tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67046783355737837612024-02-02T10:06:42.424-08:00The Nothing ReportAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.comBlogger114125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-71725574113092663262016-01-18T10:16:00.001-08:002016-01-18T10:16:49.958-08:00You're Sooooo Political<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6szkWoyuEqNw9M9lE544tiICsh45VYDbOj3MgO1t9zlW52bZoM1dV_ERBwQLWuYA03bRp9TvGW6nD_m64RdPtsxDLwp-OezbuxcSuOTISdzfqqG8i-Fqild7wclDWjdvqfJ2YHqiQoo/s1600/welcome-to-the-us-government-meme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6szkWoyuEqNw9M9lE544tiICsh45VYDbOj3MgO1t9zlW52bZoM1dV_ERBwQLWuYA03bRp9TvGW6nD_m64RdPtsxDLwp-OezbuxcSuOTISdzfqqG8i-Fqild7wclDWjdvqfJ2YHqiQoo/s200/welcome-to-the-us-government-meme.jpg" width="200" /></a>You have a political background or a political mind, a political family or a political viewpoint. Now tell me, where has that gotten you so far? You may be the kind of person that researches your favorite candidate for whatever office because you think they share your views, although you forget on a regular basis that the American dream is about making money, and that they're a politician. You get on the internet every day on your down time and stream hardcore furries and three girls, one jar of mayonnaise, eventually stumbling into your favorite political forums where you touch yourself the most, insulting everyone in your path that doesn't believe everything you do. You're a Cristian American. Jesus said love your enemies, but you'd love to see your enemies in flames; because "an eye for an eye". You don't believe in abortion because every life is precious, but your neighbor has kids out of wedlock, so you jump at the chance to inform them about how you're going to be sipping Margaritas in heaven while your God tortures them forever with no redeeming purpose for eternity. You'll shoot anyone who tries to take your guns away because turning the other cheek is for pussies an submitting to your governing authorities "isn't what the Bible meant". All men are created equal and you will defend that to the end, but that Mexican dude down the road looks suspicious and you'll be damned if you keep having to press "2" during an automated message while you're paying your phone bill.<br />
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With all of your Christian values, you seem to miss the point when politics are involved. There's a reason Jesus said, "Give unto Ceasar what is Ceasar's." He was never involved in the politics of the world. He didn't even scold the gays for not saying "My, what a lovely tea party." The express mission of Christianity is to keep his commandments by loving your neighbor as yourself and loving God with all their heart. Where in these commandments is the requirement for arguing which liar lies the least? You're worried about gays, racism, abortions, gun rights, taxes, welfare, foreign policies, like and share for bacon, ignore for Devil worship, but you're still missing the point. If you value what's written in your Bible, you should not ever be worried about whether or not Bob is giving Hank the reach around, you should be practicing to follow your leader, Jesus Christ. If every self-proclaimed Christian was doing this, we'd have a whole different argument about whether or not we would even need politics. Do not judge or you too will be judged. Sound familiar? Even the patriarch Paul said "<em>What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church? Are you not to judge those inside?" </em>Are you getting it? Based on what everything Jesus and his immediate followers said time and time again, the majority of you refuse to listen. It's all so simple and you just won't hear it, because "Muhrica".<br />
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So you still think that as a "God fearing, born again, Jesus take the wheel" conservative, liberal, independent, constitutionalist, socialist, libertarian, capitalist, rodeo clown, midget wrestler, you will make a difference? Let me give you some wisdom. A house divided against itself will not stand. you're all so busy fighting each other, you will never make a difference; but that's the point, isn't it? The government is a business, it is designed to create revenue off of you and your offspring. appointing new employees for a company you don't belong to is like trying to negotiate the last beer when you didn't buy the case. What better way of making things go the way you want than to preoccupy your clientele with flashing lights and jingly keys? It's called misdirection. Sure, at face value, you think they are supposed to serve you and your needs, but did you ever stop to think that maybe your needs don't sign their paycheck? Election campaigns are an investment. They spend millions upon millions of dollars trying to get elected, why? Because it's not about the money? Do you really think that any politician would apply for a job that pays less with more hours? Would you? Also, why would any rich affiliate donate their money to someone who would increase their taxes up to the percentage that you, as a hard-working, middle class American, are forced to pay? This is a business venture that you have a lot less to do with than you think. You lose more rights, more privileges, and more money every day and you seem to think that supporting your favorite team gets you free season tickets. How's that working out for you, "die-hard" Panther fans? ("<em>We're kickin' ass!!"</em> Yeah, sure <u>you</u> are.) Now do I really have to make a sports reference to prove to you that you just "being in favor" of something in your mind benefits you nothing in the real world? You know, the same world where David Bowie is dead and Kanye West is still alive? Buying a pair of truck nuts would at least give you something more tangible.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-iQfKgX9gEAorP_q0zK4g22pxnCreEhmHjkzIRMMcXuOZrnM3-E2XiTbkibrAwuA1dxy87BgtJVyo5LSCJUgyhAkaWg_jhXVRZzPmihIXL7wXH1Zl5VxuWoncNyyprHbS1z95uP0rJQ/s1600/resize.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-iQfKgX9gEAorP_q0zK4g22pxnCreEhmHjkzIRMMcXuOZrnM3-E2XiTbkibrAwuA1dxy87BgtJVyo5LSCJUgyhAkaWg_jhXVRZzPmihIXL7wXH1Zl5VxuWoncNyyprHbS1z95uP0rJQ/s200/resize.jpg" width="194" /></a>In all reality, you have a lot of people that want what's better for them and their families and you also have a lot of people that are more into instant gratification. We all experience both a little bit within ourselves at some point in our lives, but it takes a village. Instead of seeing who can say the word "butthurt" and "troll" the most on facebook, try living your life the way you're supposed to and let sin take its toll where <em>it's</em> supposed to. Try experiencing true religion by doing selflessly for others without judgment. You could start by selling that god-awful singing bass on the wall and your 10-year-old's iPhone to get your wife a vacation away from your whiney, privileged ass.<br />
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Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this post, which is for entertainment purposes only and serves no agenda, except for opening new avenues of thought, unless you're too busy touching yourself thinking about what political and religious views I have. By all means, keep pounding.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-78050904018444613992014-01-24T10:25:00.002-08:002014-01-24T10:38:07.991-08:00Shooting Craps... Done Right.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9F_nQHfdGa4lsRxWYSPve8l1-mi5nFDIde_n2TYyhe6h1ZoSc6KuqGR5bnqRzTsoViw0B2zbgln6EML5laMQEa2_iN03LJOWftBx4NKbaZcQmF4cDwk6uN0WUrGo0Ls9cJhdtzXlPNZk/s1600/000000000003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9F_nQHfdGa4lsRxWYSPve8l1-mi5nFDIde_n2TYyhe6h1ZoSc6KuqGR5bnqRzTsoViw0B2zbgln6EML5laMQEa2_iN03LJOWftBx4NKbaZcQmF4cDwk6uN0WUrGo0Ls9cJhdtzXlPNZk/s1600/000000000003.jpg" height="241" width="320" /></a>It occurred to me, an epiphany, that not only do I possess knowledge far superior to modern man, but I also have no idea how to use it. last night I coincidentally put together a combination of cheap wine and Food Lion Colby cheese as a late night snack, only to start pondering why cheese and wine is remotely even an ideal combination. Then, I remembered that the French are idiots and life started to make sense again. Nevertheless it got me thinking about it even more this morning when one of the kids wanted some of said cheese while I was enjoying a nice hot cup of stool softener.<br />
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Now, keep in mind I'm thirty-four years old. Massive amounts of cheese goes through me like a camel through the eye of a needle. Thousands of hours of painful cold sweats apparently teach me nothing. On the other hand, Mother Nature and our preferred local grocers combine forces to become Captain Planet!... No... no... That's a different show. They do, however, make for a nice regular (key word: regular) trip to the "tahlet".<br />
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With every item of sustenance we ingest, a parent's only relaxation time can transform from a broad range of a fourty-two hour birth-giving simulation to a demonstration of what happens when you put curdled milk in a Play-Doh spaghetti machine. Let's not even discuss trying to imagine wet sand being pushed out from a Super Soaker. We don't need those kinds of visuals. I don't know if anyone remembers those Wow Chips, but not as bad as that. In short, what we need to do is eat the foods we like by constantly evening everything out with other foods that counteract the effect.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JqBX5PYPVtxLzRwS5b3BOzOI-ebZHQboXgJjsYsCSyVEJWb3UtMsRG8KORwVbPuxT9hXOYfxmHgPD85KlF9g-LuCcBVdnql-aEI8yhMwoZ8S5iKUVXJz5e-_p9gWxHEOoHm-Gt_OyDs/s1600/000000000006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JqBX5PYPVtxLzRwS5b3BOzOI-ebZHQboXgJjsYsCSyVEJWb3UtMsRG8KORwVbPuxT9hXOYfxmHgPD85KlF9g-LuCcBVdnql-aEI8yhMwoZ8S5iKUVXJz5e-_p9gWxHEOoHm-Gt_OyDs/s1600/000000000006.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
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Instead of drinking wine with cheese, depending on how much you eat (and in my case, it's about one wheel per sitting), you would drink large amounts of coffee. Now, the coffee would probably turn you into a Taco Bell hot sauce dispenser, so we would have to try evening that out with some chocolate-covered bananas. If that starts to make you feel sick, you're doing it right. Follow that up with some beans, like...... a lot of beans. If you throw up, by God shove it back in! We're almost at the perfect poop; you can't puss out now. Give it about fifteen minutes to let all that partially digested bean-fest to settle for the second time and begin shoveling in some bacon-wrapped steak followed by three cups of prune juice. I'm talking Solo cups people; You're not out of the woods yet. That reminds me, tree bark is high in fiber; you should find some of that and force it down with a cold glass of milk and some stale rye bread. If you're still conscious, take that trip a little farther into the forest and capture yourself at least two and three quarters Smurfs. Despite popular belief, they're really not that difficult to find. You just have to pee on yourself a little. that's their mating call... with human urine. Yeah... Now I know what you're thinking: How do you catch three quarters of a Smurf? The answer is simple: Find Cripple Smurf; he has no legs. If you can't catch that, then we seriously need to rethink your eating habits.<br />
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Eat the Smurfs raw and include the clothes. You're not a pussy, are you? Now, go to the fridge and mix together two oranges and some shark meat with a small pile of igneous rock and a few crushed cigarettes for flavor. Blend until it's got that gritty, rustic texture (kind of like Ray Liotta's face), and just down it like you lost a bet with Joe Pesci. If it's too rough going down, chase each bite with shavings from a tire and cardboard chips. (If that's not available, you can easily substitute that with basically anything from McDonald's.) Once digestion stops, you're ready for your fist fully functioning, perfectly regular brown baby boy, handed down from God Himself and passed on to you by... I guess your bowels...<br />
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If you've followed all of those basic steps, your next goal is to start doing heavy drugs because you just utterly destroyed your body, and this shit is thoroughly going to hurt a lot for the remainder of your life, which is probably about three days. You ever see that movie "From Beyond" where that guy's head is twisted off by a demon from hell? It's gonna feel a lot like that, but on the other side of your body. Enjoy!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-49481055728546069522013-06-19T22:00:00.001-07:002013-06-19T22:18:51.928-07:00Your Milkshake... Just Got Violated<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHbcDdfTjLW4kVEoeluxaHNCgsPr0yaFDRs7kgj3OcFadtjTad6H_qsQnr-jjljnb3lSfCK2uTDS6EiufVOELQnZg70m21oRQJufFT_Ss3_vwL_1cZGUZzMRxAfMxvWgMJcI5lvLmEwU8/s1600/11-lets-go-to-prison-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHbcDdfTjLW4kVEoeluxaHNCgsPr0yaFDRs7kgj3OcFadtjTad6H_qsQnr-jjljnb3lSfCK2uTDS6EiufVOELQnZg70m21oRQJufFT_Ss3_vwL_1cZGUZzMRxAfMxvWgMJcI5lvLmEwU8/s320/11-lets-go-to-prison-17.jpg" width="320" /></a>Look at all these people nowadays that apparently can't wait to be sent to prison. Murders, thieves, child molesters, and reality television "stars" are of the many deserving of such a fate; but what we hope for as God-loving Americans is that they all get pounded like a sumo belly vigorously, via involuntary butt sex. While it's such a cruel world out there, I'm sure you can imagine a few people in your personal life that deserve this humiliating fate as well, but for the sake of argument, let's keep our attentions drawn towards all those people in the above statement so you and I both don't seem like horrible people. I mean..... you totally are, but don't try to drag me down with you. I'm here to make you laugh, not give you the gruesome visuals you just had about your ex.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0A-GkJyUVx7i-pBIakFBtR6140-aq7vsHvURd7-q44xt-yHj67j-dtYcwKgdLmSCx3CRjFabTYboipIhjtoEWOnkCPo3eX9fLdTh_CtAw4p2WhGz5f6KnC7dWWbRSprJd56yKg71Fe2k/s1600/c480x270_50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0A-GkJyUVx7i-pBIakFBtR6140-aq7vsHvURd7-q44xt-yHj67j-dtYcwKgdLmSCx3CRjFabTYboipIhjtoEWOnkCPo3eX9fLdTh_CtAw4p2WhGz5f6KnC7dWWbRSprJd56yKg71Fe2k/s320/c480x270_50.jpg" width="320" /></a>Now, I can only imagine what's going through someone's mind when they're getting pole positioned by a "fellow" inmate by the name of Bull with a tattoo on his left butt cheek that says "Mom" in the dead silence of the D block (Ironically, everybody in the D block... gets the "D"), but wouldn't it be an even worse fate if you had music playing in the background that proverbial back door break-in nightmares are made of? Could you imagine trying to block out all the snuggle struggle moments of your life as a fresh fish, only to have all of those fond memories that you suppressed resurface when you hear some easy listening on the car stereo on your way to the DMV? (See what I did there? Going to the DMV is basically the same thing.) Some people are afraid of heights. You're now afraid of Cindy Lauper.<br />
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So what I did was compiled a list of the top ten worst songs you could possibly hear while being prison probed. Enjoy.<br />
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<b>10.) Barry White - Can't Get Enough of Your Love</b><br />
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"I don't know, I don't know why..." On second thought, he knows exactly why. You're getting your black cherry picked by a professional fart hole farmer.<br />
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<b>9.) Marvin Gaye - Let's Get it On</b><br />
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Giving yourself to me can never be wrong, if you got some lube. I mean come on. this one's a given. There's no way you can retain even a shred of self respect if this is being shoved in your ears while other things are being shoved..... you get the picture.<br />
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<b>8.) Father Figure</b><br />
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I mean seriously... you'll be calling him daddy before the day is done, or he'll most likely trade you to his buddy "Horsecock" for five cigarettes and a magazine. You should be proud; most prison bitches only go for three.<br />
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<b>7.) Ebony and Ivory - Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney</b><br />
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Isn't this one just hilarious? Stevie didn't even see this one coming.<br />
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<b>6.) Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams</b><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/zQ9zycElysU" width="459"></iframe><br />
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Who am I to disagree? Some of them definitely want to abuse you... The melody to this song almost makes you want to outfit 'em with carnival attire. Although there's nothing astonishing about this elephant stampeding in your center ring.<br />
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5.) <span style="line-height: 19.176136016845703px;"><b>Celine Dion</b></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="white-space: nowrap;"> </span><span style="white-space: nowrap;">- My Heart Will Go On</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span></b></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><b><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/WNIPqafd4As" width="480"></iframe></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span></b></span><span style="white-space: nowrap;">I don't care where you're from; you know the theme from Titanic and every time you</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">think of that damn movie, you picture that annoying scene with ol' girl's hand sliding down</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">the steamy car window. Now you have something new to imagine. Sweet dreams!... Wait,</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">we already covered that one. Jesus Christ, you'll never sleep again, my friend.</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><b>4.) Survivor - Eye of the Tiger</b></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">You can't say that this song isn't one of those classics that people still enjoy listening to. This is</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">workout music at its best. It makes you feel like you're on top of the world. You've got more</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">stamina, more energy, you get your own montage... Now put that in your scenario. Clubber</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">Lang isn't going to let up for a while; you might as well book your infirmary appointment well in</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">advance.</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><b>3.) John Mellencamp - Hurts so Good</b></span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/4dOsbsuhYGQ" width="459"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">White bikers straight out of the 70's. My thoughts exactly. Sometimes love don't feel like it should.</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">... It really doesn't..... It reeeaaaaally doesn't.</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><b>2.) Whitesnake - Is This Love</b></span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/ujnH4yNqL8E" width="459"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">I can tell you this... That's not love you're feeling. That's jizz.</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">...and finally, and by God you best pray this isn't playing at your wake, per chance you die from</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">being impaled by the black stallion's bowling ball-sized anal bead.</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><b>1.) Johnny Cash - Ring of Fire</b></span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/mIBTg7q9oNc" width="459"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">All I can say is... listen to the lyrics. Just listen to the lyrics. I don't need to explain it to you.</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">I hope you enjoyed this little adventure of ours, and I also hope you enjoyed being manipulated into</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">picturing prison rape the entire time. You're welcome for that. Even if you go to prison and get</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">raped in awkward silence, you're still going to think about one of these songs in your head mid-coitus</span><br />
