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Jun. 7th, 2007


Are You Fucking Kidding Me?

3 days.  3 days?  3 fucking days.  Paris lasted 3 days in prison.  That's pathetic.  You just have to love our justice system.  Reason: an unspecified medical condition.  Bull-fucking-shit.  Gee Paris, were your herpes getting out of control?  Did you freak out because you weren't allowed make-up to cover up your hideous oozing cold sores?  Or was it one of your other venereal diseases?   This is just another example of the rich and famous getting their way with the law.  How many guards did you blow to swing this deal?  Why can't somebody in the law profession stand up and put a stop to this madness?  I hope that the lawyers that have clients in that prison with similar offenses swamp that county's courthouse with appeals. 

Judge: What's the basis for your appeal?

Lawyer:  Well, Paris Hilton was shown leniency, and she's a giant sack of shit.  The only thing she offers the human race is her ability to suck a lot of cock.  She can't sing or act, so it's not like she can entertain us.  She is semi-retarded, so she isn't going to advance us medically or technologically.  She's basically a waste of space.

Great.  Now I'm super psyched for all of the interviews that will clog the airwaves.  Just what this world needs is the utter banality of Mark McGrath interviewing Paris on her trying experience in prison.

She really needs to be punched so fuckin' hard.  And I think I know how we can make this happen.  We just keep feeding Lindsay Lohan mind-bending drugs (it's not like she won't take them willingly).  Then we train her to be our celebrity attack dog who we unleash on the deserving.  That could work.  That plan works twofold.  1.  People who deserve a beating get one. And 2.  These fucking hacks can finally entertain us gladiator style.  Sweet.

May. 31st, 2007


Amish Outlaws

Wow.  The Amish can really smoke it if you give them power tools.  Maybe we should have the Amish do the road construction around here.  They are probably like, "Why are churning butter when we could be making some mad bank working for the city?"

May. 30th, 2007


Construction Struction, What's your Function

I so want the beltline construction to be over.  I fear this project wil last all summer.  All of the closed exits, detours, and delays.  And all of the other lame-ass jizz mopping drivers who don't know how to drive in construction situations.  I'm going to rent a monster truck and start running these cock gobblers off of the road.  

On a better note, the ink pen set Jen got me for fathers day so I can start inking.

May. 25th, 2007


So Random

If you went on vacation to New York, why in Crom's name would you wake up at the crack of dawn to go hang out at the Today Show.  I see these morons standing outside, sometimes in rain and snow, just for a chance for Al Roker to notice your shitty sharpie made sign.  And that Al Roker is such a fucking loser.  You are not funny.  Here's a bit of advice...volume and repetition do not equal funnier.  Instead of getting your stomach stapled you should have gotten your mouth stapled.  Now that's funny.

Tornado slides were so bitchin' when you were a kid.  They were like a slide from the future.

If you are driving, and you know that construction is coming up, get into the proper lane.  Don't race in the lane that is eventually going to close.  If your late for something, your still going to be late.  You are not going to make up any time.  You are just going to piss off someone like me.  And I drive a shitty enough vehicle that if we rub bumpers, I won't give a shit.  In fact if you get out of your vehicle and want to exchange information, I'm more likely to cut your throat on the spot and collect your blood in a silver chalice and chug it in front of your horrified family.  

If you were a contestant on survivor, could you kill everybody in their sleep, technically making you the only "survivor", and still win the money?

Two guitars are better than one.

Make up your own drinks.  Captain Morgan and Dr. Pepper-it's called a Dr. Thunder.  Captain Morgan and Root Beer-that's called The Eyepatch.  You can use Scotch or Irish whiskey.  Then your drinks are called Dirty Thunder or The Dirty Eyepatch.  Try these.  You will enjoy.

Sqeaky floorboards are so amplified when you have a kid.  There's a spot right before Deacon's room that I never noticed before, but now when I finally got him rocked asleep and I step in that spot transporting him to his crib, I just have to cringe as he stirs in my arms.  I just think think to myself, "you stupid fuck.  You know that spot is off limits.  Remember your ninja training and become the wall."

