Big Trouble, In Little China

Thursday morning, 6am. I knew I shouldn't have drank Wednesday night. But see, when you have people who like to drink like I do, then ask if you want to go out for a drink, how the fuck are you going to say no?

Today's story isn't about the shit show that was Wednesday evening, rather, it's a story about what happened ON Thursday. In Chinatown. At my massage appointment. With my masseuse, we'll call her, Ming-Li.

I woke up on Thursday in a haze. I called into work "sick" because what transpired on Wednesday night was something out of J-Wunder's play book. All bad with nothing good coming out of it...not even a hook-up. Just booze, shit talking and A LOT OF TACO TRUCK. Oh, hey Ghetto Genius, if you're reading this, you're an asshole for not hanging out. Where was I???? Oh yeah, my massage.

So I get to Chinatown, still drunk and wait for my appointment to start. I get called up and walked to one of those rooms with the tranquil-ass music, candles and scent of strippers and Zen. I need this. I need something to kill this feeling of death because right now, I want to puke and shit my brains out. I strip down to nothing, wrap a towel around me and wait for my masseuse to arrive. Then enters Ming-Li.

Here stood 4 foot 2 inches of Asian. Feet looked like two bricks with the bottoms looking like they were dipped in broken glass. Hands looked like they went through 5 World Wars. Face was something you'd only see on Animal Planet. This was the woman that was suppose to take my stress, "self-inflicting flu" and pain away. To be honest, I was actually glad the broad wasn't smoking hot. Otherwise, I probably would have slipped her a five dollar bill and asked for a reach-around after.

And then the conversation begins:

ML: YOU. Lay down here. Face down now.

Me: Oh, I don't even get a handshake first? *failed joke*

ML: *blank stare* Don't waste time. Lay now.

Me: Alright, baby girl. Easy...E-Zeeeee.

ML: Where it hurt?

Me: EVERY.WHERE. Do what you Asians do, Ling-Ling.

ML: It's Ming-Li!!! So you want full body special?

Me: YEEEEESSSSS!

Now, what one would expect, would be getting rubbed down from head to toe. Not with this crazy ass Asian lady. Hell no! What this woman did surprised the shit out of me...mainly because I was super hungover.

As I'm lying face down, with my eyes closed trying not to puke and shit myself, I suddenly feel like a gorilla jumped on my back and was ready to put the beat down on me. I turn the fuck around and what do I see? Motherfucking Ming-Li, standing on my shit like she's representing China on the balance beam at the goddamn Olympics. This is the truth people.

Me: What the fuck are you doing, Jackie Chan?

ML: Ming-Li I say! Full body special. Make you feel goooooooood. Head down.

I put my head down and all I can think to myself was, "This bitch better not try some freaky shit. My days of hooking up with ugly massage therapists just to get it for free are OVER." Ming-Li starts whatever the fuck she's doing and within seconds, I was digging what the fuck she was doing. People, I don't know if you ever had an Asian midget massage you while they were standing on your back and if you haven't, you better get on that shit ASAP. I've never in my life felt something so exhilarating yet, relaxing. It was like this bitch was doing the River Dance (but to Chinese techno music) and just fucking me up in ways that loosened up every inch of my body.

Don't get me wrong though, this broad's feet were tougher than sandpaper and brillo pads put together, but for fucks sake, how feet like that made me feel so good was anybody's guess. Then it all turned for the worse 20 minutes in...

Relaxed and feeling my Chi in this motherfucking place, I began to get the hangover sweats. Like, really bad. Dripping with every ounce of what I drank the night before, I stop Ming-Li and ask her if she can give me some water. I take two drinks, lay my face back down and start to become ok again. I start to breathe really slow and start to count backwards from 100 because what I think is about to happen next, probably won't be good at this goddamn moment in time. Ming-Li is fucking me up like a boss and I'm enjoying every second of it...well, that was until she did some Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu shit that made this moment one I'll never forget.

As I was right fucking there shaking my hangover sweats off, this bitch takes both my arms (as if she was about to crucify me), then jams her heels in my mid back. As she's doing this, she's saying, "Ok, this the fun part." Fun part my ass, people. What happens next, I'll never be invited back to this place ever again...

Ming-Li goes to town on me in this position while her feet move from my neck, down to my tail bone and back up. While this is happening, my stomach is beginning to speak and it was at that moment, I knew I had to focus on breathing and talk myself into not puking or shitting myself. For 27 seconds it worked, then the pre-puke saliva came coming...

This crazy bitch says some shit in Chinese, repositions my arms, pulls me up from behind like that scene from Titantic, digs her heels right above my ass cheeks and then all fucking HELL BROKE LOOSE.

I PUKED AND LET IT FLY.

THEN I SHIT MYSELF. LIKE, A SHART THAT TURNED INTO A SHIT, SHIT.

The pressure on my body was too much. Puke was coming out like that scene from the Exorcist. Shit was coming out of me like that scene in Bridemaids where Melissa McCarthy is shitting in the sink and her butthole was creating lava. I'm trying to tell Ming-Li to stop but this bitch has me in such an awkward position that I can't even talk. Puke is just flying out as well as all the shit I drank and tacos and hot sauce I consumed on the late night. Don't even get me started about me shitting myself in the towel I'm wrapped in. This was like a Quentin Tarantino movie gone wrong, but oh so right. It was like I couldn't stop. It was like Ming-Li was actually cleansing me of my demons. It was like she was giving me an Asian private exorcism her damn self.

Ming-Li finally stops, jumps off and then stops screaming at me in Chinese as tears are running down my face, puke is splattered on the floor and walls and shit is pretty much running down my leg and ball sack. Side note: Definitely had too much hot sauce the night before. But I digress.

Me: Fuck. Why? Why did you do that, Ming-Li? Who the fuck massages someone like that? You're evil. Sooooo evil. *tears still running down face*

ML: Ching, chang, bo-luk, sing lai cho. (not sure what the fuck any of this means but I'm pretty sure it was something along the lines of "You're a dead man and now the Triads will be on the hunt to kill you and your family, monkey mouth bitch."

I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know what else to say. That said, I did what any other person would have done in my situation...

I rolled the fuck off the table, grabbed my clothes, threw a hundred dollar bill at this bitch and darted towards the door, still wrapped in a shit covered white towel that I could have given zero fucks about. The worst part was that as I was speed walking, what I left behind me was a trail of dookie and size 11 footprints.

Lightheaded, ashamed and pathetic I head into an alley to gather my thoughts and figure out what the fuck just happened. I take my towel off and use the clean parts to wipe whatever poo is still on my body. At this point, I don't even care if I get it all off since I drove here. I put my clothes on and have a seat on the curb to calm my nerves. It was then that some little ass Asian dude walks towards me with a dead fucking chicken in his hands and says, "You look like you had long night. I sell you this chicken for five dolla. It's good luck chicken. Get you pretty girl." It was then and only then I could only laugh about what just happened. I look at this cat, hand him a ten dollar bill, he hands me the dead chicken, I get in my car and take off.

Once I got home, my roommate looked at me and said, "What in God's fucking name happened to you and why the FUCK are you holding a dead fucking chicken?!"

My reply: "Life choices and bad decisions, bruh. Life choices and bad fucking decisions."