<span style="white-space: nowrap;">anyway. Did you really think you were getting away that easily?</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-72700183992306793952012-03-07T13:52:00.005-08:002012-03-08T09:49:45.110-08:00The Reality of Super Mario<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Krgp0Cg4Mt5I9YTZRa1NYq-2wZgsmyOyC8YkFpAIs79z2hkHoHEgeggpvLokmXyjuZ2CVliagbOuWyPEi4OWVd4m1-Y9wT00jatoKNoQkwBu1J2dpuy8SSV2MQ0COzPwPcWMnuA_wa4/s1600/ps4controller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Krgp0Cg4Mt5I9YTZRa1NYq-2wZgsmyOyC8YkFpAIs79z2hkHoHEgeggpvLokmXyjuZ2CVliagbOuWyPEi4OWVd4m1-Y9wT00jatoKNoQkwBu1J2dpuy8SSV2MQ0COzPwPcWMnuA_wa4/s320/ps4controller.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
You'd think video games used to be simple. Back in the day, you had a joystick with one button. After that, you had a direction pad with two buttons. Now you've got two kids, a nagging wife, and no money left for the strip club, a direction pad, two sticks, a kick start, four plug outlets, a Dolby surround sound speaker system, and eighty-three buttons. Things get more complicated as the years go by. Run, jump, hit that block, kick that turtle, straddle that flagpole... The goal was easy; Get to from the left side to the right side before the clock runs out. (Isn't it odd the movie 'In Time' mimics perfectly what happens when the timer reaches zero?)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJiMdHyDRGVHwybsNCwCi-ihCPa2LyOuSV4GVfs69dAKUj2tVgeo514zybKe96J71UzJOkFqOZb0zmMNE7vB3dnRe1qYxnr5ZMBEK7Jdpl3yvFiPJYprXHUV9DLAQT6_d1AQmQtMr8Z2Q/s1600/tumblr_lbq1zkGyGY1qz9skjo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJiMdHyDRGVHwybsNCwCi-ihCPa2LyOuSV4GVfs69dAKUj2tVgeo514zybKe96J71UzJOkFqOZb0zmMNE7vB3dnRe1qYxnr5ZMBEK7Jdpl3yvFiPJYprXHUV9DLAQT6_d1AQmQtMr8Z2Q/s320/tumblr_lbq1zkGyGY1qz9skjo1_500.jpg" width="320" /></a>Nowadays, it seems like everything has to have a story. There needs to be character development, rich environmental eye candy, nonstop f-bombs, lies about cake, something about... <a href="http://www.pp2g.tv/van99ZXg_.aspx">hot coffee</a>... No more up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, start. We need achievements, unlockables, 3-dimensional concept art, and eighteen hundred difficulty settings (If you make it through sex nuts & retard strong nightmare mode, it unlocks FML mode). The mystery in all of this is... what if the older games really <i>did</i> have a story behind them? What if there's a deeper meaning behind the games we grew up with? What if Super Mario Bros. was more than just an innocent 8-bit run to the end?<br />
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Mario has no life. He lives in Brooklyn as a plumber. Pretty simple concept, but that won't really make for an excellent and compelling game. Mario bunks with his brother Luigi, but Luigi has a severe crack addiction. He's as skinny as can be and fidgety; afraid of his own shadow. Mario wants to help somehow, but he has no idea where to begin to assist his brother in kicking the habit, so he does what any plumber in New York would do in his situation... He spends his power bill money on a bag of mushrooms. Mario loves these little chunks of cow patty fungus so much, he even puts them in his spaghetti just before he rides the go-karts down the street. His bills are piling up so fast, he feels like he's just flushing his life (and all of his green) down the tubes. He has to get away somehow, and these magic mushrooms always do the trick. They make him feel eight feet tall, like he can do anything.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUb0E8E6E1vGudNz8cjOIV1lOKptVdwmVbLjCUcNiC5E1EOuRQHrOT4-ABVgyqBoBkNc96qSXh3WZgsmDF03A0aQd8Sz9mwuW9OIj5-afhM8xmu-nog9LbMYxgH8bb2cyLNwaN0Gv34I/s1600/mariowall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUb0E8E6E1vGudNz8cjOIV1lOKptVdwmVbLjCUcNiC5E1EOuRQHrOT4-ABVgyqBoBkNc96qSXh3WZgsmDF03A0aQd8Sz9mwuW9OIj5-afhM8xmu-nog9LbMYxgH8bb2cyLNwaN0Gv34I/s640/mariowall.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2kpYbhO4uEddtxjLyQl7oUdPoCfA15iXLy5uR-XnaHbFgdGtCWJzpaKdbPQ8I32QJORGNBAWvfDBK6IEFqYFdp5AZ_02kvjjKHOUl0A4fNR-8iWrZfxalgUG1PHXr03bRgOBuR4I3b48/s1600/smb2real.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2kpYbhO4uEddtxjLyQl7oUdPoCfA15iXLy5uR-XnaHbFgdGtCWJzpaKdbPQ8I32QJORGNBAWvfDBK6IEFqYFdp5AZ_02kvjjKHOUl0A4fNR-8iWrZfxalgUG1PHXr03bRgOBuR4I3b48/s320/smb2real.jpg" width="240" /></a>Mario imagines himself in a magical kingdom with castles...and turtles. He calls it the mushroom kingdom. Every day is bright and sunny and there are gold coins everywhere! His financial problems are over! But what's this? The mushrooms are coming to life and walking around! He'll have to stomp on them all. No one's going to take his coins. He has to... What was it he had to do again?<br />
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Mario gets so mad at the little mushroom monsters, he begins to spit fire. The fire represents his pent up rage. The turtles attack from the right... well, of <i>course </i>they come in from the right... Mario's unsure of what will happen next, so he sees blocks with giant question marks on them. He feels like he can do anything with these mushrooms. He feels stronger; more lively. (In reality, Mario runs around, punching brick walls with limp and bloody hands.) More mushrooms come out of the blocks. He grows bigger, like Alice in Wonderland. He wants to keep on doing this forever, so now green mushrooms also come out of the blocks. Mario feels great, like nothing can stop him. He's invincible. he's a bright shining star that flickers like a strobe light as he goes for the flag pole. (In reality, Mario is making a fool of himself on the main stage at the strip club. He sees fireworks as he spappies on the Asian business men in front of him.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8P7ZhUIv17_5zxVZCvnGxGX2Ci9llGzVW3Sr2Mry0-RZtELlKU6CCqD73Iv3wNZQH3BhoIGUj3wLCM9JnayCOlOPGJEHTRO37OjZCzJJm6WsBk8xT2QZBnp7onDKazJlCeAMyyy-bH-E/s1600/V1Ru4EIpPm3d8py0YVnz03obo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8P7ZhUIv17_5zxVZCvnGxGX2Ci9llGzVW3Sr2Mry0-RZtELlKU6CCqD73Iv3wNZQH3BhoIGUj3wLCM9JnayCOlOPGJEHTRO37OjZCzJJm6WsBk8xT2QZBnp7onDKazJlCeAMyyy-bH-E/s320/V1Ru4EIpPm3d8py0YVnz03obo1_500.jpg" width="300" /></a>He finally reaches the castle! A little talking mushroom tells him that the princess is in another castle... Princess?? Mario thinks back to all the times he's chased after women just to get a taste of some peach, but he's struggled all his life to find the woman of his dreams; a beautiful princess, just to find she's always out of reach.<br />
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Mario begins to call himself "Super" Mario. He's been on a diet of mushrooms and flowers out of people's front yards, trying to get to the "princess". <br />
He calls them <i>fire </i>flowers. Traveling from castle to castle, collecting all the coins he finds laying around, stuffing into his pockets various items like mushrooms, feathers, frogs, dead raccoons, whistles, dry leaves, and not to mention poor defenseless turtles that he throws at people from his car, Mario needs more mushrooms... just another little boost of super strength...<br />
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The world he sees becomes everything from a land where everything is gigantic, to a land of chocolate and cookies; doughnuts and cupcakes. (in reality, Mario crawls along the floor of a candy shop with a dead bird in his hands, plucking the feathers and pretending like he's flying.) He keeps thinking about those turtles and how much he hates them. He becomes so paranoid about the turtles, he suspects there's a giant one guarding the princess, keeping him from his sweet, sweet piece of tail.<br />
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Wandering aimlessly around the mushroom kingdom, Mario gets so lonely. He takes a dead frog from his pocket and starts talking to it, calling it "Toad". He needs a little buddy, like a dinosaur that could reach out with his tongue and find him more mushrooms (In reality, Mario is licking the toad).<br />
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Day and night, he crawls around the sewer system, continuing his search for the princess. All of these magical pipes are so confusing, there's got to be a way to <i>warp </i>out of here... Mario blows his magic whistle (In reality, he's trying to start his car) and is somehow transported to a Kart race along a road made of beautiful rainbow. everyone is trying to get to the finish, throwing bob-ombs, banana peels, and red shells at his Kart (In reality, Mario is being chased by several cop cars). Mario finally makes it to the finish, and the mushroom Kingdom celebrates, setting off fireworks. (In reality, Mario jumps out of the car and is shot all to hell by the police as people stand around and stare at the wounded plumber's blood-stained, blue overalls.)<br />
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"What a crazy son-of-a-bitch." said officer Bird.<br />
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"You said it, Birdo." replied Lieutenant Bowser. "I'm just glad we took that bastard down before he crashed straight into the Yoshi Dragon Chinese restaurant."<br />
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Mario's fans adorned their hero with a medal for winning the race to save the Mushroom Kingdom from the Evil King Koopa. (in reality Officer Bowser slaps handcuffs on the lunatic plumber.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiJmyvKyzRaXTDCmstDmNCQx3WuuFhHkrEKorPZBlUalteL0emZi_7LQqrYjlGmYnAC2CQQQwTW1-PNpg3avyv2tesLlKjtxwGupQf_yN19gAqOh-SquvoGBNMBRCU0t66hYUYuvhMKo/s1600/mariobackground1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifiJmyvKyzRaXTDCmstDmNCQx3WuuFhHkrEKorPZBlUalteL0emZi_7LQqrYjlGmYnAC2CQQQwTW1-PNpg3avyv2tesLlKjtxwGupQf_yN19gAqOh-SquvoGBNMBRCU0t66hYUYuvhMKo/s400/mariobackground1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Days later in the real world, Mario's brain had been so damaged by all kinds of narcotics and hallucinogens, that he now sits in a padded room wearing a straight jacket, laughing hysterically and shouting "It'sa me, Mario! Woo hoo! Woo hoo!"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPkhC1qlW4Bipeljf_QuyVfxC2xx_F-xOZFrl5kHgzbuqcQbBrLTQLyEiqHA7lRvWRrR0mCQT5BM6Hu6KQ993UZtAsZK1nnghWlQTD0L__E2jrRmCFdEbSbMCiNM4ALNbgQ4vaFFELBg/s1600/real-super-mario-story.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPkhC1qlW4Bipeljf_QuyVfxC2xx_F-xOZFrl5kHgzbuqcQbBrLTQLyEiqHA7lRvWRrR0mCQT5BM6Hu6KQ993UZtAsZK1nnghWlQTD0L__E2jrRmCFdEbSbMCiNM4ALNbgQ4vaFFELBg/s400/real-super-mario-story.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Stay tuned next time for the Adventures of Luigi's "Mansion".</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-43004521549280710492012-02-28T10:27:00.001-08:002012-02-28T10:31:03.793-08:00I'm Tired of tasting Your Rainbow<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfiDJDXTlNqcpFmzOt5GDOobPjz7CM5r09kKUd00fugF1GTlY5ZvgkBbdGCciOBq4e5jheJmA0xS8_7kN9tJiNFlQpfvOn94mJSWvnDIp29sc7dW-b27QIqx9pVdVwcPzUcT7vnz0-0C0/s1600/luci0208-2-4e46a78f0c402_518x345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfiDJDXTlNqcpFmzOt5GDOobPjz7CM5r09kKUd00fugF1GTlY5ZvgkBbdGCciOBq4e5jheJmA0xS8_7kN9tJiNFlQpfvOn94mJSWvnDIp29sc7dW-b27QIqx9pVdVwcPzUcT7vnz0-0C0/s320/luci0208-2-4e46a78f0c402_518x345.jpg" width="320" /></a>I was having a conversation with a friend on facebook the other day and their post was about gay rights. I think you can already see where this is going. Since I haven't pissed anyone off in a while, I feel it's an obligatory prerogative to keep the proverbial ball rolling. Keep in mind, this is one of those oh, so delicious topics that will unmistakeably piss someone off no matter what you say, so I've decided not to talk about gay rights, even though I cum when I piss people off. <br />
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Throughout American history, blacks, women, gays, and animal lovers (and when I say lovers, I probably mean folks in Tijuana, but not necessarily. The best part about that is that I just made you imagine a woman blowing a donkey without saying it outright... and if that didn't work, I just said it outright, so you're welcome; and get that big veiny donkey penis out of your brain, you damn pervert.) .... where was I. Oh yes... blacks, women, gays, and animal lovers have been fighting for equal rights of some kind and I'm not any one of those. I'm a white male; the only person in America that loses rights on a daily basis because all anyone else has to do is claim that I discriminated against them about their sex, skin, beliefs, or lifestyle; which makes me the most discriminated against person on the planet by American standards, but that's a topic for another time.<br />
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The topic at hand is <b>not </b>about gay rights, but instead about gay "pride". I understand that if you're going to live a certain way, the last thing you need to be is ashamed of it. Go big or go home, I guess (this time I'm not talking about penises). Whatever your moral standing, or whichever standards of right or wrong you live by, you should at least live it with a sense of confidence. Not to say you shouldn't be humble at times and open to correction, but blatant pride in anything is stupid at best. Today's topic isn't even about the psychological effects of pride; imagine that. To be honest I'm thinking about instantly changing the subject to the economic development of donkey shows in America, now that you can't get that huge, hairy donkey scrotum out of your head. Seriously, you should forget about that and let me get back on topic.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfneHic61lqEJKAm2ph1ZAv3u7WCre22EGa6KDjXdu56pukmrGPZB6g7H6CG2WATmG5HUC3c9wdKC1xm_49WnsyWcf2tam5xUEpM-R_Gva4GzEBWjxlKZmhrl5RLNLUWnYIgzFlzfsiI/s1600/donkey-show_design.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfneHic61lqEJKAm2ph1ZAv3u7WCre22EGa6KDjXdu56pukmrGPZB6g7H6CG2WATmG5HUC3c9wdKC1xm_49WnsyWcf2tam5xUEpM-R_Gva4GzEBWjxlKZmhrl5RLNLUWnYIgzFlzfsiI/s400/donkey-show_design.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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I, personally, am not gay. There's no reason for me to hate gays. To me, being gay is like a smoker vs. a non-smoker, or someone who doesn't wear underwear. I absolutely hate mushrooms, but is there reason for me to hate people who love to eat them? ... maybe.... My point is, Having sex with the same sex is just something gays like to do. I have nothing to do with what they like to do, so why should I impose myself onto their personal habits. I bite my fingernails, but I don't see a coalition conspiring to convince America that God hates nail biters. God hates all sin, and yes I believe homosexuality is a sin, but I also believe smoking is a sin, which includes myself, so why, oh why would I completely ignore the fact I like to do something I believe is wrong, yet abhor people that do something that doesn't even involve me. To be honest, I know smokers who really piss me off, but every gay I've ever met has always been pleasant to be around. Still thinking about that donkey penis? Good. Today's topic isn't about homosexual religious convictions either. Jesus Christ why don't I get with it already?<br />
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What I want to talk about is how much it pisses me off that some gays shove their sexual preference in my face. what do I mean by that? I'm talking about things like gay pride parades and over-the-top flamboyancy; things that don't need to be out in public. Why? Let me explain. Sex is fun of course. I'll admit, I for one put it at the tippy-top of my list of things to do for the day; but like any respectful person should, I keep my sex life private, behind closed doors. I don't have parades honoring the fact that I like to put my junk in my wife's trunk. I mean.... I <i>should</i>... I totally should... but I don't. I don't because my sexual preference and/or lifestyle doesn't need to be out in the streets, and neither does anyone else's.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjazZrXueXephUvcElDcZsgudGxsvCJOUDOnSLXuXgg-queJ0WAHjoANm3kTMZiPKqDfRcVJyrDBTYDohm5IrBUCp66_eGwoNqH6URBMNZY3P49n9l19GszJy1pZQiMyuSbaqXnkwGr1Ag/s1600/home_page.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjazZrXueXephUvcElDcZsgudGxsvCJOUDOnSLXuXgg-queJ0WAHjoANm3kTMZiPKqDfRcVJyrDBTYDohm5IrBUCp66_eGwoNqH6URBMNZY3P49n9l19GszJy1pZQiMyuSbaqXnkwGr1Ag/s400/home_page.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"heh, heh... Donkey show..."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The fact remains that if you either like to smoke pole or munch the sideways sloppy joe and you have the same parts, it's still a sexual preference. I'm not arguing whether or not it's a choice. It <i>is </i>a choice you make, but it's also not a choice whether or not you want to be that way. Like I said, I hate mushrooms, but I can't consciously make the choice to like them, because I don't. You can't just make yourself like something you don't like. Where's your free will <i>now</i>, fundamental christians?<br />
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My point is, sex, whether it be with a man or a woman, should be a private matter. Putting your gayness in a public setting, just because you're prideful of it, is imposing on me details about your sex life that I didn't ask for. That's the thing. What about kids? Do they need to know about total strangers' sex lives? "Oh, it's okay honey. They're just putting on this parade to show who they like to have sex with."<br />
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"Why?"<br />
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"Because they want everybody to know."<br />
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"Why?"<br />
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"Because it makes christians mad."<br />
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"Why?"<br />
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"Because they think God hates fags."<br />
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"What's a fag?"<br />
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"It's a cigarette; now shut the f*ck up and look at the floats."<br />
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"What's f*ck?"<br />
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"It's what these guys like to do to each other, hence the parade. God, what are you, stupid?"<br />
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"I'm 3."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsZTn9kONgXQ0Lwlz3e5lkDgaw8QdJi46pCkvK9gOkMjwJUDDSD_WnWN8D4o02VazmXCuzQ5oz0NTq-oqgLf-iXBC-NAJee09w3wc80XgPM7OAsSiEQ_4oSc3waOevDOM-70ksEr5hTE/s1600/Toronto_Gay_Pride_2008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsZTn9kONgXQ0Lwlz3e5lkDgaw8QdJi46pCkvK9gOkMjwJUDDSD_WnWN8D4o02VazmXCuzQ5oz0NTq-oqgLf-iXBC-NAJee09w3wc80XgPM7OAsSiEQ_4oSc3waOevDOM-70ksEr5hTE/s320/Toronto_Gay_Pride_2008.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Then people wonder why I'm having this conversation with a total stranger's child. Hey, she asked. What was I supposed to do? Ignore the kid and be rude? <br />
