Category Archives: funny

2016 Race to the White House

Early campaign polling decided today that Donald Trump will be our next president, a full year and a half before we had to go to elections. I guess the only question is if Trump-care will cover the cost of the therapy we will need after 5.5 years of conspiracy theories and smear campaigns, which begins tomorrow with coverage of the 2016 presidential race. (But as is my way, I have begun coverage even more prematurely than other networks because I know America, and if there’s one thing we never get sick of, it’s pointless bickering and hearing me talk and elections) Early polling suggests Al Gore’s spirit medium leading for the libs and a life size printout of the Monopoly Man for the GOP.

Rush Limbaugh dropped a bomb on his listeners when he formally endorsed the medium after discovering he was actually richer and whiter than his cartoon counterpart, but only convinced 18% of his audience to abandon their pre-fabricated political opinions if favor of his new insights because 82% of them fell asleep while waiting for their nurses to bring them more butterscotch hard candies and a fresh oxygen tank. Rachel Maddow on the other hand set a new world record for witty and poignant comments in a five minute news segment which probably would have raised America’s collective consciousness and beckoned us into a glorious new era of utopian values and world peace, but unfortunately only John Stewart’s interns saw any of it because she works at the bottomless pit of boredom more commonly known as MSNBC.

Among the many hot topics for this campaign is the dreary economy. With headlines telling the sad tale of the last home in America being foreclosed on, and unemployment up this month to 732%, many folks on main street are wondering just where to look for help with their financial woes. The Monopoly Man’s plan for rekindling the sweet flame of American excess and wealth lies in a savvy combination of burning poor people to power new military bases and overseeing nigh-omnipotent corporations with what he has titled, “the honor system”. In a strange twist of irony the progressive candidate countered the Monopoly Man with his new plan to print worthless money but make it more colorful so nobody would realize he wants to spend six times the net profits of Earth on additional welfare benefits which would reward the uneducated for having as many children as possible, and set aside significant funding for a massive ad campaign pleading with voters to both forget how math works and ignore the fact that nobody gives a crap about the underlying social problems that cause multiple-generation poverty cycles in the first place.

Meanwhile in San Francisco, the spirit medium had to drop out of the race completely to spend his days tazering joggers and bikers who carelessly stomp around the trails of his local park where he was pretty sure he saw an endangered lizard last week. Sources close to him suspect a nervous breakdown due to his realization that wind energy might be causing global air stagnation due to the exploitation of free range wind by windmills. Many American socialists hope the spirit medium will be replaced in the race by Anderson Cooper’s Twitter account, but it only leads by three points, followed closely by the general inability of the left to congeal into an effective political unit or agree on anything ever. Conservatives have taken all of this as a sign that American Jesus is on their side in this election, and are super excited that he will obviously be backing their holy war against the ignorant and violent Muslim jihadists.

This has been a Broken News Update, for MSFOX, this is Josh wishing you all good luck and good grief with the coming election.

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America In Peril: College Students Dangerously Funny

In what can only be described as the most offensive display of racism since everyone realized Kramer wasn’t actually funny, some students from the University of California at San Diego have whipped their collective pee-organs out and defiled the sanctity of black history month. According to a report by news giant MomLogic.com, students threw a, “ghetto-themed party called the Compton Cookout” where, “guys were encouraged to wear chains and high top tennis shoes and girls were encouraged to be ghetto-chicks with gold teeth and wear cheap clothes”. Even more shockingly, reports would indicate that most, if not all of these students were not black people.

The party was unsanctioned by the school, and was held off campus, but may have been attended by members of at least three fraternities. I find it utterly disturbing that members of the respected social class consisting of college fraternity members could behave in such a rude or thoughtless manner, as all of my previous experiences with frat boys have reflected the utmost moral caliber.

The Vice Chancellor is heading up an investigation into the serious misconduct carried out within the law and outside of her jurisdiction with a fervor I can only describe as inspiring. The V.C. was quoted as saying, “Our obvious initial concern was abated when we discovered that the party consisted of white students merely pretending to be poor black people. However, after numerous complaints from the you-know-whos and a bunch of mommies, we’ve officially changed our stance to that of disbelief and repulsion. We fully understand that [Black History Month] is an institution of the utmost importance and respect, and not at all an empty gesture meant to shut people up.”