The Hangover, The Drive And The Hand Grenade That Put Me Over The Top

I remembered it like it was Saturday...because it was actually Saturday. I'm at this bar with my buddies and like the guy that I am, I come in guns blazing and get this party started. 

Shot after shot...after shot. Tequila. Down the hatch. Fireball. Keep it coming. Jager. Stop teasing me. Rumplemintz. Now we are going old school. 

From the moment I set foot in one of the classiest dives around, I knew this night was going to be a great fucking night. 

I was drunk like a 15 year old with a six pack of Zima, walking around like a girl wearing six inch heels for the very first time. No fucks to give. No reasons to care. No standards. No morals. No nothing. Just fucking Shitty McShitfaced. I was beyond the point of getting any type of pussy but hey, shit happens as our infamous leader, J-Wunder, would say. 

We close down the bar, hop in a cab and take our asses home. 

Fast forward to the next day...

My buddy and I are heading home and like a stupid fuck, I decide to drive my car. With a hangover so bad that it made me cry twice, I just wanted to get the fuck home, curl up in a ball, order some pizza and watch Jean Claude Van Damme and Steven Segal flicks. We get in the car with some bottled water, advil and a Bible to help us get through this 2 hour drive home. 

So you're not all bored to death, we get an hour into the drive when my buddy starts to get the most awful gas known to man. I'm talking some toxic Area 51 shit. This stuff was North Korea nuclear. No joke. 

Practically the rest of the drive, I had to roll down the window gagging my fucking brains out, hoping not to puke as he sat there, still wasted, laughing his ass off. His anus was like a machine gun with unlimited bullets. I almost pulled over and asked him to go lay his ass in the trunk because I was thoroughly convinced this motherfucker shit his pants and probably stained my seat. 

I kid you not, as soon as I roll up the windows, within ten minutes, this fool did something that I will never ever EVER forget. 

Dazed, confused, still a little wasted and hungover as all sin, I wasn't prepared for what my buddy did. Concentrating on the road and doing my best not to get pulled over for a possible DUI, this guy cups his hand between the seat and his asshole, shoots a silent fart out, cups that shit like he caught some fireflies, holds it and then as I was in mid yawn, this motherfucker throws that gas right into my mouth. We like to call this the HAND GRENADE. 

It was right then and there that the unthinkable happened. 

With no time to react, I felt like someone dropped a hot one in my mouth and I ingested death with a hint of basil and lemon. I swerve onto the shoulder, try to gain my composure then with one more whiff of what must have smelled like a 3rd World Country, I puked. 

I PUKED EVERYWHERE. 

On my steering wheel.

Dashboard. 

Lap.

Shoes.

Floor.

Seats.

My buddy. 

The windshield. 

Any fucking place you could find in the front of a car, I hit that sonofabitch with such force, it looked like that scene from Pulp Fiction where Vincent shoots Marvin in the face and dude's head splatters EVERYWHERE. Fucked up shit, right?

Parked on the side of the road, puke all up in my car, I'm freaking the fuck out because what started off to be funny, shit got real. So real, that the smell made my buddy puke. Luckily, outside and on parts of the passenger door. 

Me: "What the fuck bro?! Who the fuck does that to someone who is hung the fuck over?!"

Buddy: "I've done that shit to you a million times. How the hell was I supposed to know you were gonna puke like the scene from Stand By Me, asshole?!"

Me: "Who farts like that? Are you sick, motherfucker?! You got a disease you ain't never told us about? You dying fool?! Whose ass smells like that?!"

Buddy: "Did you not notice what the fuck we drank, bro?!" 

As this whole argument is going down on the side of the road...puke splattered all over the car with remnants of Taco Bell and what I think was In and Out, a cop pulls up. 

We don't know what the fuck to do but sit there. Puke just chillin'. 

Cop: "What.On.Earth. What in God's name happened here?! Are you two ok? Jesus, boys. This is like a murder scene. Do you need assistance?"

Buddy: "Officer, my friend and I have the stomach flu and we were trying to make it home and get some rest."

Cop: "I think I might puke. What is that on your leg son?! Is that...Is that...Son, did you just shit yourself?!"

Buddy: "OMG...officer, I'm so sorry. I can't control myself. I'm really sick. This is soooo embarrassing."

*It was right here when I wish I had a taser to light this motherfucker up. Shit?! Really, bro?!*

Cop: "Boys, go home. Actually, there's a Target right off this next exit. Go there and get some stuff to clean this car up. You two are an absolute wreck. My God."

Me: "Thank you, officer. We're really sorry. We weren't expecting this. Especially my friend going dookie in his pants."

Ten minutes later, we find the Target, change into our clothes from the night before...but not before I slap the shit out of my buddy for not realizing that he threw up so hard he shat himself...through his pants and onto my seat. Not even the Ghetto Genius does something like this. FML. 

We walk into Target smelling like death, broken promises and other shit I would rather not even talk about. We leave spending at least $200 in cleaning supplies and towels. And believe it or not, we didn't do too bad of a job cleaning up what we could. 2 hours later, we head home and don't say a fucking word to one another. 

I drop my buddy off and as he opens the door I could only mutter the words, "Bro, I'm not proud of what we did, more importantly, I'm not proud of what you did by shitting your pants on MY goddamn seat. You're getting my car detailed and I don't care what it cost. Your ass is paying for it. No more hang grenades, man. Especially when I'm hungover like that. Dickface."

Buddy: "My bad bro. I didn't think one lousy fart would do that. You think that cop is going to tell his buddies back at the station?"

Me: "Who cares. You know what though?"

Buddy: "What's that?"

Me: "I'm gonna tell J, and make sure the whole world knows you shit your pants, asshole. Fuck you and get out of my car. See you tomorrow." 

Fuck this guy. 

FUCK.THIS.GUY.  

One Night In Outer Space

It was another Saturday night. Myself and J-Wun at the bar, doing what we do best - getting faded and X fucking rated. Our fearless leader gets the good 'ol midnight booty-call (he really got this shit around 9:15pm, so let's not get it twisted)  and leaves to ride the Pound Town Express. The only words he leaves me with before he bones out is, "Bro, for the love of all things holy, stay out of trouble and avoid the crazy bitches, tonight. I don't want some goddamn text saying you're in jail, naked in an alley or on my doorstep covered in puke holding your kidneys."

I don't know what it is about this guy, but every single time he gives me final words, something ALWAYS HAPPENS. 

ALWAYS.

Thanks, asshole. 

She was sitting two seats away from me. A hot blonde with a nice ass and petite enough to look like a goddamn action figure. 

Knowing my wingman left for the night and this chick was hanging with 5 of her fattest and probably ugliest friends, my game had to be on point. Not because my game is awful, but the 5 friends she was with were all gate keepers and more importantly, HATERS. And for some of you fellas that don't know...if you want to know what it feels like to look like scum of the earth, hit on a chick who hangs out with ugly people. Those hating ass broads will call you every awful thing in the book AND give 100 reasons why their hot friend shouldn't talk, look or go home with you. Cock blocking at its very best! But I digress...

I use the oldest trick in the book and buy Tits Magee a drink and her 5 chubby friends a drink and some appetizers. If there is one way to a chubby broads heart, let alone 5 of these mammoths, it's fucking food. LOTS OF IT!!!

We begin conversation and things begin to go right where I want them. And just so I don't bore you guys with the bullshit, I feed the herd another round of apps and drinks and me and this gal cruise back to her pad.