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I hope you've read all the way through this post and understand, like I'm telling you now, that I feel no need to debate nit-picky issues and that being said, I'm not going to. If your opinion is negative in any way, your comment will never see the light of day here, so good luck with that. This post had the intent of opening avenues of thought and to make you laugh a little; it will not in any way shape or form fuel your agenda, no matter your stance.......... DONKEY PENIS!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxr5Gg-tKUZY8W8HmPPb9DGpoAecu0m-2_FcxRH3yTCfY68oN5oGcm9BQfDS1hkeiZgkl4Y0TauLe1vSczJwIjqkUoLXu9nq0RFhnqyJZCFkH9gN8QmMxkV8ou8eNVrccE-Ag_ywrFarw/s1600/new-scarf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxr5Gg-tKUZY8W8HmPPb9DGpoAecu0m-2_FcxRH3yTCfY68oN5oGcm9BQfDS1hkeiZgkl4Y0TauLe1vSczJwIjqkUoLXu9nq0RFhnqyJZCFkH9gN8QmMxkV8ou8eNVrccE-Ag_ywrFarw/s640/new-scarf.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-41274455169446672452011-10-12T09:22:00.000-07:002011-10-13T18:42:22.199-07:00That's Just... Special Needs?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtaCyFiD-KkvHOMlxmE0eiSEI7MRrZKd2QuexnMawccSgWuD2UHub7y2X6MW6B_pEV5eRta9AIIyWL-92pVA6qnQqi-E872OpY0WgUoOfcr7_ii9xWa-kpkQdceHPVQZGmgowuAdHgF9o/s1600/a-random-funny-09r-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtaCyFiD-KkvHOMlxmE0eiSEI7MRrZKd2QuexnMawccSgWuD2UHub7y2X6MW6B_pEV5eRta9AIIyWL-92pVA6qnQqi-E872OpY0WgUoOfcr7_ii9xWa-kpkQdceHPVQZGmgowuAdHgF9o/s320/a-random-funny-09r-7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
When I was a kid, we used to call each other names, like butt-head, momma's boy, and dingle-berry (those little chunks of poop that hang to the hair on your sphincter). We said things like, "I know you are, but what am I" and the other kid would try to say something new, as to expand their <i>vocabulary skills</i>. Some people said those things to make others feel bad, some people like me used to say them just to get a laugh out of everyone else, but most of the other kids used those words primarily to hear the words themselves come out of their mouth, as if it was some sort of a rite of passage into becoming an adult. Nowadays, I don't really think it's all that different. We call each other fagot, retard, nigger, spic, cracker, fat-ass, bitch, and sometimes Chester the child molester. A lot of the time, friends will use these words to joke around with each other without any kind of hostility; it's just a way for them to express their comfort level with each other and maybe get a laugh in here and there. The only difference between this and when we were kids is that all over the country, not only do people make videos of two chicks licking their own poop out of a cup, those terms are used within a context of deep-seeded hatred towards the people they speak against. I can't help it if I likes 'em young... and retarded....and usually wearing food themed costumes... which in a sense leads me to my subject for the day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEXzzZayLWtkQVi4W256CuxdmT2M5-Eg-EdyQJKYSi_6lMp4GpGY62644svYifqz7QWNHQN324YlWd0ywRH9cwmoUA1G7H3IJzQhVl3uuXGXhkMoaX7UpbvGWQlDS1Helj6UWsFxCaLE/s1600/31070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEXzzZayLWtkQVi4W256CuxdmT2M5-Eg-EdyQJKYSi_6lMp4GpGY62644svYifqz7QWNHQN324YlWd0ywRH9cwmoUA1G7H3IJzQhVl3uuXGXhkMoaX7UpbvGWQlDS1Helj6UWsFxCaLE/s320/31070.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I apologize in advance; this post is not about food themed costumes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqYg7J1mmYN99xiIST3dfG_7bn18PEJu3PULt6KWU8dfl1J0f5crr47iNvy3Ss91QcD3nEXoJyZ7DCQGPMcCAxcAcIKKeCw-NPRxU7XgLsWkT1pjv1DLjEVoJeoY3yUvfekPq1BRoDMo/s1600/CartmanRetarded.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqYg7J1mmYN99xiIST3dfG_7bn18PEJu3PULt6KWU8dfl1J0f5crr47iNvy3Ss91QcD3nEXoJyZ7DCQGPMcCAxcAcIKKeCw-NPRxU7XgLsWkT1pjv1DLjEVoJeoY3yUvfekPq1BRoDMo/s200/CartmanRetarded.jpg" width="184" /></a></div>
I don't usually go around calling people names (I have a much more colorful vocabulary to exercise), but I <i>do </i>appreciate being able to use words for their meaning without ignorant yuppies duct taping my mouth because they get offended in the name of other people, taking the blame to steal the credit in so many words. Ah, the college hippies and preppy schmucks in this world love to find things that'll make others notice them. They should find a cup and have at it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhaina_7FKGrwiK0EvHuvlPAhyphenhyphencOj8mzXcbWYWhFXWhl7PfIuwLJqLMYkSDH6RrA7d_1dtlqzzybk1MN9-NpJA8g_jRpkHpD4QeSMxfH9IrcNUY2w6uoMPTeMZzX-P6YJO48AWVPFWwE/s1600/396790_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhaina_7FKGrwiK0EvHuvlPAhyphenhyphencOj8mzXcbWYWhFXWhl7PfIuwLJqLMYkSDH6RrA7d_1dtlqzzybk1MN9-NpJA8g_jRpkHpD4QeSMxfH9IrcNUY2w6uoMPTeMZzX-P6YJO48AWVPFWwE/s320/396790_500.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
What I'm talking about mainly is the word <i>retarded</i>. Now so far I only know of a few uses for the word; someone that's mentally handicapped, when you think an idea or situation is dumb in nature (i.e. the fact Obama is still in office is retarded), or possibly when something is slow and doesn't work right (i.e. my printer is retarded). First of all, I want to go to the core of the word itself and find it, not in a back alley doling out penguins for smack, but in a dictionary somewhere... possibly looking for meth. Let's take a look at what it says at <a href="http://dictionary.com/">dictionary.com</a>: <br />
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<div style="color: orange;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>re·tard·ed</b></span></div>
<div class="header" style="color: orange;">
<span class="pronset"><noscript>&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;</noscript><span class="show_spellpr" style="display: inline;"><span class="prondelim"></span></span></span> </div>
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<span class="pg"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;"> adjective</span> </span></span></div>
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<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">1.</span> </span></span></div>
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<span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">characterized</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">by</span><i><b> </b></i></span><i><b><a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/retardation" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;">retardation</a></b></i><span id="hotword">: </span> <span class="ital-inline"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">retarded</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">child.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="ital-inline"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="ital-inline"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;"> </span> </span></span><span class="pg"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span class="pg"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;"> noun</span></span></span></div>
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<div class="pbk">
<div style="color: orange;">
<span class="pg"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">2. </span> </span></span></div>
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<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: pointer;"></span> </span></span></div>
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<span class="labset"><span id="hotword">( </span><span class="ital-inline"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">used</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">with</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">plural</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">verb</span> </span></span><img alt="" border="0" class="luna-Img" src="http://sp.dictionary.com/dictstatic/dictionary/graphics/luna/thinsp.png" /><span id="hotword">) </span></span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">mentally</span> </span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">retarded</span> </span><span id="hotword"> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">persons</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">collectively</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">(usually</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">preceded</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">by</span> </span><span class="ital-inline"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">the</span> </span></span><span id="hotword">): </span><span class="ital-inline"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">new</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">schools</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">for</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">retarded.</span></span></span></div>
<span class="ital-inline"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword"> </span> </span></span></div>
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But now lookie what somebody snuck in at <a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/">thefreedictionary</a>.com: <br />
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<span class="hw">re·tard·ed</span> <span class="pron">(r<img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/ibreve.gif" />-tär<img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/prime.gif" />d<img align="absbottom" src="http://img.tfd.com/hm/GIF/ibreve.gif" />d)</span></div>
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<i>adj.</i></div>
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<b>1.<u> </u></b> <u><i>Often Offensive</i> </u>Affected with mental retardation.</div>
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<b>2. </b> Occurring or developing later than desired or expected; delayed. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-eLow6Rgvg-5qWK6uDGNlbOMAVQuviBZjvDyxPqnC4pvLsXyDSXzIypcaOYewS3_pKJptt4upX8kd_K44vjReX7zbjj3PF7wmvDXvx6ztYRzOI_D3ANNToKh9-tU6Z78Vr0f274p_Es/s1600/funny-celebrity-pictures-normally-im-not-retarded-but-look-at-this-dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-eLow6Rgvg-5qWK6uDGNlbOMAVQuviBZjvDyxPqnC4pvLsXyDSXzIypcaOYewS3_pKJptt4upX8kd_K44vjReX7zbjj3PF7wmvDXvx6ztYRzOI_D3ANNToKh9-tU6Z78Vr0f274p_Es/s400/funny-celebrity-pictures-normally-im-not-retarded-but-look-at-this-dog.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Often offensive? Why does that definition have nothing to do with the second one? One of them is the actual definition, the other one sneaks in a little usage in there; but it's completely subjective as to what's offensive, isn't it? Here's my point. I have someone in my family that is mentally retarded. If I talk about him to anyone, that's what I say. I say he's retarded. I've been told that he's not retarded, he's a <i>special needs child</i>, or he's mentally handicapped. I don't see a difference other than the fact that people these days don't want to face the truth. If a child is <i>mentally handicapped</i>, they're retarded by definition. I know you feel bad for them; I do too, but you're acting retarded.... and stop licking that doorknob!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpm7xf_TRCVYciyu_bOf6IHdYHAWCHqOw0yc0ZWnmZGV5HXs7Z1H-HUHgE40lF-ceeiI4sfeyW9JrX_pASoIlOltc4EHX-5b0NMFJQJJ8X_OSgiVDF8evz5c93SjiAtScd64QHs6rINu0/s1600/batman-retarded.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpm7xf_TRCVYciyu_bOf6IHdYHAWCHqOw0yc0ZWnmZGV5HXs7Z1H-HUHgE40lF-ceeiI4sfeyW9JrX_pASoIlOltc4EHX-5b0NMFJQJJ8X_OSgiVDF8evz5c93SjiAtScd64QHs6rINu0/s320/batman-retarded.jpg" width="314" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP81MEfFyux6iLAYBrl12oOyC0UiFboBh65UnVCa90QrXfsu2nCP2E2Y3bW6tQzA4s85I-5BifrESwtLNP0hyphenhyphenx9Nw9XzVwTBcpX-GcN7xjTkMeoKge-CPEA8K72XeaFcyVkzOGxkBuJsE/s1600/Retarded.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP81MEfFyux6iLAYBrl12oOyC0UiFboBh65UnVCa90QrXfsu2nCP2E2Y3bW6tQzA4s85I-5BifrESwtLNP0hyphenhyphenx9Nw9XzVwTBcpX-GcN7xjTkMeoKge-CPEA8K72XeaFcyVkzOGxkBuJsE/s320/Retarded.jpg" width="297" /></a></div>
Let's talk about the term <i>special needs</i>. I have an overwhelming urge to get off at least five times a day, so much in fact it impairs my better judgment (there's a little fun fact about me for you). That's a special need. You can call it a want, an addiction, or even a hobby; I call it a need. Smokers have the ability to choose to quit smoking... or do they? Most of them <i>need </i>to smoke, otherwise they wouldn't keep doing it for lack of better judgment. Some people smoke those godawful clove cigarettes. I'd consider those people in the special needs category. Circus clowns who have to wear custom-made, comically large, medically prescribed shoes because they have comically large flat feet. That's pretty special. My point is, you can use the term for a wide diversity of things without ever touching on the mental aspect. <i>Retarded</i> means <i>retarded</i> when earnestly describing a person. There are those who call it "the R word". Seriously? I'm sorry you're not able to handle a group of letters made to create a sound that comes out of your mouth and is used in a derogatory or vulgar way, but you can't simply erase the words themselves and replace them with more flowery words in an attempt to mask your insecurities about what it means. If <i>everyone</i> did that, we could lose the words <b>tease, cow, chicken, whale, toothpick, fairy, cupcake, princess, spade, eggplant, yellow, cracker, jerk, junior, and fruity</b> just to name a few. If you really want to split hairs, the word <b><i>special</i> </b>is used for people to make fun of each other by insinuating they're retarded. Let's get rid of that one too. We'll have to come up with yet another charmingly spoken, non-offensive sidestep term for a word we already have. Let's just call them<b> <i>not</i></b> retarded. That's what you're going for isn't it? If they're not retarded, you should be able to call them, <i>not retarded</i>. Yet, you come up with a new term that means the same thing in order to push your agenda that the person in question isn't retarded, they're just underdeveloped mentally. Wait..... We <b>HAVE</b> a word for that! It's called, <i>retarded</i>. If they <i>are</i> retarded, you should be able to call them retarded. Sorry, but we don't have a word that means <i>retarded but not retarded</i>. I doubt we ever will. We <i>might,</i> however, have solar powered socks one day... I don't know the science behind it, but doesn't it sound expensive?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlnzFpBWQ_BGXKMFn9TKJI0KJoipJvcDRfz9JwOUe1EbiPcTWZm38_DAGuUB2Ct7d0Td3N4nUBn164MVTA-a_hQAqQ903Eu8eVtmBcY8PNvHuVL1ipfoAPUuL9wnl-sBy3SC-jQhresNA/s1600/rappers-bling-jewelry-retarded-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlnzFpBWQ_BGXKMFn9TKJI0KJoipJvcDRfz9JwOUe1EbiPcTWZm38_DAGuUB2Ct7d0Td3N4nUBn164MVTA-a_hQAqQ903Eu8eVtmBcY8PNvHuVL1ipfoAPUuL9wnl-sBy3SC-jQhresNA/s320/rappers-bling-jewelry-retarded-3.jpg" width="320" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>This is what retarded looks like with money.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8kG7bNiQJvUFUmld1NR_EOtKas2aVLFMx-gX-PGa5jZzNvolY_xe9C2FGRX0-bSJphI0GU8wXpuAQs30_ZdSxtmlgKlizeFm1ObSF8mKIfZbRyfB5WL0nAsRpP3tkRcqcbIyQR0xSQxk/s1600/funny_pictures_helicopter_head.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8kG7bNiQJvUFUmld1NR_EOtKas2aVLFMx-gX-PGa5jZzNvolY_xe9C2FGRX0-bSJphI0GU8wXpuAQs30_ZdSxtmlgKlizeFm1ObSF8mKIfZbRyfB5WL0nAsRpP3tkRcqcbIyQR0xSQxk/s320/funny_pictures_helicopter_head.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I just thought this was funny. Enjoy.</i></td></tr>
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Don't get me wrong, the word <i>retard</i> isn't really necessary, even though it has a hint of meaning the same thing; it's use is always derogatory and I can understand when someone takes offense, but that's still no reason to deny others' freedom of speech. I don't care what people call me, they're allowed to say anything they like, and in return I'm allowed to say anything I like. That's the way freedom works. Instead you have all of these stuck-up bigots with retarded kids and nothing better to do, trying to take freedoms away, knowing full well that there isn't one single retarded child taking offense.<br />
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So, the message for today is: Stop trying to pretend certain words shouldn't exist because of the way others use them. Not only that, stop getting offended about every little thing! The rest of us are running out of room to breathe. Besides, ff you really want to replace the word <i>retarded </i>with another word that has similar meaning........ how about, <i>Juggalo</i>?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ0YfFZhGMbiV6maBWFUFnat6aa7p1wBeJLeOcPzXtMH_tHPmvcsw5OOiq6y92KIeZaVHIMJfUzCBRiYCeCaDOjycVZj89xmWkyDFFIRT5Sc3-KUSHWGdTp1TITVWpniI-i4sh_soJps/s1600/Pic-31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ0YfFZhGMbiV6maBWFUFnat6aa7p1wBeJLeOcPzXtMH_tHPmvcsw5OOiq6y92KIeZaVHIMJfUzCBRiYCeCaDOjycVZj89xmWkyDFFIRT5Sc3-KUSHWGdTp1TITVWpniI-i4sh_soJps/s400/Pic-31.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-89396474170772564402011-10-04T18:37:00.000-07:002011-10-05T08:24:24.211-07:00Pro Life, Pro Death, Pro Choice, Pro Choiceless<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiurbCM3vuWnHOlC3XAoR_2md53qUP1JyGH3EL-5ShDbF2R04Bngs1OBcH2Y-vXxZEDjgfumjY9nlbAMjwelerpUgc48r30GaT9HX24KG7t2Memyb5zBzlQ8OnsdvvFX8uxw9bivlzKrW8/s1600/abortion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiurbCM3vuWnHOlC3XAoR_2md53qUP1JyGH3EL-5ShDbF2R04Bngs1OBcH2Y-vXxZEDjgfumjY9nlbAMjwelerpUgc48r30GaT9HX24KG7t2Memyb5zBzlQ8OnsdvvFX8uxw9bivlzKrW8/s320/abortion.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Sometimes, there's a need to be serious. This is not one of those times; but if I'm known for one thing, I'm known for controversy. Why? Because it's fun and it's free. It's fun because people get offended all day long and I was put on this Earth by God himself to put my finger in your face and poke you over and over, asking you if it's annoying yet. Why do people get mad because you dislike, disagree, teach/preach against whatever it is they're promoting? That's simple. People hate your opinion because they want their peers to think their opinion is right. When you challenge that absolute authority, you're trying to get a piece of the lion's elk. Sometimes you can have the end that loosened up postmortem, but they usually save that end for <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0004980/">Kathy Griffin</a>.<br />
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People ask all the time, are you <i>"pro choice" </i>or <i>"pro life" </i>? Do they ask because they're curious like asking you your favorite color? Hardly. They ask you because they're dying to tell you their stance on the issue and most likely want to debate you on the matter if your opinion differs from theirs. People love to shove highly debatable grenades in your anus, just to see if it explodes out of your mouth. Now me, I like anus bazookas... That came out wrong... What I meant was, I enjoy shoving back; especially with points that make sense. I hope no one got as turned on as I did right there... Did they?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRWPItUQugSp0W9sxpHMyDavYVngA3UIwvijx6OKDotSWoehA0rJnNWmPnCbRcm9fNyGuFuX0xeC_Qd-EPqM-IeAoxtSKYsb79CsmcMHvC4agdPhSzUDXvQKmQq_Ed74PSsymW5VVXX6c/s1600/2711_1356_abortion-protest-prank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRWPItUQugSp0W9sxpHMyDavYVngA3UIwvijx6OKDotSWoehA0rJnNWmPnCbRcm9fNyGuFuX0xeC_Qd-EPqM-IeAoxtSKYsb79CsmcMHvC4agdPhSzUDXvQKmQq_Ed74PSsymW5VVXX6c/s320/2711_1356_abortion-protest-prank.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
