You know what I had growing up? A basement. A simple basement down a simple flight of stairs. It was wonderful. My dad had an office down there, filled with his extensive library of books that I devoured when I was a child. The first novel I ever read was Jaws. I was seven at the time, and it was quite an eye opener. I learned that I was never going to go swimming in New England, and also that sex scenes in novels were weird, hard to fathom, and something that I wanted to investigate in much greater depth. I read that book, and many, many more in our basement. Continue reading
Great, now all I can think about eating is flapjacks. Oh well, enjoy the turkey tomorrow while I’m trying to round up some syrup. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
My kids are fucking killing me. I got a frantic text from my wife asking me to call home because my daughter had just called her ten times in a row while she was in an important meeting. So I called home and asked what was so important. “I wanted to know if mommy was on the way home.” This is not the first time that this has happened. And what’s worse, I get that shit from my mom. A frantic message left on my voice mail: “Greg, it’s mom. I need you to call me as soon as possible. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY.” And I call her back and the emergency is that (swear to God, this actually happened) she needed to know my daughter fucking sock size.
So I’m dealing with that horse-shit, and my five year old son has been kicked out of his kindergarten class again for general goof-offiness, my wife is attending a play for a niece of ours, and my three year old is hitting the peak of his word-explosion phase, and a typical soundbite from him is “Daddy-I-make-noise-play-wth-Mark-at-day-care-Ooh!-I-want-that-I-want-that-I-like-fire-truck-Daddy-do-you-like-fire-truck-you-do-like-fire-truck?-Ok-I-want-snack-I-want-snack-I-WANT-SNACK-I-WANT-IT-I-WANT-IT-WAAAAAAAHHHHH!” And I’ve got to figure out dinner with no food in the house and get them all to bed.
I’m not whining because I never deal with this shit. My wife and I split it up pretty evenly. It’s just one of those days and … FUCK AM I WIPED!
So no original content for you today. You got a problem with that? Take it up with my fucking kids. I suggest you speak with my three year old.
But all is not lost, however. I give you, “How To Spot Lip-Synching” or “Philip Kirkorov Is A Big Fucking Pussy”
We all have ground rules in our lives, things that we use as a handy moral compass for our daily activities. That way when we do something horrible like install a wireless webcam in the Victoria’s Secret dressing room, we can say to ourselves, “Well, that wasn’t my best moment, but at least I didn’t beat my kids today!” Then you can post the resulting footage on secretjigglefest.com with a somewhat clear conscious. (I’ll let you know when that site is up, by the way.) But while many of our ground rules may differ, there is one rule that should be iron-clad and applied across the board: If you’re hosting a party and a tranny wants you to pay her $700 to put things in your butt, you should probably pass on that. Continue reading
You see the person pictured down below? This is Vesta Vayne, and she’s an internet friend of mine. An internet friend is someone you meet online, usually on a blog or in a series of comment posts, that you communicate with on a semi-regular basis, forming a bond over common experiences and similar outlook. That is, you do this until you realize that the person you thought you were getting to know is actually a disgusting 60 year old sex offender from Baltimore who has been jerking it to every single one of your emails. That, my friends, is the magic of the internet. Continue reading
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
