Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Gay Marriage Will Kill Your Children and Other Stories


So, I noticed this really cool website the other day: Pricehooker. What you do is you name your own price, the place where you will be screwing the hooker, and then give a star rating as to how hot the hooker must be.
I ended up with Tara Reid in Seattle for 60 bucks. Not the best lay, but it was worth it.

Prop 9: Ban Straight Marriage

Really, could we get this going?
This isn't even in reference to gay marriage. No, I have a selfish agenda: I'm tired of buying wedding gifts. Four marriages in one month is too much.
So, I've seen what those Prop 8 people have done and while I disagree with them, I like their style: ban what you don't like.
Some more:

Prop 10: Stop having fucking children all the time
Prop 11: Make women stop turning me down for sex
Prop 12: Make American Idol illegal
Prop 13: Don't write duplicate jokes in different forms in the same blog
Prop 14: Stop downvoting me on social networks for "not being funny"
Prop 15: Stop sending me flyers to your church "without the weird stuff"
Prop 16: Stop writing this fucking post

Hammer, P.I.

It was late. The office was closed and Hammer was just settling in to his Scotch and Soda when the phone rang.
"Hammer, here."
"Mr. Hammer, I have an interesting opportunity for you."
"Who is this?"
"That's what I want to know."
"What do you mean?"
"I want to pay you to figure out who I am."
"But, don't you know who you are?"
"Now that I've thought about it, I won't be needing your services."
Hammer never thought things through.

That Time I Smuggled A Car Into Canada

That pretty much says it all. But, the deets:
A girlfriend was being deported (kinda, long story) and she was taking her car. After an hour of me trying to explain that you couldn't just simply drive a car into another country without properly licensing it, I gave up. The next weekend I was driving the car into Canada. On the way out when they asked me what I was doing in Canada I told them the truth – if only to spite the girlfriend when she saw how much trouble she caused. After five hours with the American Border Patrol I was released.
So, you can see how I showed her.

Could You All Stop Getting Married and Having Children for One Goddamn Second

I'm serious. Every other day someone has become pregnant or gotten married. I've been to about nine weddings and six deliveries in the last month and I'm getting tired.
Sure, I understand that you need to get married and you need to procreate because you are in love with yourself and need to validate yourself and then reproduce yourself because your ego is so fucking
But I'm getting off track. Point is: stop it. Look, we have Facebook now. If you are one of my friends, then do me the kindness of arranging your marriage or children around my other 199 friends. I want to see 3 marriages and 3 births a year TOPS!
This isn't sour grapes. Sure, I may be a large type asshole, but that doesn't mean I couldn't find some skank to marry me or have my children. See, I'm kind and courteous – I'm waiting till I'm forty so that I won't burden you with my nuptials/children when you have nineteen other friends doing the same thing.
It's just common courtesy.

Gay Marriage Will Kill Your Children

It's true. Many of you have been up in arms about the Prop 8 decision. Well, let me just tell you: we dodged a bullet.
Sure, casinos, cigarettes, alcohol, and American Idol are still legal – but gay marriage isn't just some trivial distraction. No, gay marriage is the leading cause of cancer in some study that Joseph Coors did at this camp in 88 when I was 12.
Have you noticed how many states are trying to make gay marriage legal and how many people have been dying from it? Well, open your eyes, jackass.
Last night I finished a bottle of whiskey after smoking three packs of cigarettes, and while I felt a bit hungover, I certainly wasn't dead. Like how gay marriage would have made me.
Sure, I'm not gay today, but what about tomorrow? I wake up gay and decide to get married and then BAM – I'm dead from gay marriage. I don't want that. And you shouldn't want that. And the courts shouldn't want that.
Gay marriage kills.

Alcoholism is a Drag

So, I woke up this morning and I had a totally bad case of the alcoholism. There was this dire feeling that I needed to get a drink really soon or I would die!!! So, I opened a bottle of absinthe and then chased it with beer. The alcoholism went away, but now I feel it coming on again. It's lunch, so I should be able to make it out for a sixer. I haven't felt this alcoholic in years!!!!

