what a great prank. sure it's the the old school tape delay lotto gag... but check out the dick biting dog.
i saw this a month or so ago. i was apprehensive as it seemed fake. but, i have been running into it everywhere so i had to post the saddest fanboy.
hate emo? love songs about how gay emo is? then you'll love this.
28 December 2005
26 December 2005
ARE YOU READY FOR SOME BASEBOWL!!!!??!!
So, it's Christmas night, and I was tired as shit. rev was having a shindig at his urine soaked hell hole (pee pee soaked heck hole as he likes it). Again, I was tired as shit. From Friday night to Sunday I had a total of 6 hours of sleep. So I had decided to forego the shindig for some sleep. I had a pretty good nap kicking when the phone rang, and I was peer pressured by Sahar's brother Ed. So, we stop at the gas station I pick up some crunk!! and realize I should have brought some alcohol since Michigan sucks ass and has a 34 hour liquor blackout from 9pm Christmas eve. Whatever, we pick up a couple more friends and head to the hovel for some drinking and movies.
Since the beer was at a minimum I had to leech off rev's supply of booze. No big shakes. So we all sit through "Penn and Teller Get Killed" since none of us have seen it since it was on hbo back in 1990, and drink, a lot. After that is a screening of “Bachelor Party” as Dee had never seen it, and well, we needed to expose her to it. At one point my buddy Harry finds a fisher price/playschool bowling ball. You know the one, tiny as shit, hollow, about as big as a bocce ball. Yeah, that thing. Then Ed and Harry notice they have 10 empty beer bottles and decided to try a gentle game of bowling while sitting from about 2 feet away. Eventually this leads to frustration and Ed kicking the bottles over and then resetting them. I ask for a try. The problem with me trying is that I am sitting in a lazy boy, with the bottles about 6 feet away from me due right. They were very close to the couch which paralleled my throw. I was further guarded by the coffee table and a wine glass that was on the corner of the coffee table. So basically I am 6 feet away, elevated and trying to hit ten beer bottles on the floor through and over a 10 inch space between the coffee table and couch. They tell me I have to throw it hard cuz they have the bottles packed kinda close. "Like a pool rack" Ed had noted. So I threw it. I hurled that ball and made a mighty contact tossing many a bottle asunder. The noise was glorious. The sound of glass crashing against glass was magnificent. So I had to pick up my spare. I did, and then this manifested itself to everyone moving to a position in front of the lazy boy and standing, not unlike a pitcher. The distance between the thrower and the pins had increased considerably and the speed and accuracy of the throws had increased and decreased respectively.
Thus basebowl was born. It’s a simple drunken game really. Take 10 beer bottles set them up not unlike bowling pins, grab your little plastic bowling ball, stand at least 10 feet away and throw that shit to knock down all the bottles. Here’s where it gets tricky: the pins are the batter, you are the pitcher. When you throw the ball and miss entirely that's a ball. 4 balls is a walk (durr...), however, just hitting the bottles is a strike. Knocking down all the bottles is a strike out. But wait there are 10 pins, what if I only knock down one pin at a time? How can 10 strikes be an out? They’re not you twit, everything after the 2nd strike till all the bottles are knocked down are foul balls. If you hit a bottle that's already been knocked down but don't knock over a bottle, that's also a foul ball. Get it? So as long as you hit bottles you keep throwing till all of the bottles are knocked down. Miss all the bottles four times, and you turn is over, you just walked the batter. Now, some special rules: the ball does not have to hit the bottles first. It can hit any goddamn thing it pleases whenever it wants. The throw is not over till the ball has come to rest, as it is legal for the ball to bounce from behind the bottles or wherever and knock bottles to count as a strike. you can hit the bottles, have the ball bounce off of a nearby players head and knock down the rest of the bottles and that counts as an out (that scenario is far more likely than you'd imagine). So, whenever the ball leaves the pitchers hand, till it comes to rest, any bottles knocked down count. This does not however count for fouls. A ball deemed to have missed the pins entirely and thus lethargically rolling back towards the pins and hitting a FALLEN pin does not count as foul. Hitting a standing pin does. Now, for the tricky rules: if, you hit a fallen bottle and cause it become upright again this is a sacrifice fly. You get the out, and the remaining bottles (including the one you just stood up) are now treated as a new batter. So your count is set to 0-0, and you have to try to knock these last pins down. Simple enough. The same thing goes for broken bottles. You break a bottle you just got that motherfucker out. You took him down swinging. Break, two on one throw, it's a double play. When breaking either one or two bottles the bottles remaining (if any) shall be played as a new batter. IF you manage to break three bottles in one throw that's an obvious triple play and no more tosses are needed if any bottles remain standing. Just clean up the mess and reset the pins with new bottles in place of the dead ones.
