Oh how the tables have turned

This gentleman above me is Daniel Andreas San Diego. He is an environmental terrorist who was just put on the FBI's most wanted list for a series of bombings that he committed against "supposed" animal testing labs six years ago. You can read more about him here.

Here is how my thought process went as I read this story;

Oh boy here we go again...another hippie nut job

Well he can't be that bad...he is doing it to protect animals

On the other hand he is destroying public property with potentially lethal weapons

Is that my breath...oh man! has it been like that all day?

Now the table have turned my friend. It seems as though he who wanted to protect the animals has become the animal himself. Now forced to evade arrest it is you who have become the hunted. How ironically delicious!

I also thought about boobs somewhere in that time line but I am not sure where so I excluded it.

Lesson learned

Consistent reader and all around awesome dude Ricky Slade recently contacted me via the emails to direct my attention to “Missed Connections” on craigslist. Now I am familiar with the many different types of forums on craigslist but Ricky directed me to one in particular entry entitled To the woman that crapped in my car…

To summarize it very simply;

Boy takes girl on date

Boy and girl drink heavy beers and eat extreme tater tots

Girl sharts on ride home

Gentleman tells girl not to worry about it as it has happened to him

Wonders if it is a ploy to get out of date and commends her if it was


You really have to read it for yourself to truly understand the beauty of this person’s writing. At first I enjoyed a laugh from reading this post but then my mood changed. I really started to think about this situation and I think we can all learn from this.

NEVER. EVER. Trust a fart. As my granpappy used to say “trust a fart and you may end up in a world of shit.” Take those words into consideration the next time you think you can slowly leak one out. You may just end up like this poor young lady.

It will haunt my dreams for all time

Sorry, but if I have to deal with it so do you.

HOOPS MOUNTAIN

High atop the cliffs nestled within the clouds, lies a place where the gods of pickup basketball created the most worthy of courts. Play here and you shall forever have you name etched in the hall of legends.

Unfortunately, I can not and will not divulge the location of this divine hall of sport. The only thing that I could do was post this gorgeous interpretation of its splendor made by my close friend Big Ed (AKA: longshaft, AKA: Turkey Leg). Who is the person taking the shot you might ask? Could it be Burt? Nope, it’s a guy named John who works in sales.

Pancakes Bitch!

Thought I forgot about you? No way. I still hate you wednesday. I hate you with the fury of a thousand suns. Enjoy being worked over Naked Gun style biatch.

Transformers Spoilers

Mike Bay and I are pretty tight. Yes, I call him Mike. You could say we are pretty good friends. It’s been that way ever since we met on vacation in St. Barts 15 years ago. It was there that we found we both enjoy the simple pleasures in life (explosions, hookers, hunting people). When you share those common bonds and a similarly opulent lifestyle it is easy to grow close. Due to that relationship Mike will sometimes let me in on some movie secrets. This weekend I joined him for margaritas at a titty bar floating around the earth and he told me about some other spoilers that will be in the Transformer movie. Please continue reading if you want the movie ruined for you.

Shia Lebouf dies in the first five minutes of the movie. They implant a transformer in his lifeless body. This later helps him win a break dance competition against Megatron.

One of the Decepticons is Dilbot. He disguises himself as something I can’t share right now. All I will say is that it involves Megan Fox and bubble baths.

A lot of the story has to do with Megatron and Optimus Prime and the falling out they had as brothers. Turns out this whole thing started over an argument about whether not 48 Hours should have had a sequel.

My Transformer Gus will play a small role as the retarded transforming gas station attendant.

Mike Bay will be voicing one of the robots himself. The robot’s name is Baycon and he is a transforming stove.

In the end there will be a robot Royal Rumble that is held in the new Dallas Cowboys Stadium. The winner of the battle is granted sole control of the galaxy and both the World Champion and Intercontinental Champion Belts.

Mike has assured me that he has more than doubled the sweat, grime and slow motion boob shots from the last movie.

All voice-overs will be done by Daniel Stern(Home Alone/Wonder Years). He is also now doing the voice for Optimus Prime.

