Why Are You Lying?

Next time I hear a fat person say they are starving, I’m going to scream. I would consider myself to be large, if not fat, so I know a thing or two about excessive eating habits Have you eaten anything today? Oh, you have? Then you’re not starving, you simply crave another cheeseburger. You may be extremely hunger, and based on your physical appearance I would be willing to bet you are, but you are far from starving. Not to mention, if you were truly starving, you wouldn’t be so fucking picky. Go up to anybody in Somalia, offer up a bowl of broccoli, and watch what happens. That person will thank you to no end and If you play your cards right, you could probably get a hummer out of it, whether they be male or female. Go up to some fat guy who claims he is starving and offer him a bowl of broccoli and see what happens. I promise you he is not going to offer to blow you for that bowl of broccoli. Being fat is hard enough, don’t make it worse by being a liar. If your are really starving then you would suck a dick for some broccoli.

I’m Not Your Child

I hate talking to people with young children, especially when the children are present. These people seem to have a tough time knowing when to turn off the baby voice. Stop talking to me like that. I’m a fucking adult. This has nothing to do with children. I love children. But if your child is not part of the conversation please don’t talk like they are. Your stupid, whiny ass, baby voice hurts my ears nearly as much as it hurts my sense of pride. Last time I checked, I’m not your 5 year old son. You are fucking ‘Oohing’ and ‘Awing’ me to death. As a matter of fact, if you no longer feed on breast milk out of necessity and someone is talking to you like this, you should be able to legally punch them in the taint.

Somebody Call The Police

So, somebody decided to break into my house and steal from me today.  I wish I could have caught him in the act.  I most likely would have done 1 of 10 things.

1.  Knock him out, dress him up in a Speedo, and drop him off in front of the nearest gay bar with a “For Free” sign attached. 

2.  Tie him up and force him to watch “Last Action Heros” seven times in a row with one of those “A Clockwork Orange” rigs set up for his eyes.

3.  Waterboard him using urine I’ve produced after a dinner in which asparagus was served.

4.  Bludgeon him to death with a piece of frozen meat.  Perhaps a leg of lamb.  Or forget the frozen part all together and go with a few links of sausage.

5.  Force him to lick a 75-year-old man’s beard for 30 consecutive minutes… or for 40 non-consecutive minutes.

6.  Force feed him an entire bag of pork rinds

7.  Repeatedly cut his shins with my toe nails

8.  Sign him up for an aerobics class and make him go

9.  Let a chimp maul his testicles

10.  Buy him a David Hasselhoff album.

Hibernation Complete

I’ve been in hibernation for the past 3 weeks.  That usually happens after winning the Tournament of Champions.  I guess by winning the T. O. C. you actually lose… at life.  Well anyways, that’s right, I won.  I drank 34 beers in 24 hours.  I could have done better but I didn’t stick the game plan.  I went out there and just freelanced for 24 hours.  Somehow came out on top.  Over the past 3 weeks, I’ve bottled up many emotions.  Now those emotions are going to come spewing out.  I’m like an ejaculating penis of emotions… that kind of sounds weird but anyways, here it goes.

The first time I ever heard of the show “Locked Up Abroad”, I had a totally different vision of what that show would be like.  However, I was unbelievable disappointed to find out that abroad was 1 word in this case and not 2.  “Locked Up a Broad” would be a way better show.  (I know it’s not funny after they found that girl, who had been locked in that guys shed for 18 years, but I thought of this premise way before I saw that on the news so this is still funny to me).

Whoever directed the movie ’Congo’ should be tied down and forced to watch the movie ‘Congo’ for 12 hours straight… and then raped by a gorilla.  I will admit that my only beef with this movie, other than it’s horrendiousness, is that it was on T.V. this morning and Chris (Local Goon… and watcher of terrible movies at strange hours) was watching it with the volume turned up quite high.  I could fucking hear every word from my bedroom.  If I hear one more word about Amy the talking gorilla, I’m going to go outside and strangle something.

What the fuck is the deal with Bud Light Lime?  To all those who have had a Bud Light Lime and enjoyed it… FUCK YOU!  If you want lime in your beer, cut up a fucking  lime and put it in your beer.  I don’t know, or care, what anyone else thinks but I certainly don’t trust Budweisers lime picking abilities.  I can go to the store and pick out my own God damn limes thank you very much!  This is just another way that society is making us lazy… and trust me, I’m lazy enough.  If you’re a man and you drink Bud Light Lime, you need to start sitting down when you pee.  I’m serious.

