Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Crawdads, Crackheads, Crying and Karate

Crawdads, Crackheads, Crying and Karate

help a child read good
buy a wino an ice cream
punch a pedophile

Busy, busy weekend all. Let's get to it.

So on Saturday, I donned my safari gear, filled my bait pouch with meth and Poison/Def Leppard/ Quiet Riot/ WHitesnake cassette tapes (because old Camaros and El Caminos don't use fancy schmancy cd players), and with the rest of my dojo travelled to beautiful Independence, Missouri to spar with a different school, part of our outreach program.

So we get there, and it is a pleasant surprise. It seems to be a pretty decent school, the people there are pretty awesome, good times sparring, plus I tit punched what was I am assuming a 15-16 year old girl, then kicked her in the stomach hard enough to make her turtle (I am not sure I made her turtle, and it was pretty loud, but I coulda swore I heard an anguished fart escape). The best part of sparring was when I got to spar with the instructor, and we were karateing it up so much we were almost out of the dojo and into the parking lot, where I would assume we would then switch to a West Side Story- style dance fight, replete with spiked mullets, Thriller jackets, too tight highwaters and tiny switchblades. Except I don't know how to hum.

Anyway, we finish the karawtefest, luckily no injuries, and it is decided we will go to Joe's Crab Shack to eat.

For those of you who do not live in the KC area or haven't seen the commercials because you are pooping into a sandtrap (support the troops), Joe's is a crabshack much like CHilis, in that it tries to look genuine or like a nice place to hang out, but unless you are wearing khakis, have spiked hair and engage in extreme sports, not for you.

So from the commercials, I order the "Orleans", which is a pound of crawfish, a pound of shrimp, some baby potatoes, a tiny corn on the cob all in a net. It was, firstly, without a doubt the most spicy food I have ever eaten in my life. My lips were on fire. even my fucking drink tasted like Hade's balls.

I must ask though: what is the allure of the crawdad? First of all, they look like big red grasshopers with claws. How appetizing does that sound? Second, there is an on average 1.5 minute process to go through EACH FUCKING TIME to get to the only part which is edible, which is the tail. Third, after all that work, you get a tiny tiny nibble of what COULD be a tasty treat, but the sample size is much too small to tell, much like I used to get told after dates (zing!). I mean, fuck me, there's a pound of crawdads in the Orleans meal, and I got maybe 2 ounces of actual fucking food. The rest of the meal was what looked like dead insects in a puddle of butter and fat. YUM...

"But Stevester, what does any of this have to do with crying crackheads" you may be wondering. Well, shut up and I'll get to it! Sorry, I am trying to go cold turkey on coffee and withdrawal is causing some grumpiness and a little anal leakage (I drink my coffee through a tube shoved up my ass so I get ALL the caffeine, which leads to awkward times)

So after the exhaustion of Saturday and sparring almost literally all day, coupled with spending 25 dollars on something I could dig around in any shit pond and eat for free, I was ready for a long, relaxing Sunday, wearing nothing more than my holey chicago bulls cutoff sweat pant shorts, dirty wifebeater and watching porn while the kids played outside. This, ladies, is the perfect day for a guy, the only way it could be better is if there was football on all day and there was PBR in the fridge. If some guy says he would rather go shopping with you or go see a play, he is gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Apparently, in order to get sexy time, I had promised weeks ago to go to a birthday party for my niece. I have no idea if it was really for sexy time, but that makes for a better story and my wife said it so it is easier to acquiesce than it is to argue. I don't particularly like my niece, I don't hate her but like any 15 year old young lady she is a little spoiled. But this part of the story isn't about her.

The party was to be held in a park in the middle of Independence, Missouri. Not in the good part, where you can be sure your meth was cooked in a clean bathtub, but in the other part. We get to the park, head over to the shelters, and there is a rather scruffy looking gentleman sitting there reading a book. No one pays him any mind, and he moves to another table to give us some privacy, so all in all if he is a wino he is a respectable one, and I almost thought of high fiving him. We get down to the art of setting up a party for a teenager, which included me doing nothing because I'm a man and a jerk. The boys head down to the water park portion of the park, and are dancing around and probably pissing themselves to utopia, and I notice one of the kids looks a lot older and is less playing around, more bathing. She is still dressed, but you can tell she is not a kid, as no parent I know would allow shorts that small on their kids.

