Archive for the Fucked Up People Category

Sex, Drugs, and Sheen

Posted in Disaster, Fucked Up People with tags , , , , , , , , on March 4, 2011 by Suge White

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Can we please stop talking about Charlie Sheen?  I will admit that I do it myself but there’s no denying that it’s a worn out story.  Infatuation is down right unhealthy.  We shouldn’t spend so much otherwise liveable time hemorrhaging over the downfall of a single drug infested individual.  Charlie Sheen is hardly the first celebrity to meet the downfall of drugs.  Let us not forget Keith Richards, Bobby and Whitney, or all of those “that kid who was in all those movies”.  They are all just people… who occasionally smoke crack and fantasize about creating sex mansions.  I think that it’s time that we all start living like celebrities because, obviously, that’s what peaks the interest Americans.  We should go out, do our own drugs, fuck our own hookers, and create our own temporarily quotable moments of pure insanity.  I don’t know about you but while I may not be able to afford a suitecase filled with blow, I could probably afford to fill a camera case or a small jewelry box if I really wanted… and lets be honest, that’s still alot of blow (or so I’ve heard…. from other people).

Egypt, Don’t Worry Because I Wasn’t Planning On Going To You Anyway

Posted in Disaster, Fucked Up People with tags , , , , , , , , on February 12, 2011 by Suge White

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Egypt sure has been going crazy the past couple weeks.  They are teaching the world about some civil unrest.  Before this, I thought unrest was what happens when a person goes on a week long meth binge. Apparently, I was misinformed. Now, I think I’ve watched enough TV to realize that the Middle East is a place that no one should visit… ever. With that being said, I find it funny that so many western journalists are going over there to report on the situation, only for a crowd of rowdy mummies to beat them like adopted Russian children with behavioral problems. They come back to the states, get on the airwaves, and tell us all about their experience. Is this supposed to be news? What the hell did they think was going to happen? These people are angry and should probably be left alone. It’s like stepping into a dog fighting ring with a t-bone steak hanging off the end of your cock and expecting to walk out a fully functioning man. Its not going to happen. Don’t turn around, put yourself on TV, and act like its a surprise. You should have known what would happen and you have no one to blame but yourself for letting it happen.

Snowball Fights

Posted in Fucked Up People with tags , , , on January 12, 2011 by Suge White

When I look out the window and see 2 feet of snow, all I want to do is whip some balls at people. Granted, I may be a little old for this type of behavior but I was always encouraged to remain young at heart. It wouldn’t even be a stretch for me to jump on some old ladies back, throw her to the ground, and give her a white-wash. Hey, its all in good fun. Maybe I’ll make a really short snow man, piss all over him, and call him an Asian. Let it snow!

Take It In The Face!

Posted in Fucked Up People, Shit We Do with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 21, 2010 by Suge White

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As you may have figured out by now, much of my history is steeped in exasperated self loathing. Good old Irish Catholic.  I know right from wrong but I still do bad things and just hate myself later for it.  I’m like the guy working at a fast food joint who decides to blow a load in your food. Ok, maybe I’m nothing like that at all but I, at least, wanted to remind you that there’s a man somewhere out there just waiting to unknowingly feed you his “special sauce”. So be aware of that. Actually, it’s probably better to remain unaware. Awareness, in this situation, is downright terrifying. “My God, that looks like a mighty fine cheeseburger but I better not eat it in case Herman decided to make some love near it.” Wouldn’t we be better off not knowing?  I, for one, will not be inspecting every taco I order for signs of excessive protein. However, this also means that I’m at risk.  I’m taking my life into my own hands and possibly taking someone’s future life into my mouth just for the love of greasy and fattening mystery meats.  Do you see where I’m going here? I should inspect my food every time with the knowledge that I possess but I don’t want to take the time.  And what if I actually find some of Elmer’s glue smeared across my sandwhich?  I wouldn’t possibly be able to eat it, at which point, my idea of fast food will be ruined forever (not that the idea was too enticing in the first place).  Either way, this is where I get back to the self loathing.  I hate myself for not checking my food and I hate myself for being so afraid to destroy my mind’s view of minute foods.

