of "pick a number" in which neither 76 nor 49 was chosen. In an attempt to salvage the experience, the second parts of each number got together to excite and arouse the crowd. Everyone left satisfied.

Chicago White Sox (MLB) vs. Boston Red Sox (MLB)

This event took place in the fabled Top Drawer of Your Armoire Stadium along the Leaking Furnace River in picturesque The Basement, Your Mom's Place. The cold fact that it's not Christmas season put the Red Sox at an immediate disadvantage. Then when your father came down and demanded that you mow the lawn, the White Sox triumph was all but in the bag. In a sudden twist of events, you stubbed your heel on your hamster cage and turned to the underdog Red Sox to conceal the "boo boo juice" from the prying eyes of MILF joggers passing by. Defying an almost 15-1 player disadvantage (star White Sock, Hanes FruitLoom, has been missing since laundry day Wednesday), the Red Sox victory went down as one of the biggest upsets in fake sports history.

This article has been put up on collegehumor.com! Please take some time to sign up to the site and click the "digg" and "like it" links at the bottom of the article. This would help me out greatly. The link is HERE

As always, tell your friends about my blog.

Celebrity Baby Nostradamus

2008-05-13T09:37:00.000-07:00

Ever since I was little and predicted young Drew Barrymore's descent into child acting alcoholism and drug abuse, I've known that I had a unique talent. I made a promise to a mysterious monk that I would never call upon those powers again. But fuck it, that douche has been living in my apartment for the past 4 years and hasn't offered up rent once. So, 20 years later, here I am trying to source those powers after all this time. I'll do my best...

The Kid: Apple Paltrow-Martin
The Parents: Gwenyth Paltrow and a poor man's Thom Yorke
Recipe For Disaster:
1 cup of Bad Acting
2 pinches of self righteousness
1 litre of "Yellllllooooooooowwwww"
Future Endeavors: Apple will snub her parents' encouragement to become a triple threat entertainment star (Acting, Singing, Alcoholism) and settle for a modest life of working in a supermarket produce section. When her trust fund money runs thin, she will turn to affixing the trademark symbol to her name and marketing the new iGiveUp touch screen suicide machine.
Cause of Eventual Death: Eaten by a health conscious cannibal.

The Kid: Zoie Laurel May Herpin
The Parents: Stephanie from Full House and Cody Herpin
Recipe For Disaster:
2 Tbsp of Sexually Ambiguous First Names
1 Pinch of Brief Child Stardom
3 Handfuls of Uncle Jessie
Future Endeavors: Zoie will deal with the ups and downs of living with father Cody's brother-in-law and best friend. She will get into quirky situations that always seem to resolve themselves by the end of each episode. The heart felt background music will eventually invade her dreams and consequently drive her mad. She will move out of the house at 18 to pursue a porno acting career. Ironically, the first movie she will star in will be a graphic gang bang film entitled: "Full House".
Cause of Eventual Death: A methamphetamine lab explosion causes her untimely death while simultaneously ruining the family business.

The Kid: Yet To Be Hilariously Named
The Parents: Jessica Simpson's less attractive sister and some emo guy from some emo band
Recipe For Disaster:
Equal Parts Angst, Anxiety, Anger, and Alliteration
Future Endeavors: By far the most stylish kid at school, this emo love child will be told repeatedly they look like their father regardless of what gender they turn out to be. They will be exposed while hosting Saturday Night Live to go down in history as the first person to ever be caught wrist-slit-synching.
Cause of Eventual Death: Is there really any doubt? Joe Simpson murder-suicide, obviously.

The Kid: Liam Aaron McDermott
The Parents: The annoying broad from 90210 and Dean McDermott, Canadian Actor
Recipe For Disaster:
3 Shakes of Silicone Polluted Breast Milk
1 Too Many "Uncles" Who Never Seem To Buy You Birthday Presents
3 Dashes of flat-out child neglect
Future Endeavors: Will realize at age four that he is more mature than his mother. By age nine, questions will arise about why all the other kids have "human mommies" and he has a "horse mommy". Will quit a childhood acting career to go to high school only to be faced with an adverse situation subsequently coming dangerously close to not graduating. Jason Priestly, still working on passing Grade 11 Gym, will rally the whole school behind his cause.
Cause of Eventual Death: Will break a leg in the big race leaving his trainers with no other choice but to shoot him in the face with a rifle.

The Kid: Nahla Ariela Aubry
The Parents: Halle Berry and some French-Canadian Super Model
Recipe For Disaster:
2 gorgeous helpings of juicy tit
4 cups of poutine
Countless nightmarish recalls of mom getting down with Billy Bob Thornton
Future Endeavors: Accepts $500,000 per breast from Gerber Foods Corp to appear topless in a baby food ad.
Cause of Eventual Death: After working his way back into Halle's life, David Justice demonstrates that he's "still got it" by knocking the kid's head RIGHT OUTTA THE (nearby neighbourhood) PARK!!!

