Let's get southern drunk...

The other day a friend of mine got what I like to call: Batshit Blackout. This made me think about a few things. Given where I live - Charleston, SC - (the most beautiful place on earth) I began realizing what it means to get all swamp-donkey up in this bitch.

For the Southern Belle, all is forgiven after your walk of shame. For girls in Charleston, if you can manage to find your pearl earrings... you simply put them back on and you look like a classy gutter slut mess. It is so easy to give off the essence of dignity and sophistication long after you lost it in the Cooper River after a sex time session on the boat of some millionaire that it's captain took out for the night. It's something that may be tired and trite... But who can ever get tired of a boat that you don't own, maintain, and have to drive?

Other times I have found that this particular breed ends up in handicapped bathrooms with randoms for lengthy periods of time. This behavior leads to my cell phone blowing up around 10am with questions about who was blown. But it's OK. Why? Because in the South, we go to brunch the next morning. Get sauced on Mimosas, and do it all over again. That is why it is forgiven. Just because you did something questionable last night does not mean that anyone will remember it the next weekend. However, if you managed to hitchhike your way home from the strip club, perform fellatio on a sea turtle, sing anything in public from Lady Gaga, and sleep under a Ryder truck; this may not be overlooked.

For guys its all the same. Why? Because we are so technologically advanced. We know to delete text and call history after we manage to open one bloodshot eye. That means it never happened right? That means we wont even acknowledge the girl (or guy - not judging) the next night.

But here is what I am saying: Why not? Who gives a shit. We are all a bunch of borderline alcoholics that do insipid things under the influence of vodka and glue. So the next time you go out and have a several too many, just try not to drive. Everything else is usually fine. Except trannies. Try and avoid those.

Sounds Like 2am To Me...

Things sometimes kind of don't fly within my radar... But when someone donkey punches my Big Mac, I take issue.

Apparently Mayor McCheese and Ronald McDonald met late one evening in a glory hole and they came (haha) up with this culinary abortion. I mean, they could have at least put some sesame seeds on it. Look at this. Gaze deep into it. Are you weeping like a school girl after daddy touched you in your no-no squares? This one really made me pat my weave. Yes, you are getting two all beef (probably kangaroo meat) patties, special sauce (we've been over this before), lettuce, cheese (government), pickles, onions on a PIECE OF SHIT! The Big Mac... It's a staple that does not deserve this kind of treatment. Although, when you are driving and are completely special SAUCED, I imagine this form of Big Mac is ideal. But at least I wait to get home or jail before I dine on such epicurean delights. What Mayor McFuckstick and Ronald McBlowme need to figure out are a few key elements. First, "Our credit card machine is down." Excuse me, I call bullshit. I can understand if Ray Ray is coming by later and you need to make sure that you have the appropriate level of Sol Glow on. But come on! I'm willing to bet this problem never arises at a Waffle House. Betty and Donna are there all night for you while you make bedroom eyes at your T-Bone. And they give you a chocolate milk after you have smothered and covered the restroom. Second, if I want a McFlurry - why are the machines always broken? Look, I get you don't want to make it. I know you are just finishing up giving a dude a McFlurry in the freezer (adds stamina), but come on! I'll make it, just hand me some of those gloves and a hairnet. By the time I'm done with that place it will be so busy, you will have to hire the B list. And by that I mean some sort of prison release employer program. Look, I haven't worked out the funding but Obama has been making all these promises. Lastly, and this is on a whole different level of fast food in general... Who on planet Earth (this excludes Tom Cruise, the Real Housewives of Atlanta, and this guy) uses but one packet of ketchup? I mean, other than an Olsen twin... Bottom line, Mr McDonald - you are going in the wrong direction, sir. Instead of having meetings at rest areas, maybe you should listen to your public and stop hocking that damned McRib all the time. And by the way, bring back Grimace. He cannot be your dungeon bear sex slave anymore!

Funny People - should have been named Melodramatic Motherfuckers.

Always the sucker for alliteration... Anyway -

Perhaps I walked in thinking it would be another great from Judd Apatow or perhaps I thought I was going to see a funny movie, because FUNNY was in the title... OR perhaps the term "dramedy" was not in the shit trailer...

Look, I typically am no authority on movies. I mean, White Chicks is one of my favorite films EVER. But sir's and ma'am's - I fucking know comedy, even if I am laughing by myself.

The story premise had the best of intentions. A handful of rising comedians, a veteran (Sandler) and promises of Sarah Silverman telling jokes related to the crotch. OH, and a personal favorite... Leslie Mann!

I got about 40 whole minutes before asking myself, "Is this shit ever going to pick up - or should I just go ahead and pour me another mimosa without pressing that temperamental pause button?" I did, and then watched the rest in its entirety (bringing bottle of choice Andre with).

The story does not really get off the ground as quickly as most viewers would expect. Like, Sandler takes forever to cock-slap Leslie Mann. Typically I would not mind this if the story was entertaining from the get-go, but this was like driving behind an Ohio tourist on Labor Day without A/C and a cassette tape featuring Milli Vanilli stuck on "Girl You Know It's True."