See, I have no idea how long people will argue about whether or not abortion is morally right or wrong, but that's not the only way to argue the issue. First of all, Why are the two stances called<i> <b>Pro life</b></i> and <i><b>Pro choice</b></i>? Either you're aborting the baby or you're not aborting the baby, right? Aren't those opposite choices? Either you do it, or you don't do it. (Kind of like... you got raped by a gang of 80-year-old women dressed as Storm Troopers, or you <i>didn't</i> get raped by 80-year-old women dressed as Storm Troopers.) Maybe they should be named as such. Instead of calling it Pro <i>life </i>and Pro <i>choice</i>, call it Pro life and Pro death (or even "Pro <i>prevent</i> life"). Why don't they call it pro death? That's pretty obvious; no one can push their agenda when they blatantly say they favor death. What's funny is, Pro <i>life</i> is in the perspective of the baby, Pro <i>choice </i>is in the perspective of the mother. Isn't that a little odd, that one "choice" is named to favor the one that can't consciously make a decision and one "choice" favors one that can? On the other side of the coin we could always call it Pro <i>choice </i>and Pro <i>choiceless</i>. In this scenario, Pro <i>choice </i>being in the perspective of the mother and Pros <i>choiceless </i>being in the perspective of the baby. Seems only fair, don't you think?<br />
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You would think if it's the woman's body and she has the right to make the choice to play God, whether or not to give someone the chance to live, then the state should have a right to also play God and tie that b*itch's tubes so she'll never have the need to make the choice in the first place. Did that sound a little harsh? I mean, gee Wally... How do I even know this woman we're talking about is a b*tch in the first place? I don't know, probably because she's erasing some guy's future wife, who lightly kisses him and wraps her arms around him when he gets home from work, or some little girl's father who teaches her how to ride a bike and put sprinkles on her cookies...I might be an *sshole, but I'm a softy *sshole... Now that I think about it, that sounds like a horrible ice cream flavor.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQEwyWFNHgikjEowerzj94GishDmfho1CL7REQURsOLyyzodL3_OQRDHXKFZJ91EckZB4H83tQyA0aZPH0V32wqbZnN0U_XzX_zhnEVD3utvjTZ439D_8AtEW6LPbFzHAAEAWgGOCH2E/s1600/hilarious.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQEwyWFNHgikjEowerzj94GishDmfho1CL7REQURsOLyyzodL3_OQRDHXKFZJ91EckZB4H83tQyA0aZPH0V32wqbZnN0U_XzX_zhnEVD3utvjTZ439D_8AtEW6LPbFzHAAEAWgGOCH2E/s1600/hilarious.jpeg" /></a></div>
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In fact, no one that's aborted as a fetus, will never get to experience any joys in life. They'll never get to have kids of their own or watch a sunset. They'll never fall in love, read a book, drive a car, fly in an airplane, get corn stuck in their teeth, or crap their pants because they trusted that fart too much. Even with all of these things that these women prevent on an emotional level, I don't really think arguing emotionally will solve a problem. Everything should make sense on a logical level as well, which is why I think the choices themselves should be renamed to reflect the reality in the contrast. That, and I think<a href="http://www.olivegarden.com/"> Olive Garden</a> should be renamed "<b>Stand Outside and Wait Three Hours for Obese Southerners to Finish Eating</b>".<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLzj43Cg9dn47oDOLyvQ3afS81iHoC_9mQzqMu1_icRBG6d5qxo_IHBF2RSVVpGxWajLiJMlKhWp2YBmCAKtIZL9SWWPH6V4ZoUGP9-Pq9Rwf93i01_-7c5tGnzqBJlqXzbydf3DrnPc/s1600/miscarriage-5000-points-biscuits-abortion-birth-control-zeld-demotivational-poster-1222992585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLzj43Cg9dn47oDOLyvQ3afS81iHoC_9mQzqMu1_icRBG6d5qxo_IHBF2RSVVpGxWajLiJMlKhWp2YBmCAKtIZL9SWWPH6V4ZoUGP9-Pq9Rwf93i01_-7c5tGnzqBJlqXzbydf3DrnPc/s400/miscarriage-5000-points-biscuits-abortion-birth-control-zeld-demotivational-poster-1222992585.jpg" width="301" /></a></div>
But let's think about it another way. Let's say a woman considers herself professional; she has a career, a mortgage, an unwillingness to close her legs; a whole <b>life</b> ahead of her. I agree having a baby isn't the most logical choice to make. Deciding what color to paint the walls in the bathroom is a big decision too. (if you trust your farts too often, you'll be seeing those walls a lot) However, one choice ends or prevents the life of a human, the other merely inconveniences another. Of course there are cases where there could be complications and having the baby could kill the mother. I mean.... no person would sacrifice their life for their child, right? That would just be too noble to give up a part-time job at Starbucks. The fact of the matter is in most cases, you do something that can result in unwanted consequences and somehow you can dispose of those consequences, like spending actual money to see <a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/village/">The Village</a>. I can't get that money back, people. But this isn't a movie that can be over with in a couple of hours. This is something that the natural process will turn into a human life, something that's more valuable than your budget, your car, your cell phone bill, your career, and your newly painted bathroom combined. There is no excuse someone can come up with that will justify what was more important than letting that baby be born. Nothing. The baby's gonna be retarded (excuse me, <i>mentally</i> retarded)? My nephew is like that and he's the best behaved, most awesome child you'll ever meet. The experiences he's given the people around him since he's been born are priceless. Plus, as he gets older, his poop gets bigger and that's just hilarious for whoever has to clean that up.<br />
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With everything else in life, people have to take responsibility for the choices they make. Not this time bubba. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joe_Pesci">Joe Pesci</a> comes over and says, "scrape that tissue, end the issue" (You can quote me on that, you heard it here first folks.) it's a little hard to whack an embryo from the inside with a baseball bat, but you'd be surprised how resourceful Italians can be. I know; they tell me all the time.<br />
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Anyway, that's enough for today. Tune in next time when I wear my underwear backwards to ward off those little river bugs that crawl up your pee hole. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-47287528954906357982011-09-22T09:40:00.000-07:002011-09-22T10:40:30.513-07:00Facebook Changes and You Can't Stand It<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9a6MaNm3N52N5P5_JMF6UEV3-WlrnfWHjz9FANqx6VjVJCjJ7TmMl8sAehjLHWgRpwI9W0E03jy_a61F5WmSuiUoo3c_EbcLNAhlaS1VfWg3ympm3JLVyJbxoOWlAfboq34ng9sIp9Ns/s1600/a1385_thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhShyC_kU6-eCQ8IpnZlpQfNR2PxQBTyOnmbRB9LLM5lGVrRwmUqjRvaSCj5BO9KF9tsd381r5bY6WR0HJ7lbkQ1RpA3BHEejOUcRhyphenhyphen76sMO-IvqIWpxrx3wn4wViR5pECVVulJuVPWRJs/s1600/statue+pee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhShyC_kU6-eCQ8IpnZlpQfNR2PxQBTyOnmbRB9LLM5lGVrRwmUqjRvaSCj5BO9KF9tsd381r5bY6WR0HJ7lbkQ1RpA3BHEejOUcRhyphenhyphen76sMO-IvqIWpxrx3wn4wViR5pECVVulJuVPWRJs/s320/statue+pee.jpg" width="320" /></a>I've been hearing rumors going around lately that it stings when I pee. Why is it I'm always the last to hear about these things? You would think for once I could be the one to come up with a new rumor, but every time I think of something, I have to stop what I'm doing to go to the bathroom... and it hurts really bad.<br />
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People have been complaining a lot lately about what Facebook is doing with its interface. Apparently people dislike change; so much in fact, they use Facebook's new interface to bitch about Facebook's new interface. All day long for at least the last two days I've seen statuses pop up basically stating that Facebook needs to stop changing the mechanics in how we use it to convey important information like what song lyrics explain our entire lives, which chain letter about Jesus and breast cancer we can copy and paste from our alcoholic aunt's wall to guilt trip our double cousin into "raising awareness", and finding just the right angle to capture the artistic pulchritude of the cleavage while still maintaining the integrity of the bathroom sink. Our day-to-day lives are so crucially important in fact, if we don't find a music video from the 80's on Youtube to share with "friends of friends" that coincide with our mood immediately, the moment will be lost forever and some guy in Birmingham Alabama will never understand why I got mad when my strawberries in Farmville didn't show up. I can't tell you how many times I needed those few extra seconds that the newly interfaced news stream stole from me, the twelve second, low quality video that my one good friend (I can't remember her name at the moment) uploaded of her cat sitting on the toilet seat like a little person almost interfered with my work schedule. I blame Facebook for that.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7STLjbOrVkBfsg8AU7VZKUAsIza6o5Yzymmi4lYbobPVYVuAuktjok6b5mMTw1rQwtg0jDU7kg1lQ1HVpYRIH7pKCJUf5HEnWPtkYeGE7moZsQHXGlYArZzl1GaA8XnK2ksqfM1kiIak/s1600/farmville-glitch-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7STLjbOrVkBfsg8AU7VZKUAsIza6o5Yzymmi4lYbobPVYVuAuktjok6b5mMTw1rQwtg0jDU7kg1lQ1HVpYRIH7pKCJUf5HEnWPtkYeGE7moZsQHXGlYArZzl1GaA8XnK2ksqfM1kiIak/s320/farmville-glitch-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7Yb78UhZ-If2TAI71KZybLamvffTtaaPW9wmf7EYgx8j7XGxMqv0C6L4IOBTFh0-gDr8NibFoyUB4eYQFoIJtznfGnU-MqSawRxmyU_hKP2GN5LlIhbTCdUfgVtvnTVjk0eaOo-NY7s/s1600/cat_toilet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7Yb78UhZ-If2TAI71KZybLamvffTtaaPW9wmf7EYgx8j7XGxMqv0C6L4IOBTFh0-gDr8NibFoyUB4eYQFoIJtznfGnU-MqSawRxmyU_hKP2GN5LlIhbTCdUfgVtvnTVjk0eaOo-NY7s/s1600/cat_toilet.jpg" /> </a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Meet singles in your area now!... They all look like this, I swear!"</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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It's become so difficult to do anything on there now, they should know me well enough that not only do I enjoy clicking on the stock photos of big breasted teenagers on the side bar, I also can't learn good. Do they really expect me to take an extra three minutes to get used to all the changes they made? I have to keep up with what my Sim is doing before it goes into the red! Do you understand the gravity of the situation? It's already going to take up most of my free time tagging myself in the two hundred and eighty four pictures my sister uploaded yesterday from her ultrasound. Facebook needs to understand that I'm a big deal and if I don't comment about how everything is epic and awesome sauce with enough time to watch Rebecca Black's impersonation of a telephone operator, I'm just going to delete my account and say to hell with it. I totally didn't know that yesterday was Thursday, today it is Friday, tomorrow is Saturday and Sunday is afterwords, and I need my news feed to be back the way it was... back when life was simpler.<br />
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Facebook doesn't need to worry about making money and it sure as hell doesn't need to try to find new ways to advertise so companies can get their products to sell by using my interests and key words that I talk about on my wall. They have no idea what I want. They don't know anything about what's going on with my friends, like when Brad called Jenny a bitch 'cause she's totally a skank and she cheated on her boyfriends when she was drunk and now she's pregnant with twins. We all deal with important issues that facebook doesn't even know about and can't relate to on a personal level; like this time we all got some coke and broke into the book store because we wanted to see if there was a book on shutting off alarms and window repair. Facebook doesn't even care about Jesus because it didn't copy and paste a poem about the troops. Whoever doesn't agree with everything I post is an idiot and they don't love God the way I do.<br />
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The fact of the matter is that Facebook is ultimately a business and they make money by other companies getting to advertise their products to you. That's all it's about. It's not about you; it never was. Every time Facebook changes something, people bitch about it and eventually get used to it, then they bitch about it next time and eventually get used to it. Are we getting the picture? People hate change. That's all it comes down to. Things these days change on a daily basis and Facebook isn't any different. Some day Facebook will be gone and something new will take it's place. Until then, have fun bitching about your news feed and not unimportant things like famine, war, and the economy. Besides, I don't know what the news is anyway... I can't seem to figure this f*$%ing Facebook thing out.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-83920426958314622772011-08-23T22:32:00.000-07:002011-08-23T22:32:28.354-07:00DC Comics Negates My Ability to Count With the New 52<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_IVHsN-IiXAE51DZwGr37GPrbGx6rlK_8yxj23oiLyPJ7X4pRLWdMOzWH2ZosYE2wNqUwSecxEsJGVThfW5hgNUA86-T3gLzJ7lpX-xf-Szczl7r5E2ItD54L6Oldt26axP8IyXKjwtM/s1600/raw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_IVHsN-IiXAE51DZwGr37GPrbGx6rlK_8yxj23oiLyPJ7X4pRLWdMOzWH2ZosYE2wNqUwSecxEsJGVThfW5hgNUA86-T3gLzJ7lpX-xf-Szczl7r5E2ItD54L6Oldt26axP8IyXKjwtM/s320/raw.jpg" width="320" /></a>To clear the air in so many words, this article may appear smooth and fluid, but that's really only because <i>I</i> am. I wouldn't quite call Taco Bell Mexican food per se, but it wouldn't be lying to consider it a class four narcotic, in that it places you ever so softly in another plane of existence where poop and farts are the same thing. Do you remember the Bog of Eternal Stench in the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091369/">Labyrinth</a>? Imagine instead of you falling into<i> it</i>, it falls out of <i>you</i>...very quickly.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSP82OWaePpovQvXcDwB9nop9ewAs7sxEPMNJyZw_OafWA9TfJRPbtzVJWEx5UZheUMGPXnKQJLZd5R-SGAf3GurMg5k1LQ8ETTiZtIQSUeBghVQhCOch8tURN1RWcsFafxg88dfDADNs/s1600/52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSP82OWaePpovQvXcDwB9nop9ewAs7sxEPMNJyZw_OafWA9TfJRPbtzVJWEx5UZheUMGPXnKQJLZd5R-SGAf3GurMg5k1LQ8ETTiZtIQSUeBghVQhCOch8tURN1RWcsFafxg88dfDADNs/s200/52.jpg" width="129" /></a>Getting into the subject matter at hand. DC comics has announced that it would be rebooting a crap ton of titles, starting the issues off at number one. This has been circulating around the internet for some time and I'm just getting around to writing about it now because, well, I have a life and I get laid on a regular basis. DC is calling this the New 52. You can see a video about it<a href="http://dcu.blog.dccomics.com/the-new-52/"> here</a>. You can also see another completely unrelated video <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0K0CIiwSMM&feature=related">here</a>. (Just for the sake of argument, there are probably millions of people that don't know DC stands for Detective Comics; and to say DC Comics is actually saying Detective Comics Comics. Whether you care to know this little crumpet of information is irrelevant. The mere fact that you read it gives you a better chance of never unlearning it. You're welcome.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLJ36nI0-7PqtVnjj9ovUO1JcXPGahKIbbvZc1DqzfNf6ovUp4L5hc1t4mk4wivhzknA0luzeBJlzGgmm8T1Ycl2MHtoQICC1cki4m8_d73UXh63f5XyIygWUOh-m3a2tAJ_jasscGFU/s1600/The-new-52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLJ36nI0-7PqtVnjj9ovUO1JcXPGahKIbbvZc1DqzfNf6ovUp4L5hc1t4mk4wivhzknA0luzeBJlzGgmm8T1Ycl2MHtoQICC1cki4m8_d73UXh63f5XyIygWUOh-m3a2tAJ_jasscGFU/s640/The-new-52.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiEGzzQ40rlf5fvuEiwHi51Xww1tKU9tngajKu8eznR4kBDYTq100KaUlAAKRDN0ACOWRhkywswBcSoLF6zW16-wJdzvnXHVL3J9OBRhz0_-Cri5UUa159LgPzlyR-n7G2xjIBb_begAY/s1600/15599426xfy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiEGzzQ40rlf5fvuEiwHi51Xww1tKU9tngajKu8eznR4kBDYTq100KaUlAAKRDN0ACOWRhkywswBcSoLF6zW16-wJdzvnXHVL3J9OBRhz0_-Cri5UUa159LgPzlyR-n7G2xjIBb_begAY/s200/15599426xfy.jpg" width="135" /></a>Being a Batman fan (and professional funeral home voyeur), I'm not only infuriated that now I have to make yet another separator for the newly numbered Batman titles, I'm even more disappointed that those rich bastards at DC didn't have the decency to at least take the issues to #1,000. With Detective comics alone, they only had about ten years and three more young boys in tights to go. By that time they'd almost have a complete cast for Swan Lake. I was told by several gas station restroom informants that this is mainly just a hail mary pass by DC to get their numbers up. DC says it's to introduce new readers with a fresh start so they can feel more welcome into a brand new series. I say it's because corporations enjoy taking huge, watery yet chunky dumps into the interests of the consumers to see how much loose Taco Bell s*#t they can get away with. The worst part is that they don't even give you napkins to wipe your fan boy mouth off while you're shoveling in their recycled, corn infested crap... I think I saw a peanut in there somewhere too...<br />
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On the bright side, DC is revamping a lot of the character costumes, cover logos, and in the middle of every issue, a splash page of <a href="http://didio/">Dan Didio</a> bending over and showing you his bare ass with the word "<b>SUCKER</b>" in bold lettering at the top; because let's face it, if you're into heroes like Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Clint Howard, you'll pretty much buy anything with their face on it.<br />
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-60983698252554216432011-07-22T17:56:00.000-07:002011-07-22T17:57:39.298-07:00Hide Yo Kids, Hide Yo Wife<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3JmeU81EgVDlZm3v3IgDj4FZ9_GxaOHVId_PyPV4pb_xNwu-1n87cu5AfrteS0llwmdRw7LjO2363iwAoBXB59Fg1G55rNnIVcs1FdkXVEcVHOBniWta1Q_vv-iAQBBMQvQ2P1kNb5xQ/s1600/casey-anthony-oj-hide-yo-kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3JmeU81EgVDlZm3v3IgDj4FZ9_GxaOHVId_PyPV4pb_xNwu-1n87cu5AfrteS0llwmdRw7LjO2363iwAoBXB59Fg1G55rNnIVcs1FdkXVEcVHOBniWta1Q_vv-iAQBBMQvQ2P1kNb5xQ/s400/casey-anthony-oj-hide-yo-kids.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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It might be more practical to hide yo defense attorneys.<br />
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</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-22285297201019933732011-06-30T11:58:00.000-07:002011-06-30T11:59:36.781-07:00The Battle of the Century: Batman VS Jesus Christ<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQx6rCpM_g_sf1pvbjDPRrUj6VBVuLPEi5pKJmpLpqhEssmuRBOXZmxurrlU8mbQRLvPsSv0opS-fQagHwF14Fv4z4E3QqlTh84SFcSDfvH1-vOMEhsALizSTv0E7YY6iCnNUTXCxh4w/s1600/Batman+Jesus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQx6rCpM_g_sf1pvbjDPRrUj6VBVuLPEi5pKJmpLpqhEssmuRBOXZmxurrlU8mbQRLvPsSv0opS-fQagHwF14Fv4z4E3QqlTh84SFcSDfvH1-vOMEhsALizSTv0E7YY6iCnNUTXCxh4w/s320/Batman+Jesus.jpg" width="320" /></a>There have been many heroes throughout history; some from a fictional world where anything can happen, some from the real world where anything rarely happens, and some from Connecticut. One of my favorites of all time is Batman, the Dark Knight himself. Batman is not only one of the world's greatest martial artists, arguably the world's greatest detective, and the protector of Gotham City, but thanks to his appearances in the Justice League, he has also had a hand in saving the world/universe/multiverse countless times.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZ39qs3WcezW0JNqBpesMS5RGt9sjvx6Mhxs-Q1Pia_QghYrIgLzJpVb2rbYS12-8Mo1a2klPhdXlSJahPJEHdQbP3GYl7vCE1RZCdwrnca0Q-u4LB4a4uiglMDBu6i49Z48zoJKoOxE/s1600/189633-david_ramirez_super.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZ39qs3WcezW0JNqBpesMS5RGt9sjvx6Mhxs-Q1Pia_QghYrIgLzJpVb2rbYS12-8Mo1a2klPhdXlSJahPJEHdQbP3GYl7vCE1RZCdwrnca0Q-u4LB4a4uiglMDBu6i49Z48zoJKoOxE/s320/189633-david_ramirez_super.png" width="320" /></a>On the other side of the Red Sea, we have what some believers would call the Savior of the world, the Redeemer of mankind, the King of the Jews, the Son of God, the Messiah, that guy, and sometimes Alex..... Jesus Christ. Some Atheists and non-believers would argue whether or not Jesus even lived, but somehow everyone agrees Dragon Ball GT still exists. Apples and oranges...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimS_nLo1eRKBH2P9ifsVCIFoDnJGaeQRvAH2CwAnk053iZRLVoHH7RTBXRLYUD27IZvZO4KWoZ5JUDDelTRoJT9sZPAy1jWxIGX3tPO-YCKXJcfHTqQO7X5SfsCAyXcwZ5XBI0xz1VOuU/s1600/quakerz.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimS_nLo1eRKBH2P9ifsVCIFoDnJGaeQRvAH2CwAnk053iZRLVoHH7RTBXRLYUD27IZvZO4KWoZ5JUDDelTRoJT9sZPAy1jWxIGX3tPO-YCKXJcfHTqQO7X5SfsCAyXcwZ5XBI0xz1VOuU/s200/quakerz.png" width="190" /></a>I saw a post somewhere about who would win in a fight, Batman or Jesus. The winner is clear in this scenario; Jesus is a Quaker. There's no real comparison between who is a better fighter, so I chose to compare the super sleuth and the super jewth by who is the better savior/hero overall. I'll try to be as fair as I can be and give each characteristic I find worthy of the title points from a 1-10 basis and comparing the total at the end.<br />