The Kid: Marquez Anthony Caruso
The Parents: David Caruso (you know...that fucker from CSI: Miami) and Liza Marquez
Recipe For Disaster:
1 million strands of red hair
4 failed attempts at genuine acting
1 so-so looking mom
Future Endeavors: At an early age, Marquez developes obsessive compulsive sunglasses disorder. Cannot start any day without a quick blast of the intro to "Won't Get Foooled Again" by The Who. Eventually goes on to star in CSI's 16th iteration: CSI: Robert Downy Junior's Apartment.
Cause of Eventual Death: A mysterious murder where you think its gonna be the first guy they bring in, but then it turns out it isn't, but then in the end...IT ACTUALLY WAS!

Call all the babies you know and tell them to read my blog.

"Fan" Mail

2008-05-13T09:25:00.000-07:00

Attn: Martin Lawrence
Re: Not Being Funny

Something needs to be said. I'm calling you out Martin Lawrence. You have made 20 million dollars for two movies in the past, plus over 10 million in a few others. This has got to stop right now. Twenty million dollars is a lot of money. Do you think you've earned it? It needs to be brought to your attention that you are not funny. Not even a tiny bit. You weren't funny in the past, and even your past isn't funny. There is nothing funny about you. Your dog isn't funny, your face isn't funny. You are a plain average guy. You were born in Germany. There is nothing funny about Germany. Maybe your stand up comedy was funny, but based on your recent performances, why would I even give it a chance? You lost that right when you made Wild Hogs.

Wild Hogs. It's not enough that you're horrible at comedy, but you have to involve others in it? At first it didn't matter because you seemingly played every character on your God-awful television show, but now you're dragging other people down with you. First you manage to rope some decent actors (sort of) into doing Wild Hogs. Granted, John Travolta has always made bad choices; retorting with the old school comeback of "look who's talking" becomes far too literal when used on him. Tim Allen is a mess and he always has been. I could list all the reasons why, but who gives a shit? It's Tim Allen. William H. Macy, though? The same guy from The Cooler, Pleasantville, and Fargo? He signed up for Wild Hogs? You digust me, Martin Lawrence. I don't care if it's your fault. I'm making it your fault.

Why am I making it your fault? Three words. Big. Mama's. House. Yes, Eddie Murphy put on a bunch of costumes to play the characters in his Nutty Professor franchise, but he's actually funny and even he didn't really pull it off. Mike Myers did it a few years later and again, due to being funny, he sort of made it work. Then you attempt it. You're the third man in on a comedic gag and the best you can do is Big Momma's House? It's ridiculous and not just because no one wants to picture you as a fat old woman. There's many other reasons. Namely, it not being funny at all. I remember 2006 like it was yesterday. It had taken me ages to shake off the horror of it all. I was just recovering from the sheer torture of Big Mama's House; a pain that can only be compared to being bum raped by an iodine squirting longsword. Then some how, some way, the unfathomable happened. A team of (supposedly) highly capable studio executives sat around, what I imagine to be a massive table made entirely of rhinocerus ivory, and agreed that a sequel to Big Momma's House was a great idea. I assume afterwords they ate koala heads drizzled in bald eagle blood and laughed like villains. What the fuck, Hollywood? We pump our hard earned dollars into your pockets so you can buy your diamond encrusted tennis shorts and snake skin jet ski upholstery and how do you repay us? With Big Momma's House 2. With National Security. With Black Knight.

Now you've bestowed another gift upon us: College Road Trip. Hmm, how can we make Martin Lawrence even funnier?!? According to studio executives, the answer is goddamn obvious...pair him up with Donny Osmond. Just when you think life can't get any crazier, you wake up and realize that Martin Lawrence and Donny Osmond have joined forces to create the end of the world. To be completely frank, I'd rather not live in a world where people like Martin Lawrence and Donny Osmond get paid money to assault my spirit. Fuck you, Donny Osmond. Man, I don't get to say that often enough.

HEY MARTIN! Remember when you ruined the only episode of Saturday Night Live that you ever hosted? That was good times. C'mon Martin, you remember, right? You repeatedly swore and improvised your lines. You made an ass out of yourself and were probably intoxicated. Is this ringing a bell at all? It resulted in you being awarded a lifetime ban from hosting SNL. Yeah you remember. Quit pretending you were too hopped up on drugs, booze, and hookers to recall. Just for the record, you improvising SNL lines is like Hellen Keller improvising brain surgery. I'm just saying...sometimes things are better left in more appropriate hands.