I predict that the Senators take the Stanley Cup in six games.

Don't post to your live journal after drinking.  Drinking after work.  Which you worked your sixth day, bringing your overtime to fourteen hours.  Sure the check will be nice, but my body is broken.

I raise my glass to you all.  Good Night.

May. 21st, 2007


Vacation Deleter

Yesterday was my first day back to work after vacation.  It sucked balls through mesh underwear.  A normal 8 hour day turned into 12.  Woo Hoo.  That single day of work made it feel as if I never even went on vacation.  Plus I have to work on Friday, my normal day off, because of the upcoming holiday.  Memorial day weekend is one of our biggest chip holidays, so you better enjoy your fucking Doritos because they're making it to the stores with my sweat and blood.  It's sad that I refer to holidays by the size of chip volume.  

The vacation was good though.  We didn't get everything done that we wanted to, but many things did get crossed off of the list.  I didn't get caught up on my sketches though.  Don't worry Josh, I have prioritized the Cap cover to the top of the list.   

Apr. 13th, 2007


Break out the Alice Cooper Scooper

Alice Cooper....I fucking hate you. You worthless no-talent wrinkly sack of shit, it is time for you to fade away.  At seven o'clock on weekdays your pointless radio show comes on and forces me to change the channel.  Unfortunately I really have no where to turn since the other station I listen to at work has also recently picked up a syndicated radio show.  Lou Brutus, you my friend rock about as hard as two ninety year olds having sex.  But I digress back to Anus Cooper.  You have the same amount of talent as Paris Hilton.  You play obscure songs that nobody cared about then, and nobody cares about now.  You are not revealing some long lost gem.  Quit playing these no hit wonders.  Your songs all suck ass.  Your stupid as fuck gimmicky shit has definitely not stood the test of time.  The intro to your show is quite possibly the lamest thing the world has ever known.  Why are you trying so hard to pass yourself off as this supremely evil being?  You are about as evil as a can of creamed corn.  You are a goddamned cartoon character.  You look like a scarecrow put together by retarded children.  And the name dropping.  Good god you arrogant prick, have you no shame,  You're such a lying little cunt.  At least you should try to make your shit believable.  When famous people have the extreme misfortune of being in the same room as you, this is what they are whispering to each other, "Aren't we rich enough that we could just have him killed and thrown in a dumpster.  I mean seriously, who's going to miss him."  Then Jesus (who you happened to share bunt cake recipes with) and Gandhi (who taught you those sweet yo-yo tricks) turn to them and in unison say, "Oh, I think we could pull some strings."  Laughter ensues.

You have worn out your welcome.  Please fuck off now.


Has anyone done one of these?

Has anyone totally gone through the little myspace ad-games to win a PS3 or laptop.  You know the ones.  Be the first to choke your chicken and win a blah-de-blah.  I just want to know if anybody has finished the 'check the ones you are interested in' portion of the survey before getting totally pissed and giving your monitor the finger.  I usually make it to the choose two silver deals page.  Yes, the page where you have to choose two things you have to pay for.  Like Colombia House or BGM.  Or the 'learn to make shoes for your cat at home' kit.  Or you can subscribe to super lame ass magazines.  Amish Living.  Things That Hurt.  Pan Flute Monthly.  Punched Faces.  Congressional Hearing Bloopers.  Cooking Gone Wrong.  None of the offers are enticing enough to warrant me finishing the damn thing.  So I just want to know if anyone has actually finished the thing in the required 4 hours it takes to do it, and claimed their prize?  If so, are you now in $628 worth of magazine debt?  If you did make it all the way through you will not be able to play your new PS3 because you have carpal tunnel now.


