Oh No, There Goes Tokyo…

My dreams kick major league ass.

I had a dream last night that I was in a Godzilla movie. I found myself in an industrial park, cowering in the corner of a large plant as I watched Godzilla’s massive form stomping about in the distance. I remember feeling good about my chances because I wasn’t that poor bastard who always gets stepped on in the middle of the street. Seriously, people, are we not all familiar with the Godzilla drill yet? When a 400 foot tall fire breathing monster is walking down Main Street, you stay the fuck indoors. That’s the rule. Well, that and stay out of trains. I don’t know if Godzilla had some random pervert touch his butthole in the train when he was little or what, but trains send him into a motherfucking rage. He’s always tossing trains around, and so even though a swipe of his mighty tail could bring the factory I was hiding in crashing down upon me, I still felt good about things. I wasn’t crossing a street, and I wasn’t in a train. Read more »

What’s Up, Doc?

The rabbits were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold.

I’ve been a reader all my life, and so it was only natural that I would spend a lot of time reading to my kids when they were little. They’d get all dressed up in their footie pajamas, we’d hunker down in bed with a big, fluffy blanket covering us all, and I would open a book and begin to read: “We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold.” Hahahaha, just kidding. I would never read Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas to my kids. Too many words. We mostly read things with lots of pictures, like Hustler, although if the comics were good, we’d read Playboy in a pinch. Read more »

On Addiction

What is that?  Maybe it's Maybeline!

You know what show is a goddamn hoot? My Strange Addiction. The concept is simple: They select people with strange addictions and televise a few days of their lives so you can sit there on the couch, laughing at other people’s deep seated psychological issues. Hey, everyone loves a good train wreck, and if the passengers just happen to be drinking shoe polish at the time of the crash, so much the better. Read more »

Things I Learned This Weekend

Make me drive a little extra each day, will you?

This weekend was an interesting one for me. I learned a few things, which isn’t necessarily odd, but the things I usually learn on the weekends are more along the lines of what the underside of the tables at McGinty’s Pub look like, or that cops don’t like it when you call them “shitheels” in public. But yesterday, for instance, I learned that I have the ability to alter the outcome of a Super Bowl and that I am going to become filthy rich as a result. Read more »

The Seattle Seahawks Can Eat A Bucket Of Dicks

Yeah, you, you fucking ass-spelunker.

The building I work in is located next to a resort, which is kind of cool because it looks nice and it’s a fairly tranquil place. Or at least it used to be. It’s primarily a conference resort, which means that during the week you have a lot of staid businessmen walking around, and in the summer it’s virtually abandoned since no one with more than two functioning brain cells wants to go to a conference in Phoenix in August. The disadvantage of this, of course, is that in terms of making money, this strategy blows porcupines. So they added a water park some years back, and that’s when everything started getting a little crazy. Read more »

On Sausages, The Importance Of Keeping Hydrated, And Being Mean To The Help

Pig dicks in vomit sauce

I found myself nauseated in the grocery store today. Normally if I feel nauseated in the grocery store, it’s because I’m in the potted meat aisle. There is something inherently wrong with potted meat, and if the lack of refrigeration and sci-fi-like expiration dates (“Best before 2112!”) don’t put you off, the contents should. A friend of mine once lost his fucking mind and tried Vienna Sausage, an experience he likened to eating pig dicks soaked in vomit, which in my mind is an insult to both pig dicks and vomit, because Vienna Sausages are fucking rank. Read more »

Episode 635, In Which Pelé Plays With His Joystick

Pele before he started using lube.

I’ve got a couple of young boys, 8 and 6, and so of course a large part of their life revolves around video games. They are crazy about videogames, and often I find myself giving them the old, “When I was your age” lecture, telling them how when I was a young boy, I played outside, and read books, and did all kinds of other things that didn’t involve dropping virtual tactical nukes on virtual villages, blowing tiny little virtual people into virtual Kingdom Come. But as I’m telling them this and rounding them up to head outside, I see what they’re playing and I think to myself, “Shit, if video games looked like that when I was a kid, I would never have left the couch.” Because they look AWESOME, and beautiful, and lifelike, and they’re everything I dreamed about when I played video games as a child because what I played looked like someone vomited on a computer and then smashed it with a pipe-wrench. Read more »

Blah Blah Blah

I'm rich!

I’ve got a lot of things to write about tonight, but try as I might, I cannot find a common thread to link them all together. And you know what? I don’t fucking care. Narratives are for fucking pussies or people that write books, and even then they aren’t worth shit half the time. What was the narrative behind Twilight, for instance? Vampires are cool? That’s bullshit. I almost wish that vampires were real just so all of the fucking retards who liked Twilight would get the chance to walk in on a real life vampire converting their grandma into a dry, withered husk, or more accurately, a drier, more withered husk. Read more »

When You Need A Special Person For That Special Day

Someone give me an "Amen!".  And a cocktail.

It has come to my attention recently that many of my readers have either forgotten, or just did not know that I am a Man of God, which explains the general lack of groveling and tithing around here. Well, I am here to tell you that just because I became an ordained minister on a lark does not mean that I take my spiritual duties lightly. Why, just the other day, I damned some asshole straight to hell for cutting me off in traffic. I don’t fuck around, something you should consider when determining whether your 10% tithe is based on your gross or net income. Read more »

A Doorknob Named Kevin: A Digressive And Cautionary Tale On The Dangers Of Organ Donation

Pictured: Kevin

After people get to know me a little bit, one of the most common questions I am asked is, “How did you get into my apartment again, and why are there high definition cameras installed in my panty drawer?” No, wait, I was thinking of the other question: “Where do you run into all these weird characters you’re always talking about?” I’ve got a lot of stories, and it seems that more than a few of them involve people who are kind of odd ducks, so I guess that it makes sense that people wonder if I’ve been hanging out by the local sanitarium, or maybe I just like to spritz people with liquid LSD to make them a little more interesting. The answer, of course, is a little bit of both. Read more »

Powered by WordPress | Designed by: seo services | Thanks to seo company, web designer and internet marketing company
The fuck are you looking at?