When I’m at work I need to concentrate very hard on what I’m doing. This is because I’m a computer programmer, and my job is to focus on complex problem-solving tasks because if I didn’t, I’d hear a coworker start blathering on about Battlestar Galactica or some such shit, and if that happened I’d roll my eyes until they rolled right out of my fucking head. So I need to focus. And because I do, I rarely listen to music while working. It’s distracting, especially if I am listening to Led Zeppelin because once that happens, then I run the very real risk of Rocking The Fuck Out and attracting all the hot bitches to my cube. And then no one gets anything done. Not me, not the hot bitches, and not the drooling IT types outside my cube that couldn’t catch crabs in a whorehouse. Continue reading

Charlie Brown is high out of his mind on peyote. Seriously, peyote gives people spiritual visions, and here’s this bald kid, mired in crippling depression, spending an entire evening in a fucking pumpkin patch awaiting the arrival of the Great Pumpkin. That’s the kind of behavior that, if you and I had tried it when we were eight, would have resulted in a talk about Just Saying No, and if that failed, extensive electroshock therapy. Not fucking normal. Continue reading

Kevin, from Always Home and Uncool, asked me to do a guest post for DadCentric recently, and I agreed, slapping together the usual collection of dick jokes, treasonous statements, and death threats to local weathermen. Having sent that on its way, I began to wander around the internet looking for filthy hardcore action involving barely legal teens something to inspire me to write a post for my own site. Instead, I found something rather unexpected. Continue reading

You know what I learned today? I learned that even when women turn 63, they are still frequent targets of deviants, perverts, weirdos, and other sick and filthy degenerates. I base this on an article I read that made me so angry that I almost peed my pants with laughter. The article is entitled, “Parboiled Squid Inseminate’s Woman’s Mouth“. It seems a 63 year old Korean woman sat down with a nice, fresh dish of squid when all of a sudden, she felt the presence of “small, squirming organisms” in her mouth. While this may be par for the course in an evening involving tequila shooters and heavy petting, it’s not the kind of thing that you expect when dining at Red Lobster (or wherever the hell she was). So she sought medical attention and was informed that she had (hold on to your hats, here, kids) bitten into the squid’s sperm bag which had not been adequately cooked. (I’ll be honest with you here: If someone had told me that I would use the words “sperm bag” on this site, I would’ve bet every last cent that it would have been in reference to Paris Hilton. Go figure.) Continue reading

It’s fashionable to question the veracity of news that appears in the mainstream media for no other reason than it is the mainstream media that presents it. This, of course, gets the mainstream media’s panties in a wad. “We are professional!” they’ll proclaim. “We have fact checkers, editors, producers, ombudsmen, and many other people whose job it is to make sure that you are properly informed, whereas bloggers have no oversight, no experience, and no accountability.” And to a certain extent they’re right. Then they pull shit like this, and blow themselves out of the (six inches of) water. Classic.

It’s been a while since I’ve toyed with Al Gore. I used to enjoy lurking in the bushes behind his house and just when he was getting ready to go to sleep… BAM! I’d light a totally unnecessary campfire in his back yard and run like hell. “God dammit!” he’d shout, running into the back yard. “Do you know how much carbon this releases into the atmosphere?” And as he was putting out the campfire, I’d come around the side of his house wearing a hat with the word “PRESS” on the brim and snap his picture. “Wow, Mr. Gore! For someone who loves the environment, you sure do light a lot of unnecessary fires!” One time he got so worked up that Tipper had to come out of the house with a glass of lemonade and a moist towel. “Al, honey, sit down! You know what the doctor said!” I’d laugh and stroll off, saying my goodbyes over my shoulder. “See you, Mr. Gore! I have to drive my Hummer down to the paper to deliver this photo. This is front page news!” Continue reading

Yesterday, I hinted that Sting, Bruce Springsteen, and Bono had joined forces to make the world a safer, preachier, and much, much whinier place. This was all in good fun and not, as friends, family, and copyright lawyers at A&M records insinuated, a sign of impending mental breakdown on my part. The idea that these three musicians could get their shit together long enough to rule the world is ludicrous. It was a joke, although to judge by the email that informed me that “STING WOULD NEVER HURT ANYONE LIEK THAT YOU FOOL!!!!!”, not a very good one. Continue reading

I overheard someone talking about how she much she loved her kids this weekend, and I kind of laughed at how unnecessary that statement is. Of course you love your kids. Evolution has programmed love for offspring into each and every one of us, because if they didn’t, how long do you think your typical newborn would last? Those fuckers cry non-stop, piss and shit all over the place, and they cost slightly less per month than the GDP of Ecuador. If we didn’t love our kids unconditionally, we’d be sneaking out of the hospital for cocktails before the fucking cord was cut. Continue reading

I’ve always been blessed with a shockingly good memory. For instance, one time when I was in my mid-twenties, I shocked my mom by describing the home we lived in until I was three. I mean, I remembered the exact layout of every room and closet. “What else do you remember from that age?” she asked, curious to know what kind of stuff stuck in my head. Well, I remembered finding an axe handle in the field behind our house, I remembered waiting for a new couch to be delivered, and I remembered the first time I dropped the f-bomb. Continue reading

I read today that Taco Bell has decided to go “upscale” with its menu, by which I assume they mean they will stop recycling food from Guatemalan trash heaps. I don’t mean to pick on Taco Bell. I know there are plenty of other fast food restaurants with horrible food that does horrible things to your colon, and truth be told I used to love going on late night drunken Taco Bell runs until my plumber told me that my toilets couldn’t handle that kind of abuse. But let’s not fool ourselves here, Taco Bell. No one looks to you when they want quality food. And I mean no one. Continue reading