My god damned fucking arm

Shit it hurts. I have no fucking clue but for some reason it feels like my arm is in a state or permanent sleep. The second it feels like the pain is going away it shoots right back into my elbow and reminds me, even in my old age, that I am not invincible. I am not reffering to that movie that stared Mak Walbag. I am talking about walking through walls superman type invincible. I have compiled a short list of possible reasons that my arm feels this way. One of these has to be the reason for my pain;

Masturbating

Pulling the anchor for a crab fishing boat up with my bare hands in a field of ice during king crab season

I have recently had a stroke on the right side of my body and I am simply just toughing it out so that others don’t see any sign of weakness

I slept on it wrong

Masturbating

Playing tug of war against a gorilla

Throwing a football three hundred yards

The experimental procedure to see if I could possibly get a machine gun arm

Illegal immigrants

Giving myself HJ’s (Also see Masturbating)

Being a night club deejay

Holding up those 32 ounce beers at the concert this weekend

All of those are logical conclusions but in the end I think I might not go with any of them. I think that the real reason that my arm hurts so much is that I had to drink some Cheladas this weekend. It surely is the devils brew. I hate you Conor.

New career move

I had some free time yesterday in between my work as a taxidermist and my work as a male dancer to sit down and catch a little bit of television. Usually, I will hit the same channels and yesterday was no exception. I turned on ESPN to see if I could get highlights of the women’s curling championship in Hounds Bay, Nova Scotia. Instead, I was blessed with a show chronicling the misadventures of the And 1 basketball team. If you haven’t seen this show it is about playground basketball players who play a loosely governed form of basketball that favors style over rules and favors showmanship over teamwork. This game is perfect for me. The best part about it is that you can join the team and travel with them if you are the best player to play against them when they roll through your town. I have already begun my training, and in order to be on the And 1 team you are going to have to meet certain requirements;

Cool Nickname: This perhaps being the most paramount of all requirements. Whether it’s Escalade, Hot Sauce or the PRROOOOOOFEEESAR, you need to have a name that jumps out at the crowd, because lord knows that the guy on the bullhorn that announces the game wants a cool name to say. I have decided that my street ball name is Wet Panties.

Style: Another important concept is the style on and off the court. The players on the team are constantly getting new jerseys and sweat bands. Could I be crazy and wear two head bands at the same time? What about fraying my undershirt to make it look like one of those old leather jackets with tassels? I think that I will wait until I make the team to make that decision. I don’t want to jump on somebody else’s style.

Game: Finally, you have to be able to put your money were your mouth is. In order to stand out you need to have a move that makes the crowd go crazy. Moves that seem to get the most attention are dribbling through people’s legs, dunking the ball and incredible passing. Since I can’t do any of those things I am going to go with the half court bounce shot as my go to move. It isn’t necessarily going to “clown” anybody but I feel that it is my safest bet to make the team.

I am going to focus on these three things until the And 1 bus rolls back around my hood. In the meantime I will continue to stuff animals and strip but I don’t know how much longer I can take women taking advantage of my body.

For my next trick...

As many of you know I am a new age renaissance man. I have applied myself in the many pleasures of life albeit that they tend to be more on the extreme side. If you have forgotten here are a few of my more dubious achievements;

First man to Hang Glide in space

Bungee Jumped at the top of the Himalayas’ without oxygen

Beat up the entire South Central Bloods using only an aquasock and my bare hands

Surfed Mavericks on a Taco Bell tray

Went against Dear Abby’s advice and decided not to apologize to the parents of the child that I told Santa and the Easter bunny had been killed by a guerilla fighting force from Canada

Visited New Jersey and never said “ova here” or “OH!!!”

Put pop rocks in my ears and then got a wet willy

Watched Oprah for a day straight

All of these accomplishments are a testament to the remarkable courage and dedication that I have to accepting the extreme challenges this world can offer us. This leads me to my most extreme challenge to date, to have sex with Amy Winehouse.




It poses a few problems right off the bat. First, how is it that you are going to get her attention? Well, I figure I will just dress up as a gigantic crack rock or perhaps a shiny new hypodermic needle. Once I have her lured in to me I will simply put on my home made cologne made specifically for her. The cologne is called Hot Butt and features smell notes of cigarettes, box wine, cigars, feces and peppermint. This will no doubt lead to some sort of sexual contact. By my calculations I will need 16 condoms, protective goggles and a full wetsuit for one thrust. If I follow these precautions to the T, I believe that I will make it out alive and with the title of most extreme person ever.

Burt 1 - Scientology 0

It has taken some time but I have come to the decision that I need to come up with my own religion. In our world today there are so many options in which one can put their faith in. We have groups like Kabbalah and Opus Dei that are offshoots of mainstream religions. There are non denominational religions that focus on a multitude of different things as God, and of course there is Scientology (knuckleheads). What I have learned from Scientology is that you can basically make up your own religion and if you are crazy enough and committed to it people will follow you. Well I happen to be crazy, almost insane, and I think that I have just enough time between skeeball league and thong pulls to commit to this religion and increasing its congregation. I have decided to name the new religion Burtholiscm or Burtenomics. Here are a few of the more recently established tenements of the new religion;

Our god is named Mr. Stupendous and he is made of diamonds and can shoot lazers from his eyes. He lives in outer space with his wife, Donna Stupendous, and their 3,800 celestial children. He also shits stars and orgasms black holes.

You are more than welcome to eat meat on Fridays. The only thing you can’t eat is pussy. I am referring to both the genital and animal.

Once a week our congregants must take a bowel movement standing up. In our bible, the Super Awesome Book of Power, Sex and Mad Libs, this process is referred to as “the process.”

There will be no masturbating, I repeat NO masturbating, between the one hour that Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune are running on you local cable access. You don’t have to watch the shows, but you can’t masturbate. Also, if you don’t have a TV just take an hour out of your day not to do it.

There will be no false gods. That includes Lebron James, Dom Delouise, Alex Trebek or myself.

Each year on December 26 we remember the birth of Mr. Stupendous by taking a naked hot tub and re-gifting birthday presents to our loved ones.

There is no marriage in our religion. You are only asked to hold hand with your life partner through the entire American Gladiators course. If you can accomplish that feat you are deemed “best buds” and are allowed to have sex in public.

Jean Claude Van Damme is our current pope and he talks to Mr. Stupendous through Penepathy (telepathy of the penis).

Every Monday is a religious holiday. The only problem is that we haven’t come up with a name for each holiday on the calendar. I am sure we will run into problem with all these non believers and their five day work week, but we shall press on.

That is pretty much all that I have at this time, but I am more than willing to take suggestions on what it is that you would like this religion to base its faith in. Besides I...I mean MR. Stupendous has not released his commandments.

