Whores

I get instant messages sometimes from porn robots that pretend to be women. They try to get you to join their porn sites where you can download women seducing goldfish and what not. Well, today one of them started a real life convwersation with me, and I turned the topic away from her breasts, and onto math.

[09:08] celiciababe4reallove: hi
[09:08] marksaal: well i guess you're not there
[09:08] celiciababe4reallove: am here?
[09:09] marksaal: oh - thats usually what the robots type before they send the webpage Im supposed to join
[09:09] celiciababe4reallove: really/?'
[09:09] celiciababe4reallove: i see
[09:09] celiciababe4reallove:
[09:11] celiciababe4reallove: asl pls
[09:11] celiciababe4reallove: ?
[09:11] marksaal: hehehe give up
[09:11] celiciababe4reallove: what?.
[09:12] marksaal: I'm not stupid.
[09:12] marksaal: ask me a math problem
[09:12] celiciababe4reallove: 2+3
[09:13] marksaal: 23. See, I am pure science.
[09:13] celiciababe4reallove: ok i see
[09:13] marksaal: yup
[09:14] marksaal: lets do some more
[09:14] marksaal: math can be fun
[09:14] celiciababe4reallove: yes
[09:14] celiciababe4reallove: can you see me now
[09:14] celiciababe4reallove: on display image
[09:14] marksaal: no i turned the image off
[09:15] marksaal: i want to do math problems
[09:15] marksaal: ONLY
[09:15] celiciababe4reallove: click it on
[09:15] marksaal: i cant
[09:15] celiciababe4reallove: click on it
[09:15] marksaal: I will if you solve some math problems.
[09:16] celiciababe4reallove: root of 16
[09:16] marksaal: FOUR
[09:16] marksaal: but YOU have to solve some
[09:16] celiciababe4reallove: right
[09:16] marksaal: 25-(6/3)
[09:17] celiciababe4reallove: 23
[09:17] marksaal: hey, not bad soldier
[09:17] marksaal: level 2
[09:17] celiciababe4reallove: yes
[09:17] marksaal: 9^2-6^6
[09:18] marksaal: Forget math
[09:18] marksaal: Do you want to play trivial pursuit?
[09:18] celiciababe4reallove: nop
[09:18] marksaal: ok
[09:19] celiciababe4reallove: yes
[09:19] marksaal: Ok, well then we can't be friends
[09:19] celiciababe4reallove: ok bye
[09:19] marksaal: bye
[09:20] marksaal: Sorry it had to end like this.

I condemn the United States

"I condemn the United States and all 12 of its colonies."

How to pick up girls.

Cradling a baby is quite natural and simple. Place the baby's head in the crook of one of your arms and wrap your other arm around the baby or hold the original arm with the second arm. This is a great position for talking to baby or looking at them. Many babies sleep very well in this position. It's also a good beginners position, particularly for younger kids or siblings.

Snapdragon Snapshakes!

The newest craze in getting wasted is the Snapdragon Snapshake! This isn't your momma's milkshake, or your fathers for that matter! It is an adult beverage with a cool twenty-somethings twist. It's got a whole new vibe, and a taste that's a real kick in the seat! Put your seatbelt on and cross your fingers, because your tastebuds are going on a goddamn adventure whether they like it or not. Yeah, YOU LIKE THAT DON'T YOU TASTEBUDS!

But why pay up to $10 for a Snapdragon Snapshake at the bar when you can easily make them at home - FOR CHEAP! Heres how!

Snapdragon Snapshake Ingredients
2 oz. peach juice
2 oz. crushed watermelon seeds
3 oz. Jim Beam
1-2 tuft(s) Unicorn hair

Shake VIGOROUSLY for 45 minutes without stopping or handing to somebody else. Heat in microwave on "popcorn" setting (1-9 minutes). And you're done...

And hey soldier... enjoy.

SECOND ANNUAL CAT CONTEST!

AWESOMEOW! II
2nd Annual Cat Contest

Hello all. As you know, every year I host a kitty cat contest in the Vons parking lot in San Diego. Last years event was.. well, it was a mild success at best. Congratulations to Melissa and her precious cat "snowflake" for sweeping all categories, as she was the only cat in attendance. This year we have bigger aspirations, and hope you all have a CAT-TASTIC time!

This years categories are:

Fluffiest cat
Cutest meow
Sassiest cat
Most playful kitten
GrUmPiEsT CaT! (although this cat will cease being grumpy when it wins!!)