Keeping score: go fuck yourself. You’re drunk you're doing it to throw shit at glass shit and make loud noises and cheer, and trashtalk and do bad Howard Cosell play by play impressions. The only thing you might want to keep track of is if you have been pitching a no hitter. Other than that, who cares? Drink some more, watch out for flying plastic bowling balls cuz they WILL hit you, and clean up the glass (maybe).
Since the beer was at a minimum I had to leech off rev's supply of booze. No big shakes. So we all sit through "Penn and Teller Get Killed" since none of us have seen it since it was on hbo back in 1990, and drink, a lot. After that is a screening of “Bachelor Party” as Dee had never seen it, and well, we needed to expose her to it. At one point my buddy Harry finds a fisher price/playschool bowling ball. You know the one, tiny as shit, hollow, about as big as a bocce ball. Yeah, that thing. Then Ed and Harry notice they have 10 empty beer bottles and decided to try a gentle game of bowling while sitting from about 2 feet away. Eventually this leads to frustration and Ed kicking the bottles over and then resetting them. I ask for a try. The problem with me trying is that I am sitting in a lazy boy, with the bottles about 6 feet away from me due right. They were very close to the couch which paralleled my throw. I was further guarded by the coffee table and a wine glass that was on the corner of the coffee table. So basically I am 6 feet away, elevated and trying to hit ten beer bottles on the floor through and over a 10 inch space between the coffee table and couch. They tell me I have to throw it hard cuz they have the bottles packed kinda close. "Like a pool rack" Ed had noted. So I threw it. I hurled that ball and made a mighty contact tossing many a bottle asunder. The noise was glorious. The sound of glass crashing against glass was magnificent. So I had to pick up my spare. I did, and then this manifested itself to everyone moving to a position in front of the lazy boy and standing, not unlike a pitcher. The distance between the thrower and the pins had increased considerably and the speed and accuracy of the throws had increased and decreased respectively.
Thus basebowl was born. It’s a simple drunken game really. Take 10 beer bottles set them up not unlike bowling pins, grab your little plastic bowling ball, stand at least 10 feet away and throw that shit to knock down all the bottles. Here’s where it gets tricky: the pins are the batter, you are the pitcher. When you throw the ball and miss entirely that's a ball. 4 balls is a walk (durr...), however, just hitting the bottles is a strike. Knocking down all the bottles is a strike out. But wait there are 10 pins, what if I only knock down one pin at a time? How can 10 strikes be an out? They’re not you twit, everything after the 2nd strike till all the bottles are knocked down are foul balls. If you hit a bottle that's already been knocked down but don't knock over a bottle, that's also a foul ball. Get it? So as long as you hit bottles you keep throwing till all of the bottles are knocked down. Miss all the bottles four times, and you turn is over, you just walked the batter. Now, some special rules: the ball does not have to hit the bottles first. It can hit any goddamn thing it pleases whenever it wants. The throw is not over till the ball has come to rest, as it is legal for the ball to bounce from behind the bottles or wherever and knock bottles to count as a strike. you can hit the bottles, have the ball bounce off of a nearby players head and knock down the rest of the bottles and that counts as an out (that scenario is far more likely than you'd imagine). So, whenever the ball leaves the pitchers hand, till it comes to rest, any bottles knocked down count. This does not however count for fouls. A ball deemed to have missed the pins entirely and thus lethargically rolling back towards the pins and hitting a FALLEN pin does not count as foul. Hitting a standing pin does. Now, for the tricky rules: if, you hit a fallen bottle and cause it become upright again this is a sacrifice fly. You get the out, and the remaining bottles (including the one you just stood up) are now treated as a new batter. So your count is set to 0-0, and you have to try to knock these last pins down. Simple enough. The same thing goes for broken bottles. You break a bottle you just got that motherfucker out. You took him down swinging. Break, two on one throw, it's a double play. When breaking either one or two bottles the bottles remaining (if any) shall be played as a new batter. IF you manage to break three bottles in one throw that's an obvious triple play and no more tosses are needed if any bottles remain standing. Just clean up the mess and reset the pins with new bottles in place of the dead ones.
Keeping score: go fuck yourself. You’re drunk you're doing it to throw shit at glass shit and make loud noises and cheer, and trashtalk and do bad Howard Cosell play by play impressions. The only thing you might want to keep track of is if you have been pitching a no hitter. Other than that, who cares? Drink some more, watch out for flying plastic bowling balls cuz they WILL hit you, and clean up the glass (maybe).