I get my new Zubaz in the mail today

It is a magical day in the Destruction household for today is the day when my families’ Zubaz arrive. If I could describe today I would say that it is if someone had taken Kwanza, Christmas and Hanukah and wrapped them into one gigantic super holiday. That is how good I feel about these pants. And why not? Look at the beauty, the craftsmanship. You have to be careful walking down the street wearing these things because more than likely someone is going to try and rape you. I am not one to worry about such trivial things so I will be wearing these constantly. I won’t be just wearing them. I will be making them look good too. Dare I say better than a young Dan Marino.

I do dare, and I don’t even have the benefit of isotoners. Fuck you Dan and your non super bowl winning ass.

Coming back to work sucks

I took a long weekend and now getting back to work has been pretty hard. I don’t know if you have heard of these things called rum runners but holy shit are they a kick in the pants. When I got to the bar on Friday I was told if I had a tab that was over twenty five dollars that my parking would be validated. Shrewd move on there part, but the problem is that I don’t eat food unless I have killed it with my bare hands or ripped it from the earth myself. Do you have a hard on after hearing that? I do. Anyways, due to my position on food I was left to a strictly liquid diet. Therefore, I would like to give you a drink by drink examination of getting my parking validated.

Drink one – Oh this tastes good. It’s like an adult slurpee, and would you look at all the rum that they put on top for you. A little umbrella too!! I think I may have to try another one of these.

Drink two – Holy shit my brain hurts. Do they put ice from Antarctica in these things? I mean my head seriously hurts right now. I should probably have one more just to make sure that it is not the drink that is giving me this splitting headache.

Drink three – No longer have any pain in my head. Obviously it wasn’t the drink that was making me feel that way. Although I am now noticing that people are starting to make sure I don’t fall over on them. Can’t they see that I am just dancing to the oldies cover band?

Drink four – I just had a conversation with one of the security personnel. I don’t know what the word 86’d means, but he said it quite a few time. I have never seen someone’s face turn that shade of burgundy when they are talking to you but I don’t think they are happy.

Drink five – Good news, I just got my parking validated. Bad news, I pissed myself and that guy is walking over this way to talk with me again. His face is now crimson.

Drink six – I had to take this one in the bathroom because a bunch of these jerks keep trying to talk to me about something or other. I bet they just want to have a sip of my drink. Guess what? They aren’t getting none of it. Nones I tell you.

Drink seven – whas the problem ya jerk. I only hads twose of those…..how come my parking valimated zen? I donut know. Maybe this was yur plan all along assface.

I am not sure how the rest of the evening turned out but I stayed in a lovely little 6X6 room. It didn’t have cable but at least when I got to my car the next morning my parking had been taken care of. Now the only thing I have to worry about are the lawsuits.

What's up bud

Hey bud. Yeah, whats up bud? How you doing bud? Yeah I just wanted to check in and see how things were going with getting those St. Mary’s tickets bud. It is a really great deal. Right now there’s like six of us Bud. Yeah all the dudes are going to be going. So can I lock you in as one of the six bud? Awesome. Yeah I think I am going to go play some tennis after work today bud. My dad and I are going to play a little tennis and then going to head over to the greek theatre to catch a show bud. I have to go to the bathroom now bud. Yeah I am gonna stand up in the stall with my baby dick in my hands as always bud. I wore the sandals to work again bud. So I don’t want to stand in pee bud. Can't do that to the flops bud.

We need to formulate a plan

Obviously we have fallen into a slump in regards to the programming that is on TV these days. Case in point would be the Hills and the “stars” of the show. It just boggles my mind that shows like A-Team and Macguyver are no longer on TV while these people are getting interviewed on Letterman and getting paid money to show up at places. Just to show up at places! I could do that. Shit, I could do that naked if you paid me enough, and by enough I mean dinner and free drinks. The problem is that I have come to realize that this show or the fame of these retarded spoiled children is not going to go away any time soon. That is why it is time to formulate a plan. Here are some of the ideas that I have been pushing around the home office.

Kill all of them

Yeah that’s it. I think that for the longest time I was really over thinking how to put an end to this. I mean there are so many other ways that this show could begin to decline in ratings and grow old and stale, but I can’t wait that long. This needs to end now. I don’t care how it’s done. If it takes me using all of my money to hire a group of Ninjas assassins, then that’s what needs to be done. Also, it is smart to note that we need to include the producers and people involved in the writing for the show to be killed too. This isn’t one of those situations were you cut the head off and the body dies. If you cut the head off the body would still have a bunch of no talent ass clowns coming out with clothing lines and horrible music. Basically, I want to get my hands on a very small nuclear weapon and try to detonate it at the next premier for the show. Now if I only hadn’t burned all those bridges with the government earlier in my life. In fairness I had no idea that illegal plutonium sales were frowned upon.

I went to the thong pull this weekend

The fourth of July weekend is not complete unless you can get to an event that really showcases the greatness of America. Unfortunately, the monster truck rally was two towns over and I was too drunk to drive, plus Skeeter said his old lady wasn’t going to drive us “nowhere” because she smoked up all their meth. Therefore, I had to settle with going to the annual thong pulling competition held in the town square. It is nice to be able to drink a bottle of Everclear and be the most sober person at the event. I definitely got there at the right time because they were just starting to weigh in the contestants and check their thongs for tampering. After grabbing a complimentary beer koozie and a seat I readied myself for some good old fashioned competition. If you have never had a chance to attend one of these events before it works this way;

Three females (can be post op) are put into the middle of the town square wearing only their sturdiest thong and classiest White Snake, Ratt, or Cinderella belly t shirt. Before the competition begins and everyone has turned off their hogs (that means both motorcycles and penises) each female contestant is given a rock of Meth, a flask of rum, and 5 twelve packs of whatever beer the Walmart had thrown out for going bad. The contestants are then moved to the starting line and each given a sled. The course is 100 yards long and is mostly flat minus the spectators that have passed out or died on it. Everyone in the crowd is allowed to bring rotten fruit to throw at the contestants, or to eat. At the blast of the Mayor’s shotgun the race will begin, as well as the strategy.

Each contestant must first smoke all of their meth and drink their flask of Rum before going past the starting line. This usually poses no problems as most contestants are weathered women of the night. This concoction is like Whore Gatorade. With the five twelve packs of beer on their sleds it is up to the contestants to decide if they want to lighten their load by drinking the beer off of their sled. If you have never pulled a bunch of beers on a sled using only a thong then you need to understand that a good portion of beers need to be drank so that the thong doesn’t break. Did I mention that if the thong breaks the first man to touch her is given a free hour of alone time with the contestant? Well, that’s what happens. Basically, the contestants usually have to drink most of there twelve packs before they can really start pulling that sled. That is if they are still breathing. In the end the woman to cross the finish line first wins a live chicken, two cartons of Menthols, and a new thong for next years competition. That’s because the winner gets invited to compete in next year’s contest, if they are still alive.

