Tag Archives: booze

The New World Order Games

So you know that one topic every blogger everywhere has complained about at least once? I know you do, the dreaded “too busy to blog for a while” syndrome. I gots it. Or I has’d it, whatever, I’m not an English major OK? I’ve had a wicked case of real life distractions keeping me busy. And not even cool ones like partying a lot over the Labor day weekend (sike) but more like really ass-chappy ones such as working overitime way too much and keeping up with one’s own personal responsibilities like laundry, cleaning, studies, and porn. Although the porn wasn’t really ass-chappy for me so much as all those lovely ladies in the adult entertainment industry.

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I'll take some of that vice now Mrs. Palin

Sadly enough, even having been retardedly busy, and not being able to be the total web addict, stat-whore, ass-sitter-onner I’ve dreamt of being since those days of yore when I was supposed to be paying attention in Sunday school, I’ve still had time to get really annoyed with everything going on in the world. I’m not even talking about politics people. (Although I will say that milf from Alaska who looks like Tina Fey needs to seriously think of running for Vice President of my balls, cause even if she’s spitting out retards she’s still hot as hell, and if this wasn’t already a run on sentence wildly out of control I’d fit in some oval office joke, but you get my drift) The thing that’s been giving me nervous ticks every time I turn on the television is the friggin Olympics.

With their retarded costumes, five dumb circles printed on everything, and idiotic location. Grrrrrrrrrrr! I hate the Olympics. OK, hate is a strong word. I find the Olympics boring as hell and irrelevant, and wish they would stop taking over every channel on television and the entire internet once every two years. I mean they are over and they’re still all over everything. Could they not find a shittier place to hold them than Beijing? Was Chernobyl taken? What about Skull island? On second thought, that would kind of rock, but that’s not the point. China sucks, there, I said it. Nobody moves to China, cause it’s a shitty place to live. It’s smoggy, and evil empirey, and chock full of SARS, and bird flu, and three foot women shouting the shrillest language on earth at the top of their lungs as if completely incapable of comprehending inside voices with their eastern logic. That’s why there are Chinese food restaurants on every block in the Western world, because anyone with any skill whatsoever gets out as soon as they can.

Any skill that is besides training their twelve year old daughters to flip around like fruity ninjas with hula hoops and jump ropes. (and making our toys of course) Good lord, I had to watch about thirty minutes of one of those gymnastics events where they randomly bust moves around this big ass padded square holding random objects. I mean throwing a hula hoop up to the ceiling and catching it is cool, but I did that in friggin middle school, albiet poorly, and I just don’t consider it a real sport. I’m sorry. It’s not. Not even if you’re wearing a flamboyant onesie with feathers and scale-looking-sequin patterns.

This is a circus act, not a sport.

This is a circus act, not a sport.

Many of the events weren’t actually sports in my opinion. Anything with a judge for instance. Jumping real far or high, that’s a sport. Running or swimming real fast is a sport. I would say fighting is a sport, but I don’t like judges to be involved in who wins. Hurling things real far, meh, alright I’ll give it to you. lifting heavy things, sure. But not twirling ribbons or swinging around on bars. That’s bull shit. Diving is total crap. Water polo is a sport, but it’s so dumb that nobody cares. Simply being difficult doesn’t make something an Olympic event in my opinion.

So I got to thinking, what should be in the Olympics. What would I want to see. I mean, surely if we’re going to include dumb shit that’s judged on opinion, then we can come up with more interesting events than gymnastics! Here’s how the Olympics would go down if I were in charge:

First of all hold them somewhere cooler, like Vegas, or Amsterdam. Or have them all in a haunted mental hospital, like the one they filmed the House on Haunted Hill in. (the remake) Second, less retarded unitards, more topless ladies! And not the Chinese twelve year olds or those hairy, mannish, fanged boner killers from Eastern Europe. I’m thinking more along the lines of at least the women’s volleyball teams. I mean that sport is already basically Olympic camel toe. And if we can’t find super hot chicks to play on the teams, then they have to bring buxom, morally bankrupt college coeds from their respective countries to act as ring girls for each event. While I’m on it, Olympic pole dancing sounds pretty cool. Or take it one step farther and have Olympic kegels and Olympic bukake.