From the car ride all the way to her apartment, we end up groping one another and making out like nobody's business. By the time we get out of her car, I am probably sporting a wood so damn big and hard that if you were to take a piece of wood and swing that shit at my junk, it would break that fucker in half. It was like the ultimate Voltron of boners.

She opens the door and shit is about to get R-E-A-L.

Clothes scattered all over the place, we finally get naked and without even cueing her, there's this broad sucking my schlong like that shit is the last popsicle left on the planet. Atta girl!

About 5 minutes in, I can't take it anymore, tell her to hop her little ass on the bed, with her booty near the edge so I can stand up while I'm pounding her like I'm tenderizing meat. She puts her legs on my shoulders, I take my Megatron battle axe of a cock and slowly insert it in...you know, because for a petite broad like this, that shit might be a little overwhelming. Then it happened...

People, what I'm about to tell you not only made me feel like a 12 year old boy with a very small penis, but confused, lost, and more mother fucking confused. Side note: I do not have a small penis. My shit is at least 6 inches in length and a 12 ounce Bud Light bottle in girth. Wait, is that a small penis?

As I inserted my penis inside of her very wet vagina, I began to do the normal fucking motion but the thing was, I couldn't really feel anything. It was almost as if I was standing in a hallway, naked, fucking the air while people were spraying me with a fucking garden hose...laughing hysterically.

Can a bitch be this loose? For a woman of her stature, how was this scientifically possible? Has she heard of fucking kegels for fuck sake? Wait...did she have a baby? Like a big ass mother fucking baby?! That said, this happened while I was fucking her:

Me: *pretending to breathe all heavy* "You have any kids? Like big ones that were born as big as your adult self?"

Chick: "Are you serious right now? Uh, noooooo. O-EM-GEEEEE. I really like, can't like, believe like, you're like, asking me that while we're like, having sex. O-EM-GEEEE."

Yeah, this was the kind of broad I was banging. One who talked like this and had a goddamn brain of a rock. Don't judge. I've been on a little dry streak as of late. Need a little physical therapy of the cock to get back into the big leagues again. Anyway, like I was saying, this was the conversation that went down and continued...

Me: *still pumping away at the black hole* "I know it's weird but seriously, you have no kids?"

Chick: "Why are you like, seriously like, asking me this? And no, I don't have, like, any kids. Just nieces and nephews."

Me: "Well, did you give birth to any of them?"

Chick: "O-EM-GEEE. Are you gonna fuck me or what?"

Me: "Ok, ok. Sorry. Close your eyes and get ready to feel my shit pound you good."

This shit was possibly the worst feeling that I couldn't even feel. Talk about throwing a hot dog in a hallway. It was like throwing a hot dog into outer fucking space during hurricane season. She wasn't moaning or anything. It was like her pussy was saying, "Yo dawg, you either need to throw some dick growth on your cock or fuck me with a bat. The choice is yours little big dong." Talk about a total goddamn mind fuck. The harder I was fucking her, still nothing. No emotion or signs of life. N-O-T-H-I-N-G.

So I did what any other man would do in this situation - I changed up positions and guess what? Still felt like I was fucking the air with a chick as a stand-in. WTF is going on and will my boner last another minute longer? Knowing what my cock was going through emotionally, I went for the desperation move and did what any man would also do while a girl was in the doggy style position - I went for her cinnamon ring, and put that shit right in there. BULLSEYE!!!!

Waiting for a surprised reaction followed by a right hook to the face, all I got was, "If you're gonna put it in my butt, go slow. I'm tight and it's been awhile. God, your cock is HUGE."

Really, bitch?

Moral of the story: In life, you will always be met with two options. Sometimes option B is the way to go, even if option A is supposed to be 100% foolproof. Oh, and if you need to distract the ugly and big boned friends of the hot girl you're trying to get at, feed them...you will win them over in seconds.

PSA: Control The C-R-A-Z-Y

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Advice Column: Be Cool

Dude could I ask you to write an advice column on how to be more sociable because I want to be able to go up to girls without being nervous as fuck. I'm even like that with girls I'm great friends with. Just having a tough time I guess.




If there is one thing I've learned in life it's this:

BE COOL.

Doesn't matter if you're on a date, at a job interview, meeting new people or dropping deuce at a chicks house...always remember to BE COOL (Samuel L. Jackson voice).

Nerves get the best of us. Some more than others. Nothing is worse than being THAT person to fuck up an opportunity. What that opportunity is, is whatever opportunity you tried to cease but royally fucked up due to "first boner" awkwardness, so take it for what it is. Just remember...BE COOL.

FACT: You can't teach someone to be someone they're not.

In your case...sociable. HOWEVER, you can teach someone how to take that fucked up quality you currently possess and turn that shit into a plus. In your case, nerves. Check it.

It's apparent something clicks every time you're around chicks. Whether it's newcomers or good friends, you tend to freak the fuck out. Kinda like when you cum for the first time and wonder what the fuck that yogurt looking shit was that shot out of your dick hole, right? Whatever the case may be, you panic and get all fucking weird. This could be for a few reasons...

1) Your dick just wants to unleash from your pants and just start fucking bitches. I like to call this "unleashing the Wangwolf."

2) You have no game...even though you aren't trying to spit game, you have none.

3) You're a virgin.

4) You're a virgin that does not want to be a virgin anymore.

5) Your self-confidence is at an all-time low. Hell, it was never at a high.

Now, I'm almost positive that out of these five things, one of them has to be right. I don't care which one it is, just listen to what I have to say and the rest will come together like two perfectly round butt cheeks hugging a stripper pole.

Chicks like a guy who can act like themselves. Chicks (smart ones) can read through bullshit. Chicks want someone that's real, genuine and at the end of the day, a good guy. Now, that's not to say chicks don't want a bad boy because some do. They also want a guy with a great personality who is funny and can carry on a conversation. This is the part you desperately lack...big time. So how can you fix that? Answer: you can't. Does this mean you're royally fucked? Not necessarily. Peep it...

I've seen guys who don't say shit except smile and have girls swooning. It's like that foreign exchange student who doesn't know a lick of fucking English but pulls more pussy than Ricky Martin (pre-gay stage) by not saying a word, only nodding "yes" and looking like he just shit his pants. How does this happen? It's rather simple. It's called, "working with what you got." Hey, my dick ain't 12 inches but trust me, once I get a chick in the sack, by the next morning, she's gonna think she got fucked by a rhinoceros. See, 6.382 inches really does go a long way. Have confidence even though you have nerves. "Is that even possible, Mr. RINGER?" Of course it is fuck face, why do you think I'm saying it? The key to girls is showing them the real YOU. Sure you are nervous and can't hold a decent conversation. And sure you may look like you are a serial killer because your social skills go as far as talking to the television while playing Call of Duty. But you know what? There is at least one bitch out there that likes that shy, nervous, serial killer-looking guy. That guy is YOU my friend. Can I get an AMEN?

If I told you to get drunk to loosen up, say this and that, talk about such and such, you know what would happen when it was game time? You would do exactly as I say and make an ass out of yourself. Not because you were following my directions, but because bitches will smell your bullshit from eons away, mother fucker. DON'T DO THAT SHIT! You do YOU. In the words of J-Wun...Real talk.

