May 30, 2008

The Saddest Boobs On Earth, The Cheech and Chong Treatment of AC/DC and Maury Povich & You Hate This Story Because You Don't "Get It"

I met a woman who lactates out of her tear ducts. I wanted to ask her if she had to be sad for her kid to get any lunch but I didn't want to hurt her feelings because it's not like I was gonna start licking her face if the milk turned on. Her kid wasn't anywhere around.

Anyway she started lactating anyway, maybe she sensed my insensitive puzzlement.

It all reminded me of a poem a hippie might write.

Later on I kept calling the band members of AC/DC Cheech and Chong which prompted an hours worth of them begging me to join their band. Famous rockstars like to be called Cheech and/or Chong.

Later still I met Maury Povich and kept calling him Cheech mainly to see how long it would take before he realized I was referencing his wife. Her name is Connie Chung for all you dipshits who don't keep up with important shit about America's most inspirational broadcasters.

Anyway, he didn't get the joke.

Dipshit.

I presented an award at the local version of the Oscars for San Francisco artists. I kept saying:

"My warehouse is bigger than your hard drive lady."

I said it like 50 times, not in a row though.

They all giggled and nodded pretending to "get it" even though I was saying it to make no sense. Artists all have to pretend to "get" everything because they are always running around accusing people that hate their crappy art of not "getting it".

Try it, it's a great joke to play on artists.

Any gibberish will do. The worse they are as artists, the more they will nod with glee and fake understanding.

Dipshits.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught calling your mom a dipshit because you're hungry.
Your Second Favorite Dipshit,
Harvey "Cheech" Korman

May 23, 2008

I Lost My Shoes AGAIN, I Got Arrested AGAIN & I Killed a Cop AGAIN

It all started when I lost my shoes AGAIN. This time it was at the park in this little town up north. There was a lost and found through which I rummaged looking for them but they weren't anywhere to be found so instead I just decided to adopt some of the orphaned bastard shoes that some other drunk lost. Nobody was ever gonna claim them. They were ugly and gay.

Anyway, I got caught, and get this, they called the cops.

The cop was an evil little weight lifting bastard, the more I was nice and reasonable the more he saw it as an opportunity to fuck with me and be violent. He handcuffed me and put me in the back of his car which didn't even seem like an official police vehicle. I was like a mid eighties Cadillac with fast food garbage all over in the ripped up back seat. When I asked him about it he pistol whipped me and kicked me in the gut like 20 times. Yeah, unreasonable.

I coughed up gallons of goopy blood.

He was an AWFUL driver, we side swiped at least ten cars on the way to jail.

It didn't take me long to determine that he probably wasn't even a real cop and by the time I was standing before the fake judge I could see that I was right. Fake you ask? What judges do you know that hold court by candle light? Exactly. I was obviously doomed if I didn't do something to save myself.

Long, totally awesome story with lots of great details and plot twists short, I got loose from my handcuffs and killed the cop in the hallway. As he was laying there dying, gurgling blood still acting like an asshole, I maneuvered my butthole within an inch of his nose and farted. He deserved to die with a fart in his nose and so he did.

That's gonna be my move in the movie about my bad assery.

I doubt anyone will miss him, as I walked out of town everyone was trying to bloody high five me.

That wasn't me trying to sound british, my hands were actually bloody. DUH.

Anyway, small towns are nerdy.

Now Dominique:

That's all for now.
Don't get caught bragging about killing cops on the blog.
Your Anti-Hero,
Death Farter

May 22, 2008

Mr. Furley Was REALLY On Top of His Game, My Invisible Motorhome & The UnWangable Window Fog

I got really excited because I thought the people in the third basement moved out but it turns out they just sneak moved in to the penthouse. I really need to pay more attention to what my tenants are doing. Mr. Furley I ain't.

I bought a smallish Toyota motorhome and no sooner did I cram it with sleeping bags than somebody stole it. Everyone had an opinion about where it might have gone, as if it WENT somewhere, half of the people thought I just forgot where I parked it, the other half thought I might have sold it and forgot about it, and the other half thought I was just imagining that I bought it in the first place. All I wanted to do was take it to the beach so I could sit inside of it and still be inside but closer to the beach than normal. I like INSIDE.

Anyway, driving the other car home the windows got super foggy, couldn't see a damn thing. I kept wiping the windows but it would just fog right back up. They fogged up so fast that I couldn't even draw a window fog wang, by the time I would draw the second ball, the shaft was all fogged over. Record breaking window fog man, can't even draw a weenie.

I made sure I took off my shirt before going in the house to meet my new roommates. I figure if they meet me shirtless they won't be surprised when they find out I don't wear pants around the house.