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So, here goes; the Battle of the Century: Batman vs. Jesus Christ!<br />
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Jesus: Gets his father, God to forgive the sins of the world - 10 points<br />
Batman: Gets his butler to wash his tights - 3 points<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF9mLBOea-vvFSocVQGUsO3ig_-KW6COQ513vfXMGnOzW4yZ_gIM66MA8kGPmtQUNdO8nA6nO4M1gUCG1a1FrbJXz-hMINT0SM3H3pFcd89GCp96rSBGvtJd0ATDIkWPy0d611DOi9a-g/s1600/Bruce-Batman-Alfred.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF9mLBOea-vvFSocVQGUsO3ig_-KW6COQ513vfXMGnOzW4yZ_gIM66MA8kGPmtQUNdO8nA6nO4M1gUCG1a1FrbJXz-hMINT0SM3H3pFcd89GCp96rSBGvtJd0ATDIkWPy0d611DOi9a-g/s1600/Bruce-Batman-Alfred.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Jesus: "Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord. I shall repay." Jesus lets his dad do his fighting for him - 2 points<br />
Batman: Vows to take vengeance against all evil doers, so good people don't have to suffer loss like he did -<br />
10 points<br />
<br />
Jesus: Willingly gets beaten mercilessly to save the world (that takes some balls) - 7 points<br />
Batman: Kicks much ass to save the world - 8 points<br />
JFK: died in a car - 3 points<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipgK0UIu9iw0sRoMH7dchLN2blO82ODWRcGeSb89tV8XEumAaEifXRoJsstj6HL6xFM0wMCN2xj5TO04NM4gbjLhMkZJe81Qw1mWaMU4QvTfhGttq1JZawu_FbIN4lQkQeMIYkbX2i-Ms/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipgK0UIu9iw0sRoMH7dchLN2blO82ODWRcGeSb89tV8XEumAaEifXRoJsstj6HL6xFM0wMCN2xj5TO04NM4gbjLhMkZJe81Qw1mWaMU4QvTfhGttq1JZawu_FbIN4lQkQeMIYkbX2i-Ms/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Jesus: God is his co-pilot - 9 points<br />
Batman: a young boy in pixie boots is his co-pilot - 2 points<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZ3SWEhAnGBunY_fTeR0vXBvaWGTo5oEubqkZ1u-rrW5OEgfqa0plgNy5xNYVYeddMIiW5vz74UOoj2OL7aNt1j8GLdqVh7rJx9iFyQAXYj-fyLPiX2mWFn-1ChKS0yw350T7OBUIIWI/s1600/robin-golden-age1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZ3SWEhAnGBunY_fTeR0vXBvaWGTo5oEubqkZ1u-rrW5OEgfqa0plgNy5xNYVYeddMIiW5vz74UOoj2OL7aNt1j8GLdqVh7rJx9iFyQAXYj-fyLPiX2mWFn-1ChKS0yw350T7OBUIIWI/s320/robin-golden-age1.png" width="205" /></a></div><br />
Jesus: Takes the wheel for country singers that also sing about slashing tires and busting headlights with a<br />
Louisville Slugger - 5 points<br />
Batman: takes four wheels and builds his own car - 7 points<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP59ypMPXof6kEYXhfi9AAPcAk5D8Ave-RI0QT26PjV82dzW4j8gvyYv1VfvpXy0LqLj0IYNxHOU2WjNF0Xypa7NzJyt86XrR6FY2BjSQtCQ5-BkktLyloudPHExTgL7v56vPmsDbvvhM/s1600/Carrie_Underwood_before_and_after_weight_loss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP59ypMPXof6kEYXhfi9AAPcAk5D8Ave-RI0QT26PjV82dzW4j8gvyYv1VfvpXy0LqLj0IYNxHOU2WjNF0Xypa7NzJyt86XrR6FY2BjSQtCQ5-BkktLyloudPHExTgL7v56vPmsDbvvhM/s320/Carrie_Underwood_before_and_after_weight_loss.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Jesus: turned water into wine - 6 points<br />
Batman: turned a cave into a museum - 5 points<br />
<br />
Jesus: Told Satan where to shove it - 8 points<br />
Batman: used to call his partner "old chum" - 1 point<br />
<br />
Jesus: Took on many disciples to carry on his work - 7 points<br />
Batman: Took on many disciples to carry on his work - ....... 8 points<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPUvYM5Pfhhmi79y3m7QS1rA7BHFtry0QUzPOoq6cQV9eLdp2dVRjyFZfUR6wsLr89rG13DiH5wIMuVf-XfjQZF-uDmOMGA4ckENHBVJ80naGf1AWiYO5JKZ9iC-y-Zc1VprIhA-w_eM/s1600/63684.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPUvYM5Pfhhmi79y3m7QS1rA7BHFtry0QUzPOoq6cQV9eLdp2dVRjyFZfUR6wsLr89rG13DiH5wIMuVf-XfjQZF-uDmOMGA4ckENHBVJ80naGf1AWiYO5JKZ9iC-y-Zc1VprIhA-w_eM/s320/63684.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Jesus: saved a prostitute from being stoned - 4 points<br />
Batman saves a multitude of prostitutes nightly - 6 points<br />
<br />
Jesus: Takes a stab in the dark and accuses Judas of betrayal - 10 points (the odds he would be right was<br />
astronomical!)<br />
Batman: compiles clues, evidence, and educated hypotheses before making accusations - 9 points<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSTlIfxuwTcXvsqi5taYh98BnpNshnuaMdJien7Sb6YlvBvYWvZ9AIaXuZIoezzuKEzRTMqQorq06yTYiOP69-KzC1EKkzkWfXGuw1W9_xQlc5ELjBtccapYo5dWqarxkeX4yIlgIYp-Y/s1600/batman-jesus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSTlIfxuwTcXvsqi5taYh98BnpNshnuaMdJien7Sb6YlvBvYWvZ9AIaXuZIoezzuKEzRTMqQorq06yTYiOP69-KzC1EKkzkWfXGuw1W9_xQlc5ELjBtccapYo5dWqarxkeX4yIlgIYp-Y/s320/batman-jesus.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Jesus: Born from a virgin - 9 points<br />
Batman: born from the result of his parents being murdered - 7 points<br />
<br />
Jesus: possibly had a bitchin' beard - 6 points<br />
Batman: had no beard - 3 points<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvYoFOhLxw32PY6V3arK57UK7borDNl1levEryK-LF5DDxTZF8JpCh23u5N4M7yRHfn1IDOaQYumlE-8OPQF3e4rbFLIrJVjyFx3gexJ3Qyp_rd2Glylfu-mOxob-kH-t-FQcxiFdIEg/s1600/buddy_christ-3-300x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvYoFOhLxw32PY6V3arK57UK7borDNl1levEryK-LF5DDxTZF8JpCh23u5N4M7yRHfn1IDOaQYumlE-8OPQF3e4rbFLIrJVjyFx3gexJ3Qyp_rd2Glylfu-mOxob-kH-t-FQcxiFdIEg/s1600/buddy_christ-3-300x300.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Jesus: walked on water and saved Peter from drowning - 8 points<br />
Batman: did not walk on toxic chemicals to save the Joker - 2 points<br />
<br />
Jesus: was followed by thousands and thousands of people daily for free food and some quick healing -<br />
7 points<br />
Batman: is followed by no one... if they know what's good for 'em - 8 points<br />
<br />
Jesus: could make a blind man see - 7 points<br />
Batman: made this man go blind... See? - 6 points<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp_Xx-WWyqxB0n5rPmOUfDxota0HzWiXSBIoFxoaXCvDhlqJAN392W2xdk8q7fVmRBv_RKQxoo5EIWkETBRpgti6rFCUrqmwDsC527tXofN8Gc7AbXZnBQxsILMUU8epEg6MoxEWpOP2o/s1600/batman+punch+face.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp_Xx-WWyqxB0n5rPmOUfDxota0HzWiXSBIoFxoaXCvDhlqJAN392W2xdk8q7fVmRBv_RKQxoo5EIWkETBRpgti6rFCUrqmwDsC527tXofN8Gc7AbXZnBQxsILMUU8epEg6MoxEWpOP2o/s320/batman+punch+face.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Jesus: befriended sinners - 5 points<br />
Batman: beats up lawbreakers - 5 points<br />
<br />
Jesus: died and came back - 10 points<br />
Batman: Superman is his b*tch - 10 points<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6DTZexeupGa3Rx2oeEcmu-PFAYZwNUYEdV7pBCsvKQVn7G9KFO4MJV3P9u_S-Uom8PnMmDtHCORe-9SqBnyXAOJQmnO5zNRimyT91OSptd6aulgRvqvz3-A9I3z1RuoTVVtTWmZk0zMo/s1600/superman_vs_batman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6DTZexeupGa3Rx2oeEcmu-PFAYZwNUYEdV7pBCsvKQVn7G9KFO4MJV3P9u_S-Uom8PnMmDtHCORe-9SqBnyXAOJQmnO5zNRimyT91OSptd6aulgRvqvz3-A9I3z1RuoTVVtTWmZk0zMo/s320/superman_vs_batman.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Jesus: Was sickly and unsightly, then eventually was unrecognizable as a man; tortured by Roman soldiers and<br />
spat on by Jewish Pharisees. After all was said and done, he died a virgin. - 2 points<br />
Batman: Banged Catwoman, Talia al Ghul, Silver St. Cloud, Jezebel Jet, Vicky Vale, and thousands of other hard-bodied supermodels - 385,546,745 points.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Oooooooh, (inhales through teeth), sorry Jesus.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mEjI1OW1FzkE6cOkHHPkHsNwvfI4s0iAz7DoTdCqzdYzJonC1LQHLkQ-V-nD6XgB_Hpvq3jQcMO9t4WMuvXHhAKy36R_Oeit84tlwNjHksR19_m4I7Ku7vHXeFVMqQqLHCy1t07DEM0/s1600/batman-jesus-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mEjI1OW1FzkE6cOkHHPkHsNwvfI4s0iAz7DoTdCqzdYzJonC1LQHLkQ-V-nD6XgB_Hpvq3jQcMO9t4WMuvXHhAKy36R_Oeit84tlwNjHksR19_m4I7Ku7vHXeFVMqQqLHCy1t07DEM0/s320/batman-jesus-2.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><br />
<br />
One thing you have to know about the hero is that he always gets the girl.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-78018559440848721702011-05-01T20:14:00.000-07:002011-05-01T20:15:31.280-07:00Osama Bin Laden Dead<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Apparently the guy's dead. Here are my sources:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
*holds up middle finger*<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-86998415814416283602011-03-16T15:42:00.000-07:002011-03-16T15:43:14.842-07:00The Situation on The Trump Roast: Bombed like Hiroshima<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgczVf4PSUzaRK9dFuUkdx1cTPDyCn366erLOKzZWrGN_Y3jRAnQGfETEqhxgjrKBVlZm1t1lV_HkpCQXhSrTxDKhNbNfdjkY2vP55LnMHwRiMbrEHFE0t4gxD-BXsHXKIDJJqpaMZkg/s1600/0316-the-situation-ex-comedycentral.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgczVf4PSUzaRK9dFuUkdx1cTPDyCn366erLOKzZWrGN_Y3jRAnQGfETEqhxgjrKBVlZm1t1lV_HkpCQXhSrTxDKhNbNfdjkY2vP55LnMHwRiMbrEHFE0t4gxD-BXsHXKIDJJqpaMZkg/s320/0316-the-situation-ex-comedycentral.jpg" width="320" /></a>I haven't seen anyone try to tell jokes and fail as bad since Jesus told everybody he was just kidding. My wife and I watched the Roast of Donald Trump last night and let me tell you, most of it was pretty funny; but the embarrassment that this no-talent greaser "the Situation" faced was almost too horrible to watch. I thought everyone had some good jokes, including Seth McFarland and Anthony Jeselnik (which was my personal favorite for the night.), but then, out of the blue, I notice this guy cast as one of the roasters, who looks like an orange Julius come to life, make the most awful jokes I've ever heard. The Situation got nothing but silence and boos from the crowd; something I've never seen on a celebrity roast. Where's Greg Giraldo when you need him?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WXqA0y8zXnzWhGP0KH9FohQEbDP3EUf0cwv0u7noryytqOSKJ5hpOAhfAR82pHE2NC-S5x0_4NiZAks2gq-PIcFDpsVYkqubTuPZlhPpoV0CLaOuu7_wzO9X2fyhjyWB1T6TC9XX03w/s1600/the-situation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WXqA0y8zXnzWhGP0KH9FohQEbDP3EUf0cwv0u7noryytqOSKJ5hpOAhfAR82pHE2NC-S5x0_4NiZAks2gq-PIcFDpsVYkqubTuPZlhPpoV0CLaOuu7_wzO9X2fyhjyWB1T6TC9XX03w/s1600/the-situation.jpg" /></a>I absolutely have to know who hires the cast for these roasts, so I can skin him alive and roll him around in a pile of salt. Are you serious? I've never seen the Jersey Shore, but How popular could it have been with a bunch of oompa loompas dancing around lifting their shirts for the cameras? I've seen more laughs at Larry King's blood work results than I saw during his sliver of time. Is Hollywood really that short on people that can tell a decent joke?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
For the record, I'm only writing about this because I'm drunk. Otherwise, I wouldn't be giving Jersey Shore grease balls the attention.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-7794427863905366742011-01-19T12:06:00.000-08:002011-01-19T12:06:30.587-08:00Things I'm Doing Before I Die<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuTDqKQr2GVNL4wtXtcyrKJeu7RwtASkMV1KHG9-lpv5tvQYE-GeSF9ySazHAiQOHIpVq5Lu_Qdsvx-_uT4dIb0_MlZYiViw4jieBvoufiy95FJpWkN0qYE7liNhJZfPAUt40EnpwziPc/s1600/camel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuTDqKQr2GVNL4wtXtcyrKJeu7RwtASkMV1KHG9-lpv5tvQYE-GeSF9ySazHAiQOHIpVq5Lu_Qdsvx-_uT4dIb0_MlZYiViw4jieBvoufiy95FJpWkN0qYE7liNhJZfPAUt40EnpwziPc/s200/camel.jpg" width="195" /></a>I was originally going to title this "Things I <i>Want</i> to Do Before I Die", but I lack motivation with a title like that. Could I ever really get things done without the authoritative dialog one deserves when said one is eventually going to take a dirt nap? I have no idea what I just said..... but I believe it.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRivKc3Kslol5_m2SWTAc3cem9dygNoR5tI12i3hpq5ozmLdShte_5csOm6a2rVHoPf-ybO7Gl6QvJ3VSRIoeK2vHFkLd9KkisK7QNCrRvqqY5Kn-9XfIDeCah8bLvcxb_YrYIdShj8a0/s1600/Lady-Gag-Gag-Love-Doll-Makers-Get-Sued-500x680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRivKc3Kslol5_m2SWTAc3cem9dygNoR5tI12i3hpq5ozmLdShte_5csOm6a2rVHoPf-ybO7Gl6QvJ3VSRIoeK2vHFkLd9KkisK7QNCrRvqqY5Kn-9XfIDeCah8bLvcxb_YrYIdShj8a0/s320/Lady-Gag-Gag-Love-Doll-Makers-Get-Sued-500x680.jpg" width="233" /></a>There are plenty of things we little people with no money would like to do in general.... probably because we can't afford to do anything, so we want to do everything. Plenty of things come to mind, like getting a tattoo of Joe Camel right above my penis just to make people wonder if there was a marketing strategy involved, or something a little less romantic, like making a snuff film with a blow-up doll and just popping her when I'm done. I don't think there's a law against that... yet.<br />
<br />
More importantly there are things that I have compiled into a list that I choose to get done before my untimely demise, most likely caused by a faulty bear incident.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
1. First things first, I've always wanted to have sex in a bathtub full of jello. Would I want to eat the jello afterward? I'll make that decision when the time comes. The important thing is not to use red in case something uninvited seeps into the mix.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQufnxIC0k1EIdCLBti14XqILk2qig2OlaUtHOtUGCv0u_sUk9b6PcUrmF4v6MDNd_3xxhTwFXFpUVUyUkEy4UM_MAg963FSIlc187CNhoCRlda-_Loirb-1wNBeRPFbtD42AR8_S_fys/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQufnxIC0k1EIdCLBti14XqILk2qig2OlaUtHOtUGCv0u_sUk9b6PcUrmF4v6MDNd_3xxhTwFXFpUVUyUkEy4UM_MAg963FSIlc187CNhoCRlda-_Loirb-1wNBeRPFbtD42AR8_S_fys/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
2. I'm taking a huge dump in Okinawa. I don't think i need to explain why this is a super sweet idea.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0VDZOwxcQdjggrAHtlGiOmqU20K5uFeh4zLYVXDI_ax7blsxxU78h-B-imJtF7Uyc5zRbmP6Q-Ip3Ct6GP8L3GayDdrp9WyurBQhwIzR77qXdcZFbJjqg75HM69JtOZfzYo6c93oAjA/s1600/no-squatting-on-toilet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0VDZOwxcQdjggrAHtlGiOmqU20K5uFeh4zLYVXDI_ax7blsxxU78h-B-imJtF7Uyc5zRbmP6Q-Ip3Ct6GP8L3GayDdrp9WyurBQhwIzR77qXdcZFbJjqg75HM69JtOZfzYo6c93oAjA/s320/no-squatting-on-toilet.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
3. I want to start a religious rebellion by manipulating an Amish man with no penis, a Russian passivist who speaks only Klingon, a Chinese woman who wears a yamaka, and an animal rights activist who is also a barbarian from ancient Sumeria. This one is just a tad specific, which now that I think about it involves time travel. Not impossible, but could possibly involve sending a letter to Keanu Reeves two years from now.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUW7othqFn-lvt01p2T0u_7Y0NCP5pP8WwSmfhjoX5f7CFS2IcFXbvHk0OTqbKtpOnjv90U4wFNhVJ80ZZVUWC5HYb20fH1FonwMzxOg6-GRtDxvHZCCVOqszMy8js10zJVhVD1YO4eUw/s1600/conan-thebarbarian_48879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUW7othqFn-lvt01p2T0u_7Y0NCP5pP8WwSmfhjoX5f7CFS2IcFXbvHk0OTqbKtpOnjv90U4wFNhVJ80ZZVUWC5HYb20fH1FonwMzxOg6-GRtDxvHZCCVOqszMy8js10zJVhVD1YO4eUw/s320/conan-thebarbarian_48879.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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4. I want to fist fight someone on the moon. Just two grown men.... maybe one grown man and a kangaroo, duking it out in the cold, vacuous outer regions of the beyond......on the moon. Whoever wins will have to swim back and try not to freeze or explode.<br />
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5. I want Anne Coulter to stop talking. I'm doing whatever is necessary to accomplish this enormous feat.<br />
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6. I'm going to mercilessly beat the first superhero wannabe that pops up. Why wouldn't I?<br />
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7.Bill Gates will be drugged and influenced through Jedi mind control and tequila to pay an ungodly amount of money to Stephen Spielberg to direct the epic demise of Megan Fox through the most disgusting snuff film ever made.<br />
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8. I will create a time paradox with my junk.... we can only hope.<br />
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9. I will mercilessly beat Anne Coulter with Megan Fox's head. Why wouldn't I?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEUQmGT2W07RBT6anulGX6QgOZ_UEGvRjVbeRJwAl3P1e9CnN2Ekb5KFfWNe_Ee9WwassNuVxXXpsZJxQI2Vt9aCLmFxCe2xMG1MkKl6uHnt3k_ncSn9e7Fk8ZY-RYTqS1-zmLQfqFVo/s1600/images-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEUQmGT2W07RBT6anulGX6QgOZ_UEGvRjVbeRJwAl3P1e9CnN2Ekb5KFfWNe_Ee9WwassNuVxXXpsZJxQI2Vt9aCLmFxCe2xMG1MkKl6uHnt3k_ncSn9e7Fk8ZY-RYTqS1-zmLQfqFVo/s1600/images-2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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10. Last, but certainly not last, I will wear Selena Gomez as a hat. I would eat that girls clothes just to prove a point........ I guess the point....... is that I can digest clothes.<br />
I'll think of something, but this will get done.<br />
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11. ...and finally, I'm going to eat human flesh. This is all happening most likely during/after the zombie apocalypse, so the majority consensus says it'll be acceptable. I wonder who it'll be.... Maybe I'll eat David Caruso. That'll be the best part he'll ever play....... with a side of green beans.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJ4zttJWMIJ7Lia-9_x5n6AXO_m-e6A-0exPSUxMt0mqNjRTzHybqFupScWcV7754aGZOE_LNfeHiFwEW5tmk9FsS6oSWpubw9DdBHhhnku51sYUd3sKE7dBkv70u2eBC4Ekr4SK56Vg/s1600/david+caruso.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJ4zttJWMIJ7Lia-9_x5n6AXO_m-e6A-0exPSUxMt0mqNjRTzHybqFupScWcV7754aGZOE_LNfeHiFwEW5tmk9FsS6oSWpubw9DdBHhhnku51sYUd3sKE7dBkv70u2eBC4Ekr4SK56Vg/s1600/david+caruso.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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I realize at least one or two of these things are ridiculous and impractical. I mean, my junk should theoretically only be able to tare a rift in the space time at best, but I like to set my goals a little higher than just mediocre things like undoing the very fabric of reality through viciously humping the sky in the right point of existence. Sometimes you have to believe that you're better than that.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-66173561904156673972011-01-05T12:59:00.000-08:002011-01-05T13:04:40.159-08:00Happy New Zombie Apocalypse!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJChlYlJnxtIeZYEWVu4URFmGlr2g2PSkZQ2fGvkBPrm6HuHH65SehXPxGmaY7W-kl6cEyJdxcOUpCJweaBcW2aGVZDBCLsbqmk2nVGW17_aRwG7bGnuoWY2LafzLOHx5UuT2sbK8e7w/s1600/resolutions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJChlYlJnxtIeZYEWVu4URFmGlr2g2PSkZQ2fGvkBPrm6HuHH65SehXPxGmaY7W-kl6cEyJdxcOUpCJweaBcW2aGVZDBCLsbqmk2nVGW17_aRwG7bGnuoWY2LafzLOHx5UuT2sbK8e7w/s320/resolutions.jpg" width="320" /></a>New Year resolutions are all the same; stop doing this, try not to do this, don't forget to do this from now on. Do you ever see variety in this country anymore? How about some world changing ideas, like blame every fart on old people from now on. Who knows, it might inspire euthanasia. What about saying "f#%k off" to the next 100 people you see, no matter who they are? Well, in light of the way I do things, I decided to make my New Year resolution something so many of you have been looking forward to, but probably looks better on paper than the actual application. I'm going to start the zombie apocalypse and I'm going to be the last person left. First of all, I'm not going to tell you how it's going to start, but I AM going to tell you how things are going to pan out eventually. I thought this thing through just a little and schemed a few ideas out on a list so I'll have less thinking to do and more time to run when the entrails hit the fan.<br />
