Don’t Make Him

9 May

I think I pissed him off:

“I only drink two things: Coffee and Alcohol. I only smoke two things: Cigarettes and Weed. I only shoot two things: Hoops and Clay Pigeons. Don’t make me add a third, bitch.”

This shit ain't funny!

This shit ain’t funny!

One Or The Other

8 May

He can’t figure it out…

“This is a picture of a guy on my street who nonchalantly walks his skateboarding dog every day. One time I said something amazing to him like, “What will they think of next!” and he didn’t even acknowledge me. I’m trying to figure out if I think he’s more of an ASSCLOWN or a CLOWNDICK. Definitely one of the two but the distinction is tricky here. On one hand, he’s a total ASSCLOWN for teaching his dog to skateboard and then acting like all dogs skateboard, when we all know the only thing all dogs do is go to Heaven. On the other hand, he’s a major CLOWNDICK for not recognizing greatness in his presence and getting all googly eyed when I took time out from texting my former secretary to tell him a joke. What do you think?”

I'm going with CLOWNDICK.

I’m going with CLOWNDICK.

Long Time No Post

7 May

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.

He’s right. Holy shit he’s right.

He Got A Checkup

27 Feb

And his worst fear was confirmed…

“Well, it turns out I’m NOT dying after all. I know, I’m bummed too. I went to the doctor yesterday and explained my symptoms– morning dehydration and headaches, burning pee and stomach pain, farts, strangers in the living room, broken dishware, poorly written emails to exes, camera crew in the bushes, kids next door are crying, and my orange tree is dead. He called the cops but the CAT scan came back clean.”

FUCKIN CAT SCAN!!!!!!

FUCKIN CAT SCAN!!!!!!

Don’t Walk Away

24 Feb

from your problems, or let them walk away from you…

 “Three days ago my feet come up to me and say, “We wanna try Meth!” and I was all like, “Do your thing, feet! Nobody’s holding you back!” Three hours ago they show up all beat to shit asking to borrow $15. And $15 is a weird amount to ask to borrow. Just say $20, it sounds more businesslike… I KNOW IT’S FOR DRUGZ FEET!” 

Looks like he has bed bugs.

Looks like he has bed bugs.

New Pickup Line

17 Feb

For any of you who HATE getting laid:

“BOOM! I did it again. Just came up with the sickest new pickup line in history. Here’s what you do– Go up to a hot girl at a bar and say, “Hey did you hear that Subway’s running a $5 footlong special?” She’ll be all like, “Sure, what? Okay, like, so…” or whatever girls blather. Then you say, “Yeah it sounds like a pretty good deal, until you find out that my apartment is running a SIX-INCH SPECIAL FOR FREE!” Then you pop your eyebrows up and down and hail a taxi because that bitch is coming home with you! When you get there make sure you’ve purchased at least two but preferably four six-inchers from Subway because who knows what she’ll be in the mood for.” 

Years ago he made a song about Subway called, “There’s a Fly On Everything.” It ruled. I will try to find it. 

This can be yours!

This can be yours!

Rest In Peace

13 Feb

To his genitals…

“Well, it finally happened. I blew my dick off. I was driving around bumping “Sketches of Spain” by Miles Davis and then “The Great Milenko” by ICP just to even things out, and I was smoking a bong by myself because I’m a sad, lonely rebel… and I had my lighter tucked under my balls for quick access… and I farted. The ensuing explosion destroyed my driver’s seat and also blew my nuggets to smithereens. So I guess I have to start doing heroin now like DJ AM. Rest in Peace homies.” 

Actual photo of the accident.

Actual photo of the accident.

%d bloggers like this: