Wednesday, January 30, 2008

new product?

My brother and I were talking and decided that some common items could be made better by adding sound effects. Take an axe for example. Somebody that uses it for its intended purpose probably isn't having a lot of fun with it, but with added sound effects it could be lots of fun. We want to find an economical way to add a soundboard and speaker to the handle of an axe so that when you swing it and it hits a tree, the tree screams in pain and agony. Just think, you'd be able to feel as though your causing horrible murderous pain, all while gathering firewood in a perfectly legal manner. The same could be done for heavy punching bags, but that's just adding to the already logical fun.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Good day, better alcohol induced evening




I'm practicing before the big game to ensure a high level of obnoxiousness. After my magnificent Weinermobile morning I proceeded to have one of the best days off-- ever. I went to a record store (as most people know, I could stay in a record store for hours). Then I went home and picked up my wife where we went out without children to Westgate, the development here in AZ that also has the University of Phoenix stadium - Home to the shitty Arizona Cardinals and Super Bowl XLII. We went to Bar Louie which had just opened that night, and found great drink specials. I spent the evening drinking $3 Newcastles. I had to work the next day, but that night my wife and I went back to Westgate, where we made sure to hit up Margaritaville.
Here's my opinion of Margaritaville. It's overrated and overpriced. I had a couple of there house beers and they were tolerable. I made sure to leave my comment card filled out with random suggestions such as; "I really dig the midget chick sitting at the bar, do you think she'd do me?" and, "For as much money as you spent on this place, you'd think that you wouldn't find used condoms in the bathroom". Like I said, I'm being an asshole for practice.


So then we went to The Yard House. For folks unfamiliar with this place, it's a godsend. Over 125 different beers on tap. I started with Shiner Bock, and then rounded out the night with Franciskaner Hefe Weiss. I really like beer. My wife made me drink her dirty martini, since she wasn't gonna finish it herself. That shit was vile. I had to have another beer to wash the taste out. The beer was great but our server was some college frat boy douche bag with way too much product in his hair and not enough sense in his head. I left him an old condom under our plate for a tip.


Our last stop for the night was a fruity wine place called Sweet-O. I'm guessing it's called that because after you get your old lady plastered you'll be able to give her a sweet O when you bang her out at the house. But I digress. My old lady likes wine, so that's where we went. I do not like wine, so I was apprehensive. But after we sat at the bar and I expressed my hatred of wine, the wine jockey offered me a beer list. Ah, Sweet Redemption. So I pounded a couple of Smithwick Oatmeal Stouts. If you've never had an oatmeal stout, imagine drinking an entire meal made of alcohol and mud, but delicious. We met some weird wine lover / beer lover there that seemed to have some kind of "I'm gay but I like chicks" type of vibe, but by this time I was far too drunk to give a shit. We stayed til last call and I crawled back to the car, spinning and hoping not to puke. I didn't vomit. Then when we got home my wife gave me some lovin'.
Mission accomplished.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

My awesome morning


I walked down the way with my wife and her friend to return movies and grab breakfast and what do I see in front of our neighborhood Fry's grocery store? Only the sweetest surprise for my day off ------ The Oscar Meyer Weinermobile!!!!






And of course, being the kid I am, I had to take pictures of it and with it. So this is how I spent the morning on my Day off.








I was told that when the Wienermobile was in Chicago it was fined for where they chose to park. Apparently the parking area could not accomodate it's size and it caused an obstruction.













Isn't that awesome, the driver could actually tell somebody he was forced to move his weiner because it was just too big and long.

Then they gave me a Weiner whistle and a Weiner key chain.






What a perfect morning.







Wednesday, January 23, 2008

So you want others to accept you?

Try this:

When trapped in an awkward situation at work or a party, laugh very loud and for no apparent reason. Somebody around you will also start laughing. It's contagious. People have no fucking clue why your laughing, but they feel the need to join in, thus avoiding the slight chance that there's a joke they're not aware of and didn't get, but they don't want to be singled out.

Times not to do this:

1. Church
2. When pulled over by a cop
3. If your visiting a friend or relative at a mental hospital
4. As the doctor walks in

8 months



That was the amount of time my brother spent looking at his genitalia daily. In total paranoia. Because he had sex with a female he believed to be dirty. He swore to god that the cold sore on his lip around Thanksgiving time was pure sex transferredherpes. He swore that she was a filthy whore and that he knew deep in his heart that he'd grow a love blister on his dick. But it just never happened. He's been checked at the clinic three times, no spore growing in his ding dong.





On the other hand, a close relative of mine went to the emergency room last month. I got a call at work telling me he was in the hospital, that he had been rushed there from the Urgent care clinic. I jammed out of work thinking it was an accident and he was hurt. Nope. As I later learned, he had a bump on his dilweenis and had gone to Urgent Care to get it checked. While there the doc decided to lance it, and shit shot all over the place. The amount of nastiness got him sent to the actual emergency room. I told him that he should get checked for VD and he said that it wasn't necessary. He claimed it was a blister caused by constant sex friction, and to this I say "bullshit". I've jacked off so much before that I've rubbed my dick raw, but never have I caused a blister. Well, ladies, if your reading this, make sure to check your man's cock for a strange scar on the side; it could prevent the spread of the magical "sex friction" disease.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Morale = Energy or The conservation of Morale

There is a theory that energy can not be created, nor destroyed. It can only be transferred between two or more carriers or circumstances. This theory intrigued many of us in Iraq. We were able to use this theory to formulate our own ideas based in cynicism. We called it the "conservation of morale".*

Simply put, morale is just like energy. It can not be created, nor destroyed, but can be transferred between personnel and kept at a constant level amount. Here's how it worked.