Take your non-sociable having ass up to a girl and don't expect shit. If you got good friends who are female already, then you are doing something right...I mean, the shitty part is that you're more than likely in the friend zone but that's besides the fucking point. Be YOU homeboy and be COOL. The social aspect will come once you break the ice by smiling at Big Tits Magee, trust me. The limited skills you have that probably consists of just breathing and smiling will have to get you somewhere, so use that to your advantage. Smile like a mother fucker, nod like you're into the conversation but not so much that it looks like you're sucking dick and be cool and calm. Conversation will arise if the chick is interested and curious and you're not staring at her like you're about to roofie her fucking drink and about to rape her. So ease up on the serial killer eyes, ok playa?

BE COOL. BE COOL. BE FUCKING COOL.

You do that, you'll be al-fucking-right.

Don't thank me, thank the chick that's about to bang you,

The RINGER

Advice Column: Sensitive Bitchassness of the Sandy Vagina

Dear Ghetto Genius crew,

Im about to lose my fucking mind at my current job. Its coming to the point when i dont give a shit about anything and im about to beat the shit out of everyone i see for no fucking reason. I just got promoted and its almost like everyone is trying my patience by bringing up useless bullshit for reason 1) they are plotting against me to drive me crazy. 2) they really need my help and they are that fucking useless. A little thing about myself is that i have a little childhood anger problems that have not gone away. I have just learned to control myself. Lets face it, there are certain things that the laws that prevent me from doing what i want. Plus i dont like jail. I heard a crazy rumor that people get sexually assault or something like that. But the point is in my teenage years I was a guy who didnt take shit from nobody. Now being in the adult world, people are taking are spreading there cheeks and giving me a Clevland steamer. I need to know if its just me and im acting like Mary pussy Poppings or are people really trying to piss me off to when i decide i to go all "Taliban" and fuck there world up. Do i need to channell my anger ( i get pissed kinda easy) or do i need to go back to my weed smoking/ Akunamatata/ dont give a fuck cuz a fuck i dont i dont give ways. I dont wanna mess up my millitary career my letting a few people i dont give 1 fuck, 2 who the hell cares, and 3 shits about and messing up all the hard work i put in to controling myself over the last 22 years of my awesome life (lol). Please help

Respectfully/Angryly Sent
From " Does Wayne Brady have to choke/stab/shoot a bitch"



Dear DWBHTCJLKDAJSFLKDJASL;FJDSA;LJFADSJKL,

Damn man, did you have to pick the longest fucking sign-off in the history of letters or what?! Our fearless leader hit me up today because he felt I'm dragging ass (once again) and needed to write something and thought your email was right up my alley. Thanks, J. Fucking dick. Anyway, I read this and thought, "This fucking dude is talking like a crazy mother fucker. I got this." So here we are, ass munch. I'm here to answer your question and hope you don't go and kill someone because honestly, you got some fucking issues. But first, let me tell you a little story...

It was 1995. I was in the 10th grade. I was Mister Popular. Had everything a kid my age could ever want - friends, virgin pussy, Nintendo 64 (or was it Super Nintendo?). Whatever the fuck it was, I felt like I was living the life and the American fucking dream. Although, there was one little problem: I was a little bit of a head case. Or what I like to refer as: Sensitive Bitchassness of the Sandy Vagina. I had a temper problem. A bad one. I'm not sure where I got it from considering my dad was like Ward fucking Cleaver and my mom...well, my mom was an ex-stripper. But if you were to ask her that today, she would say she was a ballet dancer. Let's be honest people, the only ballet she was doing was probably swan dives on that cock. No mom should be coming home from "work" looking like David fucking Bowie in the movie "Labyrinth". All fucking glittery and shit, smelling like exotic oils, Old Spice, vanilla rum with hair so fucked up, you would have thought she got attacked by a pack of fucking wolves. Thanks mom for being a complete, utter and awesome whorebag...love you, bitch titties. What was I saying again? Oh yeah, I was a sensitive and angry mother fucker growing up.

I never thought I was over the top. Sure I may have slapped a few kids across the face with a Big Slam of Pepsi and stole their lunch money because they were telling me how to solve a math problem, and sure I may have dropkicked the Vice Principal in the ding-a-ling because he mistaken me for a Spice Girl one Halloween. I wasn't THAT bad...until that April afternoon in my Humanities class.

My good buddy Jeremy was in that class. We were troublemakers. We never shut the fuck up. We never listened and honestly, just didn't give two fucks. We were THOSE guys that you wanted to dick punch so bad that you wouldn't feel bad if we choked on our own balls. True story. Anyway, one day, we were playing the ruler game. You remember the ruler game, right? You place a ruler on your hand and if the person can pick up the ruler and slap you on the hand with it without missing before you move your hand out of the way, they get to go again. This game was probably the stupidest fucking game ever invented by stupid fucking people. That's why we loved it and played it every 5th period. Just so happens on this very day, Jeremy felt my wrath with a #2 pencil.

Not to bore the shit out of you people but basically, Jeremy was kicking my ass at the ruler game. So much that my left hand was started to look like my left ass cheek - swollen, bruised and just fucked up. I was irritated and annoyed. I HATE fucking losing. Especially to someone who looks like he's the cross between Eric Stoltz in the movie "Mask" and a vagina that has seen one too many gang bangs at Dennis Rodman's house. Real talk.

I couldn't take it any more. I had to find some way to beat him or I was gonna blow. But chance after chance I had, I lost and the pain was getting worse. So I did what any 15 year old kid with a case of Sensitive Bitchassness of the Sandy Vagina would do...I stabbed that fat fuck with my #2 pencil. Right in the goddamn stomach. I don't know why, I don't know how, I just stabbed him "American Me" style. Worst part, after I stabbed him, the pencil broke leaving about 2 inches of pencil lodged in his belly and me, wondering what the fuck did I just do to my best buddy. We head to the bathroom and shit just got worse...

Trying to be all calm, Jeremy starts to scream like a little bitch. I have no idea what to say so I slap him across the face and tell him to stop overreacting...it's not like he's dying and shit. The only thing he could say was, "Did you not fucking notice the two inches of fucking wood that has penetrated through my fucking stomach from you?!" I start to turn white because I'm noticing that the pencil I stabbed him with is stuck in this bastard pretty fucking good. So without even thinking, I start to laugh. Jeremy's not amused. He actually starts to pull out the pencil. What seemed like eternity took 15 seconds to remove and then it happened...I threw up on Jeremy. All over the mother fucker. On his chest, new Jordan's, Guess jeans, chain wallet do-hickey-thing-a-ma-jigger. Remember those fucking things? Dude was a goddamn mess. All because I lost my shit and thought, "If I stab him, I win and the game is over. Seems legit. Do it." Surprisingly enough, Jeremy was cool and forgave me. Then about 2 months later, he fucks my sister and leaves cum in my shirt drawer. BTW - do you know what it feels like when you wear a weeks worth of shirts and don't even notice that you have goddamn jizz all over yourself? Teachers were looking at me like I was filming porn at my house. Not only that, it just solidified the fact that my mom was indeed a stripper and was probably fucking all the male teachers at my high school.

NOT FUCKING COOL, BRO. NOT COOL.

All this went down because I had a severe case of Sensitive Bitchassness of the Sandy Vagina.

