I’ll be the first person to tell you that if you judge people based on the color of their skin, you are a fucking scumbag and a much, much worse person than any of the people you believe you are superior to. Racism is evil, wrong, stupid, ignorant, and if there’s anything I hate more than a racist, it’s a Belgian. Continue reading

The day after New Year’s, I went hiking on a trail here in Arizona known as the Goldfield Ovens Loop. This is a nine or so mile trail that includes an odd feature: A giant fucking oven carved out of the side of a mountain, as if God himself decided to make some hash brownies or something. Another odd feature: A large sign informing me that there are nesting bald eagles about, and that I’m keeping them from getting their groove on. Apparently, if you’re a bald eagle getting ready to do your sexy thang, a hiker walking at the base of the cliff you’re perched upon is the equivalent of a cold shower, a kick to the nuts, and a surprise visit from the mother-in-law all rolled into one. That’s fucking lame, bald eagles. Very, very lame. Continue reading

Ok, I realize that I’m treading on some shaky ground here. Let’s face it, there is nothing funny about having a stroke. In fact, the idea that you can be sitting there and all of a sudden you can’t remember your address, how to dial a phone, or whether or not you are the type of asshole who watches the Bachelor is downright terrifying. If I had to rank strokes on the list of health issues I’d like to avoid, they’d be right up there with Ebola, dick-rot, and explosive decapitation. Bleeding in the brain? No fucking thanks. Continue reading

Those of you who have been reading this blog for a while will know that I live in the Phoenix, AZ area renowned for our 350 days of sunshine a year, blistering summertime temperatures, and our annual influx of retirees cruising happily along at 35 miles per hour below the posted speed limit in the left hand lane, all the way to the grocery store where they will take one of the handicapped spots, of which there are seven million, forcing non-handicapped people to walk eight fucking miles to the store, so they can get to the meat section where they will park their cart and stand, staring at ground beef for approximately six hours. Yes, it’s happening again, seniors are inexplicably trying to prevent me from buying beef. Continue reading

How much do you want to bet that this guy has been told by a judge that he can’t hug kids like that any more?

As I’m busy celebrating the holidays with my family, I’ve turned over today’s post to my cousin Charlie who has been going through a rough patch lately. He has assured me, however, that he has turned a corner and is trying to do something positive with his life. And even though it terrifies me as a human being, I am his cousin and I will stand behind him and his decision to dedicate his life… to kids? Oh, good God, this can’t end well. – Greg Continue reading

I stopped by one of those quickie oil change places for lunch today, one whose name rhymes with “Iffy Lube”. I generally don’t do that, preferring to change my own oil. I do this not because I’m one of those studly kind of guys that can, say, replace a starter. Far from it. I’m not even sure where the starter is or what it looks like, just that, oddly enough, it’s not the part of the car you use when you actually start your car. No, I change my own oil because it’s one of the few things I know how to do with a car besides drive it, change the tire, and get laid in the back of it. So I do it myself because it’ll save me a few bucks and I’m fairly unlikely to rip myself off. I’m talking about changing the oil, not the getting laid part. Continue reading

I’m going to cut right to the chase with this week’s installment of Weekly Hypothetical. I just don’t have the energy to ramble on about random shit for several paragraphs before diving into some asinine question about something mondo-bizarro like fecal transplants. Yes, you read that right: Fecal transplants. There is a medical procedure where someone donates shit, and you put it in your pooper. I am not lying. Continue reading

By now, those of you who celebrate Christmas will have breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have gone through the holiday, but happy to see it (and all the associated stress) safely in the past. I, on the other hand, have added to the long list of people I will slay with extreme prejudice just as soon as everybody wisens up and puts me in charge of running the fucking show on this planet. (And seriously, what is fucking taking you guys so long?) Continue reading

Too much to do, so no in depth depravity or 40 paragraph dick jokes. Instead… Whatever the fuck this is. It made me laugh my ass off. Full props to Youtube user spookyfbi8, who apparently has an obsession with Star Trek like most of us have an obsession with breathing.