Hello, my name is Hoggle. I led Sarah around the tricky labrynth to save that bratty kid Toby from the Goblin King. Yeah OK, I might have been a bit of a pussy but all's well that ends well, right? There is one item I never did accomplish though...I was really hoping to 'hook up' with Sarah during the journey. Reflecting back on it, there's 5 reasons I didn't get the job done:
1. Chicks dig men in beige tights with their package bulging out uncontrollably.
2. I look more like Billy Crystal in about 80 years.
3. Jareth also had teased bangs and a bigger house.
4. Ludo was a shitty wingman.
5. I wear a chastity belt.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Worshipping Satan Has Its Upside
Be honest with yourself, the communion wafer is getting a little old. So are the psalms, the prayers, the dumb looking priests, etc. Christianity has shown its hand and I'm telling you, there isn't much left to discover. There is no 'ace in the hole' with Jesus. When was the last time a genuine miracle occurred? Why is it that miracles only seemed to occur before things like electricity and formal education? So here's the kicker, Satanism has all those things you are missing. If it didn't why would Christians fight so hard against us? Constantly they go on and on about the power of Satan taking hold. Well fuck yeah! I'll tell you, spending an afternoon in a forest of hate surrounded by groveling naked concubines and feasting on lamb's meat is the way to go. Sure we have wierd late night masses that generally degrade into blood-lust orgies but damnation aside, they are really fucking fun. The other day I had a pentagram carved into my back and we made a gruel from the blood soaked rags. Now this may seem strange at first but we're going to go around and rub the gruel all over people's door knobs, car door handles, the metal push plates on public bathrooms-you get the idea. You might ask why and so would we. There is no reason and the gruel does nothing except stink a little, but it is a shitload more fun than sitting through some boring sermon by a guy who has never been legally laid in his life. Take direction in life from a guy who has never gotten a piece of ass? Fuck that, I'm going with the Satanic Priest who licks the asshole of Satan as his final induction. Okay I'll admit that there are some pretty hot Christian chicks out there, but be honest with yourself, late on a friday night when the girl won't let you go further than a kiss on the cheek, I'll bet my brand new cape that you wish she worshipped the dark one. You know you'd require surgery to get the shit eating grin off your face after that night. I'm going to let you mull that over for a while. When you are ready to make a change, just contact your nearest Satanist. We're easy to find because we are not in church on Sunday mornings.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Who Wants Sex Now?
Okay, what the fuck is with the illustrations inside condom packages? To be honest, you'd think someone using a condom would be mature enough to have diagrams that don't appear to be geared towards ten-year-olds. What gives with the wierd fucking balls and the snatch that doesn't have hair but a strange five o'clock shadow? Back to those nuts for a minute. I'd like to know who has nuts that look like a cartoon chin because that fucking guy needs to see a doctor or something. Also, where the fuck are the guy's legs? He just has this wierd disembodied crotch floating in front of her oddly flat crotch that needs a shave. An added bonus for this guy is that he must have the longest pinky finger known to man. Just look at the drawing for a minute and you'll realize that his pinky must be much longer than his index finger. That would be pretty useful for things like scooping up cocaine and giving the shocker really deep.
Arrrghh! This Tooth Be Magical!
The scourge of the seven seas be sweet Erin of Yorkshire Proper whose big front tooth is the ruin of many a young man. She lures the lads in with a flash of 'er tooth and leaves 'em high and dry without a cent to their names. This trick of 'er tooth she calls Cuspid Majik for it works better than Gargamel's potions when stealing the heart of the wayward man. Her favorite haunt be the Old Salty Dog tavern, though truth be told, she's been seen as far away as the J&M in Seattle and McSorley's on Manhattan Island. Her tricks be devious and her strength unknown as she's been seen to take in as many as ten sailors in a single evening with nary a stretch mark or a bleedin' crack to show for it. If you run into the likes of Erin, keep one eye on the tooth and yer hand on yer wallet.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
This Head Was Built For Thinkin'
HEY YOU! That's right! I'm talkin' to you! I'm the kid with the big-ass head lying here on the bench. Don't think I didn't notice your sidelong glances and shocked expression. I know you looked away so quickly because you are jealous of just how big my goddamn head really is. I can think like a son-of-a-bitch with this fucker too. Don't doubt it for a second. I can think around corners like a white bitch can smell cash in a wallet. I'm fucking hard like that. See this bitch in the bandana? She's only sitting here so the fucker with the camera wouldn't snap a picture of the huge fucking cock I have too. Yeah, having a big head is like that, you sometimes get a few more somewhere else. But to be honest, you know, on a lighter note, I hope my neck bulks up a little because a brain this huge likes to think upright. I'm tired of this stupid ass bench. I have a pillow the size of a coffee table and the fuck is custom built. When I grow some hair I'm going to whiff that shit to the sky so fuckers will see me coming from a goddamn mile. I'm going to go think about some intelligent shit right now like particle physics and fucking wave-particle duality. Fuck headbands, fuck size 7 hats and fuck this shit. I'm out.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Yeah I Party
So you asked what I did this last weekend? No? Well I'll tell you anyway. I got fucked up. That's right. Totally fucking hammered. Me and my buddies went down to the asian market on the corner and picked up a case of Lucky and a couple packs of smokes. I slammed two of those fucking beers before we even got back. I stuffed the empties behind some car tires so when they drive off they might pop the tires. Kenny said he was going to drink at least ten but at the rate I was going there wasn't going to be enough for him because I was going to drink at least twenty. I kept chugging them, those stubby, stupid fucking bottles one after another. Joe got pissed and left when I pissed in a bottle and spilled the shit all over his jacket when I was trying to throw it out the window. I finished a bunch of those fucking beers then I passed out on the couch. I guess a bunch of fuckers came over later but I wasn't awake for that shit. Those fucks probably didn't drink that much anyway. Fucks.