I for one agree with the Vice Chancellor, it is so nice to get a break from those obnoxious disaster relief and ASCPA commercials for a month, and focus on these historically heroic figures that everyone certainly wasn’t already familiar with by the fifth grade. What an amazing idea, to dedicate a month to occasional television blurbs. I enjoy it almost as much as when I have to go to work on Martin Luther King Jr. day every year.

In fact I am so convinced this is a great idea I think we should step up as a country and take it a step farther. I’ve compiled a few more racist offenders who need to be investigated and tried, or at the least publicly humiliated for their racially charged stereotype crimes.

Lil John, I mean Jon

What a dickhead. This racist mother fucker is brimming so full of stereotypes he’s one pointy white hat away from completing his track suit of hate. He misspells his name, his grammar is horrible, he’s toting more gold accessories than Mr. T’s jeweler, and what the fuck is that in his mouth? Why would he mock black people like this? Frankly, I’m offended.

Are you kidding me? What kind of clansmen crapfest is this? That white guy who looks like Ving Rhames is clearly saying all black people carry guns. And why is there a share cropper at the bottom left? Just because watermelons are delicious and everyone loves eating them doesn’t mean it’s ok to say black people love eating watermelons. Go burn a cross you douchebags. As if Dolemite would appear in a movie making fun of his own peoples stereotypes, get real.

Listen actual black people from Compton, and one white guy with a 40 oz.: just because you are successful, black people who actually are from Compton doesn’t mean you get to wear gold chains, and high tops, or get gold teeth, or wear cheap clothing. That’s racist. Most especially during a month that celebrates outstanding black people who have contributed to black culture and history. Outstanding people like Ice Cube, and Easy E. Or people like Dr. Dre and the many successful black people he’s discovered during his reign as media mogul, such as Snoop Doggy Dog, or Eminem. If you keep that kind of behavior up, not only will you get kicked out of the college you never attend, but you’ll never amount to anything like the world famous entertainers you are today.

America, today is the day we need to come together and stand united. Some people may say that the only reason parties like this are considered offensive, is because the offendees have little to no sense of humor or reality. This is simply not the case. If we can’t force everyone in our country to stop propagating racial stereotypes then you know what? We’re all racist, and I for one want to live in a colorblind society, where everything is black and white. Good night and good luck.

More Like the Blowlympics

So my woman decided to write a post about how hating the Olympics doesn’t mean you aren’t patriotic, and since I haven’t felt very inspired to write anything for a few years or so, I figured I’d like to get in on that. Despite the fact that Torontonians apparently feel not supporting the Olympics is unpatriotic, I don’t know anyone around here who likes them. True, most of my friends are alcoholics, criminals, and white trash, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t a legitimate representation of everyone in America. Let’s quickly review the basics shall we?

1) The Olympics are boring. Watching them is like watching reruns of CSPAN. I would rather do chores around the house wearing a suit of fiberglass insulation than watch the Olympics. I would rather listen to Rosanne and Fran Drescher argue about yesterday’s episode of the View than watch the Olympics.

2) Almost all Olympic sports, challenging as they may be, are not spectator sports. Everyone knows figure skating sucks. Ski jumping may be scary, but if you see one jump you’ve pretty much got the idea. If you’re a dick like me and you enjoy people wrecking badly, it almost never happens. (Too soon for a luger pun?) Even the relatively exciting sports of BMX or Karate are still way lamer than watching a non-Olympic version like the X-Games or the UFC.

3) What the hell is bandy? I realize I live in a warm climate and ice sports aren’t popular, but seriously? The same thing goes for basque pelota, korfball, and boules. I may be an ignorant American, but I would argue that sports shouldn’t even be considered for a world tournament unless they are popular in more than two countries. What’s next, life saving? Oh wait, that’s an Olympic sport too. Being a lifeguard is NOT a sport, I don’t care how many boobs were on Bay Watch.

So now that I have irrefutably proven that the Olympics generally blow, let’s move on to how that applies to me being patriotic. Let me first start by explaining that I’m not patriotic in the traditional sense of actually being loyal to my country. Here are just a few things I hate about America: everyone who runs it, guidos, Fox News, people who insist America is the best country in the world without knowing anything about the world, the fact that Top Gear is filmed somewhere else, and public service announcements. (Seriously, shut up Hollywood)

However, this doesn’t mean there aren’t a ton of great things that have come out of America that I enjoy taking credit for when talking to foreigners. So if you think I’m unpatriotic, well fuck you. Here’s a list of amazing shit I or someone related to me probably were responsible for.

