If you’ve ever bellied up to the bar and really tied one on, you know that one of the most terrifying things you can ever do is pass out in front of your friends. This is because your friends are drunken reprobates, and also because the urge to fuck with someone who has passed out is almost overwhelming, especially when that person was acting like a total jackhole just fifteen minutes earlier. Oh, you say you have the world’s biggest cock? All right, then let’s just burn your pants in the street so everyone at the bar can confirm your claim. What’s that? You’re not objecting? Ok, then, here we go! Continue reading

It’s April, so in most of the United States, snow is done for the winter. Not Chicago, though. I grew up in Chicago, and April is the month when Mother Nature likes to fuck with your head. “It’s 80 out! Isn’t it beautiful? Go ahead, take the snow tires off of your car! Start getting your lawn ready! Spring is here and Summer is on the way! … … … MUWAHAHAHA!!! 18 inches of snow, TAKE THAT YOU STUPID FUCKING HUMANS!” Every fucking year. Continue reading

My well documented fondness for alcohol, especially beer, goes back to when I was two and my father got up from his seat while watching a Cubs game to answer the front door. He came back a couple of minutes later to see me standing there, feet spread wide as if to brace myself for what was to come, a can of Hamm’s in my hand, the bottom pointing straight at the ceiling. I was chugging it. My mom wanted to call poison control immediately. My dad assured her that there wasn’t that much left, and besides, it was only beer. After watching me for an hour, my parents gladly came to the decision that they did not have to take me to the hospital where any future plans of winning Parents of the Year would have been forever dashed: “Our two year old is drunk.” Continue reading

I read this morning that Lindsay Lohan hit a man with her car and drove away. The headline made me laugh because it was literally the least surprising headline about Lindsay Lohan anyone could possibly come up with. Frankly, I wouldn’t be too surprised if tomorrow morning I read the headline, “Lindsay Lohan Visits Vatican, Fingers Pope, Huffs Gas With Snooki”. What would surprise me would be the headline, “Lindsay Lohan Gets Bachelor’s Degree”, or “Lindsay Lohan Discovers Higgs Boson”, or even “Lindsay Lohan Counts To Ten”. That bitch is a fucking train wreck. Continue reading

The problem with being an opinionative person is that no one asks you for opinions any more. And why would they? Anyone who knows you knows that it’s only a matter of time before you tell them how you feel about, say, Grape Nuts cereal, and so they can save their breath until you look up from the breakfast table one day and declare that Grape Nuts taste like a homeless guy just shit some kitty litter into a bowl full of gravel. Continue reading

Every March, I roll up my sleeves, get to work, and really put a fucking hurting on my family. I mean, I fucking whomp on ’em. Take no prisoners, give no quarter, and mercy is for the weak, that’s what I say. When I get through destroying my family, they will wish that they had never been born. I’m speaking, of course, about our family NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament pool. This is serious fucking business. Continue reading

Chances are that you’ve got a killer in your household, something directly responsible for over 1.2 million deaths worldwide every year. It is so dangerous, in fact, that you have to obtain a special license to use it. It is expensive to purchase, expensive to operate, and expensive to maintain. In addition to all of that, it is poisonous, contributing to pollution so severe that it claims an additional 1.3 million lives every year. If you even turn it on in a closed room, it will kill you within minutes. I’m referring to, of course, automobiles, specifically the one I had to take in with a blown master cylinder this morning. Fucking cars. Continue reading

I, like many, many other Americans (and quite a few non-Americans too, I’d imagine) am sick and fucking tired of the random collection of morons, hypocrites, and self-righteous maniacs that run for the office of President of the United States every four years. What the fuck, is this the best we can come up with? I estimate that I know, at least in passing, about 150 people. Of those people, I can easily think of at least 5 that are smart, driven, have good leadership and communication skills, and probably don’t fuck underaged, undocumented migrant workers in their spare time. I’d feel relatively confident that they’d do at least a decent job if they were suddenly appointed President, and one or two would probably be very good at it. Continue reading

If you’ve been following my site for a while, get help. Really. Also, you might remember that someone approached me wanting to sully my precious web site with advertising. And what’s worse, secret advertising, designed to make me seem like the kind of guy that would all of a sudden turn into a giant tool and start hawking the wares of others in the middle of a perfectly good post about unicorns having herpes. The very thought sickens me. Continue reading

Recently, and this will come as a surprise to exactly no one who knows me, I sent an email to NASA because a) They solicit questions from the public on this page; b) Some small portion of NASA was paid for with my taxes, and so I figured I may as well get something out of it; and c) I like fucking with people for no reason. So I asked them how much it would cost to fire David Lee Roth into the interior of the sun. Continue reading