So there are a few more reasons to go out and see this movie. If not for the action and adventure do it to support my buddy Mike. Sure he already has a ton of money and work for the rest of his life, but he has dreams of building the first country club on the moon. Do you want to tell him he can’t do that?

We have to save the rec center!

Did you hear the bad news? Yeah, the rich people from the country club are going to tear down the rec center in order to make themselves a new parking lot. We have got to stop them. If not with a ridiculously formulated plan then we do it with our youthful enthusiasm. We can start to get the word out by break-dancing on street corners, handing out colorful fliers and having a free car wash for people who support the center with money. Of course, you know that there is going to be a meddling group of rich kids from the country club hell bent on destroying our plan and there will be some parents who don’t understand why we would do all this work just for a rec center. All we need is a tough loner who plays by his own rules to break from his icy shell and lead us in a last minute plan to overcome insurmountable odds and save the day. Does anyone know that person?

Some tips about lesbians

My good friend Lydia Calrissian and I have many conversations during the span of a normal work day. Of course we discuss politics, global affairs, television, and the general lameness of work. Don’t we all? More recently, I have been able to gain insight on another topic all together. I am learning the way of the Lesbian. Yes, Lydia is a lesbian, a very happily married lesbian I might add. She has begun to share with me some insights into the culture that I was not aware of. It turns out that being a lesbian carries with it an unwritten set of rules that I had no idea about, it’s kind of like baseball in that regard (head out of gutter perverts).

So without breaking the trust that I have gained I have been given permission to list a few of these unwritten rules. Some of my favorites from Lydia Calrissian include;

We can not make chocolate chip cookies.

It is looked down upon if you have seen the movie Land Before Time.

we don’t like musicals. We’re not gays. Unless the musical is about Home Depot

You have to drive an SUV of some sort

We can’t make your living room look pretty, but we’ll fix your tv

Incredible! Breaking down these walls has led to a new understanding for me. Hopefully it does for you too.

Baseball is back

All right people, we got 10 minutes 'till game time, let's all gather 'round. I'm not much for giving inspirational addresses, but I'd just like to point out that every newspaper in the country has picked us to finish last. The local press seems to think that we'd save everyone the time and trouble if we just went out and shot ourselves. Me, I'm for wasting sportswriters' time. So I figured we ought to hang around for a while and see if we can give 'em all a nice big shitburger to eat!

Lou Brown - Major League

Oh Florida, when will you learn?

I am fascinated by police reports. I love them. Every day I check sites like The Weekly Vice and Smoking Gun to catch up on the more interesting forays into crime by America’s best and brightest. These reports can be anything from public intoxication to getting arrested for having sex with your dog, each one fascinating in its own right. The problem is that I have started to see a startling connection between many of these police reports. A shitload of these fucked up stories come from Florida.
What do you guys put in the water down there? Are the laws different? For the love of god do people wear pants there? I went on The Weekly Vice today and three of the top six stories were from Florida. Here are the headlines from Florida;

Robber In A Hurry To Snatch Woman’s Purse, Leaves Behind Wallet

Jerron Moffitt - Florida Man Distributes 79 Envelopes Marked ‘Anthrax’ Across Town As April Fools Prank. Authorities Weren’t Laughing

Judge To ‘Naked Nanny’ - Keep Your Clothes On A Bit Longer

Of course, people are going to blame those numbers on the size of the state, indicating the large population is at fault. I don’t know if I trust that theory though. I have a little theory of my own as to why Florida seems to be our nation’s leader in mentally deficient criminals, its called meth.

I want every boner swinging bloodhound from bakersfield to bangkok out on the street looking for McGarnacle!

My good friend Douglass E. Fresh just sent me an urgent message. The transmission ended right after. The message is;

I want every boner swinging bloodhound from bakersfield to bangkok out on the street looking for McGarnacle!

I don't know who this McGarnacle character is but if you have any information on his/her whereabouts or you are that person please get in contact with me. I am off to train a group of dogs. Who is McGarnacle?