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<div style="color: blue;"><b>1. Starting my first restaurant</b></div><div style="color: blue;"><br />
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There will be a time when there are no more civilized people left in this world except the walking dead... and possibly Pauly Shore, because let's face it, no one would eat him. The poor little zombies will go hungry sooner or later and your selfish ass couldn't plump yourself up enough to provide them with a good hearty meal. Now not only am I having to take things in a different direction, I'll have to do it for free because zombies don't have money. Fortunately, I'll be able to use any building I want, which will probably be my ex in-laws' house just for kicks. I'm calling my new restaurant <i><b>"Cats and Dogs Are Okay Now"</b></i>. I think it's obvious what we'll be serving, but I had no idea Pauly already ate cats and dogs, so kudos for that.<br />
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<div style="color: blue;"><b>2. Finding a place to live</b></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQivk69RKTW8az1R37SSR_ndBbd-RWn4vlEMlArjbrciul1EEaXHscKVBRHRy8Ttvc2_mZQrcn8A5RZrfObHXpP5wODlZUBRewf8BcWSytGA9OYGoGaEp1zewjNJxGnDlF9jfbYqduLdY/s1600/e51e4_360912552_TPJSg-M.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQivk69RKTW8az1R37SSR_ndBbd-RWn4vlEMlArjbrciul1EEaXHscKVBRHRy8Ttvc2_mZQrcn8A5RZrfObHXpP5wODlZUBRewf8BcWSytGA9OYGoGaEp1zewjNJxGnDlF9jfbYqduLdY/s320/e51e4_360912552_TPJSg-M.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
This will be easy because I can live anywhere as long as there aren't too many bodies to drag out. Of course I've really already figured this out. I'm going to stay in Heff's Playboy mansion. He'll be in cryostasis so he won't mind. Besides, he's got a machine in the basement that manufactures brand new playboy bunnies with big boobies. Oddly enough they're already pre-programed to hate Pauly Shore.<br />
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<div style="color: blue;"><b>3. How am I going to get laid?</b></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH508b9HKFEG1q9BMxqvj1BLVgaSlhhfc9NAwCE317xWyvypw7nLfHJexPHLowlBTuAQXIelrvlaK-5OWFE8l6di6CVwKLtfGwMhk9hfuUM0GdLd3F5Tmn6fBIagIFzOxCjnxfd6Et9TA/s1600/zombie+sex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH508b9HKFEG1q9BMxqvj1BLVgaSlhhfc9NAwCE317xWyvypw7nLfHJexPHLowlBTuAQXIelrvlaK-5OWFE8l6di6CVwKLtfGwMhk9hfuUM0GdLd3F5Tmn6fBIagIFzOxCjnxfd6Et9TA/s320/zombie+sex.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Just a little more difficult than finding a place to live, but contrary to popular belief, I will not be opening a whorehouse called <b><i>"Cats and Dogs Are Okay Now"</i></b>. I'm going to either be gay for Pauly, or choose to do the horizontal Zombo with my dead little bags of flesh... I think I'll go with the zombies. So how do we go about this? Getting close will probably get me eaten or worse, castrated. I have to find some way to either tie them down or hack of the lower torso and just have my way with it while I diddle the inner waist area. On the bright side, the law of rape will be rendered obsolete.<br />
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<b style="color: blue;">4. Becoming the ultimate gamer</b><br />
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With no competition in the gaming world, I'll be king of the world, if only for a little while. Since zombies either chew in the controllers or try to eat the people in the games, I'll eventually run out of entertainment equipment, including Playboy bunnies ( I'll probably wear those out with minimal help from the zombies). The good news is I win every race at Mario Kart... finally.<br />
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</b></div><div style="color: blue;"><b>5. The worlds largest drug dealer</b></div><div style="color: blue;"><br />
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Again, I won't be getting paid, but since I can just jack everything ever made, money won't be such a huge deal. It's always good getting high with your dead friends, especially the ones that don't keep talking about weezing the juice. Do you have any idea how funny it is listening to zombie moans while you blow smoke in their faces? Not all drugs work on the zombies though. Cocaine is a little useless because they don't breathe. No heroin because of the coagulated blood; but Pot-people brownies are hilariously good. I really wish I cooked them now because I just ate half the batch.<br />
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There are so many more things I plan to do when everybody is dead except me. Hell I might even try having sex with animals... What? Screw you, you're dead and there's no one around to judge me, I'll do what I want. Now that I think about it for a minute, I'm seriously considering it. Maybe I'll lead some zombies over to a bear or something. I'll be the first person in the world besides Chuck Norris to f&#k a bear. Of course it'll be dead, so I'll have to change the Guiness book rules a little; but that'll be no sweat compared to how long it'll take to abolish the FCC. They apparently have lasers mounted to their headquarters.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-48451342891846034772010-10-12T19:17:00.000-07:002010-10-13T06:42:28.949-07:00Beau's List of Rules for Promiscuous Relations<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsMxYhdNSy2GU_GKYGxWaxRl9krXLeABtICtYjniQy3ouqkRrT8o17sKOcVtT-rV6Lymr6-znoxU0T0Of33yY0cP00o5GpTOKWwHJG2wT0pXKT5daTv6jALBgxUWcOT5X-7gYFXQfe4_M/s1600/super_hot_teacher9524.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsMxYhdNSy2GU_GKYGxWaxRl9krXLeABtICtYjniQy3ouqkRrT8o17sKOcVtT-rV6Lymr6-znoxU0T0Of33yY0cP00o5GpTOKWwHJG2wT0pXKT5daTv6jALBgxUWcOT5X-7gYFXQfe4_M/s320/super_hot_teacher9524.jpg" width="231" /></a>Originally, I had plans to write about how desperate for attention and self esteem you'd have to be to consider yourself a "juggalo", but more important matters are at hand this time around. Today's lesson in life and love is something those of you who know me personally would expect me of all people to compose, simply because I have time enough on my hands to do so. Besides, how will the eager and thriving young minds of today get through their schoolwork and thesis papers without proper education in things like casual encounters, sexually transmitted diseases, and the dreaded "I don't want to ruin our friendship". So, in the spirit of progress, let's get this underway, shall we?<br />
I call this <u><b>Beau's List of Rules for Promiscuous Relations</b></u>:<br />
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<b>Rule #1: Always the bridesmaids, never the bride.......unless she's gonna do it.</b><br />
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This basically means that<b> </b>everyone is fair play. Their business is not your own, so keep your pointy little nose out of it. Nothing sucks more than a "playa" with a conscience.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4liv6R7kn7F3n6YVdA01Wq1B2NAy8V7vpCOzatW5IYoXLz7qzuSPWmYT2zXNrEY7PH2VQdWqRm6u0Wr9oGP9490nP5Wrj_tchkdic5gWU7psNcsKZEoLJhJFffEG2sO5trCLdpOCA68/s1600/iStock_bridesmaid-dresses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4liv6R7kn7F3n6YVdA01Wq1B2NAy8V7vpCOzatW5IYoXLz7qzuSPWmYT2zXNrEY7PH2VQdWqRm6u0Wr9oGP9490nP5Wrj_tchkdic5gWU7psNcsKZEoLJhJFffEG2sO5trCLdpOCA68/s320/iStock_bridesmaid-dresses.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<b>Rule #2: Utilize the buddy system.</b><br />
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Don't you hate it when you're running the triathlon and you get a cramp in your leg when no one's around?<b> </b> When having promiscuous sex, you should always bring a helper along to assist you in case the unexpected occurs. Also make extra sure that your helper is aware of their obligations prior to arriving at your destination. It's better to get it all out there beforehand rather than having to <i>use</i> your hand.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-7DBaFtqUj7O0960ohPerybgZVcTOYUOHeVI7LgU4d2qvX_dhXPDC-TbHK0_BDF6G7Oq0nMADlrkDtDW0W0LqPcq2cIw472VkBX3cHwetkirU_yQIAnCqz4OowI0xqEolA3VwlKlTrOs/s1600/threesome_2449a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-7DBaFtqUj7O0960ohPerybgZVcTOYUOHeVI7LgU4d2qvX_dhXPDC-TbHK0_BDF6G7Oq0nMADlrkDtDW0W0LqPcq2cIw472VkBX3cHwetkirU_yQIAnCqz4OowI0xqEolA3VwlKlTrOs/s320/threesome_2449a.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><br />
<b>Rule # 3: Be a jack of all trades.</b><br />
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Keep in mind, not every fish goes for the same bait, so you'll need to bone up (no pun intended) on using every resource at your disposal. Whether it be Ruffies, alcohol, extacy, rope, choke hold, blackmail, or just plain ol' lying through your teeth, bring the right tools for the right situation.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYvPnjz84NDhA4GGjmViwYqJD8faKDNyk8l5FvV7AE1b5CQR9T42E-NiyKGXxSm3hv3wsbxgPbodyrvl_k7MdRzuI-dk4HHF538F_cX0pd6bM9yElkjWbVNeoH4BR8hbW1ia47ygRhD0/s1600/DateRape.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYvPnjz84NDhA4GGjmViwYqJD8faKDNyk8l5FvV7AE1b5CQR9T42E-NiyKGXxSm3hv3wsbxgPbodyrvl_k7MdRzuI-dk4HHF538F_cX0pd6bM9yElkjWbVNeoH4BR8hbW1ia47ygRhD0/s320/DateRape.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<b>Rule #4: Extreme sex calls for extreme measures.</b><br />
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Using protection? Then stop already; condoms are for pussies! A strong, independent individual like you needs to live on the edge. Birth control? hardly. Abstinence? not in <i>this</i> life, bubba. Don't be afraid of diseases and pregnancy, you're invincible! In the event you follow this rule, check your GPS for the nearest clinic.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8UzQQGoJXMWISMhCeR65Rf8ue4O_PZSfKOLEqZKAVwcriRdJO0zyWePNhiNwyj-tXuZ4chz6hYJjqoRe9yKT3-B4fh4Z1jU2Aic__S0wznbr8tJGoODdVRc-euIomUee1HfVz4HrSHI/s1600/melbourneskydiving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8UzQQGoJXMWISMhCeR65Rf8ue4O_PZSfKOLEqZKAVwcriRdJO0zyWePNhiNwyj-tXuZ4chz6hYJjqoRe9yKT3-B4fh4Z1jU2Aic__S0wznbr8tJGoODdVRc-euIomUee1HfVz4HrSHI/s320/melbourneskydiving.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<b>Rule #5: Explore all the possibilities.</b><br />
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The world is your playground; why not your partner(s) too? Whatever the case may be, put it everywhere! Mouth, genitals, anus, the doorknob hole in the hallway, the grill out back, maybe even if you own a pet.......they could watch too! Life is short; be the Lewis and Clark of sex.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicmOpgYkG7y9ueHK-a7Cz5uemZCq6zVdFId_nvQbt44QwR7QXNDXeN2qkomrvtGHGBkCgLQNIXbarftrgXPeAm8U6GLxTt_9YEK7DIcdy3lvXOYBlOQoAn3jcqy1VI0bDesksChbqhnLo/s1600/penisstuck-022509.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicmOpgYkG7y9ueHK-a7Cz5uemZCq6zVdFId_nvQbt44QwR7QXNDXeN2qkomrvtGHGBkCgLQNIXbarftrgXPeAm8U6GLxTt_9YEK7DIcdy3lvXOYBlOQoAn3jcqy1VI0bDesksChbqhnLo/s320/penisstuck-022509.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
<b>Rule #6: Leave your friends in the dust.</b><br />
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Ever been told, "can't we just be friends?", I don't want to ruin our friendship", or "you're like a brother/sister to me"? This is what happens when you exercise a non-sexual relationship with someone else for too long. If you want to bump uglies with them, tell them during your initial meeting. Say something like, " I may want to sleep with you in the near future. We're not friends yet and there's nothing to ruin. If you see me like a brother/sister at this juncture, you're a nut ball and should be locked in a room with pillows for walls. Now that we have that out of the way, Hi, my name is ______."<br />
No one ever loses friends with sex. They're just too stupid to think you're well aware of the fact that they <i>are</i> into sex, just not with you.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdd4JIeW4PaAvDdT6kLvcnOwvE0xrmLQ_mrsMKfDS_aeb_uRVQMvtqdOGTx06r41l4Ie8HYO5aGVdyy_Hm8_Fp8C2VS0JsLf_bE10c_ajlpEhYwIku-XDCdzrDmvwfShNwFz8TkdcetNg/s1600/FZG-intro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdd4JIeW4PaAvDdT6kLvcnOwvE0xrmLQ_mrsMKfDS_aeb_uRVQMvtqdOGTx06r41l4Ie8HYO5aGVdyy_Hm8_Fp8C2VS0JsLf_bE10c_ajlpEhYwIku-XDCdzrDmvwfShNwFz8TkdcetNg/s320/FZG-intro.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<b>Rule#7: Test the waters for your fallback guy/girl.</b><br />
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Don't want to sleep with everyone? That's fine, everyone has their own tastes. That doesn't mean you shouldn't flirt around to figure out your options. Remember, not everyone wants to sleep with you either, but it's good to have a back-up plan in case your significant other catches you cheating again, so keep your toes in the water.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoemu6bYT-7PDkYsn9CnUkuuZSZVIhTDEjX99zh1fsEH0ALKOcAO0RecLY41yl1Rh6hihrmvBgKIknZFgTdgz6jFE42_tqZltnOlD-i28KL92n75ka1ezRoeF23BYgyZpirrMjcc2LOTw/s1600/husband-caught-cheating.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoemu6bYT-7PDkYsn9CnUkuuZSZVIhTDEjX99zh1fsEH0ALKOcAO0RecLY41yl1Rh6hihrmvBgKIknZFgTdgz6jFE42_tqZltnOlD-i28KL92n75ka1ezRoeF23BYgyZpirrMjcc2LOTw/s320/husband-caught-cheating.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<b>Rule #8: Get to know your partner(s).</b><br />
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The dumbest thing one can do is call someone by another person's name when they're getting laid. Memorize, write down, repeat until you're blue in the face, do what you have to do to remember who's guts you're smashing. If all else fails, figure out words that rhyme with everyone's name, so you can just play it off like you were going to start talking about something else. Which reminds me: Steer clear of women named Helga.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtK9f9hRLzxgZohK2V8fWKY6cY0fKfeJ2fI-qW7H5kSHUsFuEgxC78YwRUiplqfTbgrTY8OQVi8HnEaNkQtEzke-xiHzyiCaaK0TPykK0_5m-EFGNek9veD2ua5UbTHmneAPZBOXzjsf8/s1600/Copyrighted_Image_Reuse_Prohibited_439384.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtK9f9hRLzxgZohK2V8fWKY6cY0fKfeJ2fI-qW7H5kSHUsFuEgxC78YwRUiplqfTbgrTY8OQVi8HnEaNkQtEzke-xiHzyiCaaK0TPykK0_5m-EFGNek9veD2ua5UbTHmneAPZBOXzjsf8/s320/Copyrighted_Image_Reuse_Prohibited_439384.jpg" width="196" /></a></div><br />
<b>Rule #9: Kick your standards like a bad habit.</b><br />
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Ugly girls, pregnant, single moms, sociopaths, nurses, and even fat women with fibromyalgia and service monkeys need love too. Whether or not <i>you</i> do doesn't matter; either way you're still getting play. If you set your standards too high, you may just run out of options. Keep your playbook open and a paper bag handy.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpvgapKjmki-dvHErdVp76_Jdj6YKbhBivgVTxosqQkVkn2wTMHBhZS42h34jW2HvskEH79cEinC7QeBbKADepRoFKFjDwxBI4hjAtKMpoCCchNXP5VugnTQsNHHC7urpRIMIa34j9yM/s1600/phpvCFmLVPM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkpvgapKjmki-dvHErdVp76_Jdj6YKbhBivgVTxosqQkVkn2wTMHBhZS42h34jW2HvskEH79cEinC7QeBbKADepRoFKFjDwxBI4hjAtKMpoCCchNXP5VugnTQsNHHC7urpRIMIa34j9yM/s320/phpvCFmLVPM.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<b>Rule #10: When in doubt, deny, deny, deny.</b><br />
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This one is a classic and should never leave any list of rules for any kind of relations. Whether you're lying, cheating, stealing, impregnating, passing diseases, or in some cases paying for it, deny everything. Even if your wife catches you d*ck deep in a hooker, it wasn't you. In more extreme cases, such as a video of you and an assortment of various barn yard animals or small woodland creatures, it still wasn't you. Be brave... it will all be over soon.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6hqoDAxnAe2FwvjnSYpp_x2CY2luWXJyDdVe4p5b-v5wJk94hprJJ9RX3TOV_8FWuiQtTMcMKmR6kOiEO9axSbjI-P6jd8Drj8y86JM8XjWGWgWACocjINiWjDf3RprEOaUmwvrRPAA/s1600/cinderella_after_midnight-1672.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6hqoDAxnAe2FwvjnSYpp_x2CY2luWXJyDdVe4p5b-v5wJk94hprJJ9RX3TOV_8FWuiQtTMcMKmR6kOiEO9axSbjI-P6jd8Drj8y86JM8XjWGWgWACocjINiWjDf3RprEOaUmwvrRPAA/s320/cinderella_after_midnight-1672.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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In the event you find this list on another website, they're plagiarizing and you should notify/come have sex with me immediately. I hope you enjoyed this informative article featuring true events and important day to day issues. Please do not follow these rules, you are an idiot if you do.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-2632463278468183882010-09-04T18:56:00.000-07:002010-09-04T21:33:41.404-07:00Die More Harder - Ver. 2 This post was one of my favorites. It was featured on a site called <a href="http://www.scrivel.com/content/blogcategory/39/68/">Scrivel.com</a> A while back, but I made a deal with the site moderator that I wouldn't post the same things on there that I did here. Since the a$$hole edited my material just before I quit posting (and that's a no-no where I stand), I might as well let you read it from my home page. For the record, when someone wants to feature your writing on their site and they tell you they <u>WILL NOT</u> edit your work, they will re-neg on that promise 100% of the time. Oh, and to be a bigger a$$hole, I edited it myself for this post.<br />
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originally posted: October 2008<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_lU1i21zD_vq43rSaak-Q9ozYwjI1pcUxDDGy0DGuBS34R9vwcmrIERfKWLolMjRzcOReS4gxXOt8yw9aCrPDwoKq58TFmIFNaCO5b6JMVLsIcEDvX1gbMl_X8hjH-F3k-cLBKKEqA04/s1600/diehard-150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_lU1i21zD_vq43rSaak-Q9ozYwjI1pcUxDDGy0DGuBS34R9vwcmrIERfKWLolMjRzcOReS4gxXOt8yw9aCrPDwoKq58TFmIFNaCO5b6JMVLsIcEDvX1gbMl_X8hjH-F3k-cLBKKEqA04/s320/diehard-150.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">yes, I was at Wal-Mart and took this picture myself. The Die Hard DVD case was a copy of the Die Hard 2 DVD case, just reversed.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table><br />
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With the latest Die Hard movie, whatever the name was, you'd think that Mr. Willis would be gettin' tired of being bloody for 2 hours at a time. That would almost be enough to drive you crazy. Crazy like a Burger King employee performing on a mall Santa in the alley behind McDonald's. Now <i>That's</i> having it your way.<br />
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John McLain apparently went nuts somewhere between Die Hard parts 1 and 2, but it's part 17 I'm looking forward to. We're calling it: <b>"Die More Harder: Dying is Almost Impossible When You're Alive"</b> (it's a work in progress title).<br />
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It's the year 2134. <br />
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<img alt="Image" border="0" class="mosimage" height="320" hspace="6" src="http://www.scrivel.com/images/stories/unclebeau/diehard-chuck.jpg" style="float: left;" title="Image" width="247" />Detective McLain is still alive somehow and more harder than ever! The internet (which is now known as Obama Land) has been taken over by Chuck Norris Jokes and his string of reality shows featured on <b>VH1</b> entitled, "<b>Roundhouse Kick of Love</b>", seasons one through whenever the f$%# Chuck Norris says ... <br />