This year’s winner was Becky Joe Tate with a new record time of three hours and thirteen minutes. She outlasted two very worthy contestants to earn her first victory. I think she also turned a few heads and may have some new gentleman suitors that are trying to catch her eye, all in all a wonderful day for Becky Joe, America, and most importantly myself. Although, I still wish I could have made it to the monster truck jam.

Somebody better write Snow Dogs 2

I am a huge fan of movies. I don’t know if you knew that, but now that you do listen to what I am saying. There needs to be a sequel to Snow Dogs, and Cuba Gooding Jr. needs to be attached to star. All I know is that this movie is a sure hit. I will gladly tell you my idea but first a synopsis of the first film;

When Miami dentist Ted Brooks (Cuba Gooding, Jr.) learns that his birth mother has passed away and that he was named in her will, he travels to Alaska to claim his inheritance. Rather than the large chunk of change that many people would expect, Ted instead receives his mother's pack of rowdy sled dogs and her property. Although the dogs seemingly have it in for Ted, he decides to keep the dogs and race them in the local race, the Arctic Challenge, spiting a mountain man (played by James Coburn) who wants the dogs. What follows is a comedy detailing Ted's adventures in learning to run the sled dogs.

If you aren’t already on the way to the video store to catch up on the first one I am very confused. How could you not love this movie idea? A dentist from Miami, in Alaska? Genius! How is he possibly going to be able to survive in that type of situation? Well without trying to ruin the movie he does just fine and learns some valuable lessons on the way, albeit hilariously.

I think that the problem right now is that there is no starting point for the second movie. This is where I come in. My idea is as solid as a rock. Here is my pitch;

The second movie is going to find Cuba and the Snow Dogs transplanted back in Miami. This time it’s the dogs that are going to be out of their environment. Oh BOY! Of course, the first twenty or thirty minutes will be about the dogs getting assimilated to living on Cuba’s turf and dealing with the beach and ocean. One day when they are down at the beach they notice a flyer for dog Olympics, and because Cuba wants to show off how awesome his dogs are to his cute next door neighbor with the dauschound, they enter the contest. We will have to have a villain and if we could I would like to get Martin Short. I figure he could do a vaguely gay/European accent and have a troop of super agile poodles. Can you imagine how funny that would be? Anyways, a few montages mixed with an awkward date and we have enough filler to get to the finals of the competition where the snow dogs dig deep and win the dog Olympics. After that I guess we could have Cuba marry his neighbor with all the dogs in attendance in tuxedos. That doesn’t really matter because I am open to ideas. There is only one thing that I am adamant about and that is the title. The only name for this movie is Snow Dogs 2: Life’s a Beach.

It's not yo cheese

I went to a wedding this weekend. The best way to describe what happened is through the following math equation;

BURT + FREE BOOZE + FREE FOOD = HANGOVER

Therefore I am going to be lazy today and tell you a question. If a gun was put to your head and you have to choose would you pick nachos that were made from scratch or nachos with the cheese that comes in a can? There is no wrong answer.

Predator for President

Yesterday an article was written about Sonny Landham and his bid to become elected to the Senate. What makes this interesting is that Sonny Landham played Billy in perhaps one of the greatest films in modern history, Predator. He follows a long line of actors from the film that made eventual forays into the world of politics. There is the “Gubernator” Arnold Schwartzenegger, Jesse “The Body” Ventura, and “Action Jackson” himself Carl Weathers. I don’t think it is much of a stretch to imagine Sonny making it into the Senate based on the track records of his Predator compatriots. I think it would be great if that happened because it is inevitable that once he gets in the Predator has to run for president. It would be embarrassing if he didn’t.

There is no doubt in my mind that the Predator would make a wonderful president. Yes, I do realize that race would be a big factor in the election but I think that the other things that he brings to the table would make that a non factor. For one, he is a lethal killing machine from another world (citizenship could be an issue). Do you think for one minute that Predator is going to go to a peace summit? Nope, things will just go how he says. As my pal HAMilton would say, “big shit poppin, little shit stoppin!” Secondly, he would save us tons of money that the president routinely gobbles up. Think about it. Secret Service would be gone. Why? Because he can turn invisible any time he wants and he has a gigantic gun on his shoulder. Air force one? Oh you can junk that thing, he has his own SPACESHIP! Finally, this guy has hunted the most horrific and vicious creatures in the galaxy so dealing with politicians on a daily basis should be a snap.

Right now there is not much time to announce his candidacy so I have to believe he is waiting to see how Sonny fairs in the upcoming election. My feeling is that he will wait until the next presidential election to throw his name into the cap. That, or he stages a hostile takeover whenever he feels like it. I would lean more towards the later.

Thank you Wipeout

I watched the TV show Wipeout’s premiere last night and I have to say that I enjoyed it. There is nothing in the entire world that is more satisfying than seeing out of shape and uncoordinated people try to do obstacle courses that are clearly above their level of skill. I laughed so hard at one point that I pooped myself a little. However, I do have a few suggestions to the contestants on the show that I think could lessen the humiliation that the cameras catch;

Don’t try to relate the course to someone that you have been with in the past. The very first contestant said she was going to “treat the course like her ex-boyfriend and kick its ass.” Well, she didn’t. I am sure that after you flopped all over the place and barely finished the course he has realized the error in his ways and wants you back.

Don’t try to relate the activity to something else you have accomplished in life. One contestant had hiked to the top of a mountain and rides a motorcycle, Big Fucking Deal. That has nothing to do with your fat old ass on a rope swing and falling into pools of mud.

Don’t wear pants. For the love of god why would you wear pants? It’s like the kid in baseball who played in jeans.

Now those are only a few critiques that I have of the show. I am sure I will have more but if you happened to have caught it please let me know your thoughts.

Update: They already knew about them

A while ago I wrote an article about this lost tribe of people that had not been discovered until recently. Well it turns out that this is not the case;

As it turns out, the story is only half true. The men in the photo are members of a tribe, but it certainly isn't "lost." In fact, as the photographer, José Carlos Meirelles, recently explained, authorities have known about this particular tribe since 1910. The photographer and the agency that released the pictures wanted to make it seem like they were members of a lost tribe in order to call attention to the dangers the logging industry may have on the group.

