They won’t make the cake?!?

These two inbred yokels inbred yokels named their child Adolf Hitler Campbell. That’s little Adolf in the picture above. They are now upset that a certain bakery will not put his name on his birthday cake. Here are some other things that I imagine also are upsetting these people this week;

Black people

The three R’s: Reading Riting and Rithmotic

Toothbrushes

Not being able to marry your cousin

Jimmy Johnson winning in NASCAR (faggot Californians)

Condoms

Pro-fo-lacktics

People who talk all fancy and think they is better cause they are book learned past grade 8

Jewish people

Rubix cubes

The Trans-Ams transmission

Indoor bathrooms

I think that they just need to take a little time and work on their anger management. Maybe even a new hobby or meditation could be the trick into leading a healthier happier existence.

Well of course he resisted

The other day my buddy Al Onion missed work to perform his civic duty of trying to avoid jury duty. Luckily, he was able to get out of it. Or was he? It turns out that the case in question was a police brutality incident that involved a 75 year old man. More specifically, it involved a 75 year old man that resisted arrest after his wife called the cops on him because he was watching a porno. The SF Chronicle has the article here . Some of the highlights from the article;

“The unusual case began when Raymond J. Miller, a retired city employee who served as a Municipal Railway superintendent and worked at the port, was sitting in an easy chair in the living room of his home on Texas Street, drinking and watching the movie the night of Jan. 7, 2006, according to witness testimony.”

“Four officers soon arrived at the Millers' home. Raymond Miller, wearing only shorts, continued to watch the movie and ignored the officers as they walked past him and spoke to his wife, who said she feared he would kill her at any time, authorities said.”

“Miller testified that his wife's accusations mystified him. He said he had simply invited her to watch a "sexually explicit" movie, but that "she decided she didn't like it."

"All of a sudden, she decided to call 911," he told the jury. "She had no reason to call police - I told her, 'If you don't want to watch it, it's up to you.' "


So the cops eventually have to subdue this guy with force which resulted in a broken arm. Fuck yeah they had to subdue him with force. This guy is at home trying to get a little wristy and his wife decides to bring the cops in to it. Lady, he asked you if you wanted to watch it with him. What is your problem? If someone is going to try and get in my way when I want to have a nice leisurely jerk they better come with a small army. They better be armed with the most sophisticated weaponry available on the planet to subdue me if I am catching a little time with Rosy Palms and her five sisters. This man should be awarded the full amount that he seeks, a new pair of shorts and an apology from the police department and governor.

That’s not how you rob a bank

Recently four young women tried to rob a bank using a tongue and cheek instruction manual off of the internet. You can read about these bright young pillars of the community here . Let’s just say that they weren’t that successful. However, it did give me some time to think about robbing banks and what I think makes a successful bank robber. You have to have a gimmick.

I started thinking about was how a gimmick is rarely used these days when one robs a bank. Sure, the movie Point Break inspired a generation of bank robbers into using costumes in order to pull off a heist but I think we have seen the creativity of that decline in recent time. The most recent person that I can think of that had an interesting calling card was either the guy who dressed up as an old lady or the guy who came to banks in bicycle gear (I think he was called the 10 speed bandit or something stupid like that). All that makes me think that it might be the time for someone with a new and even wackier plan to take this bank robbing business to the next level.

I want to rob banks in gigantic fruit costumes. Think about how sweet that would be. When you come into the bank people probably think that you work for some mattress place or the farmers market and then BAM! You pull out the gun and tell them to hand it all over. Those costumes are so big that you can just dump the money inside. Of course, running is going to be a problem but at that point you will probably have arranged for some sort of ride by now. The best part is that you could use different fruit for every job.

I bet the news would give you some name like the Fruit of the Loom gang or the Fruit Basket Bandit. Of course, sooner or later this is going to end because you get caught, feel you have made enough to justify retirement or you run out of gigantic fruit costumes. Even if you do get caught you could probably write a book about it between random rapings and knife fights. Any other ideas?

Oh soooooo sorry Stephanie

Inevitably in life we all deal with people who don’t associate with us in ways that we would appreciate. I learned long ago that people are going to deal with things differently and that one must remain calm. Take my neighbor Stephanie and her spandex wearing boyfriend that live below me. I don’t know his name but let’s go with douchebag. Anyways, Stephanie and Douchebag live on the floor below me in an apartment complex (my mansion is under renovation right now and I won’t move in until the fountains are finished). About a month ago I invited a couple of gentleman over to watch the Monday night football game at my place. I had been in the apartment for about three weeks and this was the first time that I had guests over to the house. At about seven pm I hear what sounds like some very angry buzzer ringing and door pounding outside my door. When I opened the door this is what I saw;

The conversation we had went like this;

ME: Oh hi, I am sorry are we being loud?