23 December 2005
oh my god it's the emperor!
my grandmother is sitting here yelling at my grandfather and she is doing so with a towel draped on her head (she just got out of the shower) and it has fallen perfectly along both sides of her face that she looks like goddamn emperor palpatine... i am waiting for her to shoot electricity out of her hands and shit.
"gimme a cigarette you damned sonofabitch! i'll kick your false teeth out!"
"gimme a cigarette you damned sonofabitch! i'll kick your false teeth out!"
19 December 2005
Ahh Christmas
Stories like this renew my faith in humanity as a whole and show me that holiday cheer is not dead. ride on santa, ride on.
17 December 2005
bored
some funny shit
Why i love hockey. ahh the fights and the fights.
uhhh... Ma? ick, ack... reading this makes me feel dirty.
wow... what happens if the were trying to give him fed ex?
on scond thought, i will not be camera man for you.fake(NSFW)
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bottom link fixed. thanks joe.
Why i love hockey. ahh the fights and the fights.
uhhh... Ma? ick, ack... reading this makes me feel dirty.
wow... what happens if the were trying to give him fed ex?
on scond thought, i will not be camera man for you.fake(NSFW)
-----
bottom link fixed. thanks joe.
14 December 2005
Ahh! Now we see the violence inherent in the system!
So we’re sitting at the bar today and this asshat starts singing. It’s a karaoke bar and he sucks so no big shakes. Then he starts dancing. The odd thing about the crazy guy was he was sitting with a group of fairly normal seeming people. But not really WITH them, but close enough to be associated, yet just outside enough to not be associated. If that makes sense.
Anyhow, this guy gets done singing some rage against the machine song and decides to start chatting up my buddy Bobby. I am ignoring what they are saying and whatnot, I just know some argument and or political debate is going on. I choose to talk to the females at our table. Then at some point this guy just chirps at the top of his idiot lungs, “That’s why capitalism sucks ass!”
Now I am a capitalist, plain and simple. Money makes the world go round and the world is still able to go round cuz of money. So I decide to chime in, in which the guy asks me how much I make an hour. I tried to explain to him that I am a true capitalist and I don’t get an hourly wage put on my time, I get paid per transaction and that if I had to put an hour:pay ratio, when I make a transaction it’s somewhere around $300/hour. Which he tried to berate me for then asked what I do, and when I told him I sell real estate he went off on some jag about how it is a god given right (then he used inalienable right without props to Jefferson I might add) that we should all be allowed to have a space. Now, without attacking the short sightedness of his argument, which is that as population grows the amount of god given space each of us has will shrink exponentially, I decided to use logic. I asked him what would stop me from wanting to take the space he has? I mean, if there’s no government, who would stop me? He said cooperation. The only thing I could do was laugh. I mean, really? Cooperation? I tried to explain to him that it is primal in human DNA to want more, be more, have more than the next guy. Why? It ensures that the alpha female will want you, and therefore your kids will be alphas. Period. More money, more land, bigger house, bigger cock, bigger deer skin, better aim, it’s all a competition for a woman. Plain and simple. Survival of the mother fucking fittest and in today’s world the man with the most money is the fittest.
He refused to see my point and told me he had a hot ass girl, who was amazing, who loved him for his mind, and that he owned no land. I immediately told him she would dump him for a millionaire and move on. This prompted the oddest downturn of any argument I’ve ever been in.
Somehow, he started spouting off about genocide and some other shit which made me laugh and ask what genocide has to do with capitalism. Fortunately he got called up to sing. Unfortunately it was the boss, “born to run”. So we’re all laughing about this guy and Bobby yells at Laura that he gave her the “help me” look. She scoffs and wonders what she could have done; he explains that she could have sat on his lap or something to interrupt. She laughs some more. We all laugh at him hoping he won’t come back for more. Then he does.
Now, just to give you a visual, picture 3 tables. Each that seat 3 people to a side. Each having a space between them so as to allow traffic between tables. So one table, 6 people yadda yadda right? So we are sitting at the middle table. On my side of the table sits Laura, then an empty chair to her right, then me. Across from me is Bobby, to his right Melissa, to her right Shana. Jackass ends up sitting to Bobby’s left, which coincidentally are where his views lay. So everyone at the table was wondering what the fuck this assburger was going to say next, and to be honest, I was a little drunk and don’t remember what he said as soon as he sat down which launched me into a fervor.