The only glimmer in your career was Bad Boys, but you basically shit all over the damn thing and waited for Will Smith to clean it up. Twice. For a talent like Will Smith, a movie like Bad Boys was a springboard to better roles and more exposure. For you, it was a chance to act on camera like you do off camera. Loud, abrasive, and making desperate attempts at comedy. You were home. I'll admit it was cool to see TV actors swear and get into adult situations that didn't involve sneaking out past 9 pm to go to a pool hall, but that wore off after about 5 minutes of having to listen to your voice and see your face. GOD. You are so unfunny. Martin, I'm seriously not fibbing.

If you don't believe me, let's go over the numbers. You're 0% at the Teen Choice Awards and the MTV Movie Awards (anyone can win those, I won one this morning for best toilet shit in a supporting bowel movement). The truth is, I'm shocked that you were even nominated. Congrats. I thought for sure you were going to win Film-Wipeout Scene of the Summer in 2000. I was floored when you couldn't snag an award, which seemed so specific that it may have been made simply in order for you to win it. How many wipeout scenes do you think ocurred that summer on film? You continue to defy the odds. A master of chance.

I hope that this has been an awakening for you. Your sordid past of racism, sexual harassment, and drug abuse was tolerable. It's your career that is really offensive. Stop it now. Go back to doing whatever it was you were doing in that period after you lost your TV show to your lifelong battle with being a total asshole. Honestly, we all enjoyed the break.

Signed,
Everyone

Now I know somewhere Dane Cook is celebrating in a very loud and animated way. Well guess what Dane? I wouldn't party too hard just yet, you joke stealing hack. You could very well be next.

The MSN All Stars

2008-05-13T09:19:00.001-07:00

Look we all probably use MSN Messenger. At least most of us do, and those of us who have the pleasure of dealing with the odds and ends of instant messaging could easily name a few quirks that some users exhibit which thoroughly annoy us.

Allow me to introduce to you, hailing from places spanning the globe, a group of individuals that has been rocking the sport of instant messaging since day 1. Without further ado, I present a team that needs no introduction, YOUR...

*MSN All Star Team!*

The Player: MSN Ninja
The Skills: A notorious slacker in practice, this MSN veteran doesn't take the game seriously anymore. Their lack of consistency prevents them from operating on an acceptable level and this is reflected in their constant omission from any important team conversations. This player pops in and out of online status and has the uncanny ability to vanish at any given point during a conversation. This is usually a function of wireless internet...or years of kung fu training. Normally the Ninja will wait until they are engaged in an important conversation with you then disappear faster than a fatty's self-esteem.
Special Move: Going offline just as you are putting the finishing touches on typing a max-out length message, of great importance, to them.
Common MSN Names: "Had a great weeken", "GAHHHHHHHH, I hate wirele"
How To Play D: Buy the MSN Ninja an ethernet cable and help them hard line their CPU to their router or hope you can convince a Pirate to lend you a hand.

The Player: MSN Paradox
The Skills: While always being present at all team functions, this MSN player always seems to have "checked out". They have no grasp of the fundamentals, and the frailty of their mental awareness makes them a chronic liability. The MSN Paradox relies on a solid game of being online all the time yet never responding to any messages. This superstar is always accessible yet never responsive and that's just the way they like it. They are most likely your mom.
Special Move: RSVP'ing to your birthday party 6 Wednesdays after the party has occurred.
Common MSN Names: "Whoooo, Happy New Years everyone! 2005 is gonna be THE SHIT!!!", "Florida screwed Gore!"
How To Play D: Isolation and ignorance is the name of the game. Create an MSN group on your list called "People I Should Never Message" and stick them right at the top.

The Player: MSN Fonzie
The Skills: Flashy, frivilous, and a total dick...MSN Fonzie is the quintessential marquee player. His diva-eqsue actions are always calling his heart into question. To him, simply getting the job done is not enough. Fonzie's ultimate goal is to get the job done while alienating everyone around him. This MSN superstar is all about keeping up appearances.They are far too cool to be on MSN. Since no one ever calls them, they are forced to go on MSN in order to connect with people who secretly (but most likely puclicly) dislike them. MSN Fonzie will often have an excuse for being on "this piece of shit program", and it will always be neither credible or relevant.
Special Move: Criticizing you via MSN for being a "lame-o MSN user, bro"
Common MSN Names: "MSN IS GHEY!!!11", "Yo, just signing on to see were we geting crunkizzle tonizzle"
How To Play D: Just having this person on your MSN list is an indication that you may be in too deep. It's best to just roll with the punches and play the numbers. He won't be online too often and when he is, it won't be for long. You'll just have to play through the discomfort and hope it goes away as quickly as possible. Much like diarhea.