WHatevs, she moseys up to the scruffy guy and they sit there, her looking at me every few minutes, with what I wrongly guessed was revulsion, as I was neither white nor Mexirican, like the other patrons there. The fact that I was making out with my wife and that other wino probably also got me the looks. I ignore her, and the rest of the guests show up. One of them knows her, and she asks him in a loud voice if he would introduce her to me. The realization of why she had been staring at me sets in, and cold, dank fear gripped the Stevester's tender testes...

You see, the fairer sex's default reaction to the Stevester is revulsion, annoyance, and in the case of my lovely wife, utter awe that jellyrolls can jiggle so voraciously. This has led to me either being completely oblivious to obvious attraction (my wife) or, in this case, at a loss for how to respond. I will tell you, I was prepared to fight someone, as racism is still alive and well and the sight of me dry humping my wife into submission is a battle cry for some of the more mulleted mustachio aficionados frequenting said borough... but I was not prepared for some crackhead lady trying to entice me by flashing her camel toe in her cutoff shorts and then crying loudly when I did not make sweet love to her... I am sure for some of the more attractive people who read this blog this is a normal thing, but I felt awful about it.

I mean, come on, I can't fault the lady's taste in men, or the come hither look she flashed me as she headed for the public shitter, or the sadness on her face as she came out after realizing I wasn't going to pound her in a filthy restroom... ok I was but I couldn't get away from everyone else! Ugh, even joking about that illicits images I would rather not see....

Anyway, more later, There are a few sexy updates on Smeagol, and I would appreciate it if you voted on the poll. My sister informed me that under NO CIRCUMSTANCES was I to let Smeagol know she was having a huge get together. I was allowed to let JJ know. Smeagol, for all intents and purposes, lives at my mom's house right now. Should I?

Friday, July 24, 2009



Much like a fine wine
underwear is meant to age
then worn inside out

Ah, gentle readers, it's been too long, like 2 lovers seperated by land, sea, and vicious STD's many things have tried to keep me from you, but like the erstwhile pedophile, I show up again, climbing through the open window of your psyche, ready to fill your ear-pussies with jisms of knowledge.

So updates... updates... well Smeagol's search for employment continues. JJ insists he is not living with them but EVERY time I call Smeagol is asleep on the couch in the living room, thonged up to the max, so seriously...

I recently spoke with a good friend of mine, Ricardo, who I worked with at Burger King, and thought I would share a story from our special time together... this being a slow news month (Smeagol is in his molting season, historically all of his arrests have occured closer to the end of summer and beginning of the fall) and all...

By far and away my favorite memory is the one with the BK Broiler where Ricardo put huge slabs of mayonnaise on it and the guy got it all over himself but thought it was the best sandwich ever (I told you about that, right?) But a second favorite story concerned the Mullet haired tow truck driver.

This guy comes stomping in there and slams a chicken sandwich onto the counter in front of me, right in front of the customers. I look at his questioningly, never stopping my retarded spiel taking the customer's order. He looks at me, tapping his foot angrilly for a minute, and as soon as I finish launches into a tirade about how crappy his sandwich is, how the lettuce must be a year old and the cheese isn't even melted and blah blah blah. All the while I am looking at the sandwich and it actually looks pretty good to me, man was I hungry too...mmmmmm....

Anyway, Ricardo was having a particularly challenging day, and had no patience for such tomfollery by this ruffian carpetbagger. As I remember the scene (my fellow BK alumni will undoubtedly correct me), Ricardo slapped the whopper he was making down on the counter and came out, rolling his sleeves up. The trucker guy, seeing this very red-faced, very angry fellah strolling toward him, decided perhaps the state of the mayonnaise and used condoms on the sandwich weren't bad enough to merit further action, and absconded with his mashed, now cold sandwich I had touched with my fingers that, as you will remember, had been massaging my junk only seconds before.


So last night I went to karate, and since we are going to spar with another school tomorrow morning, the majority of the class was spent sparrifying it up.