After he says word one to me, Bobby starts laughing and moves to the table to Shana’s right and sits with her laughing. All I know is there was huge debate over the companies that own mass media. He asked if I knew how many companies controlled the media, I laid out that there was turner, newscorp, aol/time warner, Viacom, and another I couldn’t remember. So I said 5. He agreed with me. This is not complementary to me. I tried to explain to him that laws of economics dictate that 5 companies will not hold them forever, that eventually diminishing returns will force a liquidation of assets that will in turn renew ownership to smaller companies and then it will build up again. It’s a cycle, like all markets. No one is on top forever. I even asked him if he’d prefer to be in Iraq, and have Al Jazeera tell him his news, or Iran and have it all government controlled or what? Cuz I would gladly pay his airfare if that were the case.
This somehow led to him saying that he’s a vegetarian and that we, as man, are vegetarians. I kindly tried to point out to him that we have incisors, bicuspids and premolars and molars. That alone, without our predatory forward facing eyes means we are inclined to eat meat. Coupled with our eyesight, and ability to use tools, and the body’s desire for protein, fats, calcium pretty much ensures any diet aside from the one we’ve used for the 10,000 years on this planet is pure new age, junk science hooey that makes me want to put a boot in your ass for not having the wherewithal to get a goddamn fact checker.
At some point when he knew I was talking down to him he told me in order to get the girl of my dreams I would have to lose some weight. I then tried to explain to him that the fattest guy in the world can get the hottest girl in the world if he has enough money. He then went on to argue something about how a girl should love you for who you are, not what you have. So I threw it in his face saying, “so a girl should love you for who you are not what you have? As long as you’re not fat? Right? I mean, those are your words. Or are you fattist?” yeah, I called the asshole fattist. And as the arguments raged on, I would pull it out every now and then when I needed a good laugh that he and his fake logic weren’t providing.
After berating said jerkoff about his junk science he launches into a global warming/ozone depletion argument. I am laughing so hard at this I can’t stand it. I am actually leaned back in my chair, laughing whole heartedly and rubbing my belly. Keep in mind this guy keeps standing up and yelling into my ear. I tell him to sit down and quit spitting on me, and I move my beer so as not to accumulate too much of his spit, you know, in case what he has is contagious.
So I look him square in the eye after he rants about ozone depletion and I tell him, the ozone layer is a naturally depleting layer that sheds itself and then replenishes VIA UV rays from the sun. Then I try to explain to him, that one singular volcanic eruption does more to damage the ozone layer than if man had cars and CFC’s from the time we crawled out of the swamp.
At this point I am laughing so hard and homeboy is now spouting nothing but eco terrorist rhetoric I had to stop him and tell him I am bored with his junk science, and bored with his arguments. I was done arguing because he had nothing to add to the conversation. I had to keep saying this to anarchy boy cuz he wouldn’t give up. He kept trying to make his point, or something else. During this whole thing Shana, Laura, Melissa and Bobby were all laughing so hard, I wish I had a camera and microphones.
Bobby, Laura, Shana, if I forgot anything, or left good funny shit out, leave it in the comments. I cannot truly capture this guy’s asshattery alone.
------
Oh yeah, after the fat comment from asshat, Melissa jumped in and confronted him about a females inability to be attracted to me and that it was pure hullabaloo. That in fact a woman could be attracted me. Later she would go on to say in her words, "I would rather have sex with you than him anyway". This was directed at me. Ok, women, if you're reading, and have EVER wondered why women and men can't communicate, here's what I heard; "I want to have sex with you, not him." There you go. Now you know.
Anyhow, this guy gets done singing some rage against the machine song and decides to start chatting up my buddy Bobby. I am ignoring what they are saying and whatnot, I just know some argument and or political debate is going on. I choose to talk to the females at our table. Then at some point this guy just chirps at the top of his idiot lungs, “That’s why capitalism sucks ass!”
Now I am a capitalist, plain and simple. Money makes the world go round and the world is still able to go round cuz of money. So I decide to chime in, in which the guy asks me how much I make an hour. I tried to explain to him that I am a true capitalist and I don’t get an hourly wage put on my time, I get paid per transaction and that if I had to put an hour:pay ratio, when I make a transaction it’s somewhere around $300/hour. Which he tried to berate me for then asked what I do, and when I told him I sell real estate he went off on some jag about how it is a god given right (then he used inalienable right without props to Jefferson I might add) that we should all be allowed to have a space. Now, without attacking the short sightedness of his argument, which is that as population grows the amount of god given space each of us has will shrink exponentially, I decided to use logic. I asked him what would stop me from wanting to take the space he has? I mean, if there’s no government, who would stop me? He said cooperation. The only thing I could do was laugh. I mean, really? Cooperation? I tried to explain to him that it is primal in human DNA to want more, be more, have more than the next guy. Why? It ensures that the alpha female will want you, and therefore your kids will be alphas. Period. More money, more land, bigger house, bigger cock, bigger deer skin, better aim, it’s all a competition for a woman. Plain and simple. Survival of the mother fucking fittest and in today’s world the man with the most money is the fittest.