Look at this guy!

Grizzly Adams: He tamed fucking bears. I can only assume he settled for grizzly bears in the absence of wild dragons. Also he owned one of the coolest coat-beard combos in the history of mankind.

Rock and Roll: While the debate over who technically invented rock and roll is one that will never be agreed upon, (see Beatles vs Elvis if you’re an idiot) the fact remains that America has contributed a lot to Rock and Roll over the years. And while lots of my favorite bands are not home grown, a whole lot of them are. Skynyrd, Aerosmith, Van Halen, Metallica, Motley Crue, Guns N’ Roses, Disturbed, Green Day, Sublime, 311, Rage Against the Machine; the list goes on and on but I’m tired of copying crap from Wikipedia. The point is that without downplaying the contribution of the rest of the world, we’ve done some face melting rocking over the years.

The Ultimate Fighting Championship: I don’t give a flying crap where martial arts come from, the UFC is a great American institution. I was always bored with sports (like the Olympics) and never enjoyed playing or watching any until I experienced mixed martial arts in an octagon fence/cage. If you haven’t seen it and have a penis, please fix one or the other. That crap is the shit. Who doesn’t like insane men willingly (or unwillingly) jumping in a cage and beating the life blood out of each other? Pussies, that’s who, and pussies stink.

Suck it world.

Man on the Moon: Face it, it was a race, to the moon, and we won. I don’t care if the USSR cloned a dinosaur/minotaur beast and puts a damn army of them on the moon, we still got a man there first, and that’s damn cool. Next race, put a man on the sun. If any country can beat us there Niel Armstrong will look like Pauly Shore if he hadn’t made Biodome. (You know that shit was funny, don’t even lie. Unless you never smoked weed, and then it probably wasn’t funny, but that’s your own fault not his)

Porn: After a lengthy break from blogging I’m back to report the ol’ USA produces more porn than any other country on earth. (I didn’t happen across any provable facts during my break, so sue me) If Faith up there can’t give you a few great reasons why porn is awesome, then I sure as hell can’t explain it in a way you will understand. If that is the case think of it like physics, and then just understand I’m pretty much Einstein when it comes to this topic. (That’s why I’m on the internet instead of out there in real life somewhere.)

Anheuser-Bush: The number one seller of beer on the planet. Sure there are a lot of other companies and countries that make much better beer, but that doesn’t change a thing. They actually are the king of beers. For all you beer snobs out there, there’s a reason such watery swill is dominating the planet. Poor people like drinking too, and for the price they actually deliver a good quality beverage. Also a little known fact about Budweiser for all you Heineken fans out there: if you accidentally leave a Budweiser under your car seat in the middle of the dog days of summer for three days and it doesn’t explode from the heat, it tastes exactly like Heineken. It’s probably not safe to drink, but I did once and it was delicious once I got it chilled down.

As you can see America has a lot of great things I enjoy, unfortunately none of them are on the Olympics. While it is true that one great thing about our country is that everyone except the Tea Party people usually make room for other folks to enjoy things they don’t support, the fact remains that the Olympic Games are exactly like the state of the union address, no matter how important it’s supposed to be, it’s still not as good as the regularly scheduled programming. That’s what highlight reels are for.

Bat Out of Hell

Sometimes my life feels like one long ass practical joke on me. Like there really is a God, but he’s not that benevolent triforce they keep talking about on the 700 club. The God in my life is a teenage prick and spends all the time in which he’s not masturbating, sending unpleasant events into my life. Sometimes the bad events are traumatic, like going to jail. Sometimes the bad events are more a general sense of dread and failure, like my alcoholism. Or sometimes they seem like direct attacks, out of my control, like when I got laid off in July because I was the only person at my branch without children or a mortgage.

But sometimes, more often than I would like, these events take an incredibly literal form. The other day I went over to my parents house to visit with my aunt one last time before she left for Pennsylvania and I wouldn’t see her again for months or possibly years. I had a great visit, we talked about all the things that have been going on in everyone’s lives. Aunt Val is always a laugh riot, and my parents drink more when she’s around, so by the end of the night everyone is always feeling good and having a ball.

