Let’s say you decided to start a trendy and chic meth habit. And let’s say that you had just spent the better part of three days working on that habit. And furthermore, let’s say that you were bored and decided you needed something to do. What would you do? Would you watch TV? Crank some tunes and dance around a lot? Vacuum the carpet obsessively for the next ten hours? If you said that you’d jump in a white minivan, do donuts by the side of a busy road outside my subdivision, pull out a four foot long fucking sword and swing it menacingly at me as I drove by, then haul ass down the street dragging the sword out the window while leaving behind a trail of sparks and a neighborhood full of scared kids, then congratulations! You’re the shitbag, asshole, waste of sperm tweaker I called the cops on last Saturday. Fuck you. Continue reading

Quick quiz! Are you:

• In Spandex?
• In Japan?
• In gastro-intestinal distress?

If you answered yes to all three, then today is your lucky day:

Who needs candy when your beaver’s so dandy?

We’ve all heard stories of corrupt police. Whether they’re trading in illicit narcotics or using Rodney King as their own personal piñata, these criminals bring shame upon their profession by mocking the very laws they are sworn to uphold. Plus, they’re never corrupt in my favor. I mean, sure, 110 mph in a school zone is excessive. But is it too much to ask that you take the three bucks I offered to look the other way? Assholes. Continue reading

Due to a string of unfortunate events this weekend, I wound up watching Bridesmaids with my wife last night. That was two hours and twelve minutes of unfunny that seemed to last at least ten times that long. Holy crap, did I not like that movie. Every time something interesting or funny threatened to happen, women wound up drinking coffee and discussing their emotions. Towards the end, I found myself hoping that earthbound NASA satellite would plunge through the roof and take my head clean off. Continue reading

Dear makers of Gatorade: Can you just go back to making Gatorade again? You know, the funky “lemon lime” flavor that tastes a little bit off like either the lemon or the lime had been fished out of a homeless guy’s pants? Yeah, that stuff. That is Gatorade. Not the orange stuff, not the red stuff, and certainly not that Windex blue shit. And not Gatorade Ice, or Gatorade Frost, or G!, or whatever the fuck you’ve taken to calling your product. Just make regular, lemon-lime Gatorade. Continue reading

No, not the Beatles in India. The Indian Beatles. (Although their lead singer looks like Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban.)

My favorite rock band of all time is Led Zeppelin. I could go into the reasons why, but the last time I did that I got so wound up that I was arrested for playing air guitar in the nude in front of my house. While intoxicated. And removing the label from my mattress without the express written consent of Major League Baseball. Again.

Anyway, as I’m a huge, slavering Led Zeppelin fan, I get alerts sent to me whenever there is some related breaking news. Yes, they broke up 31 years ago, but you never know what the future holds. I may wake up tomorrow to find that it’s 1975! (This has happened before.) And so it was while reading through the “breaking news” that consists of old people like me going on and on about how awesome Led Zeppelin was that I ran across the guy that legally changed his name to Led Zeppelin II. Continue reading

You know what’s wonderful about the internet? Any random weirdo can express their views. You can start a blog, or just comment on other people’s web pages. You can upload a video of yourself to YouTube or, if you’re feeling rather saucy, have total strangers violate every orifice in your body for an hour and post that online. Or you can self-publish a book on Amazon, such as the following literary masterpiece, Birth Control is Sinful in the Christian Marriages and also Robbing God of Priesthood Children. Yes, that’s a real book, with real words in it and everything, although it’s hard to consider the words effective when they’re IN ALL UPPERCASE AND ARRANGED NEARLY SENSE NONE WITH:> PUNCTUATION ; RANDOM!!! Continue reading

Can someone explain to me why Subway will put chips, soda, milk, juice boxes, and Gatorade out in the open where you can easily get to them, but then hoard the fucking napkins behind the counter and dole them out like they’re bars of platinum or something? Look, asshole, just making the sandwich got meatball marinara all over the condom/gloves you wear to keep from giving me the Herp. And I’m gonna eat that fucking thing. So give me more than one fucking napkin before I have to tell you that “sandwich artists” aren’t really artists at all and ruin your fucking day. Continue reading