The Universal Serial [sic] Bus, Burning It Black With Bats n'Coons at The Strip Mall House & Mating With Natives in The Fine Print

The answer to the mass transit slash automobile slash energy sitch is OBVIOUSLY roadside USB charging stations. But while I'm totally for eating breakfast on the bus, I'm not so sure it needs to be "universal". The only way they are gonna get this plan off the ground is if they soften up the language. It should be IBC (International Breakfast Cruise) instead of USB (Universal Serial Bus).

I had a room in my house that was super long and skinny with a bunch of doors leading off of it into other rooms. It was pretty useless because it didn't really accommodate furniture well. Stupid idea for a room, I have seen them in other houses as well.

SPEAKING of which, my sister somehow convinced me that I needed to buy a new house in her neighborhood. I figured that because it was formerly an ugly strip mall, it would be cheap and I could just buy it with the proceeds of the sale of my own house. So I sold my house only to find that the new place was 2.5 million and I only sold my place for just over half of that.

NOW I'M MOVING INTO A STRIP MALL.

Not only that but the second they found out that I was the new owner, a bunch of animals tried to move in. Huge bats and raccoons mostly. At least they are night time animals, we'll at least be able to hang out.

I deliberately set parts of the house on fire to obtain a smoky flavor. Plus it's way more economical than black paint.

Oh yeah, at the escrow signing, for once, I actually decided to READ through all the documents. Turns out that in signing, I was also agreeing to "mate with many native women". I thought it sounded kinda racist and sexist which is sorta cool I suppose.

One last thing, be careful what you wish for, my new strip mall house doesn't have one of those long skinny rooms connecting the other rooms, now I have to go outside to go into the next room.

Point is:
You can't take off your pants in a strip mall.


That's all for now.
Don't get caught organizing a "Pee Though The Donut Contest" fundraiser in the former donut shop to raise money to make it the new bathroom.
Your Grandmother's Private Business,
John McCain's Neck

Fresh Catch Sneakers Straight From The Stream, Teaching The Grand Kids To Swear & Take Pity on The Holy For The Fuck They Know Not

I finally took a trip to visit the place from where my white velco shoes spawn. The stream that produces them flows into a very beautiful pool with a nice little beach where old leathery fishermen cast their nets to retrieve them. They release the flipping fish because it's just the white shoes they are after.

I'm totally into sustainable living.

I went down to my garage and someone elses in-laws were down there nosing around my Cadillac getting their old gummy fingers all over it. Not wanting any interaction with them I retaliated by teaching their grand kids, who were having a meeting in the back yard, to yell "fuck" a lot.

Pick your battles yo.

My old roommate showed up to start trouble but I nipped it in the bud. I cleaned up my act and paid all my outstanding tickets and totally came clean with everything.

She was bummed that she didn't get to yell.

But that's because she doesn't know that yelling without swearing is counter productive. I tried to tell her that yelling "fuck" a lot would make her feel better. Too bad she's a Mormon.

Poor Mormons don't get to swear.

I'm a humanitarium.

Point is:
Fuck.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught thinking *flipping* was a wuss fucking substitution for *fucking* when the fucking fish were fucking literally fucking flipping.
Your Favorite Trouble Mustache That Requires Daily Removal,
Madonna's Hot Dog Scrubber

Secret Balloon Animals at The Australian Plumbers Convention, Scheisty Tom Cruise Effs Up The Hot Dog Talks & A Little Too Much Stay Loose For Dad

Since I haven't had a job since 1991 you might say that I am a bit out of touch with "office culture".

I just did air quotes.

But of course you'd be WRONG because you don't know that I regularly go on company outings. I find out about them by eavesdropping.

Anyway, I just got back from a company outing in Australia. Plumbers they were. They made all sorts of secret balloon creatures, it was very culty, sorta moose lodgey and perhaps a bit free masonry.

"Free masonry!? Sign me up, I need a new chimney and I'm BROKE!"

See how I tied in the first reference to "office culture" with a joke that sounds like it might come from whatshisname boss dude from "The Office"?

I do that sometimes.

As I was saying, I ate their only cookie.

If you didn't know how to make a bunch of Australian plumbers sad, you do now.

Oh yeah, the girl that was hosting the convention thingy was naked.

Also, Tom Cruise was negotiating my hot dog contract with the Bush People and was totally pulling the old "But Will Mexicans Work Here?" trick.

But I was on to him.

Gee that sounded gay. Gee. I mean GEE. I mean AY, I mean WHY!!??

What does a gay horse eat?

HAAY!

Later on I discovered my dad, also in Australia, living in complete squalor. When dad goes on vacation, he vacates EVERYTHING TIMES TWO.

NICE TURD ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR DAD --- WEEEEEEEEE!!

Point is:
Australians LOVE Men at Work.

Sorry for yelling.

That's all for now.
Don't et caught repeating GEE three times when WHIZZ wouldda been better even with the whole gay tie in.
Your Least Favorite Snack Slash Ejaculate Combo Slash Underground Circuit Party Name,
Cheese Jizz

Freckled Midget Basement Dwelling Super Models, Cop Dyke Grammz Probs Ain't Endangered Speciesed Like U Wish & My Sister Sings My Secret Song

Went back and visited my Dad's old house. It has a basement built for midgets or other basement dwelling type animals. I couldn't even stand up in there as a kid. Good for naps though. Or growing mildew.

