Archive | May, 2012

The Killing

31 May

He sent this photo and the below. Great advice for those of you who qualify:

“Whenever you’re finished with your killing mattress, just throw it out front next to the flowers. Because remember– a scared neighbor is a quiet neighbor!”

Weirdness just follows him around it appears.


Fun With Words Part 2,182

31 May

Long time coming…

“Once I was hitting on a girl in Chicago and used the word “sale-able” to describe something, and she spent the next ten minutes correcting me and insulting me, wondering how someone with such a great education could use such an obviously incorrect word. Well I hope that bitch was watching re-runs of Million Dollar Listing yesterday, because they used that word like FIVE TIMES! In your face you stupid idiot! In other word-related news, ever think about how very different the words URBAN and URBANE are? The E must be like the father who never comes back from getting cigarettes and fucks everything up. I wish Dad would’ve done that. Oh well, can’t win em all!” 

The definition of urbane.

She Strikes Again

30 May

He always tells me not to tell people about my dreams, and then he does it…

“Had another Lohan dream last night. This time we were actually dating, and my friends weren’t handling it well. Jealous fuckers. I’m pissed at them today about it. Because that’s how I roll. If I have a dream where someone fucks me over, that person is OUT TO GET ME!”

But does she dream about him?

Please to enjoy the first installment of the Lohan dream sequence:

Somebody’s Crying

30 May

And I’m guessing it was him…

“I used to hate it when I saw dudes wearing sunglasses at night. But then I realized, they’ve probably just been crying all day and their eyes are all puffy. I know that’s what I do!”

I would cry too if I was hanging out with the chick on the right.

Updates From The Frontline

29 May

I was whisked away to a lake where time stood still and the Internet did not exist. He went to a wedding in New York. Pardon the delay. Here are the tons of things he sent me:

“Manhattan is a dope place to go if you want to feel like the King of the World one second, and like committing suicide the next. Bring the family!”

“Fashion update from the frontline: Purples are in. Douchebags have co-opted neon. Everything silk. Silk pants even. And ladies, make sure that shit is see-through!”

“Just walked down Canal Street. Snakeskin boots? More like Fakeskin boots– AM I RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT?!?!?!?!?”

“Learned a lot about assholes tonight at Scores. Biggest take-home: If you’re gonna regularly make that ass clap, get that asshole bleached.”

“New York is the only place where you can simultaneously sit ACROSS FROM a runaway and NEXT TO the guy who’s going to kill her later.”

“An argument broke out on the subway tonight. Not IN a Subway– that would be amazing– could you imagine all the tomatoes and cold cuts flying everywhere?!?!?!?! Anyway, these two dudes were arguing with a woman sitting next to them, and I caught some real gems. First off, she accused them of being gay based on the fact that “Now that Obama said he’s down with being gay, everyone wanna go homo.” When they explained to her that they were not in fact gay, that they were two eligible bachelor ballers making “G’s,” she cleverly retorted that “G must stand for Garbage, because that’s how you be dressin!” That got a big rise out of the audience, a colorful cast of central casting castaways. But the real topper was yet to come. When she accused them of being drug dealers, one of them did not shy from the fact, brazenly announcing with raised voice, “So what? We work at Costco, AND WE DEAL DRUGS! So fuck you!” Obviously the argument was over at that point, the young man having employed the virtually unbeatable “We work at Costco and sell drugs” trump card. Her only shot to win at that point was if she happened to be a tranny prostitute who worked at Spencer’s Gifts.”

And then he stopped sending texts and emails. Maybe he tried to buy drugs from those guys and they killed him. Stay tuned. 

“First time’s free…”

The “Thing” About Black Girls

24 May

The one and only thing I guess…

“Here’s the thing about black girls– they’re so fucking confident, “gangster” if you will (and I WILL!!), that sometimes they don’t even take all their clothes off when they have sex with you. Like they have an important meeting ten minutes after you’re done fucking them, and they don’t want to waste time with dumb shit like putting their shirt back on. So just be okay with that, okay?”



23 May

When he makes them, you know they’re going to make sense…

“Just came up with a great paper topic for you for next year: What would happen to thugs if they were suddenly unable to purchase huge cans of Arizona Iced Tea? My hypothesis is that they would all shrivel up and die, and that we as a society should petition for the cessation of production of this Thug Passion. You’ll probably need to “prove this” somehow, but I think it’s a solid base to start from.”


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