Shaq shits on Kobe and wants to know the flavor of his giant behind.
I love Shaq.
By the way I liked Kobe alot more when he was a suspected rapist, not the face of the NBA. He is too "plastic" now.
But Shaq, is the 'ish
I also found this video and this made me laugh out loud.
It's understated and calming.
A Philly comic kicks it -A Capella - for the ladies.
Johnny Mac's Veep
Johnny Mac has a big decision to make; really big since he is down double digits to Obama in the polls.
WHO WILL BE THE VEEP?
I am sure Johnny Mac is very capable of choosing a number 2, but I have a couple cents that I am donating to his search, free of charge.
So onto my analysis of the possible Veeps and my choice for Johnny Mac's Veep:
Tim Pawlenty
He has an approval rating of 70% in Minnesota. But Minnesota also elected Jesse "The Body" Ventura as Gov. prior to Tiny Tim, so what the fuck do they know. Tim looks like he has a stamp collection, so he has about a 10% chance to become VEEP; sorry Timmy.Charlie Crist
I actually like Crist, even though he has a God complex due to his last name almost being Christ. This guy lives in Miami and could have half a dozen hot Cuban mistresses if he wants. I doubt Johnny Mac wants an old due so much cooler than he is. He has a 25% chance of being named VEEP; for Crist's sake.
Bobby Jindal
Bobby is the hot candidate as of late. I sure am glad he escaped from Guantanamo Bay with Harold. If he joins McCain's ticket, will Johnny Quest come along too. There is a 20% of Jindal becoming the Veep because Dell would have to hire a new tech. support guy. In all seriousness though, Johnny Mac is twice this guy's age. Johnny Mac's pair of adult diapers have seniority over Jindal. Don't you think Johnny Mac would get annoyed every time Air Force One would have to perform a security strip search on Jindal; I do.
Condoleeza Rice
Black, Check. Woman, Check. Face like horse that was run over by a tank, Check. Rice is smart and an evil genius, so I'll give her 35% chance of being named the Veep. I think the Mac man would always assume someone is bringing him dinner when her name is announced. 
Johnny Mac and Mitt hate each other, which would probably make for a great partnership. They could be our generation's Odd Couple. They could be the new Crockett and Tubbs. They could be the new Tango and Nash. I give Romney a 60% chance of being named Veep. I deducted points because he is a little too good looking for a Republican Governor.
Mike Huckabee
I fuckin hate this guy. Look at his squirrel face. By the way he ate squirrels as a child. Sick bastard. The religious right does like this guy alot, so I am going with 55% chance of Veep possibility. The guy moved his family into a mobile home while his Governor's Mansion was being remodeled. You can take the man out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the man. He also doesn't believe in evolution; yikes. He is a dumb country bumpkin.
I actually like Crist, even though he has a God complex due to his last name almost being Christ. This guy lives in Miami and could have half a dozen hot Cuban mistresses if he wants. I doubt Johnny Mac wants an old due so much cooler than he is. He has a 25% chance of being named VEEP; for Crist's sake.Bobby Jindal
Bobby is the hot candidate as of late. I sure am glad he escaped from Guantanamo Bay with Harold. If he joins McCain's ticket, will Johnny Quest come along too. There is a 20% of Jindal becoming the Veep because Dell would have to hire a new tech. support guy. In all seriousness though, Johnny Mac is twice this guy's age. Johnny Mac's pair of adult diapers have seniority over Jindal. Don't you think Johnny Mac would get annoyed every time Air Force One would have to perform a security strip search on Jindal; I do.Condoleeza Rice
Black, Check. Woman, Check. Face like horse that was run over by a tank, Check. Rice is smart and an evil genius, so I'll give her 35% chance of being named the Veep. I think the Mac man would always assume someone is bringing him dinner when her name is announced.Mitt Romney
Johnny Mac and Mitt hate each other, which would probably make for a great partnership. They could be our generation's Odd Couple. They could be the new Crockett and Tubbs. They could be the new Tango and Nash. I give Romney a 60% chance of being named Veep. I deducted points because he is a little too good looking for a Republican Governor. Mike Huckabee
I fuckin hate this guy. Look at his squirrel face. By the way he ate squirrels as a child. Sick bastard. The religious right does like this guy alot, so I am going with 55% chance of Veep possibility. The guy moved his family into a mobile home while his Governor's Mansion was being remodeled. You can take the man out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the man. He also doesn't believe in evolution; yikes. He is a dumb country bumpkin.MY CHOICE
GEORGE BUSH
He is allowed to become a Veep even though he in the incumbent president. Johnny Mac could ask Bush's opinion on topics and do the exact opposite. But as a writer that loves to try his hand at comedy, Bush creates some of the best fodder. What better way to have Bush sans the power than to have him serve as Veep. So here's to McCain-Bush in '08.
