http://tinyurl.com/2o2lvr
You can also watch this video at the bottom of this page, just scroll all the way down.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
The gayest of them all...
O-genki desu ka?
Watashi wa huge cock desu!
Doozo yoroshiku!
I am learning Japanese, pretty much only to say the above haiku and to give my drawings of ligers super cool Japanese names. I'm probably the best artist I know...
Anyhoo, when I worked security (for Mr. Eddie Murphy), life was dull unless you went outside to watch the bums, who seemed to live only to entertain those higher up on the social ladder. There was Iceman, who would throw food in the trash, pick it out and eat it, there was Roy Garret, who would allow multiple men (and men only) to run the length of his Hershey highway every night, there was James, the homeless man who wore a tube top and cutoff shorts and walked in heels, and would also enjoy the feel of a hardened cock every now and again, even showering in the little fountain in the park (like sadly a lot of those bums did) with many a dude sitting in the benches watching, and I would assume thinking about joining.
There was the bum who waited out in the freezing cold because he saw a bunch of change in my car, and I took the change out and threw it in the gutter and peeled out, throwing snow and slush all over him while he tried to get the coins out of the gutter, there was the many times during the summer when the bums would build a fort out of cardboard boxes, blankets and failure, hook a little black and white television up to one of the plugins in the park and watch Jerry Springer while they did eachother's hair, and the time some cracked out hooker went in the ittle alley behind the park and let the homeless guys run a train on her. Good times.
I have to say, though, that out of all them Mr. Klamm was the gayest one of them all, and I was never sure he was a bona fide bum. Mr. Klamm was in the Marines, was apparently incredibly strong though he was only about 5'3, and was as gay as the year is long. He had been banned from the Town Pavilion for attempting to rape a man in the men's restroom up in the food court, and got his rocks off by calling us and asking if he was allowed back into the building, to which we were always supposed to answer no. I know I have told this story before, but I was reminiscing today about those less fortunate and how much smaller the "less fortunate" than the Stevester group was getting. I was also thinking about other encounters with the homeless that are funny.
When we (meaning the brown belts from my dojo) were going to test for black belt, we had stopped in some shithole town between here and Joplin, of which there are many, in order to purchase gas and snacks. While my instructor was filling up, some bum moseyed over and started telling his gay ass sob story about how he only needed 5 or 6 dollars to buy a house and blah blah blahtsky. My instructor, who is for all intents and purposes much too nice, gave the loser 6 bucks, which he promptly took into the store and purchased alcohol with, much as I expected.
The instructor's son, who was not as nice, and also a 4th degree black belt, informed the bum that though his dad was nice, he was not, and took the bottle from the loser and poured it out on the ground, throwing it away in the process. The downtrodden loser looked forlornly at his pissed away liquor, then at the 9 black belts standing within 5 feet of him, and thought better of it, sulking away to scam someone else.
On our way home from our test, Thad, our thinnest black belt, informed us that he needed to make pee pee. Since we were int he middle of nowhere, my instructor pulled off the highway and drove a ways down a gravel road by a field so he could go. Instead of getting out and going right by the van, he walked maybe 20 yards into this freshly tilled field and started pissing right in the middle of it.
Whilst this was going on the farmer who owned the field was seen watching from his barn, which is pretty gay in itself because from his vantage point he would have been able to see Thad's Johnson. Anyway, he comes running out from behind his barn, yelling obscenities and carrying a baseball bat with him, not knowing what kind of mess he was potentially walking into. We begged our instructor to stop the van so he could catch up, and he drove slowly enough the farmer could almost keep up for about 50 yards, but Old McDonald gave up.
I have no clue what the main gist of this post is, I like rambling on though. Let's take a different path tomorrow, shall we?
Watashi wa huge cock desu!
Doozo yoroshiku!
I am learning Japanese, pretty much only to say the above haiku and to give my drawings of ligers super cool Japanese names. I'm probably the best artist I know...
Anyhoo, when I worked security (for Mr. Eddie Murphy), life was dull unless you went outside to watch the bums, who seemed to live only to entertain those higher up on the social ladder. There was Iceman, who would throw food in the trash, pick it out and eat it, there was Roy Garret, who would allow multiple men (and men only) to run the length of his Hershey highway every night, there was James, the homeless man who wore a tube top and cutoff shorts and walked in heels, and would also enjoy the feel of a hardened cock every now and again, even showering in the little fountain in the park (like sadly a lot of those bums did) with many a dude sitting in the benches watching, and I would assume thinking about joining.
There was the bum who waited out in the freezing cold because he saw a bunch of change in my car, and I took the change out and threw it in the gutter and peeled out, throwing snow and slush all over him while he tried to get the coins out of the gutter, there was the many times during the summer when the bums would build a fort out of cardboard boxes, blankets and failure, hook a little black and white television up to one of the plugins in the park and watch Jerry Springer while they did eachother's hair, and the time some cracked out hooker went in the ittle alley behind the park and let the homeless guys run a train on her. Good times.