So I get up with my first opponent, which is a white belt -

Wait a second, let me explain real quick. Yes, I am a 3rd degree black belt, so TECHNICALLY this is not a very fair fight. THe reason I was sparring this gentleman, though, is because as my instructor takes every opportunity to inform new recruits, "Stevester is a gentle giant, and he has a ton of control and so you will be safest sparring with him. Also he is a fat asshole and he wears a tutu."

So anyway, my first opponent, whom I had sparred before, gets ready, and makes the request that I only kick him on his right side, as apparently I had cracked one of his ribs during some earlier sparring. This came about (and it was totally his fault, I swear) when he walked up behind me and I instinctively launched a - hold on, how would Karawte Man put this - "Kick that flew at supersonic speeds, like a German Panzer tank with a space shuttle taped to the top of it, hell bent on flying through wormhles in the space time continuum and shattering not only the sound barrier, but creating a powerful vortex from which no light can escape, the souls of consumed kittens crying in agony as they try desperately to avoid the unstobbable rebel force of such a deadly attack" - side kick that landed right in his ribs.

Anyway, sparring goes as usual, I completely eat up the other side of his ribs, and already feel like a heel, when I get my second sparring opportunity. This guy is a green belt, but hasnt sparred much. We line up, shake hands, start circling, me giving him tips as I launch test attacks to see how he responds, and then it's time. I do my famous Jean Claude Van DAMMETHATHURT kick, which is when I kick low to distract you and then kick high really fast. He completely falls for it, and thusly is ducking down and to the side when my foot is coming up. At full force. Toward his face. and my foot isn't padded.

Well I catch him mostly on the neck, and it runs up the side of his face, and I can feel his teeth digging into my foot as I look on, horrified, at what is ensuing. I back up, and look on as he stands there dazed for a few seconds, and begin apologizing profusely. He is all like "I'm not gonna lie, it hurt, but don't worry about it" later on, but all I can see is that his neck and face are turning red and then purple... Sheeeeiiiittt...

The funny thing? I have been taking martial arts for almost a decade, and have NEVER hurt anyone until this last week or two, when I have hurt 2 really cool guys. I am a doucher. What's sad, is I am only going 50%, and I STILL cannot manage to not maraude through other people like an unstoppable rebel force.

Now tomorrow I will have to annihilate someone or these guys will think I have it in for them.

More later

Monday, July 13, 2009

Et tu, Bruno?

Et tu, Bruno?

funkyzeit Bruno
Chili's? Yeah then I'll show up
lotsa cock there tho

So for the 2 other people who read this blog who did not go Friday, we enjoyed a hearty dinner at Chili's and the movie Bruno, and after the bad dreams and a little therapy watching the most hardcore straight porn (Golden Shower Girls with Bea Arthur, mmmmmm) I could find, I feel I can talk a little about it.

First of all, it's been too long since I had seen Max, Derka and Dez, and you know it's messed up whe I am the first one there. Seriously, I am well known as the last person to show up. The idea of eating at least 5000 calories worth of fried food dipped in ranch, though, gets my blood boiling. Or at least moving as fast as my quickly clogging arteries would let it.

Anyway, you didn't come here to listen to me tell you of my heroic but sadly failed efforts to hold what felt like beer farts in, you want to know about Bruno.

Let me put it this way: Imagine you are in a room. THere is nothing in the room but a chair. The room is completely devoid of color, stark white, except one wall, which is a huge screen. And on this screen are dicks. Lots and lots of dicks, some singing, some being stuffed unceremoniously into various assholes, some spining like a pinwheel. There is also a Korean guy with a champagne bottle in his ass, and a very strange contraption which SHOULD be an exercise bike, but is actually a human powered vibradildospear. If you read the preceding paragraph and your interest is piqued, then this film is for you. I personally found it to be hilarious, not quite Borat hilarious but funny nevertheless. Here is a quick rundown of my thoughts throughout said movie:

2:30 into the film - Man this guy is gay, but has excellent fashion sense. A velcro suit?! I would buy!

5:00 - Derka has some nice legs (platonically, of course) Maybe if I tried to run I would have nice legs too.

5:15 Would Des fall for the popcorn trick?

15:35 - I'm not sure I could drink from a champagne bottle sticking out of a Thai ladyboy's anus.

17:00 That is some kind of exercise machine! Oucheroo!