You might recognize me from fat camp
Hey there, you look familiar! Didn't you go to Sgt. Stickler's Tub-o-Discipline Camp in Richmond, summer of '76? I thought it was you! How's life turned out for you? You look like you actually dropped a few pounds since then! Har har har. Oh, my shirt? You like it huh? Yeah I guess you could say I didn't take in too many of the lessons Sarge drilled into us that summer! In fact at the advice of my therapist, I'm learning to take my weight problem lightly, and even poke fun at it now and then. I thought this Irish football game would be a perfect time to let the world know that I'm very comfortable knowing children openly stare at me in public. You only live once right? Never thought I'd run into you here though! I'm actually thinking of starting a line of funny T-shirts for the large gentleman. Yeah, probably a pipe dream but I've come up with so many ideas! Wouldn't it be great to see a fat guy wearing a shirt that just says, "Top of the food chain and proud of it"? Har har!! Well listen it was great to see you, have fun at the game. Hey let's get a quick picture together, we'll send it to the Sarge! Up yours Sarge! Har!
Saturday, July 02, 2005
When Drinking Goes Awry
You start out the evening with all to familiar quotes like 'I'm going to get so fucking trashed' and 'I feel a good drunk coming on' but never do you expect to end the night in an ambulance. Face down in the bathroom maybe, but the use of surgical gloves and any kind of serious medical attention is generally off the list things that make a night fun. Then again it's difficult to make it through a serious session without at least one person involved ending up wounded whether it be the result of a self inflicted head wound from an unsuccessful bottle breaking attempts of a fist punched through a pane of glass. Things of this nature are not too far off the beaten path, but the deeper you go into a alcohol or drug induced stupor the more bizarre the results become. This is the realm I like to call the 'Mystery Wound Phase' because rarely are the incidents surrounding the bruises, gouges and internal injuries more than a faint, confusing blur. Ever wake up with a knee the size of a football, a new pair of jeans torn so extensively they look like shorts plus a few burns that look surprisingly similar to cigarette burns on your forehead? No? How about coming to behind a hedge with lacerated palms and a tire track across your chest? Nights like these are often followed by a few days of mild notoriety from 'friends' who were with you who describe your 'utter lack of fear' when attacking a moving vehicle with a flattened basketball or your 'complete disregard for personal safety' when juggling the broken-off necks of several bottles of hard liquor to the delight of the crowd. Entering this level of partying is not for the faint of heart and should not be taken lightly, but that being said it can yield many wonderful memories for others as well as plenty of interesting scars.
Do some like it TALL?
Have you ever looked at a really tall couple and thought how awkward their sex must be? I guess that's why there's not a robust market in porn featuring really TALL chicks. Or is there any tall porn at all? Doing a search for "tall sex" or "tall porn" doesn't brings up a bunch of irrelevant pages. I'm not talking about porn featuring leggy blondes, I'm talking about porn with a six foot four inch behemoth having her way with some dude.
Is that why the WNBA hasn't attracted the same male crowd as women's tennis? There's plenty of TALL girls in pro basketball but I can't recall a Maxim spread with the NY Liberty's backup center in a thong.
So what about women's volleyball, you might ask? The beach volleyball gold medal women's team in last year's Olympics had tongues wagging and featured the thin, oh-so-TALL Kerri Walsh. But most of the perverts focused on her curvy partner and ignored the beanstalk Walsh.
I guess guys are just intimidated by super TALL chicks because they look kind of stupid standing next to one or having to turn their head upwards to get a kiss. But that's irrelevant in porn, and with many guys desiring to get dominated by women, why isn't there a market for watching super TALL chicks getting it on? Is watching midgets really that much better?