Trust no one

On this most evil of days you must not trust anyone. People are going to try and pull a fast one on you today if you don’t have you eyes open. Your old pal Burt has been duped numerous times on April fools day. But Burt, how could someone with such skill and mentally agility be fooled when you know it is coming? Well most of the time it had to do with me being blacked out drunk or on hallucinogens. The embarrassment of being duped has led me to two conclusions. One that I will never get got on April fools day again. Two, people are trying to fool me on other days of the year just to make up for today, but I am not falling for it. Just the other day the stripper (Cinnamon Kiss) I have been dating told me that she was pregnant! Good one Cinnamon, good one. You almost had me there for a second.

BOOOO HOOOOO

I am fascinated by people in the entertainment industry, but not in a positive way. What interests me more than anything is the constant whining from people who make millions upon millions of dollars a year. It always seems like there is someone or something that is making their lives miserable. They complain that the paparazzi follow them too much or that people just won’t let them live their own private lives (LEAVE BRITTANEY ALONE!!!!!). Well, what the fuck are we supposed to do? Should we avert our eyes in public? Should I stop masturbating by their windows at night? I don’t think so. There is a better plan for celebrities who have it so hard. Give it all up.

That’s right. Quit! If all of this bothers you so much why don’t you just quit. Move away with all of your money to an island filled with monkey butlers. I am pretty sure that the paparazzo doesn’t have that many boats at their disposal. Why not shoot yourself into space with Richard Branson and stay there? Build an underwater house guarded by killer whales. I don’t give a shit. Just stop complaining about the byproduct of being famous.

The problem is that people who complain the most don’t really mean what they are saying. They actually relish being able to complain about something to people in their otherwise uncomplicated lives. So the next time that you want to voice feelings about the horrible struggle that is your life, think about people who hardly have the means to survive and what they might complain about. Or think about the guy who has crabs so big that red lobster wants to buy them.

My asshole is an asshole

I have got a bone to pick with an asshole, more specifically my asshole. Sometimes I just do not get you. What is your problem? Here I am minding my own business on a Sunday and all of a sudden you go out of your way to start getting itchy. What. The. Fuck? I had just gotten out of the shower and was getting comfortable in a new jock strap(yes, I wear a jockstrap instead of underwear. I find that the underwear is restrictive and that the breathe ability is something that I have grown accustomed to. The great thing about the jock is that it keeps my balls out of the nether regions and for the most part keeps them from smelling. Of course, it also helps that I use a combination of baby powder and fresh lilac to powder my balls daily. Wait, could this be the reason that my ass itches in the firs place? Oh shit. Maybe the combination of the jock and my daily powder could have something to do with the random ass itches. I will have to look into that by doing a series of tests applying the powder directly to the anus. Yeah, that will work. I just need to get someone who can take notes and possibly help with application. Oh man, wait a second, did I leave my oven on. Fuck! I think it is on. Could I leave it on all day? Probably not a good idea. Yeah I will go home for lunch and turn it off. Then I can save money by making a sandwich at home. I think I have some salame left but I can’t be sure. Oh wait forget the sandwich. I don’t have any bread.) Wait, what was I talking about? Oh yeah an itchy butthole. That stuff sucks.

I moonlight at a strip club

I haven’t told many people this but I sometimes moonlight as a bouncer for an all male strip club. It’s called the Cock Factory. I don’t tell people about it because many of my other jobs would probably fire me if they know I was making extra scratch on the side. Another reason I don’t tell a lot of folks is that I have to explain why I would work at an all male club. People always seem to think that because I work in an all male club called the Cock Factory I am gay. Nothing could be further from the truth. I play for one team and one team only. The team that likes to get all types of J’s(HJ, BJ, ZJ) from the ladies. I work as a bouncer at the CF because of the fringe benefits involved.

There are a lot of things about being a straight bouncer at an all male strip club that you wouldn’t normally think of. A few of the better things include;

To say that the atmosphere is electric is an understatement. When Infuego (one of the dancers) comes out to do his fire show you can’t hear yourself think.