Sandler in the film seems like he is 400 years old. I guess I can no longer really be expecting another Waterboy or some other cinematic genius, but what I can expect is for him to at least act like he is not on self prescribed Lithium from a Canadian pharmacy. He is playing the role of a sick person, but it mirrors the same character in Spanglish. Even featuring a tap dancing Mexican leprechaun troll tranny in this movie would have not made it any better.

Look, I'm not going to spoil it for you - that is wiki's / IMDB's job. But it does have an ending. A stupid fucking ending, but an ending none the less. I finally got to stop watching and take my usual Sunday afternoon bubble bath featuring pirated episodes from American Dad. One day I may get electrocuted, but as some readers know - my hair looks like that on any morning rolling of someones sofa.

Everyone have a great Sunday Funday. And remember, dental dams are not just a suggestion.

DROP YOUR PANTS!

The other day I was leaving a July 4th party when I received the following text message:

"Currently sans pants watching Lockup..."

I went home and immediately took off mah pants and settle in to watch Lockup. Only one problem, fucking Palin decided to resign. It's times like these that Lockup does not need to be on MSNBC, but on Nickelodeon.

So over the course of a few drunken evenings and hungover days, I have comprised a list (with the help of a few special fuckers) of things that are just more enjoyable without pants!

In no particular order...

1. Mop (because why not? Careful not to get MOP & GLOW on your no-no.)
2. Smoke a pipe (preferably not one used for smoking crack or Raid.)
3. Snowboard (Just don't Sonny Bono that shit.) BTW, Chastity is becoming Chaz...
4. Video Chat (just not with your mother or parole officer.)
5. Work with clay (because those bongs don't make themselves.)
6. *Watch Lockup (Raw or Extended Stay, doesn't matter.)
7. Directing traffic (I would advise against this in certain countries, but if you are looking to get three meals a day, shelter, and all the fisting that Big Mike can give - feel free.)
8. Judging people (it says to the victim, yeah - I don't have on pants. But your face looks like someone implanted 9 Blackberry Pearls in it.)
9. Blogging or reading other blogs (I mean I'm not wearing pantaloons now... Are you?)
10. Go on a carriage ride (If lady Godiva can spread her Britney all over a stallion, who are you to be wearing pants in the backseat?)
11. Eat Sloppy Joes (well, I mean you are gonna get that shit everywhere anyway. Actually go ahead and eat that in the bathtub or gutter. Whichever you call home.)
12. Have sex (we aren't in middle school anymore.)
13. Paint a picture with your genitalia / ass (Valentines Day comes just once a year.)
    

I was going to post a list of celebrities that have not died...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

BIRTHDAY SEX

Yesterday was my birthday... AND I'M STILL CELEBRATING!

Be back with you tomorrow, er - afternoon.

Your move, Vince the ShamWow asshat.

Billy Mays 1958 - 2009

WTF America?

Who is next? Wilford Brimley? I do not want to live in a world without him...

Details as I get them. It has been confirmed that he was not taking a lethal dose of Oxy Clean.

Three and three quarter stars, motherfucker.

In light on Farrah Fawcett and MJ - we also need to pay respect to grandpa McMahon. A couple of things to highlight: Fighter pilot in WWII (eventually retiring with a rank of Colonel) His ancestors had a hand in the making of something called mayonnaise, was the sidekick on the Tonight Show, STAR SEARCH, Publishers Clearing House, and most recently... Ca$h For Gold.

During the last years of his life, he suffered a broken neck, mold poisoning, and some bone cancer. Really?! Like what in the fuck in his past life was he? Meanwhile, he seemed to accrue a lot of debt. I think it had to do with his wife and an up and down motion with a Platinum Amex. But we may never know.

Well then his home was going to go into foreclosure and then out of the combovers, emerged Donald Trump. Better known by his Christian Science name, Quackers McGoesbankrupteverytwoyears. He offered to buy the home and lease it to McMahon. Yeah, thanks asshole - Why not just buy it. You clearly have the money (today). Well, that deal fell through and shortly after, gramps went into the hospital for a while.

Ultimately, Ed parted ways with us earlier this week. It was said to be predominately due to bone cancer. But pappy is in Heaven now, giving big checks to all sorts of motherfuckers. He came to St. Peter's golden gate with giant check and pen in hand. I mean, the check bounced - but God paid the overdraft fee. Mr. McMahon, you will be missed sir. FOUR STARS!

M J and a LNDP!

So everyone is talking about it. I have even been listening to terrestrial radio - and it's all about Michael Jackson. At night, on my way to the bar - I scope out radio stations playing his music, like most others.

When news broke, I called my mother. Why? Because it was as if a family member died. The kind of family member that you probably did not want to be alone with for any lengthy period - but nonetheless...

What is undeniable is that the motherfucker had a great talent. The only thing that I can say about his death is that in some small way, it comes as a relief. Dude has been battling his demons for years. It's doubtful that he would have ever made any more music that would have made a mark on the global scale that he did in the 70s, 80s, and 90s.