He refused to see my point and told me he had a hot ass girl, who was amazing, who loved him for his mind, and that he owned no land. I immediately told him she would dump him for a millionaire and move on. This prompted the oddest downturn of any argument I’ve ever been in.
Somehow, he started spouting off about genocide and some other shit which made me laugh and ask what genocide has to do with capitalism. Fortunately he got called up to sing. Unfortunately it was the boss, “born to run”. So we’re all laughing about this guy and Bobby yells at Laura that he gave her the “help me” look. She scoffs and wonders what she could have done; he explains that she could have sat on his lap or something to interrupt. She laughs some more. We all laugh at him hoping he won’t come back for more. Then he does.
Now, just to give you a visual, picture 3 tables. Each that seat 3 people to a side. Each having a space between them so as to allow traffic between tables. So one table, 6 people yadda yadda right? So we are sitting at the middle table. On my side of the table sits Laura, then an empty chair to her right, then me. Across from me is Bobby, to his right Melissa, to her right Shana. Jackass ends up sitting to Bobby’s left, which coincidentally are where his views lay. So everyone at the table was wondering what the fuck this assburger was going to say next, and to be honest, I was a little drunk and don’t remember what he said as soon as he sat down which launched me into a fervor.
After he says word one to me, Bobby starts laughing and moves to the table to Shana’s right and sits with her laughing. All I know is there was huge debate over the companies that own mass media. He asked if I knew how many companies controlled the media, I laid out that there was turner, newscorp, aol/time warner, Viacom, and another I couldn’t remember. So I said 5. He agreed with me. This is not complementary to me. I tried to explain to him that laws of economics dictate that 5 companies will not hold them forever, that eventually diminishing returns will force a liquidation of assets that will in turn renew ownership to smaller companies and then it will build up again. It’s a cycle, like all markets. No one is on top forever. I even asked him if he’d prefer to be in Iraq, and have Al Jazeera tell him his news, or Iran and have it all government controlled or what? Cuz I would gladly pay his airfare if that were the case.
This somehow led to him saying that he’s a vegetarian and that we, as man, are vegetarians. I kindly tried to point out to him that we have incisors, bicuspids and premolars and molars. That alone, without our predatory forward facing eyes means we are inclined to eat meat. Coupled with our eyesight, and ability to use tools, and the body’s desire for protein, fats, calcium pretty much ensures any diet aside from the one we’ve used for the 10,000 years on this planet is pure new age, junk science hooey that makes me want to put a boot in your ass for not having the wherewithal to get a goddamn fact checker.
At some point when he knew I was talking down to him he told me in order to get the girl of my dreams I would have to lose some weight. I then tried to explain to him that the fattest guy in the world can get the hottest girl in the world if he has enough money. He then went on to argue something about how a girl should love you for who you are, not what you have. So I threw it in his face saying, “so a girl should love you for who you are not what you have? As long as you’re not fat? Right? I mean, those are your words. Or are you fattist?” yeah, I called the asshole fattist. And as the arguments raged on, I would pull it out every now and then when I needed a good laugh that he and his fake logic weren’t providing.
After berating said jerkoff about his junk science he launches into a global warming/ozone depletion argument. I am laughing so hard at this I can’t stand it. I am actually leaned back in my chair, laughing whole heartedly and rubbing my belly. Keep in mind this guy keeps standing up and yelling into my ear. I tell him to sit down and quit spitting on me, and I move my beer so as not to accumulate too much of his spit, you know, in case what he has is contagious.
So I look him square in the eye after he rants about ozone depletion and I tell him, the ozone layer is a naturally depleting layer that sheds itself and then replenishes VIA UV rays from the sun. Then I try to explain to him, that one singular volcanic eruption does more to damage the ozone layer than if man had cars and CFC’s from the time we crawled out of the swamp.
At this point I am laughing so hard and homeboy is now spouting nothing but eco terrorist rhetoric I had to stop him and tell him I am bored with his junk science, and bored with his arguments. I was done arguing because he had nothing to add to the conversation. I had to keep saying this to anarchy boy cuz he wouldn’t give up. He kept trying to make his point, or something else. During this whole thing Shana, Laura, Melissa and Bobby were all laughing so hard, I wish I had a camera and microphones.