Drinking… That’s All

The time has come.  10 A.M. tomorrow morning marks the beginning of the Tournament of Champions.  24 hours of heavy drinking and accidental fornication.  There can only be one champion, unless Sleazy E. (Local Goon)  awakes early Sunday morning and pisses on everyone because he is upset that he passed out after drinking only 6 beers.  This would certainly one-up everyone elses drinking exploits.  Now that I think of it though, it would take more than that for him to be declared a champion because  I would be willing to bet at least a half dozen participants will wake up covered in piss even without the Sleaze’s interference.  I hope I don’t wake up covered in piss, mine or anyone elses.

Stop Being Loud

I’ve officially had it with alarm clocks… and power tools… and homeless people pushing shopping carts.  I don’t like being woken up at 8:00 A.M. Saturday morning when I don’t have shit to do.  When it’s by someone else’s unnecessarily annoying alarm clock, I get pretty mad but I will tend to let it slide.  Shit, I like my roommates and I know that I’ve probably done the same to them once our twice.  It’s twice as bad when the landlord wants to trim the hedges at 7:30 before he goes to work.  Seriously, next time this happens I’m going to buy a stuffed moose head,  not clean it for a month, andthrow it out my second floor window onto the offenders head next time it happens.  My landlord is cool shit but I will not think twice about impaling him with a dusty moose head for waking me up before I’m ready.  Believe it or not, it gets worse.  Homeless people and their god damn shopping carts… and by their shopping carts I mean Price Choppers shopping carts that they stole and filled up with other peoples trash.  Seriously, I have no problem with you rummaging through my dumpster, as long as your not waking me up in the process.  I own a bed and I much enjoy sleeping in it… please don’t ruin that for me.  Just because you are jealous of my living arrangements doesn’t make it acceptable for you to be tossing bottles out of my dumpster into your stolen shopping cart so damn early in the morning.  That shit is loud as hell.  Fuck the moose head, I’m going to throw a trash bag filled with empty cans of Hawaiian Punch out the window.  The bums will get so excited, until they realize that the cans are non-redeemable.

Great Big Fail

I love hearing stories about robberies gone bad.  You know the ones I’m taking about.  The one where some young hood attempts to stick up a local convenience store, only to get rocked in the face by some old lady behind the counter and chased out of the store.  I could picture my own grandmother beasting on some intruders in such a manner.  I would imagine that she would just flick a half smoked Winston into the offenders eye and then smash a bottle of Beefeater Gin over his distracted head.  She would also probably have another cigarette lit before the punk hit the ground.  I’ve never actually seen my grandmother drink but she looks like the type that would know how to swing a bottle.  Also, I have no idea if my grandmother smokes Winstons… probably not though.  Anyways, if the cops do happen to catch the kid after he runs off crying, I think that this type of conclusion to the robbery attempt should be punishment enough.  Although, the kid should be made to spend a day on the baddest street corner in his city wearing a sandwich board sign stating on the front ’I tried to rob a corner store’… and on the back ‘But I got my ass kicked by an old lady’.  I think that this might deter them from trying anything of the sort ever again.

A Heavenly Experience

I got accosted by two nuns the other day.  By accosted, I mean that they knocked on my door and I was dumb enough to answer.  I knew they were nuns before I opened the door but for some reason I decided to open it anyway.  Bad idea.  I must have committed several unnecessary sins during this exchange.  At first, I thought that I could have a good old time messing with some nuns alongside Chris and Cait (Local Goons).  That was probably my first sin right there.  Not to mention, I soon realized that these nuns were serious.  Then again, when are nuns not serious?  I started by giving them a fake name because I saw that they intended on writing some of my information down.  After the nuns got all the fake information they needed, they went into their routine.  They explained their love of Jesus and wanted us to admit a similar love.  However, I was distracted by the fact that one of the nuns was actually quite attractive.  Alright, I’ll admit that she was only mildly attractive, at best, but she a fucking nun.  How often does the average person come in contact with a nun?  Let alone a nun with a sweet can?  So maybe I couldn’t see her can underneath that robe but I just knew that it was probably sweet.  She was 23 and looked like she enjoyed a good salad and possessed the knowledge needed to solve difficult math problems.  I thought I was dreaming… or just really fucked up.  Not long after I decided that I wasn’t hallucinating and that this nun was a good looking lady, she started talking about how she left her family to give Jesus her hand in marriage.  What the fuck?  I’m not religious but I certainly don’t feel comfortable about my adulterous thoughts toward Jesus’s wife.  That is definitely sin number two. I hope he’s not pissed at me.  Then again, I think my views about the nun could be seen as a compliment.  Not towards the nun because she clearly made terrible decisions to end up in this situation… such as getting caught tripping on LSD at a Rusted Roots concert by her parents (TRUE STORY).  No, the compliment would be for Jesus and his choice in women.  Sorry Jesus but your wife is hot and this sort of thing is gonna happen.  I really wanted this nun.  Jesus can keep the other nun that was there because she looked like a caricature of a dirty bathroom mop… not sure what that means but there is no way that it can be good.  Bottom line is, I wanted to give this attractive nun the business.  To do this, I continued to listen to their speil while looking interested.   I even let them baptize me.  I wonder if it is a sin to be baptized under an assumed name?  That would be three.  At one point, I went to take a shower while Chris and Cait carried on the conversation.  I made sure when I came out of the bathroom that they got a good look at my body, void of towel cover.  The nuns chuckled and suggested that I promptly head to church to confess.  Exposing yourself to nuns… probably another sin.  That’s four.    Anyway, in the end, they preached for about an hour, handed me a bunch of literature, and left.  I was in shock.  There I stood, with my dick in my hand lusting after some religious fanatic.   God damn you attractive nun, for convincing me to do things that I wouldn’t normally do.  I feel like  I’ve been spiritually raped.