Hopefully we will have enough entrants that no cat will win 2 or more awards, but hey, if the fluffiest cat also has the cutest meow, SO BE IT!

Also there will be a milk-lapping contest, and the cat that lick up the most milk in three minutes wins a kiss on the head and an American flag name tag. Oh, and a "Got Milk" T-Shirt, LOL (Get it? Because of Milk?).

See you there!

Me and the Kev-ster Hit The Beach

So as you probably all know, me and my buddy Kevin are like the best friends in the world (not to mention the coolest guys ever dude). Me and the Kev-ster (nickname) went to the beach yesterday and had a BLAST!!! Partly cus we worked on our tans and partly because there were good looking LADIES everywhere! So much rad stuff happened that I decided to provide all you dudes with a quick synopsis.

11:47 AM - Arrive at the beach. Set up home base by one of the fire pits.

11:48 AM - Cracked open our first (OF MANY) cold one!!!

12:09 PM - The Kevster smoked a cigarette while we talked about his new tribal tattoo.

12:14 PM - I totally threw a rock at a seagull and HIT IT!!!!! Fuckkin awesome! We talked about how rad this was for an hour.

1:14 PM - 2 girls put their towels only like 8 feet away from us and so the Kevster was like "heyyyy ladies want a beer"?

1:15 PM - The girls were totally drinking a beer. WITH US. THis happens all the time to us BUT STILL! totally awesome.

1:17 PM - Me and the Kevster told the girls about Kev's custom Chevy truck, and the girls were totally into us

1:19 PM - The girls realized they forgot something at home and said they'd meet up with us again later (hahaha they never did because they must have got lost hahaha stupid sluts).

2:44 PM - I fell asleep and woke up and found that the Kevster had written "POO FART" on my chest with sunscreen! Oh man that was funny.

3:10 PM - I started digging a super big hole in the sand. I mean a huge hole not like one a kid would dig.

3:41 PM - The Kevster buried me up to my head and farted on my face OH MAN THAT KEVSTER!

3:52 PM - The Kevster told me he was gay. I was taken aback, but felt like I had always known. I told him I was gay too.

3:53 PM - The Kevster said he was just kidding. Then he kicked my ass.

4:02 PM until now - Hospital recovery room.

9:00 AM, September 17th , 3928 BC

It's been a while since I've written in my man-diary, and I apologize.

I guess it takes a while to ease back into writing things that are funny. I'm not sure if I should make a funny joke about the pope dying because I don't want to offend my Catholic readers.

On that note, do you know there was a guy named John Lightfoot - a Greek scholar - who calculated that the Earth was created at 9:00 AM on September 17, 3928 BC? I don't really know what hilarious formulas he used to come up with this calculation, but you can't argue with science folks. I think he lined up 9 abacasus (abaci?) in a row and taped a sundial to them and then closed his eyes until a number appeared in his mind.

So September 16th, 3928 BC must have been a pretty fucking boring day. And I guess all the dinosaurs were floating in mid-nothingness.

That concludes my thoughts for now. I forgot how to write properly, but soon I will remember the rules.

This Guy Wins

Although it wont be official for a few weeks, I am taking this opportunity to be FIRST to announce that John Kerry, and his long, long head, will be our next King.

I also do know for an absolute fact that I got at least one vote.

Ramadan and Me

I became a Ramadan fan years before it was fashionably ironic to mock-celebrate ethnic holidays. I saw it on the calendar in my office and decided to celebrate it by getting drunk that evening. This was how I celebrated every holiday – no matter how minor. Any date that the At-A-Glance calendar corporation decided was worthy of a text description was worthy of a night of binge drinking. Not even foreign holidays were safe.

Flag Day was celebrated by screaming “OLD GLORY” while pounding Jack Daniels from the bottle. What most people simply referred to as “May 15” I knew as “Armed Forces Day”, which meant I would be conquering a bottle of Jaegermeister that evening. I don’t know who Benito Juarez is, but you can bet your sweet ass March 21 meant Corona and Tequila until sunrise.

Some people spend April 18 – “Holocaust Remembrance Day” – reflecting on lessons of history’s past. I spent it clutching two bottles on Manechevitz and distrusting my shower.

I’m straying totally off topic. Ramadan. It’s coming up on the 15th – this Friday – and I can’t wait to celebrate. The Muslims use this holiday to mark the beginning of some holy lunar month where they stop eating for 28 days. Please. I will use this holiday as a drunken celebration involving equal parts Koran and gin, cursing every Christian book store on the way to the watering hole, ending up at the lonely end of the bar reminding people “itsh only 9 days ‘til United Nations Day”.