Damn it now I'm pissed off. Guys get off on everything under the sun, chicks with horses, chicks with no limbs, chicks getting eaten by zombies - is it really too much to ask for someone to get off on TALL sluts?
Tallwhores.com is still available, somebody better get this going soon.
Is that why the WNBA hasn't attracted the same male crowd as women's tennis? There's plenty of TALL girls in pro basketball but I can't recall a Maxim spread with the NY Liberty's backup center in a thong.
So what about women's volleyball, you might ask? The beach volleyball gold medal women's team in last year's Olympics had tongues wagging and featured the thin, oh-so-TALL Kerri Walsh. But most of the perverts focused on her curvy partner and ignored the beanstalk Walsh.
I guess guys are just intimidated by super TALL chicks because they look kind of stupid standing next to one or having to turn their head upwards to get a kiss. But that's irrelevant in porn, and with many guys desiring to get dominated by women, why isn't there a market for watching super TALL chicks getting it on? Is watching midgets really that much better?
Damn it now I'm pissed off. Guys get off on everything under the sun, chicks with horses, chicks with no limbs, chicks getting eaten by zombies - is it really too much to ask for someone to get off on TALL sluts?
Tallwhores.com is still available, somebody better get this going soon.
Friday, July 01, 2005
He's Fat, He's Ugly, He's Duh Beast
I spend my Friday afternoons heading over to Google Images and entering in 'fat and ugly' just to see what's new in the world of fat and ugly shit. Today produced a wonderful new find on the indie music site CD Baby, http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/hevewae
From what I can tell this is a rapper named Hev-E-Wae Duh F.A.T. Beast. I'm not sure if that's what he puts on his tax returns but if it's a stage name, it seems a bit forced. So that got the "fat" part out of the equation, but what makes him ugly? As a person he may look a little confused and off-kilter but ugly isn't the first thing that entered my mind. Then I saw the description of his sound:
"It the beast, Raw-er then a baby fowl diaper, and ugly. It call RUFFCORE something you can party, smoke or fight to. Don't believe aiight bet."
When he says "baby fowl diaper" is he talking about a diaper for chicks (you know, poultry) like to keep a barnyard clean? More likely he didn't minor in spelling at Ruffcore U. But when you describe your music as something you can either party OR fight to, this shows his sound must have much to offer. So go pick up Duh F.A.T. Beast's new album, and if you're reading this Duh F.A.T. Beast, stay ugly and don't sell out and become an accountant or some shit.
From what I can tell this is a rapper named Hev-E-Wae Duh F.A.T. Beast. I'm not sure if that's what he puts on his tax returns but if it's a stage name, it seems a bit forced. So that got the "fat" part out of the equation, but what makes him ugly? As a person he may look a little confused and off-kilter but ugly isn't the first thing that entered my mind. Then I saw the description of his sound:
"It the beast, Raw-er then a baby fowl diaper, and ugly. It call RUFFCORE something you can party, smoke or fight to. Don't believe aiight bet."
When he says "baby fowl diaper" is he talking about a diaper for chicks (you know, poultry) like to keep a barnyard clean? More likely he didn't minor in spelling at Ruffcore U. But when you describe your music as something you can either party OR fight to, this shows his sound must have much to offer. So go pick up Duh F.A.T. Beast's new album, and if you're reading this Duh F.A.T. Beast, stay ugly and don't sell out and become an accountant or some shit.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Full Beards Usually Earn Sex
I grew this beard knowing full well that I would probably be hounded for sex from numerous young women. There didn't seem to be a down side to this situation so I began to cultivate a long Merlinesque beard. More work is required than one would think when growing a beard, it's not just sitting around letting things progress naturally. I found that rubbing the liquefied placenta of a horse into the thick strands of growth helped keep the beard glossy and full. The smell was not altogether unpleasant either. I have yet to find myself bombarded by offers of sex but I feel this is due to the fact that some women are nervous that only four square inches of my face is visible. My piercing, hawk-like eyes show them that there is much more beneath the beard. My beard continues to grow and so does my desire for the gentle sex.