Throwing Things

Do you hit women?  Me neither.  Unless you count this weekends incident that included a piece of wheat bread and a poorly timed turn of the head.  I swear to god this was magical.  Let me break it down.  After a night of drinking at neighborhood keg party with Cait, Chris, and the Big Hug (Local Goons), we left for the bar.  We made a quick pit stop at the Bancroft for a certain someone to get their wallet.  Cait decided that she wanted a piece of bread to settle her stomach, which was a more than acceptable idea.  However, what wasn’t acceptable was for her to decide that she was going to eat just the bread with nothing on it and that I too needed a piece of bread.  Who the fuck wants to eat bread with nothing on it?  Make me some toast and put some damn peanut butter on it or something!  The bottom line is that she was totally out of line.  After I scolded her ignorance and refused the bread, she decided to place the bread on top of my head as she walked past me.  I quickly snatched the bread off my head and gave it a good hippie style Frisbee toss towards her .  Unfortunately for her (not for me because this is the best part), she turned her head back at me.  This grain based projectile hit her directly in the eye.  While a piece of bread doesn’t sound like an ideal weapon, imagine catching one just right in the fucking eyeball.  The woman dropped nearly as quickly as a Jews jaw at the gas pump (Jews, please see disclaimer).  I couldn’t believe.  I would’ve felt terrible about the pain she was in except, not only was I not sure whether she was laughing or crying, but I was amazed by what had just transpired.  I disabled a person with a piece of bread that wasn’t even toasted.  I could understand if it was an apple, a beer bottle, or a live squirrel but a fucking piece of wheat bread.  You have got to be kidding me.  In the end, we all made it to the bar, got more drunk, and all laughed at Cait as she continued to wipe away tears from her right eye.  The next morning her eye was black and people at work were calling her Rocky.  The End 

Suge White’s Getting Soft

Suge White used to be an angry man.  I’m not sure what happened.  Lately, I’ve been engaging in friendly conversations, agreeing with strangers, and keeping my worst thoughts to myself more then ever before.  I think I’m getting soft.  I used to not care what anyone else thought… check that, I still don’t care what anyone else thinks but at least now I’m pretending I do.  I am also doing the right thing more so then ever.  I’ve actually started holding the door for others.  Another improvement is no longer attempting to make other people’s children cry, that’s a big step forward for me.  When I’m driving my car, I actually stop at cross walks and politely wave old women across… however, I will rev the engine as they cross the road to let them know that I’m still there.  I’ve also started to receive invitations to other peoples gatherings. I went to a Big Zach’s (Local Goon) wedding this past weekend and I actually wore a suit.  Old Suge would have just worn a diaper and a pair of fluorescent aqua socks.  I finally realized that doing such things would just not be acceptable.  What has changed?  Why do I now care?  I think all the THC that I used to pump into my system has finally wore off.  I no longer sit around thinking of things to hate.  Don’t get me wrong, I still possess hatred for things, and people, that most others would never dream of hating… like gargoyles, the word extemporaneous, the predeceased Dom Deluise (even I won’t hate on the dead),  and large bags of Cheetos (O.K., I lied.  I love Cheetos).  However, my hatred is more controlled now, that’s all.