New Stoner Song
I love this song- why? Because it not only gets me in the mood to smoke pot, but it also enhances my buzz.
If I was a tampon Flobots would be blood, because I absorb their music 100%. No leaks.
Peace out.
If I was a tampon Flobots would be blood, because I absorb their music 100%. No leaks.
Peace out.
Drive by Relationship
Fun Game Alert- Drive on the expressway with your knees while rolling a joint on the back of you blackberry; and try not to die, cause that's what I can do. Bitches
Alright, peep this. I was wooed, dated, and then dumped during that same ride home. As I completed rolling that joint I laid it in the passenger seat and buckled it in until I could find my lighter; safety first. I pulled off of the expressway and DA-DA, I saw her. She was a brunette with blue eyes that caused a deep languor to set into my knees. But what the fuck was I to do, I was driving and as a driver I had to remain as laconic as possible, so I continued looking for my lighter and drove.
We hit the same light. I looked to my right and she smiled and waved at me. I waved back, and I couldn't wipe the cheesy ass 3rd grade grin off of my face.
We hit the next light. I threw my hands up incredulously, she smile and mouthed follow me.
Oh yes.
I got behind her, with the hopes of getting inside her. There was a Rite Aid up ahead and she put her blinker on. I threw that little annoying green arrow on as well. She pulled into the parking lot slowly, and as she did all I could think about was "Should I run into Rite Aid and pick up some condoms now, or would that be too presumptuous...maybe she will let me hit it bareback."
And then she took off. Gone is less than 60 seconds.
I was crushed. I was dumped by a woman I never dated.
It hurt.
What a bitch, why would she run me through the gamut of emotions. One caveat here, if she were to come back all would be forgiven, but she never did.
Lucky for me my joint got my spirits back up.
Alright, peep this. I was wooed, dated, and then dumped during that same ride home. As I completed rolling that joint I laid it in the passenger seat and buckled it in until I could find my lighter; safety first. I pulled off of the expressway and DA-DA, I saw her. She was a brunette with blue eyes that caused a deep languor to set into my knees. But what the fuck was I to do, I was driving and as a driver I had to remain as laconic as possible, so I continued looking for my lighter and drove.
We hit the same light. I looked to my right and she smiled and waved at me. I waved back, and I couldn't wipe the cheesy ass 3rd grade grin off of my face.
We hit the next light. I threw my hands up incredulously, she smile and mouthed follow me.
Oh yes.
I got behind her, with the hopes of getting inside her. There was a Rite Aid up ahead and she put her blinker on. I threw that little annoying green arrow on as well. She pulled into the parking lot slowly, and as she did all I could think about was "Should I run into Rite Aid and pick up some condoms now, or would that be too presumptuous...maybe she will let me hit it bareback."
And then she took off. Gone is less than 60 seconds.
I was crushed. I was dumped by a woman I never dated.
It hurt.
What a bitch, why would she run me through the gamut of emotions. One caveat here, if she were to come back all would be forgiven, but she never did.
Lucky for me my joint got my spirits back up.
Drunk Driver
Scene: A cookout. My friend Shredder's place.
Side Note: I realize that many of my tales begin with "I was at this cook out," which may illicit images of rap videos and volley ball matches, but that is not the case. My friend has an unreal house on the lake with a barbecue pit that causes salivation on sight. But there is definitely hip hop serving as background music.
ANYWAYS
There were vodka martinis aplenty and bikini clad women...so heaven was not too far away. My sobriety had passed me by hours ago, so I kept on drinking until I had to puke.
Instead of actually throwing up I just grabbed some food and stuffed my face.
I was so drunk that I neglected hitting on the ladies just to sing Bon Jovi with my friends and tell them how much I loved them.
Singing "Livin On A Prayer" and "You Give Love a Bad Name" while wasted is one of the most enjoyable activities known to man.
HERE"S WHEN IT GETS INTERESTING
I had my car keys on me, but I honestly never intended to drive; seriously. I walked around to the side of the house to relieve my bladder from the growing pressure caused by the excess alcohol resting within it.
As I was peeing I dropped my cigarette and knelt down to pick it up, but forgot that I was still peeing and my urine went rogue for a moment.
I noticed that some of the party goers were laughing at me, so I decided to "get funnier." I walked to my car, sat inside it, and turned it on. I waited for someone to notice and nada. I threw the car in drive and inched it forward about 10 yards, and still nobody noticed.
All of a sudden I realized that drunk driving isn't so tough. I just drove a perfect 10 yards, without an incident. I lived literally 2 miles away, so I threw caution to the wind and drove home.