You my crazy fucking friend sound like me growing up. Do you want to be that guy that stabs people with a pencil, realize what you've done only to make the situation worse then get Karmacized (new word...you're welcome) because of your dumb ass actions? If the answer is yes, then I suggest you just go postal and start unloading on mother fuckers and do whatever crazy fucks like you do. I would probably guess you start throwing shit, cussing really loud and breaking shit like you really are pissed off. If the answer is no, then smoke more weed, find your inner self, then go to church and ask the priest to help you see the light...but not in a Jerry Sandusky kind of way. Wait, what? Too soon?

I was angry like you are now. It didn't pay off because look what happened: Jeremy got hurt, a new pair of Jordan's were ruined, my sister was de-virginized and  I walked around campus for a week with millions of dried up babies thinking that it was just too much soap from the washer.

Don't be that guy to walk around with dried fucking cum on your shirts for a whole week. Lighten the fuck up, chill the fuck out, enjoy your job and don't let your crazy inner self get the best of you. We live in a world where shit happens. Don't get shit on unless it's from my mom, the stripper.

I know none of this made any sense but guess what? I don't care and neither does anyone else. Selfish fuck.

Fuck Bitches and Get Paid,

The RINGER

St. Panties Day Massacre

No it's not a typo. The title of this column is exactly what it says - ST. PANTIES DAY MASSACRE.

People, what I'm about to tell you is something, I, The RINGER, could only tell. If you haven't noticed, weird shit only happens to me. Not because I'm at the wrong place at the wrong time, but because honestly, I do this shit to myself. Just ask our fearless leader, J-Wunder. Who in fact, laughed at my sorry ass this past weekend because he's a fucking dickface. Hear that J-Wun...I'm calling you a fucking dickface. Dickface. Sorry bro, don't cut me.

500 people crowded into one bar. Some drunk. Some wiggity wasted. Some blacked the fuck out. Myself? Well, I was borderline dead. As in, no longer living. What turned out as a day of celebrating Irish whateverthefuckitis, ended up being what I like to call, "EPIC".

If there is one thing you need to know about me is that I don't give a fuck. About anything. If I am ever challenged, I will ALWAYS accept that challenge then fuck you in the face with it. Take March 17, 2012 for example:

My boys thought it would be fucking hilarious for me to get on top of the bar, quiet the crowd and request something from the ladies. What that request was, was up to me. All I had to do was get the fucking energy to hop on the fucking bar and yell some shit out to 499 other drunk motherfuckers. So I did...

ME: "Excuse me mates (why the fuck I tried to sound Australian beats the shit out of me). How you fucking fucks doing in this bitch?! I know I don't look Irish and I'm pretty fucked up right now, but you know what? You donkey fucks are fucking drunk too, so don't fucking judge. I forgot what the hell I was gonna say. Oh yeah...the reason why I'm standing up on this here bar about to get my ass kicked, is because I wanted to ask all of you ladies...even you fucking god awful ugly ones who will probably get cuter by the time I finish this car bomb…I want your panties. Now, like Mardi Gras, I am starting a new fucking revolution bitches. It's called St. Panties Day. True story sluts. All I ask to celebrate this joyous new occasion along with St. Patrick's Day is that all you ladies give me your panties so I can put them around my neck as a homage to every man, known to man...even fucking Jesus who was a holy fucking dude. So who is in?"

It was at that point I knew I said some shit that was either going to get me fucking killed, or get me fucking laid. Then it happened...

*SILENCE* *LAUGHTER* *A COUPLE OF "FUCK YOU DOUCHEBAG's"* THEN...

The first pair of thongs thrown in my direction. Then another. And another. And another. Shit started flying from every goddamn direction. Bitches were straight making it rain panties...even them fat ass bitches. It was like some motherfucker blew up Victoria’s Secret inside this goddamn bar. My boys were floored and I just sat there holding my fucking cock like that shit was 20 inches long and thick as a goddamn oak tree. Straight up. And if this day couldn’t get any better, it did.

What starting off as a ridiculous fucking request, practically turned into a drunk orgy. I realized any woman willing to take off their panties and give them to a goddamn stranger was down to get down. Because of that, I was covered in every piece of pussy that place had to offer. Hot ones, fat ones, anorexic ones, smelly ones, "holy shit" ones, "sign me up for that" ones...it got to the point where I felt famous almost. Invincible actually.

Girl after girl, I made out with those drunk bitches like I was going through food samples at Costco. A little kiss here, some grab ass over there, some titty-a-la-mode up in this shit...a few games of tug and pull like it was nothing. Then came that awkward moment as I was heading to the bathroom...

She was a Ginger. Hot as a bare vagina with a day old waxing (because day of, we all know that shit is swollen and looks like a fucking cantaloupe). She followed me to the pisser only to whisper those sweet words: "I want to suck your cock pantie boy." I took one drunk ass look at her, grabbed her by the ass cheeks and pushed her into the bathroom headed towards the handicap stall. At first it was awkward because 3 dudes were in the other stalls taking a fat ass shit from way too much fucking Guiness, but once we got past that point, I locked the bathroom door behind me, unzipped my pants, whipped out my fucking schlong and Strawberry Short Tits went to town. It was blowjob fucking heaven people. It was like this broad was sucking a golf ball through a garden hose. In and out, up and down, Ginger Spice was about to make me o-face with the fucking quickness. But with that quickness came a goddamn consequence I thought I would never ever fucking believe.

"Baby, I'm gonna cum all up in your mizzle. You ready? You fucking ready for a cumsicle baby?" Prepare for blast off in 3, 2, 1...BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! I came sooooooo fucking hard that I thought I blew off this bitches head! I started to convulse and do the Harlem Shake while my dick was still in her mouth, then suddenly I fucking felt something...something warm and thick. Oh shit...no way. No fucking way. Mother fucking shit, no way?!

PUKE...this bitch started puking all over my cock, jeans and shoes. Mixed that in with probably what felt like 6 gallons of jizz in her mouth...what came from the depths of her inner linings looked like the inside of a goddamn dead corpse. I'm almost fucking positive she must have eaten Fettucini Alfredo at the Olive Garden because for some fucked up reason, I saw about a pound of noodles pitter pattering against my cock along with that zesty white sauce which by the way didn't resemble my cum. AT ALL. Don't ask me how I fucking know, I just fucking do assholes. But what's worse about this incident wasn't that Ginger McPuke was blowing chow all over my wank-diesel...oh, hell no. It's what happened 2 minutes later...

Realizing I had felt what was like one weeks worth of fucking puke on the lower half of my body, I became fucking ill. Not because of the rancid fucking smell or the scene of the crime, but because my fucking dick looked like it was dipped in a bucket of WHATTHEFUCK and was about to be fed to the goddamn sharks. Disgusted by this, I did the only thing one man could do who was covered in puke from the waist down...I puked right back on this bitch. All over the top of her fucking head. I was drinking since 7am. I swear on my gardener Jesus, I had at least 25 pints of Guinness, 10 Car Bombs and a shit ton of fried food that would make a fat man cum for 3 days straight. It was like a waterfall of puke all over this bitch. It was worse then the scene from Stand by Me when "Lard Ass" was in that pie eating contest. A sexual encounter gone horribly wrong. Two peeps covered in so much puke that one of the guys in the shitter next to us starting puking all over himself. I'm almost certain.