Judge Sotomayer: The Verdict is In

And that verdict is SEXY.
This morning I woke up with some major wood and wondered just what was going on? I could remember having a dream, but it was far from wet. I looked around my room and noticed no pornography. Something was in the air. Eventually, after a long shower, I made it into work and read the news. "Ah, I see." I said looking down at my genitals.
It seemed one Barack Obama had decided to sexify the high court. Well, it didn't get by my bone-dar.
Sonia, you are one sexy MF.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Don't Ever Say I Never Told You to Fuck Off

I Bought Cologne the Other Day

It's true. I went to the mall and I had just received a 401K loan to blow and the shoe store was out of boots, so I went and got rid of the money by buying cologne. It was an odd experience. It didn't seem gay or unmanly – it seemed really dorky. I mean, I'm almost 33. Shouldn't I be passed buying cologne? Shouldn't the cutoff for cologne be there with cocaine, wine coolers, and Mel Brooks movies? Well, I ended up lying and saying that it was a gift. As I said this I sprayed cologne in my eye and started weaving around the cologne counter knocking cologne off the counters and running into other shoppers. I was screaming like a banshee when I was finally tackled by mall security.
I ended up getting Aqua Gio.

Don't Ever Say I Never Told You to Fuck Off

Seriously. Don't you remember? You asked if I wanted to drive you to work? It was like 1993. I got pissed and told you to fuck off. You were in my house. Well, my Mom's house. How can you say that I never have told you fuck off? You really don't know me.

My Favorite Firework

I think my favorite firework is that one with the bread and the cheese and the ham and the mayo and the mustard and – wait, that's a sandwich. My favorite firework is the Testicle Hammer!

In the Afterlife

So, last week I told you that I would field any questions about the afterlife. So, this week I'll answer.

Shuttles. That's a big part of the afterlife. There are shuttles that go all over the universe. They are white and they have wheels and they ride on roads. Just like in reality, but you're in heaven and you don't have to pay dues or thank the guy and stuff.
Hell is not paved in gold. No, it's paved in human excrement, entrails, and mucus. It's hard to walk on. You slip a lot. And when you slip you fall into this humongous pit of fire. Then you see this huge air conditioner – but it's broken. But then you see the one that works, you turn it on, and then the fire goes out and everyone looks around with that face that says "Why didn't I think of that?"
God. God is not huge. He's not white. He doesn't wear a robe. Beyond that, I don't know much about him, but he wasn't thrilled with the whole hell air conditioner working.
Jesus. He didn't exist. That's the first thing they tell you up there. You get off the shuttle and this dude goes "SPOILER ALERT!" And then he spills the beans on Jesus. Then you probably get pissed for wasting your Sundays in church, but then Jesus comes out of this door to your left and you find out that he did exist, but he looks exactly like Delta Burke. This blows your mind. Then you shuttle down to hell and hang out by the air conditioner. True story.

Sometimes I Get Day and Night Mixed Up

Like this one time when I was wearing my sunglasses – yes, it was at night. I totally forgot it was nighttime and I was totally not making some joke about Corey Hart. Another time, I went to church and I just started falling asleep. When this bozo woke me up I explained that I thought it was like 10 at night.
"No, it's like 10 in the morning."
"Wow. Well, I just forgot. Sorry."
"Sorry isn't going to take your hand off my wife's breast!" Then he punched me.
Another time I started counting sheep in the middle of an office meeting. Then there was the time I ate lunch while making love to my wife. You get the idea.

Memorial Day

This Memorial Day I believe it's time we started taking it seriously. This isn't just another holiday like Easter. This is about remembering those that died for your freedom. And what are you doing about? You're sitting around the pool drinking. Or maybe camping. Or seeing some death metal anti-Christian band perform at a festival. Point is – you're not memorializing anything but your own self. And that's just wrong. This Memorial Day I want everyone to think about a soldier who died for your freedom and pray that they found a good home with the lord. Like Colonel Jessop, GI Joe, Martin Sheen, that guy with the napalm in Apocalypse Now, Colin Powel, Lars Ulrich, and Santana. Thank you.

The More You Read, The More You Know

So, when I was little reading was touted as the way to learn. It was like some portal into being smart. So, if you read books, you were smart. But when you're a kid you're just reading Highlights and Choose Your Own Adventure and stuff. So you're really not getting all that smart. Sure, maybe you're learning to have an attention span, but the amount of TV you're watching cancels that out. So basically, you're getting nothing out of reading and you should just rent the movies. If the book doesn't have a movie, make a movie yourself. If you're too poor to make a movie – hey, grow up pal.

That Time with the Jelly Beans

I was in eighth grade and I got a bag of those super small jelly beans – probably a few thousand in a bag. Anyway, the teacher says "Put those away unless you brought enough for everyone!" So I just walked around the classroom handing out jelly beans. Oh and this one time I had sex with a dead guy.