Even though I avoid drunk driving at all costs, I have to admit I am very good at it.
But I had a slip up on this day. I accidentally drove right past the entrance to my subdivision and decided to throw the car in reverse on this main road. I also accidentally drove my car up onto the curb while in reverse. Not good times.
I made it home with nothing but guilt on my conscience and dirt on my vehicle.
I may need help at some point.
Side Note: I realize that many of my tales begin with "I was at this cook out," which may illicit images of rap videos and volley ball matches, but that is not the case. My friend has an unreal house on the lake with a barbecue pit that causes salivation on sight. But there is definitely hip hop serving as background music.
ANYWAYS
There were vodka martinis aplenty and bikini clad women...so heaven was not too far away. My sobriety had passed me by hours ago, so I kept on drinking until I had to puke.
Instead of actually throwing up I just grabbed some food and stuffed my face.
I was so drunk that I neglected hitting on the ladies just to sing Bon Jovi with my friends and tell them how much I loved them.
Singing "Livin On A Prayer" and "You Give Love a Bad Name" while wasted is one of the most enjoyable activities known to man.
HERE"S WHEN IT GETS INTERESTING
I had my car keys on me, but I honestly never intended to drive; seriously. I walked around to the side of the house to relieve my bladder from the growing pressure caused by the excess alcohol resting within it.
As I was peeing I dropped my cigarette and knelt down to pick it up, but forgot that I was still peeing and my urine went rogue for a moment.
I noticed that some of the party goers were laughing at me, so I decided to "get funnier." I walked to my car, sat inside it, and turned it on. I waited for someone to notice and nada. I threw the car in drive and inched it forward about 10 yards, and still nobody noticed.
All of a sudden I realized that drunk driving isn't so tough. I just drove a perfect 10 yards, without an incident. I lived literally 2 miles away, so I threw caution to the wind and drove home.
Even though I avoid drunk driving at all costs, I have to admit I am very good at it.
But I had a slip up on this day. I accidentally drove right past the entrance to my subdivision and decided to throw the car in reverse on this main road. I also accidentally drove my car up onto the curb while in reverse. Not good times.
I made it home with nothing but guilt on my conscience and dirt on my vehicle.
I may need help at some point.
American Graffiti
Romero Luvs Halley
Bad Ass Chicka hearts Q-Tip ...
Amy loves Adam
Rob sucks cock
Melanie will suck your dick call 4238944
I' ve been taking a couple of new routes during my jogging excursions. I have been running beneath a viaduct and couldn't help but to notice some of the above proclamations that adorned the cement walls serving as notebook pages for our town criers.
I wonder how everlasting some of these relationships were. I wonder if Melony actually sucks dick. I wonder why she hasn't returned my phone calls. I wish scientist would could studying mice in mazes and study the effects of graffiti on the male female dynamic.
This post sounded way funnier in my head.
Bad Ass Chicka hearts Q-Tip ...
Amy loves Adam
Rob sucks cock
Melanie will suck your dick call 4238944
I' ve been taking a couple of new routes during my jogging excursions. I have been running beneath a viaduct and couldn't help but to notice some of the above proclamations that adorned the cement walls serving as notebook pages for our town criers.
I wonder how everlasting some of these relationships were. I wonder if Melony actually sucks dick. I wonder why she hasn't returned my phone calls. I wish scientist would could studying mice in mazes and study the effects of graffiti on the male female dynamic.
This post sounded way funnier in my head.
Sham-Wow
I am addicted to the Sham-Wow guy. This one minute infomercial not only educates but it leaves my laughing my ass off. The spokesman- Vince- is the new Ron Popeil.
Ron and I had a very close relationship while I was in college. When my roommates and I would get home from the bar we would get stoned and turn on the television. DA-DA; here's Ron telling us about a food dehydrator, or spray on hair, or- and this is the best- the Ron Popeil Rotisserie. We were stoned and Ron was showing us images of the most gloriously succulent chicken I had ever seen. It almost left me feeling guilty about plowing throw the bag of Combos that rested on my lap.
Even though I live alone now and can't really afford to get high as often as I did...I plow through those reservations and get high anyway. For some reason info-mercials speak loudest to pot-heads, and woman that own a large amount of felines.
Vince from Sham-Wow is my new stoner buddy. When he praises the German's for their ingenuity I lose it. He is Fred Astaire to the Sham-Wow's Ginger Rogers in their magical dance. When his accent that screams of the Southey projects in Boston gets thickah I picture him in a bar with Sully arguing over the virtues of Sham-Wow.
Sully: Sham-Wow ain't shit, Bounty is the truth
Sham-Wow Guy: The thickah quickah pickah uppah has got squat on my impervious sham-wow. How do yah like dem apples. Now shut up the Saux are on, Baaaastan.