But that is what is to be remembered. His iconic style of music. There has been no one before or ever will be after. That is why when you are on your 7th vodka, you turn to your bartender and say... "Sir, would you kindly put on some old school MJ so that I can rock my nuts out."

So, on a more serious post... MJ is gone. No doubt to his hyperbolic chamber in the sky. Too bad Bubbles is still alive. That little chimp bitch. So, everyone this week, have a Late Night Dance Party and a shot of Jesus Juice for the late, great, Michael Jackson.

Michael Jackson 1958-2009

Currently jamming out to this CLASSIC... Michael Jackson and Eddie Murphy.

I'm letting the news sink in while watching BET (because it doesn't matter if you're black or white)

More batshit to follow. Stay Tuned.

YouTube of the day: AIDS (SFW)

This is something I found whilst using stumbleupon.

It's an advert screened in some land called "Australia" circa 1987. I do not think the original intent was supposed to be funny. But the baby at the end is my favorite part.

Video here.

Forgot to mention...

Because I am fighting a hangover and a sudden urge to drink - I forgot to say...

The site can now be accessed at www.batshittery.com

So there. Expect T-Shirts not to follow.

Downtime, meaning I'm terrible at technology...

Alright, I finally bit the bullet - I now am the owner of the 'batshittery' domain.

It was terribly expensive - and by that I mean it was around $10. Who knew no one wanted that name? I mean, google refused to host it. That is terrible.

Meanwhile, I will now be posting more frequently. So, be prepared to get your daily fix of my batshit nutsness.

In the meantime, visit this site, its a friend of mine - and a fellow crazy person.

Happy Tuesday motherfuckers.

"Did you see 24 last night?"

In the words of Americas hero, Whitney Houston, HELL TO THA NO!

Today I would like to focus my attention on shows that apparently everyone watches that I do not. I would like to offer my expert opinion a few shows that I have never seen. So if by some chance you are sitting around one day and decide to shove a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's (that whore) pancake sauce in your blowhole and flip on the TV to see what these shows are about, then read on...

24.
From what I can surmise based solely on commercials and a glazed over wiki sesh, this program seems to be the most, absolute, waste of airtime imaginable. However, I kind of understand why Americans and illegal Mexican immigrants like it. It is for the folks with ADD. From what I can gather, it looks as if the episode is supposed to capture all of the events that happen in a 24 hour period. So, in watching 15 minutes of it with a good buddy of mine the other day, I found out the dynamics of the show. Once, every week, for only a day - the world burns down as the result of a force from God. Yes, you see God is testing Keifer Sutherland. He is his bitch. God makes something go terribly wrong for a day and it is up to Queef to save the day. I noticed something else too. You know how he whispers in a loud tone for "dramatic effect?" That is because God has him on one of those child leashes. It's choking the dog shit out of him. But you know he loves it.

Lost.
It's where you would be if you just started watching. So I think it is something like Gilligan's Island without that demonic radio. And while we are at it, in all that time, why did they not figure out how to build canoes? Don't the pigmy people still use those or something? Meanwhile, I do not understand Lost. So maybe there was a plane crash or something? Um, let me think... There is something called a flight plan. There is the FAA. And I think by now, as a largely civilized world, our cartographic efforts would have left no stone unturned. So where is this Island? I think it's in the middle of a gigantic volcano located directly in L. Ron Hubbard's asshole. You see that kids? Lost is just Scientology. You are one step away from jumping on a sofa and making the rest of the world hate you.

Grey's Anatomy.
Look at the title. How does that even sound like something you want to watch? Unfortunately, this is a show that I actually have seen a couple of episodes a few years ago. I am friends with these girls that, before the bar, had to watch that fucking - wannakillyourselfwithamercuryfilledsalmon - fuckery. American people have a false sense of reality when it comes to programs like this. If you think about it... American people must all be either Doctors, Nurses, Murses, Janitors, Patients, or Dead People. There are so many hospital related shows on television, it leaves little room for other types of jobs. Like say, Amish Methmaker, Geriatric Bodystocking Model, Cameltoe Operator, and Professional Nail Polish Taster. This show, based around one person, is why it is failing at the moment. Centered around that one bitch with the spooky eyes, that gets no headlines. She is as boring as her weave. Media keeps reporting on Katherine Heigl and T.R. FingerblastmeatKnight. Will they leave the show? Who knows? Lets NOT watch.

Jon and Kate Plus 8 Minus 1 or 2 Plus a Stem-cell.
This is another show that is buzzing after a huge ratings surge. The media cannot seem to shut the fuck up over this massive family. First OctoVagina, now this shit. What is the obsession with over spermination these days? Bitch used fertility treatment to get herself all big as shit. Now, when people had that many kids when I was younger - they were called Catholic. Now they are called Angelina Jolie. Meanwhile, I get why their marriage is on the outs these days. THEY HAVE EIGHT FUCKING KIDS. I mean, would you not put a gun in your mouth when they all got Chicken Pox? Think about taking them to the grocery store... Or even worse, Neverland. Also, what is the hedgehog that is growing out of the back of her skull? If I were Jon, I would have quit that bitch from her first walk-in appointment at Great Clips.