Mark Versus England

My knowledge of geography is fucking terrible. It’s limited to the few maps I vaguely remember studying in 5th grade (which is why I still think East Germany is a country). I’ve been caught using an astronomers field guide to pinpoint Bangladesh. I keep a topographical map of Io in my car for road trips to Arizona.

A few years ago, my brother spent a month traveling the world. I think his eventual destination ended up being somewhere near Singapore, but I’m not sure. I know that there were probably islands involved, and hotels were around fifteen cents a night and came with free 2 foot cockroaches.

So Thursday I embark on “Mark’s Travel Adventure II: Mission To England”, which is the immediate successor to last year’s “Mark’s Travel Adventure I: Voyage to the Market for More Pepsi”. This trip overseas should increase my worldliness by at least 50%, and also give me a chance to socialize with people as sarcastic and drunk as myself.

I wonder how this tiny island will accept the presence of a white man. I’ve got to remind myself – they are just as afraid of me as I am of them.

I think I am going to speak with a fake Australian accent the entire 10 days I am there. I’m going to say predictably-lame things like “throw a shrimp on the Barbie”, and when some annoyed resident asks me why I am talking like that, I am going to scream “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU GUYS STILL HAVE A QUEEN, MATE!” I will refuse to accept any notion that England and Australia are two different places. I’m going to be so annoying that everyone is going to dump their (imperial) pints on me, throw me in the river Thames (which I now know has a silent “h”), and throw darts and croquet balls at me.

I will try to get out of every dangerous situation by saying things like “I think the Sex Pistols were a brilliant band!” or “I think Pink Floyd was a brilliant band!” or “Ats’a nice castle, innit?!”

Hopefully, both me and England will learn a little something about each other. And a little bit about ourselves.

ROIT!

Worst Answering Machine Messages

Do you remember that commercial in the 80's that sold a wacky cassette tape full of funny outgoing messages for your answering machine? One was a choir singing "Nobody's Home" to the tune of Beethoven's 5th Symnphony, and another was a rap that went "Ya gotta leave your name, ya gotta leave your number and wait..for..the beep!" This must have been the mid or late 80's when answering machines were finally small enough to fit inside a house but still "newfangled" enough to think that a funny message would get someone to slap their knees.

Well, my female counterpart today reminded me of them, and I decided I absolutely had to find them on the Internet. After three hours of searching, I have failed to fulfill my mission... However, I have not come up empty handed... I came across a website that has their own collection of supposedly funny outgoing answering machine messages. I listened to about thirty of them and decided that they needed to be shared with the world. They might be the LEAST humorous thing you can put on your answering machine - and I say we all do it.

Go HERE now - http://www.twpyhr.com/sounds40.shtml

Michael Moore is somewhat obese.

(from yahoo news) NEW YORK - Filmmaker Michael Moore isn't bothered at all by the jeers he received from Republicans at the convention when his anti-Bush film "Fahrenheit 9/11" was mentioned by Arizona Sen. John McCain (news, bio, voting record).

"Thank you, John McCain," Moore told The Daily News in New York. "The film's doing $120 million right now. When McCain mentions it, I have a chance to do $150 million."

Why didn't he just follow that up with some "yo momma so fat" jokes, or maybe the middle finger. Is it me, or is Michael Moore slowly turning into the fat, greedy republican that he pretends to hate? This is the most immature election ever.

2004 Kitten Contest YAY!

At the Vons right by my house we are having a kitten contest on Saturday. Basically everyone will bring their kitten(s) dressed in costumes and/or miniature hats and they will be judged by everyone and it will be a lot of fun.

Categories are:

Most playful kitten
Funniest kitten
CLEVEREST KITTEN! (my fav!)
Sparkliest kitten
Most unique kitten hat
KITTEN VEST OF THE YEAR (remember all the cute vests from last year lol!)

Unfortunately, admission has gone up this year - it now costs TWO SMILES to get in the door :) :) :) (last year it was one smile). All smile proceeds will go to CHEERING UP OUR LOCAL COMMUNITY YAY!

Oh and LEASHES PLEASE PEOPLE! Last year we all remember what happened to Sir Sprinkles....