If I were ever to go to rehab I would definitely need to take Vince and his Sham-Wow commercial with me.
Ron and I had a very close relationship while I was in college. When my roommates and I would get home from the bar we would get stoned and turn on the television. DA-DA; here's Ron telling us about a food dehydrator, or spray on hair, or- and this is the best- the Ron Popeil Rotisserie. We were stoned and Ron was showing us images of the most gloriously succulent chicken I had ever seen. It almost left me feeling guilty about plowing throw the bag of Combos that rested on my lap.
Even though I live alone now and can't really afford to get high as often as I did...I plow through those reservations and get high anyway. For some reason info-mercials speak loudest to pot-heads, and woman that own a large amount of felines.
Vince from Sham-Wow is my new stoner buddy. When he praises the German's for their ingenuity I lose it. He is Fred Astaire to the Sham-Wow's Ginger Rogers in their magical dance. When his accent that screams of the Southey projects in Boston gets thickah I picture him in a bar with Sully arguing over the virtues of Sham-Wow.
Sully: Sham-Wow ain't shit, Bounty is the truth
Sham-Wow Guy: The thickah quickah pickah uppah has got squat on my impervious sham-wow. How do yah like dem apples. Now shut up the Saux are on, Baaaastan.
If I were ever to go to rehab I would definitely need to take Vince and his Sham-Wow commercial with me.
Snoop VS Janet
When I was in elementary school I received a CD walk man as a gift and couldn't wait to make the trek out to Best Buy and make a best buy. I chose Snoop Dog's first album- Doggy Style- to be my first album.
For three days I memorized the raps and bobbed my head with every syncopated beat that flowed through the earphones that were too large for my head.
And then it happened. I lost my beats. The place I was staying at the time was pretty conservative and the CD's content came to light and I lost it, because they lost it.
They took it away and I cried, like a bitch. They must have felt bad for me because they exchanged the CD for another hot album- Janet Jackson's- Janet.
I wasn't happy about it but I needed to put my CD player to good use until I became adult enough to buy my own music. So I memorized all the words to her songs and I bobbed my head to the beat.
Now that I'm a tad bit older I feel that that CD exchange may have changed my life.
If I had continued to listen to Snoop instead of Janet I may have become a rap battle superstar.
If I had continued to listen to Snoop instead of Janet I may not be afraid of getting into a fight now.
If I had continued to listen to Snoop instead of Janet I may be able to do one armed push-ups instead of girl push-ups.
If I had continued to listen to Snoop instead of Janet I may not dress in flat front chinos and wear Dickies instead.
If I had continued to listen to Snoop instead of Janet I may wear Chuck Taylor's to work in lieu of the Kenneth Cole's that now adorn my feet.
Who knows what would have become of me. This debate may shape the rest of my days, Snoop vs Janet.
Well I have to go get a manicure....I am sure I would not be doing this if I continued with Snoop.
For three days I memorized the raps and bobbed my head with every syncopated beat that flowed through the earphones that were too large for my head.
And then it happened. I lost my beats. The place I was staying at the time was pretty conservative and the CD's content came to light and I lost it, because they lost it.
They took it away and I cried, like a bitch. They must have felt bad for me because they exchanged the CD for another hot album- Janet Jackson's- Janet.
I wasn't happy about it but I needed to put my CD player to good use until I became adult enough to buy my own music. So I memorized all the words to her songs and I bobbed my head to the beat.
Now that I'm a tad bit older I feel that that CD exchange may have changed my life.
If I had continued to listen to Snoop instead of Janet I may have become a rap battle superstar.
If I had continued to listen to Snoop instead of Janet I may not be afraid of getting into a fight now.
If I had continued to listen to Snoop instead of Janet I may be able to do one armed push-ups instead of girl push-ups.
If I had continued to listen to Snoop instead of Janet I may not dress in flat front chinos and wear Dickies instead.
If I had continued to listen to Snoop instead of Janet I may wear Chuck Taylor's to work in lieu of the Kenneth Cole's that now adorn my feet.
Who knows what would have become of me. This debate may shape the rest of my days, Snoop vs Janet.
Well I have to go get a manicure....I am sure I would not be doing this if I continued with Snoop.
Smoking BAN-dits
I started smoking cigarettes at the age of 19. I am not addicted. I just think I look bad ass smoking. Seriously, I picked up the hobby because it makes me feel cool, and anyone that claims smoking isn't cool is a liar, or a cancer survivor; whatever.
I also find it sexy when women smoke- there I said it. But there is a new found benefit to smoking since it has been banned inside almost every bar in almost every major city.It helps me with the ladies.I was and still am anti smoking bans. Smoking and booze are tied together like tampons and string. If you hate smoke don't work in a bar, but I digress.