Yum.

I ran into a super freckled girl who knew me from my modeling days. Yeah, I used to be a model, well according to her anyway, I wasn't about to argue with a freckled girl, she has it hard enough already. Besides, I COULD have been a model, -- you know, had I been smarter.

Speaking of which, there aren't a lot of grandmothers with Down's Syndrome.

Don't go planning any big events that require more than say ONE Down's Syndrome Granny. Even if you do a count down they won't show up.

They are THAT rare.

I figured out how to take a nap on my motorcycle while driving. Now everyone wants me to teach them. Even Madonna was acting all ass kissy. What do I mean EVEN? She is such an idiot. Poser cling-on copycat.

My sister and I discovered a weird little talent we share in common. She can sing songs with lyrics right out of my head. It has to be lyrics made up on the spot and she has to sing them out loud and at full volume or it won't work. Makes it kind of a hard special power to use for evil, I mean besides just the basic bothering of people which at that point would be just an extension of my usual super power. Try it with your little sister and tell me if it works. Thanks.

Back to the naps on motorcycles. A big cop dyke was fiddling with my motorcycle like it had a vagina, I was a girl and she was some gross mustache dude who thought it would turn me on.

She probably just needs friends.

Point is:
Models are Smart.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught thinking about cop dyke genitalia.
Your Reigning Miss Cop Dyke 2003,
Bruce Jenner

I Don't Drink In Your Butthole So Please Don't Crap In My Glass, Diversionary Portugués Hot Dogology & Til Death Do Us SPAZZ

I got the dirtiest glass on earth at the restaurant last night. I think a hobo goldfish lived in it for one thousand years.

Dirty glasses are a delicacy in some counties you know.

Yes I said COUNTIES.

I looked at a friends photography portfolio and tried to stay positive but it was really really hard. Especially because deep down inside, behind this egotistical facade, I'm actually a total dick.

My step dad, one of his pals and I, are building quonset huts and redesigning some of the playgrounds on Mormon temple grounds from hither to thither. The security guards give us shit because we don't have clearance to even be on the temple grounds let alone to be building crappy Hawaiian ghetto playgrounds out of overgrown tin cans on the sacred grass.

Luckily the guards are Brazilian so I trick them by speaking portuguese and feeding them hot dogs.

ALERT!

ALL BIOLOGICALLY BASED SECURITY METHODS ARE EASILY DEFEATED BY HOT DOG!

Speaking of which, I went to Alaska to scout film locations, you know, Ice Road Trucker style, gotta stay current. I'll probably make a film about ice road truckers since really that's all TV stations broadcast now.

I'm talking about HD cable. DUH.

Oh yeah, I panicked the fuck out all day yesterday because I thought I accidentally drunkenly asked this girl I've been following around to marry me. Luckily it was just a dream, including the panicking part. There were minor residual awake panic aftershocks for 57 minutes but they were pretty mild because I knew I hadn't been to Jamaica recently.

Point is:
Marriage is for fags.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught crapping out your half digested tongue when friends ask you to rate their shit.
Your Giganticest Douche Ever,
Matthew McConaughey

Sporty Silverspoonery on the Golf Course, Arty Silverspoonery in The Ghetto & E True Hollywood Silverspoonery on Melrose

I tagged along with a friend of mine on a golf outing. I don't like golfing. Too many silverspooners engaging in too much silverspoonery plorping out entire salad bars of silverspoonerisms with every jaw clop.

So yeah, I didn't have fun until I crashed his old Buick through his neighbors front door.

Incidentally, jackassery is a close relative and often a direct result of mega-silverspoonery.

Myself, well I'm a woodenspooner, as in born with a wooden spoon on my ass.

Speaking of child abuse, we went to a ghetto art gallery where everything was made out of stolen spray paint by knapsacky white skateboarder kids.

MORE SILVERSPOONERY!

Anyway, after that we drove down Melrose and I spotted Brad and Angelina shopping for new kids to match their new sofa. Luckily, in Hollywood, they now sell third world kids right there on Melrose.

Point being:
Adoption is The New Anitquing.
The Third World is The New Thrift Store.


That's all for now.
Don't get caught opting for woodenspooner over plasticspooner because plasticspooner would be what a silverspooner would say.
Your Top Resenter of Unwarranted and Ignernt Insinuations,
Howard Juno

Prince Gettin All Alex Hailey N'Shit, The Endzone Hijinx Total Fuck Up Embarrassment & Crowd Please on My Nuttsack Niggaz!

Prince had a surprise show at a local high school yesterday. The biggest surprise was that hardly anybody showed up, and those that did, didn't even realize it was Prince. He had corn rows and was about three shades darker than normal. It would have been easy to mistake him for Coolio if you weren't a super fan like me.

Anyway, he seemed all too happy to serenade me at the edge of the stage because I was the only one who seemed to give a shit.

It was pretty gay.