Megabitch: YES YOU ARE BEING LOUD BUT THAT”S NOT WHY I CAME UP….THERE IS ALSO STOMPING….STOMPING!!!

Me: Oh I am so very so….

Megabitch: (interrupting) LISTEN I KNOW THERE IS A FOOTBALL GAME ON TONIGHT BUT THIS HAS TO STOP. I MEAN THERE IS STOMPING.

ME: I’m sorry. Listen my name is Burt and I just moved in here. I am sorry we had to meet on these terms. What’s your name?

Megabitch: STEPHAAAANIE!!! (tapping feet)

ME: Okay Stephanie..well it was nice to meet you and I will make sure to try and keep it down.

Megabitch: YEAH WELL COULD YOU PLEASE DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE STOMPING (Still in my doorway)

Me: Okay Stephanie I will make sure that this doesn’t happen again.

Megabitch: WELL GOOD. (gives some sort of glare and walks back down the stairs)

So megabitch waddles her unhappy ass down stairs and I legitimately feel bad about getting off to such a rough start with my new neighbor. Then after a few more tall cans (Joe Montana’s = 16 oz cans) I started to think about the whole situation and I realized that there is no fucking way I should have apologized. It was 7 o’clock at night. If there was any stomping it wasn’t going to be consistent and she knew there was a football game on. Basically, I have boiled it down to the fact that she thinks she is in charge of how things run in this building and she likes things a certain way. Well Steph, if I can call you Steph, I have a feeling that if you want to come by and try to tell me how it is again it won’t be the same type of cordial situation. So you can take your high and mighty, passive aggressive note writing, spandex wearing emasculated boyfriend having, no fun tight ass attitude and save it for the lady who lives above me playing bongos at 8am in the morning on a Sunday. BIATCH.

Greatest Cube Ever

At one of my various places of employ I sit across from this wondorous workstation. It makes House Party 1 look like House Party 2.

My brother the zoologist

The other day I was sent an email with a picture that informed me of my brother’s current occupation. Yes, I have a brother. His name is Bernard Destruction (we call him Bernie). I am not saying that we aren’t close. We are very close. I just don’t really ask him about his job because I would assume that he is doing something that I wouldn’t want to hear about, like being a stripper or cleaning out the peep booths at adult video stores. Well it turns out that our friend the Real Magician found out that Bernie is working for an aquarium. This is my brother’s response to having his secret occupation revealed;

It was supposed to be a surprise asshole. I feel relieved that my darkest secret is out in the open now. When I say that I have to work on the weekends this is what im doing. It all started when I was listening to a Lynyrd Skynyrd album and drinking some Old Crow. I thought to myself, "I haven’t done anything exciting with my life." At that point I contacted an old friend of mine who specializes in artificial insemination of reptiles. He set me up with an alligator wrestler named John Saint Claire. If you’ve never met John before than let me tell you that you shouldn’t. John has killed over 97 species of animals, some so secret that he cant talk about them. John taught me that gators are sensitive creatures and that they just need compassion and a tender touch....That’s when he fisted the fucking thing and made it tap out. John has taught me so much and that is why I have decided to live on the edge every sat. and fist me some gator. If you guys want to fly down to lawsiana and see me in my prime contact me at gatorfister.edu or at 1800 428-3478 (Gat Fist). Gators are pussies btw.

143
Bernie

I am proud of you no matter what it is you do Bernster. Just remember to never tell me if you start hooking, because hooking takes your soul.

Wednesday sleeps with the fishes

You aren't going find Nemo down there asshole.

Had to post this picture

I performed a google image search for myself to see if anyone had painted an oil painting of me. What I found instead, besides the picture of a jockey riding a dolphin, was this amazing picture. It looks like the Indian version of Burt Reynolds. There is really no point I am trying to make other than to say it arouses me.

I want to be a giant Douche

The best part is that it is not as hard as one would think. Here are a few tips.

1) Switch from deodorant to Musk
2) Only buy Affliction shirts and pre torn jeans
3) Tons of pointy shoes
4) Grow hair then gel it….a lot.
5) Start listening to a lot of Kanye
6) Lease a car way out of my price range
7) Get rid of all casual clothes
8) Fancy gym membership
9) Tribal tattoo or, even better, a barbed wire tribal tattoo
10) Fancy silk underwear

If you have any other tips I would greatly appreciate them.

No words

My friend Al Onion sent this website over to me. There really is no way to explain it. Do me a favor. Take some time to go through the site and see what you think. The legend of Santa Cat is coming but in the meantime please treat yourself to this site.