Bobby, Laura, Shana, if I forgot anything, or left good funny shit out, leave it in the comments. I cannot truly capture this guy’s asshattery alone.
------
Oh yeah, after the fat comment from asshat, Melissa jumped in and confronted him about a females inability to be attracted to me and that it was pure hullabaloo. That in fact a woman could be attracted me. Later she would go on to say in her words, "I would rather have sex with you than him anyway". This was directed at me. Ok, women, if you're reading, and have EVER wondered why women and men can't communicate, here's what I heard; "I want to have sex with you, not him." There you go. Now you know.
12 December 2005
No, i do not want to be your friend. asshole.
So I check myspace again today (when will I learn) and I have a friend request from ancient tongue. I don't recognize the name so I click on the picture which takes me to the profile. Those of you who have read my past post on myspace know I instinctively went for the stop button on the music player as it was prominently displayed at load up. So I look and this asshole is from long island, and then I realize this is a band. I already knew I was going to deny the friend request, cuz let's face it, you don't dilute an elite group, I would say even sought after group, with dregs. Whatever, I’m not adding this asshole so I figure I’ll peruse the profile for a second. What I saw was pure marketing genius! if you don't know what marketing is, and your name is corky, and you spastic colon, and you think that the best way to take a picture is to the hang the camera from a string and hit it with a stick to try to make it go off. I’m talking blurry shots of the band, stupidly long list of influences (yeah we get it, you're stoners), and "action shots" of the "band" in which every single person either looks really bored, or really boring. I’m going with both. So then I see that these guys have 7778 friends. Hrmm... with that many friends they should be able to get decent venue right? I mean, just have your friends come right? WRONG! I looked at the bored/boring photos, and I noticed something. Well, many something’s. A drop ceiling, clock on the wall, stark white walls, fire extinguisher, yep, they're clearly playing in office building. Look at the door. Their equipment set up looks like it was thrown together between snacking on cheeto's and zagnuts. So after all of this I decide that if the site is this freaking awesome, then I HAVE to give the song a listen. I almost wish I hadn't hit the stop button at the very beginning; it would have made the laughable experience even better. So I press play now, and give her a listen. Simple beat, kinda contrived, stupid sound effects, then the "singing" starts. now, I’m not sure if this is something only done in "underground" but if the music behind rises and falls, albeit very slightly, shouldn't your voice do the same? I mean, yeah, it's "hip hop" sort of, but shit dude, if you weren't so bored, or boring, you might be able to emote some in your music. But it is the worst fitting, laziest sounding, most contrived crap I’ve heard in a while. R-kelly’s opera is the worst. But anyhow, these kids from long island have lyrics that are all over the place, about being a self fulfilled prophet, and something about not being able to afford a house in the hamptons. I don't know, my brain turned off after manifest destiny. Anyhow, if you think you would like ancient tongue as your friend, or if you want to laugh at the hilarity that is them, I suggest you check em out.
i got nothin.
This makes me want to see the passion of the christ.
other than that nothing fun. weekend was boring, there was almost a bar fight, i had my zippo stolen and that's about it. hooah!
other than that nothing fun. weekend was boring, there was almost a bar fight, i had my zippo stolen and that's about it. hooah!
08 December 2005
blech
Ok, so, bar tonight was good. Some lookers, some not, whatever, good conversation was had. Now, chatters is a bar I frequent. Have since I turned 21, which in about a month and half will make it 6 years. I was turned on to the place by my buddy rev, who started a year before since he is a year older. Now, between the two of us, we have managed to draw in an extraordinary amount of regulars and recurring customers. all of our friends go there, and our friends friends also go up there. Basically, I have put my spending into spreadsheets and realize I have put all of Pete's (the owner) kids through college. So tonight, I am finishing my last pitcher I am on my last glass, and I decide to move to the end of the bar to finish my last glass so that Denise can clean my table and whatnot. Bobby, my ride, was in the pisser. I am finishing my beer and Tommy, who is by all accounts an assbag, starts harassing me. I tell him I'm waiting for my ride who then come out of the bathroom, and then he tries flexing nuts with bobby. He's getting more and more stern telling bobby to go outside. Bobby has no drink, has been drinking cola for the last hour and doesn't know Tommy from Adam. So bobby looks at me, and I look at Tommy and say, "hey dude, I'm almost done, then we're outta here. I just want to finish this beer that I paid for." and tom looks at me and says, "we're illegal now, it's 2:35, get out!" to which bobby and I both look at our watches and see it's 2:20 am, I reply, "dude, it's 2:35 bartime, it's 2:20 realtime..." After which Tommy ripped my glass from my hands as I was moving it towards my mouth. he uttered something to effect of "that's it" which prompted me to yell to him, "you need to get the fuck over yourself Tommy." I mean who does that? Take a man's beer from him when there's less than half a glass left, AND he's a regular who has had your back in more than one bar fight, and had the bars back in fights in which you weren't even there?