And so I headed out, feeling great and ready to get home so I could have a few drinks of my own. Normally I would put in my headphones so I could listen to my iPod on the drive home, but I was thinking about the ice cold beer in the fridge and completely forgot about my music. Instead I left my headphones tucked in my shirt collar, hanging down inside my shirt on my chest.

One of the bad things about driving a scooter (of which there are many) is that after you’ve driven one for a few years you tend to zone out a little bit while driving down familiar stretches of road. The roads in my part of town are all but empty late on a Saturday night, so I get to take up a whole lane instead of white knuckling the curb as angry motorists whiz past. And I already have every bump and manhole memorized anyway. I was relaxing, cruising along by myself and enjoying the cool evening air and the smells of cut grass and flowers.

All of the sudden a brand new obstacle flew into the meager shine of my headlights. With no time to react, I recognized it as fresh squirrel roadkill. I couldn’t swerve, I couldn’t respond at all. My only choice was to fly right over top of the ground-beef-like remains and hope for the best. Now this isn’t normally a problem. In fact I routinely hit roadkill because I ride as far over as I can so less people will try to kill me in their gigantic, impatient vehicles. Generally I won’t even feel a squirrel due to the compacting of repeatedly being ran over. Deer pose a serious problem, but I’ve even hit animals as large as raccoons and possums without incident.

This was not one of those times. Teenage God was sitting in the clouds watching and laughing his ass off like he had just left a flaming bag of dog crap on my front porch. This squirrel was fresh. As I heard the thump-thump of the corpse under my tires I saw what appeared to be a bat out of hell. A seemingly huge chunk of rotting meat flew into the air directly in front of my face. I watched in slow-motion horror as it spun forward, then slowed. As life slammed back into real time, the carnage before me lost forward momentum, caught the wind, and slung back directly into my chest.

It’s only in moments like this that you find out exactly what kind of man you are. Are you the kind of man who epitomizes chest hair and who drinks whiskey without making a stupid face, or are you a shrimp-dicked little girly man who sleeps with a night light and names his pet goldfish Lolly Pop? I am, unfortunately, the latter it would seem.

As I felt the thud directly in the center of my sternum, it took every ounce of gristle in my body to keep myself from completely losing control of my vehicle and crashing in a fiery blaze, leaving behind only a sad epitaph about how wimpy I am to remember me by. I swerved erratically and flailed wildly at my chest. Unable to determine whether or not mangled animal parts were hanging off me I pulled into the next shopping center parking lot.

Without taking my helmet off I started brushing my chest again. Unable to see my chest with my helmet on, I realized in horror there was a lump on my chest under my shirt! Holy shit, the meat had flown down my collar and was stuck to my bare chest, most likely teeming with ebola, rodent aids, and spina bifida. I don’t need to know what spina bifida is to be afraid of it. I’ve seen Fox News, I’ve watched Glenn Beck, I know freaking out before you know what you’re facing is not only good for you, it’s patriotic!

Ripping my helmet off I clutched at my chest, trying to dislodge the sickening lump of what can only be pure leprosy by now. And that’s when I remembered I had forgotten about my music and I was standing in the middle of a parking lot in suburbia frantically trying to dislodge my own headphones.

As some of the adrenaline started to ebb and my heart slowed down to the level of a small dog on meth I tried to gather my senses. Did I piss myself in terror? No. Good. Was the roadkill still on me anywhere else? … No. Good. Is my scooter intact? Holy shit the pice of shit that hit me is still there! Oh sweet lord it’s so big and disgusting!

Turns out the wad of deceased squirrel had bounced harmlessly off my chest and landed in between my legs. After grossing out for another minute or so at the thought of catching some zombie movie STD from roadkill near my dick I decided I had better just wad it up in an old receipt, throw it at a nearby Hummer2 and go get drunk. I may not have had the coolest head in my unexpected, stressful situation, but I can at least say I didn’t scream like a girl (I don’t think) and I did manage to stay on the road and upright. That’s close enough to a victory for me.

Geisha is … Awesome!

You know those rare moments in life where you find something on the internet that’s truly amazing. Something other people NEED to know about. Like when you realize all the old Mario games are available for free, or the first time you see 2 girls 1 cup? Well I recently ran across one of those rare gems on Robert Popper’s blog, which is brim full of hysterically bizarre clips from around the globe.