(for those of you who don't remember, he was hit by a motorcycle and his head was crushed, except it took him excruciatingly long to die, and the blood/twitching/squeals were unbearable).

SEE YOU SATURDAY XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Hot Pedal Pumping Action

Well, I guess there is something out there for everyone. I've heard frightening stories about diaper fetishes. I've seen websites where people go play in the woods dressed up as rabbits and cuddle. I know there's a special place in Japan where people will pee all over their wife. But thePedal Pumping Picture Gallery is something new to me.

They have picture galleries of guys, in cars, pressing down the gas pedal. There are a variety of shoes, boots, and sandals involved in this hot action. There are pictures of speedometers registering 120 mph. Make no mistake - there are no action pictures of cars going fast or doing flips or racing - the excitement for these people is the simple fact that there is a gas pedal pushed to "the metal". It is quite apparent that these cars are parked in someone's driveway. There are even sections for hot college action, where apparently college kids are pressing the gas pedal instead of thirty year olds.

They also have DVD's for sale - almost fifty! That's fifty hours of footage of people pressing down the gas pedal. They are available for $20 - but that's only a fraction of the cost of the therapy and counseling you are going to need if your friends ever find this DVD in your collection next to Top Gun.

We are LEGIT

So for no reason other than extreme boredom, at work today I decided I needed a "pimp cup". For those of you not familiar with the hip hop subculture, a pimp cup is an ornamental chalice that you put your wine in; hermetically engineered to keep spillage to a minimum during the slappage of hoes or the recognizition of ones game. I think it would be cool as shit to break out a gold cup overflowing with diamonds and fill it with chocolate milk and vodka the next time the bitches come over to my pad. I don't really know what "flossin'" means, but I bet it tons easier to do when you have a fucking pimp cup. Feel me.

So my search engine skillz (2 da max) brought my ass to icedoutgear.com, and their fabulous display of pimp cups, fake rolex watches, and "shoe spinners", which are little medallions that hang out of your shoe and spin around and shit. You know, just like the rims on the car next to you at the stoplight when you get scared and look the other way and pretend to be preoccupied while they yell at you and tell you to turn down your Van Halen. I have revealed too much.

The point of this story is - hmm. There really isn't a point. I just kind of wanted to use that chocolate milk and vodka joke I had stored up for a few weeks. Although, if you go here you can see icedoutgear.com's customer service guarantees. It includes the following classic description of their company's inception:

It all started 3 years ago in a part of Los Angeles called San Fernando Valley, when 4 young hip hop fans were trying to find a legit place to get some hip hop clothing and jewelry to sport when going out. They didn't have two hundred thousand dollars to spend on a bracelet or watch, but still wanted to look sharp. No matter how hard they looked they couldn't find a place that had low prices, bomb customer service and quick shipping.

So these cats said...What if there was a place where young players like us could get some real looking iced out jewelry and fly hip hop gear for very low prices, with quick delivery and bomb customer service?

That is the most honest company biography ever written. "Me and Darren wanted to get laid. Bracelets were a fucking rip off. Icedoutgear.com" It doesn't get any succint than that.

Dude, they ARE legit as FUCK. Fools dish out sweet gear with none o' that hassle the other companies try to spread on you. These dogs got game -and that's coming from a certified game-recognizing machine (myself). And speaking of myself, if you're looking for a birthday present for me (September 22, fags), a PIMP CUP or a BLING-BLING watch would be an excellent choice. Or crayons, because me like to drawing lots.

Cuddle Parties?

We've all been lonely, seriously. I spent an entire year obsessing about the ugly daughter on "Roseanne", so I know what it's like to be lonely.

But please, please, just.... just stop the madness.

Cuddle Parties?

Crayon Stains, Suicide Attempts, and Goblins

On the evening of July 14, 2004, I was sitting in my house and noticed some crayon markings on the wall. I got my Brand X cleaner from under the sink and began to tackle the stain. After a few minutes, it was apparent that the stain wasn’t going anywhere. The stain wouldn’t budge – it would be there forever. No. Why me?! What would house guests think of me and my filthy filthy crayon stains?!!! Upset, I crossed my arms and made a pouty face as one tear rolled down my cheek. My life was ruined.

As I was debating sleeping pills versus razor blades, I saw a flash of white light and a 140 decibel “ting” noise. Suddenly a 6’4” bald man was standing in my living room, and my “Brand X” cleansing agent had transformed into… Mr. Clean!!! I went back to the crayon stain and removed it with ease as Mr. Clean looked on and winked. I thanked Mr. Clean and he nodded and winked again.