The Player: MSN NYSE Stock Ticker
The Skills: This player is a hard worker with a lot of character. Their game can be summed up in one word: dedication. They just go out there and enjoy themselves while giving a hundred and ten percent, 3000% of the time. The MSN Ticker is constantly working on their next MSN name. To this player, when it comes to names, anything goes. No one is safe. Nothing is sacred. By having this person on your list, you will never be out of touch with current events; both their own and the world's. Celebrity deaths, who's selling their car, how many corn chunks were in their poop, what was #1 on Letterman's last top ten list, why 911 was a hoax. It's all there for the world to see and the MSN Ticker is more than happy to provide up to minute news on literally everything.
Special Move: Somehow knowing and noting what kind of underwear you put on this morning. (Yep..a velvet thong. You're fucking sick, dude)
Common MSN Names: "My hamster is currently eating unsalted sun flower seeds using his hands and mouth. He is in his cage and his current mood is hungry.", "Walmart greeters are inconsistent. Some say due to age. Others say stupidity."
How To Play D: Look, as long as the planet is spinning on its axis, this player isn't going anywhere and you can't make them. This is a run out the clock situation. Eventually one of two things will happen: they will actually set their MSN name to something truly notable and you will congratulate yourself for hanging in there, or they will find another medium with which they can convey their thoughts and reports on planet everything.

The Player: MSN Doppelganger
The Skills: Shrouded in mystery, the MSN Doppelganger is almost always a player to be named later. Their versatility causes more confusion than benefits. They're often unable to be found when it matters the most. This player refuses to use their given name, last name, or relevant nickname in any part of their msn profile. Finding them on your MSN when you actually need to talk to them becomes extremely difficult. Their e-mail handle always produces foggy results and resembles them in no way whatsoever. This player gets off on the knowledge that finding them on your list is like participating in a wacky Korean game show.
Special Move: Being mistaken for someone else on your list and gaining crucial information about you in the process, which will presumably be used in further strengthening their propensity to confuse and bewilder.
Common MSN Names: "I am 'The One'", "I have eyes and frequently wear shirts"
How To Play D: Spend three weeks surveilling their instant messaging activities. When you're absolutely certain that you have identified them, right click on their name, choose "Edit Contact" and type the following into the "Nickname" field..."Cocksucking Doppelganger". From then on, not only will you know who they are, you'll also know exactly what they are all about.

The Player: MSN Backbone
The Skills: A franchise player in every sense of the word. This player is the pillar of Team MSN. What they lack in flair and personality, they make up for with their sheer willingless to participate. This player relies on work ethic and hustle to get by. The MSN Backbone is online and ready to talk at every moment of the day. They do not screw around with the politics of msn status and image. They pride themselves on playing the right way. Often, this person is a massive loser, albeit a loveable one.
Special Move: Helping you finish your overdue essay at 6 am...on a Saturday...stone cold sober.
Common MSN Names: "[First and Last Name typed out in regular characters]"
How To Play D: Look, you're going to want this person on your side. The MSN Backbone is worth their weight in heroin and don't you ever forget it. Playing D against Backbone would be like playing D against a delectable ham and cheese sandwich. Some forces aren't meant to be stopped.

Please feel free to leave comments about which MSN All Star you are and other All Stars that I may have missed. Also, don't forget to let all the MSN haters in your life know about this article.

Emo: New, Refreshing, Not Ridiculous At All

2008-05-13T09:11:00.000-07:00

So let's talk emo. Today I'd like to take a few minutes out of my day to discuss a few things regarding this subculture that has emerged amidst the heavy trials and tribulations of living in the now. Emoes are tortured souls who draw their power of being some of the most annoying humans on the planet from their constant struggle with the ills of everyday life. I'm talking pain here. The excruciating emotional pain that only a teenager can experience. The holocaust? Child's play. The great depression? A joke. The Rwandan Genocides? More like a pillow fight shared between close friends. I'm talking fucking tragedy here. I'm talking about being 5 minutes too late for purchasing Fall Out Boy tickets. I'm talking about losing your cell phone in a toilet full of throw up. I'm talking about TRAGEDY. Tra-ge-dy. I'm talking about someone criticizing your choice of color when buying those new Chuck Taylors. TRAGEDY. This is what they face. This is what they're up against.

Insurmountable.

You cannot be emo unless you are brutally committed to originality. They are just so damn individualistic and unique. They are not like the goth culture of the late 80's and 90's in any way. They are totally original. Wearing drab makeup and acting sad has never been attempted in the history of man. They are literally taking ground, breaking it into a million little pieces and declaring it "new". This is pain. This is tragedy. This is something that no one, who doesn't own at least 4 shades of black lipstick, can ever understand or feel. They ARE NOT new aged goths. They are original. They are the innovating masters of the sadness specter. They will not conform.