I have to say, though, that out of all them Mr. Klamm was the gayest one of them all, and I was never sure he was a bona fide bum. Mr. Klamm was in the Marines, was apparently incredibly strong though he was only about 5'3, and was as gay as the year is long. He had been banned from the Town Pavilion for attempting to rape a man in the men's restroom up in the food court, and got his rocks off by calling us and asking if he was allowed back into the building, to which we were always supposed to answer no. I know I have told this story before, but I was reminiscing today about those less fortunate and how much smaller the "less fortunate" than the Stevester group was getting. I was also thinking about other encounters with the homeless that are funny.
When we (meaning the brown belts from my dojo) were going to test for black belt, we had stopped in some shithole town between here and Joplin, of which there are many, in order to purchase gas and snacks. While my instructor was filling up, some bum moseyed over and started telling his gay ass sob story about how he only needed 5 or 6 dollars to buy a house and blah blah blahtsky. My instructor, who is for all intents and purposes much too nice, gave the loser 6 bucks, which he promptly took into the store and purchased alcohol with, much as I expected.
The instructor's son, who was not as nice, and also a 4th degree black belt, informed the bum that though his dad was nice, he was not, and took the bottle from the loser and poured it out on the ground, throwing it away in the process. The downtrodden loser looked forlornly at his pissed away liquor, then at the 9 black belts standing within 5 feet of him, and thought better of it, sulking away to scam someone else.
On our way home from our test, Thad, our thinnest black belt, informed us that he needed to make pee pee. Since we were int he middle of nowhere, my instructor pulled off the highway and drove a ways down a gravel road by a field so he could go. Instead of getting out and going right by the van, he walked maybe 20 yards into this freshly tilled field and started pissing right in the middle of it.
Whilst this was going on the farmer who owned the field was seen watching from his barn, which is pretty gay in itself because from his vantage point he would have been able to see Thad's Johnson. Anyway, he comes running out from behind his barn, yelling obscenities and carrying a baseball bat with him, not knowing what kind of mess he was potentially walking into. We begged our instructor to stop the van so he could catch up, and he drove slowly enough the farmer could almost keep up for about 50 yards, but Old McDonald gave up.
I have no clue what the main gist of this post is, I like rambling on though. Let's take a different path tomorrow, shall we?
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Lilian Ray II
Crackpipe's siren call
it never goes unnoticed
and never denied
Re: *kiss* With love
From: Lilian Ray (candysweetlilianray@yahoo.com)
Sent: Fri 11/30/07 5:12 PM
To: philip_mckraken@hotmail.com
Hello My Dearest Phil McKraken,
How are you? Thanks once again, I am more than happy in your sweet and encouraging reply to my mail. It was so sweet of you and I feel you're a very nice person. How is your day? mine is cool over here in Dakar Senegal . My name is Miss Lilian Ray from Cote d'ivoire in West Africa and presently, I am residing in the refugee camp here in Dakar Senegal, as a result of the civil war going on in my country. I was a first year student of law at the university, before the incident that lead me into this situation of living in the camp. My late father Dr. Benson Ray was the Managing Director of Rainbow Gold and Diamond Mine company, also a successful business man import and exporter of Cocoa during his life time, before the rebels attacked my house one early morning killing my mother and my father. Equally my mother was a senior lecturer at the university before her death, it was only me that is alive now because I was the only child to my parents, and I managed to make my way to near by country Senegal, where I am leaving now.
Remeber the distance or colour or even age not matter but love matters alot in life. Am a very simple honest, respectful sincere and romantic. I want people to take the better part of me all time and feel happy. I have long hair with a nice shape, I don't like dishonest people and I don't like problems I would like to know more about you. Your likes and dislikes, your hobbies and what you are doing presently. My dear good friend I attach here my pictures for you, though I am not all that photogenic, I hope you wouldn't mind. I will tell you more about myself in my next mail. I don't want to end up missing you.Meanwhile Are you open and ready to start this very relationship with me?
kiss From my deepest heart.Thanks I am hoping to hear from you soonest,
Miss Lilian Ray.
Please remember this is a scammer, a free t-shirt to the person who can tell me who this is a photo of, I am thinking a singer or model from Dakar Senegal...
RE: *kiss* With love
From: Philip McKraken (philip_mckraken@hotmail.com)
Sent: Sat 12/01/07 10:59 AM
To: Lilian Ray (candysweetlilianray@yahoo.com)
My Dearest Lilian,
You are incredibly beautiful, and must be one of Dakar Senegal's most precious resources. I will get a picture of myself and send it along today. You are very photogenic, and I wish I could bring you to America to be mine. I am very open to start this relationship with you, and would like to get to know you on a more personal level.