I sat back down on the couch to watch more television, and Mr. Clean sat down with me. It was somewhat awkward, as I was always under the impression that Mr. Clean left after stain problems were solved. I nervously flipped channels for a few seconds and then politely told Mr. Clean that I had some work to do and would appreciate it if he left. Before I even knew what happened, Mr. Clean elbowed me in the face three times, swept my feet from under me, and pinned me on the ground.

Five minutes later I was tied in a chair with rope and duct tape. Mr. Clean had grabbed three crayons from the kitchen drawer and started scribbling racial epithets on my walls. He raised his hands to the heavens, and magically the Mr. Clean bottle turned back into Brand X. Also, three goblins fell from the sky and raped me.

I woke up the next morning, still tied to the chair and bleeding. Mr. Clean had stolen my television and had defecated on my floor. All of my silverware was also missing.

I’ve since learned a few things from the experience, most notably, that there are things worse than crayon stains on walls, and there aren’t things worse than getting raped by goblins.

Future War

Leftover cardboard boxes, crappy animatronic dinosaurs, and a cyborg killer with a mustache and a mullet – these are three of the things that rightfully secure this movies as the second worst movie of all time (see imdb.com’s worst movie list if you don’t believe me ).

There is an eight minute fight scene at the beginning of the movie between this crusty wannabe Jean Claude VanDamme guy and this white trash guy who is supposed to be a cyborg.  You can tell he is supposed to be a cyborg because he has a piece of plastic glued to his sweater, and had baby powder on his face.  That, and the fact that he turns his head slow and makes metal grinding noises and his footsteps are loud.  They might as well have just written “ROBOT” on his shirt with a Marks-A-Lot pen.  Anyways, this fight scene takes place in a “warehouse” filled with boxes.  Boxes boxes boxes.  We’re talking hundreds of boxes.  And the director was so excited he got his hands on this assortment of boxes that he must have rewritten the first scene.  Six times the cyborg or the karate guy burst out of a stack of boxes surprisingly and punch each other.  Two “finishing moves” involve someone throwing a box in slow motion until it slams the other guy in the face.  The boxes also make ridiculously loud crashes and glass-breaking sounds even though it is painfully clear they are empty.

Later, we learn that the cyborg traveled back in time and taught dinosaurs to time travel to the future and kill humans.  So we get to deal with these pathetic animatronic dinosaurs for the next 30 minutes.  Since they cannot walk, the camera angles “cleverly” alternate from a far away shot of the dinosaurs head moving predictably back and forth, to close up behind-the-head shots of the dinosaurs running (ie dragged by rope) toward their victim.  People would walk around a corner and scream “OH MY GOD”, and then the camera would pan over to these two dinosaurs moving their head back and forth every 6 seconds – and MOVING NOTHING ELSE.  It seriously would have been more effective to just have the director’s son hold up a tyrannosaurus rex toy in his hands, shake it, and go “rarrrrr”.

The plot for the movie was definitely created on the fly.  This runaway slave(wannabe VanDamme) excapes some planet.  A cyborg follows him.  The runaway makes it to this weird house where a crackhead-turned-nun lives and she teaches him English in 4 hours.  Later a dinosaur attacks their fat roommate and they escape to the sewers and almost have sex.  At the end of the movie, the runaway guy and the nun find God and open up a teen suicide help hotline.  Seriously.  The last line of the movie is the karate expert answering the phone.  A troubled teen starts whining, and he says “There is a bible verse I would like to read you.”  What???

Coming from a man who saw Blue Crush in the theatre and Glitter at home, I can safely say that this is the worst movie I have ever seen.

The Ultimate Posse

As some of you know, I recently started a gang called “The Ultimate Posse”.  We walk around at the mall and make fun of fat people.  Sometimes we hang out in alleys and spit on the sidewalk.  Jeff (a.k.a. “Flyboy”) sometimes even roasts ants with a magnifying glass while listening to early Too Short jams.  We come hard and we always bring it.  Word.

We are looking to expand membership in our gang and currently have the following positions open:
 
Head Chef / Ninja Star Thrower:  Looking for someone to cook us grilled cheese sandwiches and spaghetti, because a full day of throwing rocks at birds and cussing makes us hungry.  Also must be proficient with ninja stars for when the cops try to arrest us.
 