You cannot possibly say emo without mentioning the greatest little phrase in the history of the universe. Fucking get your hands on roughly 1 million q-tips and remove the votive sized bundles of ear wax from your ear for this. Call your kids and wake your parents. This will rock the shit right out of your ass crack. Here we go...Emoes are non-conformist. You show me an emo who doesn't believe with the entirety of their heart that they are non-conformist, and I'll show you an emo who ain't shit in the emo world. If you are non-non-conformist and have the audacity to call youself emo, you deserve to be shot in the face. Fuck it, I can't even go on with this whole sarcasm angle. I feel naked and dirty after typing the last couple paragraphs. Let's just be real. Here's the thing...NO ONE IS NON-CONFORMIST. We belong to a species called the human race. If you're really dedicated to this whole non-conformist thing, you would find a way to get a species change and become a fucking sea turtle. The bottom line in life is that we're all working towards the goal of procreation. This is what binds us together. You know Chad right? Chad. Cmon you know Chad. The guy in your art class who is so deep and sensitive and *gasp* he even wears makeup. Yeah, you know him. He's so dreamy. Well guess what...Chad is only acting this way so he can attract you, and females like you, in hopes of having sex with you. And believe, when Chad does have sex with you, there will be nothing deep and sensitive about it. Something to ponder while you wait for your pop tarts to burn. Of course you would burn your pop tarts. You like your food tortured just like your soul.

The music. Oh the music. Is there anything more annoying than a cyclical musical circle jerk. "I used to like My Chemical Romance but then they sold out, now I hate them like I hate myself." While you were too busy being depressed about your favorite band making money, you forgot to realize that your favorite band doesn't give a shit about you. Is your name Sales? No? Then they really don't give a shit about you. How stupid is it to base your music tastes on whether or not the band has signed with a major? The lead signer of that band you love so much is not deep. I take that back...he is deep. Knee deep. In pussy. Because that's why he's making the music. He's not looking to touch you in a profound way. Unless, of course, you are a groupie's labia. He is not a tortured soul. The last torturing thing he was involved in was his decision between a benz or a beamer. Choose the music you want to listen to because you like how it sounds. Don't base it on "selling out" or how "no one has ever heard of these guys that's how good they are!". It's stupid.

Contrary to popular belief, the main objective of an emo is NOT to kill themselves. The main objective of an emo is to come just close enough to killing themselves that people feel bad for them. Here it is plain and simple. YOUR DEPRESSION IS A PRODUCT OF YOUR LIFESTYLE, not the other way around. Change your life and you won't be depressed. But then what excuse would you have for being a 16 yead old male with a KD Lang hair cut and more makeup than a Geisha girl? I guess no excuse would be the answer to that question. Look. I understand people have serious real deal depression. I know that fact all too well. Emoes are a slap in the face to everyone who has ACTUALLY suffered from REAL depression. Here's a new cry-for-help strategy. Give it a shot...open your mouth and fucking cry for help. You are not depressed because you are tortured. You are not depressed. You are sad. You think you're sad because your boyfriend is slamming that girl who was your best friend yesterday and your bitter enemy last week. Really, you are sad because you spend all your time indoors indulging yourself in an intangible way of life. You see no real results from the way your spend your time so you cut yourself because the blood is real. The pain is real. Put down that exacto you lifted from art class and pick up a baseball bat. Or a violin. Or go jogging. Do something that doesn't involve myspace or MSN. People had it a hell of a lot worse 50 years ago and they were happier back then. Put shit in perspective. You have friends, you have a nice house, and you have every advantage at your finger tips. Your parents not letting you go to that party last weekend doesn't mean that they don't love you. They do love you and I'm sure a lot of other people love you too. Perspective. It's all about perspective. Don't kill yourself. Even if you ARE an emo...we'd rather you here than not here and that's the complete truth. Life is fucking the best thing there is. Better than PANIC! At The Disco. Better than lime green Chuck Taylors. Better than a burnt pop tart. Know it. Believe it. Remember it.

Questions? I Love Questions...

2008-05-13T09:00:00.000-07:00

When did changing your Facebook status start counting as staying in touch with your friends? How is "what do you mean what did I do last night? dude, check my FB status" acceptable? What if everyone changed their status to "out getting a fucking life" and actually followed through on it?

Why can't I see boobs on American television? How come I can see someone with "blunt force trauma" to the head on literally every episode of CSI, but not a pair of good old fashion all American breasts? What is more shocking to me as a human being? A guy with his brains seeping from his skull or a juicy pair of wholesome titties?