23:14 - I wonder if the guy sitting in the row in front of me would notice if I blew ass right now.

23:30 Nope!

41:15 - If there were lots of other naked chicks in this film, this lady who is much too tanned would not be hot. My masculinity, though, is desperate to push all thoughts of gayness away, so all my brain can come up with it "hole shit loggitdosetitties!" SHe had a sweet german looking eagle tattoo on her stomach, I wonder how that would look on my arm...?

1:03:10 If I worked at that hotel, I would just have stood there pointing and laughing. Mr Magorium?! LOL

1:24:30 - These two dudes making out in an MMA ring is the most disturbing thing I have seen since Salo. Nice...

You know, after the movie was over and everyone said their goodbyes, there was an awkwardness. I wondered if I was being over the top and the other 3 were wondering who had invited me and what the hell was wrong with me, or had someone smelled my PBR farts? I doubt it as no one was throwing up.

To Des - I in all honesty did not mean to pick you up like that, it was either that or fall on you as dexterity is not my strong point. My bad.

I did not follow through on my stated plan of copping a feel on everyone, which made me sad, but maybe it was for the best.

Anyway, on to other things, great times had by all, and I still plan to purchase said film...

Friday, July 10, 2009



Michael Jackson's dead
sadly it took the man's death
to like his music

So I brought in my Michael Jackson collection to listen to today, and maybe it's the nostalgia but I remember loving these tunes and they are still just as classy.

Anyway, back to the story I started yesterday before being so rudely interrupted...

Well with all the stuff I was doing, I needed to eat on a semi-daily basis. This did not bode well for Smeagol's living, which is basically to inhale the farts of others and let your raptor innards detach essential nutrientes from the inhaled flatulons. I don't know the science of it but really if you came here to get smarter you will be very disappointed.

Since the majority of my monies went to gasoline and clothes, it was generally held that Smeagol would ensure there were groceries int he house, since he, you know, worked a full time job. This almost never happened, resulting in my at one point weighing in at around 190 pounds, which is not a good weight for me.

Anyway, you know all of this already, so what is new about this story?

On this particular time, I watched in awe as Smeagol E. Raptor went on the prowl, the prowl for sustenance!

He informed me we were going out to dinner, which annoyed me because if you take the 50 bux it takes to go out to dinner and spend it at the grocery store, you can eat, you know, more than once. This logic was met with a grunt of annoyance, and off we went.

The prowl started off as so many other treks Smeagol went on, with him shifting his automatic transmission into neutral to coast down hills to save gas, then revving the engine at stoplights to intimidate the homeboys with his 1992 Pontiac Grand Am and taking off as fast as the poor v-6 would let him, the whole while saying over and over "Awww shit niggie"...

We get to Mystery's mom's job, and Smeagol pulls to an inconspicuous spot not only to catch her unawares but also because he saw a police officer driving around and wanted to avoid detection, incarceration, and one may assume, penetration...

Whatevs. Like a couple of detectives on a stakeout, we sit, Smeagol watching the door with increasing intensity, possibly using his heightened raptor senses to pick up heat signatures...

We finally see Mystery's mom mosey out, probably after a long, hard day at work (I think she works for the railroad), and Smeagol leaps into action...and tells Mystery to get her. Mystery, the whole time doing that little annoyed spittle spraying "pshshhshst, tsk duh" shit she does, awkwardly gets out of the car and ambles toward her mom, who, like a deer in the headlights, looks at her with full knowledge of what was about to happen, yet powerless to stop it.

She comes back with about 40 dollars, which I again bring up could be used to purchase gasoline for the car and ramen noodles or something until I get paid, and this is met with annoyed grunts from Smeagol and guffaws from Mystery, who I still don't think had any idea what we were talking about.

And so we're off, going to Ryan's to eat, and fuck it it's none of my business, I'd like to say I took a principled stand against such idiocy, but I was hungry and I didn't work that day, so I went.

During the meal, me getting less and less hungry from watching them eat, Smeagol asks how she managed to finagle (finagal? Finland?) cash out of her mom, to which Mystery replies, while I'm eating, "I'm leaking some kind of fluid and I need to go to the doctor>" I push my plate away and wonder if I could get a sharp knife and maybe rupture my eardrums as Smeagol looks at her like she is the dumbest human being on the planet.