Now Ally:

That's all for now.
Don't get caught drawing fog wangs on your grandma's medicine cabinet.
Your Resident DJ,
DJ Fog Wang Poo

May 20, 2008

That's It I'm Becoming a Stunt Dude, Everything's Funny Til Dad Breaks His Leg & Awkward Charity Boners 2008

I jumped out of a moving cab yesterday. It was doing 30 mph or so. I stumbled, tumbled and rolled a bit but didn't break any bones or bleed or anything gay like that. I definitely have stuntman potential.

Strangely, later on, my dad and I were joking about not having our cell phones with us for whatever reason, I mean talk about a humorous topic CELL PHONES? Get. Out. Anyway it was all fine and good until my dad climbed up the jungle gym to pretend that he was a cell phone tower. He lost his footing and came crashing down breaking his 70 year old leg all over the universe. He tried to keep the jokes going and good for him for that but shit, his leg was fucked.

In the waiting room at the hospital I accidentally took some dude's seat, when he returned from the bathroom all teary eyed he insisted that I keep the seat. But there was a catch, he got to use my lap as a pillow which wasn't awkward AT ALL. I fake nurtured him by stroking his hair because he was all crying and sad and I was trying to be understanding as if I'm actually a good person but really I kept thinking, I hope this isn't some creep who fakes sadness in hospital waiting rooms so he can get his face next to straight beardy wang. Then I checked to see if he had a boner because that would be the answer to that question and then I worried about how ironic it would be if I got a random completely unrelated boner and how then if he was legit and actually sad it would seem like it was ME who was the hospital room lap bandit.

Being charitable and kind is complicated when you factor in random boners.

Oh yeah, the waiting room was FILLED with cases and cases of booze and I helped myself. THANKS SICK PEOPLE :)

That's all for now.
Don't get caught thinking about awkward boner scenarios when dear old dad's leg is busted to shit.
Your Biggest Piece of Crap Waiting Room Magazine,
Better Homes & Gardens

May 19, 2008

Negroes Side With Me in Race Wars, Why You Never See Me & A Garbage Bag Full of Peanut Butter's Like a Constant Blow

As you know, cab drivers are either my best friend (95% of them) or my worst enemy (the other 5%). Last night I got a 5%er. I called him short and stinky and made fun of his race and shirt and my big giant black friend backed me up. It's good to have a huge neeg on hand when making racial trouble with the cabbies. Anyway, he was a wuss, best thing he came up with was threatening to drive us off a bridge. Course he didn't. LAME.

I saw an old friend on the street, he moved away years ago and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Anyway, I saw him first so he didn't see me AT ALL. I do that to most of you guys too so don't get all acting like I don't. Felt good though, always does. Yay.

I looked all over the place for peanut butter in 5 gallon drums but it isn't as easy to find as you might think, especially if you care about what kind of container it is in, a big garbage bag of peanut butter is too hard to manage and seems too much like poo. I guess it always seems a little pooish but when it guacs against your leg as you carry it, the point is glued home.

Also I found a hair dryer that I couldn't turn off even though it was unplugged and didn't have any batteries. Haunted hair dryer probably.

HAPPY VICTORIA DAY CANADA!

That's all for now.
Don't get caught acting all Canadian just because you ARE Canadian even though you bailed that parking lot at 19 days old.
Your Queen,
The Queen What Lives in England

May 18, 2008

Turds On The Dance Floor, Flinstoning The Barney Out of My Moped & Just How Much This Here Tongan Loves Utah

I went dancing last night. There were turds on the dance floor. Bummer.

On my way home my moped wouldn't go fast enough no matter how hard I flinstoned so I contemplated buying a big fat motorcycle until I realized that it would match my open hoodie with no shirt look I have been rocking ever since I got my six pack.

Speaking of my six pack, it looks really cool with the new scar of the Utah State Capitol I had scarified into my abdomen. Tattoos are for fags, scarification is all Tongan bro, step off and lob me a cooked pig neegs.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught comparing the danceable shoe slippiness of turds to traditional saw dust.
Your Eyeroll Inducing Pile of Snore,
Chris Tucker

May 16, 2008

Two Chords is Plenty For Foodfighting Yuppies, Vibing DoucheBags Away From My Passed Out Naked New Wave Lady & The Giant Life Sized Map At Six Flags

I bought a crappy guitar at a crack sale last night and then wandered the streets playing dozens of songs using the exact same two chords for every one. I felt like a mariachi dude cept I didn't have the crazy suit. I was singing at twenty billion decibels and people LIKED IT. I was having fun until I arrived at a yuppy party which of course was NUF which is FUN spelled backwards. Their food fights are even lame, I mean how the fuck can you screw up a food fight? I'll tell you how: SUSHI and BROWN RICE.