Postlethwaite Not Very Good Looking
It really struck me the other day as I was watching the Usual Suspects for the 2000th time that Mr. Kobayashi is a pretty ugly man. His endearing if somewhat pathetic role as Giuseppe Conlon wormed his way into my heart and when he finally croaked I was pretty bummed. The only thing keeping this guy from reaching any real headlining stardom is the fact that his face could scare paint off the wall. I have to wonder what goes through a person like him when they decide that they are much better suited to be in front of a camera instead of behind it. As a side note, its interesting to know that embalming fluid when pumped into human veins expands the erectile tissues. Think about that one next time they only open the top half of a casket at a funeral.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
When Oprah Attacks
http://www.cnn.com/2005/SHOWBIZ/TV/06/22/oprah.apology/index.html
So let me get this straight...Oprah shows up at a furniture store 15 minutes AFTER it closed, they don't let her in, and the store ends up apologizing to her. Why? She plays the race card of course. You've gotta step back and think about this one - if it wasn't Oprah, but a white middle class woman looking to buy furniture, would they have let that woman in? No...so where does color come into this. Is she trying to become a billionaire Rosa Parks? Methinks Oprah is a little too used to getting what she wants, and the press is all too willing to go along with it. This link was placed on the front page of CNN with the headline: "Luxury Store Turns Away Oprah, Apologizes" which immediately puts the image of a racist piece of shit store into your mind. A more accurate headline would have been "Oprah Demands to Enter Closed Store, Pretentiousness Clouding Rationality."
So let me get this straight...Oprah shows up at a furniture store 15 minutes AFTER it closed, they don't let her in, and the store ends up apologizing to her. Why? She plays the race card of course. You've gotta step back and think about this one - if it wasn't Oprah, but a white middle class woman looking to buy furniture, would they have let that woman in? No...so where does color come into this. Is she trying to become a billionaire Rosa Parks? Methinks Oprah is a little too used to getting what she wants, and the press is all too willing to go along with it. This link was placed on the front page of CNN with the headline: "Luxury Store Turns Away Oprah, Apologizes" which immediately puts the image of a racist piece of shit store into your mind. A more accurate headline would have been "Oprah Demands to Enter Closed Store, Pretentiousness Clouding Rationality."
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Wierd Stain Probably Not Chocolate
Being the night stocker at a major supermarket has never been an enviable position. No one ever says 'no way' when you tell them that's what you do. It's just a job that provides a check every two weeks. It becomes much less than this when dealing with certain less pleasant aspects that fall into the job description. Remember hearing about the kid that crawled behind the bundles of toilet paper and took a shit? Yeah? Well it happens almost every week at a large store, for some reason more often in rural centers. When the day manager discovers this wonderful treat he most likely will pretend he hasn't because it will undoubtedly be found by the night stocker. Cleaning up hidden shits, wayward vomit and the less disgusting but also annoying package of raw fish hidden in the canned soup aisle by the shopper who changed their mind but didn't want to walk the thirty feet back to the meat counter is all part of the job. Chris Kelly, a long time night stocker did not find it unusual that his manager left a note to 'clean the area around the dumpster' but the ominous post script 'the walls too' left a feeling of foreboding in the pit of his stomach as he walked through the heavy steel door into the alley. A few seconds later he saw what he had hoped he would not, a dark splattery brown stain running down the wall like a chocolate syrup filled water balloon had fallen from the heavens at a decidedly sharp angle into the lower wall. Kelly crossed himself as a good Catholic will in situations like this and returned to the store. Cleaning supplies would be necessary but so would a nice tall bottle of beer from the walk in cooler. The beer would go nice with the crushing sense of self pity he would surely feel in about five minutes.
A Message from your Governor
Don't go see Batman Begins. This new addition to the Batman series will only tarnish the legacy we left with what should have been the final installment, Batman & Robin. Batgirl's suit had nipples that were fully visible on her suit - why would they dare cut her out of this latest version? I am the Gubernator and I will personally visit theaters across the state to insure they are not showing this travesty to the public. Christian Bale can probably bench no more than 235 lbs anyway. Remember that time in Batman & Robin when I told everyone to Freeze? You can forget about seeing that kind of wit in Batman Begins, it looks so serious from what I've seen on the previews. I wonder if they're going to reuse clips from the first Batman when they show Bruce Wayne's parents being killed? If you happen to see it - and you shouldn't - let me know.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Yo Jasmine!
Excellent point about the girly names for boys. I once knew a short, hairy kid from the mean streets who had the unfortunate name of Jasmine. He lived with a responsible older brother that looked out for him, but Jasmine's name led him to do unreasonalbe things like drink Mickey's and chew plug tobacco.
What Gives With These Pedophiles?
