Friday, October 27, 2006

I forgot to pay homage to Gorto!

About 35 seconds into this video, two things happen. The first is the featured Corgi puppy channeling Satan. The second is your face falling off from how adorable it all is.

This is the kind of video serial killers watch while they're filleting a sobbing pre-teen.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Isn't there an "o" in country?

Run Ronny Run was a terrible movie. However, there were nuggets of delight beneath that slow-moving tragedy.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

How precious

Mayor Michael "Poohbear" Bloomberg's youngest daughter, Georgina likes to give back, according to the "Talk of the Town" section in this week's New Yorker. She performs this selfless philanthropy by recycling used equestrian gear. It seems that the desire to mount a horse and participate in show jumping isn't exclusive to wealthy cumguzzlers hell bent on divvying up our country into larger slices for themselves. In fact, according to Ms. Bloomberg, that's a gross stereotype and should be lopped in with other bigoted presumptions (i.e. blacks dominate at sports, brown people are dangerous, people who drive SUVs should be ritually executed). She says in the article "It's a stereotype. Yes, there are a lot of people who are wealthy in our sport; we understand that. But I have a couple of friends who have no money. They work at a barn to be able to get a riding lesson."

By "a couple of friends" do you mean "the help?" By "work at a barn" do you mean "work at your barn?" Just want to clarify. After all, we're talking about a self-made woman here:

"My father pays for the horses, and he pays for school, but other than that I support myself."

Other than that you support yourself? Supporting oneself does not include delivering encouraging monologues into a mirror. Seriously, I don't mind someone having money. I hear it's really nice. However, please don't try to bullshit the proletariat and, I suppose, yourself with this nauseating attempt to relate. It's embarrassing. She purports to support herself by show jumping. SHOW JUMPING!!!! SHOW FUCKING JUMPING!!!! AW, COME ON!

I would like to wrap this post up in a grand, concise way, but I have a thing. Night all.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Hitler was here

The Germans are a people of inclusion. For instance, if one is enjoying his third liter of fresh beer at the Hofbrauhaus, he can witness the impromptu and unified chanting of drunken German citizens and somehow get caught up in it himself. Soon, the whole place is aroar, and you've formed a National Socialist Party. See? It's easy.

My trip to Germany had many highlights, but I'll hold back on the details until the photos are up.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

I come three time champwoon

I received an email from west coast friend and former roommate Matt Stubbs suggesting perhaps The Iron Sheik might want to run for office. Why, that's not a bad idea, I thought, as I finished snorting blow off of a hooker's asscheeks. Then, I considered Matt's idea. I support The Sheik in 2008. Some of his issues:

- that jabroni Brian Blair
- making sure people are lucky for to Hacksaw come save you
- fighting the moral degradation brought on by Michael Jordan
- make that: Michael Jackson
- education

I'm all for it. And if North Korea has the audacity to attack the U.S. with nuclear weapons, President T.I. Sheik will put the missiles in the Camel Clutch, break their backs, make them humble, for God, and Jesus, and Mr. McMahon.

Monday, October 09, 2006

Holy fucking shit! Kittens!

My family's two cats totally had fucking kittens. These kittens, who are adorable, are almost too much to fucking handle. Here's a picture of my mother putting the screws to one of these manipulative bastards, asking the tough questions like "why are you so fucking cute, you fuck?" and "what's to stop me from squeezing your little fucking head until it pops, you're so cute, you prick?"

Here's a series of pictures where the infant cats are purposely being woefully precious. What they're saying here is "love us." It's offensive.

I'm pushing for the white one to be called "Tank" because it refuses to be deterred by anything. ANYTHING. It's "aunt" cat beats the shit out of it, but it plods forward with steely determination like the Terminator. Kittens are just too fucking much and need to be stopped.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

So, I guess the Iron Shiek's a Yankee fan

I accompanied D.W. Jones & friends to an early evening ballgame at Yankee Stadium on Saturday. This would be Davey Jones, but not this blog's Davey Jones, who has become a sort of strange, mythological beast who is nine feet tall and fourteen axe handles wide and can split logs with his laserface (song coming soon!). Seeing Davey always warms my heart. Seeing the Yankees play warms my heart too. So, I was feeling pretty warm all over. Then, Davey raped me.

I've grown to really enjoy sitting in the bleachers. Not just because it's cheap, but because it's filled with raving lunatics hellbent on giving at least one poor dope a hard time. That poor dope, in this instance, was a particularly brazen dullard who had the sheer audacity to don a Mets cap in the midst of drunken barbarians (one can't drink in the Yankee Stadium bleachers these days, but there are plenty of bars across the street to aid in maintaining a steady stream of brash, blind fandom). Needless to say, the Mets fan was burned alive at the stake, as an impressive and concerted chant swelled from the bubbling mass: "YOU ARE GAY! YOU ARE GAY! YOU ARE GAY!" Indeed. Continuing on this theme, the crowd gleefully screamed a bastardized version of the song YMCA, which was now reworded to ask the simple question "Why are you gay?" In addition to this, one particularly clever Neanderthal bellowed "I saw you suckin' a D! I! C! K!" The fact that these chants were not only boisterously performed but premeditated was astonishing. These guys actually set time aside to deliberately construct an alternate version of an already woefully gay song just so they had fodder for potential hapless enemies trying to mix in with their own. Of course, their banter didn't stop there. They also attacked the Red Sox, anyone snooty enough to sit in a box seat, Iraqis, Communists, eugenics, and the fact that Rocky Balboa hadn't come out sooner. These are my people. Angry. Ignorant. Abusive. New York sports fans.