Back in the back room I found my little blonde new waver friend passed out naked in an ice cold barfy tub. She needs to reign it in a gallop or two if you ask me. I built a wall out of cardboard boxes to shield her from the googly eyes of the plentiful douchebags on hand, then I projected a vibe that let everyone know that they would be vaporized instantly if they even thought of molesting her. Yeah I'm a total super hero.

! went for a drive on "The Giant Life Sized Map" Six flags has been advertising. Of course it's just a road, I mean it's basically just the whole planet, the planet being a life sized globe. You pay 20 bucks and go through an entryway and on the other side is just everything else but now you're thinking LIFE SIZED MAP. Genius marketing. Anyway, I drove past a car full of happy people throwing peanuts. They were having such a blast on The Life sized Map which I found kinda pathetic and sad -- I should probably see a shrink about that.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught offending the locals by singing in mexican.
Your Dad's Fourth Wife
Janet Reno

May 08, 2008

Adam Sandlers Sermon Was a Pain in My Neck, Milfies Kid Was Biting My Moves & Family Bone Evening

I went to church yesterday and wouldn't you know everyone was all politics this and politics that and I was all

"NO MORE POLITICS. THIS IS CHURCH YOU IDIOTS!"

Of course I knew that church is always about politics but also I was there not to learn about Jesus but instead make jokes and do a little work for good old satan planting those seeds of doubt. I'm a good person, that's why.

Anyway Adam Sandler gave a half decent sermon in a bunch of wacky voices. My neck started hurting from looking to the left so much due to some genius designing the church with sideways rows as if it's a good idea to be facing the other half of the ugly ass church goers sitting on the other side. Leave that type of seating to gymnasiums NumbNuts.

Oh yeah, my old best friend from growin' up had box seats and he was tryin' really hard to be funny but NOPE, not funny.

Later on I was having sex with this MILF from church when I noticed her kid was watching. I tried to turn away and block his view with some magazines but he was intent on watching me bang his mom.

Then he tried to copy my moves. That wasn't gonna fly.

"Oh it's ok" she said, "We have a really open household."

She wasn't lying, the whole front of the house was missing and it wasn't long before the whole neighborhood was watching us do it and all of them were copying my moves too. BE ORIGINAL PEOPLE.

"I'm not into this public sex stuff." I said.

"We'll let's find a new place then."

Then MILFY, her kids and I all went hunting for a good private place to have sex. I mean for me and the MILF to have sex, not the kids, they don't get to have sex, they just watch. Pervy bastards.

I'm not calling her back next time she texts. She was desperate anyway. Bleh.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught changin up your game to fake'em out.
Your Favorite Place To Bone a MILF,
The Garage

May 07, 2008

The Typewriter Walkman Cubicle Bike, The Grinning Carrot Zipper Crevice & Betting on Jailhouse Shrink-to-Fit

You've all heard me pee on burning man a billion times already so I won't get into a rant here but you know, living in SF, whether you like it or not, you're gonna end up having a friend with a curly mustache and a tall bike and he's gonna have a girlfriend who still thinks tall silver boots and fur pants are AWESOME so what I suggest you do is every once in a while play along and make a musical keyboard out of an old typewriter and a pile of walkmans. Chances are you actually have an ounce of taste and can do it better than anything THEY do. Anyway, that's what I did yesterday. I also made a bike out of an office cubicle ALSO FOR THEM. Bad Burning Man Antic City.

While on my way to my best friend from childhood's house I discovered a ditch filled with sideways carrots, meaning the carrots were sicking out into the ditch like a big long orangetooth smile -- or maybe a zipper. I'm going to patent the carrot zipper so don't go trying to make a billion dollars just yet PAL.

I turned my back guest room into a jail so now all kinds of hoodlums go back there to gamble but it doesn't bother me because I have totally been preoccupied with finding the perfect shrink to fit suit. I just like feeling it shrink, I could probably get the same sensation if I wore pantyhose head to toe. I'm gonna go try that. Just kidding, what do you think I am, YOU? Yeah right, I'd sooner wear pantyhose head to toe.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught wearing pantyhose head to toe.
Your Non-Pantyhose Head To Toe Wearer,
Not That Pink Unicycle Dude

May 06, 2008

How Martha Stewart Feels 24/7, Much Ado About Thread Count & The Saucy Hypocrisy of Fetus Meatballs

One of my old roommates moved back in and very quickly decided to repaint the entry way which sent me into a rage more powerful than all the peppers in mexico. Why do I let my old roommates move back in? I DON'T THEY JUST DO IT UNTIL I FIND OUT AND CHOP THEIR HEADS OFF! Biggest mammas boy on the planet that one was.

I moved my bed to the park and one of my girl friends joined me but we couldn't sleep very well because everybody kept messing with my news sheets. Had I known the sheets would cause such a stir I would have just left on the old ones. People go NUTS for high thread count. STAY BACK ASSHOLES!

I'd also like to go on record that I actually tried to do something about the barbaric sandwich situation at the park. I tried to tell anyone who'd listen that the yummy sandwiches they devoured actually contained living puppies and newborn premature infants but apparently deliciousness is far more important than the sanctity of cuteness. I had to chase down and tackle at least 5 different cops while holding an armful of sauce covered squirming fetuses I'd rescued from sandwiches before anyone would even give one second of attention to the horror they called lunch. Fuckin San Francisco man, It's like fetuses are meatballs around here.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught taking a nibble just to see what all the hype was about.
Your Least Likely Liberator of Lunch,
The Holy Ghost

Cartoon Riots In Oakland, "Vow To Kill Me" Pfff, Yeah Right & More Cartoon Riots in Oakland

I flew to Oakland yesterday, I call it JOKEland or Brokeland or Croakland because I'm good with words. I didn't wear a coat or pants fro the flight so the wind was pretty cold on my wang. I had an adopted miracle baby riding along on my back just for the hell of it, never quite figured out what the "miracle" was but he seemed to be a well behaved little fella. Guess I should mention we weren't in a plane. I told you I know how to fly right? Well I do, I'll give you a ride one day if you stop acting so entitled.

Of course yesterday in Oakland was Cartoon Takeover Day I'm sure you read all about it elsewhere. I was really good at avoiding being touched by The Cartoons because, as you know, that is how they turn you into a Cartoon too. I don't think it would be all that bad to be a Cartoon but since I'm no gambler and I like being a non-cartoon why chance it. Having only three fat fingers seems like it would be pretty gay.

As everyone divided into tribes according to their own cartoonness or non-cartoonness I went on to the stadium and looked around for the key, which of course I found lickety split under a bleacher in a slurpee cup. I really wanted to meet the owner of the stadium so I had a mutual aquaintence introduce us. Turns out he's a hot headed wall eyed drug dealer on the run and for some reason he was convinced I was a cop so he vowed to kill me which was a little bothersome so I hopped into the back seat of an awaiting town car and flipped him off through the rear window as he chased behind me running like a doofus all handcuffed n'shit. HA - DICK!

Anyway, so back at the stadium we all waited for The Cartoons to show up, paint thinner and giant erasers in hand, you know ambush style, everyone was pretty tense but convinced that we had the upper hand and it would be all cancelsville for The Cartoons, but then the stadium itself turned into a big undulating cartoon comprised entirely of really colorful cartoon worms and the rest is too stupid and widely available on the internet to bather getting into here. Pick up a newspaper for once.

I swear I don't take drugs.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught contemplating the eraser qualities of the tip of your weehoo.
Your Very Favorite Topic Last Week,
Gas Prices

May 04, 2008

The Uncomfortable Gay Elderly Childrens Dace Contest, Bad Vibing The Boner Guy & Dealing With Thuggy Negroes That Was Sellin My Junk

I went to a very uncomfortable elderly gay dance contest in which the contestants were fully developed pre-teens and other assorted mutants. Apparently if you are elderly and gay it's ok to look at naked kids so long as they have huge boobs and/or long penises. OK I guess that's not very fair of me to say that, for all I know they were old people who were just really short and had childlike proportions/demeanors etc... Anyway, none of it was very exciting, I think that's another factor they consider with child pornography laws, you know, keep it really boring and they'll just say its art, I believe that's the number one requirement for getting an art grant too. Makes sense. Anyway, the show had many layers of leather and fur and there was also a lizard headed hairstylist. Whopdeedoo.

After I went with some rockstar friends and well known a native tomato slicer to another bar that was full of beds. A really tall girl climbed into my bed with me and we fooled around while bad vibing some random dude with a boner away the hell from us and onto another bed with another one of those tiny naked old people or fully developed kids that I mentioned earlier

On my way home we stopped at a yard sale type deal underneath a freeway overpass. I soon discovered that all the merchandise were my own personal belongings, including my leather jacket collection and my brand new sheets that had apparently been stolen. I went to discuss this fact with the people running the show who turnned out being these gigantic thuggy negro fellas who weren't too overly concerned with my grumblings so I did the reasonable thing and I lit the whole place on fire. I only felt a little bit sorry for them as they burned. Come to think of it I probably could have figured out a way to get back at them without burning all my own stuff but hey remember the LA riots and how they burned their own neighborhoods? Maybe I got the idea from that. OJ Killed those people on my birthday you know. Ask My shrink. HAHA you CAN'T CUZ I DON'T HAVE ONE. Don't YOU feel stupid.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught starting race riots on the blog.
Your Favorite Unknown Immigrant Tomato Slicer,
Morgan Freeman