Kicking out unruly ladies and gay gentleman for the most part is much easier than dealing with a gang of suit wearing, coked up, mortgage brokers.

Since most of the dancers are gay all of those horny 40-60 year old housewives just fall into one lucky gentleman’s lap. I will give you a clue, it’s me.

Female strip clubs have rules to enforce like no touching the dancers and no masturbating in public. Not so much for the male reviews. Last week I saw a 50 year old Filipino woman give Tex (another dancer) an HJ under the bar. I didn’t have to do a thing about it.

Basically, the job is a total cake walk. I maintain an air of calm that permeates throughout the building. Once in a while you might have to fight a few ladies or escort someone to a taxi after they have overindulged in wine coolers, but that’s part of the job description. I just try to go to work and do my job just like any regular guy.

Check in next week when I interview the Cock Factory’s star performer Lazy Boy. His moves, skill, and raw sexuality will startle you.

My Review of Milk

Milk is a pretty good drink. It is high in calcium and I hear that it is what gives you strong bones. Milk comes from cows. Specifically, the milk comes from gigantic vagina bag pipes in female cows. If you drink Milk you will be strong like bull. If you don’t drink milk your body will shatter. It also means you don’t care about lost children. I am sorry if you thought that this was going to be a review of the movie Milk. It isn’t. Although I like that movie almost as much as I like milk the drink...with COOKIES!!!!

Art

I have decided to forego my usual bashing of Wednesday and instead post a few peices of art that I think I made just a bit better. I think that this art speaks to a new generation of young people. Those nerds in the industry will be breaking down my door for this stuff. Oh I am an artiste.

The Blogfather

A business partner of mine Douglass P. Fresh was discussing a bold new strategy into making this blog the Cadillac of incoherent ramblings. He has suggested that I follow the code of Omertà, or the Italian mafia’s code of honor. It is a tremendous idea. For two long I have sat idly while others have risen to power. That is all about to end for you see I have become the Blogfather.
There is a new Don on the street to discuss masturbation and the need for Snow Dogs 2. Burt “the face” Destruction rules the blogosphere with an iron fist and horribly flawed logic. In no time the Destruction family will rise. We just need to follow a few simple rules;

Never talk business on another person’s blog. There are way too many people watching and stupid mistakes like that will get you killed.

I will only do favors for people when someone is brave enough to advertise for wedding sites on my blog. Then and only then!

If a person does not like my blog we will infilitrate their house at night, find their laptop, rip it in half, and put it in their bed while they are sleeping.

We will charge people for internet protection.

If other blogs get in the way, hits will be called out and programmers will sleep with the fishes.

This is not a threat. It’s more of a warning to not disturb the family business, a very serious warning that could end in death or getting your toilet upperdecked.

Forgotten Classic?

Occasionally, HBO and other movie channels will revive action films from our past for a month at a time. Most recently, HBO had made a point of playing Die Hard 2 once a day (I watch it almost every time because I have had so many John Mclain type moments in my own life. It’s very relatable). Anyways, I have been extremely stoked by this business plan and my excitement reached a fevered pitch when I saw that Drop Zone would be playing this month. Yes, the same Drop Zone that successfully put an end to skydiving related story lines. Here is a quick synopsis;

A team of skydiving crooks led by DEA-agent-turned-bad guy Gary Busey specialize in landing on police roofs and breaking in so their evil computer nerd can steal undercover agents' files and sell them to drug lords. Federal Marshal Snipes lost a brother to this crew and learns skydiving with the help of tough-but-lovable instructor Butler so he can track them down. DIE HARD meets PASSENGER 57 meets CLIFFHANGER

That plot summary pretty much nails the general theme of the film. What the plot summary fails to cover is all the little things that make this movie, in my opinion, a classic. Some of those things include;

Wesley Snipes parachuting. The acting that Wesley did in a wind tunnel is amazing.

The computer hacker is this guy

The scenes were Gary Busey pulls up (what I imagine being pretty hi tech for 1994) a computer schematic that shows their parachuting plan. It looks like an Atari game.

The fact that there is a gang of skydivers.