Flag Bearer: We need a person who is willing to carry our flag into battle.  When we take over a new neighborhood, we think it would be more intimidating if someone carrying banner with our insignia on it led the charge.  Our insignia is a drawing of a snarling leopard with red eyes next to a drawing of a dude flipping the bird, and is on felt.
 
Treasurer: We desperately need someone to take responsibility of our allowance, and must be willing to let us know when we are spending too much of it on Pop Rocks.
 
Remember, you are either with us or against us!  The Ultimate Posse takes no prisoners (primarily because we currently do not have a facility to store prisoners).

The Least-Funny Site on the Internet

Wacky Pics has been declared, by me, the least-funny site on the internet. PLEASE go and have a look. I've never laughed so quiet in my life.

Friendship.

Friendster friendster friendster. I hopped on the Friendster bandwagon last year because it was a highly addictive way of networking. I could collect friends like baseball cards, and write clever high-school-yearbook-esque “testimonials” to all the girls I know who won’t sleep with me. We would write bulletins about upcoming parties we have no intention of attending, send retarded messages back and forth about how special we were, and meet new people based on zip code and breast size. Oh, the world of Friendster was such fun in those days.

Now it’s a complete fucking mess. Gone are the carefree days of “check out how fucking fat Michele_BlueEyes is in her picture” and in are the days of mindless political ranting. It’s some guy with a faux-hawk claiming to unravel a huge Bush conspiracy. Dude, your favorite bands are the White Stripes and the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s – isn’t this predictable Bush-bashing cutting into your shoe shopping time? Hot Topic has a sale on belts – GET! I wouldn’t mind it as much if all the political discussion was rational and sane, but it’s all the same fervent yet boring speech over and over, made for the sole intention of getting laid via the Internet. OH I SO WENT THERE. Hating President Bush is a sure fire way to get laid these days. Chicks dig it. It’s hot and sexy.

When you’re not hearing groundbreaking comparisons between the President and Hitler, you get to read messages about the latest DJ/Art/Dance party in L.A. Every party has pretty much the same formula – some bar is going to show paintings or photography while some DJ is going to play records (probably 80’s mixed with some electroclash). Meanwhile, if your lucky, some girls with a lot of eyeliner on will be modeling dresses that nobody would ever buy. Drinks are “free” with a $5 donation. Usually there is one bartender, 500 people in line, and your choices are Gin n’ Milk or Robitussin on the rocks by the time you make it to the end. Oh, and to get into the whole mess, you need a password to get in.

That just killed 20 good minutes at work. Nice. And for the record, I did get a pretty cool belt last week.

Oh, and the Modesto pictures will be up here soon, including wonderful documentation of that arm wrestling game that ripped up my shoulder and my special lady singing "Pretty Woman" with an impromptu band when the only 2 words she knew of the song were "pretty" and "woman"

Wonderful House

This is my new favorite web site.

The Penny Arcade Remix Project

Cartoon captions created by Japanese school students.

Fuck dude, my name Is DOUG!!

Shit bitch! ahahaha my name is DOUG! I am seriously sixteen and can fucking SHREDDDDD on the elec. guitar. Anyways I thought YOU out there in INTERNET LAND would like to here my thoughts on the crissis in Iraq, so here it goes!

First of all let me say WAR IS AWESOME! Fuck all those towel head bastards and fuck the camels WOO HOOOOO! Turbans are NOT RADICAL and fuck them for steeling all of my OIL to run MY MONSTER TRUCK THAT I WILL CERTAINLY BUY SOME DAY.

On the other side, I am skeptical about the President's assumption that a culture with ideologies and traditions so different from ours will be willing and able to embrace democracy. But then again, FUCK TOWELHEADS. That's what DOUG says.

They need to make special MISSILES that fly around AND CHASE these dickheads and blow them up. and it would be special AWESOME if the missiles could have small SPOONS ATTACHED that could scoop up some oil and bring it back to america so I can get CHEAP GAS FOR MY MONSTER TRUCK THAT I WILL SURELY FUCKING OWN SOME DAY.

Fuck the prisoner abuse scandal. HEY, "PRISONER ABUSE" is a radical name FOR MY MONSTER TRUCK THAT I CANNOT WAIT TO BUY FROM MONEY I SAVED MOWING LAWNS IN MY COMMUNITY.

This has been DOUG, and FUCK YOU. And remember, whatever it is that you do, MAKE SURE TO SHRED AT IT IM OUT!