The worst part about all of this was what Ginger McFucked said after the puking subsided. She said and I quote, "I'm so sorry, but your cum tasted like beer and it surprised me. I'm so damn embarrassed." My cum tasted like beer? Really? And that's a bad thing? Bitch, I saw you take 3 car bombs while I was saying my speech to all the other bitches. You beer bonged at least 3 pints of Guinness like a champ. And it surprised you that my cum tasted like beer? Get the fuck outta here with that shit. I took one look at her, put my hand on her puke infested face and said, "Ginger, the way my cum tasted should be the least of your concern. You should worry about walking out of this bathroom and explaining to 498 other folks why it looks like an elephant took a shit all over you. I'm not sorry my cum tasted like wholesome goodness. You should take the back door, go home and clean yourself up. I'll be fine here."

She didn't say anything after that. She got up, puke all over her drunk ass self and bounced to never be seen again that day. What was a good idea ended up being a great idea. Not because my dick had throw up all over it, but because I came to the realization that if you drink ENOUGH beer, your cum will tastes like it. That shit is fucking awesome as fuck! Beer me motherfuckers!

Another one in the books for Mr. RING-A-DINGER.

A Night I Wish I Never Would Remember

It was the most awkward fucking moment I’ve ever had in my fucking life. No, I’m not talking about whiskey dick. Hell, I’m not even talking about under performing in the sack. I’m talking about my first threesome. With me, my buddy and this hot brunette we met at a bar one night. Fellas, ever been in a threesome with another dude and your dicks touch? If you haven’t, let me just tell you…it’s the most fucked up feeling in the world. Have a seat, this should be entertaining…

My buddy and I brought a chick back to my place to play two cocks and one vagina. Never in my life have I seen a broad so fucking eager to want to have a threesome. And never have I been so fucking excited to be in one. I’ll be honest, I wish it was with me and two other chicks but fuck…beggars can’t be choosers, right? Game time was under way…

There she was…drunk, horny and ready for two strangers to do some ground and pound on that ass and vagina. I pulled my buddy into the living room so we can establish some ground rules since this was my first time and all. Basically, I told him if we were gonna do this, we had to make a few things clear:

1) She’s sucking my dick first. I ain’t trying to get my dick sucked second then have her kiss me. Fuck all that. Last thing I want to do is taste your fucking cock in her mouth. Truth be told, I need to kiss a bitch because if she’s a good kisser, that tells me she’s gonna do a pretty good job giving dome. FACT.

2) Cum on her, not in her. We’re boys and I love you but bro, I ain’t trying to get your sticky icky on my fucking cock dude. That shit is just fucking gross.

3) It’s a threesome not a twosome, so don’t get greedy with the pussy. Friends share, motherfucker.

4) If you cum too early, there is no re-entry. Tough luck bitch.

5) No matter what, there will be NO SWORD CROSSING AND/OR TOUCHING. I have nothing against gays but if our dicks touch, I’m gonna freak the fuck out.

Five rules. Five simple fucking rules that I thought could be followed. A night that went sooo fucking right in the beginning, turned into an awkward fucking moment towards the end. Not for the chick…but for my buddy and I. Or should I say, me.

The threesome was like a perfectly written script. We were fucking, she was moaning and the earth was moving at a rapid pace. I don’t think I’ve ever hi-fived a friend more times in one night than I did that night. I’m telling you, this bitch was a fucking freak. One minute she was sucking and getting fucked, the next minute she was telling us to line up next to each other so she could squirt her version of Niagra fucking Falls onto our faces. Shit was going down, my room smelled like a butcher shop and this broad was giving and getting everything she asked for and wanted. Then it fucking happened…

Chick: “I want one of you to put it in my ass and the other in my pussy. Do it right now you hard dick mother fuckers. NOW!!!!”

It was those words that I knew this bitch didn’t fuck around. I mean, I should have known she was a goddamn freak when she was asking one of us to choke her while the other one was taking a belt and spanking her ass like it was full on child abuse for 25 fucking minutes. It was like we were doing some sort of naked gang initiation to this broad but she was calling all the fucking shots. So without any thought, my buddy gave me the signal he was going in for the brown eye while I go in for the good ‘ol vag. Within 5 minutes, mission accomplished. However two minutes after, shit went south…

There I am, going to town…pounding that shit like I was tenderizing meat. She’s screaming. We’re grunting. Shit is going down like a Jenna Jameson porn from 2002. Then in one outward dick pump, that moment of manliness, turned into the most fucked up moment of the night…our dicks touched. Full on, 100%, my dick and my buddy’s dick did one full dick stroke in stride. It was like synchronized swimming but for sex. Balls and everything. Gliding and touching as if we were holding hands, skipping in a field full of fucking daisies.

It was at that moment when his dick touched mine that my night was done. My penis that was so hard for so long shrunk into a Vienna Sausage instantly. Look, I’m no homophobe by any means, but when your laying down on your back, as a hot chick is riding you and all of the sudden you feel another cock rub up against yours…you’re gonna freak the fuck out. Especially if it’s your first time. Trust me, if I was a pro at this, I probably could have shrugged it off and kept going, but I couldn’t. My dick couldn’t. Everything inside me died. Rubbing dicks with my boy startled me so fucking bad that when my dick went limp, it looked like I jumped into a pool that was 42 degrees. Talk about scared, right? You try being the guy that pulls away from the horny broad and looks like your cock just turned into a fucking vagina. Not cool. At all. Thank fucking goodness she was at least a little drunk so she couldn’t notice (I think).

The only thing I could do at that moment was not say a thing and shoot straight to the bathroom. At that point, I didn’t even care if that chick was even thinking anything. I was just mad at the fact that my buddy was able to shrug it off and fuck her like it was the last piece of pussy he was ever going to bang. To his credit, he finished off the job and I’m pretty sure she came so hard she cried. Fucking asshole.

I spent those last moments in the bathroom giving myself a pep talk on how everything was going to be ok and that shit happens. Who the fuck does that? Who freaks out from a minor dick rub after 25 minutes then gets dick shrinkage that looks as if is hung like a toddler? This guy…that’s fucking who. I never had a threesome after that and promised myself if I were to ever do it again, it would have to be with two other chicks. I guess having another dick in the conversation isn’t my thing.

I bet I’ll forever be known as the guy that got baby dick after an innocent dick hi-five. Fuck that shit.This is fucked up!

Advice Column: "Almost Mr. Perfect"

Dear The RINGER,

Im a little confused and wanted to know what your thoughts were. I know you always have a comment to make and figured who better to ask!

I have been seeing a guy for about two months and he is great! He has the essentials; house, car, great job, no kids, no crazy ex-wife. He is sweet, considerate and treats me like a queen. He fucks like a beast and man handles me just as I desire. So what is it that I am confused about you ask? I am not trying to sound shallow at all, but he is definitely someone I would not double take on the street.

He's one of those guys that's not ugly, but he's not hot either. He is becoming cuter every time I see him and I really do like him but I still wonder if I am being too shallow about his appearance. I am hesitant to bring him around my friends and family because I know they are going to tell me I could do better. Though my friends have no room to talk about their signifigant others, believe me!

How do I get past this and will this feeling of shallowness go away? What would you do?

Thanks :)

Time to Shine



Dear Time to Shine,

Who gives a shit what anyone thinks? Are you fucking serious right now? You basically just fucking told the goddamn world that you found your "almost close to perfect" guy. Dude got his shit together, has no goddamn baggage/drama and fucks you so good, that you walk bowlegged for 5-7 days. Am I right? However, the issue you have isn't YOUR issue but your family and friends. That being, this mother fucker might be too ugly for you. Listen and listen really fucking good, because what I'm about to pop off is the straight up, goddamn truth.