The greatest part though is when Gary Busey is sick of one of the gang members not performing to his expectations. On a training jump Busey puts his feet in the top of another guys chute and directs him into power lines, effectively killing him. That in and of itself is great, but it is made ten times better when he lands and you see that he is wearing Zubaz and a black mesh tank top.
Artisic representation

Seriously, if you have a chance, treat yourself. Actors like Gary Busey are in Zubaz maybe once in a lifetime and you will be kicking yourself if you never see this.

Bus Buds

My Lamborghini and helicopter have been in the shop recently and you aren’t allowed to ride horses (even if they are unicorns) in the city, so I have been relying on mass transit and my feet. I can’t say that I mind walking through the city when it’s nice out or getting on a bus that isn’t too packed. What I do mind are certain people on the bus making my ride home miserable. Yesterday was one of those days.

I got to the back of the bus with a bunch off gangster hoochies who must have been in high school. I assume this because they were having a discussion about grades and their current lack of getting good ones. One of these girls took special pride in her apparent lack of school skills. Her quote verbatim;

“Fuck, likes I give a shit about getting a D in that bitch class! On one of those questions I gave my answer as, who da fuck knows”

Who da fuck knows indeed. This young woman’s eloquent explanation of her thoughts on schooling received a very warm reception amongst her peer group. The laughing and cheering was extremely loud even though I had a walkman on (yes, I still have a walkman and I was listening to my Ace of Base mix tape). Needless to say it was not a very relaxed ride home. Has anyone else had a recent tale of woe from the bitch lover that is mass transit?

A new look at Samiches

I just thought I would post today about a new sensation sweeping the interwebs. A few of my adventure loving friends and myself have begun a new website that takes the idea of the sandwich and its rating system to task. This site is an equal opportunity employer(except for vegans, don't push your beliefs on us!). So go ahead and check out the site and then head out for a sandwich. I will be watching you...and stop shaking your head...and wipe your nose for gods sake. When you are done with all that check out the Earl of Samich .

http://earlofsamich.blogspot.com/

Did you have a good time yesterday?

Well then, I hope today your head feels like it is burning from the power of a thousand suns and that your butt feels as if it could explode unwillingly at any moment. I know that's the way I feel.

Happy St. Paddy's

By now I would assume that most people who read this blog are face down in a sewer or having unprotected sex in the back of a bar. I bet that this message won't reach all of you but it needs to be said. No matter what it is that you are going to do to embarass yourself today, do it with pride. If you are going to vomit, do it somewhere that people are going to notice. If you are going to get in a fight, lose a few teeth why don't you. If you are going to make a brazen attempt to hit on some ladies, why not dismiss the formalities and show them your penis from the get go (this applies equally for the ladies, but not if you have a penis)? Simple things like this add to the mistique that is this made up day for alcoholics. Have a great St. Paddy's day and a shot of whiskey(or 10) for your old pal Burt.

Visual Imagery

My good friend Catfish just sent over the above photo with the vague instructions to write about it. Catfish doesn’t have the time to give you details as he is usually fighting a giant fish to the death. To be honest, when I first looked at the photo I was confused as to what it conveyed. Then, very much like the pimp hand to a bottom bitch, the thought hit me. I see it now. The rich imagery and symbolism in this picture is too hard to ignore. Can’t you see it? This picture is obviously about the deal behind the deal.

Imagine for a second that the gentleman in the front represents all of us (if I was that man I would grow a beard, take off that shitty suit, and replace that briefcase with nun chucks). The point that this photo illustrates is that even when we think we are doing well there are shady business practices being negotiated to keep us down. Among the many;

The hotdog and hotdog bun companies’ continual conspiracy to never have any packaging that matches up numerically

The continued fame of Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers (there is some sort of plan being made by Disney right now, and I won’t be surprised if this ends in genoside)

The pairs of socks that magically go missing from my dresser drawers

All these things are going on right under your nose. Wake up people! You have to realize that there is always a deal behind a deal.