The only positive aspect of the indoor smoking ban is that the smokers congregate outside of the bar, sans the heavy music and cock blocks. It's nothing but small groups of people with similar interests and a built in conversation starter:
"I hate this smoking ban."
"So do I"
Even if I weren't a smoker I would pick it up just to gain a meaningful excursion from the hot and crowded bar with the permanently wet floor. Even if I weren't a smoker I would pick it up as an easy in with hot chicks that smoke. Even if I weren't a smoker I would pick it up just so I could post myself against the wall of the bar and strike my best James Dean profile with the hopes that it will attract a woman looking for conversation, sex, or at least a light.
One For the Gays
Phyllis Lyon, right, kisses Del Martin after being married by Mayor Gavin Newsom in San Francisco on Monday. Take that John McCain!!! Congrats to all the gays out there, even the elder octogenarian lesbians.
Side Note: This may be the only time I have seen two women kiss and not immediately wanted to jump in. At least not immediately............kidding
Masturbation Motivator of the Day
Since this past weekend introduced my desires to images of red headed woman I decided to dedicate a post to one of my favorites. You're welcome. I would type her name but I have to begin foreplay........with myself.
Frickin' Ticket
I was at a U.S. National park and I was camping, drinking, and fishing (which I suck at), with some friends. I was in a canoe with Freckles and a fishing pole in my hands. I was fishing for some love making opportunities more so than for fish.
By the way Freckles is a red head that magically appeared at our camp site. She is not a regular red head, she is actually hot. As I leaned back in the canoe to make sure Freckles had a good view of the abs I forgot that the fishing pole was in my hands. Then the DNR showed up.
"Can I see your fishing licence sir"
What the fuck, I'm not fishing for fish copper, I fishing for woman. I just brought the pole to ease Freckles' nerves about getting into a canoe with a man she barley knows.
Then the Department of Natural Resources officer wrote me a ticket, a ticket for "fishing" in a national park.
DNR
Damn
Near
Russia
What's next? Will I have to purchase a licence to kiss an American girl? This blows.
I tried to explain to the officer that I wasn't really fishing, I was trying to wet some loins, if you know what I mean.
He didn't.
I was too angry to continue flirting with Freckles.
Fuck the police, especially the nature police.
There has to be a country band that has recorded and NWA style fuck the police referencing the DNR. I must find that song.
By the way Freckles is a red head that magically appeared at our camp site. She is not a regular red head, she is actually hot. As I leaned back in the canoe to make sure Freckles had a good view of the abs I forgot that the fishing pole was in my hands. Then the DNR showed up.
"Can I see your fishing licence sir"
What the fuck, I'm not fishing for fish copper, I fishing for woman. I just brought the pole to ease Freckles' nerves about getting into a canoe with a man she barley knows.
Then the Department of Natural Resources officer wrote me a ticket, a ticket for "fishing" in a national park.
DNR
Damn
Near
Russia
What's next? Will I have to purchase a licence to kiss an American girl? This blows.
I tried to explain to the officer that I wasn't really fishing, I was trying to wet some loins, if you know what I mean.
He didn't.
I was too angry to continue flirting with Freckles.
Fuck the police, especially the nature police.
There has to be a country band that has recorded and NWA style fuck the police referencing the DNR. I must find that song.
Hot Tub
It's 7 a.m. and the delivery men just showed up with my hot tub. I am now one step closer to my dream of a grotto realized. This hot tub will increase my sexual intercourse intake at least 50%; at least that's what the sales person said.
The woman that sold me the tub, may as well not have been wearing a top. I could tell, without much eye strain, that she had lovely areolas. I could also tell that she was going to get me to purchase as many unnecessary amenities as humanly possible.
I am positive that the less clothes a sales woman is wearing, the more money I will spend.
During the purchase I needed a way to come on to this woman without using lines I'm sure she has heard a million times; like:
"You should come over and try this hot tub out."
or
"Are you doing the delivery"
or
"Nice shoes, wanna fuck."
So, I finally went with,
"Uhhh....ummmmm, boy it sure is hot out there."
Seriously, what a complete dolt. I felt like my tongue was fighting the inside of my mouth.
So I signed the contract and all the necessary paperwork and as I left the store I looked at the receipt and DA-DA. There was phone number with a name, and a note saying call me if you have any problems or questions.
Just as soon as I can come up with a clever question that will ensure some playful banter between my hot tub crush and myself I will definitely ring her up.
Unless I'm too busy with all the new poon my hot tub will garner.
The woman that sold me the tub, may as well not have been wearing a top. I could tell, without much eye strain, that she had lovely areolas. I could also tell that she was going to get me to purchase as many unnecessary amenities as humanly possible.