My Love, You've Changed

What happened to her??? Remember when she used to be hot? Well, at least I used to think she was sort of hot in a rocker girl, white trash sort of way. The kind of way where if you could get her to shut that obnoxious, retarded mouth for four minutes she might grow on you? Well fuck, now she looks like my old lady neighbor growing up who would shake a broom at me when I wrote on her sidewalk with “chalk rocks”. Look at her fucking crossed, black eyes. She looks like she forgot to sleep for three weeks, realized it, and then tried to make it a month. Sleepless in sick ass Seattle. Her hair looks like dirty yarn that a cat played with and then vomited on. I’m not much of a fan of makeup, but jesus-haitch-christ girl, a little foundation here might not be a bad idea. Her skin looks the precise color of snow that has been peed on. Nice sweater too. Did she find it in the dumpster behind Big Lots – WHERE SHE SLEEPS? She looks like she is going to shit herself right there in the courtroom. She also looks autistic and might blurt out “nook at dee pane-teeng I make of my mommy!” right before unveiling a 8 foot by 10 foot collage made of syringes and taco bell napkins.

If you look up “AIDS Virus” in the dictionary, you’re fucking stupid. But her picture would be there. In capital letters and underlined.

I love how they are trying her on all these drug cases – the evidence is right there – she has a huge case of MODESTO FACE! A classic disease where the jaw and chin start to protrude and the eyes sink in about three inches from the surface of the face. It’s the result of doing so much goddamn methamphetamines that the human face actually tries to digest itself.

I think she is completely beyond repair. She is like my 1979 AKAI brand VCR – completely fucking broken down and useless. Tapes won’t eject, the tracking is terrible, and the CORDED remote has been run over by a vacuum. Not To mention “Weekend at Bernies II” is stuck inside. I threw that thing in the fucking garbage where it belonged.

Fuck all these retarded anti-drug campaigns on television where parents are giving their kids “tough love” for smoking weed. Weed is not the problem here. One word, 39 syllables: Methamphetamines! Weed makes fat people like nachos more. Meth can turn a rock star/award winning actress into the fucking sickly beast you see below. I mean above.

Good job Courtney.

Hehe

This snippet from a news article made me chuckle.

"Protesters chanting "Bring the troops home" gathered in a park across the street from the White House. President Bush was in Europe."

How much is that doggie in the window?

"How much is that doggie in the window?"

"$200. He's had his shots"

"That's a fucking rip off. I'm never singing this song again."

A Poem

This poem describes why I stopped doing acid.

Where were you that day in the forest
A Poem by Mark

Where were you that day in the forest
When the gnome and I wandered along
Where the mermaids were singing, Oh Lord they were singing
A glorious glorious song

Where were you that day in the forest
When the King was clapping his hands
The children were dancing, and unicorns prancing
And pixie dust covered the land

Where were you that day in the forest
When the sky shone purple and red
We couldn’t stop spinning, the dark elf was grinning
And everyone felt sick in their head

Where were you that day in the forest
When the demons were somehow set loose
The King went insane, and mermaids were slain
The Unicorn was hung by a noose

Where were you that day in the forest
When I came to at four o’clock a.m.
Dry heaving and crying, So thirsty from frying
Oh I’ll never do acid again

The Evolution of Man

Man has been on the planet for hundreds (some even say dozens) of years. From pre-recorded history, when man was nothing more than an ape with better table manners, to today, where man is an ape with even more enhanced table manners, the road to evolution was a rocky one at best. Today I will outline the major eras of man’s progress. And women’s.

600,000 B.C.
Two apes made passionate love and gave birth to Jeff. Instead of wondering what his own feces tasted like, Jeff pondered implications of a heliocentric universe. He also ate grasshoppers. Jeff was considered the first human.

80,000 B.C.
After 40 years of hand waving, grunting, and running in circles, two cave-friends agree to stop fucking freaking out every time they see a fire.

4,000 B.C.
Man finally defeats the dinosaurs after a grueling 30 year war. To celebrate, they enslave themselves, build pyramids for no reason, and start creating gods to explain everything they don’t understand. It was agreed that lightning came from an asshole diety in the clouds, and there was no debate.

0 A.D.
Jesus comes to earth to tell everyone that his dad is the king of all gods. In a show of true harmony, mankind decided it will no longer tolerate magicians claiming to be the son of God. They invent the wheel and the binocular in order to watch their favorite invention, the cross, in action. Around this same time, man invented murder.