Update: Apparently 24 is coming out with a movie. Are they going to call it 48?

...Like it's going out of style.

I noticed the other day that there are a lot of things that either are, or should be going out of style. I would like to start with the fading trend of the rape van. The rape van was something popularized by the musical group Soul Asylum with their "hit" Runaway Train.

I used to watch this video when I was little and actually become scared. There was never any closure. They needed to update. Where are the missing children? Were they, in fact, raped? Or were they just lead to a van with candy and taken off to Disney world or the Nickelodeon studios? Perhaps they are alive today and write for Dora The Explorer. The world may never know... But there is something to be said about a rape van...

To the owners who have a rape van and do not intend on using it for rape, why do you still have this van? Were you a rapist in the past and realized the error of your ways? Do you hold on to the nostalgia of rapes past? This is not good. It will only lead you to an impending rapepath.

Other uses of rape vans are acceptable. Such as: Mexican transport, discount carpet warehouse (Samantha Ronson), methamphetamine laboratories, recession-proof homes, and when you visit home and there is no where to bang the girl down the street and for some reason you still have one parked in the driveway - leaking oil. Because when the rape van's a knockin' mom, mah dirty laundry is in the trunk of mah car. Mind the traveler of Smirnoff. That's for me.

This lead me on to think of other things that are going out of style. Like dial-up modems. Remember in 1995-1996 when you called your best friend down the street? The line was busy all fucking day. Why? His cunt of a mother left the fucking modem on and they did not have a separate line. What the fuck was she doing? Looking at 14k interweb porn? Updating her geocities account? I wanted to go play paintball with Jesse and I was to lazy at that time to walk down four houses. I'm still pissed!

But seriously, for those who still have Net Zero and Juno, kindly take a walk to your nearest rape van and go fuck yourself.

OPEN POST: Crazy Dumb Ho.

Sorry the updates have been lacking in the past week... I have actually been a little busy at my "job." But listen motherfuckers, I gots bar tabs to pay for. Those things are not always cheap, especially when you drunkenly sign outrageous tips for $100,000. That's right. I'm fucking George Bernard Shaw loaded.

Anyway, last night started off strange and ended stranger, all at the helm of several dumb crazy hos. I ventured downtown and picked up a good buddy from work - since his car is in the shop - no doubt because of one too many bone sessions in the back seat. That's right kids. Too much crotch slamming will fuck up a transmission.

So after the pick up, we venture to another friend's house. Where I proceed to dine on a cold Bud Light. Then the clouds started to position themselves all Mary Poppins like and BOOM the Earth opened and out popped two dumb bitches. If the Greenwood, SC accents were not bad enough, both had the intelligence of a small retarded child that was buried in Pet Cemetery.

The duo, who we will call Tittaydunks and Aeropostale, walked up the stairs and started screaming when approached by a dog. Because that is what is appropriate behavior when arriving in someones home, whom you have never met. It's like they walked in on Michael Myers sewing up a whole in his sock caused by bunion rubbing. What happeded next, I had no words for. Yeah. Me. Tittaydunks looked out the window onto the balcony where people were smoking cigs and exclaimed, "Are they in the garage or is that outside." WOW. I immediately texted this sentence to my friend who was out on the balcony. Time went on and I was becoming increasingly annoyed with the duo. I was trying to watch Best Week Ever, and I could not hear Paul F. Fucking Tompkins to save my life. Then I picked up the TiVo remote and speed through the commercial. "I wish mah TV had a fast forward button." Exclaimed Aeropostale. I had to check my surroundings to figure out if Britney Spears had suddenly walked in the room. She might as well have said, "Every month blood comes from my no-no and I went to the doctors and they said I needed a Maxi Pad." "I dont need all that fancy Maxi products, so I went to CVS and got the discount pads." "Those things work just as well as the pricey Post-It's."

Then after the duo of dense took the hint and left, we ventured to the bar. You know, THE bar, as if there is only one. It can have a parade all by itself. While we were there, most things were normal. The music was too loud, some dumb 18 year old girl ordered a vodka cranberry and exclaimed, "I can't taste the vodka." - and someone was undoubtedly pissing all over the handicapped bathroom floor.

We get in the car, and head back home... Only from my rearview, I notice two extra people... But thought, hell - this car is only going 2 blocks so they will have to get out there regardless. Turns out they were with us. Who knew? So after we go out to the balcony, yes the same balcony. Not the garage... We proceed to tell the ballad of Tittaydunks and Aeropostale... After 2 sentences, this crazy dumb ho, who we will call Satanginey McWhatthefuck, pulls some exorcist shit. Her head spun around 2,000 times, vomit was everywhere, the dog killed himself (drowned head in water dish), the streets flooded, someone down the block sacrificed a microwaved Teenage Mutant Nija Turtle action figure, and the gates of Hell opened. She then stormed out swimming through a stream of piss that my buddy provided from the balcony above.

The entire room had no idea what just happened. Apparently she thought that we were talking shit about her. By telling her a story of two dumb hos from hours before?! I guess takes one to know one... Then takes a drunk one to get all batshit nuts.