Bernie might have a problem

Just the other day I got a note from my friend Bart. Besides being devilishly handsome and a wiz with computers Bart is also coach at Santa Barbara city college. His most recent communication with me was in regards to my brother Bernie. It seems that Bart is concerned Bernie has a problem. He has documented his findings with precision;


Addiction: Chronic Masturbation and Auto-Erotic Asphyxiation

Character Profile:
Bernie (addict):
Bernie has been a chronic masturbator since he was 10. He recalls the amount of time it took to download porn pictures, now he has multiple monitors displaying multiple Voyeurism sites at the same time. He recently discovered Auto-Erotic Asphyxiation and has been taken to the hospital 5 times, because he was found passed out with junk in hand by his mother, father, or sister. He spends $1500.00 a month on internet porn.

Appearance: Scruffy, dirty, shifty eyed, Black and blue ring around his neck

Mannerisms: Right hand constantly moving up and down, soft spoken, never looks into your eyes

Habits: Uses socks to clean up or ejaculates into old tennis ball containers and stores them in his closet. Uses a belt to suffocate himself while masturbating.

Job: Because of his mammoth forearm he arm wrestles people in bars for income.

That is an in-depth analysis. I can just see the intervention for this. Bernie comes home and we are all in the living room drinking tea. He notices that all of his lube and pornography is on the living room table. That’s when the moderator steps in and explains the situation. Right about that time I imagine Bernie cutting the moderators head off with a karate chop, giving all in attendance a death stare/throat slit and running into the woods naked.

Survey: Greatest Movie Villain of all Time

Last weeks post from my cousin Chuck detailed the glory that is the movie Stone Cold. In his letter Chuck speaks volumes about the Brotherhood’s gang leader Chains (that’s him above). Chains is the type of bad guy that puts people’s hands into moving motorcycle wheels and sends rival gang members heads to their leaders in a fancy box with a bow. He is fucking nuts, you see.

This got me thinking of villains from other movies. The type of character that I would gladly take as an arch nemesis, and there are quite a lot of them. There is the silky smooth business man and karate expert Peter Dellaplane(Craig T. Nelson) from Action Jackson. Another is the corrupt politician Senator Vernon Trent(William Sadler) who kills Steven Segal’s entire family in Hard to Kill. So many to choose from but in the end I had to pick a favorite. I pick CHONG LI.

You may remember Chong Li(Bolo Yeung) from a little movie called Bloodsport. A movie that showcases the underground battle know as the Kumite and JCVD’s skills at doing the splits. Chong Li is great for so many reasons but I thought I would list a few;

He flexes his titties after killing guys in the ring.

He hates JCVD for no apparent reason.

He speaks very few lines but they are powerful. “Very good. But brick not hit back!”

He crushes ogres skull in and takes his Harley Davidson bandana.

He cheats in the final fight.

All tremendous reasons for why I have selected him as my top villain of all time. Now I want to hear from you. Who is, in your opinion, the greatest movie villain of all time? You can just say a name but explanations make it so much better.

Wednesday deserves this

An anonymous submitter had this to say in the comments section from the have a good time at the DMV dickwad post. Anonymous asked;

I vote that he gets stuck in a elevator with his ex mother in law and his ex girl wacko friend and his boss. You get to pick the music.

I think that sounds like a horrible way to treat Wednesday, so of course I loved that suggestion. The only problem is I couldn't translate that idea into an artistic representation. Then I started to think about how great it would be if Wednesday was stuck in an elevator. For a long time. So long that he would have to open the mysterious jar in the elevator to pee in. Only that jar is filled up with a weeks worth of my farts. Breathe in that sweet aroma my friend.

We need to stop Octomom or the terrorists have won

I can’t take it any longer. Octomom needs to be stopped. Evidently, she is currently moving into a brand new home that her father is putting into his name. This is happening while the family’s current home is being foreclosed upon because they are $20,000 behind in mortgage payments. Meanwhile, that old, rotund, balding, huckleberry Dr. Phil is providing her with a volunteer group's offer of nursing care for her children. Fuck this lady. Can’t anyone see what is going on? This is obviously an attempt from al Queda to breed armies of baby terror cells through in vitro fertilization.