In the Olympics, you get pumped full of Astroglide, and these are made of lead.

In the Olympics, you get pumped full of Astroglide, and these are made of lead.

Beer should be a main focus of the games. Nothing brings a bunch of random strangers from all over the world together quite like booze. Beer pong would be an obvious choice, as well as quarters, chugging, keg stands, and bar top wet t-shirt contests. In fact, a lot of games would be a lot cooler if a certain chemical level were manditory before every event. I’m talking drunken bowling, beer chugging track relays, and drunken javelin. Make that javelin catching. Or how about an even where you have to get really high and watch Grandma’s Boy without laughing. Greco Roman wrestling is way too homoerotic, let’s change that to alligator wrestling and thumb wrestling.

There should be some sort of giant robot fights, although Japan would clearly be the winner. It would just be cool to see what kind of crazy shit they can build when they put their minds to it. And in the same veign of violent sports, in celebration if China shitting all over that hippie country witht he llama, there should be Olympic protestor ass-kicking. (that would be professional MMA fighters kicking protesters asses, not the other way around) Perhaps even cage fighting with bears, or gorillas, or midgets. In fact, take all the protestors, not just from the Olympics but in general, and have them all duke it out gladiator style in melee death matches with animals and robots and boobie traps all combined. There would be no medals, but I think everyone would win that event.

Competitive eating should be in the Olympics. I know it’s horribly gluttonous and disgusting, but I love it. In fact, there should be an Olympic comittee to have an entire series of new games designed for the seven deadly sins. Sloth would be challenging to make interesting for viewers, but lust would totally make up for it. (back to my competitive bukake idea) Wrath could be a demolition derby, I enjoy those. Maybe with monster trucks instead of normal junked cars. Greed could just be reruns of the price is right. (with Drew, not Bob, he sucked and annoyed me with his stupid microphone) Envy could just be the rest of the world player hating America like they already do. (oooooooh! Snap! Sick burn!) (not really) So we would lose Envy, but clearly win in Pride. (Too bad jack-assery or political ineptitude aren’t cardinal sins, we’re pretty good a those too)

Like this but with fireworks for the crowd to shoot at the arena.

Like this but with fireworks for the crowd to shoot at the arena.

And then at the end everyone would just build a fake city and film it being blown up along side a montage of the best looking women from around the world dancing to Girls, Girls, Girls by Motley Crue, cause what’s cooler than TNT with T&A. Now that could be on every channel without pissing me off. USA baby! Bring on the pointless global regionalism!

PS – Go to hell Wheaties, you taste like shit.

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Tales from the front lines: Valentines day ’08

Holy bat shit Batman, I don’t know about you but this Valentines day seemed crazier than usual. I’ve got stories galore to share with you.

I don’t normally go for all kinds of mushy shit, but there was some unfortunately. My work buddy Kato proposed to his woman on Valentines day. (I’ve decided to call work Kenny “Kato” and “Kenny & Rachael” Kenny by his real name, cause it’s getting hard to remember which one is which and I can’t call both of them Kenny or you will all be confused as shit) First of all, he declared bankruptcy a while back, so he really should not have even been approved for a line of credit at Friedman’s Jewelers in the first place, but those suckers let his broke ass right through the system and gave him one of those little shiny circular things that chicks like. So his woman had to work late, and she was having an especially hard day with people getting fired and getting sick and all sorts of crazy shit. So when she walks in the door, she’s ready to collapse and almost in tears. I don’t know exactly how he popped the question to her, cause he didn’t really elaborate on all that. But apparently she said yes and she busted out the waterworks, which I’m pretty sure every chick does. And then she had to call up her mom. And naturally the mother wanted to know what the ring looked like over the phone. It’s got a round part that’s gold and a shiny rock on one side, just like every other engagement ring in the history of mankind, what the fuck do you think it looks like?