Yeah, I am sure that this has everything to do with logging. We all know that this is part of their clever plan to try and take over America. As I said earlier we must stop these terrorists at any cost. They already knew about these people and did nothing about it. So that means that these people have had close to a hundred years of time to stockpile the weapons needed for a hostile takeover of America. I dom't even want to think about the many body painting techniques they have invented in that time. I for one think we need to mobilize even more young men and women to stop this threat from Americas beard. If we have not done this the terrorists have won. Also, if I don't have a turkey club for lunch today the terrorists will have won. And if you can't take that type of American attitude, you can get out!

Well if your so god damned smart how come you can’t do 100 pushups?

Well Einstein, I am waiting. Sure, you may be able to describe to me the difference between types of elements on the periodic table, but I bet you can’t do 1000 situps before breakfast. What’s that you say? You were head of your class at Harvard law and you had a 4.0 grade point average. Well LADI Fucking DAH Florence Nightengale. I would bet pretty good money that you can’t run the 100 yard dash in less than twelve seconds on your best day. Sure you may be book learned and know how to work a computer, but I can bench press 500 hundred pounds 3 times. I guess what I am saying is that people will always try to one up you with irrelevant facts about their education history or their big ole brain capacity, but in the end it comes down to one thing. If a pickup truck fell on top of someone in front of you would you be able to pick it up and save that persons life? I didn’t think so jackass.

Get out of my home

A major story as of late in Berkeley has been the ongoing standoff between UC Berkeley and environmental groups in regards to some trees near the campus. The issue is that the school wants to cut these trees down in order to break ground on a new athletic facility. This was not taken well by many environmental groups in the area and in a response they have climbed the trees and set up camp. People have now been living in these trees for well over a year. The school has tried to make many efforts to get the people out of the trees, many of which have not stopped the people protecting the trees from remaining in them as a residence. Well, it looks as though more force has been used as of late and the argument is reaching a crescendo.

I really don’t have a particular feeling one way or another as to how this issue turns out. However, I enjoy a good squabble and there is nothing like completely different people trying to change eachother’s viewpoint through loud words and mean faces. I decided to head on down to Berkeley and see what all the fuss was about. When I got there I was surprised to realize that people were so caught up in their arguments that no one would speak with me about how this situation made them feel. So I did the next best thing. Using my gift of speaking with animals I had a chance to speak with a young squirrel named Larry. Larry is from Oakland but now lives in one of the trees in question. We talked at length about the situation but I think these were his most poignant remarks;

You know quite frankly I am ready for this to end. I love my tree but these hippies are horrible roommates. They just sit up here all day listening to Jam band music and eating granola bars. Do you know what shit smells like when all you eat is granola bars? It is horrible to me and I am a fucking animal. Even more unnerving is the smell of these guys. If you didn’t know already, trees don’t have showers in them. Mix that with the already normally poor hygiene of my newest roommates and you have a relative stinkapalooza. If I have to listen to one more of these assholes talk about what they are doing to save the environment and the world I am going to snap. Yes sir, I am sure that the utopian society you speak of were everybody like “does stuff” for one another can exist but lets focus on the now.

It is pretty obvious that Larry has a few problems with the current state of affairs but looks at life with a grain of salt. Besides, he said that there are a lot of other trees out there, so if he has to move on he can.

The Lakers lost

Well it is finally nice to see that Kevin Garnett has won an NBA championship. He already had built an impressive career that was sure to be recognized by the hall of fame when it is complete. This championship is just a positive note to add to an already illustrious career. Congratulations.

Now that I am done swinging on K.G.’s nuts I would like to get down to what really made me happy yesterday evening. My heart was aflutter as I watched the Lakers’ players sit through the second half of what looked like a high school basketball game. A high school basketball game that would be on par with a team full of blue chip division 1 recruits versus the school for the blind. Now I have nothing against blind people, I am blind in my left eye from a knife fight I had when I was in the shit. I have a problem with the Lakers and the fans of the team in general. As you can imagine last night was a wonderful experience for me. I felt like I was given a basket filled with puppies that piss whiskey and crap weed. It was just a wonderful experience to behold. Yet, there was one thing that I think made this victory a bit sour for me, that the Celtics didn’t clinch the victory in L.A.

It would have been wonderful to see all the fan reaction when the air was sucked out of the Lakers season. Would Justin Timberlake (I call him JT) have run onto the court to celebrate with the Celtics after they won, even though he was there to support the Lakers? You bet he would. Would Will Smith have abandoned Jada to give reverse HJ’s to Sam Cassell? For sure! It is because people in LA are into trends and when a new trend hits they jump off that sinking ship, and fast. So now that the Lakers season has ended and we all have to sit through their explanations of how they lost this championship that so many said they would win, I wonder what the next big thing will be. I am going to go out on a limb and say that is has something to do with hammer pants or movies based on gay robots.

What have I done to anger the weather gods?

I am at a loss for words when it comes down to the recent weather trends we are experiencing. One day it can be quite sunny and pleasant and the next you can find me on the couch buried under blankets like those creepy grandparents in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. No, I don’t get buried under blankets with a bunch of octogenarians, I just sit under the warmth of blankets to hide the loss of my faculties due to the cold. I turned the heat on yesterday. It is June for love of pete. Which leads me to my question, which God did I anger to make things this way?

I am not trying to say it is completely my fault, but it probably is. Was there some ritualistic sacrifice to be made that I missed? Did I not pray in the right direction when the sun was setting? Does Marclar, the god of horrible films, have an the ear of other Gods? Yeah, so I didn’t like Air Bud 2. That doesn’t mean that you have to talk to your buddy in the weather department and make my life shitty. I mean c’mon it is a movie about a dog that plays basketball.

Look, I am really sorry about whatever I did to inspire this bad weather but I want to make things good again. Please give me a sign as what to do to appease you. I have no problem with pretty much anything that you need me to do. Just don’t make me watch Air Bud 2 again.

Thank you Jebus

It is as if some magical fairy had been watching my dreams and decided to combine them all into one object. I feel as though the mighty gods have taken pity on the things I have had to endure in life and are now trying to make up for it. This is a good start, a very good start .

Sometimes I wonder if heaven got a ghetto

Just the other day I was listening to the song by 2PAC and it got me thinking? Does heaven really got a ghetto? If most popular theories are true, heaven is a magical land where all of one’s wildest dreams can come true, a land of champagne wishes and caviar dreams. I think that 2PAC was merely asking whether or not there would be a place for his lifestyle in heaven. My question is can heaven handle the type of ill shit that I would like in my personal heaven? I am not going to sit here and describe what my personal heaven is like to the rest of you. Frankly, because I think that my heaven is way too sexy and awesome for most people to handle. If my heaven was described to people their heads would explode and the world itself would detach from its gravitational pull hurtling the rest of society towards a final collision with the Sun or Mars (not sure). I am not saying that you couldn’t have an equally awesome and sexy heaven. I am just saying that it probably isn’t likely. Please feel free to try and describe what you think would be the greatest version of heaven but remember head explosions and the sun.

