Things I'm Doing Before I Die

I was originally going to title this "Things I Want 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.
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.

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.




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.

2. I'm taking a huge dump in Okinawa. I don't think i need to explain why this is a super sweet idea.

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.

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.

5. I want Anne Coulter to stop talking. I'm doing whatever is necessary to accomplish this enormous feat.

6. I'm going to mercilessly beat the first superhero wannabe that pops up. Why wouldn't I?

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.

8. I will create a time paradox with my junk.... we can only hope.





......... I'm not showing an image for that.



9. I will mercilessly beat Anne Coulter with Megan Fox's head. Why wouldn't I?

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.
I'll think of something, but this will get done.

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.

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.

Happy New Zombie Apocalypse!

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.

1. Starting my first restaurant

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 "Cats and Dogs Are Okay Now". 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.

2. Finding a place to live

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.

3. How am I going to get laid?

Just a little more difficult than finding a place to live, but contrary to popular belief, I will not be opening a whorehouse called "Cats and Dogs Are Okay Now". 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.

4. Becoming the ultimate gamer

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.

5. The worlds largest drug dealer

 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.





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.

Beau's List of Rules for Promiscuous Relations

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?
I call this Beau's List of Rules for Promiscuous Relations:









Rule #1: Always the bridesmaids, never the bride.......unless she's gonna do it.

This basically means that 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.

Rule #2: Utilize the buddy system.

Don't you hate it when you're running the triathlon and you get a cramp in your leg when no one's around?  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 use your hand.

Rule # 3: Be a jack of all trades.

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.

Rule #4: Extreme sex calls for extreme measures.

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 this 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.

Rule #5: Explore all the possibilities.

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.

Rule #6: Leave your friends in the dust.

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 ______."
No one ever loses friends with sex. They're just too stupid to think you're well aware of the fact that they are into sex, just not with you.

Rule#7: Test the waters for your fallback guy/girl.

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.

Rule #8: Get to know your partner(s).

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.

Rule #9: Kick your standards like a bad habit.

Ugly girls, pregnant, single moms, sociopaths, nurses, and even fat women with fibromyalgia and service monkeys need love too. Whether or not you 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.

Rule #10: When in doubt, deny, deny, deny.

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.

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.

Die More Harder - Ver. 2

 This post was one of my favorites. It was featured on a site called Scrivel.com 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$$hole edited my material just before I quit posting (and that's a no-no where I stand), I might as well let you read it from my home page. For the record, when someone wants to feature your writing on their site and they tell you they WILL NOT edit your work, they will re-neg on that promise 100% of the time. Oh, and to be a bigger a$$hole, I edited it myself for this post.

originally posted: October 2008

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.

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 That's having it your way.

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:  "Die More Harder:  Dying is Almost Impossible When You're Alive" (it's a work in progress title).




It's the year 2134.




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 VH1 entitled, "Roundhouse Kick of Love", seasons one through whenever the f$%# Chuck Norris says ...

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 you gonna stop Chuck Norris?).






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.

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.

He's got a new book coming out.

He's calling it:  "How to Smoke a Cigarette and Pretend it's Not a Tampon" (also a work in progress).

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Make Sure your S*#t is Still Mine!

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."?

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.

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!



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.

In lighter news, apparently some guy raped an eight day old baby. What a sick world we live in.