Take care of yourself, you are worth taking care of
Phil McKraken
Sadly, this is more romantic than anything I ever said to my wife (ask her, she does not mind telling you)... but I wanted this relationship to go on for awhile, so I figured I would start slow and build up to the insanity.
RE: *kiss* With love Phil McKraken
From: Lilian Ray (candysweetlilianray@yahoo.com)
Sent: Sat 12/01/07 8:30 PM
To: Philip McKraken (philip_mckraken@hotmail.com)
Hello My Dearest Phil McKraken,
How was your day and how was your work hope fine, I am very happy in your reply to my mail. Mine is a little bit hot over here in Dakar Senegal. I am 23 years of age living in this situation In this refugee camp we are only allowed to go out only on Monday's and Saturdays of the week. Its just like one staying in the prison and I hope by God grace I will come out here soon and be with you in America.
I don't have any relatives now whom I can go to all my relatives ran away in the middle of the war the only person I have now is Reverend. John Paul, who is the Parish Priest of (Christ the king Church) here in the refugee. He has been very nice to me since I came here but I am not living with him rather I am leaving in the women's hostel because the camp have two hostels one for men the other for women.
The Reverend Tel number is (00221-772-418-111) if you call and tell him that you want to speak with me he will send for me in the hostel. here is where am send you email at church office and send mail to you in his office church. As a refugee here I don't have any right or privilege to any thing be it money or whatever because it is against the law of this country. I want to go back to my studies because I only attended my first year before the tragic incident that lead to my being in this situation now took place.
Please listen Phil to this I have my late father's statement of account and death certificate here with me which I will send to you latter, because when he was alive he deposited some amount of money in a Bank which he used my name as the next of kin, the amount in question is $5.9M ( Five Million Nine Hundred Thousand Dollars). So I will like you to help me transfer this money to your account and from it you can send some money for me to get my traveling documents and air ticket to come over to meet with you. I kept this secret to people in the camp here the only person that knows about it is the Reverend because he is like a father to me.
Phil in light above I will like you to keep it to yourself and don't tell it to anyone for I am afraid of loosing my life and the money if people gets to know about it. Remember I am giving you all this information due to the trust I deposed on you. I like honest and understanding people, truth and hardworking man of vision. My favorite language is English and I speak English very fluently. Meanwhile I will like you to call me like I said, from 12.30noon to 4.30pm(12.30GMT-16.30GMT), I have alot to tell you.
Furthermore, you can contact the Bank for confirmation and I will issue a letter of authorization on your name, that will enable the bank to work with you on my behalf. I am giving you this offers as mentioned with every confidence on your acceptance to assist me or take me as your wife and manage the money. Conclusively, I wish you send me a reply immediately as soon as you receive this letter. Until then, I remain with the best regards, Have a nice day and think about me.Awaiting to hear from you soonest.
Yours forever,
Miss Lilian Ray.
Awww how sweet.... *sniff*
RE: *kiss* With love Phil McKraken
From: Philip McKraken (philip_mckraken@hotmail.com)
Sent: Sun 12/02/07 9:41 PM
To: Lilian Ray (candysweetlilianray@yahoo.com)
Dearest Lilian,
I love the photos you send to me, they warm my heart and also other parts of my body. I want to be with you, Lilian. I am already making plans to get rid of my current room mate, Hot Karl, who has been stealing my thongs and KY jelly and leaving some rather noticeable stains on the bed and the couch even when I'm not there, so I suspect he is doing something especially since our gerbils have started coming up missing, which would be normal but they are disappearing even when I'm not there to help with the act.
Tell me who I must contact, Lilian, and promise yourself to me. I want to kiss you all over your beautiful body, down the small of your back, gently cradling every part and admiring it's beauty as I enjoy you as I hope you will enjoy me. I want to make sweet love to you, Lilian. Please tell me you feel the same, and what you want me to do to you or with you. Unlike before, Hot Karl is not invited, with his macarena dance of love and his hairy chicken McNuggets dangling in my face like last time, taunting me.
I enclosed my picture that I plan on putting in my new book, 'Penetrate Your Anger!' See, Lilian, I am also an accomplished author, I have written for such literary journals as the NAMBLA News, Neverland Ranch Weekly and Penna Tratemy Chronicles, and I can make life very comfortable for you. I have almost 3 million dollars here, we do not need your father's money Lilian. I am rich. Come to me, make love to me.
Yours,
Phil McKraken
Don't ask. I would rather not divulge what I searched for to attain this particular photo.