I am positive that the less clothes a sales woman is wearing, the more money I will spend.
During the purchase I needed a way to come on to this woman without using lines I'm sure she has heard a million times; like:
"You should come over and try this hot tub out."
or
"Are you doing the delivery"
or
"Nice shoes, wanna fuck."
So, I finally went with,
"Uhhh....ummmmm, boy it sure is hot out there."
Seriously, what a complete dolt. I felt like my tongue was fighting the inside of my mouth.
So I signed the contract and all the necessary paperwork and as I left the store I looked at the receipt and DA-DA. There was phone number with a name, and a note saying call me if you have any problems or questions.
Just as soon as I can come up with a clever question that will ensure some playful banter between my hot tub crush and myself I will definitely ring her up.
Unless I'm too busy with all the new poon my hot tub will garner.
The Greatest Story of All Time...Seriously
I am going to tell you about my Saturday night. I am going to Tarantino this shit by starting out with the scene Sunday morning and then give the big reveal. Ouch, fuck, shit....sorry, I just dropped my joint directly onto my thigh. It burned a little since I am typing in my birthday suit.
Side Note: If you're ever going to sustain a minor injury- like a burnt thigh- doing it while high is the best plan of attack. It doesn't really hurt, and it's a tad bit funny.
Ok, now back to Sunday morning. I woke up in a bed that was not mine, in a house that was unfamiliar, and with a used condom on. I don't remember having sex, and I definitely don't know who the girl was. I am amazed that I had the where with all to make sure I threw a jimmy on. I mean, what kind of parent wouldn't want their daughter to hook up with me; even hammered beyond recognition I still chose safe sex, even if it doesn't feel as good.
I stood up and stretched my hungover bones. I looked through the window to the world outside and noticed a dented black truck laying on its side at the bottom of the very long and steep hill this home was set on. Oh fuck, that truck looks just like My Cool Ass Black Friend's truck. I adjusted my view so I could see the licence plate number, and it was his. The vanity plates were intact and definitely read "Cool Ass Black Guy."
I walked into the bathroom and discarded the used condom. Just an FYI, used condoms become hard over time, the latex and semen form a paper mache type of compound. I threw on a towel and walked downstairs and found the Guy that Knew Stuff.
"Yo, Guy, where the fuck am I?"
You were partying with your friends at the pub and you must have become a tad bit too drunk.
"The soccer games lasted a tad bit long"
Well, Shredder just purchased this house and you were too drunk to arrive on time or to realize you were at his house warming party upon your arrival.
"Word"
For real, you showed up here puking your ass off and you passed out on the back deck. Then you perked up instantly an hour later when all the ladies arrived and continued to drink.
"Damn, I'm kind of bad ass"
Settle down there tough guy.
"So what's the deal with Cool Ass Black Guy's truck?"
I was hoping you would ask, because that actually is bad ass. Well, he was drinking at the pub with you, then he showed up here and continued polluting his body. 3 am rolled around and he got a call from the strippers at the Vu, so he left to pick them up and bring them over.
"But he was fucked up"
Yup, and yet he still put his life on the line to get sluttier girls to this party because he cares.
"Wow, he is bad ass"
Not yet there champ, the bad ass is on its way. He pulled out of the driveway and he pumped a little bit too much gas and his truck rolled down the hill.
"Is he ok?"
He pulled himself out of the mini wreck, walked back into the house, downed a couple more shots, and then he took someone else's vehicle to pick up the strippers.
"He's a legend"
That he is.
"One more question, I woke up with a used condom on my dick with hardened sperm caked on my shaft. What's the deal with that?"
You must have bagged one of the strippers, but I don't know which one. Ok that's it my friend, I have to go.
"See you Guy That Knows Stuff."
I told you fuckers that Saturday night was off the chain. I just have to find out who this lucky stripper was, and maybe pop some penicillin in the process.
Side Note: If you're ever going to sustain a minor injury- like a burnt thigh- doing it while high is the best plan of attack. It doesn't really hurt, and it's a tad bit funny.
Ok, now back to Sunday morning. I woke up in a bed that was not mine, in a house that was unfamiliar, and with a used condom on. I don't remember having sex, and I definitely don't know who the girl was. I am amazed that I had the where with all to make sure I threw a jimmy on. I mean, what kind of parent wouldn't want their daughter to hook up with me; even hammered beyond recognition I still chose safe sex, even if it doesn't feel as good.
I stood up and stretched my hungover bones. I looked through the window to the world outside and noticed a dented black truck laying on its side at the bottom of the very long and steep hill this home was set on. Oh fuck, that truck looks just like My Cool Ass Black Friend's truck. I adjusted my view so I could see the licence plate number, and it was his. The vanity plates were intact and definitely read "Cool Ass Black Guy."