Then she pulled the, "I think I was roofied last night." To quote a friend, WHO WOULD WASTE A ROOFIE ON HER? If this is what the summer is going to shape up to be, I am going out with a hazmat suit, a crucifix, bottle of Pamprin, Holy vodka (its blessed by this Russian guy), and a cyanide tablet.

Swine Flu, it's like Bird Flu... but for KIDS!

So my weekend is officially over. But rather than my usual regrets, ie: waking on some unsuspecting / highly questionable sofa, taking a spill in the handi, or throwing a syruped pancake on a staff member of Waffle House... This weekend I resent pork. Yes the other white meat.

After I had gorged myself on ham at 3am, ordered a basket of bacon for brunch the next day, and then topped that off with what I can only describe with using a swimming pool for a measuring cup of pork fried rice... I learned that Babe left whatever crack den he was nosing about in and gave motherfuckers some Swine Flu. Swine Flu?!?! That sounds dirty. So now I feel dirty. Like the kind of dirty that needs a rape kit and a lollipop.

After a quick wikipedia search on what the fuck this is... I looked at the symptoms.
According to the CDC, they are:

• Fever (withdrawal)
• Cough (tobacco)
  
• Sore Throat (I'm not judging)
• Body Aches (random bruise or scratch from falling off the stool)
• Headache ("I'll have another, and a Rumple - 2 ways)
• Chills (waking up in the shower with it on)
• Diarrhea (Asian chicken and vodka cokes will send you home early from the bar)
• Vomiting ("I bet you can't...")

So, as you can see by my scholarly review of these "symptoms" - this is a nightmare. Think of all of the people in America right now just thinking they are hungover. They may have no idea that they have got the pork AIDS. I found out that I do not have it, thankfully. Or at least that is what my First Response told me.

How could Babe do this to us? It was all because of a little movie called Babe 2: Pig in the City. Mother. Fucker. Though I should have already been suspect back in 1998... It turns out that this film was banned in Malaysia. And only in Malaysia. Which tells me that they knew something, other than making a cheap garment or nicknack through forced child labor.

No one liked that movie. And I know why. Its a movie about a pig that goes to the big city. Spoiler Alert... shit goes wonkey and in the end its all butterflies and moonpies. Not today. Just look at the poster. There Babe is with his suitcase... Duh. Hes clearly coming from Mexico to infect us with the piggy pig plague. And wouldn't you know it... There is a web-footed heaping load of Bird Flu that is with him. I knew they were in cahoots.

I am glad to report, however... Swine Flu is not transmitted sexually. If this were the case I imagine the movie title would be something like, Babe 2: Pig in tha Pussay!

There's only 24 hours in a day...

I have an inside joke with a friend about this person that seems to always be busy. The joke just will not become old, find its way to a state-run retirement home, and slowly die.

Since we are both at work, our gchat's keep us from putting our heads in the oven. So today we came up with several things that our busy friend could be doing even as I write this.

(names have been changed to protect the innocently busy)

Enjoy...

He's breast feeding Arabian orphans who's parents died in fatal magic carpet rides.

He is actually out in the field right now, uncovering DNA evidence that will exonerate Timothy McVehy from the Oklahoma City Bombing. Also, since he was executed, He has been taking classes, to convert to Buddhism so that when McVehy comes back as a single-celled crustacean in Panama, he can then be retried and his name can be cleared.

He is currently being blown by the East wind to Number Seventeen Cherry Tree Lane, London and into the Banks' household to care for their children.

He currently holds office as senior Pooper Scooper for the Greater London Old English Sheepdog Club. The aim of the Greater London Old English Sheepdog Club is to promote the responsible ownership and breeding of the Old English Sheepdog.’ They hold regular shows and offer advice on training, grooming and diet.

He is currently working as inspector number 39 at the dice factory. Where he inspects for lopsidedness, blemishes, seven-sidedness and any other dice imperfections for casinos.

When he was in east Tibet... No doubt trying to free it, he took on the dubious task of bee-keeping. He would then use the honey he got from the bees to power his self-made motorbike en lieu of burning gasoline. For that he won the Nobel Prize but was unable to attend the ceremony due to a conflict he was having on the Red Phone with former President Reagan and his wife, Nancy.

He actually just left for his bi-weekly class on the behaviors and attitudes of Northern Wombats when introduced to music of the 1920s, before the Great Depression. After he will be giving a lecture on the Hubble Space Telescope concerning the accuracy of the lens used. This lecture will be given in both Japanese and American Sign Language, simultaneously.

The most beautiful thing in the world

Today I decided to take a moment out of my normal posting of vagina, sexually transmitted diseases (Lohan) and general douchebaggery. That is right. I decided to pay a little bit of homage to none other than the Big Mac. Few know where the Big Mac started. I have all the information you are not looking for.