Everywhere we look nowadays there’s another article about pedophilia smeared across the headlines in bold thirty point font. Instead of thrusting these lusty fellows into the limelight to bask in the glory of their child raping brethren, how about take a step a couple dozen centuries and reinstitute an old custom. This is not a new idea by any stretch; an eye for an eye. There seems to be some squeamishness when it comes down to truly punishing those who deserve it, but I was fortunately born without this reluctance. I propose that society creates a system by which child lovers are made to submit to the same sexual intimacies they would thrust upon children. I’ve heard of a black man, currently serving in the Illinois state correctional system who is of massive stature in both height and breadth. His massive frame is such that the average man seems just a mere child standing at his elbow. Also massive is this man’s penis, claim those who have had the ill-fortune to have been sent to the showers in his company. A full foot long and thick as a man’s wrist, fiercely veined and a deep coal black, like stove pipe that has somehow been conjured to life. If this man were to rape another man, say a child rapist for instance, it would be very similar in sensation to that which was forced upon the child. After two or three days of twice-daily sessions of oral and anal rape, the newly transformed pedophile could be released to a hospital for surgery and recovery. Two months later, a new man would walk out of the prison hospital, changed both mentally and physically. The chances of re-offending, in the face of repeated ‘therapy’ would be well below the standard 75% recidivism rate currently seen by parolee’s. Some might be curious about the black man, whether or not he himself would be willing to issue forth such punishments, but this is not an issue of concern. There is always a man like this one, somewhere, just waiting to unleash his hidden talent. The ‘eye for an eye’ soldier could go about freely in a loincloth and be respected. We could call him ‘Karl’ and give him free drinks.
Feminine Names Lead to Murder
There is something fundamentally wrong with giving a child a name of the opposite sex. It never sits well with the child, and sits even less well with schoolmates who, as everyone is so fond of saying, can be so cruel. The young boys with feminine names are never able to escape the inevitable teasing and it seems quite likely that the offending parents have this in mind from the start. Is it as the Johnny Cash song suggests; ‘I grew up fast and I grew up mean?’ Is that the intention of these parents, to toughen their son’s skins against a brutal and sometimes cold and cruel world? It seems this phenomenon primarily afflicts boys, as there are few female Jeffrey’s or William’s floating around. Yes there is Daryl Hannah, that much must be conceded. But could it be that parents are so far removed from reality they think a boy named Stacey will have an easy go of things growing up? Even deeper into that avenue of thought is the reality that it is the female parent who chooses these names, not the male. No father thinks ahead fondly of the son he will some day name Tracy or Ashley or, yes it really happens, Kelly. The unlucky boys know this, because it is inevitable that after a particularly grueling session of teasing on the bus ride home from school that the boy will ask (probably through a shroud of tears) why his name is Rebecca. This will undoubtedly sow seeds of hatred within the boy and will accumulate throughout his lifetime, ultimately finding an outlet though unusual means. It is not beyond the realm of possibility that they become a serial killer. Think of Angel Resendez better known as ‘The Railroad Killer.’ Deep in your heart can you think of a better reason to kill a whole mess of people than growing up in rural Mexico with the name Angel?
Sunday, June 12, 2005
The Lewis Dilemma
One movie that has certainly been overlooked from a pyschological perspective is "Teen Wolf." It's not unreasonable to think co-writers Jeph Loeb and Matthew Weisman will be looked at a century from now as Van Gogh-type figures - geniuses that were placed on this earth too soon for their time. And here's the crux of my argument: there's a lot more going on than meets the eye in that movie. Way before M. Night Shyamalan made this trick standard practice, Loeb and Weisman toyed with the audience's idea of reality: is what we're seeing on the screen what's "really" happening, or are we seeing a reality based upon on the mindset of the protaganist?
This isn't to argue that Scott Howard and his father Harold weren't truly werewolves - of that there is no doubt. No mere mortal could pull off a handstand like that on top of a moving van. No, the question involves a much overlooked character that is crucial to bringing Howard's out-of-control ego back down to earth and making him realize that despite his superhuman strength and chest hair, he's really just a teenager that should be himself - and that character is Lewis.
The question that is sure to be debated by our children and our children's children is this: was Lewis a real person involved in Scott Howard's life, or is he just a figment of Howard's twisted conscience? Scholars at top universities are beginning to formulate detailed theses arguing that Lewis never existed in a physical sense, instead representing the sense of balance and rationality missing in Scott's mind.
Remember the scene when Scott is wolfed out walking through the halls, and says hi to Lewis, only to be greeted by a frightened stare? The layman would think that scene is conveying Scott is alienating his old friends, but a more thorough analysis would show that Lewis was never there in the first place, and while Scott subconsiously realizes he's losing his grip on popularity, it only becomes evident in halucinations such as this. Note how Lewis falls out of the picture as Scott regains his compusure and plays the championship game without his beard and fangs: his conscience is healthy enough to discard Lewis to its depths.
It's a shame Teen Wolf Too (also penned by Loeb and Weisma) didn't reach this level of pyschoanalytic analysis, perhaps they were frustrated by the blatant lapse by reviewers to realize the depth to their first offering. Time will be on their side, however. The Lewis dilemma will continue unabated for years to come.