And then they had to call her two kids into the room and explain it to them. The oldest, who’s 14 I think just shrugged and said cool and went back to playing video games. (Not a big deal really, they’re all living together anyway) But the young one, who’s 11, and wired like a squirrel on meth, and borderline mental, well he didn’t take it so well. He started hyperventilating and pulling his hair. He started crying and said something along the lines of, “I don’t know. I just don’t know. I’m going to have to think about this!” And Kenny and his woman were like, think about what kid? Get in here. What are you talking about. Well apparently he thought that if Kenny married his mom, his daddy wouldn’t be his dad anymore. This might not be funny at a first glance. You may look at this situation and see a distraught child who’s upset about the shattering of his family, but that’s not what I see. What I see is a kid who’s confused in such a way that his poppa will get pisseder than all hell and start some serious shit with Kato. His exact words were, “Lets fix this before I have to tell my fiance I can’t marry her because I’m going to prison for killing her ex husband.” Kato’s a rather confrontational and violent person, so the idea of his kid going home to his poppa and poking the hornets nest was hilarious to me. But it’s all straightened out now.

Also funny about his getting hitched is the fact that’s he’s a fairly blatant racist. He’s gotten in trouble for spouting off the N word at work. He’s old school country, through and through. But he’s engaged to a Puerto Rican. I guess love is blind. I shared this story at the bar Valentines night and in return heard a pretty good race joke. If you are a sensitive Puerto Rican, tune out now. Why don’t Puerto Ricans do their own taxes? …. Cause you can’t sign tax forms in spray paint! Zing!

Anyway, so Kato had a good Valentines day, but my boss, Drew, didn’t fare so well. Here’s my best rendition of the conversation we all had:

Drew: Well I’m glad your bitch wasn’t so fucking crazy, I’m about tired of all this female shit.

Kato: So you didn’t get laid or what?

Drew: Hell no, fuckin bitch started acting the fool. I got her eighty bucks worth of clothes last weekend, and when I did I told her, ‘This is your Valentines day present. I’m not getting you any more expensive shit.‘ So she said all she wanted was just a card or something.

Me and Kenny: What are you? Stupid? That’s some amateur mistake bull shit dude. Everyone knows women tell you they don’t want any more shit and not to go out of your way, but they lie. They really mean get me all kinds of crazy shit and it had better be something expensive, something I actually want, and it had better be a fucking surprise. You can’t just get a card and leave it at that unless you want her to be pissed. There was a fucking flower stand at the end of the road on your way home dude. You could have pulled off in the dirt and gotten some thing for your woman from the Mexican chicks. They had chocolates and teddy bears and shit. Come on man.

Drew: Hell no. She said she was cool with a card and that’s what I fucking got her. I put it in the little red envelope and left a nice note in it on the end of her bed so she would find it when she woke up. So I got stuck with some paperwork from the girls in the office and I was ten minutes late. Ten fucking minutes! And as soon as I walked in the door there it is. There’s a big ass frog balloon that says some shit about love, there’s some chocolates, and there’s a new Dale Earnheart shirt. So immediately she walks in like ‘You’re late!’ And I’m like ‘Yeah, ten minutes late. I’m sorry I was working to earn you money to blow, Jesus can I get a minute to relax before you jump on my ass?‘ So she jumps in with ‘What, you didn’t even get me anything?‘ So I’m all ‘I got you almost a hundred bucks worth of clothes last weekend!‘ She said ‘Well you could have at least stopped and gotten something little.‘ And so I said ‘Well I’m sorry I didn’t get you a fucking balloon. Thanks a lot, now we’re both pissed off. I’m going to bed.

Me and Kenny: Dude, seriously, that’s just a dumb mistake on your part. You should have gotten that woman something shiny, you know they love that stuff. Tonight before you go home, just go get her a balloon or something and tell her you are sorry. She’ll probably forgive you.

Drew: Hell no. No fucking way. If I do that, then she wins. I’m not getting her a god damned thing, period. If she don’t like it she can go find some other idiot who will buy her a fucking balloon. Not me. If I get her a balloon I’m just going to pop it right in front of her. Like ‘Here you go baby here’s a balloon for you.” (makes popping motion and sound) Cause thats what she’s doing to me. That’s what all women do. There you are, just walking along in life. And behind you are all you hopes and dreams like little balloons. And sure enough, like taxes and death, some bitch will start following you around and one by one, she’ll pop every last one. ‘Oh what’s that? You’re tired from work and you just want to go out and hang out with your friends? (POP) NOT TODAY MOTHERFUCKER! Bwahahahahaha!‘ Fucking bitch, I’m about tired of all this naggin’ bull shit. I’m ready to stick my boot up her ass. And wherever she lands, that’s where she’s staying. Cause she’s not staying with me anymore!