FOX's newest fall hit

Well it took some time, but I finally was able to get a pilot with FOX. Yes, I realize that it is not that hard to get a pilot with FOX considering that show with Kelsey Grammer and the other one about prison sex. However, an opportunity is an opportunity, and I really think this idea has some legs. Let me give you a little sneak peek into what you can expect on the soon to be megahit Office Butler. A brief synopsis;

The show follows Edward Longington, a Royal Butler from the United Kingdom, who has been relieved of his service due to inappropriate sexual contact with the Royal Maid staff. Humiliated by a tarnished reputation and a lack of job openings Edward takes a job as the butler for a wacky computer sales company in San Francisco. A butler for a sales company?!?! Exactly! Edward is going to have a lot to learn when his formal attitude meshes with the zany staff of Center Source. Of course, as Edward starts his new job he starts to make both friends and enemies among the staff. He finds problems with the overbearing facilities manager Thad Munclap and develops a friendship with the mildly retarded company janitor Harvey Musterman (who in a twist is not retarded, and is actually the CEO). There is also the love interest of Mary Shinnmanburg, the one eyed narcoleptic secretary and the constant threat of deportation. British restraint is put to the test when Edward Longington is Office Butler, Saturdays at 12am on FOX.

I don’t know about you but I think that this show is going to be the fucking bomb. I know that I wrote it, but I think I am being fairly impartial. Besides, Mad TV is still on at that time, and that heaping pile of shit doesn’t have anything on Office Butler. This show is going to make 60 minutes look like Romper Room. - AL, CK, MH

I want to get in shape...Prison style

Last night I had the pleasure of watching Lockup on TV. If you haven’t seen the show it chronicles America’s prisons and the people who inhabit them. Most shows deal with the same type of things; riots, drug sales, gang affiliation, intercommunication between convicts and gang rape….sweet sweet gang rape. The one thing that I don’t think they focus on enough is how guys who are confined to cells for 23 hours a day stay in such wonderful shape. Sure, you have all the time in the world to masturbate but I think it is more than that. Its all about getting that prison swole. The Urban Dictionary defines swole and even gives an example in a sentence;

To be big, with large muscles.

Usually one gets 'Swole' or 'Swole Up' while in prison because of excessive lifting weights.

In Texas usually pronounced Shwole.
'oooooooooooie that maaafucker is swole!!!

I think that if I was going to get “swole” I would focus on the pushups and resistance training. I hear that rolling up ones mattress is a good way to do some power lifting. I also remember this movie with Michael Keaton where he fills up bags with water and does curls with those. That might work.

But why would you be worried about getting swole in prison you may ask? My theory is that sooner rather than later I will be going to jail for some offense. My biggest fear is that I will be released back into general pop without the physical strength to take on five or six men in a shower knife fight. Please let me know if any of you have some exercise routines that may help.

I thought this was ergonomic

One of the companies I work for has changed its base of operations and today is the first day at the new site. The first thing that I have noticed is that everything in the office is ergonomic. My new chair…. Ergonomic. My new modern cubical working space with built in closet….. ergonomic. White board to diagram up game plays and draw pictures...yep, ergonomic. I have not christened them yet but word on the street is that the toilet seats are ergonomic too. Now I am not really sure what ergonomic means but I think it has something to do with the Greek god of comfort. Wikipedia defines it thusly;

Ergonomics is the scientific discipline concerned with designing according to the human needs, and the profession that applies theory, principles, data and methods to design in order to optimize human well-being and overall system performance. [1] The field is also called human engineering, and human factors engineering.

Well for some odd reason I feel that this is a bit of an overstatement. If I was to define ergonomic it would probably have something to do with Lazy Boys, a microwave, and a magazine rack for my consistently long bathroom breaks (nobody drops the Cosby’s off at the pool with the dedication and precision that I do).

Maybe I just haven’t given this ergonomic trend a fair shake. Maybe in time I could learn to love and grow in an ergonomical enviorment, but right now my back is killing me and nobody has explained where the free snack room is. FUCK.

We must stop these terrorists

There is no doubt that by now you have heard the news about the discovery of a lost tribe of people discovered deep in the forests of the Amazon, a sect of peoples that have never come in contact with a society outside of their own, fascinating. That is why I am going to go out on a limb here and beat the Bush administration to the next obvious step. We had best send troops to the Amazon and take care of these bastards before they ruin our way of life. One day we are marveling at their ability to self sustain themselves and their culture. The next, we are fighting for our lives while they shoot their arrows at us and use black magic. I bet the arrows even have anthrax on the tip of them. You might say, “Burt you can’t be serious.” Oh, I am as serious as a heart attack. If we don’t start protecting our borders from people like this we are going to regret it for the rest of our lives. Leave them alone some may say. Well, they have already seen us flying above them, which means Charlie has the jump on us. That is why we need to focus on getting our troops out of Iraq and into the Amazon. If not to protect our borders and American way of life, then to see if they have any oil down there. I mean I think it’s a little easier to fight a few orange guys with arrows than people with guns. USA USA USA!!!!!!

A trip to Whales Vagina sounds nice

Anytime one of these three day weekends come around I get down on my knees and thank Sudaram, my god and savior, for his kindness and generosity. The other thing I do is try to get out of town for a little me time. Well, this time around I have decided to visit Whales Vagina for a few days and soak up the atmosphere. It is going to be quite a time. I plan on coming in HOT, hitting the ground running at a rate of speed that many would not perceive rational. However, I will try to remain dignified in the presence of this beautiful town and my constituents. All that being said I would like to issue a simple mantra for the weekend. See the ball, be the ball, drink a high ball.

It's someones special day

There is a sweet boy that lives down the street from me and it is his birthday today. He loves Ghostbusters and candy. He also wanted me to tell everyone that he appreciates the well wishes and candy baskets. He would have said thanks but he only types one word a minute.

Holy shit it is hot out

It is hot as balls out right now and I am frustrated. Don’t get me wrong. I happen to love hot weather. I welcome a chance to don the speedo and head out to my local park for a little sunning. What gets my panties all in a bunch is that never, not once, has the Coors Light Ice cold Beer train run through my neighborhood. I know that the thing exists. It has been in countless commercials. You know the scenario. It is closing time at work and everybody is exhausted by the heat and a long day of servitude to the powers that be, when all of a sudden this silver bastion of hope comes flying out of nowhere handing out ice cold beers and making life just a bit more bearable. Where the fuck is this magic train when I need it?!? The thing doesn’t run on tracks or anything. Scientists have concluded that it is a magic train. If it is a engineer you need then I am your man, but please don’t deny my people this super train any longer. Today would be the perfect day to do it. I will be waiting at my corner at about 4pm and if I don’t start to hear “Love Train” by the O’Jays you best believe that heads are going to roll. That’s right Pete Coors, you rocky mountain water drinking son of a bitch.