It’s a robot gore movie titled Robogeisha. I’m not really sure how to describe it honestly. The basic premise is that there are a bunch of android geisha ninjas that run around killing people in bizarre only-the-Japanese-would-ever-think-of-this scenarios. I’ve probably seen this trailer fifteen times now. I keep going back and finding new weird shit. Here’s a very short list of the weird things I remember:

-a ninja girl covered in dildos popping out of another girl

-acidic breast milk

-death by shrimp

-a circular saw (not a chainsaw) popping out of someones mouth

-butt swords and armpit swords

-bleeding skyscrapers

Of course the geniuses behind a masterpiece like this would be at fault to limit the public to just one work of art. Enter Machine girl, the story of a one armed girl who cut a LOT of arms off. Some of the other trailers were weirder than this one, but this one at least kind of made sense. And who doesn’t love an amputee with a chainsaw and a gatling gun that strap on their nub?

And last but not least comes the classic love story Tokyo Gore Police. That is, if you love watching cops who look like Darth Vader getting chopped to pieces by genetically engineered mutants. Mutants such as a naked chick with a crocodile head for legs, a guy who walks like a spider cause he has swords for appendages, a man with machine guns for eyes, and a dude with a giant gatling gun arm that shoots fists. And frankly, who doesn’t love that.

I WILL be watching these movies at some time in the future. For every pedophiliac anime the Japanese produce, they make five awesome gore movies to redeem their culture. If only Chuck Norris would get in on this bizarre violence trend, Hollywood could go ahead and throw in the towel, because nobody would ever watch anything else again.

The Carport of Babel

There are times in a mans life where he takes on a task, nay, a mighty quest. This arduous undertaking consumes him, pushing him to his limits in the ultimate attempt to make himself a legend among men. A hero of sorts. And almost without fail, in the real world at least, men underestimate how impossibly fucking hard this task will be once it’s started and there’s no turning back.

My quest is building a place to live. My brother and I decided to close in his carport making it into a new laundry room and a large bedroom for me to live in, and after I move a new living room or possibly game room for their house. We looked at this old carport and said to ourselves, we know how to measure and cut things. We like using power tools. We’ve both worked construction and maintenance jobs for many years. This should be well within the comfortable bounds of our almost limitless knowledge of how to make things. So with our spirits high and our giant hairy balls swinging low, we started tearing shit apart and building walls. As it turns out, we only half way know how to build a house. And we most certainly don’t know how to build a house to government standards.

You see what happened was, we forgot one very important factor when evaluating our personal skills. Both of us have built a lot of crap, and learned a lot of things, but every job we’ve ever had has been some jack-of-all-trades bullshit, where the main focus was on *ahem* jerry-rigging the living hell out of whatever we were fixing. So I can guarantee I can build a functional house that never leaks or falls over, but when it comes to making sure the town of Garner building inspectors agree about my methods, well, that’s a whole different slice of pie now isn’t it.

But who needs professional or expert knowledge, we decided to wing it anyway, and have been met with nothing but trouble ever since. We spent an entire day moving the top of one exterior wall one inch so it would match up properly with the preexisting trim wood. We’ve found unbelievable things wrong with the house. A large section of the roof had the rafters completely unattached, possibly from a large limb falling on it. One corner of the carport was held up by nothing but a four by four, gravity, and paint. Seriously, we jacked it up to build a wall, and the post fell out, not attached in any way to either the roof, or the small cement wall it was sitting on. One man with a sledgehammer, or say, a CAR, could have collapsed the end of the house. And yet our inspection fails because we accidentally used 3/8ths inch bolts instead of half inch bolts. Suck a dick inspector man, you know good and well that wall wasn’t going anywhere. (shakey fist with extra !!!!!!!)

So anyway. Nobody besides us gives a crap about the details of our work. Let me just say that we’ve pretty much all been busting our collective asses in the middle of a very muggy summer to try and get this project done, and though our balls are still just as huge as ever, our spirits are all sinking a little lower as the weeks go by. We’ll get this bastard built eventually, but for now nobody has much energy for things like, oh, blogging regularly. Even my first love, pornography, has been seeing less of me lately. Oh yeah, and the woman too, don’t forget the woman!

(By the way it’s very hard to focus on writing when your woman is sitting next to your rough draft on the computer screen, deep throating a popsicle. Who am I kidding, I didn’t even try splitting my attention.)

So screw it, this is what it looks like.

This was the corner being frighteningly held up by one single 4x4 with no screws or nails whatsoever.