Are video game cheat codes tainting the value of hard work in the minds of our youth? Will someone ever invent the "get a girl to sleep with you" cheat code or a level skip password for when you have to go to church? Are our future leaders going to be constantly searching GameFaqs.com for the world peace map hack? If real world hacks and cheats actually do exist, should I be really afraid of Asian kids right now?

Why are there so many add-ons for my browser? Where is our society heading when you need Internet Explorer to tell you what day it is and what the weather is like outside? When do real life add-ons like a job or future aspirations come into play? Where can I download the "cougar radar" add-on? How is MSN a form of courtship? Since when does flirting require a solid internet connection? Is overhearing someone say, "yo that girl digs me, she totally gave me her hotmail address...SCORE!!!" the saddest thing you heard today? Or is it a glimmer of hope for your own personal (non)sex life?

Why do I have people as friends on Facebook that I wouldn't even dream of considering my friends in real life? How can I go to a party and not say a single word to someone, yet with the aid of their Facebook photos, know how many chunks were in their vomit last Saturday night?

Who is in control of the fucking media these days? If Tara Reid, Lindsay Lohan, and Britney Spears all died in a horrific bumper boats accident, would life go on? Is anyone else disgusted that when I say the word "Paris", you immediately picture a ridiculously spoiled famous-for-nothing jizz continuum, rather than a beautifully romantic city in France?

Why are our emotions limited to the amount of smilies we've downloaded? How many different ways can your computer smile at someone else's computer? Does exchanging emoticons on AOL or MSN count as a face to face meeting? In the future, will important business meetings be held via conference call or AIM group chat? What is the smiley for "society is royally fucked"?

I'm not here to provide answers, really. I'm not an "answers" sort of guy. Just a few things to ponder while you plan out your day of surfing the web, browsing the web, shopping on the web, webbing the web, looking at porno on the web, seeing the weather on the web, and talking on the web. Web web.

Unplug yourself.

And maybe while you're outside doing real people stuff you can urge your friends to read my blog.

Better Than PPV: Kimbo Slice VS Tank Abbot

2008-05-13T08:49:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I saw a video of the Kimbo Slice versus Tank Abbott fight. Although I was at work, I took a quick look. I liked what I saw. About an hour later, someone else sent me it on you tube. When I decided to view it again later in the evening it had disappeared from most sites due to copy write infringement. I know a lot of people have been waiting to see Kimbo in a sanctioned MMA match, and it is a tragedy that the video cannot be seen by everyone who can't afford to buy it on PPV. Since I'm such a nice guy, I've decided to give you a synopsis of what went down.

In the spirit of realism, I think the first order of business should be a tale of the tape. Anyone who watches any sort of fighting based sport knows that a tale of the tape is a good way to get a look at the boxers before seeing the action. This serves as an aid in making smart bets and taking your friends' money.

Tale Of The Tape

Kimbo:

Height: Larger than life, of course.

Weight: Somewhere between your weight and a fighter jet's.

Reach: es right into your soul using only his eyes.

Age: He says 34 and I believe him.

Bio: Kimbo was born when two monster trucks collided with eachother somewhere below the surface of the earth. He is comprised mainly of the power of everything combined. Some say he's more indestructible than time itself.

Hailing From: Somewhere that makes your neighbourhood seem like the library.

Special Skills: Dancing drunk, acting rowdy, and being an all around "that guy" in porno videos for inthevip.com.

Record: 3-0, but he has two sons named Kevin*...this motherfucker is caaaaaaaaaaaaaarazy.

Tank Abbot:

Height: 6 feet tall apparently. There's not a joke here...that's just actually quite surprising.

Weight: 2 hundred and who gives a shit, because he's going to lose anyways.

Reach: Like literally eight, maybe nine inches. Ten if he's really really not wanting to get off the couch for
something.

Age: Forty-Two. But when you drink that much whiskey, it could be pretty much anything.

Bio: The first, and only, recorded child to be conceived during a trailer fist fight. Abbott's genetic makeup is 95% Jack Daniels. Legend has it that each time he receives a concussion in the ring, his goatee grows a quarter of an inch.

Hailing From: I can only guess some sort of shanty. He has shanty dweller written all over him. That or a dump truck or something.

Special Skills: There is nothing skillful about what he does. If you've seen him fight then you know what I mean. If you haven't...imagine your fat uncle eluding a bumble bee.

Record: 9-14 in the ring, 0-100 in the bedroom.

The Fight:

We have to keep in mind that I watched this at work and I have no sound at work. Due to this annoyance, there are some parts that I cannot fully explain. However, I will do my best. No one said that this was going to be pretty. You should have paid to see the match live. I'm trying my best, asshole.

