Doing Something Right

Long time commenter and even longer time friend B’Homey sent me a link recently, which I made the mistake of watching at the office with the sound somewhat turned up. I should know better than that, especially since all the people that sit within 50 feet of me now have HR on speed dial ever since The Incident. (I still don’t think it’s fair that I took the rap for that. It’s not like it was me having a screaming orgasm in that video, and how in the hell was I supposed to know that the woman having the orgasm with all of those longshoremen was the boss’s daughter-in-law?)

So you have been warned. This is totally, 100% safe to watch, but totally, 100% unsafe to listen to without headphones. (This isn’t hosted via YouTube, so it may not be obvious. Click to watch.)

Follow That Car!

Begynnelse til slutt!

When I first moved to the Phoenix area, I devised a unique way of learning my way around town. These days learning a new town isn’t that difficult. You simply ask your smartphone where to go, and it guides you there, turn by turn. I’m pretty sure that this is all part of a sinister plot and one day we will all find ourselves being told to turn left into a giant lava-filled hole, but frankly I’m ok with that just as long as I never have to fold up a fucking road map again. Read more »

Dungeons & Druggies

Two problems with this photo: There are women in the picture, and they're not macing the guys.

I live in the Phoenix area, and everything here seems new. I find it strange that people can live in places like London where you can walk down the street and find themselves smack dab in the middle of history. “Right, then! Right over ‘ere is where Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the bloody parliament, ‘e did! ‘E just got a bunch o’ ‘is lads and rounded up some bleedin’ gunpowder, and Jack’s a donut, there you ‘ave it, guvnor!” Jesus, those limeys love to fucking drink, don’t they? It’s like every time they do a shot, they drop 10% of their consonants. Catch an Englishman at the tail end of New Year’s Eve, and he’ll tell you the same story, only now it sounds like this: “Ri’! Oe ere ‘s whe G’ Fw’ trd t’ bl’ u’ th’ blo’ par’l’m”. This is also known as the Welsh language. Read more »

Back From The Dead

Kenny Loggins forgot to renew my domain.

I heard from several readers this morning who wrote to inform me that Dogs On Drugs, your one-stop shop for Bea Arthur penis jokes, was offline. At first I blamed my arch nemesis, Kenny Loggins, for the outage and quickly dispatched several Mexican drug cartel hit men to rectify the situation. Kenny once sang, “I’m all right, don’t nobody worry ’bout me,” and I used to think that was rather sound advice. After all, I had spent the better part of my life not worrying about Kenny Loggins, and look where it got me: I am on the list of Who’s Who Among Executives and Professionals. Also, I’m no longer allowed to come within 500 yards of Gavin MacLeod. Look, the point is that Kenny has made a nuisance of himself, forcing me to worry ’bout him, and now there’s going to be some fucking bloodshed. End of story. Read more »

The Discovery Channel Must Be Stopped

Watch, and no one gets hurt.

My friends, we are fucked flatter than hammered shit. A single glance at the news today would make that obvious to anyone. No, I’m not referring to the fact that as of this writing there is now a reported case of ebola in New York City, although that certainly is frightening. And irritating as fuck too, if you think about it. This guy flew from West Africa to New York with fucking ebola. Each year, we pay the TSA upwards of $72 trillion dollars to keep us safe, and to date all they’ve managed to keep us safe from is common sense. “Durrr, what’s that? You have ebola? That’s fine. Just as long as you don’t take more than three ounces of water on board with you.” Read more »

The Doldrums

I didn't mean anything by it! All I was saying is that Kenny's thighs look like they'd be delicious, that's all!

It’s that time of year again, when the entire blogosphere comes to a halt. Every summer it happens; Maybe everyone’s tired from having fun outdoors all day. Maybe the heat has baked the goddamn sense out of everyone’s head. Or maybe an entire summer vacation spent with the kids has left everyone hiding in the closet, weeping and drinking vodka in bulk. Me? I’m busy with my charity work, serving as a spokesperson for Tequila Para Los Perros. We do good work at TPLP. Every summer we round up stray dogs, get them ripped to the tits on tequila, then turn them loose in nursing homes. Why? Well… Uh… Wow. That’s a really good fucking question. Hmmm. I may have to rethink this whole thing. … Dammit. Read more »

Magic Land

Gee, I hope our friends in Magic Land are doing ok!


Step one: Prease to cook.  Step two:  You eat now!

I try to eat a sensible lunch when I’m at work during the week. Back when I was in my 20′s and immortal, I used to eat all kinds of crap because I was only eating it to soak up the alcohol anyway, and besides, burritos with pork, sour cream, and guacamole wrapped in a flour tortilla have damn near all the food groups in them, right? Unfortunately, when I got a little older, eating from this bastardized food pyramid made me start to look like a pyramid, and I knew I needed to change things up a bit. I remember that eating spicy Italian sandwiches at Subways made be blow up like a goddamn balloon, causing me to think to myself, “Jared, you dogfucker, you are a lying sack of shit.” Read more »

Excessive Stupidity Warning

In Phoenix, this day would be known as "cool and breezy"

It was 109 degrees out today. That’s in Fahrenheit, incidentally. 109 degrees Fahrenheit is… I dunno, a hectare or something? I don’t know shit about the metric system because I’m American, and unless we’re talking about kilos or 9 millimeter ammo we don’t know a meter from a 3.28 foot wide hole in the ground. Suffice it to say that 109 degrees is ball-scorching hot. But then again, I live in Phoenix and it’s July, so that should go without saying, right? Read more »

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