Get Away From Me…. Or At Least Stop Talking

Posted in Fucked Up People, Stop with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 13, 2010 by Suge White

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Let me reiterate to you how much I hate people.  I hate people so much that if I had a choice between talking to a stranger and getting fucked by a ravenous wombat, I would seriously consider subjecting myself to any number of sexually transmitted wombat diseases just to avoid talking to the likely idiot. Seriously, how bad could love with a syphilitic wombat be? However, if I talk to the stranger, he may tell me about his mortgage, about his job, or about his mothers arthritic hip. Lets be honest. Who wants to hear about any of that shit? Sorry pal, I don’t care about your kids and since you insisted on showing me a picture of them that you have stuffed away in your wallet, it’s only fair that I tell you that your daughter looks like Andre the Giant and your son looks like Boy George. Needless to say, you should pull out next time you hop in the sack with that handsome broad you call a wife. Perhaps my words are a little crass but so is the sight of your hideous children. This brings me back to my ultimate point. Please don’t talk to me. I don’t care if you’re Jesus fucking Christ. On a side note, I would imagine that talking to Jesus would be a real downer. He’s got all sorts of uncomfortable topics to discuss. “So my mother says I am the son of God but I’m pretty sure she just doesn’t want to tell me that she fucked the whole village and my father could be anyone but is probably the papyrus salesman with bad knees and a penchant for boy love. Oh and did I mention that I was crucified?”. For the love of your supposed father, shut the fuck up!  And no, I’m not interested in putting “the body of Christ” in my mouth, you fucking creep!

Big Girls Don’t Cry But Sometimes Big Boys Do

Posted in Disaster, Fucked Up People, Hero, Shit We Do, Stop with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 16, 2010 by Suge White

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This past weekend, I watched a grown ass man officially lose his fucking mind.  I can’t call this goon out by name because it’s one thing to have his picture up on this website but it’s another thing all together to then post a ridiculously disparaging story about him that may contain some factual inaccuracies. So without any further delay, you shall witness the deconstruction of a Local Goon.
Over the previous weekend, I witnessed an event that truly turned my insides out. This event involved a 27 year old man-child, more mentally equipped to drink his beer from a sippy cup than from his own still sweaty work boot (1st shot), and a party filled with more sausage and less females than you could shake a stick at.  During a recent house party, this boy-with-lady-parts decided it was necessary to start a fight, lose the fight, throw a hissy fit, get slapped around some more, and then trash the place.  I know, nothing out of the ordinary there and I will totally neglect to mention that we were drinking a grain alcohol concoction that I suggested. The problem with this incident was that it was his own house that he shared with some other Local Goons.  He was in the process of moving out but this doesn’t excuse a God Damn thing because the others were not moving. He smashed the house’s big screen TV, broke tables, broke bottles, and broke his already broken reputation (2nd shot). This particular Goon has dressed up in women’s clothing, attempted to kiss the Big Hug (Local Goon) on several occasions, probably drank a wine cooler or two, and probably pissed all over himself after drinking those wine coolers (3rd shot). Even with this man’s entire feminine history, nobody ever thought he could act like such a bitch. With all that said, we shall still have love for this Goon. Though he has been exiled and has burned every bridge he has on his way out of town, we still love him.  We all fully assume that some day soon we will see this little red Corvette (prince reference) paddling across a raging river on an inflatable blow up doll that possibly originated from some place in Asia (because that’s his thing). He will be doing so while the flames on those bridges he burned are still red hot but I’ll be damned if we don’t pull him ashore.  He’s still a goon and, believe it or not, even a goon can be forgiven.

And while I said I wouldn’t identify this Goon, you really need to watch this YouTube clip. I just couldn’t help myself because I’m a fucking asshole.

We’ve Gone Too Far

Posted in Disaster, Fucked Up People, Great American Pastimes, Hero, Shit We Do, Stop...Look...Listen with tags , , , , , , , , on October 3, 2010 by Suge White

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What can I say? It took 27 years to realize that I’m entirely too attached to my own decadence.  After celebrating yet another lackluster year of my life in extraordinary fashion, I’ve come to the conclusion that we goons take things too far.  Here’s why.  On Wednesday, I drank a bit… On Thursday, I drank a bit more…  On Friday, I drank ALL OF IT with a Scrilla and Rocky (local Goons)… On Saturday, I woke up hungover and puked in my own car while driving on the highway to meet some friends for lunch… On Sunday, I woke up with a day 2 hangover that could only be cured with a McDonald’s breakfast sandwich, a boat load of coffee, and possibly some drugs that could be used to battle the Ebola virus.  I think its safe to say that only one day of celebratory libations was necessary.