Later on I was playing football with a bunch of strangers. I made a touchdown and failed miserably at a celebratory
back flip.

It was pretty gay.

Way earlier, before my date with Prince, I stepped in as the lead singer for a really famous band who happen to be good friends of mine. As usual I failed to prepare, thinking my genius was such that I could just wing it and get standing ovations from here to Idaho.

But I really really sucked --

LIKE SUH-HUH-HUCKEDUH.

The crowd hated me, the band hated me, the security guards hated me, the air hated me, my hair hated me, a pear hated me, a bear hated me, cher hated me, Nelson Mandela hated me.

So I said a bunch of racist shit and left.

It was pretty cool.

I ended up at an all keyboard jam session in the basement of my friend's high end design store.

It was SUPER gay.

Point being:
Prince seems like a bottom.

That's all for now,
Don't get caught failing to be funny imitating Phish with a Casio pocket keyboard.
Your Tri-State Backwards Somersault Queen First Runner Up
Princess Scabby Scalp McGee (& the Revolution)

How To Get The Family Dog To Like YOU Best, Charmin's Nub Flapping Play by Play & The Grip Buttery Slaughter of Blob Zombie

I have a step brother who used to jack off Junior, the family dog. I have written about him before, we all wondered why he was Junior's favorite when nobody else really liked him. He did it by regularly giving Junior hand jobs, yeah, he masturbated the dog.

Lucky dog.

My mom apparently caught him.

Lucky her.

I have no idea why she felt like she had to tell me. TMI.

Anyway, here's the story, that very same step brother was born with wing type wiggly appendages growing out of his back but, thinking they were useless and umbelically lookin, the doctors clipped them off when he was a baby.

He tells everyone he meets about his wingy DNA and often demonstrates his nub flapping capabilities.

Yesterday I caught him mid demo so I joined in as his play by play announcer.

I filled my mouth with toilet paper as to sound extra toilet papery.

Ok.

So:

The main thing I hate about this new resurgence in "zombie culture" is that it really shows a tremendous lack of sensitivity to those of us who have to deal with ACTUAL zombies, not to mention, ultimately, the zombies themselves. If you think it's hard to blow off an undead's head with a shot gun, try doing it when the zombie has a look of hope in his eyes for the first time ever, like you're approaching him for an autograph or something.

Don't exploit zombosity.

It's mean to both the zombies AND those who have to re-dead them.

Anyway, that wasn't what I wanted to tell you, what I wanted to say was that I re-murdered the holy heck out of a really really fat zombie last night.

There aren't a lot of really fat zombies. FACT.

Also, dead fat is basically butter mixed with mayo, super duper splattery and messy, slippery yet also strangely grippy, like gummi worms or that sticky goo they sell to hang posters.

So yeah, Blob Zombie totally had that look of hope in his eyes. Not an easy re-kill for sure.

Point is:
There is no such thing as a useless appendage.


That's all for now.
Don't get caught dog whispering all breathy and steamy like.
Your Favorite Kernels of Corn,
John McCain's Teeth

Peeping Will Ferrell Sniffs The Christmas Tree, The Pastrami Pants Kid & The Backwards Dental Piano™

Went to New York for a minute. An old girlfriend works at SNL so we did pornish type things on the set when nobody was around. I think Will Ferrell might have seen us but he pretended like he didn't.

He pretended he was smelling the Christmas tree.

When I went shopping a little later someone let all the kangaroos loose which of course woke up all the napping children. Kangaroos are just giant rats you know. Same with some kids. I don't think malls should be keeping so many caged kangaroos anyway cuz this sort of think is bound to happen. Kangaroos gotta bounce man.

Fuckin Australians.

Speaking of napping & kids, my friend blatantly lied about a dead dog to his kid, telling him that the dog wasn't dead when it clearly wasn't "just napping".

Hi guts all over the place.

A little later I found out my friend had also been lying to the whole world about his kid being a boy when, as I accidentally and quite unfortunately found out at the swimming pool, he is clearly a girl. Ok not CLEARLY, but a very bad mannered little hermie nonetheless. I'll spare yalls deets but my brain is scarred with the images of whatever weird genitalia that kid had fluttering out of his/her swimming trunks.

Anyway, no more pastrami for me thanks.

On the other side of the pool kids were swimmoshing to Green Day and the Teletubbies who have apparently made an album together and are now on tour. I have to admit, as much as I don't like Green Day, the Teletubbies added a much needed twist to their schtick.

Nearly tolerable -- NEARLY.

Of course as soon as they spotted me they forced me to join them as a guest keyboardist on stage for a song or two. Somehow they managed to have my Backwards Dental Piano™ flown in just for the show.

The Backwards Dental Piano™ btw, is exactly what you might imagine, unless of course you aren't imagining loose wiggly bloody backwards teeth instead of keys.

What the fuck were you imagining anyway?

Point is: ultimately I had a cranberry jelly and mustard sandwich for dinner because Thanksgiving is right around the corner and I like mustard.

Summary:
Kids are perverts.

That's all for now,
Don't get caught pigeonholing every elf in sight.
Your Legumlican National Convention Key Note Speaker,
Hominy The Nominee