STAY WITH THIS DUDE!!!! Here's why:

He's as close as to perfect as you're gonna get. Look sweet tits, you're happy. The only problem is, you care what the fuck other people think. If you didn't, then well, your fucking family and friends  would have already met the mother fucker and he'd be fucking you in your parents bedroom, while staying over for Christmas. True goddamn story.

FACT: You can't have the whole package. Life doesn't fucking work that way. If you got someone who's hot as hell and can pass for People Magazine's hottest mother fucker, then guess what? There's a 87% chance he's gonna treat you like shit because he's way more into his mother fucking self than you. If he has money AND looks, then he probably got kids...or herpes. If he has looks, kids and treats you like a queen...he's probably broke as fuck and lives with his parents. See, you can't fucking win. However, right now in this situation, YOU are W-I-N-N-I-N-G! Like my boy J-Wunder says, "Real fucking talk, son!"

So what you'd never do a double take on this guy in the streets. This dude is pounding your pussy like he's tenderizing fucking meat so what the fuck does it matter? He's not ugly, but he's not hot either. Ummm, sweet tits, not sure if you noticed, but if looks were everything to you, you wouldn't be A) Giving this cat the time of day and B) Letting him pulverize your goddamn pussy, baby girl! You following this shit?! Where is my economy size bottle of baby powder?! Where goddamnit?!

You're concerned that if you introduce your "almost perfect" guy to your friends and family, they are going to straight up tell you, "You can do waaaaaay better"...which only means, "You could date a way better looking man." This bothers you and you can't let it. Fuck, you better NOT let it. Last time I checked, looks don't pay for cars, houses, having a job, etc. I'm guessing you're a hot little number so having this guy tied to your arm might be a shock to those close to you. Hey, shit fucking happens and remember he's fucking you, not them.

You pointed out what you're feeling is shallow and without a fucking doubt, it is shallow. Only because you care what the fuck others might think. But realize and recognize that if you put the looks aside, you're happy. Shit, your ass almost might be sprung as fuck! You're with a guy that's "almost perfect". And since I'm a fucking dude and know this shit like dicks in vaginas, I'm gonna let you know the only reason why he's "almost perfect", is for the simple fact that your family and friends are convincing you (inside your head) to believe that you deserve something just above this guy that beats your pussy up like a Rodney King riot. Because if this wasn't the case my friend, he'd be perfect. Something EVERY goddamn woman wishes they fucking had..."that perfect guy".

FACT: Women don't waste time on dudes if they don't see something good in them. Now whatever that "good" is, is subjective but, like I said, women don't waste time because they feel they don't have time to waste. Well, unless they are just sluts and whores who just want to fuck anything and everybody. Those are my kind of bitches. But this isn't about me. This is about you and waking the fuck up and introducing your "perfect guy" to your family and friends. Trust me sugar lips, when you grow the hard ass nipples to do it, you'll feel better about it. And if everyone does have something to say about who you're dating, tell them to go fuck themselves. Why? Because no one fucks you quite like Cute Cock Magee over here.

Don't fuck up perfect because you might never find that shit again,

The RINGER

Check yo ass, bro

What seemed like a routine trip to the shitter, ended up being life changing.

FACT: People take shits.

FACT: Shit smells...like shit.

FACT: Some shit smells worse than others.

Three simple facts that I can absolutely tolerate. But on this day, this very day on my journey to the Men's bathroom, that all changed...

I saw you. Yeah you, bro. 6'3". 220 pounds. Could eat a whole fucking goat if he wanted to. I made my way to the pisser as you exited. I entered soon after, then I saw my life flash before my goddamn eyes.

I've smelled dookie before. However, this...this was mother fucking unbearable. It was like I walked into a wall of diarrhea, while snowballs made of a sumo wrestler's shit were being thrown in my fucking face. First thought, "WTF...goddamn mother fucker. I need to leave." Only one problem...the other bathroom is an elevator ride down...AND I had to piss so damn bad that if I walked 10 more steps, I'd have to say the sink exploded for my pants being all wet. FAIL. So I sacked up and dealt with it...FML.

People, I've never smelled anything like this. A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G. If I could describe it, I would. But there are no words. Only pure and utter shock and silence. Worse than a mother fucker dying. Just note, that any human being that can take a shit like that and make a person speechless needs to do the following:

- Don't eat. Ever again.

- See a doctor. I don't know if you ate a human body and it never digested, but you better check you son of a bitch. Something is terribly wrong with your insides.

- Stop drinking malt liquor. I can't describe what your shit smelled like, but one thing I do know, there was a hint of Olde English in that mother fucker. Stop that shit. Please.

- Exercise. You're probably asking, "Me? Exercise? Why?" Well for starters, your shit doesn't smell right, bro. Matter of fact, it smelled so fucking bad, I felt like I got maced, lost my equilibrium AND singed all my fucking nose hairs off. So yeah, exercise mother fucker. Get your insides to do something other than collect shit and marinate for hours in that goddamn stomach of yours.

- Do a cleanse, enema or something. I don't know if you are fucking anyone but...actually, I know you aren't fucking anybody with a asshole like that. Release the demons son. Your asshole needs a goddamn exorcism. True fucking story.

134 seconds of my life died today. All because some fucking dude I work with, took a shit so bad it made me cry, contemplate life and wonder why mother fuckers like this dude, exist. Every time I see him go to the bathroom now, I'm either gonna 1) Piss in my pants or 2) Piss on his desk.

I'm going for the latter.

Dear Hater...

Dear Hater,

I hope this letter finds you well. Actually, no I don’t you fucking hater. So hey, I got a question for you…what the fuck is your goddamn problem? How come you can’t lighten the fuck up? For fuck’s sake, you realize 53% of America hates you motherfuckers, right? What did any of us non-haters do to you?

Were you not hugged enough as a kid or something? Why do you gotta hate on everything? Is it our fault you haven’t been laid and you’re 35 years old living in your parents basement? Don’t blame us, motherfuckers, blame your parents for giving birth to something that looks like a retarded fucking ostrich with tourette's.

Lemme guess…you’re mad because the ideas your friends or others had are better than yours? Well, ain’t that a bitch. Stop kidding yourself, you don’t have ideas. You’re too fucking stupid to have ideas. How do we know? Well, considering your Facebook statuses sound like a foreign exchange student trying to read the English Dictionary, we’re pretty sure you’re a fucking idiot. But hey, “you don’t give a fuck…you keep it real”, right? Please motherfucker, spare the air and die already.

Wanna know why no one likes you? Because bottom line, you’re a fucking hater. You know what God hates more than a fucking pussy? A fucking hater. That's right. You = Hater. As the world goes about their day and actually enjoys life, there you are…hating the fuck away. Trying to make sure everyone is miserable so you can get a good laugh. That’s funny, only because when we ignore you, you try harder…and harder…so damn hard that it eats at you. Every day. Every fucking night. How does it feel to have two jobs? You know, sucking your dads dick to make sure he leaves you something good in the Will and Hating? We all know you don’t have a real job. Why? Because you are the most socially awkward motherfucker, that’s why. And for some strange reason, it has led you to hate...EVERYBODY.