This was the corner being frighteningly held up by one single 4x4 with no screws or nails whatsoever.

No one was injured in my tool rage.

No one was injured in my tool rage.

This is called labor fuel, which weve been consuming in large quantities. Because, you know, power tools and alcohol are never a bad thing to mix.

This is called labor fuel, which we've been consuming in large quantities. Because, you know, power tools and alcohol are never a bad thing to mix.

This would be our former exterior wall, also the location of the rafters holding up the ceiling that were completely unattached.

This would be our former exterior wall, also the location of the rafters holding up the ceiling that were completely unattached.

You can only immagine how packed it is now that we also brought down everything in our attic to instal a new HVAC system.

You can only immagine how packed it is now that we also brought down everything in our attic to instal a new HVAC system.

Getting close to done. ON THE OUTSIDE! Mwahahahaha!

Getting close to done. ON THE OUTSIDE! Mwahahahaha!

After working it is necessary to cover your head with a liquor bag, and make your best preggers tummy.

After working it is necessary to cover your head with a liquor bag, and make your best preggers tummy.

At Last

So it’s been a full year since My woman and I have been able to see each other, and just when I’m starting to worry the internet has run out of porn, she flies down for a ten day vacation. Besides the sheer fact that I finally get to knock boots again, which was kind of blowing my mind, but on top of that I haven’t had ten whole consecutive days of not-working for many many years. It was really nice, to say the least. By the end of the first weekend I was all rested up and ready to go back to work, and I figured by the end of another week I would be going stark raving mad from boredom. As it turns out though, by the end of my vacation I was ready for another vacation to rest up from the first vacation, and cursing every minute of work all day Monday. Apparently I get spoiled easy. I hope I can retire one day because laying around all the time doing whatever you feel like is fucking awesome. It was like if a damn Jimmy Buffet song mated with a Bob Marley song.

I deserved a break though, because I had been working fourteen hour days for the last few weeks, coming home from my daytime manual labor duties and spending the evening working on my brother’s house until ten or eleven every night. I want a new place to live so I decided to build one with him. We’re closing in his carport and making it into a big ass bedroom and a new laundry room. And let me tell you, nobody loves playing around with power tools more than me, but even I get burned out when I work too much. (more on the project in the next post)

So we rented a hotel for the first few nights, so we could have plenty of privacy for the explicit section of our time together, and let me tell you, I friggin love Hotels. The only thing that would have made it better would have been if I was off probation and could toke up on some of the dank ass ganja we had, and if they had smoking rooms, because trooping my lazy ass downstairs and outside every time I wanted a stoagie was kind of lame. I had to put on pants and everything. We also discovered that boobs do float in water, as long as they are natural.

Why is it that people on vacation always eat the most unhealthy shit ever?

Why is it that people on vacation always eat the most unhealthy shit ever?

I gave Emerald some of the good old southern treatment, making sure some of our activities exposed her to life in the dirty south. I took her grocery shopping at the Super Walmart, the Mecca of white trash. I absolutely love Walmart, it’s like heaven but with more fat people, but she’s not such a big fan. In fact she hates Walmart. But with me as her sherpa she didn’t hate it so much, and even had a little bit of fun. I guess America really does have more fat people than other countries, cause she was a little shocked by this whale of a woman we saw with her two Fatty McFatfat offspring in IHOP. I told her southern people are fat cause we have so much good food it’s damn near impossible to stay in shape. Besides, I love a little extra cushion for the pushin’. That and we have a lot of buffets. I guess buffets are another American thing, cause she told me they don’t have that many in Toronto. WTF?!! That’s one of the coolest things a restaurant can do. It’s cool as hell to be able to eat all you can, and it’s common practice that if you pay for all you can eat, you have to eat as much as you possibly can until you feel like shitting and ralphing at the same time, and you waddle out of the store like some engorged mongoloid.

I didnt know they even served rolls at IHOP.

I didn't know they even served rolls at IHOP.

So in general we had a real blast. I took her out for an official date night, with dinner and a movie. We went to a Japanese steak house, you know the kind with the crazy knife wielding chefs and the fireballs. It was pretty cool, except for the huge black family the got seated next to us and were on their phones the entire time, except when they were interrupting our conversations with a bunch of stupid ass bull shit. If you insist on being a pain in the ass, at least do it on your side of the table. It was kind of funny too cause I’m pretty sure our chef was Mexican, which I found amusing. We also saw the Hangover which is fall down hilarious. My only gripe about the whole movie was that Heather Graham played a hooker and didn’t show her tits, which is complete bullshit, you all know how I feel about boobies. Still though, go watch it, it is worth every penny, unless you are some kind of douchebag who thinks grown men who make infants pantomime masturbation isn’t funny.