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McLain now has a reason to stop the future by traveling back in time via a magical Demi Moore blow-up doll (what are the odds, right?), gather everybody that copies-and-pastes those stupid Chuck Norris jokes to their Myspace page on an everyday basis, kick them in their teeth and urinate fire on them while they're down (that last part might be unnecessary, but what can you do, it's in the script. Besides, are <b>you</b> gonna stop Chuck Norris?). <br />
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After the internet wars of 2136, Johnny boy discovers that he's actually an action hero in a movie because a fat kid from Baby Steps tells him so. As long as the guy with the glass eye doesn't find the magic movie ticket, we still have half a plot for the next eighteen sequels.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.scrivel.com/images/stories/unclebeau/diehard-perry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Image" border="0" class="mosimage" height="316" hspace="6" src="http://www.scrivel.com/images/stories/unclebeau/diehard-perry.jpg" title="Image" width="320" /></a></div>McLain eventually learns about the 14 and 3/4 monkeys (from the directors of the Naked Gun Eleventeenth and 9/16's of an inch) and winds up in a black and white comic book adaptation where the Invisible Girl gets raped by a yellow troll and Frodo finally stops talking. After another couple of hours he tosses the ol' pigskin around with Homie the Clown and rescues a prepubescent Jennifer Love Hewitt look-alike. She hides a gun in her teddy bear along with a live camera feed, with Ashton in the background getting ready to tell Bruce Willis he's been Punked. All in all, he gets so confused that one day he just snaps and tries to kill Matthew Perry twice. <br />
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He's got a new book coming out.<br />
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He's calling it: <b>"How to Smoke a Cigarette and Pretend it's Not a Tampon"</b> (also a work in progress).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIswYqzzztNz7gUg1mjpUKZz_wpYkuMq7U3uM9cK1Il08qRGT7ockdYCbjbr_bd3VU-VA-F6E6dsFBj9ERsq0i-SSFcZNu0AK_ptYZlwtxHIGAGgRD0vG9w87ttN32HHIgHaNG7i7mBSY/s1600/1282293996_19fb7bbaa1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIswYqzzztNz7gUg1mjpUKZz_wpYkuMq7U3uM9cK1Il08qRGT7ockdYCbjbr_bd3VU-VA-F6E6dsFBj9ERsq0i-SSFcZNu0AK_ptYZlwtxHIGAGgRD0vG9w87ttN32HHIgHaNG7i7mBSY/s320/1282293996_19fb7bbaa1.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-20957066377734219492010-08-27T09:44:00.000-07:002010-08-27T09:44:18.423-07:00Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Make Sure your S*#t is Still Mine!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip376nsXhrypFdwoQwiT77qEPEwvwRrOt94ac6cvHFWoU6O3147XEe16cwH_Jrjk6TcfxMhFCY5QboM1-q0_1e6rkd1Oc9ZV8DzOMkVPMgBwQTAuhOqQolxfMx4AeVlYqazRVUOaTi-Kc/s1600/Property+Tax.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip376nsXhrypFdwoQwiT77qEPEwvwRrOt94ac6cvHFWoU6O3147XEe16cwH_Jrjk6TcfxMhFCY5QboM1-q0_1e6rkd1Oc9ZV8DzOMkVPMgBwQTAuhOqQolxfMx4AeVlYqazRVUOaTi-Kc/s320/Property+Tax.jpg" width="320" /></a>A question was raised on the radio the other day about the "American Dream". With the economy the way it is, they were curious to know, not only how many people could refrain from yelling "Boba Booey, Boba Booey, Howard Stern's penis!!", but whether or not owning a home is still considered a piece of the American dream. Apparently a lot of people that rent answered the call with their opinions about why it's better not to own a home with a long list of reasons. You don't have to mow the lawn, fix electrical or plumbing problems, or worry about whether or not you need to tell the neighbors you're cheating on your wife so at least someone will find out. There's no homeowner's association and there are no property taxes. Jehova's witnesses won't come to your door as much because they fear doors with a letter on it. All I had to do was turn the "t" upside down. Basically there were nothing but upsides to renting rather than buying. Stupid people will say, "but you're just throwing your money away.", which leads me to my point. Can you actually be a "home owner" or is that as much a contradictory statement as saying "Anne Coulter is insightful."?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOUpzx5FVVQ8lmUdbcQdkWUMS0z7mWkjh9Jq4WCvzgXSa6q4n33rRnZP2MaOYe0A15juL03fRTXF_CqF9NyBT5Mr-KONf8PwOJ14X9EaXFapxP4mUE6CtwVHpkUQ6mehyUDLQ93EYmRDY/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOUpzx5FVVQ8lmUdbcQdkWUMS0z7mWkjh9Jq4WCvzgXSa6q4n33rRnZP2MaOYe0A15juL03fRTXF_CqF9NyBT5Mr-KONf8PwOJ14X9EaXFapxP4mUE6CtwVHpkUQ6mehyUDLQ93EYmRDY/s200/images.jpg" width="200" /></a>No matter how much you pay on "real estate", it will never truly be yours. It's kind of like being in love with a stripper. There will always be property tax breathing down your neck. Now some people will say that property tax is good because it pays for local services like police, fire department, prostitution, and Wal-Mart greeters, but when you have to pay a tax on something that should be yours, it can be taken from you if you don't pay. Doing some research I found that not only did a guy rape an eight day old baby, but the word "real" in "real estate" actually came from the word "royal" Real estate translates to "the king's land". The difference between owning land and real estate is that real estate is contracted out. So what you're doing when you buy real estate is renting it out from the government, IRS, banks, Bill Gates, etc... You could get some old hick farmer to give you a piece of his land that he got when his ancestors walked out to it and said "mine!", build your own house out of materials you got from Tony that knows a guy down at Home Depot, and You will still have to pay tax on it to where if you don't, it will all be taken away from you. Just like an anorexic on a treadmill, you will lose everything.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPCERnn3QiGRlpQ7PrPB5SNYrUENtnuskIChtupR9l4dRkV8AeizggapABQ3gNA-LmmwlS5KNBKB12jx6FK0svtL3kesHW2sltQ14DgvQJgIem8NKFhb30EsVlJZsvuRkrmQex0f202M/s1600/property-taxes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPCERnn3QiGRlpQ7PrPB5SNYrUENtnuskIChtupR9l4dRkV8AeizggapABQ3gNA-LmmwlS5KNBKB12jx6FK0svtL3kesHW2sltQ14DgvQJgIem8NKFhb30EsVlJZsvuRkrmQex0f202M/s400/property-taxes.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHbEd4cDYC0U8qEyKq46miPsAsB8XUbU3Xp7Y8WJaWYLRT7oQwgLTj8Uv8ivgNHzWeThUTrJNKpMzV_DdEngdIGV6Ga6aTIkd1qycwKLoCCwbxVNWgY3_Ye1vGm-jcLMndLrBP90vER1A/s1600/Fatal-Frame-2-B0000AI1KK-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHbEd4cDYC0U8qEyKq46miPsAsB8XUbU3Xp7Y8WJaWYLRT7oQwgLTj8Uv8ivgNHzWeThUTrJNKpMzV_DdEngdIGV6Ga6aTIkd1qycwKLoCCwbxVNWgY3_Ye1vGm-jcLMndLrBP90vER1A/s320/Fatal-Frame-2-B0000AI1KK-L.jpg" /></a>I did find out there are ways to own your house outright, but it has to do with Alloidial titles and land patents. Without these things, nothing about your land is yours. They will charge you this tax all your life and when you decide one day that your balls finally dropped and you say, "You know what, this here is mine, I'm not paying you for what I already paid someone else for", they seize your property to make up for the loss in revenue you failed to fork out. So uh... how're you enjoying our government so far? I swear it's like an ex wife you can't get away from. You give them the good china, they want your copy of Fatal Frame II and I swear to God I'll never get that back, you f%$*ing whore!<br />
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So keep in mind what you really want in life, the ability to pick up and go whenever you want, or be stuck with something that's not even yours for 30 years or your credit gets turned to poo. I remain impartial. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_wUqqQaihNckw8t2jibBi8ANKqUf9I_xlJtGWyJV15ri-8__13jFY-gOVmWJUlsX3m1y5KRwRerXVtYJ23oczKx7qWbI_XFwZW8Lsnrl0hMsUcwKmAKIaIDJiIwmt1Mto0OsHoZUdkfc/s1600/reginald-davis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_wUqqQaihNckw8t2jibBi8ANKqUf9I_xlJtGWyJV15ri-8__13jFY-gOVmWJUlsX3m1y5KRwRerXVtYJ23oczKx7qWbI_XFwZW8Lsnrl0hMsUcwKmAKIaIDJiIwmt1Mto0OsHoZUdkfc/s320/reginald-davis.jpg" /></a></div><br />
In lighter news, apparently some guy raped an eight day old baby. What a sick world we live in.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-33240074363140644742010-08-23T22:07:00.000-07:002010-08-24T16:34:14.744-07:00Unemployment is Better than the Anus Pounder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogdG9KvRd6E95KC-LRt7rapVaO5o72TA0KCAs1EbZRwjsgvT4NsfrvlJ5cFxw-nNqWrsbUAZs8JJ2ySW3Mq5ZsxQLrIvLWBc07s69NYNy_J8vOJK4kFDF_qKyzFQiIlDkYau2FRTUO4s/s1600/hendrix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogdG9KvRd6E95KC-LRt7rapVaO5o72TA0KCAs1EbZRwjsgvT4NsfrvlJ5cFxw-nNqWrsbUAZs8JJ2ySW3Mq5ZsxQLrIvLWBc07s69NYNy_J8vOJK4kFDF_qKyzFQiIlDkYau2FRTUO4s/s320/hendrix.jpg" /></a></div>In all of this madness concerning the economy, lay-offs aren't really a concern to people in certain fields. The medical field for one example is still thriving and probably producing more revenue than ever. Other good examples would be the porn industry, idiots with bad acting skills, giant tits, and alcoholism looking for 15 minutes of fame in their own reality show, strippers (which sometimes classify as the previous example), chain restaurants, and casinos. I had the raw end of the deal because instead of becoming a midget juggler at the circus like I went to college for, I had to pick land surveying, which is almost a dead industry now, unless you're in the private sector. Getting screwed out of even the simplest of jobs affects my private sector enough as it is. When you apply for a job nowadays, since they're so scarce, most places that pay a decent amount require experience right out of the gate. Since I've been doing the same thing for 10 years, it's about as hard as a Jew with a coupon to have already had experience in anything else. Now don't get me wrong, I'm fully capable of learning just about any job that doesn't require a license from some pencil pushing suit, but those jobs are held over for kids with nothing to pay for but their cell phone bills and Nickleback tickets (which I will address with a vengeance in a minute). The worst part about experience requirements is that you have to have experience to get the job and you have to get the job to get experience, and the knee bone is connected to the hip bone. Since jobs are few and far between, companies are cherry picking and it screws the American people like Bob Vila on an oak cabinet. I understand that people are too lazy to train business world noobs, but it beats having idiots for employees that have 20 years experience and can't even spell their name right.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGCStV0p-IwCUCmkEM1oKrGRFRMY0hgCoP3RtDtSibELxotRxp_DTuBpIs_O-BZW9wnfY5khtISJFJa3geGfcPmqjNgmEtN-0jdIoPjNnysSQn0PRNuRcAUIL3pob_JPVkOAMP8gYWIMY/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGCStV0p-IwCUCmkEM1oKrGRFRMY0hgCoP3RtDtSibELxotRxp_DTuBpIs_O-BZW9wnfY5khtISJFJa3geGfcPmqjNgmEtN-0jdIoPjNnysSQn0PRNuRcAUIL3pob_JPVkOAMP8gYWIMY/s200/images.jpg" width="153" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh71t-OndtRAyTkvRnaGJetwdFWJTJXn8PNPl4eqZmxjOru9jQp4pOa4eSJ4SjXSwkwQiGyQuW_Sr_GLIPa5gkyzWUj3v6C-oVZNmARAG3LvNUQBlQNIy9U4OpXHJ936JBalG_SqGJBDf0/s1600/bob_vila_hardwood_flooring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh71t-OndtRAyTkvRnaGJetwdFWJTJXn8PNPl4eqZmxjOru9jQp4pOa4eSJ4SjXSwkwQiGyQuW_Sr_GLIPa5gkyzWUj3v6C-oVZNmARAG3LvNUQBlQNIy9U4OpXHJ936JBalG_SqGJBDf0/s200/bob_vila_hardwood_flooring.jpg" width="200" /></a>I've sent I don't know how many copies of my resume, but apparently, it's not appropriate to put, "<b>I punch babies good</b>" under "<u><b>things I do for money</b></u>", so I completely changed it to say, "<b>I punch babies <i>well</i></b>". Actually, if I squint my eyes just right, the part where I say that I've been abducted by aliens, therefore I am a spiritual person, almost looks like it says I rape bunny rabbits, but it's alright because I do. Just look at 'em, they're so f$#*ing cuddly!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiiS8pw6B1kRphHIiAfqFeKpDygVLM6p9n1QZl0pZs4gaAMwQ9mgYVREfbGxl8TqxK4TC6Sp0X5nWnv4hj0Y1URvclEFz1tCtdbzouleFZt-HpmXVqqiqIK8kTZy2GkNFEBgkbNfnTTg/s1600/grin631l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiiS8pw6B1kRphHIiAfqFeKpDygVLM6p9n1QZl0pZs4gaAMwQ9mgYVREfbGxl8TqxK4TC6Sp0X5nWnv4hj0Y1URvclEFz1tCtdbzouleFZt-HpmXVqqiqIK8kTZy2GkNFEBgkbNfnTTg/s320/grin631l.jpg" width="292" /></a></div>The reason I'm so upset though is that there are way, way too many teenagers that don't have families to support working jobs that people like me need. Part of the problem in this economy I think is that the working age for most places is anywhere between 15 and 16 years old (I think that's right around the time most teenage girls have their third child, a.k.a. "grandma's" third "roommate"). These kids are cheaper labor, don't need much insurance, and 80% of them now wear women's jeans for some reason. Therefore, I propose each state increase the working age to 18. That way, instead of our money going straight towards those little neon lights that go underneath some chode's Honda Civic, they can go towards things that matter to middle aged men like me, like lap dances and booze... oh, and diapers and food for my children. Of course, whatever kid that has a job at the time would be grandfathered in until he or she quits or is fired because my Mcdonald's order is <b>ALWAYS WRONG!!!</b> Seriously, how hard is it to make a burger with no cheese, extra lettuce, one pickle on the side, no bun, no ketchup, add mayonnaise, add bologna, extra cheese, add olives, no meat, no mustard, no cheese, sesame seeds picked off in the northeast quadrant, and cut into fun animal shapes; with raw french fries and a drink, hold the cup, and a taco without sour cream? For God's sake, learn how to do your job instead of pounding my anus! Seriously, I didn't order that!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZz1fuLYiOAp600sZWOJYeaJJIc2F7ZTopx5ZOe7DT8NjIn-Ierya8QjCI2TRJZbbO3MfcGkeqzBGo6Gzix_tzoxaqmKQq8YC4D0gr14-cHp19KZ2uUwlrPKvye83S4umWlqRB0lKcwto/s1600/lafayette+james+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZz1fuLYiOAp600sZWOJYeaJJIc2F7ZTopx5ZOe7DT8NjIn-Ierya8QjCI2TRJZbbO3MfcGkeqzBGo6Gzix_tzoxaqmKQq8YC4D0gr14-cHp19KZ2uUwlrPKvye83S4umWlqRB0lKcwto/s200/lafayette+james+1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Is it just me, or is the only good excuse for vampire media these days getting a little... gay? What is it with story telling on cable television that absolutely <i>has</i> to include physical "bromance" to the point you get that taste in your mouth like someone regurgitated warm carrots down your throat hole. Not boiled carrots either; those little frozen dinner carrot cubes that are never really fully cooked and they come mixed with those rubbery, cold bits-o'-goodness homeless people call corn. The matter at hand (warm carrot cube vomit or not) is the HBO phenomenon True Blood, which I personally enjoy and look forward to every Sunday night. I also look forward to expelling Saturday night's burritos for those of you keeping up with current events.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGBpig6lRLPU_HB2OU0M5fLvmyftxwekxQMWjZo5OZ2zss-HiCBuHgphbcdb-Zgj6RQ9Eeqeo-932KaLWAvHM2AzTw68MLyB3Elw1T23HJMo7WL9iPy7SwiT9-ZWwnM4fBUPlVrhjZwo/s1600/cowboys+gay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGBpig6lRLPU_HB2OU0M5fLvmyftxwekxQMWjZo5OZ2zss-HiCBuHgphbcdb-Zgj6RQ9Eeqeo-932KaLWAvHM2AzTw68MLyB3Elw1T23HJMo7WL9iPy7SwiT9-ZWwnM4fBUPlVrhjZwo/s320/cowboys+gay.jpg" /></a>True Blood, unlike the pale twink fairy movie franchise Twilight, actually has story and character development that self-respecting people should care about and devote some down time to... if ever they find the time to get out of junior high and stop shelling out money to a bad acting, sparkly fag like Robert Pattinson. For the record, concerning people who get offended at everything, by fag, I don't mean he's gay. Don't get me wrong, he's most definitely a fag, he just so happens to be gay too. Anyway, enough about the oober cupcake fairy fag Bob Pattinson. We're here today to discuss one of the bigger annoyances in life, like why the hell are they f*$%ing with True Blood's sexual preference? Do we really need every single vampire story in the media today to either be obviously gay (Twilight) or in this case, demonstratively gay?<br />
Let me tell you a little something about myself. I love lesbian porn just as much as the next guy, but we men have a double standard when it comes to inter-gender free-for-all. I'm sorry, I don't make the rules.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn31hsivjDnY0C3BF_UySJsBcuz93TbGPkBye-Ne_RS4pqmANs2Kg_sJ0YbqacevqPelGOE_irGsum7Cy6AGZCbKoL5qUGrVrJ6x4s72tj1TVSr7C4vlZShCNf8YgH3e96K7EE_ilwKDk/s1600/twilight-gay-edward-kissing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn31hsivjDnY0C3BF_UySJsBcuz93TbGPkBye-Ne_RS4pqmANs2Kg_sJ0YbqacevqPelGOE_irGsum7Cy6AGZCbKoL5qUGrVrJ6x4s72tj1TVSr7C4vlZShCNf8YgH3e96K7EE_ilwKDk/s640/twilight-gay-edward-kissing.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">courtesy of some guy with hairy arms</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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Last week on True Blood, Lafayette and Jesus (<--- I know, right?) have their second make-out scene while Eric and Russel's spicy little Saturday night burrito boy toy have <i>their</i> own little kissy, kissy. Not too long ago, there was an episode where Sam had a dream where he was about to get naked with Bill Compton in the shower right after another close call make-out scene... Not that it's not oh so detrimental to the story, but this show is supposed to be about vampires, werewolves, shape shifters, telepaths, ancient demigods, and evil christians (<--- not like that's anything new). Why on Earth are all the dudes sharing tongue attacks when they should be ripping each others' faces off?<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5DS09aVUgBAkHszifAjpjHREMdpBvKK0V9c07y6v3V4CylowsO8GelEm63kjbBp7X9KqqVLlVk-oVinneZUiEnyYksNpATre6wHxT5JtGXcS77p6H6sHDxvogV5M2Enb0ZEpVoRA4Ns/s1600/1-Linda-Hamilton_1416367i.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5DS09aVUgBAkHszifAjpjHREMdpBvKK0V9c07y6v3V4CylowsO8GelEm63kjbBp7X9KqqVLlVk-oVinneZUiEnyYksNpATre6wHxT5JtGXcS77p6H6sHDxvogV5M2Enb0ZEpVoRA4Ns/s320/1-Linda-Hamilton_1416367i.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>That's like somebody saying, "Hey guys, I've got this great idea for a movie. It's gonna be called "The Terminator" and it's about this soldier from a future where machines rule the world. He becomes the father of his best friend and protects Linda Hamilton from an Austrian in a leather jacket, but during all the shooting and explosions, we're gonna have some dudes makin' out and the android will say "I need your clothes, your boots, and some of that sweet ass."<br />
<br />
and the executives reply: <br />
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".......................Who the hell is Linda Hamilton?"<br />
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I'm sure that's how it would have went down so long as there was a generation of pasty, emo scene kids generating revenue wherever gay can be found.<br />
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Well, at least with True Blood there's no need to discuss what team you're on. Apparently they're all on the blue team.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIHusWDrVWO2e7koMej66X5CsOEK8akc8sg3SmPVNGssUwuA73Z2TdEJPnUMX1bMCncJIVAbQZ8YJjKPkSnDqU-uDJVHxv4R9zLQctavrg6LQQIm_t5WqNrzQcMXod2_-nJH_WMaJfEfk/s1600/haloheroic1_blue_photo_01_dl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIHusWDrVWO2e7koMej66X5CsOEK8akc8sg3SmPVNGssUwuA73Z2TdEJPnUMX1bMCncJIVAbQZ8YJjKPkSnDqU-uDJVHxv4R9zLQctavrg6LQQIm_t5WqNrzQcMXod2_-nJH_WMaJfEfk/s320/haloheroic1_blue_photo_01_dl.jpg" /></a></div><br />