At any given time, somebody in the squadron (or platoon, depending on who we were assigned to at the time) was in a good mood, while others were having a shitty day. If we were having a shitty day, we would find the individual that was overly chipper and positive. We would then start to chip away at him with verbal jabs and put downs until he felt like shit, and this in turn would lighten our moods and bring our morale up. Hence, the direct correlation. We did not create morale, or destroy it, we simply took the deplorable excess that one individual had and divided it among the walking miserable. A perfect balance was kept, and all was right in the world.

*let it be known that I did not create this theory, it was spread collectively through our convoy units and it is unknown who the actual creator is.

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Never get a 2nd chance to make a 1st impression

Wow, does this ever ring true for one of my wifes friends. You see, she just went to Chicago recently to meet her fiance's family for the first time, and day one didn't go so well.



They showed up on Christmas eve and stayed up that night drinking red wine. Her future in laws went to bed because they had to go into their respective offices for a few hours first thing the next morning. But her and her man decided to keep drinking the night away. This was ----


Mistake #1.


Out of the clear blue with absolutely no prior warning, she vomited. No dry heaves, no watery mouth, nothing. She puked red wine all over the... ready for this.... WHITE CARPET!!! Her man worked for an hour and a half cleaning that up so his parents wouldn't notice. When he was done, he carried her up to bed since she was too drunk too walk.



Around 8 a.m. the next morning she woke up whining to reveal.......



Mistake # 2


She moaned and whined to him "I think I pee'd the bed". This proved true. She had pissed herself that night from being so drunk. The description I got was that it had soaked from her side of the bed through the sheet and toward his feet. Her fiance told her take off your pants, and she told him "I can't". He told her, "your not even trying", and started to help her pull them down when she looked over and told him, "oh my god, I gotta poop!" He yelled for her to hurry up, which led to -.-.-.-.-.-.-.


Mistake #3


After saying, "hurry up", she answered, "It's too late!". She had already started shitting and had sprayed it onto his leg. She jumped up and started running around the room, with shit that was the consistency of paste coming out of her ass and splitting around her thong underwear. Dookie got all over the bed, the carpet, the walls, and the door. She grabbed a gift bag and tried to scoop her dookie into it and catch it coming out of her butt hole.


I was told that they spent the entire morning cleaning up the mess and finished just before the parents got home. Talk about lucky.


Well, maybe sometimes you do get a second chance.






Thursday, January 3, 2008

Upset reader.

RABIYAH SPEEDE said...
YOUR BOTH FUCKING STUPID TUPAC WAS THE FUCKING BEST RAPPER POET EVER SO YOU GUYS NEED TO SHUT THE FUCK UP. YOU DUMB BITCHES!!!!!!! N WHO EVER WROTE THE LIL SHIT ABOUT HIM SAYING HE DOESN'T NO WHERE HE'S FROM YOU NEED TO SHUT THE FUCK UP I DON'T NO WHY YOUR TALKING LIKE YOU NO HIM FOR WHY YOU GOING TO TALK THAT SHIT FOR YOUR NO WHERE CLOSE TO BE WHAT HE WAS U'LL NEVER GET AS KNOWN AS HE WAS SO U NEED 2 JUDGE URSELF B4 U JUDGE NE 1 ELSE YOU DUMB BITCH AND THATS COMING FROM HIS NUMBER 1 FAN
24 December, 2007 19:56




To this all I can really say is.... Wow!!! That really pissed you off. Tell me, did you know him personally? Because if you didn't then you should learn how to form an argument instead of popping off at the lip. Let me teach you a little word called hipocrisy. It doesn't mean the love of hip hop either.

hypocrisy:
1.
insincerity by virtue of pretending to have qualities or beliefs that you do not really have.


You're pretty quick to talk about myself and the other poster because we talked about Tupac. Here's my example directly from the quote above.

"SO U NEED 2 JUDGE URSELF B4 U JUDGE NE 1 ELSE YOU DUMB BITCH "

How are you gonna preach about judging ourselves before somebody else and then you immediately judge us. For Shame.

Now with that done, I'm not gonna call you quick to judge, but I will say that you suffer from pre-mature ejaculation of the mouth. Opinions are just that asshole --- opinions. Learn to deal with it. You may be his number one fan, but if he were alive, you'd probably also be his number one stalker. So go and masturbate to his poster while listening to "Keep ya Head up" and hope that your dad doesn't interrupt your next viewing of "Juice" for that special "daddy and son time" that always makes you cry.

Or better yet. Don't live your life for a dead rapper. Enjoy the music, get a job, and move out of your parents house.