Things To Do At The Mall

Why does everyone look confused as shit in this photo?

The shopping mall is a uniquely American experience. Oh, sure, other countries have malls, but they’re really fucked up. I was at a shopping mall in Mexico, for instance, and the mall cops there having fucking Uzis. That’s not cool. Here in America, the mall cops have pepper spray, which is much safer. Well, safer for everyone but the mall cops, because in America it’s the shoppers that are carrying Uzis, and with good reason: The mall cops are carrying pepper spray! I also remember that about a year ago, the terrorist group Boko Haram bombed a mall in Nigeria, which caused me all kinds of confusion. “What? Procol Harum bombed a shopping mall?” (I might need to get my hearing checked.) Read more »

Stand By Me

I would love to turn these guys loose on Stephen King.

I don’t know if you are aware of this or not, but I am a paragon of modern style. There is not a single decision in the fashion industry, for instance, that is made without my consultation. Oh sure, the fashion moguls are proud, and they disguise their queries and pleas for help in the form of emails with subjects such as “Hot Sluts Want Your Credit Card Numbers!!!”, but I see through their thin charade. Like I said, I am a paragon of modern style because I am Up To Fucking Date. Which is why today I will be reviewing the book The Stand, first published in 1978. Read more »

I Hear Old People

Little one?

You will be happy to know that my long running streak of receiving accidental phone calls from the elderly is now at two. Last October, if you’ll recall, I received a wrong number voice mail from an old man named Ben who hails from Canada and is the most insanely polite person I’ve ever talked to. He was so over-the-top polite that after a while I started to suspect that maybe it was all a smokescreen and that he was overcompensating to hide some terrible secret. “All right, Ben,” I felt like yelling into the phone, “knock off the horseshit politeness act. We both know that you’ve got a basement cemetery full of hobos and drifters!” But knowing Ben, he’d deny it and then apologize for being so contrary. Read more »

Ok, This Is Bullshit

Suspended for two weeks without pay? Hey, it’s not my fault that I was asked to give a presentation without any guidelines whatsoever! This is bullshit.


Cherry Bomb!

My life has been a living nightmare lately, and it’s all Joan Jett’s fault. Seriously, this isn’t like the time I blamed my indecent exposure arrest on the Trix Rabbit, which I now know was wrong, and that ultimately the person responsible for my actions is, and always has been, Pauly Shore. No, this episode is based in reality. That’s right! Reality! Actual events that transpired right here on planet Earth! And to think that just two short months ago, medical professionals labeled me delusional and a danger to myself and others. Well, who’s laughing now, highly trained professionals from Johns Hopkins medical school? I’ll tell you who’s laughing: Me. The guy who has Pauly Shore buried in his basement. Read more »


Man, Chinese seniors are fucking spry!

When my brothers and I were younger, we went through a phase when we would spend an inordinate amount of time watching what we called chop-socky movies. These were Chinese kung-fu movies that played late on Sunday mornings when there was nothing else to watch. You know the kind of movie I’m talking about: Some poor Chinese schlub, usually a cook, gets involved in a misunderstanding with local toughs, and all of a sudden every single move they make, including batting their eyelashes, is accompanied with a violent SWOOOSH! sound. Then they kick the living shit out of each other for 90 minutes while the horribly dubbed voice-over actors would say ridiculous things such as, “Ha-ha! You have mastered the Crooked Tiger! But now you will suffer at the hands of the Flatulent Eagle!” You know, those movies. Read more »

A Camping We Will Go!

Ahhh, the great outdoors!

I took my two sons camping a few weeks ago, a joyous and wholesome family affair which, with time and extensive therapy, we might someday be able to blot from our collective memory. It did not go well. It started, as camping usually does, with a rousing game of Car Tetris. I used to drive a pickup truck, which made camping preparation an exercise in excess. “Tent? Check. Cots? Check. Giant novelty sombreros? Check. Player piano? Check. Inflatable scale model of the Alamo? Check.” But when you have a car the limited amount of storage forces you to be selective. (“Should we bring water, or pornography?”) And with a limited amount of space, you find yourself utilizing every square inch, even if it means the dog has to ride in the glove compartment. Read more »

Out Of Hole Cloth

Here's one guy who would willingly use family cloth.

We are all of us influenced by others, whether we admit it or not. Our parents influence us from birth, our spouses and children influence us daily, our friends influence us, our coworkers influence us, hell even the guy who farts loudly in line at McDonald’s influences us, even if we were only influenced to get the fuck out of McDonald’s and never return. Seriously, that happened to me the other day. This dude just went and fucking ripped one in line. Not an accidental, squeaker-type fart that might slip out when one bends over to pick up loose change. No, it was a long, loud, thunderclap of flatulence that he didn’t even bother to acknowledge. It was like standing in line behind Jabba the Hutt, which would have been tolerable if Princess Leia was there wearing that bikini, but she wasn’t. It was just Jabba, me, and about six or seven horrified customers, about half of whom joined me in leaving immediately. Look, I was at fucking McDonald’s, so it’s not like I was expecting a gourmand experience or anything. But it would be nice if people kept the contents of their goddamn colons to themselves, you know? Jesus. Read more »

Game Time

Joker... Joker... JOKER!

I watched something really fucking stupid on Youtube the other day. That’s easy to do, of course, you pretty much go to Youtube and click on anything and it’s bound to be really fucking stupid, especially if what you happen to click on is the scroll bar and you find yourself in the comment section. Youtube comments are to civilized discourse what a 20 pound sledgehammer is to brain surgery. In no other format would someone be stupid enough to implore a complete stranger to “show us your tits” while misspelling all four of those words. Read more »

The First Post Of Summer

Summer fact #47: Summer is when you see a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac.

Eagle-eyed Dogs on Drugs readers will have noticed that I have taken some time off from posting recently. To them I say, go fuck yourselves. Seriously, you have eagle-vision? Gah, I am SO jealous. I am at the age where I can’t read the instructions on medication without the use of an electron microscope. Who the fuck came up with the idea for small print for medicine labels anyway, a fucking undertaker? “Hmmm, this medication causes fatal bleeding from the eyeballs when taken in North America… Better put that little nugget of information in one point font.” If you ask me, important health information should not be conveyed via the printed word. Deleterious effects should be demonstrated at the pharmacy with condemned prisoners. That shit would work, too. I mean, no one is going to take too much Viagra, for example, after having watched an inmate’s junk explode. Read more »

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