You'll get nothing and like it

Good lord am I getting worked up over commercials these days.  It's that new Pizza Hut one where the dad goes out and gets food for everyone from a different place.  And after he's done passing out the vittles, the whole family starts pissing and moaning.  Even his wife gives him the dumbass look.  So then the poor sap orders up some Pizza Hut and everything is all better in the land of make believe.  Here's what should of happened after they started bitching about their food.  He should of gathered up all of the food he just bought and had everyone sit down at the kitchen table.  He then should have said, "No one can leave the table unless I tell you to do so."  Next he should have proceeded to shovel all of the food into his face.  Even stopping to vomit if he needed to make more room.  Then when he was finished he just goes, "There's half a pack of bologna in the fridge you ungrateful shits.  Then he goes up to his bedroom, locks the door, and watches 5 straight hours of porn.


Fuck Jared

O.K. Subway.  Enough.  We get it.  Your magical sandwiches turned a fat dorky loser into a thinner dorky loser.  You can quit with the Jared commercials.  I would like to punch that bastard in the eye and then feed him a shit sandwich.  "How do you like that Jared?  I bet you loved it because A) I think you're that type of guy, and B) It had less grams of fat than your beloved Subway."  This last batch of commercials really pisses me off.  I will not be scolded by this stupid dicksmack.  He stands up there with this smug look on his face, admonishing us for choosing a BK Stacker over Subway.  Umm yeah...of course I'm going to choose the BK, because the sandwiches you show in the commercials are unrecognizable to what you actually get at the restaurant.  You have Jared perched up in front of subs totally laden with meat.  About 4 times the meat than on your actual subs.  Shit, the last couple of times I've been in a Subway, I was lucky to get edible food thanks to the crackheads serving me.  Seriously, every time you walk into a Subway, everyone is in the back room.  I believe they are smoking a joint the size of a rolling pin because I have to repeat my order 73 times.  They just stare at me with their sad little bloodshot eyes praying that I am actually a robber who will gun them down in a Tarantino frenzy just to get the $23.19 out of the register.  So to sum up.  Subway: stop using Jared in your commercials, or I will stop Jared permanantly.  Jared:  use some of that hard earned money to buy yourself a personality.  You are as exciting as golf on T.V.  Maybe you should get a facelift too.  I mean, I don't know if it's your shitty attitude or you are just ugly, but you have a very slappable face.


Tour de Dork

Thank god, and when I say god I mean for you to insert the deity of your choosing, that winter is coming.  I am thankful for one major reason.  Bicyclists are off the road.  I have nothing against bike riding in general.  I myself find no greater enjoyment in popping a wheelie on the old Huffy every once in awhile.  Whoa, "popping a wheelie on the old Huffy" sounds like a great double entendre.  Anyways, I live in Madison which is an extremely bike friendly city.  Not only do we have miles upon miles of bike paths, but we also have many bike traffic lanes.  That's cool.  Now here's my issue.  All of the assholes that think they are in the Tour de France.  You wear the butt-padded biker shorts.  You spend whole paychecks on those tight lycra bike jersey thingies.  You get a loan and buy a Cannondale bike.  Hey, terrific, enjoy your new hobby.  Now here's a little advice.  STAY IN THE FUCKING BIKE LANE.  I have no problem sharing the road with cyclists, but you are out of your goddamn mind if you think that I'm going to swerve into oncoming traffic to avoid you.  You get a lane that's at least 6 feet wide.  Why do you insist on hugging the white line?  Are you, as they say, "In the Zone"?  Do you believe you will peddle fast enough to create a vortex that opens up to the Cyclists Elysium Field?  No.  You are only the guy who works at Kinkos making copies of flyers for crappy local pre-teen pop punk bands, who happens to ride a bike on the weekends.

Here's another bit of advice.  When traveling in packs, spread out.  You are making it way too easy for road ragers to take out 5 of you at a time with one jerk of the wheel.  So unless one of you wants to go to the hospital to have a side view mirror removed from your ass, single fucking file please.  For all you cyclists out there crying about "It's the law, you have to share the road",  yes we know.  But what you need to realise you dumb fucks is that my vehicle outweighs yours by a ton.  If our paths one day end up crossing in a somewhat violent fashion, you'll end up pissed because you are dead.  I'll end up pissed because I spilt Mountain Dew in my crotch.

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