Seriously, I fricking love bosoms.

Seriously, I fricking love bosoms.

Fire inside is cool.

Fire inside is cool. Almost cool enough for me to skip the little black Sambo joke this picture makes me think of every time I see it. (Ooooh lawd! Eeessa fiyah suh!)

The other big event we had that week was Going on my favorite morning radio talk show, Bob and the Showgram. Every Friday they have the free-for-all, which is where they have the studio audience in to tell stories and play games and such. I’ve wanted to go on the Showgram for years, and I may not have another chance before I move to Toronto, so this was a real treat for me. We got there super early in the morning, and waited for the interns to come down and take us up to the studio. Then Sweetness, the gay intern came out and helped us through the whole waiver process, making sure none of us can sue the station if we end up losing our jobs or families over anything we say on air. Sweetness by the way, was fun as hell in real life. And they fed us all free Bojangles, which for those of you who aren’t from dixieland is a fried chicken and biscuit place with fucking delicious food. And of course Em is a vegetarian, and there was another gay dude there who was also a vegetarian, so I ended up with a triple meat biscuit, with ham, fried chicken, and sausage all slammed together in a triple meat spectacle. They should have that on the menu, cause it was awesome. Sweetness was even getting a little excited with all that meat pressed together, and wanted a triple meat sandwich of his own, but like a true gentleman I stayed faithful to Emerald.

They took us back to the studio after a little while, and I was of course the very first one in the door, so I got seated right next to the big man himself, Bob Dumas. I never ended up on the air to tell any stories, which kind of bummed me out, but I was so high on everything else that I didn’t really care. It was weird though, because all these other people had stories that sounded like they would be interesting as hell, but they kept being soooooo boring. How do you make a story about being knocked into a coma because lightning hit you on a jet ski uninteresting? How do you take a story about banging a chick in a porta-john at a Nascar race boring? It was like these people were trying to suck extra! And I’m there next to Bob practically jumping out of my seat like, “Pick me! Pick me! I have a story about skinny dipping with a bunch of Mexicans and some fat chicks we met at a gas station!” I did however get to shock Weird Creep John with a cattle prod in the armpit. He was an annoying little pussy in real life though.

I met Sinbad. That was pretty cool, cause I’ve never met a celebrity before except for at signings after shows. It was cool, I shook his hand and we talked about how cool iPhones are. He’s a pretty big dude in person. Em however did make it on the Showgram, they pulled her up to play a game called horseshoes and hand grenades, which is basically just a bunch of random ass trivia questions with cool prizes. She CREAMED Mike, with a landslide victory. I was worried for her because Mike is usually pretty good, but the score ended up five to two, and one of his two was only because they both guessed the same number. I’ll try and ge the audio from the show and edit it together in a sound clip you can listen to, but not right now, cause I’m ass tired from working all weekend.

Bob Dumas on the left, Mike Morris in the middle, and my sexy, sexy woman, Emerald, on the right.

Bob Dumas on the left, Mike Morris in the middle, and my sexy, sexy woman, Emerald, on the right.

All in all it was a really great vacation, and I can’t wait to see her again. I’ll leave you with a few more pictures. For now I’m going the hell to sleep, cause I have to keep myself alive long enough to move up there so I can live like this every week.

Em making breakfast, french toast and coconut battered fried plantains.

Em making breakfast, french toast and coconut battered fried plantains, with a side of white trash bra showing.

Photobombed by my brother Nate. It would have been a really cute picture asshole. Go die in a fire.

Photobombed by my brother Nate. It would have been a really cute picture asshole. Go die in a fire.

Putting the ass back in classy.

Putting the ass back in classy.

Her words say no but her eyes say hell yes. Sloppy wet time sugar!

Her words say no but her eyes say hell yes. Sloppy wet time sugar!

Just so you all know, there are pictures of her filling out a very sexy rebel flag bikini, but she wont let me put them up, so you get this crap instead.

Just so you all know, there are pictures of her filling out a very sexy rebel flag bikini, but she won't let me put them up, so you get this crap instead.