The fight begins with Kimbo exploding through a concrete wall and launching into the ring just as Abbott's KFC Family Bucket arrives. (Fucking hate when that happens) Kimbo punches Abbott repeatedly while Tank is swinging at everything like a Ray Charles softball camp. The referee separates the fighters for some reason. He says something to Kimbo like, "why do you have two sons named Kevin? How could someone be so ridiculous? I realize you're trying to have a fight here, but this needs to be addressed." The fighters are allowed to resume the fight. Abbott tests his "fighting while laying down" strategy. This does not work. Something seems to be thrown into the ring from the crowd or maybe Tank's mouth guard came loose when Kimbo was punching him a hundred times. Either way, Kimbo struts across the cage and launches the object back into the crowd. The mouth guard/random object, presumably, tears through the craniums of 5 people before coming to a rest somewhere in Thailand. The referee has some more words for Kimbo like, "maybe you didn't know about one of the kids until he was already named? But even then, what are the friggen' odds?" The fighters meet in combat once again. Kimbo hands out more punches than a grade 7 dance. Tank Abbott gladly receives them, stumbles, then regains his balance promptly in time for more blows to the jaw, neck, face, body, hands, shins, ankles, nose, ears, wrists, and ball sack. Kimbo, being late for his role as Guy Dancing Loudly #2 in a porno video, decides it's over time. He rears back in slow motion, cocks his fist into the shape of a skyscraper and lands a devastating blow that eclipses Abbott's entire body. Tank falls to the ground, a beaten man, for the 15th time in his famous, yet oh so insignificant and horrible career.

Moral of the story? Never fight Kimbo. Never leave Tank Abbott around your kids.

Hey, tell your friends to save money on PPV and read my blog instead.

*True effing story.

"Michael: Really? No Seriously, What The Fuck?" Issue #1

2008-05-13T08:39:00.000-07:00

My Room Mate is a Druid!!!11

About 12 years ago, I started my first day at a new school. I was just sort of lingering around the school yard avoiding the cooties epidemic that had reportedly taken the swing set by storm, and hoping to maybe strike up a conversation with a prospective friend. Just as I was dodging an errant 4 square ball, I heard a little British voice say something like "why don't we ever play soccer?" I liked soccer.

That little British voice turned out to be the voice of my future roomate, Michael.

Fast forward 12 years and I hate his damn guts. Maybe I'm embellishing a smidgen because deep down I guess I really love the little fucker, but man can he be hard on my spirit. When writing this blog, I had to consider him to be the greatest source of my material. There was no debate on whether he would be mentioned at great detail in various blog entries. The real question was "should I base the entire fucking thing on this guy?" And believe me, I could have.

Instead, I've opted to just give you brief installments of Michael from time to time in a feature I will call “Michael: Really? No seriously...what the fuck? ( inspired by my most common response to him). I've never been a fan of introductions or profiles since it's my belief that you'll probably learn it all along the way anyways, and you'll also feel better about yourself having earned it. As the frightening intricacies of Michael's life come flying at your face, your mind will begin to illustrate the master(bating)piece that is Michael.

The other day, I had someone over and for some reason we ended up in Michael's room watching him hard at work. See, Michael is under constant pressure at his job. Inflation is driving the value of gold way up and special professions are valued highly in the workplace. The economy is headed towards a recession in the wake of a brutal and pointless war (no he doesn’t work for the U.S government, good guess though!). Being a member of the Horde has caused undue on stress on Michael in the recent weeks. (What? The Horde?) Oh, did I forget to mention that Michael's job is playing World of Warcraft? I consider him to be an innovator by paying $14.99 plus applicable taxes each month to basically work a 9 to 5 job, except that job is a retarded video game. I'm sure there's been enough WoW hate blogs to clog Amy Winehouse's heroin wounds, so I'm not going to spend my time bashing the game or the people that play it. In moderation, the game is decently entertaining and I just want to make that clear. But C'MON. Seriously. C'mon. Spending 6 hours a day killing wolves over and over again so you can get to a higher level, which just enables you to kill slightly bigger wolves over and over again?

So here we are in Michael's room watching him play this sense numbing mind fuck of a video game and of course Michael is right into it. He’s got the gamer fuel in one hand, and a ridiculously expensive and aerodynamic wireless mouse in the other. (Aside: the amount of sex you have is in direct correlation to how much your mouse looks like the batmobile. [Adam West version...obviously]) While we looked on in quasi embarrassment for both ourselves and him, he felt the need to explain his character to us. So he began on and on about his "druid". At one point, he proudly stated, "My druid can turn into cool things like an owl, or a bear, or a seal!" To which I replied, "You know what would be really awesome? If your druid could turn into a guy that actually leaves his fucking apartment once in a while". What's funnier is that while I was busy apologizing for what I had said, he admittedly sighed, "No, you're right...I deserve that." So clearly he knows damn well that he's wasting his life.