Walk the plank you lilly liver

All up in the club

I think that is how you refer to the act of going to a club. This past Friday I was lucky enough to be invited to a party at a club downtown for Skinny Stewart’s birthday bash. I would rather not give you the name of the place but it had two stories and DJ’s on both levels!!! I know, sooooo awesome. So there are a few observations that I think are worth noting because I am not very familiar with clubs and I think that these things could help you understand whether or not you would like to go to them.

Music
This is probably the first thing you are going to notice about the place because you can hear it before you even get inside. If you like your music loud with a lot of base then you will be pleasantly surprised. It takes a while to get used to being deaf but if having conversations in sign language and having your ears bleed is your thing, then by all means check a club out.

Drinks
I am not going to lie. Your best bet would be to pound a flask of whiskey and then bank on stealing people’s drinks when they aren’t looking, these places are expensive. If you get caught you will get thrown out, and if you don’t get caught you will have free drinks. However, if you really do want to get kicked out try vomiting in a trash can.

Ambiance and Décor
This place looked like something out of that movie with Yennifer Lopez, The Cell. It looked like someone threw old blankets in the ceiling with track lighting. Another nice touch was the very modern furniture although you can’t sit on it unless you are paying for bottle service. I really wanted to sit on one of those circular couches. Frowny face.

Dance floor
Seriously, watch the fuck out. Do not try to cross the dance floor with any type of drink in hand. Dance Floors are like battle fields where full drinks go to die. You will be in a trance from looking at all the funny faces people make when they boogie and then BAM, ass hits your cocktail hand and there goes that mixed drink you worked so hard on stealing is gone forever.

Cool people
There are so many cool people at these places that if you are somewhat of a regular Joe like me you might be ashamed of how awesome these people are. When I walked by those guys with the polo shirts and ties on I knew I had made a mistake. I did not come with my jewelry and toolery in check. Also, I don’t own a pair of pointy dress shoes and the lack of gel in my hair was noticeable. I could feel the burning stares from the cool guys’ eyes.

I don’t know if any of this is helpful. I just thought that I would add a view from my perspective. Which is, if someone invites you to a club the best thing to do is to show up in a tshirt, shorts and flip flops, incredibly drunk with glowsticks in your hands, and no wallet. That way they won’t let you in and you can instead go to the strip club across the street.

SANTA CAT

Expect to hear a lot from this little guy in the coming weeks.

They should make No Holds Barred 2

At the pinnacle of Hulk Hogan’s career he graced the silver screen with a tour de force acting performance as the wrestler simply known as Rip in No Holds Barred. He literally does not have a last name in the movie. It is just Rip. Among other retarded things about this movie is the synopsis that is featured on IMDB;

Rip is the World Wrestling Federation champion who is faithful to his fans and the network he wrestles for. Brell, the new head of the World Television Network, wants Rip to wrestle for his network. Rip refuses and goes back to his normal life. Still looking for a way to raise ratings, Brell initiates a show called "The Battle of the Tough Guys", a violent brawling competition. A mysterious man, Zeus, wins the competition. This gets Brell to use him as an angle to get at Rip.

What the synopsis fails to mention is that Rips’s little brother in the movie tries to fight on "The Battle of the Tough Guys" and he gets his face beat in by Zeus. Not just his face but pretty much his entire body. He is laid up in his hospital bed when Rip comes to speak with him. It is a very tender moment with a lot of “brothers” and arm flexing. In my younger more formative years it made me a bit teary eyed. Wait, there was a point I was trying to make. Oh yes, they should make another one of these movies. However, I think we should go in a unique direction as far as second films go.

They should make this movie as a re-imagining not a sequel. This is the perfect way for this film to be made again. I mean how sweet was Batman Begins? Imagine, if you will, that the Hulkster is reprising his role as Rip. Only this time we could make him be at the back end of his career, just like in real life. He could once again be approached by this Brell character to fight in his new show. Rip will again decline the offer and say that he wants to go out on top. This is where the story takes a new turn.

After being rebuffed by Rip, Brell decides to extend the offer to Rip’s children played by his real life son and daughter. Nick Hogan will be taking over the role of Rip’s brother. Brooke will be playing the role of Zeus. You see, Brell will offer the two siblings contracts only if they fight each other in the very first fight. Of course they accept, and then Brooke obliterates Nick (obviously, She’s huge!) putting him into a coma just like the real life one his “friend” is in. We could even take out a chunk of his head. This sets the stage for a repeat of the emotional hospital scene in which Rip vows to seek revenge on the person that did this to his family.