This isn't to argue that Scott Howard and his father Harold weren't truly werewolves - of that there is no doubt. No mere mortal could pull off a handstand like that on top of a moving van. No, the question involves a much overlooked character that is crucial to bringing Howard's out-of-control ego back down to earth and making him realize that despite his superhuman strength and chest hair, he's really just a teenager that should be himself - and that character is Lewis.
The question that is sure to be debated by our children and our children's children is this: was Lewis a real person involved in Scott Howard's life, or is he just a figment of Howard's twisted conscience? Scholars at top universities are beginning to formulate detailed theses arguing that Lewis never existed in a physical sense, instead representing the sense of balance and rationality missing in Scott's mind.
Remember the scene when Scott is wolfed out walking through the halls, and says hi to Lewis, only to be greeted by a frightened stare? The layman would think that scene is conveying Scott is alienating his old friends, but a more thorough analysis would show that Lewis was never there in the first place, and while Scott subconsiously realizes he's losing his grip on popularity, it only becomes evident in halucinations such as this. Note how Lewis falls out of the picture as Scott regains his compusure and plays the championship game without his beard and fangs: his conscience is healthy enough to discard Lewis to its depths.
It's a shame Teen Wolf Too (also penned by Loeb and Weisma) didn't reach this level of pyschoanalytic analysis, perhaps they were frustrated by the blatant lapse by reviewers to realize the depth to their first offering. Time will be on their side, however. The Lewis dilemma will continue unabated for years to come.
Iowa Man Pretty Sure He Took World's Longest Piss
Four pitchers at McLeod's Tavern on 4th Street and two Miller Lite tallboys during the drive home put Kenny Cho in a bad way to relieve himself. When friend and drinking buddy John Long decided to swing by a friend's house to pick up a Playstation game on the way home, Cho began to double up with a painful need to urinate. For reasons he was later unable to recall, Cho did not simply use the restroom at Long's friend's residence, preferring to wait until they returned to his apartment. Thirty agonizing minutes later Cho stumbled through the entry way to his apartment, dropped the remaining beer cans onto the tile floor and ran into the apartment's sole bathroom. Later, when Cho sauntered from the bathroom much relieved, he pointed out that he may have actually broken a record for 'the world's longest piss.' Long argued that he probably had not broken any record's citing a piss of impressive duration he himself had taken just two weeks before. Cho was steadfast in his claim describing the piss as having lasted 'at least five minutes,' as well as 'filling the whole bowl with foam' and 'almost overflowed the thing.'
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Confused. Orange hat.
There I was, stumbling down the avenue and desperately trying to remember where I'd misplaced the bar. God damn it I love bowling. It's really the only gentleman's game left now that dueling has been outlawed. And why the fuck should they care that I'm wearing an orange hat? They can all go fuck themselves. And if that bouncer says one word about my orange hat I'm going to aim it at his eye. This is my night.
Later on as I played pool, I thought I could sense a young girl glaring at the hat and I ran out to the street and hailed a cab. The interior doesn't match my hat but you can't win every time. I think I'm going to reevaluate my life in the morning.
Later on as I played pool, I thought I could sense a young girl glaring at the hat and I ran out to the street and hailed a cab. The interior doesn't match my hat but you can't win every time. I think I'm going to reevaluate my life in the morning.
Scientist Proves Inanimate Objects Can Indeed Appear ‘Gay’
It all began when bio-chemist Moller Beardsley overheard two young men arguing over the ‘gayness’ of one of the men’s t-shirts. “It’s got gay written all over it,” proclaimed one hip looking youth with spiky hair and dark worn out looking jeans. The other youth, a carbon copy of the first save the form fitting salmon colored t-shirt he wore seemed perplexed by the other’s accusations. “No way!” He cried, pointing to his garment proudly. “I’ve had this shirt since 8th grade!”
Beardsley, his interest piqued by the exchange, began a series of double-blind, placebo controlled experiments with hopes of once and for all proving homosexuality in inanimate object’s such as clothes, books, music CD’s and hair care products. ‘Gayness’ being rated on a generalized scale of 1 to 10 is assigned to those products that have the highest correlation to their proximity and influence over homosexual acts in humans within a fifteen foot radius. Conclusive findings show that an increased level of ‘gayness’ is found in items such as poly-silk blend fabrics, lotions containing flax seed oil, Susan Sarandon films and toilet paper.
Beardsley, his interest piqued by the exchange, began a series of double-blind, placebo controlled experiments with hopes of once and for all proving homosexuality in inanimate object’s such as clothes, books, music CD’s and hair care products. ‘Gayness’ being rated on a generalized scale of 1 to 10 is assigned to those products that have the highest correlation to their proximity and influence over homosexual acts in humans within a fifteen foot radius. Conclusive findings show that an increased level of ‘gayness’ is found in items such as poly-silk blend fabrics, lotions containing flax seed oil, Susan Sarandon films and toilet paper.