Nickolas Spencer is a dirty dumb whore

There are some people in life that, tragically, have been ignored to a point that obnoxious behavior is the only reason people pay them any attention. Whether it was little attention from their parents, impotency issues or overwhelming body odor something happened that led people to distance themselves. The only thing left to do at this time is make outrageous claims in order for people to realize who you are in the first place. One such person is Nickolas Spencer. I do not know this asswipe from a hole in the wall but apparently he thinks that everyone does. Nick, if I can call him that, wrote quite an unflattering letter to a group of people describing what he thought were injustices revolving around a certain recreational league’s treatment of him. His largely un-based claims seem to point to a person who is lonely and mad at the world. More to the point, he just seems like a gigantic gaping asshole. Anyways, I wanted to say that I thought that this league was a great chance to meet people of like mind and I do not have one bad thing to say about it. So to the people who made it so enjoyable, I thank you. As for our friend Nick I think that my feelings would best be represented by the words of Silky Johnson and Ice T;

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I don't even know you, but I hate you. I hate your guts. I hope all the bad things in life happen to you and only to you.”

“I want every hot tub you ever step in to be cold.”

May Madness?

We have finally come to the breaking point of the season. The Brewskee Mug Tournament has arrived. As you can see above the Wednesday night league is going to have a doozy of a first round. Team Sofa King Good has their hands full with the Skee Amigos, a most worthy opponent. Don Juan Hundo, Hot Dog Hurley and myself have our work cut out for us. The only way that I can think of describing our plan for the tournie is best described by the words of the late Tupac Shakur as Birdie in Above the Rim;

"All I see right now is Bombers, Bombers, Bombers.....CHAMPIONSHIP!"

Now if you replace Bombers with Sofa King Good you have our montra.

Sweeps week

Well it finally happened. After all my years of sending in head shots I am going to be doing some work during sweeps week. I am talking about on camera work. Yours truly has been given a contract to appear on the Hills. Yes, those Hills. They wanted a really hunky guy to be the new love interest. For whom you might ask? All of the people on the show, that’s who. MTV has taken into account the raw sexuality that I exude and think that I would be the perfect fit for every character on the show. Both the guys and girls will fall for this new hunk. Basically, I am going to come onto the scene as a hardened east coast bad boy with a cloudy past that lives by his own rules and loves Yaeger Bombs. It doesn’t matter that I am actually from the west coast because my east coast accent is dead on. You just have to use a lot of “HEYYY” and “OHHHHHHH” in your regular conversations. Example;

“HEYYYYY yo honey get ova here and let me get a better look at that ass of yous….OHHHHHHHH!”

I am going to go to all the hip clubs and accidentally bump into different groups that are on the show. Maybe I will even be dj’ing because a lot of people do that I am told. Within a week I will probably have already been mentioned as a love interest for all the people on the show. Of course, there will have to be a point when I have to break everyone’s hearts and leave the show. I am hoping that the reason is the secret service couldn’t find a recruit worthy enough to guard the presidents dogs, so off I head back to the east coast. There will be tears and I am sure that one of stars will have something really deep to say like, “did that juss really HAPPEN (blank stare devoid of any brain waves).” I will get a little emotional and explain that this is something I have to do, but that when I am done I will come back, which is really a lie because I never plan on being on the show again. What I really want is my own spin-off.

I think that Hulk said it best

Tonight marks the end of the regular season for Brewskeeball and the team is starting to gel at the right time. Don Juan Hundo and Hot Dog Hurley have taken this team to unimaginable levels. We embark on tonight’s contest much like Hulk Hogan had to deal with people when he was at the top of his game;

“In generalities, thank God people are nipping at my heels, talking about me, and jealous. Sometimes people celebrate my failures. It's just a different take on things. Sometimes people are good people and sometimes people are bad people. Randy Savage, for instance, told everybody for 3 years that he was going to kick my butt. I ran into him in Orlando, walked right up to him, offered to shake his hand - he wouldn't shake my hand, didn't want to go outside. He just sat in his chair and shook for 30 minutes scared to death. That has got to tell you something about his character. He can say whatever he wants. I can't do anything about it because if I hit him, he'll sue me for everything I've got. That's his deal. That's what makes him happy. He lives in misery.”

It is eirie how much professional wrestling and skeeball leagues are alike. So to all you miserable assholes that think you will take us out I have only one question for you. Once again I will use the noble words of the Hulkster;

"Watcha gonna do? When the 24 inch pythons and Hulkamania destroy you!"

I want a nickname

Lately I have been thinking about why I don’t have a nickname. Sure, Burt is a pretty sweet name in and of itself but I would really like to have a nickname. The problem is that nobody has given me one. I am a man of etiquette, and following those principals it would be rude of me to decide on a nickname for myself. It has to be chosen for me. Like my good friend Catfish Lamson. Now his name isn’t really Catfish, but that is one hell of a nickname. I want to have a nickname that jumps out at you and says “BOOYEA” or something of equal volume. I can also tell you what I don’t want. Remember that episode of Seinfeld were George is trying to persuade people to call him T-bone and he ends up with Coco for a nickname instead? I don’t want that to happen. That is why I have decided to open this up for debate. Please let me know what you think my nickname should be. Try to make it sound really macho.

Shit Damn

I tell you what. I come out of my house this morning and I see that the gas price has reached the unthinkable level of $4.00. Flabbergasted would be the word of choice in this situation. What is this gas made out of anyways, Chuck Norris’s tears and unicorn horns? I would understand if that was the case because both of those items are extremely rare. Yet, it is just oil. This has led me to the ultimate conclusion. It is time for me to sell my car.
That’s right I am going to be putting my T Top IROC-Z on the market in order to purchase a more gas efficient vehicle. Now its going to be real tough getting rid of this little beauty. It’s got a lot of extra special features that all you book learned elitists don’t have enough appreciation for. That airbrushed painting on the hood of an Aztec Goddess sacrificing a lamb on top of an old ruin in a thunderstorm was custom made for yours truly. I also had a pretty sweet nitrous system in there for that extra kick in top gear, or as I like to call it the panty banisher. Finally, I had rewired my window cleaners to point into the car. Why you might ask? It’s because I pour whiskey into the window cleaning tank. Anyways, she was a real beauty, but it is time to move on.
I have been looking through the auto traders and I can’t find a god damned thing that makes me feel good about selling my car. So I am going to do the most logical thing and buy a golf cart. I am just hoping that I will be able to get it airbrushed, and that my electricity bill isn’t too high.