I have never, in any bar I have ever been in, been disrespected in such a way, let alone in a bar in which I am a regular. I have had half a glass of beer left and bartenders have said,"finish that or I have to pull it." and whatnot, but I have never, had a glass ripped from my hands by some washed up reserve cop retiree and ex union piece of shit. That asshole has done nothing but piss off regulars since he's been there. I think he tried to ban me once. but when I walked in, shook the owners hand and sat down, he tried to become my best friend. Tommy can go suck a cock. If he weren't a piece of shit, you could still comment on the chatters website, which you can't since too many people were raking him over the coals. He's an asshat who just went one step too far. Sure, it was ONLY a half a glass, sure it was late, but the bar manager (terry) wasn't saying shit to me. So to Tommy I say: go fuck yourself. You ever pull a drink out of my hands again, and you'll be drinking from a straw. asswipe.
I have never, in any bar I have ever been in, been disrespected in such a way, let alone in a bar in which I am a regular. I have had half a glass of beer left and bartenders have said,"finish that or I have to pull it." and whatnot, but I have never, had a glass ripped from my hands by some washed up reserve cop retiree and ex union piece of shit. That asshole has done nothing but piss off regulars since he's been there. I think he tried to ban me once. but when I walked in, shook the owners hand and sat down, he tried to become my best friend. Tommy can go suck a cock. If he weren't a piece of shit, you could still comment on the chatters website, which you can't since too many people were raking him over the coals. He's an asshat who just went one step too far. Sure, it was ONLY a half a glass, sure it was late, but the bar manager (terry) wasn't saying shit to me. So to Tommy I say: go fuck yourself. You ever pull a drink out of my hands again, and you'll be drinking from a straw. asswipe.
07 December 2005
Last night
so it was a good night out tonight. lot's o' beer, decently hot ass twins flirting with us, me making a fool of myself fuckin flashdance style on the dance floor (i promised afore mentioned twins i would dance when they sing). other than that, not too much happened. i created a new goal in life, i was trying to decribe (to a female) that the reason she kept moving close to me was my gravitational pul; not unlike the moon to the earth. wich allowed to have a revelation: why should it be, one planet, one moon. why not, one star, MANY planets... so my object now is not to gain any mass, but to increase my specific density to the point where i can have many hot girls in orbit around me. the hottest ones will be in the tightest orbits, and the less hot ones will be somewhere outside the asteroid belt. but when their orbit brings them close... whoa baby you best have your anti preggers pills in ya cuz daddy's comin'. wow, ok, holy tangent. anyhow, hottest line of the night:
"my jaw hurts like i just gave a 2 hour blowjob."
then there were these fat nasty bitches who were screeching and howling and being just general harpies. when walking out, i delivered the line that made people look at me in horror, yet they still managed to laugh:
"man, there needs to be a 'fat girl' season so we can cull the herd."
that's all i got. i didn't have anything cool to post, so i thought i would try a drunken rambling post.
"my jaw hurts like i just gave a 2 hour blowjob."
then there were these fat nasty bitches who were screeching and howling and being just general harpies. when walking out, i delivered the line that made people look at me in horror, yet they still managed to laugh:
"man, there needs to be a 'fat girl' season so we can cull the herd."
that's all i got. i didn't have anything cool to post, so i thought i would try a drunken rambling post.
06 December 2005
some videos
What the fuck were you thinking? i mean shit, i'd have reacted the same way.
wow, people did a lot of stupid shit in the 80's. mike ditka rapping...
i have nothing to say about this. it has to be experienced.
wow, people did a lot of stupid shit in the 80's. mike ditka rapping...
i have nothing to say about this. it has to be experienced.
05 December 2005
BWAHAHAHAHAHA!
the single greatest prank i have ever seen. this one requires dedication. on a level so few actually have.
with karate i'll kick your ass
so i stumbled across a list of interesting chuck norris facts. here is a sampling of facts on the bearded asskicker.
-Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.
-Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
-A blind man once stepped on Chuck Norris' shoe. Chuck replied, "Don't you know who I am? I'm Chuck Norris!" The mere mention of his name cured this man blindness. Sadly the first, last, and only thing this man ever saw, was a fatal roundhouse delivered by Chuck Norris.
