Saturday, January 31, 2009

Limited Time Offer

Big news, people! For a limited time only, I'm offering you...


Drum roll... 86x - 670 - 6800

To keep things interesting, I've deleted the last number of his area code (Hint: It's less than 1). Chris just loves getting phone calls around 3AM from drunken strangers, so this just seems like the right thing to do. So feel free to give Chris a call and discuss softball, baseball, the size and possible taste of Josh Beckett's penis, and Dave Janowski's closet Judaism. I promise good times will be had by all!

Adios Amigo!

I swear to all things holy: if those cunts at McDonald's manage to fuck up another one of my orders, I'm calling INS.

Yep. That's it.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Foxy News

Holy fuck, there’s a bunch of sexy correspondents on Fox News: Megyn Kelly, Martha MacCallum, Julie Banderas, Kimberly Guilfoyle, Jill Dobson, Rebecca Gomez - does it ever stop? No, none of them compare to Jackie Guerrido, but it’s unfair when her proportions border on cartoonish. Jackie makes Jessica Rabbit look like a transsexual.

Pictured clockwise from top left: Cowgirl, Doggy Style, Reverse Cowgirl, Missionary With My
Boxers On, Rebecca Gomez, and Around The World Wheel Barrow With An Angry Pirate Finish.

Regardless, these broads on Fox News are damn appealing in all their pants-suited glory. Oh sure, they’re all uptight, conservative, and pious Republicans who probably avoid butt sex at all costs, but I think I just might be the one to unleash the primitive sex maniac lying deep within each one. Anal, as everyone knows, just takes a little convincing is all. "Don’t worry, baby. Remember when Bush got reelected? Yeah, it’ll feel just like that..."

Sorry, Greta, you didn't make the cut.

Best Music Video EVER

I realize that I've been posting a lot of videos and pictures and such, but I have a perfectly legitimate reason: it allows me to avoid writing anything with substance. So without further adieu, the greatest music video ever made...

As unbelievably magnificient and awesome and cool and wonderful and awe-inspiring this video is, I do have a few questions:

1) Where in the fuck are Sammy Hagar’s shoes?

2) During the video shoot, who was lucky enough to operate the fan responsible for blowing Sammy’s hair ever so gently?

3) At 1:35, does he really kick at the camera while riding his motorcyle? What a fucking badass.

4) Why is his guitar redder than my dick after I watch Mean Girls on TBS?

5) Is it just me or does Hagar seem way too confident walking up to the arm-wrestling table? C’mon man, you’re about to take on Lincoln Hawk. Don’t be a cocky prick about it. Do you know how bad he needs that truck?

(I also type things in list form to avoid substance.)

Growing Up

I'm only a few months shy of 25 as I write this and I thought it might be a good time for some personal reflection. It's amazing how fast life goes by.

It's been a long and crazy road getting to where I am right now, but at this point in my life, I feel comfortable sharing with all of you two incredibly signifcant changes I've made in my life recently...

1) Just last year, I began crossing my sevens because they look too much like ones.

2) I finally started wiping my ass front to back.

Wow. That felt good. Very introspective.

Links On The Left, Part 1

This is a brief segment I've been wanting to do regarding the links I've posted - holy shit - on the left. I figure it might be nice to give you a brief summation of what each is about, lest you think I'm navigating you straight into Brazilian fart porn (yes, it really exists).

We'll start from the top...

Michael Kelly's Page of Misery

A British writer, Michael Kelly hasn't experienced much overall success other than the traffic to his website and a couple of books those assholes in the publishing industry finally recognized as gold. I've read almost everything he's written and he's a big reason I continue writing to this day, much to the chagrin of whoever reads Kellie Pickler's fan mail. His prose, topics, and self-deprecating style are good at make me laugh much. Do you see how reading improves one's own writing?

Selections I recommend:
A Bad Kid
Dear Clarissa
How To Be Calm
Test Your Lateral Thinking
Journal of Distration

It took a lot of self-control to not name more than that. Oh yeah, there will probably be some British slang you won't recognize here and there, but you'll get used to it. If not, watch a Guy Ritchie movie or something. Jesus, I can't do everything for you.

So fuck off and read his shit already...

Labels: ,

Friday, January 23, 2009

A Very Special Episode

My fellow Americans,

We have officially begun a new age in this great country. Earlier this week, Barack Obama was officially sworn in as the 44th President of the United States of America. The first time in the history of this already richly historic nation that an African American has been elected to the Executive Office. The first time in nearly a decade that the Democratic Party has had control of the White House and both houses of Congress.

As a nation, we most certainly stand at a crossroads. Some await with unbridled enthusiam, others with tentative trepidation. While still thrust in a foreign conflict in Iraq and our economy faltering further and further each day, we must hold steady and embrace the days to come with a newfound attitude of hopefulness. We mustn't succumb to the ill-fated hands of desperation, but rather strive on with the same hard-nosed American spirit that has made this country into the great nation it is today.

Yes, a new era is upon us. It was clearly evidenced just earlier this very week when over one million faithful citizens flooded President Obama's Inauguration Ceremony with a surge of sanguine joy. Yes, he said America was ready for change. And change it will.

While the tides of change shift with such epic and monumental force, we as proud citizens of this beautiful country, only have one question that we all must ask ourselves:

How did Blossom only last five seasons?!

Wednesday, January 21, 2009


I don't know what it is, but I have a strong suspicion that the lead singer of the Pussycat Dolls wants to have sexual intercourse with me.

Call it a hunch.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Can't Resist

Sweet Jesus. I was just looking over this blog and Kellie Pickler is as beautiful as my prose is handsome. If anyone knows Kellie personally, please tell her I said that because it's pretty much the greatest compliment ever.

And since Blogger is working right now, I might as well take advantage and just post more pictures of her.