The final scene of the movie will be a battle to the death between Hulk and Brooke. They will fight through a shopping mall and obliterate walls and store fronts in one of the most epic one on one battles in cinema history. They will fight all the way to the top floor where, at the same time, they each grab one another and fall down three stories in a double fatal power slam. The medic arrives and after checking and finding no pulse on either of them gets tears in his eyes and does one final three second count. 1….2….3….! Then they head to a shot of Nick still in the coma and then there is a three second count on the vitals 1…..2….3…. flatline!!! Fade to black.

Newsflash: People care about Swayze

I just thought I would share some interesting comments about the Patrick Swayze post that I received on Friday. Each comment was interesting in its own right. The first response was lighthearted and it also included this photo;

the fact that you were actually watching roadhouse shows that you are really in love with the dirty dancer.

c'mon admit it - it's ok

I liked this response. I thought that it made a lot of sense. Maybe I am in love with Patrick and I just don’t have the emotional maturity to admit it.

The second response I received was definitely someone from the Swayze fan club(SWAYZIACS?). This person dropped a little bit of knowledge and a threat to go with it;

Doubt it, pal! Patrick Swayze is a legit "black sash" in tai chi. His mother thought it would be a good idea to sign him up for martial arts as a child because he was a dancer and was teased and picked on quite a bit. As far as the scenario you put forth, if you pull out a switchblade in a club you deserve a severe ass wuppin' no question, "ogling some dancing floozy and then this guy who is about 5’2” with a gigantic feathered mane of hair comes up and tells you to knock it off. What the fuck? Of course I am going to pull out a weapon and tell this guy to piss off" and of course you should not be suprised when you get hurled out of that bar like a frisbee either for being an asshole.

I am not sure if this person is joking or not, but they definitely know their Swayze. I had no idea he participated in some fruity martial art that I have never heard of. You learn something new every day.

The final message I received really has me thinking. If anyone can explain to me what this means I will give you a cookie.

Go back go sucking dicks in prison, you lying shit eater.

Sure….sounds good?

I would have knocked Swayze out

I was watching Roadhouse the other night and one scene in particular really made me think about Swayze and his cooling techniques that he employs throughout the film. Swayze’s character Daulton definitely has a nuanced manner of dealing with people that are disruptive at the bar. He employs the Mantra “BE NICE” in dealing with customers that are having a little too much fun. Basically, he wants his bouncers to try and diffuse the issue without violence so that the attitude in the bar makes one feel safe. With that being said I think that he is not particularly fair to one of the patrons in the beginning of the film.

The particular scene that I am speaking about is Swayze’s first night on the job. He has laid out the ground rules to the employees of what he expects and often repeats his “BE NICE” theory of handling things. The night starts off pretty standard but as the drinking increases so does the rowdiness. One chesty patron decides that the band isn’t enough to entertain the crowd and takes it upon herself to add a little spice to the evening. She gets up on a table and starts dancing to the delight of many and they disapproval of one, Swayze. So PS looks at one of the bouncers and tells him to get her down. Well that’s not happening because one particularly drunk dude with an awesome Hawaiian shirt on does not want this party to stop (why should he?). He throws the one bouncer out of the way and goes back to enjoying the show. Well Swayze has seen enough and goes over to diffuse the situation. By “diffuse the situation” I mean he goes over and gets the guy to pull a knife on him before throwing this dude’s head through a table. This is then followed by a tremendously intense hair whip. In the movie this seems like a pretty reasonable action to be taken by Swayze but I actually have a big problem with what this whole situation. Hear me out for a second.

This bar, the Double Deuce, has been a shithole for years. It is a bar where the band has to play behind chicken wire and the waitresses are selling drugs to the patrons. Swayze expects that his first night on the job people are just going to learn a whole new way to get drunk at their favorite bar. If I am going to a bar with sawdust on the floor I am expecting for all types of crazy shit to happen. Also, I am at least bringing some type of rudimentary weapon in case somebody thinks that I may be a little harsh with my criticism of the band or I have been looking at their woman too long. So imagine that you are in cool Hawaiian shirt guy’s shoes. You are in a bar ogling some dancing floozy and then this guy who is about 5’2” with a gigantic feathered mane of hair comes up and tells you to knock it off. What the fuck? Of course I am going to pull out a weapon and tell this guy to piss off. The one notable exception is that I would have not gotten my head thrown through a table. I would have taken it to the floor and painted his face with my fists of justice. All I need is a line better than the guy at the end who explains that he used to fuck guys like Swayze in prison.