Job Wanted

I was looking through the classifieds the other day for some work. It was very mystifying that many of the job titles I was looking for were not being offered. Can you believe that Strongman is not really considered and occupation anymore? I guess that these guys now call themselves body builders, and it is more about looking good than it is about lifting heavy items in front of crowds. Another one that had me stumped is that lion tamer is not a job search on craigslist. I mean there are a shit ton of lions out there in the world. Somebody has to train them, don’t they? I mean we can’t have all of them running around like wild animals.
I guess what I am trying to say is that there doesn’t seem to be a job out there for a guy like myself, a swashbuckling sex sorcerer with mind control powers and really sweet hair. I mean I tried to do a little IT work for a while but was fired because I punched a non functioning computer so hard that it shut down the network. For a brief time I worked with the service industry but was canned after I refused to adhere to the hand washing criteria, I don’t bend for anyone. All the people from monster.com keep recommending me for psychiatric work, but that could possibly be from the department of health. I tend to get a little groggy with all the years of abuse I have put on my mind through legal and illegal drugs.
Basically, I have just come to a point were I don’t think the right job will ever come along for me. That is why I would like to write a short list of options that I will consider. Please only contact me with serious inquiries regarding these jobs;

Hippo Wrestler
Hip hop dancer
Bowling instructor
Megaman
Mickey’s salesman
Sushi chef
Sandwich artist
Gravedigger (the Bigfoot not the job with a shovel)
Bathroom attendant (preferably womens)
Millionaire
Phil Collins personal assistant
Santa or Easter Bunny
Jewel thief
Knife salesman
Panhandler

New tactic

I was having a discussion with my friend Matthew the other night. We were discussing the current state of the world and the proper way to cook a grilled cheese sandwich. When our conversation reached a lull, Matt brought up the topic of revenge. We talked about the many ways that people can get back at others, and how that dish is best served cold. Well I have to say I was trumped by one of the most wonderful pranks I had ever heard of. The BBD, or the Brita Ball Dip, is an easy yet effective prank. I don’t think I need to dignify it with an explanation but it is kind of like a baptism, for your balls. I trust that now that I know of this horrible prank I will never drink from a Brita filter again. Thank you Matt for sharing.

When will I fall in love on a reality TV show

I have been in many relationships in my time but they have all seemed to fail at one point or another. Maybe my reckless lifestyle and commitment to extreme shit was too much for the everyday woman. It could have been the rampant abuse of horse tranquilizers and my addiction to the video game TRON. It is most likely due to my body odor, which has been described as so musky that the word musk is trying to distance itself from me. However, I think I have finally figured out what it is I need to do in order to find someone to share their life with me. I need to have a reality show in which women vie for my affection over the course of a few weeks. What a great way to find the woman of my dreams! Having 15 women move into a house where they have to share cramped living quarters will help the alpha females rise up and weed out the weak before I even meet them. Then I will show up in a tank or something badass like that and explain to the ladies that I will meet them in the backyard for a cocktail hour, a meet and greet if you will. At this time I will also introduce them to my right hand man. He will be my Big John to Brett Michaels, my Big Rick to Flava Flav. I don’t know who I will finally pick, but I am leaning towards Burt Reynolds. Over the course of the next few weeks I will put these women through a series of humiliating challenges that rewards sexiness and cutthroat tactics. I am trying to find love here people! We will slowly whittle the field down with elaborate “elimination” ceremonies in which I will give each girl some sort of present that signifies I wish that she stay, followed by a uniquely crafted question to that effect. Still undecided, but at this point I like the idea of handing them a pink machine gun and eloquently asking, “do you still want to kick it here and have sexual intercourse with me?” Now this is all conjecture at this point but I hope by the time I have gotten it down to my final two I really have someone that has fake fallen in love with me. I mean, by that time I will have spent a day with their parents or some relative that still talks with them, and I am a pretty good judge of character. Let’s hope that it works out and I find love or that the show gets picked up for a second season. The only thing left to do now is come up with the name for the show. Currently, I am leaning towards “Destruction of Love.” MTV and VH1, my email address is on the site when you are ready to start discussing budgets.

Beat it NERD!!!

Seriously......Are you being real? I guess you have a tough time understanding that genuis isn't easy to understand.

It's my friend Lukes 12th birthday this weekend

My friend Luke is turning 12 this weekend. That is almost in the teenager years. I heard that his mom is gonna have a sundae table with like ten toppings. I also heard that there is gonna be a water gun fight and a water balloon tossing contest. I also heard that there might be a clown and a magician. I don’t like clowns though, they scare me. But I do like magicians. Have you ever seen that trick when the magician makes a bunny rabbit disappear? It is really neat. No, its radical. My mom said that the bunny goes to bunny heaven for a few minutes and then the magic guy brings him back. My favorite color crayon is green. You can use it for so many things like grass, boogers and grass.
One time last year I peed myself on the school trip to the aquarium and now my mom says I have to wear these special underwears that are rubber. I hope nobody notices them under my bathing suit. I also got a hair under my right armpit and I don’t know what I should do with it. Maybe…gotta go…transformers is on.

We'll get em next year

Remember that movie the Bad News Bears? The loveable tale of ragtag team of youngsters who go from the worst in the league to almost winning the championship. Yeah I do too. Unfortunately, that will be nothing like the San Francisco Giants this season. We will be staying at the bottom of the league this season regardless of what happens. I think the Giants would still be in last if they had Babe Ruth come back and sign a contract with them. All the teams in the national league west could die in a horrific four plane pileup and the Giants would still finish in last place. Jesus Christ himself could become the cleanup hitter and they would still be in the cellar. I guess what I am trying to say is that tickets are going to be pretty cheap this season. That, and I am going to be betting a lot on the Giants to lose. I figure that I might as well make some money while I have to sit through this season. I am a glass half full type of person.

TGIF

Man I am so glad its Friday. I think that after I get off work tonight I am going to stop by the liquor store and pick up a box of Franzia. Then it is straight home and to the couch for ABC’s Friday night lineup. I mean why would you go out when you have a block of shows together that reads like this;

Full House
When Stephanie apologizes to a boy at school, whom she had insulted by calling him "Duckface", he declares her to be his "secret girlfriend".

Family Matters
When Steve's appendicitis puts him in the hospital, Carl thinks he's in store for a few nerd-free days ... until he is shot in the butt while trying to foil a robbery and winds up sharing the same hospital room as Urkel.

Perfect Strangers
Balki insists on buying a lottery ticket but Larry thinks that it is just a waste of money for something that can't possibly win. But during the draws, Larry realizes that Balki picked the right numbers and won 28 million dollars but Balki can't remember where he hid the ticket.