Everyday I try to find flaws with this chick and I just can't do it. She can sing, she's cute, she has a Southern accent, she's hot, and she thought Europe was a country*. What more could a guy ask for? If she likes Taco Bell, I'll quit my job and move to North Carolina to seek her hand in marriage. Or, failing that, sex.

* That little fuck Nathan better get his hands off my Southern belle!

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Ten Valuable Lessons

Blogger was being a fucking cunt. At one point, I couldn't even save drafts. Ridiculous. Maybe it was my lame-ass work computer. Someone was fucking me over. WebSense, Javascript, Internet Explorer, Blogger, Mark Steven Johnson – they’re all to blame. Seriously though, check out Johnson’s track record. With the exception of the two Grumpy Old Men movies, his work is fucking trash. I might devote an entire post to destroying all of his screenplays, that hack-fuck shithead.

Regardless, I’ve been following this entire Oscar Grant BART shooting case for the past few days and I find it quite intriguing. Really, it’s quite amazing how YouTube and digital media have seemingly revolutionized the way information is conveyed and received. Here's the video...

This entire case, while absurdly tragic, has taught me ten very important things:

1) Black people are still great police-brutality-videographers.

2) BART transit police officers probably watch too much of The Shield.
3) Don't ever get shot.

4) I should ride the DC Metro more.

5) If you can’t be safe riding an electrified rail-car train in an extremely dangerous city, where can you be safe?

6) I should ride the DC Metro less.

7) For a brief moment, Officer Johannes Mehserle probably thought he was Jack Bauer.

8) Now, I definitely never want to visit Oakland. Originally, it was because I’m racist, but now it’s because I don’t want a police officer to shoot me in the back while I’m laying face down on a train platform. That would just ruin my vacation.

9) Rioting is always a viable outlet for one’s rage and never makes a difference.

10) It’s unbelievable, but still, even after all these years and all of the countless problems, white cops still love shooting black people.

Now... what did you learn from all of this?

Nothing? Thought so.

Move South, Get A Talent

I'm not going to say that I'm a man of the people because it's hard to be so when you live high on a hill in a mansion covered in rose bushes, gold leaf, and diamond-encrusted Skittles. Delicious and expensive. Still, I understand a few things about people. I understand that people don't like being photographed while pooping. I understand that the average person doesn't want to be hit by a car, especially one driven by this guy. And thanks to an unfortunate incident in college that I'd rather not discuss, I understand why women aren't terribly fond of anal. But there is one thing I do not understand one bit.

These people:
Look, it's about 28 degrees here in DC right now and I still see people sleeping in the street. No, I'm not upset that people are homeless. That I totally understand. But why, in the sweet name of fuck, would you be sleeping in the street in 28 degree weather? How do cities like New York and DC even have homeless people? If I were homeless (which again, will never happen because I live in a castle with indentured servants and maids and shit), I would be migrating towards Hell - which probably isn't that far away when you're homeless. I guess expensive cities like New York and DC means they can pull in more money, but I'd still give Miami or Atlanta a shot. Perhaps the homeless should organize some sort of exodus a la Andrew Jackson's Trail of Tears. Granted, that didn't work out so well for the Cherokee, but at least I'm thinking of something.

Another thing about the homeless that vexes me is the signs and cups and the incessant desire for my money. Yes, times are hard, economic hardship, blah blah, boo capitalism you big babies. Regardless, if you're going to be homeless, crafting a sign out of cardboard and standing in the same spot all day every day is not effective. It's just sad and pathetic. Sad and pathetic just isn't enough for charity anymore. Pity is SO last year. Impress me, damn it. You want the 63 cents in my pocket? You gotta earn it, buddy!

You've clearly got all goddamn day - why don't you develop a fucking skill? Learn to drum on buckets. Learn to do a backflip. Learn to sing. Learn to dance. Learn to beatbox. Fuck, learn something. Sitting around on the street like a fucking mope is no good. I guess nobody wants to work for it anymore. Ya know, people condemned Bum Fights for being immoral and wrong, but at least it got them learning how to throw a crisp jap.

This guy earned his 63 cents.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Forget It...

Okay, I just had this big post I was working on, berating New Year's Eve and all you fuckers out getting drunk while I sit here at work. I was going to rip on Seacrest, Fergie, and even Dick Clark for having a stroke and talking funny.

Then I was going to complain about the Jonas Brothers being the last musical act before 2009 and how that pretty much meant that the second the ball drops, the ground will open, the fiery pits of hell will come up to engulf us all in a blazing fury of anger, pestilence, famine, and death. Satan will wrap his serpeant's grip around our unsuspecting, pathetic souls and drain any semblance of innocence and good will we ever knew. Buildings will crumble, mountains will turn to ash, the oceans will become vast deserts of dry nothingness. The last image imprinted in anyone's mind will be Dick Clark on his knees, hands intertwined, pleading to the heavens that God save us all and end the destruction and suffering. Except Dick's stuttering pleas will be met by only silence, as he and everyone else realizes there is no God. There is no all-seeing, all-knowing celestial essence watching over the world. There is no higher being that can thwart the oncoming apocalypse that we have shamelessly brought upon ourselves. All hope is lost. Say your final prayers, your last will and testament, and hold your loved ones close because this may very well be the end for us all...

Then I saw Kellie Pickler talking to people in Times Square...

...and I believe in God again. Hallelujah. All is right in the world.

NOTE: This was really just an elaborate way to let people know how much I hate the Jonas Brothers and how much I love Kellie Pickler.

ADDITIONAL NOTE: Seriously, the Jonas Brothers are fucking terrible.

ADDITIONAL ADDITIONAL NOTE: I mean, seriously, how many of our nation's finest jacked it after this performance?

I'm sitting at work right now and I'm seriously considering it.