More tomorrow.
it never goes unnoticed
and never denied
Lilian Ray
Re: *kiss* With love
From: Lilian Ray (candysweetlilianray@yahoo.com)
Sent: Fri 11/30/07 5:12 PM
To: philip_mckraken@hotmail.com
Hello My Dearest Phil McKraken,
How are you? Thanks once again, I am more than happy in your sweet and encouraging reply to my mail. It was so sweet of you and I feel you're a very nice person. How is your day? mine is cool over here in Dakar Senegal . My name is Miss Lilian Ray from Cote d'ivoire in West Africa and presently, I am residing in the refugee camp here in Dakar Senegal, as a result of the civil war going on in my country. I was a first year student of law at the university, before the incident that lead me into this situation of living in the camp. My late father Dr. Benson Ray was the Managing Director of Rainbow Gold and Diamond Mine company, also a successful business man import and exporter of Cocoa during his life time, before the rebels attacked my house one early morning killing my mother and my father. Equally my mother was a senior lecturer at the university before her death, it was only me that is alive now because I was the only child to my parents, and I managed to make my way to near by country Senegal, where I am leaving now.
Remeber the distance or colour or even age not matter but love matters alot in life. Am a very simple honest, respectful sincere and romantic. I want people to take the better part of me all time and feel happy. I have long hair with a nice shape, I don't like dishonest people and I don't like problems I would like to know more about you. Your likes and dislikes, your hobbies and what you are doing presently. My dear good friend I attach here my pictures for you, though I am not all that photogenic, I hope you wouldn't mind. I will tell you more about myself in my next mail. I don't want to end up missing you.Meanwhile Are you open and ready to start this very relationship with me?
kiss From my deepest heart.Thanks I am hoping to hear from you soonest,
Miss Lilian Ray.
Please remember this is a scammer, a free t-shirt to the person who can tell me who this is a photo of, I am thinking a singer or model from Dakar Senegal...
RE: *kiss* With love
From: Philip McKraken (philip_mckraken@hotmail.com)
Sent: Sat 12/01/07 10:59 AM
To: Lilian Ray (candysweetlilianray@yahoo.com)
My Dearest Lilian,
You are incredibly beautiful, and must be one of Dakar Senegal's most precious resources. I will get a picture of myself and send it along today. You are very photogenic, and I wish I could bring you to America to be mine. I am very open to start this relationship with you, and would like to get to know you on a more personal level.
Take care of yourself, you are worth taking care of
Phil McKraken
Sadly, this is more romantic than anything I ever said to my wife (ask her, she does not mind telling you)... but I wanted this relationship to go on for awhile, so I figured I would start slow and build up to the insanity.
RE: *kiss* With love Phil McKraken
From: Lilian Ray (candysweetlilianray@yahoo.com)
Sent: Sat 12/01/07 8:30 PM
To: Philip McKraken (philip_mckraken@hotmail.com)
Hello My Dearest Phil McKraken,
How was your day and how was your work hope fine, I am very happy in your reply to my mail. Mine is a little bit hot over here in Dakar Senegal. I am 23 years of age living in this situation In this refugee camp we are only allowed to go out only on Monday's and Saturdays of the week. Its just like one staying in the prison and I hope by God grace I will come out here soon and be with you in America.
I don't have any relatives now whom I can go to all my relatives ran away in the middle of the war the only person I have now is Reverend. John Paul, who is the Parish Priest of (Christ the king Church) here in the refugee. He has been very nice to me since I came here but I am not living with him rather I am leaving in the women's hostel because the camp have two hostels one for men the other for women.
The Reverend Tel number is (00221-772-418-111) if you call and tell him that you want to speak with me he will send for me in the hostel. here is where am send you email at church office and send mail to you in his office church. As a refugee here I don't have any right or privilege to any thing be it money or whatever because it is against the law of this country. I want to go back to my studies because I only attended my first year before the tragic incident that lead to my being in this situation now took place.
Please listen Phil to this I have my late father's statement of account and death certificate here with me which I will send to you latter, because when he was alive he deposited some amount of money in a Bank which he used my name as the next of kin, the amount in question is $5.9M ( Five Million Nine Hundred Thousand Dollars). So I will like you to help me transfer this money to your account and from it you can send some money for me to get my traveling documents and air ticket to come over to meet with you. I kept this secret to people in the camp here the only person that knows about it is the Reverend because he is like a father to me.
Phil in light above I will like you to keep it to yourself and don't tell it to anyone for I am afraid of loosing my life and the money if people gets to know about it. Remember I am giving you all this information due to the trust I deposed on you. I like honest and understanding people, truth and hardworking man of vision. My favorite language is English and I speak English very fluently. Meanwhile I will like you to call me like I said, from 12.30noon to 4.30pm(12.30GMT-16.30GMT), I have alot to tell you.