She of the disappearing jawline
Have you ever wondered what kind of magical, hideous powers Rebecca DeMornay possesses? She has actually convinced studio executives to cast her in movies...in essence PAYING her to expose her thin face to millions of people. Tom Cruise didn't know what he was getting into, nor did Billy Baldwin in 'Backdraft'. And has Hollywood learned it's lesson? Of course not. You can catch Dr. DeMornay in 'Lords of Dogtown' this summer. Don't forget to bring a bowie knife in case things get ugly.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Caught You Lookin'
I think I caught you looking at my Lance Armstrong bracelet. Yeah they come in green now, but no I won’t tell you where I got it. I had sex with your girlfriend when she was a freshman in college. Man that girl was so thin back then! Sorry she’s all thick now, but I don’t really think that was my fault. I learned to dance watching all those great R&B songs on MTV. I call in all the time so they’ll play my favorite R&B videos instead of some stupid rock song with instruments. I slept with your girlfriend in my Eclipse last summer. My dad bought the car, my stepdad bought the stereo, my job at Abercrombie bought me the Nelly CD we were listening to. I’m going to community college next year, maybe. I think I’m going to be a lawyer or a stock broker. I haven’t shaved yet and I’m twenty four.
Boy unearths ancient axe head
An axe head that could be as many as 6,000 years old has been discovered by a five-year-old boy in a Worcestershire playing field.
Kieran Young was looking for pottery with his mother in West Malvern when he came across what appeared to be a large, smooth stone.
They took the axe head to academics at University College, Worcester, who believe it dates from the Neolithic period.
The artefact has now been sent to the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford for a more thorough examination.
Kieran's mother Lisa Warburton said the axe head was an exciting discovery.
"We took it to the university at Worcester to the archaeology department who were very helpful," she said.
"They told us, if it was British, it could be Neolithic, which is about 6,000 years old."
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/2818537.stm
Kieran Young was looking for pottery with his mother in West Malvern when he came across what appeared to be a large, smooth stone.
They took the axe head to academics at University College, Worcester, who believe it dates from the Neolithic period.
The artefact has now been sent to the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford for a more thorough examination.
Kieran's mother Lisa Warburton said the axe head was an exciting discovery.
"We took it to the university at Worcester to the archaeology department who were very helpful," she said.
"They told us, if it was British, it could be Neolithic, which is about 6,000 years old."
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/2818537.stm
Local Man Struggling With Sexuality Finds Solace In Mountains
The man who would only provide his name as 'Jemimah' was first noticed wandering the footpaths of Mt. Rainier National Park in early Spring. Since then sightings of the sexually frustrated out-of-work coal miner have become commonplace amongst the close-knit family of trail hikers. "The boy is just mixed up is all," puffed Joey Kendall, a local masseuse, as he made his way around the 9.2 mile Cresent Trail. Kendall, a longtime visitor of the park first noticed 'Jemimah' on an outing with friends in late April. "What I noticed first was the shorts he was wearing. I can only describe them as being hideously small." Kendall's friend and hiking partner Michael Perrine declined to comment. With good weather fronts moving in and the promise of long weeks of sunshine, this young man may have to find a new place to work out his sexual dilemmas as visitors to the park are expected to increase as much as 300% in the next month.
Gubernatorial Hopeful Enjoys Sex; Handjob
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Rich Bitches Pet Dog; Ignore Human
When Britt Galveston and Lexi Comstock decided to spend an afternoon shoe shopping the idea that they might actually come into close proximity to filthy man with black toenails was the furthest thing from their minds. Little did they know that their shopping adventure would lead them so close to the bowels of humanity still just a stone’s throw of their beloved Banana Republic.
