Long Time No Post

Please please pardon the long delay in posts. A lot going on here, but who cares about all that, let’s get to the terrible advice, shall we? Pretend this little thing never happened? Just call it even? Bygones being bygones and whatnot? Thanks! On with the action…

“I’ve been in hiding for a bit, biding my time and recording a rap album with songs like, “Cinco de Mayo Is Racist and for Faggots,” and generally just masturbating a lot. Also fucking occassionally. I’m in incredible fucking shape. My core is ripped and my dick has holes in it. But mostly I’ve been slanging the old ham hock around myself while listening to “Sketches of Spain” by Miles Davis and crying. Research, I call it. And here’s what I’ve discovered– something incredible. Something that’s going to change the jerkoff game for good. I’ve discovered the A#1 search term for every site. What’s that? You didn’t know you could plug search terms into Internet Porn? What the fuck is wrong with you, amigo? It’s 2012! Anyway, as soon as it hit me, it all made sense. Sort of like the time I accidentally ate a quarter of mushrooms and had a long talk with Jesus about the band Cake and whether or not I was supposed to die in that moment or not. I wasn’t, thank God, because Cake was about to release ANOTHER SINGLE. Anyway times two, here’s the scoop, you flagrant piece of poop:

The word is LUCKY. 

“6 AWESOME WOMEN AND 1 LUCKY GUY!”

“HORNY TWINS MAKING A DICK LUCKY”

“TWO HOT ASSES FOR ONE LUCKY DEVIL”

and even: 

“LUCKY DICKFACE”

 The list goes on and on. Lucky guys get in the best sexual situations, and it’s high time we all took advantage of their good luck. Which brings me to my real point– You want to be perceived as lucky. That should be the goal. I remember being in a Blockbuster (which was a “video rental store”) as a teenager and seeing this dopey mope of a guy with his arm around a hot girl. “What a lucky fucker,” I said to my friend Rude (RIP Rude). And Rude told me something I’d forgotten until now: “Maybe he’s lucky… or maybe he’s the only dude that ever had the balls to hit on that super hot chick. And because he did, now he gets to lick her pussy, which I’d imagine tastes a lot like cinnamon applesauce by the Mott’s company.” Okay he didn’t say all that, but you get the point. People call dudes lucky who have a lot of money, or have a hot girlfriend, or drive nice cars way too fast in school zones while blaring Jethro Tull. But maybe they’re not lucky. Maybe they worked really hard to make that money, or had the Nuggershiwitz to hit on the tall blonde at the bar that all the other dudes were just staring at, or the gumption to ignore a crossing guard and mow down three disabled 8th graders because they needed both hands to do the air flute solo.

The point is, be that guy people call lucky. And let them call you that. Because you’ll know it’s not luck behind it all. It’s cocaine and revenge. Cocaine. And revenge. And I bid you goodnight with that, hermanito.”

He’s right. Holy shit he’s right.

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On Money And Women

Tough week last week. Had a death in the family hence the lack of posts. Back in action now with all the dickheaded things we normally post! His take on the Thanksgiving football games was this…

“Please to review the attached photo of the owner of the Jets, Woody Johnson. He is 4’6″ tall and looks like a troll I met under a bridge when I was on mushrooms in 2001. His sons are both retarded because you can’t mate with a troll and expect anything less. But what else do you see? A hot wife. And why? Because ALL WOMEN CARE ABOUT IS FEELING SAFE. And shit tons of money makes everyone feel safe. Look how happy this chick is, even though she had to peel back nine inches of troll foreskin to find his one inch dick– TWICE! She doesn’t give a fuck though. Just remember that. If you can make women feel safe, you can have all the women you want. That’s why hideously ugly tall guys have hot girlfriends and why I bang hot chicks every week even though I have very serious emotional problems, many of which are currently undiagnosed because I refuse to be honest with the doctors.” 

Here’s the photo in question:

Just to clarify, he is not a troll and his children are not retarded. But his wife is a money grubbing piece of skirt steak. That part was true.

Check In With Him

Wait til you see how clever of a joke that is!

“Just recalled the time I bounced a check to a drug dealer in college. He came back to my room like he was gonna tell me my dog died, all sad looking. And really sweetly he mumbled, “Your check bounced man. For the QP? It bounced. I’m sorry, man.” It was a sticky situation, because I’d already sold some and smoked a lot of the quarter pound of weed in question, and CLEARLY I didn’t have the money to pay him back. And he just felt TERRIBLE for me! Even mentioned that he wouldn’t tell anyone about it. Drug dealers get a bad rap. Most of them are really sweet. We eventually worked out a payment plan over a few bowls, and six months later, he had his $400 back. No interest. I don’t pay interest.”

I swear to god if you type “sad drug dealer” into Google this is like the 10th pic that comes up. Amazing!

Happy Veteran’s Day!

He’s celebrating in style…

“Hug a veteran today. They fought hard for our country so I could take the day off, come over to some rich Jewish girl’s condo that her daddy bought her, make her cook me brats and give me handjobs while I look at the ocean and think about stabbing guys in a trench. GOD BLESS AMERICA!”

One for each hand.

“Tonight I Ate Some Mushrooms”

And what follows makes perfect sense…

“Tonight I ate some mushrooms, watched the Presidential Debate and then went to a concert. What a night. Here are some things I realized:

1. One day I want to be one of those people they mention when they’re like, “I met a school teacher in Reno the other day, and she was dead. But I spoke to her via a medium and a Ouija Board. And she said we need more teachers.” I want to be that dead woman.

2. I want to make a blog called “When Hipsters Cry” that is simply pictures of hipsters crying. They’re all a bunch of bitches anyway so I bet we can do it. Did you know that people who are ACTUALLY COOL don’t want to live in Brooklyn anymore because they have dipshits on trust funds with rolled up jeans and projective personality disorders looking at them with scowls as they walk down the street? True story. My friend is a super cool Norwegian music video director, and he’s moving out because he’s tired of kids rolling their eyes at him while he makes cool shit happen and they have their parents beeping through on the other line trying to loan them money… AGAIN.

3. I’m going to start lifting weights again, get up to 205, grow my hair out JUST PRECISELY to the length where it requires berets (sp?) and then start wearing them in my hair, taking time to pin back my locks with my beautiful weightroom muscles while I block someone’s view at a clown college graduation or whatever it is I’m watching.

4. Did you know that if you’re on mushrooms at a concert and you go in the bathroom, the sound of people peeing and pooping will actually perfectly mimic the beat of whatever song  is playing> Try it! 

That’s all.”

Oh that’s all? Thank God. 

Genius. Pure genius.

A Vote Against

everything…

“With the election coming up, I want to impress one thing upon you– NEVER TRUST THE GOVERNMENT TO DO ANYTHING RIGHT. They just mailed me my Voter Registration Form, and guess what? It didn’t fit in the provided envelope until I folded it three times, and the envelope requires a stamp! Why? Because a government worker with no incentive to excel made the form, and then his boss decided to screw me right in my ass out of 45 cents or whatever the fuck a stamp costs nowadays. A nickel? I don’t know, Sandra buys them.”

SANDRA?!?!?!?!

Amazing Voicemail

I’ve been trying all morning to figure out how to post this and I’ve finally got it. He left me this voicemail at 3AM his time last night. He’s always loved doing the SportsCenter guy’s voice…