Furthermore, you can contact the Bank for confirmation and I will issue a letter of authorization on your name, that will enable the bank to work with you on my behalf. I am giving you this offers as mentioned with every confidence on your acceptance to assist me or take me as your wife and manage the money. Conclusively, I wish you send me a reply immediately as soon as you receive this letter. Until then, I remain with the best regards, Have a nice day and think about me.Awaiting to hear from you soonest.
Yours forever,
Miss Lilian Ray.
Awww how sweet.... *sniff*
RE: *kiss* With love Phil McKraken
From: Philip McKraken (philip_mckraken@hotmail.com)
Sent: Sun 12/02/07 9:41 PM
To: Lilian Ray (candysweetlilianray@yahoo.com)
Dearest Lilian,
I love the photos you send to me, they warm my heart and also other parts of my body. I want to be with you, Lilian. I am already making plans to get rid of my current room mate, Hot Karl, who has been stealing my thongs and KY jelly and leaving some rather noticeable stains on the bed and the couch even when I'm not there, so I suspect he is doing something especially since our gerbils have started coming up missing, which would be normal but they are disappearing even when I'm not there to help with the act.
Tell me who I must contact, Lilian, and promise yourself to me. I want to kiss you all over your beautiful body, down the small of your back, gently cradling every part and admiring it's beauty as I enjoy you as I hope you will enjoy me. I want to make sweet love to you, Lilian. Please tell me you feel the same, and what you want me to do to you or with you. Unlike before, Hot Karl is not invited, with his macarena dance of love and his hairy chicken McNuggets dangling in my face like last time, taunting me.
I enclosed my picture that I plan on putting in my new book, 'Penetrate Your Anger!' See, Lilian, I am also an accomplished author, I have written for such literary journals as the NAMBLA News, Neverland Ranch Weekly and Penna Tratemy Chronicles, and I can make life very comfortable for you. I have almost 3 million dollars here, we do not need your father's money Lilian. I am rich. Come to me, make love to me.
Yours,
Phil McKraken
Don't ask. I would rather not divulge what I searched for to attain this particular photo.
More tomorrow.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Question...
Beneath the steel sky
tired feet crunch in unison
You're now of the hoard
Lessons?
Why is it that some lessons learned as youngsters are kept as we get older, yet others are thrown away? Who decides which lessons are to be kept and which become taboo? I study, you learn. Jinqui.
Lesson 1- Penis
When I was a young lad of 4, I took my pants down and showed the other children what it was that made me better than them. For that I got hit on the naked ass with a rose stem. When I was 6 I decided the classroom needed to see lil' Stevester, for that I got the yardstick by the teacher and the broomstick from my mother when I got home. The lesson we should have learned here is that showing your penis leads to bad things, right?
When I was 18 I showed a young lady my penis, and we have now been together for almost 9 years. WTF?! My whole world is being turned topsy turvy! Maybe showing my penis to people is a good thing, something the evil adults never wanted me to know. How do I know that when I go for a bank loan, flashing Ol' Pinkeye will not get the loan approved? How do I know the conversation would not go something like:
Bank official: "Well Stevester you have shitty credit, which is par for the course for you negros Hmmeah hmeahh!'- we share a good natured laugh at this point-', you have no collateral, you're holding tickets to Mexico and you shit on the reception area coffee table. There's no way I would let you borrow a quarter for the vending machine, much less 200000 dollaruskies. (waves hands in magical way) Begone, negro!"
Me: (unzipping pantaloons) "Perhaps this' flashes thick and chunky bald head monkey' will change your mind?"
Bank official (astounded and mesmerized): "Oh my God, the North American Purple-headed beaver basher! I thought it was just a myth! Yes, yes you can have the loan, just please leave that Pink Silver Dollar roll out so that I may bask in it's glory!"
How do I know that showing the police a well polished skin kazoo will not get me out of a ticket? No one knows because you don't friggin' do it! Well screw that! I am going to let my kids show themselves off. I am going to smile proudly as my kid plays pocket pool all the time in public, how do we know he will not flash his way into the presidency? Palm that cock!
By the way the results when I showed my lovely wife Mr. Jenkins were not typical. I have probably shown myself to every person I know (if you have not seen it remind me and I will be glad to initiate you into the club) and the responses have varied from "Well that's a strange response to 'is your Mommy home'" to "Stevester stop it we have company!"
Lesson 2- Shit
When I was 3 and I took a shit my mom and dad would run into the bathroom and shower me with praise and snacks, wipe my ass for me and sing songs and hold hands in gentle harmony. Why is it that now when I try to show off my super chunky brown butter no one wants to see it, and everyone reels back in disgust, saying things like "Ugh put that back in the toilet!" to "Stevester close the damn door we have company!" When did it become wrong to take pride in my dookies? What is wrong with the world today?
