Get the Fuck Outta Here

This is why you don't get drunk around small confined areas. WTF?! 

She must like her men well done

I don't even wanna know what her middle name is.

Eye of the Countdown???

What happens when "Eye of the Tiger" meets "The Final Countdown"? FAIL...

Most Spirited House on the Block - FAIL

New-Age Viking

Locked and Loaded

Goodfellas

Don't fuck with the mob.  Especially when they hang out in speedo's.

Stealing Ones Thunder

Junior High - Olan Mills P.O.D.

That's me bitches...quit laughing.

115 pounds of muscle and Rave hairspray.

That.Is.Gangsta.

BART meet NAS

"One love to my thug ni**a's...yeah, mutha fucka...you fuckin' with a changed man...Ooooh..."

Those are the word's I'm hearing on BART right now from a guy who looks like Nas, while he's listening to his IPod. Showing the Bay Area that he got mad mother fucking skills (*currently, I'm throwing up a peace sign looking all crazy and shit*).

It started off like a rap video. Sorta like CB4's "Straight outta Locash". You know, when MC Gusto and his posse break through that piece of construction paper that was a map of Los Angeles, and they just started bustin' mad rhymes.

Yeah, the BART door opens and enters Mr. "Nas" himself, rappin' away to some jam that he wanted all of us passengers to appreciate. It started with a little mumble then he just went crazy and got louder and louder. Dropping mad shit about drinking, smokin' and big booty bitches. It was quite lovely. So lovely that the white guy standing next to him, reading his Bible, did the sign of the cross in hopes that Jesus would forgive this poor bastard and give him a job that didn't involve singing.

The best part was that "Nas" was such in a zone that he didn't care. He was flowin', and the #1 rule when you flow is simple: feel that fucking music and perform like you rappin' with Jay mother fucking Z...regardless if that shit is on a train carrying a bunch of students, working class citizens and some suspected murderers. Hey, I feel you "Nas". I was entertained bro. I just wish that when you sang the chorus that the chick was suppose to sing, that she was with you b/c quite honestly, that part sounded like straight shit.

But hey, who the fuck am I to judge? I'm just a guy who writes bullshit about cool dudes like yourself.

Text Messages are AWESOME!

(903): I told him I'd rather have sex with his father last night. I'll admit now that I was drunk.

 

(928): I'm making tacos. Give me one good reason why we shouldn't be high while eating those tacos. 

(909): Do you ever wonder how many people have prayed for you to be a better person?

(816): He blow dried my hair while I sucked his dick. Now THAT'S fucking teamwork.

  

(619): on todays agenda: meeting with a life coach then going to the dollar store to buy batteries for my vibrator. clearly im still unemployed.

  

(708): bro im too drunk for your spanish code words. did you fuck her or not.

(254): Are you being sarcastic? I can't tell this time because you're in the hospital.

  

(909): I thought it was weird that her dad told me to finish and get out after he walked in on us. I like him

  

(250): If you bring me a slurpee and advil I will eat you out for like an hour.

It's all about heart

Lock up your horses from this guy

Eric Steven Easley isn't just a guy who rapes horses. He's the dumbest guy in America who rapes horses. Our saga begins outside Mobile, Alabama, where the owner of a miniature found the beast acting strangely. There was evidence the horse's tail had been tied to a post...
A subsequent examination by a vet revealed the horse had been raped.

One would think it would be rather hard to catch a horse rapist, seeing as how they aren't very good at testifying against their assailants. But fortunately for deputies, Easley decided to leave his wallet at the scene. In the midst of going bestial, it apparently fell out of his pocket.

It naturally contained his drivers license. Which in turn made it easy for the cops to track down his depraved little ass. He's now charged with cruelty to an animal and killing or disabling livestock.

My thoughts: Dude, you are fucking miniature horses.  Like, I really want to know what goes on in your sick fucking head that you would A) Want to fuck a horse, B) Get off by fucking a horse and C) Want to fuck a horse.  Man, doesn't matter what demeaning shit I say about this article...that shit ain't even right bro.  Do you wear a condom when you are fucking these donkey's?  Damn, WTF does your dong smell like after you smash these livestock?!  Nay-nay bitch!  Wow! 

Jail Scene:

Big Ass Bubba: "So what did you do to serve time, mang?"

Horse Fucker: "I got caught fucking horses."

Big Ass Bubba: "Like, for real?"

Horse Fucker: "Uh, yeah, like, for real."

Arrest this sick S.O.B.

Drunk Buddy Pic of the Day

April 2010, this my friends, is what someone looks like when they haven't seen their buddies for a year or so and decides to come to San Diego for his best friends bachelor party with 12 other guys.  Please notice the "white chalk" coroner position along with a burrito in his left hand.  Oh, FYI, one of our buddies on his way back to the beach house found him lying there randomly on someones lawn and decided to take this awesome pic.

Bachelor Party Aftermath - 11/15/2009

I was going back through my blog today and came across this entry I had from my buddy's bachelor party awhile back.  It gave me so many flashbacks that I thought I should re-post it....FYI, I was literally hungover for a week after this and didn't talk to any of these guys until the wedding.  Enjoy.   