I walked into the bathroom and discarded the used condom. Just an FYI, used condoms become hard over time, the latex and semen form a paper mache type of compound. I threw on a towel and walked downstairs and found the Guy that Knew Stuff.
"Yo, Guy, where the fuck am I?"
You were partying with your friends at the pub and you must have become a tad bit too drunk.
"The soccer games lasted a tad bit long"
Well, Shredder just purchased this house and you were too drunk to arrive on time or to realize you were at his house warming party upon your arrival.
"Word"
For real, you showed up here puking your ass off and you passed out on the back deck. Then you perked up instantly an hour later when all the ladies arrived and continued to drink.
"Damn, I'm kind of bad ass"
Settle down there tough guy.
"So what's the deal with Cool Ass Black Guy's truck?"
I was hoping you would ask, because that actually is bad ass. Well, he was drinking at the pub with you, then he showed up here and continued polluting his body. 3 am rolled around and he got a call from the strippers at the Vu, so he left to pick them up and bring them over.
"But he was fucked up"
Yup, and yet he still put his life on the line to get sluttier girls to this party because he cares.
"Wow, he is bad ass"
Not yet there champ, the bad ass is on its way. He pulled out of the driveway and he pumped a little bit too much gas and his truck rolled down the hill.
"Is he ok?"
He pulled himself out of the mini wreck, walked back into the house, downed a couple more shots, and then he took someone else's vehicle to pick up the strippers.
"He's a legend"
That he is.
"One more question, I woke up with a used condom on my dick with hardened sperm caked on my shaft. What's the deal with that?"
You must have bagged one of the strippers, but I don't know which one. Ok that's it my friend, I have to go.
"See you Guy That Knows Stuff."
I told you fuckers that Saturday night was off the chain. I just have to find out who this lucky stripper was, and maybe pop some penicillin in the process.
My Shitty Night
I had to go to the emergency room last night. I had to get a multitude of vaccinations and shots; tetanus, influenza, diphtheria, pertussis, polio, syphilis, flu, bubonic plague, and a score of others.
Why you ask?
Is it because I was involved in the world's most grotesque orgy? NO
Is it because I am a champion at the fight club that takes place at the local meat packing plant? NO
Is it because I have not been laid by a human woman for about 3 months that I resorted to fucking female sheep? NO
Is is because I accidentally dropped my wallet into a porta-potty yesterday? Unfortunately YES.
I was at a festival last night and had my money clip in my hand as I walked into the dreaded portable potty. I set the clip on the plastic shelve covering the toilet paper. As I pissed I laid my head back and moaned in ecstasy. I heard something rustling to my left, but by the time I turned my head its descent into the pit of despair had already begun. I may have been able to grab it, but I was effing hammered.
I had to retrieve my money clip, with all of my I.D's and credit cards from the bowl of a porta potty- with my hands.
Then I collapsed and went into apoplectic shock and awoke in the emergency room, due to the diseased water I had to make contact with.
The worst buzz kill of all time.
Why you ask?
Is it because I was involved in the world's most grotesque orgy? NO
Is it because I am a champion at the fight club that takes place at the local meat packing plant? NO
Is it because I have not been laid by a human woman for about 3 months that I resorted to fucking female sheep? NO
Is is because I accidentally dropped my wallet into a porta-potty yesterday? Unfortunately YES.
I was at a festival last night and had my money clip in my hand as I walked into the dreaded portable potty. I set the clip on the plastic shelve covering the toilet paper. As I pissed I laid my head back and moaned in ecstasy. I heard something rustling to my left, but by the time I turned my head its descent into the pit of despair had already begun. I may have been able to grab it, but I was effing hammered.
I had to retrieve my money clip, with all of my I.D's and credit cards from the bowl of a porta potty- with my hands.
Then I collapsed and went into apoplectic shock and awoke in the emergency room, due to the diseased water I had to make contact with.
The worst buzz kill of all time.
Fisherman's Blues
It's a wonderful day outside so I thought- "Hey, why don't I lug my laptop into the backyard and tan while I type." Not such a great idea.
A June bug jus* landed on my keyboard, on a specific le**er and I am *oo afraid of i* to do any*hing.....I *hink June bugs have a clock *ha* rings a* midnigh* during *he firs* of June, because *hey are *he mos* punc*ual bug in the world. May 31-No June Bugs...June 1s*, a million of *hem.
Ok, now its gone, I can finally use my "T" key again, instead of a star(*) in its stead.
Hold on, I have to run back inside my house.
(Picture a curly haired chap running like a girl back into his humble abode carrying a laptop and some iced green tea...gotta love those anti-oxidants.)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAnd I'm back.