"WHy didn't you tell me, you dumb bitch?" He tried to growl, but even angry, Smeagol sounds about as mean as a box full of kittens. Kittens that Greyskull hast already consumed the souls of.

"It's not a big deal, I will just tell them I'm homeless and they will see me for free," she replies, which is both funny and sad at the same time. Apparently her modus operandi is to wear clothes for days at a time and not bathe or bathe improperly in order to receive free medical care from the fine doctors at Truman Medical Center, the only place you can die whilst getting a physical (seriously, I went there to get one for football, and had to tell the doctor what to do. Have you ever told a dude to grab your balls and check for a hernia? Not cool), and had done it numerous times before.

That's it. I have no ending to this story. Smeagol took her, they assumed she was homeless, I hit on a Somalian chick (Muslim and Indian chicks are hot) and got nowhere, and life went on.

Anyway, I would like to end this post with a plea for help for that wily raptor. I know you all want a little more Smeagol in your life, and outside of Will (I seriously would not want to imagine Smeagol trying to go through basic training or being asked to lift a rifle) if any of you know of a job opening please pass it my way and I will see if I can get Smeags hirefied. If you want to tell me about other kinds of openings, please remember I am married, so be as graphic as humanly possible.

Thank you

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Smeagol, the man, the raptor, the Thong-Destroyer

Smeagol, the man, the raptor, the Thong-Destroyer

fork over the cash
gently touch the ass, female?
matters not, you're drunk

Plea for Helping Time

So I said I would get an update on Smeagol, and I did, but it is a most distressing one.

JJ informed me that that wiley raptor was desperately trying to get ahold of me, because he wanted me to "buy a couple things online, and tell him I'll pay him back when I get paid". Now we all know this means I will never see said money again, and past experience with a certain raptor also says since he knows he will only get away with this once per person that he must try to get me to spend as much as possible before he moves on to the next victim. I inform JJ that giving Smeagol my new phone number is tantamount to treason and would be dealt with quite harshly, and we both laugh and share a tender brotherly love.

JJ informs me that I made the right choice, as Smeagol has recently lost his job at both McDOnald's and at wherever else he was claiming to work on the same day. How they could deal with losing a high level manager is beyond me, but that is not the main gist of my posticle here. I need to find Smeagol a job, because although you may take from my many postings on him and the many ways he has failed and induced failure over the years, he is still family, and my heart is good, my prostate is weak, my bladder, full to bursting (thanks for asking).

What could Smeagol want me to purchase for him that he could not wait to get with his first paycheck from wherever he ends up going? Maybe a business suit to wow potential interviewers not only with his magnanimous customer service skills but also with his rapist wit and excellent dress habits? No, he wants another video game and some parts for a r/c car he will take 2 years to build. Seriously, and this leads me to an older Smeagol story that I must now share.

Twas early spring 1997, and I, beng a strapping lad of 16, was constantly on the go, what with school, football and work every night keeping me (thankfully) out of the house at all times.

Shit, didn't realize the day is almost over, will finish tomorrow.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009



Bring your Zinfandel
appletinis in the mix
leave your pants outside

So I am gearing up to go see Bruno with my peeps this week, and by gearing up I mean waxing my butthole to remove the hairs and oiling up my assless chaps.

Anyway, back to the story of my sexy time trip. The plan was, as it is a 13 hour drive down there, that we would leave at 1 in the morning and switch off in St. Louis, then in Nashville, giving me about 8 hours to drive, and my wife about 5. This did not happen. I ended up driving all the way to about 20 minutes south of Nashville, when she "remembered" the plan and we switched. Have you ever smelled your own balls or had yourself so compacted into a car that your asshole is pointed at your face, thus ensuring you get first dibs on your own flatuvapors the entire time, for 11 hours straight? No? Well it ain't nice.

Small political note in the middle of my semi-retarded rantings: what's all the hubbub about gay marriage? If you surf over to the Rude Pundit (and I suggest you do, it's a most excellent read), recently a bunch of moronic "tea parties" were held by mouth frothing, homophobic conservative douchebags. Not that I'm biased or anything. I recently had a discussion with a conservative friend, and Toboggan Boy's stance is "I don't want a bunch of gays getting married, then I'll have to pay for them!"