The Big Mac was invented by God. It was his next, largely unquoted second statement, "Let there be Big Mac, too... Now I know what you are thinking... How could this be possible? Well friends it is the work and words of God. Don't question it. When it was brought to the mainstream in the early 1950s, Mother Teresa herself invented special sauce. Well, with all of that no-sex and stuff, she had a lot of mayonnaise and time. The secret is locked with her in her tomb as we speak. We shall never know what it really is. Though later, after spending billions, Larry Flint concocted something now known as Thousand Island Dressing. It is close, but only half way. Kind of like Larry, being that he cannot use his legs. It's ironic (don't you think)

Now the Big Mac was originally to be called “The Aristocrat” or the “Blue Ribbon Burger,” though those equally retarded names did not stick. Perhaps the special sauce did not yet have the quantity of seamen that it has in today's market.

While the Big Mac is the source of Asian morbid obesity, it is nonetheless delicious. You see Big Mac's are actually laced with black tar heroin. That is what has come to be known as, "the good shit." It drives people in to order them at ridiculous times of day / night. When I am batting 1,000... I sometimes fancy a 3am drive to the local McDonalds. We argue about their credit card machine being broken until we reach some sort of agreement. Which usually ends in me cutting a bitch and driving off with my delicious bag of goodness.

So today, here's to you Big Mac. Because I am still tasting / burping you up from my consumption of you last night. You are delicious and can never be replaced. Though sometimes the line may be long to get to you, especially when you have to get out of the car to piss on a bush, you are well worth the wait. And no. I will not settle for that "fourth meal" FUCKERY from the Taco Bell.

OPEN POST: Hipsters...

Today I was minding my own business attempting to be some sort of useful at work. After I realized that was going to be filed in the Fiction section of a crazed bookmobile drivers pedophile past - I was sent this magical link. So here's to you Coble. Keep scouring the interweb while you are "working."

Link listed below:

Hipster Douches...

While you aren't dick deep in a stumbleupon sesh...

Weezy shares his words of wisdom on sexy times... Dlisted

It would appear Obama's new dog is also half black... TMZ

Katie Holmes is searching for those lost Christmas presents too... TheSuperficial

Get Back In Your Cage!

I know. It has been a long time coming, but here it is. Lindsay Lohan. What can I possibly say about this dime bag of dildos, dick, dementia, and Dimeatapp? If you read any other blogs... The title line above her picture of her probably doing a line is normally something like: This Bitch. And that is exactly what needs to be said. First, she captured American hears by playing a double role in the beautiful childrens comedy - The Parent Trap. Like any family friendly movie it has it all. A bitter divorce that drives the opposing parties towards opposite continents because of their bitter rage with one another. The breaking up of a family and splitting two children that once shared a small, yet decorative British vagina, and then possessing a picture of their father and mother that had been ripped in half much like the sofa ripped apart by chainsaw in the bitter divorce battle. Yeah, pass the motherfucking popcorn and TiVo Maury. Cause this shit gets good.

Now that she has done most of the pure Colombian cocaine in the greater Hollywood area... She became bored with that and decided to drink and drive a couple few times. And don't judge people... Like you haven't? Meanwhile, she then decides - hey! Lets go to rehab! ...A couple few times. To make matters worse, she had a Movie called: Some Flaming Piano Teacher Cut Mah Shit Off and Somehow it is Fucking With Some Stripper Bitch That is Also My Twin. You see how her career then just became full circle? It's called irony folks. The one movie premise that starts your career can also act like your back alley abortionist to end it.

Enter carpet munching. Now she has decided to go off of the D. With this, it created a long retarded media blitz. Really? So now she's a lesbian. Fine sure. Whatever. Next week she will be a fucking troll and we will have to refer to her as Goddess Messiah Little-taint McBigTWAT. Lindsay, everyone is over it. Go away. Don't return. No one likes you. You know its bad when ever your lesser-known lesbian poon licker is fed up with you. Now I never really want to talk about this talentless hack again. Her or the flat crotch she rode in on.

God Save The... iPod?

I had thought about not commenting on this but I just cannot get it out of my head. Several days ago, Barack and Wifey went to jolly London Towne to go and see HMS QueenShit! A remarkable achievement! Oh, I mean that she is still alive and has the strength to hold up all those jewels. That shit takes strength. I had no problem with the visit from our current president until I found out what they brought with them. An iPod Touch. Really? REALLY? First I was thinking about ranting about why I found this unacceptable and then I just decided to go ahead and do it. When you are some of the most wealthiest land owners in the world, have royal blood (albeit inbred like a Cocker Spaniel from a puppy mill) and are treated with the utmost resect from foreign leaders, dignitaries, and your own countrymen... You then clearly deserve the illustrious present of an iPod Touch. But wouldn't it have kind of been funny if they gave her an iPod Shuffle. Sorry, I'm just getting a mental image.

Anyway, I know what she did with it. Because, we call one another when we take our baths and gab like old friends. Mainly we just talk about Britney Spears and her nipple tassels or the Oakland A's. This time it was different. Apparently what she did was hand it to one of her aides and he put it inside one of her priceless Faberge eggs and has since forgotten about it. But you know what she said to her baby daddy? "Philip what was that little rectangular shaped coaster that cute little colored boy gave us?" "Oh I don't know Bess. I think it was one of those marital devices we used to use in the bedroom back in the 60s."