No, not that one.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-25713457896937119772010-05-24T14:35:00.000-07:002010-05-24T14:35:36.472-07:00LOST Just Gave Me a Penguin<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuxSVEqzYBEVHcPGD1zRekD6AEI9GW4veiExaMGAZjqy9WhlfOuw3GIZwIxCNx3ykEMGhKldm7Q7r94IadYBd3rxYXY4u93MrFzXnHhW1XLqFmdMwClQr_6yUEIRgHEn-FGIOByPedbcs/s1600/LOSTJacksEye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuxSVEqzYBEVHcPGD1zRekD6AEI9GW4veiExaMGAZjqy9WhlfOuw3GIZwIxCNx3ykEMGhKldm7Q7r94IadYBd3rxYXY4u93MrFzXnHhW1XLqFmdMwClQr_6yUEIRgHEn-FGIOByPedbcs/s320/LOSTJacksEye.jpg" width="320" /></a>With the final season of LOST coming to a close with the book-ended eye flutters of Dr. Jack Shephard, somehow I feel like most of the general populace as I watched a plane fly over the island, made it through the first commercial, and said... "what?". For those of you who don't like spoilers, I promise I won't give anything away... anything at all.<br />
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(But let's be honest, it could have looked more like this:)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjvDUJMNXs1aSS3Do7Kbq5E9gzHxD2NyShjaC3AZYHfEQSZRagw_aSmrn1u02U5ryZFB8a6SJAHStpl9QJuCd9hsLPTfrC6aL-tkMeTzMAXLnLbW16eeesh8kLFnOfe464yz2O5aZdy2E/s1600/perez-with-a-black-eye-12911-1246213674-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjvDUJMNXs1aSS3Do7Kbq5E9gzHxD2NyShjaC3AZYHfEQSZRagw_aSmrn1u02U5ryZFB8a6SJAHStpl9QJuCd9hsLPTfrC6aL-tkMeTzMAXLnLbW16eeesh8kLFnOfe464yz2O5aZdy2E/s320/perez-with-a-black-eye-12911-1246213674-2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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Ok, so everybody dies and all dogs go to heaven, except for Michael because he's a jackass and his son is apparently eight feet tall. The ending was actually the end... and then another end after the ending, where Mr. Echo was no where to be found. I have no idea why the writers of LOST make it apparent that black people (except for Rose because she's a sweetie) don't get to go to church, but if you ask me, whenever I go to Golden Corral Sunday afternoon, that's obviously a lie. From about 7 in the evening, to 1:05 in the morning I hogged the television to watch a 2-hour review special, a 2 and a half hour finale, and a 1-hour Jimmy Kimmel LOST farewell show. Needless to say, I wasn't the only one scratching my head that night. They certainly did name the show appropriately. After I mulled over what happened, it made more sense to me what just happened, but only time will tell how long my brain will hold on to that. That, and I'm still pissed I never found out what happened to Shannon's inhaler.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFh_KezKRRH6NJVDP-VOQ5QEm1AlVYT819LVn7FfN3sy-tiay8OcktdcfqeCW_R-uZS6qklvu7LhLY5bffSqQatyB6siz02k14KgO34ggpJPlMD8ve9K9j7lup2jWr2G45AuZ-5ENCXg/s1600/76259_1224121376783_399_220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFh_KezKRRH6NJVDP-VOQ5QEm1AlVYT819LVn7FfN3sy-tiay8OcktdcfqeCW_R-uZS6qklvu7LhLY5bffSqQatyB6siz02k14KgO34ggpJPlMD8ve9K9j7lup2jWr2G45AuZ-5ENCXg/s320/76259_1224121376783_399_220.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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A lot of questions, however, were answered during the final episode(s) last night. With the phrase, "You made a great number 2", we find out that all this time, Ben was a giant turd that came out of Hurley, most likely early into the first season, which would give him time to grow. Benjamin Linus himself was beaten more times than Pee Wee Herman's junk in a theater. I'm fairly certain it was symbolic of how hard it was to pop a squat in the jungle. Women can't have babies, and the men can't drop the kids off at the pool.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ET60h808LOAr-Zd-CgZwvKlch_9aE6OObKuZcsXc5hWVkeMuhmkOi5qgSSoFJOm5i0EX4hJEobi32nJnAZN8SXVzF8v8Db2jpPIjGL8xjxDP8MYbld2E7eJqP_x_JWIEEcJTK2NM3DE/s1600/Ben-Hurley-and-Locke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ET60h808LOAr-Zd-CgZwvKlch_9aE6OObKuZcsXc5hWVkeMuhmkOi5qgSSoFJOm5i0EX4hJEobi32nJnAZN8SXVzF8v8Db2jpPIjGL8xjxDP8MYbld2E7eJqP_x_JWIEEcJTK2NM3DE/s320/Ben-Hurley-and-Locke.jpg" /></a></div><br />
The "flash sideways" (which is how it was explained earlier on) wasn't actually an alternate time line showing what would happen if the plane hadn't crashed, but a flash WAY forward after all involved characters in the series had kicked the bucket ( insert Mr. Cluck Cluck joke here) and were experiencing a play-through of their lives up until they remembered they died so they could move on to the "real" afterlife in which Drive Shaft opens for Spinal Tap. Everyone that did the nasty on the island or wanted to do the nasty on the island is reunited in their own little after life and those crazy kids with the diamonds are still in the ground waiting for Miles to come back and snatch 'em up. All I want to know is, what happens to Mr. kung fu from the temple? Last but not least, why the hell didn't someone tell me Black Gandhi wasn't gonna be in the show.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbwZiDct_zHCuapVawIu8hKNbT-0c3ax_6K-E2PECeQ8iV43Ida8WFSs5WLW3qysDzDmLY09j_JN3utBA_Ag07rBxSQXkaHe8jroiKO9RzMrjidaxWMobTblD-4dl4Xoo8wL0jiSzMo5g/s1600/948161249327558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbwZiDct_zHCuapVawIu8hKNbT-0c3ax_6K-E2PECeQ8iV43Ida8WFSs5WLW3qysDzDmLY09j_JN3utBA_Ag07rBxSQXkaHe8jroiKO9RzMrjidaxWMobTblD-4dl4Xoo8wL0jiSzMo5g/s320/948161249327558.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Dude, why don't you ever say Hi to me?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-85851873459121838112010-05-16T15:54:00.000-07:002010-05-16T15:56:28.166-07:00Tim Burton Defines "Recycled Crap"I realize I haven't been completely active within my responsibilities of filling the internet with true stories about fast food prostitutes and anecdotes involving mating rituals between white rabbits and Burt Reynolds' seamstress, but sometime between my last post and now, I received another baby girl to train in the arts of ruling the universe via hemorrhages. My wife walked in, laid down, pushed her out, smacked a nurse and chased a bottle of vodka with a bottle of tequila in a matter of 4 minutes, 18 seconds. Of course I'm being generous with the term "smacked". It all seemed to go as planned, except for the monkey that stormed in wearing a bikini, but we all got a good laugh from that... Then it threw the rabbit against the wall... Yeah, that wasn't so funny.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVZQ7DWNwqr-kSmmcMEzsnxp8mLtRGDTTy7L8fIy09w5dkVqYlAlLCcVa2D-cZvi_DGhu0EwPOlI0VdYKL_oUfsTbmmNfjjdlYYAd13pIzMxEE7Godz7tyDwWbd0ZUbYB1Uoja5BO4JE/s1600/Cooking.With.Pooh_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVZQ7DWNwqr-kSmmcMEzsnxp8mLtRGDTTy7L8fIy09w5dkVqYlAlLCcVa2D-cZvi_DGhu0EwPOlI0VdYKL_oUfsTbmmNfjjdlYYAd13pIzMxEE7Godz7tyDwWbd0ZUbYB1Uoja5BO4JE/s320/Cooking.With.Pooh_01.jpg" /></a></div>I've been looking at a lot of books lately. Why? Well, I'm in the middle of writing a book myself and I'm oh so amused by the way people perceive how it should be written. You see, this book is good because it follows a formula. It follows this formula because other good books follow the same formula. If it does not follow the formula, or one similar, it is not good because it is not like all of these other books. There's my dilemma. I don't want to write anything that's like any other story, but the kicker is, apparently it's not good literature because it's not a carbon copy of other good literature... kind of like how my poop isn't healthy because its red, unlike everyone else's poop. I guess you can't win the game unless you follow the rules (who were made by idiots). Isn't that what TV's like now? Everything is a remake of something else, it's the same recycled crap from ten years ago, or it's reality television which is bad enough. People hate it, but it keeps selling. It's not just the money either; There are lots and lots of yuppie college know-it-all hippies that think they know good writing because they read 10-20 stories from hundreds of years ago that all follow a single pattern and since theirs does as well, it must be good. This philosophy can be best described as the ol' "douche bag of tricks" (I think that was a before and after on Wheel of Fortune). Here's how a conversation between two douches might look like:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1jnL_507M0g8urJ0dgDcoU5DE9xqonZVC8p99VftpObwd3dQCnNmrZXaqxXi6WcJzn6oMtqbveMgUfemt3FrmckI2bK9grUQvgPb8evg9ZPyZSiAmlkIch042lSj-3KeYg1d3qu439Bw/s1600/fail-owned-wheel-fail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1jnL_507M0g8urJ0dgDcoU5DE9xqonZVC8p99VftpObwd3dQCnNmrZXaqxXi6WcJzn6oMtqbveMgUfemt3FrmckI2bK9grUQvgPb8evg9ZPyZSiAmlkIch042lSj-3KeYg1d3qu439Bw/s320/fail-owned-wheel-fail.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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"Hey, did you see Iron Man 2 yet?"<br />
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"No, it's nothing like the new Alice in Wonderland."<br />
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"Oh, I love Tim Burton"<br />
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"Oh, me too."<br />
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"Let's go suck each other off and talk about Tim Burton!"<br />
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"Great idea, my douchy gay hippie lover!"<br />
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Okay, maybe it doesn't have to involve Iron Man 2, but that part's pretty interchangeable. As long as you follow the same pattern, all douches basically sound like this.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-81016185633913642002010-02-07T19:50:00.000-08:002010-02-08T12:07:54.084-08:00The Super Bowl: America's Annual OJ Trial<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIYOEfFqVOFTgw5WQOPUF7CBsiq6TKDE2VkRBrrN1_0iBqd8QTT47KmOpekqfD3VotYfYYy-aWqfDDMPkrmKXGnqWvZtXm91WDVyTruq-GE9fa6gWRuNvIMAu4vkcg-vkuZy40PT0ySg/s1600-h/logo_2010-Super-Bowl.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIYOEfFqVOFTgw5WQOPUF7CBsiq6TKDE2VkRBrrN1_0iBqd8QTT47KmOpekqfD3VotYfYYy-aWqfDDMPkrmKXGnqWvZtXm91WDVyTruq-GE9fa6gWRuNvIMAu4vkcg-vkuZy40PT0ySg/s400/logo_2010-Super-Bowl.gif" width="400" /></a></div>Here it is, the game of the year; the most expensive airtime anyone can hope to purchase in the hopes that someone will buy some damn Doritos and Bud Light. I myself am not a football fan. I don't have the patience to sit for 6 hours and watch the same episode with different players over and over. The game never ends, really. One team has the ball, the other one doesn't. A coach somewhere is pissed off and some other guys are constantly telling you what's happening, even though you're watching. The best part of all is, no matter where you are, who you are, or where you're from, you're stupid for liking the team that you do.<br />
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This is an individual's way to somehow claim some kind of specialism over another by simply liking a certain team for whatever reason they wish; usually because that specific team plays in a stadium located in said individual's home town (not quite the smartest reason. Yeah, I'm talking to you, Panther fans). All I ever hear is "our team" this and "our team" that. What do you really have to do with this team you claim to be a part of? Do you even personally know and possibly give hand jobs to any professional athletes? I don't know anyone who's even an associate to a pro athlete, so I cringe at the whole "we won" philosophy. Let me just sum up this part of my thought by saying: If you think that's your team, show me a check made out to you from someone in the NFL or shut the hell up.<br />
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What I don't understand is how this possessive attitude can not only make a Pittsburgh fan bite your face off........like in that movie, but it disappoints people with no real affiliation. In this [The Super Bowl's] case, Colts fans (The Saints won tonight. In your face, Payton Manning). Either way, for some reason, you're required to pick a side. It's like a war, where prejudice is issued to you by your friends and family. You're not allowed to just enjoy a game and commend the team on their good plays. You're almost always obligated to hate it when the team that you don't favor makes a good play. If this was food, no one would ever eat Hardees again and everyone would be held at gunpoint to eat a Mega Mac.<br />
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It's just one of those things in this life I just don't get. Nothing people on a field throwing a ball around that I don't know could make me happy or sad. It makes almost as much sense as the way people appoint food and drinks a gender because it has certain colors or tastes. I'll be damned if I'm gonna lose my man card somehow because I like those little pink snowballs.<br />
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After everything is said and done, it reminds me of the OJ trial. All over America, you're going to have a big group of people that are happy with the results, while another big group of people are not only distraught, but probably lost a good chunk of money because the stats said, "go ahead, use your kids college fund, you'll be able to put more in after you win this bet.......oh, and kill your parents." After the game is over, people show up at work the next day to gloat or say, "shut up, dude".<br />
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If you ask me........I'd rather just have a snowball..........<br />
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Not that kind of snowball, pervert.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-86292445241315107942010-01-13T19:47:00.000-08:002010-01-14T01:52:31.092-08:00"The Nothing Report" & "Braking Entertainment" Both Hate Oasis<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV_LB_31BfSNGxKlNe8_D0l9gRFtINrNUvlO7H4FydyTS1dnIZXFiyebJjhxe_dtNWk5wMmd7UzPFft_ZMghtmOcQxoxJttgjfZdRMfO9oeUxytkkYEMr4GenV3IB4jzLQxuX2DZ1fNo/s1600-h/hamster-460_1014550c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXV_LB_31BfSNGxKlNe8_D0l9gRFtINrNUvlO7H4FydyTS1dnIZXFiyebJjhxe_dtNWk5wMmd7UzPFft_ZMghtmOcQxoxJttgjfZdRMfO9oeUxytkkYEMr4GenV3IB4jzLQxuX2DZ1fNo/s320/hamster-460_1014550c.jpg" /></a>I've finally finished my first video to be released on Youtube which happens to be a literal music video. If you're bored and get burnt out on chronically masturbating to cross-dressing pigmys that eat placentas and finger paint on each other with hamster poo, you can check it out <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XdGp_u0f7o">here</a>. In the course of my life on youtube, I'll be doing video blogs for The Nothing Report, maybe more literal videos, some other stuff in the style of Mystery Science Theater 3000, and if we ever get some money we'll begin our sit-com project "Braking News" The name for our database of thought is kind of a play on that name, Braking Entertainment. We don't have our own website yet; let's face it, I'm just not that technologically advanced. The best I can do is spend a day and a half figuring out how to fumble my way through windows movie maker without getting skid marks in my underoos.<br />
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</div>I've always wondered why Batman spent his spare time daydreaming about small boys dressing like him.<br />
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Why would I do video blogs when i can just write out my frustrations? There's a simple answer for that.....<br />
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I've got a cool hat.<br />
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Anyway, since writing is what I do best, That's pretty much what my endeavors will involve on my end. I don't have any cast members yet for our web show, so in my spare time I'll just be coming up with video blogs and trying to find the thin line that borders rape with my wife....then I'll cross it only slightly.<br />
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It's too bad I'm into reverse rape.<br />
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............more on that later.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6704678335573783761.post-44845906106856547542009-12-25T10:36:00.000-08:002009-12-25T10:40:06.554-08:00All I Got For Saturnalia was ChristmasToday is one of about 5 days a year where everyone deems it necessary to make me wake up and do things. Looks great on paper I'm assuming, but even though I didn't get that memo, somehow I'm still responsible. Everywhere I go people are telling me to have a merry Christmas. I don't always find it imperitive to let them know that I don't celebrate pagan holidays because, well, they have no idea why of all things I don't take part in their ignorance. Just getting my comic books last week took everything out of me answering a question from one of the guys working there. The internet isn't well known in the world of the baby boomer generation, so no one older than 40 is all that equipped to research fact from fiction. There are exceptions of course, but I make generalizations on my own web page because no one reads it.... and because it makes christians mad.<br />
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The idea of Santa Claus just confounds me. Of course any sane adult knows how fictional it is to think that one man could drink that much milk in one night, but just the concept of christians that supposedly live by faith to believe the invisible and spiritual actually think that it's alright to convince their child that someone like Santa Claus is real, then when the kids find out their infallible parents lied to them, they're still supposed to believe by the same parents' word that God is also real just kind of sickens me....that and the urban definition of space docking. How do the christians of the world even begin to wonder why most countries think they're idiots? They teach their kids to believe in God, Santa, The Easter Bunny, The Tooth Fairy, The Boogey man, The Man on the Moon, Christopher Walken, the female orgasm, ghosts, aliens, and the myth that Halle Berry is actually black. How many of those things do you think are real?<br />
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I see 2.<br />
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Do you think for a minute your child will believe in something that you teach them when you lie to them about so much to begin with? If I was your kid I'd shoot you in the face with a bazooka that fires alligators, which is what I asked Santa Claus for, just to rub it in. <br />
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If any of you old school christians that "learn" everything you think you know by what your uneducated pastor tells you, The facts about Christmas, Saturnalia, Brumalia, the Winter Solstice, and the simple fact that none of your pagan adopted holidays have anything at all to do with God, Jesus, or Bee Arthur are easily researched. Don't bother trying to argue with people that actually know how to check facts and do proper research just because your momma told you there were three wise men. You might as well start burning your children alive in Gehenna like a true pagan.<br />
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I just found a website you can begin with right<a href="http://therealtemple.blogspot.com/2008_12_01_archive.html"> here.</a> I haven't read that much and it might not be completely accurate, but that's not really my responsibility is it? Maybe some people won't make me do all the work for them and spoon feed 'em like little baby birds this time.<br />
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Anyway, have yourself some nice pagan debauchery and christian drunk parties this year. I can't wait to hear your New Years resolutions. If anything they probably involve sending Christopher Walken a big apology letter.<br />
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...and Welcome Back Black Gandhi, it's been a while.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18148682822068621573noreply@blogger.com3