I think that good fisherman and Internet skills are reciprocals. Let me explain.
I went fishing for the first time in my life the other day and caught a grand total of...
(Wait for it)
(Wait for it)
(Wait for it)
Zero fishies.
So as soon as I got home I googled- how do I catch fish. I found some articles that used the lexicon of fisherman, which was Greek to me. So I tried to Youtube some fish vids and found the crappiest lot of self help vids of all time. Half of the vids were ads enticing me to by the actual videos and the others were filmed in 1985 and had the graininess of a Paris Hilton sex tape. Not good times.
Side Note: I love that sex tapes have improved so much. Paris Hilton's was terrible and gave me a slight case of vertigo, but Kim Kardashian's was professionally done and has me on the edge of my porn loving seat for the next famous person's sex tape. I am really rooting for Lindsay Lohan lesbian sex tape, unless it's with that female DJ chick she's jocking lately- puke.
I have come to the conclusion that good fisherman are not very computer savvy. There I said it.
A June bug jus* landed on my keyboard, on a specific le**er and I am *oo afraid of i* to do any*hing.....I *hink June bugs have a clock *ha* rings a* midnigh* during *he firs* of June, because *hey are *he mos* punc*ual bug in the world. May 31-No June Bugs...June 1s*, a million of *hem.
Ok, now its gone, I can finally use my "T" key again, instead of a star(*) in its stead.
Hold on, I have to run back inside my house.
(Picture a curly haired chap running like a girl back into his humble abode carrying a laptop and some iced green tea...gotta love those anti-oxidants.)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAnd I'm back.
I think that good fisherman and Internet skills are reciprocals. Let me explain.
I went fishing for the first time in my life the other day and caught a grand total of...
(Wait for it)
(Wait for it)
(Wait for it)
Zero fishies.
So as soon as I got home I googled- how do I catch fish. I found some articles that used the lexicon of fisherman, which was Greek to me. So I tried to Youtube some fish vids and found the crappiest lot of self help vids of all time. Half of the vids were ads enticing me to by the actual videos and the others were filmed in 1985 and had the graininess of a Paris Hilton sex tape. Not good times.
Side Note: I love that sex tapes have improved so much. Paris Hilton's was terrible and gave me a slight case of vertigo, but Kim Kardashian's was professionally done and has me on the edge of my porn loving seat for the next famous person's sex tape. I am really rooting for Lindsay Lohan lesbian sex tape, unless it's with that female DJ chick she's jocking lately- puke.
I have come to the conclusion that good fisherman are not very computer savvy. There I said it.
Sexless City
Women are finally back on the streets and ensconced in their normal daily routines; The Sex and The City movie must finally be done running its course. I loathe the course of that television show and that movie, but not in the same vein that other man loathe the movie. I hate pointless movements. I have no other reason to hate the show other than the fact that it pulls all the strings like a tampon thief- Ba doom doom.
I am ok with women only hanging out in fours and drinking fluorescent martinis until they get drunk enough to blow me in the back seat of my jeep. I am alright with women worshipping a foursome made up of A Hideous Protagonist, A Lesbian that Plays a Straight Girl, The Cute Chick that isn't all that Cute, and the Sharon Stone Look A Like Cougar that isn't Stone but is extremely boinkable. I am a hater, plain and simple, and I hate pointless movements, I hate cultural phenomena that are completely meaningless. I hate the popularity of poker, I hated Beanie Babies, I've never seen an episode of the Sopranos, I hate American Idol, and I hate Sex and the City.
So this is my welcome home soliloquy to the women fanatics of Sex in the City.
Well I have to get back to reading www.dontbechi.com.
I am ok with women only hanging out in fours and drinking fluorescent martinis until they get drunk enough to blow me in the back seat of my jeep. I am alright with women worshipping a foursome made up of A Hideous Protagonist, A Lesbian that Plays a Straight Girl, The Cute Chick that isn't all that Cute, and the Sharon Stone Look A Like Cougar that isn't Stone but is extremely boinkable. I am a hater, plain and simple, and I hate pointless movements, I hate cultural phenomena that are completely meaningless. I hate the popularity of poker, I hated Beanie Babies, I've never seen an episode of the Sopranos, I hate American Idol, and I hate Sex and the City.
So this is my welcome home soliloquy to the women fanatics of Sex in the City.
Well I have to get back to reading www.dontbechi.com.
From LeeCamp.Net
CLICK ON IT SO YOU CAN READ IT AND LAUGH. DON'T CLICK ON IT IF YOU CAN'T READ....OR CAN'T LAUGH. DON'T CLICK ON IT IF YOU'RE AN ALIEN....JUST IN CASE.
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