But if you think about it... What if she actually uses it? Can't you almost see The Queen dancing around to Bad Girls by Donna Summer dressed in nothing but a mink cape, slippers, and waving a septor. That's what is really going down in the Tower of London. Then there's Prince Henry with the beer bong and a pound of weed. Oh the times they have been having lately. I bet she also had to get an iTrip so the damn thing could work in the Royal Bentley. That was her just now, driving by Harrods listening to the timeless classic, I Wanna Sex You Up - by Color Me Badd.

OPEN POST: VAGINA PROM DRESS

I'm posting this for a moment of vagina fodder... More to follow I promise.

Bernie Madoff: Wanted. Gagged and Buttplugged.

Who's about to get gangraped? None other than Mr. Bernard Madoff. Or just call him Bernie, uncle Bernie - or you can do what the people he defrauded want to do and call him Weekend at Bernie's. First thing to note - bitch is old. Bernie was involved in a Ponzi scheme at the magnitude that this country has never seen. If you do not watch A&E religiously like myself, do a little walk over to wikipedia.com to see what a Ponzi scheme is. Currently, Madoff is being "held" in his penthouse apartment in Manhattan.

Basically over the course of many years, Bernie managed to create the largest Ponzi scheme in the history of the world. His estimate is around $50 billion. The government says it's a little higher, but this guy is the kind of guy that is fucked - and he knows it.

How did he do it? Well, it was a combination of several things. Have you ever been awake and succumbed to watching one of those infomercials on investments? Do they say they have some investment that will make you rich? Is there a midget featured in the program at any time? Dressed up in a suit wearing hair gel? Do you see an unnecessary water feature or a Corvette anywhere? A Corvette you might ask yourself? Yeah, that is the "flashy car" they choose because it happens to be the nicest thing you can get at the fucking airport Hertz to rent for the day. If you are watching this, it is most likely a bunch of bullshit. However, Bernie had one resource midgets do not. Jews. Don't get me wrong, I want to make it totally clear that I have no qualms with the Jewish - I love them. However, typically Jewish people rely a lot on family and friends. They tend to do business with one another and Bernie worked the Jewish circuit. These innocent people believed this asshole for years. Now they have likely lost absolutely everything. Yes, I know... It is a bunch of rich people involved... Well, not anymore. For instance, the American icon that is Kevin Bacon had all of his Tremors money rapped up in Bernie's firm. Now he and his wife have what is left in their checking accounts and their houses and that is about it. So, If you ever wanted to be seven degrees to Kev - he might just be your bagger on the way out of CVS when you had to get that emergency KY Warming Liquid at three in the morning.

But it does get better. Bernie's two sons questioned what was going on and Bernie went ahead and inserted a corncob into his rectum to say, "This is a giant Ponzi scheme... a big lie." Then his two sons were the ones that called the feds to turn him in. His own sons. Priceless. They must have wanted to not be investigated since they worked under him at the firm. This was in an attempt to save their asses. But one has to wonder - when your family name is attached to the largest Ponzi scheme ever... I bet no one wants to do business with you ever again. So fellas - say HAY to Kevin Bacon while your at CVS cleaning the one hour photo machine and restocking morning after pills.

Time to get in your bunker! Leno's chin is on the loose!

So the other day I was reading how Jay Leno is planning on giving a few free shows to the citizens of Detroit. Detroit apparently is very high on the unemployment scale, so Jay decided to let the people laugh or whatever. What a slap in the fucking face. I mean first we have to watch him yip and talk about 'headlines' for years - since he has left his late night show he's going to tell "jokes" to help the economy...? Before I go apeshit (on mah batshit) Let me collect my thoughts, and by that I mean crack open a tall, cool Bud Light.

I'm back... and refreshed. Now, Back to Leno. And I know what you are thinking... No cleaver name? No. Why? The guy has the most unfortunate chin on planet earth. Just imagine what type of injustices would occur should he decide to become morbidly obese and get one of those double chins? People would have to look at it. Though, I imagine the chin is probably tired of his mouth and is probably in the pre-planning stages of succession from the face altogether. Someone let me know if you see a maliciously deformed chin down by Fort Sumter carrying a hand gun.

Anyway, my problem is that this is not helping anything. He is giving away free tickets. OK so he understands the problem with the economy... well maybe not. In order to fix this shit, people have to spend money. It's just not setting a good example. Oh they cannot afford it? Please. How much could that guy charge to see his ass? If he wanted to do a service for the city of Detroit... Start by popping the lock on that massive garage and try selling some of those fucking cars you have acquired over the years. Not all of them, just the ones that were made in Detroit. Then pay the unemployed population the money not to come and see your dumbass show.

OctoVagina!

In the news there has been way to much shit on this Octomom whore. Her real name is Nadya Suleman, which is Arabic for Trick Ho. So, my first thought - as with the rest of the free world was, oh... interesting. It was only after gaining major media attention that the news began reporting that she already has nine hundred billion kids. OK so she's got all of those kids, apparently she has no money, and is losing her house. Blasted Vag actually has fourteen children. When I start doing the math - in my already sauced head - I got a great solution to her problem. It's simple math, nine hundred billion kids + money problems + impending homelessness = SWEATSHOP. Cheap shit doesn't make itself people. I looked it up. Also, with this in mind - we can potentially tickle the taint of our own economy. Buy cheap shit from the USA, well - that busted ass looking house down the street that has more shit flying from the windows than an entire cattle barn being fed nothing Metamucil and Chalupas. There is a lesson to be learned here. If God did not happen to bless your uterus with the capability of housing feti, then I bet it was not a good choice in letting a "doctor" fist you with more seamen than a fucking German submarine.