I'm Really Kidding Myself with this Lettuce Already

C'mon. Why can't I just face reality – I don't really want the lettuce. Why do I think anyone is looking when I make my salad? Would anyone really care if I just ate a plate of bacon bits, cheese, and Ranch? Lettuce has no taste. It barely has texture. I mean, not under the weight of all the Ranch I put on it. All the lettuce is doing is occasionally reminding me that sometimes you get that funky outside piece that's all hard and annoying. Really, Matt, who cares what you eat?

How About I Rearrange Your Face For You

This has been said many times to me by many people. I think the first time it happened was just after I had been playing Mr. Potatohead and the doll said it to me. I stopped messing with his facial features and just stared at the mouth that was lying on the ground. Then it said it again. Then I ran. This is a true story.

Plato's Retreat

In the way olden days there was a man named Plato. He was a philosopher and he was Greek or Italian. No one really knows for sure. But what is known is that he was the man who killed Zeus, but retreated when Apollo came after him. That's why Jesus died.

Gregory the Alligator

Gregory the alligator was just like you or me. He was eight feet long and full of teeth. He would lounge by the pond and eat all the birds. Or so I say and so I've heard. The strange thing about old Gregory, was he was never all that readily equipped to the things men do: like shave, go to the office, and turn on Youtube. But one thing that is certain, and yes this is a must, Gregory liked the women, especially their busts.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Writer's Block

Like many of you, sometimes I experience writer's block. This is especially frustrating to me as my entire body of work is nothing more than the first thing that pops into my head.
I try to update the blog weekly with new stories about oranges and sleeping problems, but today I'm failing to find anything stupid enough to write about.
I could go political, but I find that that's way too stupid for even me to write about.
Nuts. Nuts just popped into my head. What I could do with nuts?


Not only not funny, but also not stupid. In fact, it would make sense for Mr. Peanut to go to the circus. I mean, think of it: if there are peanut people, there must be an organization that's been put together to protect peanuts. And seeing how the circus is just one big slaughter for peanuts, be it elephant or human, I would imagine they'd need a spokesperson to show that peanuts are people too. Well, that they're peanut people. It doesn't matter. The point is, Mr. Peanut is the most famous peanut of them all.

See, I should have wrote that. But it's too late.
I'm drinking a coke. That's pretty stupid. But there's not a lot I can do with that. Unless – nope. Nothing. I ate a hotdog earlier. That was pretty rad. I put sauerkraut on it. That was a new thing for me. I like to try new things.

Wait – what about a story about this chick who's into trying new things and the whole way through you think…just not doing it.

There will probably be no legible post today as I just don't feel stupid. I don't feel smart. That's definitely not it. I just don't feel The Stupid. Let me make up a title and try to write and make sure.

Young Man Travels to New York

George was a young man. He was pushing 23 and he had decided it was time to visit the big city and make a name for himself. He departed from Iowa

It's going nowhere. I can't think of anything that would happen to this guy that would be stupid.

Really. Just nothing going on.



Hammer, P.I.

Hammer was on the case, but this time it was for money. Real money. Not that phoney money you get with a board game, but real green money. The kind that you snort cocaine with. The kind you leave at a table after you have eaten in order to give the waiter or waitress a little something extra. The kind that you

Pretty stupid, but just not there. I'll make amends next week.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009


This concluded
The part about
The beginning
When the shortly
Squared showered Amanda sticks
Come together in that amazing
Circus of the jars
And once you've heard the trumpets
High and below
Long lasting

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

I'm No Stranger To Sleeping Problems

It's true.
Did you know that we spend a third of our lives sleeping? Wow, huh? Now, think about this – if life is a dream, that means you spend 99% of your life sleeping (keep in mind that if life is a dream you still need to wake up and use the bathroom at least once).
So, sleep is a very important part of our lives. Maybe it's not important in that meaningful sense, but important like WOW that's a huge chunk in a pie chart.
Therefore, if you have sleeping difficulty a third of your life is pretty much annoying.
What can I do to help you? Well, below you'll find some sleeping problems I have had and how I remedied them. I hope you'll take some of these to heart and maybe pass them on to your friends. It takes one third of a person's life at a time to build a fence to let sheep jump over or something.
Read on!

Last Night

So, last night is what made me decide to write this article. I awoke to the sound of chickens. Yes, chickens. I looked at my clock and it was no way near chicken time (morning). So, I listened closer and realized it wasn't chickens – it was dolphins! Then I thought about Star Trek 4 and how aliens communicated with whales. Well, I put two and two together (dolphins being whale babies) and decided I had alien infestation – OF THE THIRD KIND! So, I sat and mustered my courage to go confront the intruders, but then fell back asleep. Then I awoke later and started thinking about that noise again. It was gone, but WTF? Then I realized it was supposed to be windy this morning. And that I had a tree growing near a window. The source of the sound was not aliens, dolphins, or chickens – it was the branches of the tree rubbing against the window!