I am thinking about getting a new scar

I have scars all over my body. They tell many stories. There is the large diamond shaped scar on my back that was the result of a megalodon bite. I fell asleep one time under water and one of those damn things bit me. It was completely my fault. I have a scar on my knee from when I tore my ACL in the first mile of the New York City Marathon. It’s much bigger than the normal ACL repair because I decided to finish that god damned race. I am still on a list to get robot knees.

These scars and many others allow me to tell war stories and have visual evidence to provide. It also makes for a very sexy conversation with women. Do you remember that scene in Lethal Weapon where Mel Gibson and Renee Russo compare scars until they are almost naked and then they do it? Yeah, that happens to me all the time. It usually gets pretty hot and heavy when I show my penis scar. Nothing sexy about that though. I just tried to jump a barb wired fence when I was drunk and naked. It was not because I had some crazy sex marathon.

I guess the point I am trying to make is that scars are pretty sweet and badass. My problem is that all of my scars are neatly hidden under my clothes. That’s why I want to get a scar where everyone will notice. The first thought is my face but I figure that people will think I am trying to copy Scarface. You know, because I am down with the hip hop culture and I sell copious amounts of cocaine. I don’t want to do that because BD is his own person. I want a scar that is original. I want a scar across my neck.

Is there someone out there that could make a nice long scar across my neck without killing me? It will have to be really big and crooked looking. The reason for that is I already have a story to go along with it. It would go something like this;

Oh yeah you noticed that. I am a little self conscious about it….okay yeah I will tell you how it happened. I am the last highlander. That movie is based on my life although I would have asked for someone a little bit taller than Christopher Lambert. Anyhoo, the only way that the other immortals could kill me was by chopping off my head. They got pretty close but I managed to fend them off with my karate skills and ninja stars. Yeah that was about 500 years ago….so I have had this thing for a while. What? What’s that you say? Take of all my clothes and show you the rest of my scars. I guesss……

I am pretty sure that’s how it would happen.

What if it was the other way around?

Torri, is that you?

Occasionally I like to take the posts that I write for the blog and post them on craigslist’s Rants and Raves section. If you are not familiar this is a forum where people can spew illiterate racism, post pictures of their penises and sometimes write something that actually has some value. Among the greatest I have read was from a gentleman looking for henchmen
and another who wrote about the shortcomings of shaving his ass crack . In general it is a pretty wide open forum. So you can imagine my shock when after writing articles and posting them people write some pretty interesting stuff to me.
Here is one of my favorites;

In regards to the A small dream post;
I couldn't think of anything more appropriate than having a shit factory named after you. With all the shitty stories you've been writing, you are more than qualified. You've got my vote.

Obviously, this person is not a very big fan. This is pretty typical of the constructive criticism that I get from the people of craigslist. However, I wanted to take the time to focus on one of the more recent comments that I received. Last week I posted my findings on Torri Spelling syndrome and apparently I hit a nerve. Here is what the person who read my findings had to say;


1. it's Tori, not Torri.

2. you seem jealous of those of us that have connections because of our parents. your parents are failures, and the sooner you acknowledge this, the better off you will be.

3. 90210 was on-air for 10 seasons; clearly they (including Tori Spelling) knew how to act, otherwise losers such as yourself would not have tuned in weekly, let alone for 10 years.

4. you have too much time on your hands. get a hobby, loser.

When I read this I immediately came to one and only one conclusion. This comment is from Torri herself. No way is there anyone on this entire earth that cares enough about Torri Spelling to write those things, no one. I can imagine her sitting down and thinking that she just nailed me with her numbered responses. “Oh man I got him,” she would think to herself as the gap between her breasts grows noticeably larger and her eyes protrude further from her skull. Then she would grow the wings of Satan and disappear into the depths of hell to rule the demons for all eternity. Yep, I am pretty sure that’s exactly what happened.

Damn these opposable thumbs

Why did I have to be born with opposable thumbs? What did I do to deserve this kind of horrible fate? Frankly, I do not know. I find myself wondering how much easier my life would be if I didn’t have these damn things. People would look upon me with sad eyes and offer to help me eat cereal or pen a letter in calligraphy. You may question why I would like to limit myself physically like this and the answer is that I am extremely lazy. I would gladly give up the use of my thumbs to have more things done for me by others. When people would ask if I could help them move I would just shake my head and look down at my hands saying something like, “(sigggghhhh)…..I wish I could help you, if I only had opposable thumbs.” Then I would look away like I was going to cry or have a nervous breakdown. That way people would think that I really wanted to help them but due to my physical limitations I could not. In reality I could totally grab some stuff if I really wanted to, but they don’t know that. Yes, I have looked into surgery and that is not an option. I am still waiting for someone to come up with a formula to render my thumbs useless, but for now I can only dream.