11/15/2009 - I've had some experiences when I traveled but nothing quite like this. The goal for me on Sunday was to make it to the Raider game and home in one piece. But when you get 14 guys together for a bachelor party at a beach house in San Diego (that started on Thursday, mind you), chances are pretty slim. I'm not gonna lie, I live for this shit! The people that know me, know that THIS GUY loves this type of stuff! But the reality is, I'm 30 now and thinking I'm 21 again is pretty pathetic. From the words of my buddy Jason, "This weekend, I gave everything I had..." and fuck, did I pay for it. Fast forward to Sunday morning 4am.

After drinking for hours on the final day of this bachelor party, my goal was to crash by at least 11pm. I wasn't punking out on the rest of the guys that wanted to party, I was just doing what I thought could get me over the HANGOVER since I had the earliest flight out the next day. You guys need to understand that what I drank and ate for 3 days could kill a mature farm animal. Scary, I know. It's 4am and I wake up with the worst case of the bubble guts and for the next two hours I'd be sitting on the crapper for a 2-3 hour time frame asking God, "Why me?!" I'm tired, shaking and just want to try to shake this feeling off b/c I want to be semi-normal when I board the plane back to Oaktown. But when you realize everything you drank and the last meal you ate consisted of 3 double cheeseburgers, a big mac, extra large fry and a diet coke all under 15 minutes (my friends challenged me so how could I say no, right?), you know shit is gonna get ugly.

I get it together, head to the airport and wait to board my flight. Shit just went downhill from there...

My flights packed and the only available seating are middle seats. By the way, I hate fucking middle seats! At this point, my ass hurts from sitting on the John for hours, I feel like death and I just want to get some shut eye and keep it together. I sit by a 60 year old woman that had a body of a 10 year old girl and a fucking giant that looks like Mark Eaton (if you don't know who he is, google him. he's not pretty!). Not off to a good start. All of the sudden, I get so lucky to have a mom and her 4 year old sit behind me. Lucky me, this kid kicks my seats the whole fucking flight. This isn't helping me from yacking my guts out. Now here comes the kicker...the flight attendant does not only look like the figure skater Scott Hamilton, but the jerkoff is annoying the shit out of me, talks really loud and is wearing a red clown nose like he's fucking Patch Adams (I take one look at him and just think, "Man, this douchebag needs to get laid or something"). My head is steaming and I'm really trying to be cool at this point.

We finally take off and I'm feeling a little whoozy and I'm praying to God that I don't throw up. Not so fast...the drink orders come out and the two sitting in front of me and the woman across the way decide to purchase bloody mary's. I took a wiff of that and shit just got way real. From the bloody mary smell, that little fucking kid kicking my seat and the thought of what I just consumed for the past 3 days, I started to get that pre throw-up drool. If you don't know what that is, it's the shit that taste funny, looks like spit and once released from your mouth, you're fucked - THROW UP CITY! I gotta act fast and gotta act now. At first I looked at the seat back pocket in front of me and noticed that the barf bag they supply wouldn't even hold what I thought was going to project out of my mouth. I get up, and dart for the bathroom. This is the worst part...

I head to the back of the plane and the door's locked. I feel like shit, I want to die and feel like I'm being punished. Literally, 5 minutes later, a huge guy who looked like he could have consumed a 12 year old boy, walks out. I give him the, "Hey buddy, please get out of my way b/c I'm about to use your face as a toilet right now," look. 2 seconds later as I walked in, I realized that this guy took a shit so bad and so foul that it caused me to start projectile vomitting all over the can within seconds. I think I was throwing up so violently that I sounded like a dying sea lion. For a good 10 minutes I was heaving everything I possibly could while at the same time making things worse b/c I couldn't shake off the thought of all the Natty and Keystone Light I drank. I clean up this awful, dreadful lavatory and head back to my seat. The looks I got were not the most amusing but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do right? What a weekend and a story about my hungover ass to start the work week.

Art Piece of the Day

A first grade girl handed in the drawing below for her homework assignment. 

The teacher graded it and the child brought it home.  She returned to school the next day with the following note: 

Dear Ms. Davis,

I want to be perfectly clear on my child's homework illustration.  It is NOT of me on a dance pole on a stage in a strip joint surrounded by male customers with money.  I work at Home Depot and had commented to my daughter how much money we made in the recent snowstorm.
 

This drawing is of me selling a shovel. 


Sincerely,


Mrs. Harrington

Stating the facts

FACT: Farmville on Facebook is a stupid ass game.  For fucks sake people, stop sending me bullshit request.  PLEASE!

FACT: Friendster is better than MySpace and Facebook.  Wow, I can't believe I just said that.  Someone please kick me in my balls please.

FACT: Unattractive person showing hairy ass crack in the office...FAIL! 

FACT: I had the runs yesterday.

FACT: I should be the spokesperson for Target.  Only because after I had two kids, my wardrobe went from Banana Republic to Target.  But hey, Target is badass and where else could you get a pair of Vans knock-offs for $20?!  Holla!

FACT: Antoine Dobson is the second coming of Tupac Shakur.

FACT: Why do people on Facebook have to state every problem they have in life?  Like, every fucking problem?  I get it.  But you know what?  Life fucking sucks sometimes.  Get over it.  But hey, I still love you guys! 

FACT: I don't think these are actual FACTS.