This from a man who answered "did you ever take a shot in the mouth for some crack?" with "Yerdaddy's done some foolish things..." I mean honestly. I don't really think he did but to be so cracked out of your mind at the time that you cannot definitively say you didn't is just as bad if not worse.

Real quick, then I will move on, here are the reasons I hear the most from my red state buddies and why they are stupid:

1. "It's against the Bible, which is the word of Gawd!" (said in Mr. Garrison's voice)

Debunk: You are retarded. Seriously though, "The word of the Lord" has been rewritten more often than I've sent photos of Jeremy out, and homosexuality in those times was a sign of stature and was not looked upon as wrong or bad (look it up), but even if they were what the hell does some dude wanting to violate the anus of another dude who isn't you any of your business?

2. "If those homos get married I'll have to pay for their benefits I am Benson Hunter!"

Debunk: So what? When you factor in that more than 50% of marriages end in divorce within the first 3 years, as well as the fact that marrying someone to allow them entrance into the United States is a common practice, what the fuck do you care? It's not like a couple of gay guys getting married are going to raise the amount of taxes you have to pay, but even if it did THEY PAY TAXES TOO, moron! Single homos are paying so you and your wife can receive checks long after you have outlived your usefulness, too. If this is your argument, gay people should not have to pay taxes, since they will obviously not benefit from them.

3. "They only turn gay to get on Hollywood TV" Look up a guy named RIchard Burgess. Youtube him. It's audio, it's NSFW, but well worth a listen. I KNOW people who have said the same things.

Debunk: Why in the name of fuck would you CHOOSE to be ostracized, beaten, cast out, made fun of, looked over for promotions, kicked out of the military and countless other insults to your person? And I don't care, if it was me, I could pretend to "go gay" right up until it came time to take another dude's cock in my hand/ mouth/ ass. Nope. If that is the case, that is one elaborate fucking scheme.

4. "Homos are ruining the American Family!" THis is the idea that 2 men or 2 women fucking somehow ruins the lives of "normal" God-Fearing Americans.

Debunk: There is no such thing as an American Family anymore. The picturesque families we all try to model ourselves after, the 1950's kind of "Leave it to Beaver" (LOL) family does not exist. Your average family now has no time to sit down to dinner together, as both parents work, the kids have homework and friends and videogames and internet pornography all vying for attentions that has to be shared with the parents, and with bills and the costs of basic services skyrocketing along with the death of the 8 hour workday NO ONE has a "Normal Family" anymore. Family time now entails a hurried microwave burrito and dry humping by the microwave while the wife puts on her makeup before going to work. Well no I try to do that every day even if we have the time but you get my point!

Sorry to go off like that, but listening to this huge non-issue, for that's what it should be, a non issue, when we have bigger things to worry about, like health care, the war in Iraqiranistan, running out of oil, and other forms of buttfuckery is starting to hurt my head. Seriously, unless 2 men are touching dicks over your Cheerios in the morning and pounding eachother on your lawn making you mow around them, who cares?

Anyway, back to my regularly scheduled program.

Why is Smeagol still at my mom's house? Seriously. He's almost 40 and spends his time either munching already pounded twat or avoiding his wife. If you don't care for someone why are you with them? I guess I can't complain too much though, he hasn't been to jail in a while.

More later...

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Back in the Saddle

Back in the Saddle

Chewbacca give pain!
hairy paw smashes your face

Sorry it's been awhile, I was on sexy time vacation. Rather than bore you with all the minute details (I saw someone taking a shit in a urinal, I saw a real live glory hole, I got pissed on and not by a child) I will delve into other subjects....that relate to my vacation.

As you may or may not know (or care), I went to a karatefying tournament in Dalton, GA. I was a little bit apprehensive about making the trip, what with my limited knowledge of the South and my corresponding belief that literally every human being South of Kansas City is either in the Ku Klux Klan or on the waiting list (strangely enough I am on the list, why won't they call me back?!), and that Deliverance is acted out on a daily basis.

But anyway, let's start from the sexy, sexy beginning. The plan for my week off was to do the following:

1. Drive to Omaha and visit the Omaha Zoo
2. Drive down to Dalton, GA stopping in St. Louis, Nashville, and for some reason (OK the reason is because I like saying the name) Paducah, KY (LOL).