Disorder: Aliens
Remedy: Realizing it was only the wind

Exploding Head Disorder

Look it up. I'm not about to link to it, I have to get this done quickly so I can sleep another four hours as I work my way to two thirds of my life! But anyway, in all honesty I wouldn't trust me on this either. I'm pretty goofy. But it's a true sleeping disorder. You go to sleep and just as you are about to fall asleep – BAM! It's like a sound and electric shock right to your head. It doesn't hurt, but boy howdy – it'll wake you up. Luckily, when it occurs it only happens once, then you're on your way to napville. Now, there is no cure for exploding head syndrome, but the knowledge that you are not alone and others are having their heads explode right before they go to sleep is all you need to save worry.

Disorder: Exploding Head Syndrome
Remedy: Knowledge

I'm Glad I'm Not Thinking About That

So, you wake up in the middle of the night. Normally, you just take a trip to the bathroom, take a sip of water and go back to bed. But, unfortunately for you this thought comes to your head "I'm so lucky I'm not thinking about BLANK, or I'd probably have trouble sleeping." Doesn't make a lot of sense right? Well, you're human and humans are fucked. So, next will follow one of the following (tee):

Song stuck in head
Worry over…
Texas Chainsaw Massacre
That bump on your ding dong (or dongette)

Doesn't matter what, although I will say Wham's Wham Rap stuck in your head is probably the worst. It even beats out Texas Chainsaw Massacre + my girlfriend is cheating on me + my girlfriend gave me herpes. There is no solution to this, unless you are good at clearing your mind. But you're not.

Disorder: I'm Glad I'm Not Thinking About
Remedy: Inconclusive (suicide)


As Americans, or whatever country you're from, we have a national crisis. It's not booze though. With that said, booze can really do murder for your sleep. But, like the girlfriend in the situation above, booze is a charmer that will screw you in the end. You'll think "Hey, booze will make me go to sleep!" That may be true, but booze will wake you up later when you're hungover and you'll stew in your own booze juices as you try to wander back to the Sleep Country. I won't tell you not to booze, but I will tell you to eat something small before you go to bed and drink plenty of water.

Disorder: Alcoholism
Remedy: Pizza and water


Many of you have neighbors. I guess when you think about it everyone has a neighbor. Some just might be farther away than others. Well, I have a neighbor who slams his door every morning at 7 AM. I know what you're thinking – yes, 7 AM! Anyway, sometimes it wakes me up. So my neighbor is a sleeping disorder. Well, folks, you can register sleeping disorders just like predators: http://www.assholeissleepingdisorder.com/. I had my neighbor registered and now this big dude slams my door at 6 AM every morning. It screws up my sleep, but you can see how I wouldn't let a neighbor get away with screwing up my sleep…Probably need to put more thought in this.

Disorder: Asshole Neighbor
Remedy: More thought

Alarm Clock

It's 7 PM. You have to get to work at 9 PM (or around there), so you set your alarm clock. Bad move. Alarm clocks are the most vicious sleeping disorder of all. You set them to make sure you wake up on time, but what you don't realize is they wake you up in the middle of sleep! Therefore, don't set them. I know it sounds revolutionary, but if everyone stopped setting their alarm clocks, then no one would have to wake up. Think about it.

Disorder: Alarm Clock
Remedy: Don't set them


So, you're sleeping and this badass dinosaur is attacking your enemies while your best girl is telling you how awesome you are and MTV starts playing videos again. Then – WHAMMO – reality. You wake up. You look around and it's the same room you left when you went on your awesome adventure to Lesbianland. Same comforter with Elmo on it. Same pillows with GI Joe on them. And the same woman you married ten years ago washing the sheets you pee'd last night before bed because you got way too drunk – is this too personal? Fact is reality blows. Like that movie Reality Bites and how it blew. The truth of the matter is dreams are rad. You go to this world with rad things and anything can happen and if it's bad it doesn't matter because it doesn't count. Kinda like playing Contra with all those extra lives. Well, we all have to wake up. Or do we? I'm not saying kill yourself, but if you can hit yourself in a way that will cause a coma, you might want to give it a shot.

Disorder: Reality
Remedy: Coma (not that shitty G n' R song)

So, I hope you learned a lot about your sleeping problems and maybe you'll help pass this on to others. In a perfect world we'd all be passed out, riding dinosaurs in Tibet. And maybe, just maybe, you can help make this happen.
- Gene