It makes perfect sense. The terrorists have been foiled by America’s fortification of national security and as a response al queda has done what it has many times before, they have adapted their strategy. Obviously, they are trying to weaken America from the inside out. This plan is brilliant. The terrorists have a bunch of their female operatives come to the United States to have as many babies as possible through in vitro fertilization. Being total dipshits for a sob story, we will support these terror cell families with government programs and non profits. As we continue to fall into economic crises these families will suck on the fat teet that is America, silently waiting for their window of opportunity to strike.

You may laugh at me know, maybe even a few years from now. But what about 18 years from now when you see a group of eight brain damaged people with gigantic oversized lips and AK-47’s start taking you hostage at your favorite Applebee’s? Who will be laughing then? Octomom and Osama Bin Laden, that’s who!

Happy Birthday Boz

Today is a very momentous day for our special guy Boz. It's somebodies birthday!!!He may still be incarcerated for his little drunk driving stunt but my cousin chuck, the brotherhood and I have a plan to bust him out and take him to a titty bar for his birthday, just like old times. So Boz, do me a favor? Get out a razor and cut some fresh new power lines in the side of your head because it is time to party. Also, stay away from the window of your cell. We have the helicopter and some low grade C4 so you should be out shortly.

HUGEMAN!!!!

You have opened up a can of worms Hugeman. A can of worms armed with ninja stars and a deadly diuretic nerve toxin. Nobody insults me like that and gets away with it. Look at you all pretty, talking about your abs and doing movies with Nicole Kidman. Guess what? Nobody saw that stinking pile of shit movie about your homeland. I heard that they offered the copies of Australia DVD’s that didn’t sell as building materials for homeless housing and they rejected it in favor of cardboard. Also, for your information they are writing a movie about America and I am the star of it. It’s called One Man Saves the Indians, Finds Gold, and Tames the Bejesus out of the Frontier With Only a Bowie Knife and His Wits (working title). You had best believe that I will not be wearing any clothes throughout the duration of that entire film.
Basically, Hugeman, you need to disappear. For the next time that I see you or smell your dirty stench even a hundred miles from me I will track you down and put an end to all this fancy dancing and singing. You have riled the wrong rooster, opened the wrong tiger cage, and shat the bed for that last time. I would keep my head on a swivel if I were you.

Burt

P.S. I thought I would doll you up a bit cutie pie.

That a boy BOZ!

I read this article on The Hub this morning about Brian Bosworth getting a DUI on his Harley in Southern California. Now I take drinking and driving very seriously but I have to say this is awesome. That at boy BOZ! I think that we can safely say that it is time for the Brotherhood to make a comeback. The Boz getting a DUI is step one in bringing the gang back to the streets. Step two is getting our hands on weapons and a sizeable amount of methamphetamines, which we all know are the lifeblood of any serious biker gang.

Burt...Burt...Burt (an open letter from Jack Hugeman)

Well it looks as though Mr. Hugeman differs with my opinion from Tuesday's post The gauntlet has been thrown down .It seems as though Mr. Hugeman has taken umbrage to my thoughts on him and his credentials. A letter from Mr. Hugeman;

G'Day Burt. Jack Hugeman's got 2 things to say.

#1 Please Burt, look at a picture of your bloody banana bending unicorns crack a fat one and skin your own dingo before you poison the world with your mongrel ankle biters.

# 2: Your an old blimey Sheepshagger Burt, teasing little interweb yanks with stories about that are about as boring as staring at a Aborignee's black balls. Real men in the 21st century have good abs and are multi-talented, Burt. In one year (2008), I hunted down a Mutant X Sabertooth with my Wolverine claws, I bet the Japs while diddling Nicole Kidman (has you country ever asked you to star in it's biopic...afraid not my friend) and sang a danced like a poofter at the Oscars.

Burt, your about as threatening as frog in a sock and I am as cunning as a dunny rat (very cunning). If your step to me again Burt, I'll be grinning like a shit fox while emptying a gutful of piss on your grave.