*Cue the Danny Tanner morality speech music*

Why is it that we, as humans, have the ability to see fundamental changes that need to be made within ourselves, yet do not possess the skills to ACTUALLY make them? No matter what your girlfriend says, people can't change. Besides, your girlfriend is a c-word anyways. Break up with her and let's go for hot wings. Sure, people can stop smoking or walk differently (white thug swagger WHUT?), but the most primal constructs of our mind are final. No returns, no exchanges. I've seen people make changes in the short term, and sometimes even successfully for a brief period of time, but in the end you're going to end up like you always were. If you're a girl who cheated on her boyfriend in high school, I can guarantee you're going to be a wife who cheats on her husband in the office bathroom with the ethnic janitor that's always swearing too much. There's nothing you can do to change that. So maybe we should just learn to deal with ourselves and the people around us, and just take them at face value. Believe me, it's the only value there is to be had. We're only as deep as our ability to deceive.

Michael is no different. He knows that he's spiraling downwards into a vacuum of lazy, and he can even recognize that a change needs to be made, yet these changes will never come. Why? Well, because we're fucked as humans. We're animals and animals do what they were programmed to do. Lions are programmed (according to Walt Disney) to kill and eat Wildebeests. If you tried to ask a Lion to "change" and maybe give tofu a try...he would literally claw a gap in your windpipe. Similarly, Michael was hard wired to order pizza, play WoW and take intermittent breaks comprised of jacking off at feverish paces. I say fuck it; you're always one bad day away from shooting yourself in the face anyways. Just do what you wanna do. Don't agree to change when you know you can't and never inconvenience yourself with worrying about making someone else happy. Life is shorter than Gary Coleman's cane so just spend more of it doing all the bad shit you think other people wouldn't approve of and less of it worrying about pleasing people who are secretly doing bad shit you wouldn't approve of.

Michael, your druid is awesome and so are you, buddy.

As always, I continue to urge you to be my friend and read my blog and tell your friends that I’m fun and good for you too.

Allow Me To Introduce Myself, I Wear a Scarf For a Living

2008-05-13T08:32:00.000-07:00

Dear dear readers,

I always wondered what it would be like to call my subject "dear" in the salutation portion of a letter. I don't know, it was a let down if I can be honest, but that's what this little journey will be predicated on. I don't have fancy tools like "topics" and "references" and for the most part I won't be telling you anything you don't already know. YOU'RE A MORON. See what I did there? I'm just going to ramble mostly and leave it up to you to find the merit in it.

This blog is about taking risks and not being afraid to shit in the sink sometimes. I haven't learned much in my time being alive but I know that there's a lot of really super cool things below the surface of this planet and I hope to dig a little deeper like a first time Viagra user.

You're probably not very funny and I'm not going to hold that against you, but believe there are lots of jokes in my blog that you just don't get. Trust me they are very funny and when you show this to your art major friend who always seems to be wearing a scarf, he will surely explain everything you've missed. He'll also continue to be a massively pretentious waste of a 5 o'clock shadow clinging to a degree that only holds weight in the realm of college life and has absolutely no bearing on the outside world that us non-scarf tying individuals live in.

I try to avoid these people at all costs. I would rather be gangbanged by a group of rabid Jehovah's Witnesses than have to sit for 5 minutes and try to carry on a conversation with one of these people. However, when I do find myself trapped in an encounter with a pretentious liberal arts student, I'll rarely be listening to them. More often than not, I catch myself examining what I predict to be his inner monologue. I'm not a great guesser, but I think it may be something like this...

"Jeepers, this guy is very very interested in what I have to say. And who wouldn't be? Nietzsche is a fucking rock star. Yikes, I just keep getting better and better at regurgitating philosophical statements each time I do it. Damn, even though it is summer and it's so hot that my face is literally melting off my skull, I'm so psyched that I wore my scarf and these extra thick tweed trousers. Look at him...he keeps looking away because his soul cannot fully process the sheer fire in my eyes. I'm so deep, I'm like a well filled to the brim with wit and sexy. I actually think that my passionate insights are making this guy totally question his own sexuality. I feel chemistry between us; my dick is tingling. I'm not even gay. For realsies."

It's not that I dislike these people as much as I just want to standing side kick them in the breast plate until they die. Maybe I'm being harsh. It's a pretty sure guarantee that I'm being excessive. But I once watched a guy order a coffee with FIVE different stipulations ("not too much foam, not no foam either though. You get me right?") only to clumsily trip and spill his triple venti mochawateverthefuckchino all over his new canvas shoes. So...you tell me what's excessive.

If you never ever read this blog again, please just do me this one favour. Stop being this guy's friend. Friends are the last thing he needs.

But please consider being my friend and reading my blog on a regular basis and telling your friends that I'm fun and good for you, too...