Thursday, February 15, 2007

"You do that enough and you'll go blind"

As I understand it, Dr. Phil has published several books that can help me cope with my self-esteem issues, money problems, destructive behaviors and poor hygiene habits. But what if I can't invest the 3.5 minutes required to read his bullshit, can I not be healed? I want a single book that offers solutions for all the troubled areas in my life. (that is of course, all areas).

I was looking around for such a magical solution today, when God himself pointed me to www.taketheaction.com. Apparenlty, all of life's problems are caused by 1 simple thing....masturbation. They have published the eBook, "Find Out Why Masturbation is Destroying your Life and What you Can do to Stop it."

From the site: "I cured my problem of masturbation which crippled me for more than 30 years thanks to your program. I never believed that someone had a solution for me since I tried all possible ways to overcome masturbation without success. I am curious about learning your next program, what ever it is, your are my friend for life." Says "P.A. from Sydney, Australia.

Oooo-kay.

In addition to finding a non-surgical method for removing the hair on my palms, I have also completed this years Christmas shopping for the Insidious Dr. Fu Man Chu.

For all the pretentious beer connoisseurs out there

I don't spend a lot of time evaluating the glassware for which my many nightly beverages are served, but it does bring up an interesting point; why can't I drink beer out of a martini glass?

Aside from the obvious, beer tastes best out of a can, inside of a paper bag, what makes the martini glass so superior for a concocation of vodka/gin and vermouth? Or why is a margarita so tasty when sevred in a fish bowl? I guess it is a "chicken and egg" conversation, but I can tell you this, Sam Adams has cratfted the worlds most perfect beer glass.

Apparently, this glass displays the beer in all of it's hoppy, frothy glory. It also does something for enhancing the taste of the beer. (As if Milwaukee's Best could taste any better) For me, it seems like a faggotity excuse to buy beer in bottles less than 40oz.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Now here is an education I can get on board with.

I have always felt that I wasted my money going to college. I spent $100,000 dollars to get a degree in Late Antique Civs, which you may be surprised to learn, carries no professional weight in Osh Kosh, Wi. As a result, I've spent my post-college years as a greater at the local Wal-Mart; not a bad job if you like underpaid, no-frills (i.e., benefits), demeaning work. Consequently, I spend many hours imagining what life would have been like if I went to a school and my teacher taught me to snort coke.

In my educational history the stupid teachers always preached that drugs were bad; and don't get me started on Nancy Regans gay-as-shit "just say no campaign"....are they fucking kidding me, I see how how "exciting" everybody's lives are each time they come to Wal-mart; all 43 times a week.

I needed to be taught that drugs were not only good, Cocaine needed to be inhaled at every possible moment. I needed a role model.

As a society, we should be ashamed that we fire teachers for "taking" coke in front of their students and perhaps, I wouldn't be on the greeter-management track for the 3rd highest grossing Wal-Mart in North Central Wisconsin.

Friday, February 9, 2007

How many sliders will it take for you to love me?

It is the weekend before Valentines day, or "oh shit" day as I call it around my house...which means there is just under 109 hours left until your you are put on the spot to declare your love by way of presents, outward affection and the lavish meal; just the way Hallmark designed it.

Don't delay; reservations at all the best places are filling up, and unless you want to be treating that special someone to an all-you-eat buffet at the Sizziler, it's time to get on that pony.

A sure-fire way to ensure that you will be ending next Wednesday next to the one you love, and not on the couch, is to spice it up, do something extra romantic. Want the sex? Take her here.

White Castle Valentines Day

Monday, February 5, 2007

Rex Grossman named MVP of Super Bowl XLI

For the first time in the history of the NFL, a player from the opposing team was awarded the Super Bowl's Most Valuable Player trophy. When we asked the judges the reasoning behind their choice they said "Listen, it was a difficult decision for us. We arguably could have given the award to many players. Peyton Manning had a superb game passing for 250+ yards and a touchdown. We thought about giving the MVP to the Colts defense as a whole. But when it really came down to it, we had to go back the definition of "Most Valuable." The player that the winning team could not achieved success without. Rex was hands down that guy. We couldn't possibly take away from his tremendous contributions to the Colts victory." His ability to mishandle snaps. The way he threw the ball directly into defenders hands simply outweighed the accomplishments of Peyton and the Colts defense. Not to mention Rex's inability to hit the wide open receiver in stride for a touchdown."

When we asked Rex for comment, He said "It's a little embarrassing to receive this one and in all honesty that is one of 6 games that I wish I had back. I'm just gonna learn from it."

We talked to Lovie after the game too and his response was "I am just glad that I was the first African American coach to have a player named MVP for the opposing team. I'm setting new levels of achievement for all African American coaches. And that can only be good"

Friday, February 2, 2007

Check These Stippers Out!

So Pancho Villa and I were out paying money to have these hot chicks shake their money makers right in our faces, when he gets up and walks out. "I'm looking for some older women," he said with a depressing exhale. "Some greasier women."

And Pancho just happens to "know" right where we should go. Like he researched it on the Internet or something. And I'm not even sure they were all female. Here's a picture of them with clothes on (trust me, they're better this way):

Colts fans - don't complement me on my accessories.

What, you might ask, can 102 million dollars buy you in a period of 12 hours? Only the finest 600 bottle’s of Champagne, two helicopters, minority ownership in the NFL and 4 dead prostitutes (these people in Miami are serious about getting rid of their dead prostitutes). What it can’t buy is a little excitement from the Colts or the Bears prior to the Super Bowl.

What happened to the days of endless trash talk leading up to the game? Who cares that the 2 coaches of this game are friends? Their friendship is turning this into a big gay-fest. I fully expect to turn on pregame coverage to see the corners and receivers giving each other a reach-around and telling them how “big” they are. That will be nice in HD.

Puh-lease. I have seen more trash talking among participates in a bingo game at a retirement home. It is time for this mutual team respect business to END. I need more talk about how Manning's hymen is going to get "tore the fuck up" to the point that Kenny Chesney won’t even recognize it. This game after all, is for the fans, and the fans want pure,unadulterated medieval violence.

Sadly, at this point all I expect to see is a little ass soreness from the butt-fucking going on between the two teams.

Thursday, February 1, 2007

Water....check. Batteries....check.

Hey party people, sorry for the late post this morning. I hit the Zima a little hard last night and ended up sleeping in a dumpster. It is surprising how dark it can be when you are buried underneath a dead prostitute and 50lbs of half eaten shellfish.

Today marks the calm before the storm. Cabbies are still being polite, girls are still talking to me, and you can still buy a beer for under $10.00. But like the proverbial storm on the horizon, you can feel in the air this is all about to change.


The shitstorm that is the Super Bowl is about to unleash it’s fury and if I can meet up with Insidious Dr. Fu Man Chu, we will ride out the storm huddled together in a windowless room. Of course that windowless room is a strip club, and by huddled together, I mean buried in the finest booze, caviar and women our 260 million dollars can buy.


I just checked my pager, it’s Fu Man Chu with a *911. He, along with the other 20 million people expected in Southern Florida this weekend, have arrived. We shall hit up some of the minute golf courses I have been scouting this week and then to South Beach to find out just how easy Jamie Presley is.