G'DAY Burt.

I didn't understand half of that you kangaroo fucking jackass but rest assured I will have a thorough and thought provoking response to this letter. For now, suck my balls.

Have fun at the movies pervert

This Wednesday's idea once again came from the 5th Year;

Next Wednesday I vote he has to go see every showing of the JONAS BROTHERS IN 3D in matching trench coats with KEVIN BACON.

This whole idea is very uncomfortable.

The gauntlet has been thrown down

Well this morning I received a little notice on Facebook from my friend the real magician letting me know that my beard is in no way equal to that of Jack Hugeman. First of all, I have been growing my beard for the better part of three decades. It has been declared legally bulletproof and it houses four types of poisonous bugs that make lice shit their pants. This beard can operate independantly of myself it has such a life of its own. Secondly, and much more importantly, Jack Hugeman is a hack. He is the poor man's version of me only he is from Australia. The only cool things that he has going for him are his accent and the electronic terminator like eye that he has(I took his other eye in a knife fight). So my magic friend, I would take a little time to think before you insult me again or you are going to end up looking like this;

Nice eye fancy lad. Oh and Hugeman, if I even get a whiff of you talking shit about me, I am taking that other eye out and shoving it up your dickhole.

A new shit term

I have always enjoyed creative ways of saying that you need to take a shit. I could go on forever but here are a few of my favorites;

Taking the children to the pool

Cutting some rope

Taking the Cleveland Browns to the Super Bowl

Blowing mud

There are so many wonderful ones to use I couldn't possibly try to name them all here. However, just this weekend I came up with one more. When I was using the bathroom at my friend Shrek's work I stumbled upon an older issue of Entertainment Magazine and as I began to do work I opened up to an article about a certain actor that I am quite fond of. So in a tribute to his work and humorous ways to talk about taking dumps I would like to introduce you to the newest shit term on the block, a Robert Browney Jr.

FEATS OF STRENGTH!!!

On occasion I am privileged to get together with some of my closest hunting buddies (megaladon and Bigfoot mostly) and have a round table discussion over a finely crafted batch of moonshine. The setting of this discussion was my downstairs rumpus room, or as some people like to call it, my sex dungeon. Anyhoo, after a few strong pulls of the moonshine a feats of strength competition was begun. Each person would display a feat of strength and the other people would have to match it, very much like a game of horse. The game went on for quite some time without anyone getting as much as a letter on the board. That was when my good friend (I will not mention names) threw down the gauntlet and challenged everyone to imagine having sex with Octomom without puking. Game Over. Evening ruined. And my sex dungeon is a complete disaster. Thanks a lot you nasty ass.

A little something for the ladies

Last week I posted some scorching hot pictures as a way to lure people to this blog. Guess what? It worked. Then I got to thinking and realized that I had completely neglected the ladies and men who crave some hot man meat. I want you to be able to read about me having diarrhea at the DMV too. So without any further ado check out this little treasure trove of pictures and try not to get too riled up. I had to drink three frescas in order to finish this post I was so hot and bothered.

Have a good time at the DMV dickwad

I took the advice of Skinny Stewart and decided that I would torture Wednesday by sending him to the DMV. Seriously, a DMV visit is something I would only wish upon my worst enemies. I can confidently say that for each time I go to the DMV there has been a negative experience associated with it. Some of the more unfortunate incidents include;

Getting close to the front of the line and having explosive diarrhea kick in(I held it).

Watch a deadbeat haggle with the lady at the counter about why he can’t move forward with his car registration because he has unpaid child support (he looked like Bob Ross the painter but I don’t think he knew how to paint happy trees).

Dealing with the lady at the counter right after the deadbeat.

Listening to a thuggish young man haggle about speaker and rim prices with his “shorty” the entire time I was in line.

The diarrhea thing was really bad.

So I can only hope that Wednesday comes down with a case of the scoots when I send him down to the DMV today. Maybe this will make Wednesday take things easier on me and make itself somewhat bearable. Right now he is not off to a good start.