Shopping downtown was initially Lexi’s plan, her idea of a great stress reliever from the rigors of being a stay at home housewife. With no kids and an overactive Latin housekeeper, she finds the monotony of suburban life in the high-end Glowing Pond housing community a bit of a yawn. Prodding Britt into an all day spend-a-thon was no big chore as the equally unencumbered mother of none spends most of her time shopping on Ebay for cute flip-flops and tennis skirts. Their husbands always away working, the two hopped into Lexi’s twelve passenger Ford Excursion for the fifteen minute drive into the heart of downtown’s shopping district. Three hours, five stores and an economy car’s value in trinkets left them in search of a quick bite to eat and maybe a few drinks too. Spying Kaktus, the new Tex-Mex bistro nestled in between a Starbucks and the GameStop, they knew their lunch would be a smash. An ignored appetizer, some weird salsa coated burrito-thingies and five Lemondrops later, the two were loudly swapping dirty stories from the Phi Beta Gamma sleeping porch and giggling at the two fat ‘housewives’ sitting at the next table. “Remember the night Kelly Rhodsinski took too many laxatives and shit in her bed?” Lexi cackled pointing disgustedly at the woman at the next table who (despite being a good fifteen pounds overweight) seemed to be eating her lunch. “That girl was always trying to lose weight. Why didn’t she just give up?” Britt replied with a chuckle. Another Lemondrop each landed the two on the sidewalk, a bit unstable but totally satisfied that they withheld the waiter’s tip because Britt’s burrito-thingy looked overcooked. Feeling a little tipsy and laughing full volume at ugly people walking by, the two spied a homeless man named ‘Bucket’ with his pet bulldog. Cooing loudly and making baby noises the girls squatted in wholly unladylike fashion before the man who hadn’t eaten a full meal in five days and began petting his mangy dog. Bucket, who’d spent the night sleeping on exhaust vent at the Pioneer building on 6th street, stared tiredly at the ground wondering if either of the women might give him a quarter or two. He needed a drink badly and his hands had begun to shake again. Meanwhile Britt thrust her camera into the hands of a harried looking old woman as she made her way past and demanded that the woman ‘catch them in a picture real quick.’ Lexi and Britt laughed most of the way home, except when a cop drove behind them for a while and Lexi was sure she was going to get nailed for DUI. Bucket wandered off after a while and stepped on broken glass while trying to take a shit behind a dumpster. The cut infected and because of the ensuing infection the doctors at the veteran’s hospital had to cut the leg off at the knee. That night Britt was trying to upload the picture of her, Lexi and the dog onto the computer and found a large cache of pornography depicting extremely young looking teenage girls. Lexi hasn’t eaten more than 500 calories in a day since then. Britt’s doctor found polyps in her colon.
Shopping downtown was initially Lexi’s plan, her idea of a great stress reliever from the rigors of being a stay at home housewife. With no kids and an overactive Latin housekeeper, she finds the monotony of suburban life in the high-end Glowing Pond housing community a bit of a yawn. Prodding Britt into an all day spend-a-thon was no big chore as the equally unencumbered mother of none spends most of her time shopping on Ebay for cute flip-flops and tennis skirts. Their husbands always away working, the two hopped into Lexi’s twelve passenger Ford Excursion for the fifteen minute drive into the heart of downtown’s shopping district. Three hours, five stores and an economy car’s value in trinkets left them in search of a quick bite to eat and maybe a few drinks too. Spying Kaktus, the new Tex-Mex bistro nestled in between a Starbucks and the GameStop, they knew their lunch would be a smash. An ignored appetizer, some weird salsa coated burrito-thingies and five Lemondrops later, the two were loudly swapping dirty stories from the Phi Beta Gamma sleeping porch and giggling at the two fat ‘housewives’ sitting at the next table. “Remember the night Kelly Rhodsinski took too many laxatives and shit in her bed?” Lexi cackled pointing disgustedly at the woman at the next table who (despite being a good fifteen pounds overweight) seemed to be eating her lunch. “That girl was always trying to lose weight. Why didn’t she just give up?” Britt replied with a chuckle. Another Lemondrop each landed the two on the sidewalk, a bit unstable but totally satisfied that they withheld the waiter’s tip because Britt’s burrito-thingy looked overcooked. Feeling a little tipsy and laughing full volume at ugly people walking by, the two spied a homeless man named ‘Bucket’ with his pet bulldog. Cooing loudly and making baby noises the girls squatted in wholly unladylike fashion before the man who hadn’t eaten a full meal in five days and began petting his mangy dog. Bucket, who’d spent the night sleeping on exhaust vent at the Pioneer building on 6th street, stared tiredly at the ground wondering if either of the women might give him a quarter or two. He needed a drink badly and his hands had begun to shake again. Meanwhile Britt thrust her camera into the hands of a harried looking old woman as she made her way past and demanded that the woman ‘catch them in a picture real quick.’ Lexi and Britt laughed most of the way home, except when a cop drove behind them for a while and Lexi was sure she was going to get nailed for DUI. Bucket wandered off after a while and stepped on broken glass while trying to take a shit behind a dumpster. The cut infected and because of the ensuing infection the doctors at the veteran’s hospital had to cut the leg off at the knee. That night Britt was trying to upload the picture of her, Lexi and the dog onto the computer and found a large cache of pornography depicting extremely young looking teenage girls. Lexi hasn’t eaten more than 500 calories in a day since then. Britt’s doctor found polyps in her colon.
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