In order to effect this, we decided to drive the entire way instead of flying, because we use our time wisely. I go to pick up the car, well secure in the knowledge that unlike previous instances, I had planned ahead and gotten the mid-sized car, which was a lovely Chevrolet Cobalt, and-

Chevy Cobalt? For those of you not in the know, I am a fat man. I am also a moderately tall man. This car is not for me. I see this car, which is not only not as long as my own car (Zing!) but also almost a foot shorter, and I feel the sad time. Apparently, sometime since the economy went down the shitter, I guess so too did the definition of midsize car go the way of the Lollipop Guild?!

Anyway, I get the car, and we are off to Omaha first, which was pretty schweet, I have some photos of Smeagol in his natural habitat that I will post later... of course since I am the man I ended up driving up there and back, but I didn't mind, except for the fact that I was scrunched up enough that I could tell the soap had missed a few places under my balls, because my face was in my own friggin pube thicket the whole time (visualize that while eating your lunch!)

So anyway, the zoo trip over (the best part was when we went into the swamp and my oldest was looking around in the gloom and an alligator was sitting in the water less than 5 feet away, those were great times), we go back and relax for a day, to get ready for the 14 hour drive to Georgia. And this is the meat of today's post.

I recently found out Netflix rents softcore porn. Now I know what you are thinking, and the answer is yes, I do rent a family movie every once in awhile just to liven things up. My favorite ones are these Italian ones which are comedies with porn in them, which seems right up my alley, since every time I take my pants down my wife starts laughing.

So I recently found a director who makes the majority of these films, and rented everything Netflix suggested. Big mistake.

I get the movie in the mail last week, the name of it is Salo. If you hear someone groan when they read that film title, they have heard of it. If they throw up and then run screaming from the room, they saw the first half. If they shit in a bowl and eat it, they were in the film.

Anyway, I figure since I need to get some sleep early, as I have to get up at 1 AM to start the drive, I will watch some of this film to see what it's all about. I pop that beeyotch in the dvd player and lay on the bed.

Beginning: So far, so good. The film is set in 1944 Italy, and is apparently about kidnapping attractive young men and women for what is apparently going to be forced orgies (this is actually said in the beginning of the film, I did not make this up). Although there were way too many hairy weiners, some of the chicks looked bangable. I'll keep watching but there is nothing funny about the movie so far.

0:35 - Ummmm.... so they are talking about how luscious it would be to anally violate this young man, and the way these old guys are literally licking their lips is kinda grossing me out. They take the group to a secluded compound, and elicit the only laughter I was able to muster the entire film, when they tell the group "You will never escape. You will die here. Orgies are to occur every morning at 9:00 precisely"... sounds like me on a date.

1:00 - So everyone in this film is completely nude except these old guys, who are strange but not too far out there. Apparently the movie centers around the orgy room, where everyone sits and listens to some nasty ass older ladies talk about all the depraved stuff they did, and then the older guys come in and act said acts out on the victims. It's getting progressively nastier, as the ladies are talking about peeing in people's mouths and this guy takes one of the girls in this back room and has her whiz on his face and in his mouth. I want to stop watching but cannot. What is happening to me?!

1:30 - The wife walks in just as the next lady is talking about one of her Johns wanting to lick her butthole out and then had her shit into a bowl, which he then ate. She was going into detail about eating a diet specifically designed to maximize poopage and the wife walks in and is like "What the fuck is this?!" Then she sits down and watches too, transfixed.

1:39 - THis is as far into the film as either of us got. At this point, after the story, a large tub was put in the main dining hall, and was filled to the brim with shit, piss and vag-i-blood, which everyone ate in excrutiating detail. Then one guy starts making out with another guy with a turd in his mouth and I just threw up in my mouth. Tastes like Doritos and failure.

I sent the movie back and took the rest of them out of my queue, replacing them all with SPace Chimps and various Arnold Schwarzenegger movies. I have been scarred for life. The saddest part is I want to know how it ends, but cannot watch it long enough to see how it does. Please if one of you watches it, tell me how it ended. I will buy the movie for you...

Anyway, more sometime this week, including more Smeagol madness!