Lesson 3- Strangers
When I was young I was told not to talk to strangers, that they were dangerous and should be avoided. Later in like I spoke to a stranger and she allowed me to penetrate 2 of her 3 holes and bought me lunch in school the next day. Smeagol does not talk to strangers and hit on his cousin. Why is that... well no that's fucking disgusting, moving on...
Lesson 4- Food
When we are young we are told to clean our plates or it is 5 across the eyes you little bastard! Yet now I clean my plate and my son's too when he looks the other way and I'm a "total jerk who just made the kids go hungry again". First off whatever happened to "survival of the fittest"? secondly why did I not get a reward for not only eating my din-din but for taking care of someone else's?
More lessons later...
tired feet crunch in unison
You're now of the hoard
Lessons?
Why is it that some lessons learned as youngsters are kept as we get older, yet others are thrown away? Who decides which lessons are to be kept and which become taboo? I study, you learn. Jinqui.
Lesson 1- Penis
When I was a young lad of 4, I took my pants down and showed the other children what it was that made me better than them. For that I got hit on the naked ass with a rose stem. When I was 6 I decided the classroom needed to see lil' Stevester, for that I got the yardstick by the teacher and the broomstick from my mother when I got home. The lesson we should have learned here is that showing your penis leads to bad things, right?
When I was 18 I showed a young lady my penis, and we have now been together for almost 9 years. WTF?! My whole world is being turned topsy turvy! Maybe showing my penis to people is a good thing, something the evil adults never wanted me to know. How do I know that when I go for a bank loan, flashing Ol' Pinkeye will not get the loan approved? How do I know the conversation would not go something like:
Bank official: "Well Stevester you have shitty credit, which is par for the course for you negros Hmmeah hmeahh!'- we share a good natured laugh at this point-', you have no collateral, you're holding tickets to Mexico and you shit on the reception area coffee table. There's no way I would let you borrow a quarter for the vending machine, much less 200000 dollaruskies. (waves hands in magical way) Begone, negro!"
Me: (unzipping pantaloons) "Perhaps this' flashes thick and chunky bald head monkey' will change your mind?"
Bank official (astounded and mesmerized): "Oh my God, the North American Purple-headed beaver basher! I thought it was just a myth! Yes, yes you can have the loan, just please leave that Pink Silver Dollar roll out so that I may bask in it's glory!"
How do I know that showing the police a well polished skin kazoo will not get me out of a ticket? No one knows because you don't friggin' do it! Well screw that! I am going to let my kids show themselves off. I am going to smile proudly as my kid plays pocket pool all the time in public, how do we know he will not flash his way into the presidency? Palm that cock!
By the way the results when I showed my lovely wife Mr. Jenkins were not typical. I have probably shown myself to every person I know (if you have not seen it remind me and I will be glad to initiate you into the club) and the responses have varied from "Well that's a strange response to 'is your Mommy home'" to "Stevester stop it we have company!"
Lesson 2- Shit
When I was 3 and I took a shit my mom and dad would run into the bathroom and shower me with praise and snacks, wipe my ass for me and sing songs and hold hands in gentle harmony. Why is it that now when I try to show off my super chunky brown butter no one wants to see it, and everyone reels back in disgust, saying things like "Ugh put that back in the toilet!" to "Stevester close the damn door we have company!" When did it become wrong to take pride in my dookies? What is wrong with the world today?
Lesson 3- Strangers
When I was young I was told not to talk to strangers, that they were dangerous and should be avoided. Later in like I spoke to a stranger and she allowed me to penetrate 2 of her 3 holes and bought me lunch in school the next day. Smeagol does not talk to strangers and hit on his cousin. Why is that... well no that's fucking disgusting, moving on...
Lesson 4- Food
When we are young we are told to clean our plates or it is 5 across the eyes you little bastard! Yet now I clean my plate and my son's too when he looks the other way and I'm a "total jerk who just made the kids go hungry again". First off whatever happened to "survival of the fittest"? secondly why did I not get a reward for not only eating my din-din but for taking care of someone else's?
More lessons later...
Monday, January 28, 2008
I gotsta know...
Alright so I was at Walmart Saturday, doing the grocery shopping like a good home bitch, and I saw some loofah looking body scrub brushes, they looked like sponges and loofahs mixed together. I bought one and some body wash (old spice to be manlier), and I used it today after my workout. It was exhilarating, my skin felt renewed and exfoliated, I danced with glee as the silly suds caressed my nasty looking body, washing the sweat that had congealed and now looked like mayonnaise out of every silly crevasse (OK I am just trying to be gross here, my bad). I need to know, you all, if a man using a loofah in a public shower where other men would be washing is gay. I need to know before Thursday's basketball game, to avoid embarrassment. I now call upon the counsel of readers to assist me in this. Please vote on the emergency poll to the left, it will expire at 1030 Thursday Morning...
Godspeed all... Godspeed.
Godspeed all... Godspeed.