Meanwhile, I see a growing trend in this whole baby thing. We have celebrities that are going to Africa and throwing down $50,000 on a kid. On a child. Now just to put that into a perspective... Cab fare and a trip to Planned Parenthood will run you around $500. All to drop the kids off to play at stem-cell research. Something does not quite add up. I think it's a little strange to take the G5 over to Africa and throw money at a child's parents and say, PEACE! Because they don't want to be over there anyway. Hell, I like my running water too. Without it - I have no fucking clue what my bartender is going to put with my vodka.

Throwing money at babies and claiming them for the rest of their lives, yeah that's one thing. But if you want a white baby, I know a guy. Under the table, Romanian. Looks just like the real thing. He promises they are not addicted to glue upon arrival from FedEx Freight.

But seriously, if we as a nation decide to throw money at things and take them. Let me be the first to start... My neighbor has a pretty bad ass television. I think I'll go take it... I'll pay for it of course. Only problem, I don't know where he is going to swipe my Discover card. I'm just hoping its not in the crack of his ass.

Global Warming: It's comin' tah git cha!!

Earlier I made mention of a one Albert Arnold Gore, Jr. Or, by his Christian name: Fatfuck McPuffy. Today I was sitting around on my day off thumbing through the channels when I spotted Mr. McPuffy flailing his Michelin Man arms gabbing about the 'ole Nobel Prize he picked up. It was the first interview I had seen in some time when he was not yammering on about the Oscar he also picked up. It should be noted, however, these two awards are not one in the same. McPuffy seems not to know this. While both hold a lot of merit, personally - I would take the Nobel over the Oscar... But I also want to own a Golden Raspberry statue sometime in my life. Perhaps the closest I will get is scouring ebay.com to see when Lohan is putting up her Razzie on the site. Though I suppose she will have to stop taking trips off the coast of Dykeachusetts to dive for Muff in order to get around to it. Meanwhile, back to Tubbo... My problem is that he keeps stating that the issue of global warming closed and not up for debate. OK - so can I reopen the debate if I throw a million dollars on a glorifuckingfied power point presentation, promote the holy goose shit out of it, and partner with the dude that played the retard in What's Eating Gilbert Grape? In the research I have done, the subject is still very open for debate. It is not like this is the first time in history the earth has heated. It can come from many different sources. I also would like to point out that people that cannot seem to figure out that the earth is heated by a giant fucking star called the Sun and his royal bigtits is getting bigger - thus, closer to the earth. So, it's not just us. I'm sorry, Al. Not everyone can afford to drive that fugly Prius shit. Most of us do not know how to go about strapping gargantuan solar panels to our homes. And what if you live in an apartment? Yes. We get it. Use less, conserve more. It is something that our parents teach us. However, the problem does not lie totally with us. So, if you see McPuffy on the street, walking in his recycled moose horn espadrilles, sporting an eco-friendly buttplug, and eating a portabello mushroom and Crisco wrap - do the right thing... Punch him in the neck and t-bag his fat ass.

Also, I would like to extend this post to discussing the need to save polar bears. When I am watching a 3 hour marathon of Cold Case Files, I don't want a minute and a half of bullshit dribble from some D-list actor talking about saving the fucking polar bears. Do not ever interrupt Bill Kurtis. It's just rude. Look, I get it. They look cuddly. We have all seen the animated Coke ads over the holidays... However, this is not the case. I can see why we would give 2 fucks about a platypus. Those fuckers are the comedians of nature. Every time I see one I get the same smile on my face that I do when I see some horribly deformed ginger child at dinner. Polar bears will rip your fucking face off, throw it in a blender, add whatever ice they have left, and serve it in a glass with a crazy straw.

I mean, I can't wait to make sure that an animal that will render me faceless has a fucking home to jack off in. I can understand saving something I can potentially pet - but when its ashes to ashes, I'm not fucking laying down in front of one of those big ass thundernuggets. Call Jane Fonda - or better yet, call Al Gore and let a polar bear knock his ass down a peg.

*While I cannot stand this guy, he does still sport an amazing mustache. His report is worth watching...

OPEN POST: Blogging

For some time now, we have said that our thoughts on certain issues should not go unnoticed. That being said, I would like to take the time to thank a one Mr. Al Gore - for creating the interweb. Without this tool, blogging would not be possible. Though, looking up who invented the dark meat chicken McNugget on Wikipedia, clicking through pages of midgets fisting well-intentioned billy goats, and getting the best price for a jar of lemon sented anal bleach... Without the internet - all these treasures would not be possible.

The tone of our posts will be a refreshing view of our society. Well, mainly under the influence.