Me: Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Idiot. Flowers are so cheap! Hahahahahahahaha!

Drew: Shut up and get back to work bitch. It ain’t that funny.

My own VD was filled with neither romance nor drama, but it was kind of fun. Kind of lame, but also kind of fun. I went up to my bar for Thirsty Thursday. But when I got there it was transformed into some sort of romantic diner. There were red table cloths and expensive menu’s with food they never serve. There were candles and shit. I turned right around and left. Screw that shit. Who the fuck goes to the bar for Valentines day? Not people who are celebrating love that who. Lonely people who don’t have anyone to dine with. I just wanted to get drunk with my friends, but love was ruining my evening. More precisely, the woman who took over control of my bar is ruining my evening. In fact, she’s ruining Judd’s in general, and she needs to be stopped. But that was a task for a different evening, for the moment I was just looking for someone to hang out with.

So I hopped on my scooter and headed to the neighborhood across the street to see if Kenny and Rachael were doing anything. As I started considering my options, I realized that I don’t have very many friends who aren’t in relationships. At least not close enough to go visit on my scooter. So I pulled up to their house and through the window I thought I saw my sister in law. I pulled around back and knocked and when I entered I saw not only Kenny and Rachael, but Nate and Sami and another girl from the neighborhood. They were all excited to see me, and excited that I was going roller skating with them. WHAT? Yes, roller skating. And not drunk roller skating, the sober kind. All the girls were super excited, and all the guys were mostly just pissed. Especially about the sober part. But off we went anyway.

Now on the way they informed me that the only one they could find that was open on Valentines night was in the middle of the ghetto. Great. Here I am with my Hank Williams Jr. shirt with a rebel flag and everything, my freshly shaved skinhead looking haircut, and my generally hostile honky demeanor. It was going to be a long night. When we got there, after chugging several beers in the car, I was immediately greeted by a mountain of a black security guard. He patted me down and cleared me to go through (not sure why exactly pat downs are needed for a skating rink, but not a good sign) and somehow he missed my utility knife that I keep clipped to my pants at all times. I forgot I even had it on. So as we are walking in, the Carolina Rollergirls were leaving. I was kind of bummed that I didn’t get to see them practice their skating, partly because they are so hot, and partly because they are so violent, and partly because it would have given me something to do besides actually skate. As in: watch their sexy asses go around in circles.

They may not be models, but their ass kicking gives me a chubby

So we were left with nothing to do but skate. That was boring. There was the regular assortment of weird adults who hang out at rollerskating rinks waaaay too much. there were three or four black dudes practicing their faggy hip hop moves on roller skates in the middle of the floor. There were the slutty ghetto chicks who like to shake their ass like hookers, but while moving around in a circle. There was that one white guy who has on some sort of team jersey for some sort of ridiculously gay roller skating team. There was the pixie cut lesbian who figure skates all night, whilst simultaneously doing some sort of tae bo dance move thing. She was weird, but for some reason I kind of wanted to do her. Perhaps it was my subconscious mind telling me that anyone who could lift their leg that far behind them probably had all sorts of Olympic kegel muscles. Who knows.

After about an hour of listening to urban bull shit music everyone got tired of that and we went to go get drunk like we should have to begin with. I got a free chicken wing out of the evening though, and I savored every crispy calorie of it. Plus our regular bartender was absent that evening and his replacement was some much better looking female. I mean, Jeremy is pretty good looking, but I’d much rather look at chicks, especially on Valentines day. The night ended on an especially pleasant note. At the bar I picked up this hot chick named Rosie Palm and went home for a massive orgy with her and her five sisters.

Overall I had a pretty good Valentines day, at least I survived it. Next year I’m picking up a hooker and banging her to Air Supply when I first wake up, just so I can get all the romance out of the way and spend the rest of the day having fun however I want. I hope your VD was filled with beer and someone else’s bodily fluids, happy black history month everyone.