How do you do it? What’s the motivation? I bet it was the failed Rapture, huh? Actually, I’m almost 100% positive it was the failed Rapture that brought you haters out in full effect. Well let me tell you and the other 47% of you fucking haters something…KEEP HATING. Keep hating motherfuckers because at the end of the day, the 53% will still be better than you, still get more ass, still have more friends, still make people laugh, still live drama free and still eat bacon (with syrup bitch). All because the shit that keeps you sons of bitches awake at night, doesn’t mean shit to us.

You’re reading this and saying, “I’m a hater, you’re a fucking hater for writing this column”. No, no, no my fucktastic hater friend...I'm not hating. I'm stating a goddamn fact. A fact that says you, slap dick, are a piece of shit and could go fuck a goat for all we care.

So in sum, lighten the fuck up or keep hating. Your choice. Regardless, the 53% will go about their day enjoying life and living drama free. Just know that while you sit there, all pouty and shit, with your 10 cats that smell like fucking sweaty ass feet, while playing 22 non-stop, action packed hours of Call of Duty. Does that make you angry? Sad? Frustrated? I hope it does. I really fucking do. Cunt.  

Oh, and one last thing...go fuck yourself.

Thanks,

53% of Awesomeness, Bitch

The Case of the Monday's

 92% of Americans hate Monday's. Adults, children, college students, dead people...shit, even the mother fucking Pope hates Monday's. Why? Because it's the beginning of the goddamn week. It's the peanut butter without the jelly. It's the orgasm without the O-face. It's the goddamn slip n' slide without the water. It's fucking Monday people...the day where 92% of Ameri...fuck that...92% of the WORLD, wants the slap the shit out of somebody...for no fucking reason...AT ALL.

Look, I'm a morning person (kinda)...all day everyday. But on Monday's, I'm a "don't talk to me unless you want to get stabbed in the fucking eye with a #2 pencil" kind of person. I don't know why...I just am. It's as if God is playing a sick fucking joke on the majority of the world while he's up in heaven, getting a blow job and smoking a fatty cigar or something. Hey man, that shit's not cool and it ain't right.

The worst is when you have those chipper "high on life" mother fuckers that, no matter what, act as if everyday is Friday. Why so happy guy? Did you get laid this morning? Got an amazing bj? Maybe you ate some shit that cures "The Case of the Monday's"? Please tell me and the rest of the fucking world why you are so goddamn happy right now?! I'm dying to hear this shit.

The best are the questions that these chipper ass people love to ask: Hey dipshit, does it look like I wanna tell you about my weekend? No asshole, I don't want to try your grandma's burnt ass cookies. What am I doing for lunch later? Hmmm...probably telling you to go fuck yourself. I HATE MONDAY'S and right now, I really hate your ass.

It's a disease a majority of us can't get rid of. There's no cure for it other than alcohol. And who wants to drink heavily on a Monday just to feel like shit on a Tuesday? Wait...that doesn't sound too fucking bad, right? Anyway...

Why can't work weeks be three days with naps in between. Shit, if not naps...booze breaks. If not booze breaks, sex breaks. If not sex breaks, leave me the fuck alone for an hour, breaks. Can you tell I hate fucking Monday's?

"The Case of the Monday's"...I have them...real fucking bad. Don't act like you don't because if you didn't, you belong in the top 8% of fucking weird OR don't have a fucking job.

Happy 4th of Ju-RUUUUUNK

I love holidays. I love everything about them. But there is no other holiday that I love more than the 4th of July. Yessir! The weather, the bbq's, the friends and family. It's an amazing fucking day. But the two things I love the most about the 4th of July are: 1) Booze. 2) Fireworks. Put those two together...and we have ourselves a really fucking fun party.

Have any of you ever gotten drunk and fucked around with fireworks? Well I have, and let me tell ya, it's the most amazing and scariest fucking thing you'll ever experience. Take last year for example...

I was at the beach. Was there since 6am. Drinking. A lot. Not to look like a complete piece of shit, I started my morning off with some Bloody Mary's. Around 9am, I moved to Mimosa's. 10:30am, beer. By noon I was taking body shots off some old ass cougars who were camped out next to us. I would say it was awkward but those old bitches were fucking hiz-ooooot. I'm only saying this because I'm fucking single and need some pussy...BAD. Anyway, I was drunk. Really, really fucking trashed. Like newborn baby drunk. You know...when you can't open your eyes and feel like you're blind. Yeah, that kinda drunk.

By 8pm, the sun came and left, and as for me...I was ready to blow up some shit. So I pulled out some fireworks. Not your gay ass sparklers or Piccolo Pete's either. I'm talking about some mother fucking bottle rockets and the always amazing, Roman Candles. Imagine me...half fucking naked...drunk...with some illegal shit in my hand...looking to blow up the goddamn sky. One word: Awesome! So awesome that instead of shooting them in the sky like a normal fucking human being, I did something better. I lit those fucking things up and just started shooting them...AT PEOPLE. That's right..I was THAT guy.

To the chick who's number I was trying to get all damn day at the beach...fuck you, hope you like this bottle rocket right between your milky tits - BOOM!

To the douche bag that only got knee high in the water because he was afraid to get his hair wet...hair product + explosives = YOU'RE FUCKED BUDDY - KA-BLIZ-OW!

To the two hot ass cougs that I was taking shots off of, and making out with, pretty much all fucking day...who still gives hickey's to people? This Roman Candle has botoxed vagina written all over it - TA-DOW all up in yo BIZ-NASS!

Guys, I was waaaaaasted. So smashed that I started shooting mother fuckers with fireworks...for like 30 goddamn minutes. Hot chicks, old chicks, douche bags, moms, dads, children, life guards. Anyone that got in my path of destruction...hasta la vista bitches. Then the cops came...

Me: "Ocifer, fuck man...I don't wanna die."

Po-po: "Son, you aren't gonna die, you're going to jail though."

Me: "I swear, I didn't mean to, I'm just sooooo fucking drunk. My whore of a girlfriend fucked some other chick (yes, the bitch fucked another chick...a stripper actually) and I'm taking it out on booze and innocent children."

Po-po: "We need to take you to jail son. I'm sorry."

It was right then and there that I knew, if I didn't do something fast, I was seriously going to be fucked. Both in life and by the big ass dude named Francis in a 8 x 8 cell. So what did I do...

I PISSED MYSELF...In front of every fucking body.

I have never seen a look of disgust from so many people...even the police. But I had to. I had to do something because for starters, I had no clue where any of my clothes were...and second, I forgot what town I was in. That's how fucked up I was. Oh and by the way, thanks to my fuck face friends who stood back and laughed at me the whole damn time. You guys can go fuck a rock. Dicks.

Me: "I'm sorry ocifer, I can't control myself. I'm scared. Please let me go."

Po-po: "Son, we'll let you go, but we have to site you for public intoxication and urination."

Me: "God bless you men in blue." 

That's all I got guys. A slap on the hand and a fucking ticket. That my friends...is a goddamn mother fucking win!

So what's the moral of my story?

The 4th of July is awesome. Get drunk, make out with whoever you fucking want, and blow up shit. But if and when you get caught by the police and are about to go to jail...piss yourself...just don't shit yourself. That's just fucking gross. Yessir!

Happy 4th, you fuck faces!