Step by Step
One of Carol's clients has the Foster/Lamberts come to her country club, and while some are uncomfortable being there, each family member has their own unique experience.

MAN!!! How are you going to beat that on a Friday night? You know that Stephanie Tanner is going to say “how rude” sometime in this episode. It has to happen. Boy, and I bet Steve gets on Carl’s last nerve and hilarity ensues. What can you say about Balki that already hasn’t? I bet Mipos is just as wonderful and interesting as the man who came from there. Then you are gonna finish all of that up with a Susanne Sommer’s helmed TV show. I think I have died and gone to heaven.

Tut tut tut....Not so fast Tuesday

I received an electronic message over the interwebs from my friend Mike;

“You underestimate the crappiness of Tuesday. Although it has some international greatness in the forms of Taco Tuesday, Two for 1 Tuesdays and Fat Tuesday… these name games are just rhetoric to hide the fact that it is just another shitty day sandwiched in between Monday (my sworn enemy) and Wed (which everyone tries to build up by calling it hump day). God I hate when people say, ‘happy hump day’.”

I would have to agree with you on that sentiment Mike. Now while I won’t completely agree with you that Tuesday has taken over Wednesday as douchebag of the week, I will agree that it it’s not as great as people make it out to be. Tuesday thinks he is one of the cool kids and that his shit doesn’t stink. Well it does, really bad. A week should only be Thursday through Sunday. That is until Monday night football comes back. - MM

Well....my bracket is done

Thanks a lot Cornell. This is that last time that I pick an Ivy League school to win the NCAA tournament. I really thought that you had what it takes this year. What, with the fantastic use of the chest and bounce passes I looked for you to be an unstoppable force for this years tournament. What I failed to realize is that basketball has changed dramatically from when me and the other gents would play with peach baskets in the back of Atherton William’s father’s estate. The game has matured in ways that I never thought possible. Now with the crazy addition of the slam dunk and three point shot plays our Ivy League boys have been left behind in the dust. I guess I am just a relic from the past. Give me a Winthrop Jennings inbound bounce pass to Prescott Thourogood for a lay-up any day over this new “Alley-OOP” play. Where are the fundamentals? What happened to boxing out and keeping people over 6 foot out of the game? I tell you, I don’t know what to make of it. I guess this game is no longer a gentleman’s contest and I need to realize that. That and I am also out twenty bucks.

All y'all seen da leprechaun lemme here you say YEAH!!!

Ah yes Saint Paddy's day. I know that I am going to seen some leprechauns today, for many reasons. One being that today is a magical day for the little people and they are most likely to show there faces today above all others. Another reason is that midgets or "the vertically challenged" also will be wearing leprechaun costumes. If they don't have a pot of gold I would lean towards them being a midget, or a very fiscally savy leprechaun. The final reason is that I know I am going to have so much whiskey today that hallucinations are a given, and I plan on seeing Darby O'gill and the little people play Danny Boy in my bedroom at around 2 am. Anyhoo, I just wanted to wish everyone a wonderful day filled with merriment and beer, and sweet delicious whiskey.

Warning: Count Assula Returns

The moon is high in the city of New York and Count Assula has caught scent of the western territories again. He has dined on what NY has to offer yet he thirsts for more. This man, or entity, will not be denied his manifest destiny. If you have liquor, daughters or Otis Redding CD's I suggest you lock them all up. He will plunder. His motivations are reduced to primordial instincts. He has been known to fornicate in the areas of North Beach, the Mission, and the Warf. He has many tactics, each more incredible than the next. Ancient secrets forgotten in time, shrouded forever in secrecy. Plug the butts of those you love. The warning has been issued. - DF & MH

Skeezus Christ

If there was any game on earth more important than Skeeball I would be hard pressed to find it. After just one week of playing in my first

Skeeball league

I am hooked. Now I have played many different sports and have had some extreme adventures over the years but nothing compares to skeeball. It is as though God himself invented this game. I will ask him about it the next time we talk. Its simplistic beauty, dedication to perfection and timelessness are unparalleled. It also helps that you can throw down about 30 PBR’s while you play and your game gets better. I look forward to this evening’s test of courage, and whiskey. Please look into joining in an area near you. This game has changed my life. And by change my life, I mean I finally have something to do on Wednesdays other than lift weights and write poetry.

P.S. I hear that the fine young gentleman from the Sofa King Good team really are trying turn things around tonight.

I talk to God...A lot

I talk to god. A lot. We talk in all forms. Sometimes he will just start talking straight into my brain, but usually he calls or IM's me. His most favorite is IM. I think it's because he knows I like all the funny abbreviations and he can make his own emoticons. Last night when we were IMing he was all like;
"The should totally do a facebook for lepers."
And I was like;
"totes!"
I understand that he was trying to get the awareness out but I didn't have the heart to tell him that Leprocy was not as big of an issue on earth these days. We went on to talk about the current presidential race and my appreciation for his work on fucked up looking animals like the platapus. We IM'd a little bit more about weather for the upcoming weekend, and God told me about his plans to get some anal bleaching done. We each sent out a ttyl and promised to text eachother after work today. That's just the kind of connection I have with the lord. It's really open.-DF

A learning computer

I was tipped off by my colleague Joseph that Wednesdays still suck. I gave you a chance Wednesday to turn around the perceptions that many people have of you. Well guess who shit the bed again? I won't even dignify that with an answer. Instead, I will be sending a Saturday from the future back in time to destroy you Wednesday. Good luck dealing with this guy asshole. His CPU is a Nueronet processor, a learning computer. He will not sleep until you have been terminated.

101 is a good pump

I did 101 pushups this morning. Not 100, not 102, 101 pushups, military style. I was watching the Disney movie about all those cute dalmations the night before and it must have just stuck in my head. The thing I don’t get is I live by my own rules and never let my subconscious rule me, but one thing keeps on happening. If I hear a number before I go to bed I have to wake up the next morning and immediately do that amount of pushups. Can you imagine the time that my little boy Danny mistakenly left 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea at my bedside table? Needless to say, when my arms regained feeling we had a little chat. Don’t get me wrong, I love pushups, LOVE THEM. It’s just that 20,000 is a lot more than I am used to in my daily workout. I am trying to find a way to beat this problem. One reason is that I may be forced to lose a lot of my morning to doing pushups. The other problem is that if I get any more buffed I will be entered into the Mr. Universe contest against my will, and I don’t want to win that stupid thing again.

Let me tell you a few questions

1. Did you know that MAK WAHLBAG is the greatest actor of all time?
B. Did you know that I will knock your fucking teeth out if you disagree with me?