You know what’s fun? Combing through the comment spam that my filter has picked up. I do this because every now and again a legitimate comment gets thrown in there and I have to rescue it. These tend to stand out, though, simply because the spam I do get is so ridiculous: “This post is a great resource. I will definitely be back!” Oh, hey, I’m glad you think my post consisting of a video of a retarded goat is so valuable. Be sure to come back next week when I have a clip of a badger with Downs. Or sometimes you’ll get a comment that looks like this: “Your site is so {informative|intelligent|well thought out}. I plan to {return|come back} {as soon as possible|soon|next week}.” Well thought out? Listen, asshole, I asked Styx to make me a roast beef sandwich. My site is as well thought out as the piece of shit program you wrote to send your spam. Continue reading

I just saw something on the American Music Awards that pissed me off. Now I should note that I was not actually watching the AMA’s, because I’m an old fuck who believes that music has been going steadily downhill since Led Zeppelin disbanded in 1980. Seriously, you don’t have to be able to play an instrument any more since session hacks will record everything for you, and now you don’t have to be able to sing either. Fucking auto-tune. Now your odds of hitting it big and going straight to the top are directly linked to your ability to fellate Simon Cowell to orgasm. (Hint: It is a known fact that Simon Cowell cannot climax without having three fingers placed in his anus. Not two, not four, three. And yes, he can tell the difference.) Continue reading

I estimate that I spend roughly 200 hours a year either traveling to or from work. That may seem like a lot to some people, while for others that seems like nothing. I grew up in Chicago, and when people in Phoenix complain about traffic I want to punch them in the spleen. Phoenix traffic delays are trivial while Chicago traffic delays are epic, lifelong disasters. For instance, in Chicago you’ll be driving down the highway on your way to work when you’ll notice a very large orange sign that reads, “To serve you better, the Illinois Department of Transportation announces infrastructure improvements to the Dan Ryan expressway. Traffic delays expected from January, 2012 through March, 2921.” And just like that, your life is ruined. What they should really put on the sign is, “We’re tearing the fuck out of this road, you won’t be able to get anywhere in less than a day for the remainder of your life and since this is taxpayer funded, YOU paid for it. BUWAHAHAHAHAHA! What an asshole! Fuck you! Sincerely, IDOT.” Continue reading

Chances are you don’t follow my Twitter feed (over there to the right). Almost no one does, which is really too bad because every time someone follows me, $47,000 gets donated to ScreamyWheelz! a Meals on Wheels charity for crack babies with AIDS. Way to not think about the crack babies with AIDS, you monsters! But if you do follow me on Twitter, you may have noticed today that I posted a link to a story so serious that the entire state of Iowa sat up and took notice: Sex With Animals Can Lead To Penis Cancer. Continue reading

If you read the post yesterday explaining what String Theory is, well, sorry about that. I try to keep this blog 100% learning-free, but sometimes I lose my mind and skimp on the dick jokes. Again, sorry. But if you did read that post and stayed conscious long enough, you may have seen a picture of a Japanese boy-band named Big Bang. After finding that pic, I went on a tangent and spent a bunch of time perusing YouTube in search of nutty Japanese music videos. If you are at all familiar with Japanese culture, it goes without saying that I found more than enough insanity to keep me occupied for a lifetime. Continue reading

Ok, we’re gonna cut to the chase today because the Weekly Hypothetical is a little more challenging this week. A friend of mine, who wishes to remain nameless (although his name is Rich Taylor, and he lives at 2649 Crescent Way, Gilbert, AZ), challenged me to explain String Theory so that it’s entertaining and comprehensible. (Actually, his challenge was worded more like, “You asshole! You’d better replace all of that booze!” but I know what he really meant.) So without further ado… Continue reading

The summer of 1974, when I was five, my parents had just finished putting the final touches on their dream house. They had hired an architect to design their house to their specifications, paid an urban planner to suggest where to build so that the family would get the most out of both suburban and rural life while maximizing the value of the house when it was time to retire, and basically sweated over the millions of details involved in making one’s dreams come true. And it was because of this that it took me almost thirty years to tell my mom the truth behind “The Sprinkler Story”. Continue reading

My wife and I recently received a note from our son’s kindergarten teacher stating that after a careful review of his journal, he was being sent to the principal’s office for what I can only assume was a crash course on Nobel Prize acceptance speech etiquette. I mean, I was kind of in a hurry and didn’t take too much time to read the email because mostly those emails are of the “your son spent all of today’s ‘carpet time’ trying to make the other students laugh” variety. And beside being puzzled as to where he’d get that kind of behavior from, that shit gets repetitive and old really quick, so I admit I kind of skimmed the contents. Continue reading

I love this video because it demonstrates a core, basic rule about guys: Guys are pyros. I’ve tried to explain to my wife how our sons, five and three, will grow up fanning the flames of a smoldering mattress, detonating a bottle full of lighter fluid with a roman candle, or (as I once did when I was fifteen) pouring three liters of gas down a sewer and blowing a manhole cover through an inch of cement, 40 feet into the air. (No shit. It shook dishes off of the shelves of the nearest house. Its awesomeness was in direct proportion to the speed with which I fled the area.) My wife says, “Well, we’ll have to keep an eye on them.” Wrong. It’s going to happen. What’s scary is I may be there with them, since I don’t believe I’ve fully outgrown my fascination with fire, as anyone who has asked me to light the grill can attest. Continue reading