Stuff that Annoys me, part 58973409 of 898349280843
Apocalyptic
stark buildings contrast grey sky
The robots have won
Annoying Stuff
1. When I go through all the trouble to toilet shop (see definitions for explanation), and some asshole comes into the crapper right after me and takes the stall right next to mine, like we are in a competition or something. Look asshole, I am trying to play my gameboy micro and relax a bit, maybe take the stall 2 down. It's really annoying on the 4th floor here, as there are 7 stalls and they usually STILL take the stall next to mine, and I ALWAYS take the stall the furthest from the door.
2. When I am driving and someone speeds up to make sure I do not get in front of them, then get off at the next exit by cutting me off. I so wish one of these days I could just follow them to where they are going and beat the living shit out of them and then shit on their face while teabagging them.
3. When I take all the trouble to show up for work at the crack of 8:23, and you call at 8:24 because you saw me walking by. Fuck you, you!
4. When we are at an all you can eat buffet and you stand right in front of the food and shoot the shit with someone else, completely oblivious to anyone else trying to get around your rotund ass to get to the food. Why are you even by the salad bar anyway fatso?
5. When it is early morning and you look at, smile at or accidentally touch me. Fuck you, die. Kids too.
6. When you are a kid and you attempt to interact with me.
7. When you are eating 2 slices of pizza one on top of the other with some ham and cheese inside and you are eating so fast the pizza flies out of your mouth and all over my fucking arm because I am sitting in a 3 foot vicinity. He was only eating 2 slices of pizza, I added the ham and cheese because really, he might as well have done that.
8. When I am trying to sleep and you call and ask me if I was asleep when you know goddamn well I was. Eat fuck.
9. When I show you a karate move and you try to take my head off while I am teaching you in order to impress me. Look I can kick the shit out of you and then where would you be? Laying in a hospital bed, drinking your food through a tube inserted into your ass, still doing the move wrong.
10. When you ask me to hold my arm out so you can take blood and dry hump my clenched fist and act like nothing happened. Why do my fingers smell like tasty fish then? Why can I not stop licking them?
11. Talking to me while I am dropping a deuce (Unless I called you, then it's hilarious)... I am trying to concentrate, asshat!
I would make a list of things that make me happy, but that's gay. Plus, and I may be the only one here like this, but being angry makes me happy, kind of like Ren in that episode of Ren and Stimpy when Stimpy put the happiness helmet on him. I miss that cartoon, just like I miss Tom and Jerry before they started talking... Sniff....
Anyway, how about those Chiefs?
stark buildings contrast grey sky
The robots have won
Annoying Stuff
1. When I go through all the trouble to toilet shop (see definitions for explanation), and some asshole comes into the crapper right after me and takes the stall right next to mine, like we are in a competition or something. Look asshole, I am trying to play my gameboy micro and relax a bit, maybe take the stall 2 down. It's really annoying on the 4th floor here, as there are 7 stalls and they usually STILL take the stall next to mine, and I ALWAYS take the stall the furthest from the door.
2. When I am driving and someone speeds up to make sure I do not get in front of them, then get off at the next exit by cutting me off. I so wish one of these days I could just follow them to where they are going and beat the living shit out of them and then shit on their face while teabagging them.
3. When I take all the trouble to show up for work at the crack of 8:23, and you call at 8:24 because you saw me walking by. Fuck you, you!
4. When we are at an all you can eat buffet and you stand right in front of the food and shoot the shit with someone else, completely oblivious to anyone else trying to get around your rotund ass to get to the food. Why are you even by the salad bar anyway fatso?
5. When it is early morning and you look at, smile at or accidentally touch me. Fuck you, die. Kids too.
6. When you are a kid and you attempt to interact with me.
7. When you are eating 2 slices of pizza one on top of the other with some ham and cheese inside and you are eating so fast the pizza flies out of your mouth and all over my fucking arm because I am sitting in a 3 foot vicinity. He was only eating 2 slices of pizza, I added the ham and cheese because really, he might as well have done that.
8. When I am trying to sleep and you call and ask me if I was asleep when you know goddamn well I was. Eat fuck.
9. When I show you a karate move and you try to take my head off while I am teaching you in order to impress me. Look I can kick the shit out of you and then where would you be? Laying in a hospital bed, drinking your food through a tube inserted into your ass, still doing the move wrong.
10. When you ask me to hold my arm out so you can take blood and dry hump my clenched fist and act like nothing happened. Why do my fingers smell like tasty fish then? Why can I not stop licking them?
11. Talking to me while I am dropping a deuce (Unless I called you, then it's hilarious)... I am trying to concentrate, asshat!
I would make a list of things that make me happy, but that's gay. Plus, and I may be the only one here like this, but being angry makes me happy, kind of like Ren in that episode of Ren and Stimpy when Stimpy put the happiness helmet on him. I miss that cartoon, just like I miss Tom and Jerry before they started talking... Sniff....