-The grass is always greener on the other side, unless Chuck Norris has been there. In that case the grass is most likely soaked in blood and tears.
-The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.
-Chuck Norris once ate three 72 oz. steaks in one hour. He spent the first 45 minutes having sex with his waitress.
-If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.
-Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.
-To prove it isn't that big of a deal to beat cancer. Chuck Norris smoked 15 cartons of cigarettes a day for 2 years and aquired 7 different kinds of cancer only to rid them from his body by flexing for 30 minutes. Beat that, Lance Armstrong.
-Chuck Norris can make a woman climax by simply pointing at her and saying "booya".
-The quickest way to a man's heart is with Chuck Norris's fist.
-Filming on location for Walker: Texas Ranger, Chuck Norris brought a stillborn baby lamb back to life by giving it a prolonged beard rub. Shortly after the farm animal sprang back to life and a crowd had gathered, Chuck Norris roundhouse kicked the animal, breaking its neck, to remind the crew once more that Chuck giveth, and the good Chuck, he taketh away.
-Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.
-Chuck Norris is 1/8th Cherokee. This has nothing to do with ancestry, the man ate a fucking Indian.
hmm... i did not know. but now, we are all a little bit wiser.
-Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried.
-Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.
-A blind man once stepped on Chuck Norris' shoe. Chuck replied, "Don't you know who I am? I'm Chuck Norris!" The mere mention of his name cured this man blindness. Sadly the first, last, and only thing this man ever saw, was a fatal roundhouse delivered by Chuck Norris.
-The grass is always greener on the other side, unless Chuck Norris has been there. In that case the grass is most likely soaked in blood and tears.
-The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.
-Chuck Norris once ate three 72 oz. steaks in one hour. He spent the first 45 minutes having sex with his waitress.
-If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can't see Chuck Norris you may be only seconds away from death.
-Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.
-To prove it isn't that big of a deal to beat cancer. Chuck Norris smoked 15 cartons of cigarettes a day for 2 years and aquired 7 different kinds of cancer only to rid them from his body by flexing for 30 minutes. Beat that, Lance Armstrong.
-Chuck Norris can make a woman climax by simply pointing at her and saying "booya".
-The quickest way to a man's heart is with Chuck Norris's fist.
-Filming on location for Walker: Texas Ranger, Chuck Norris brought a stillborn baby lamb back to life by giving it a prolonged beard rub. Shortly after the farm animal sprang back to life and a crowd had gathered, Chuck Norris roundhouse kicked the animal, breaking its neck, to remind the crew once more that Chuck giveth, and the good Chuck, he taketh away.
-Chuck Norris built a time machine and went back in time to stop the JFK assassination. As Oswald shot, Chuck met all three bullets with his beard, deflecting them. JFK's head exploded out of sheer amazement.
-Chuck Norris is 1/8th Cherokee. This has nothing to do with ancestry, the man ate a fucking Indian.
hmm... i did not know. but now, we are all a little bit wiser.
04 December 2005
Fuckin MySpace
Ok, so I have spent the last few days surfing mishaps. Why? You might ask. Well, I discovered some friends on there and decided to actually put information on my profile. So whatever, I decide to just surf, see who knows who, who knows people I know, and what not. And today I hit my breaking point. I'm gonna lay this out for everyone on mishaps: NO I DO NOT WANT TO LISTEN TO YOUR FAVORITE SONG! I don't even want to listen to your least favorite song. in fact, I don't want to HEAR anything except the TV I am watching (listening to). number one your song sucks. I have never heard of your shit ass band and I don't want to subscribe to your newsletter. Oh, what? You have a movie theme? Oh no, some obscure song from a popular artist? awww... Aren't you SOOOOOOO eccentric. Why hasn't anyone else thought of that? Oh wait, they have! Way to go! Annoying and unoriginal! assbite. Oh, if you're gonna have music on your profile, make it the first fucking thing I see so I can turn it off before it pisses me off to the point I want to shit on computer screen just on the off chance it will osmotically end up on yours. There is nothing worse than some shit ass song coming on, then you have try to scroll through a page that was formatted by a monkey riding a st. bernard who has no concept of end margins. Oh, and yeah, make sure your page isn't a 10MB load. jesus christ it's called resizing, or better yet, change the resolution. unless it's a FARK photoshop contest, I don't want to see your 10MB Myspace. God... assholes.
03 December 2005
It's like the beavis and butthead no laughing episode.
i can't come up with words for this one. i am having convulsing fits as i am listening and laughing to this. you have to watch, cuz the aside at the begining is killer... oh god... oh god... GOLD I TELL YOU! GOLD!
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