Anyway, how about those Chiefs?
Friday, January 25, 2008
Short one Today...
I'll bite your torso
and give you a bad disease!
Linoleum Knife!
Poll of the Century
Listen ya'll. We are about to make history here. Like KGP (Kyle Gass Project) and Wesley Willis, there comes a time when a man learns how to play 7 chords on a guitar, and starts a band instead of practicing said chords.
That time is now.
Let me start earlier than that. I played cello for 9 years. I know, I know, "Stevester 9 years?! You must be Nell Carter's son!" Anyway, I decided to build on that success by rocking out on Guitar Hero. I just beat Rock the 80's on Hard mode. I know, I was psyched too. After that, I felt dead inside. I beat the other 2 Guitar Heros I had on Medium and started working on Hard Mode, but the tickly feeling in my balls as I rocked out was dissipating, meaning the thrill was leaving or Max was no longer there.
I decided drastic action was needed.
I bought Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock. Side note on that. DO NOT USE WALMART SITE TO STORE!. If the product you want is in the store, 40 paces from where you have to go pick it up, they still will not let you have one right out of the store, which is what I thought. You have to wait 10 fucking business days for one to be shipped from Satan's Asshole, or wherever the Walmart Big Warehouse is. It pissed me off royally to walk by the Guitar Heros on the shelf and totally not get one for like 2 weeks. Totally gay.
Anyway, I took the success I had built playing Guitar Hero and attempted to apply it to the six string acoustic guitar. You would be amazed to find this out, but it did not translate well. Turns out the guitar on Guitar Hero is nothing like a real guitar, but more of a rhythm game. I was embarrassed, hungry, a little cold, and horny. I leapt into action and watched TV the rest of the night, and purchased a First Act guitar the next day to begin my training at the crack of 6 PM! I have now learned the Ephrygian scale, the blues scale, and 7 chords. I am ready to rawk. But I had left out the most important part: The band name.
I just saw the Aqua Teen Hunger Force Movie, and was psyched about naming my band "Linoleum Knife", which sounds both bad ass and handy in the kitchen, just like me.
But then I saw the video on YouTube of Renaldo Lapuz singing "You are my Brother Forever", and his outfit prompted the Tylester to call him a "Matador Pimp". http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MAP3ZdXeWAk
I now need you my faithful readers and other people who had a school project to look up haikus and stumbled across this site, to assist me in finding destiny.
Please vote in the poll.
and give you a bad disease!
Linoleum Knife!
Poll of the Century
Listen ya'll. We are about to make history here. Like KGP (Kyle Gass Project) and Wesley Willis, there comes a time when a man learns how to play 7 chords on a guitar, and starts a band instead of practicing said chords.
That time is now.
Let me start earlier than that. I played cello for 9 years. I know, I know, "Stevester 9 years?! You must be Nell Carter's son!" Anyway, I decided to build on that success by rocking out on Guitar Hero. I just beat Rock the 80's on Hard mode. I know, I was psyched too. After that, I felt dead inside. I beat the other 2 Guitar Heros I had on Medium and started working on Hard Mode, but the tickly feeling in my balls as I rocked out was dissipating, meaning the thrill was leaving or Max was no longer there.
I decided drastic action was needed.
I bought Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock. Side note on that. DO NOT USE WALMART SITE TO STORE!. If the product you want is in the store, 40 paces from where you have to go pick it up, they still will not let you have one right out of the store, which is what I thought. You have to wait 10 fucking business days for one to be shipped from Satan's Asshole, or wherever the Walmart Big Warehouse is. It pissed me off royally to walk by the Guitar Heros on the shelf and totally not get one for like 2 weeks. Totally gay.
Anyway, I took the success I had built playing Guitar Hero and attempted to apply it to the six string acoustic guitar. You would be amazed to find this out, but it did not translate well. Turns out the guitar on Guitar Hero is nothing like a real guitar, but more of a rhythm game. I was embarrassed, hungry, a little cold, and horny. I leapt into action and watched TV the rest of the night, and purchased a First Act guitar the next day to begin my training at the crack of 6 PM! I have now learned the Ephrygian scale, the blues scale, and 7 chords. I am ready to rawk. But I had left out the most important part: The band name.
I just saw the Aqua Teen Hunger Force Movie, and was psyched about naming my band "Linoleum Knife", which sounds both bad ass and handy in the kitchen, just like me.
But then I saw the video on YouTube of Renaldo Lapuz singing "You are my Brother Forever", and his outfit prompted the Tylester to call him a "Matador Pimp". http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MAP3ZdXeWAk
I now need you my faithful readers and other people who had a school project to look up haikus and stumbled across this site, to assist me in finding destiny.
Please vote in the poll.
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