1492 A.D.
Christopher Columbus invented the Internet and then bought 3 boats on Ebay from a seller with 200 positive feedback. He used the boats to discover “Indians”, which were really “Native Americans” who loved shiny rocks so much they would trade land for them (later we traded them Oklahoma for forgiveness).

1300 A.D.
The Renaissance was in full effect, and all of the sudden everyone thought they were an expert on something. Everyone started playing the violin, doing math problems, and discovering planets. When people wanted to buy cans of soda, they finally used coins instead of animal pelts. Someone discovered pi, girls pushed their boobs up, and everyone danced and ate duck and drank wine until midnight.

1861 A.D.
People realized that in the midst of all their duck, wine, and dancing, they had accidentally purchased and sold humans and forced them into servitude, often whipping them when they failed to impress. Half of the people were ashamed, the other half really liked the increased revenue of their cotton fields. They fought a huge war and the good guys one, instilling the right of every former slave the right to ride on a bus (as long as they weren’t too near the front where all the good seats were).

1939 A.D.
Hitler opened up the first HoloCostco, a massive outlet store that let you buy and burn Jews by the 24-pack case at discounted prices. This was totally unacceptable, so we enslaved the Japanese and started listening to crappy Jazz music.

2004 A.D.
I was totally fucking bored at work.

Salesmen

The most pathetic salesman ever came to work today. Usually we get these solicitors trying get us to buy "corporate bottled water solutions" or pushing their laser toner cartridges on us. I always say no, because I don't buy anything from anyone unless they are professional enough to have a building to back them up. The guy that came in today though was selling three items that were absolutely retarded.

(1) A combination flashlight radio for $20
(2) A "tempered glass" cutting board with a religious stained glass window pattern on it
(3) Barbie 2004 Calendars

It's retarded that people are still trying to cash in on the power outages of 2000, using lines like "you'll never know when you'll be out of light". Yes I do know - never.

The cutting board was really fucking stupid. I'm no sales manager, but selling religious cutting boards door to door to BUSINESSES makes as much sense as selling chocolate covered aborted fetuses in Minnesota. YES, IT MAKES NO SENSE.

And finally, we have the Barbie calendars. The guy prefaced this by asking if I had any children or sisters. No, I don't. And if I did, I doubt they would want a calendar that is 5/12 obsolete.

After I made it clear that I didn't want to buy his shit, he walked around the office trying to find other people who would want to buy it. Finally he left. A few minutes later I saw him convening in the courtyard area with other salesmen. They all had their flashlights and Barbie calendars slung over their shoulders and were having a heated discussion that probably included the phrases "can't believe nobody bought..." and "I thought for sure somebody would have wanted..."

Fuckheads

Consumed by the Passion of a Burning Desire

Consumed By The Passion of a Burning Desire
By J.T. Saltwater

Ohhhh girl… do you remember the days?
You were sweet sixteen and I was twenty three
but it takes More than some law to keep you off of me

Ohhhh girl… do you remember the ways?
We used to make sweet love in the tourin van
You loved pleasin’ me and the rest of the band

Consumed by the passion of a burning desire
Cookin’ love so hot the heat turns into fire
Pullin out all the stops and throwin caution-to the wind
I swear… This is the...
Last time I cheat on my wife till I get to Cleveland

Ohhhh girl… Can I tell you the truth?
I’ve got a lovin wife back home washin’ dishes for me
Can’t believe little Doug is already three!

Ohh girl… Randy lost his first tooth!
My kids mean the motherfuckin world to me
But this goddamn erection gets the best of me

Consumed by the passion of a burning desire
Cookin’ love so hot the heat turns into fire
Pullin out all the stops and throwin caution-to the wind
I swear… This is the...
Last time I cheat on my wife till I get to Cleveland

Welcome Home

It was yesterday afternoon - a day quite like today except that it was about 24 hours earlier. I decided that I wanted a bowl of delicious soup to quell my belly. After opening the can, I noticed the lid was still connected by a small thread. Being the true genius that I am, I decided to pull the lid off with my hand by maniacally gripping the lid with my left hand and pulling. The edge of the lid slipped into my skin like it was warm butter and blood started pouring out of my thumb. I ran to the bathroom and started washing my hand off until the blood stopped, but after 2 minutes it was still bleeding. I applied direct pressure like a first aid champion and when I tool the napkin away there was still fresh blood creeping out.

10 minutes later I was enjoying a BloodSoup cocktail while peering sadly at my thumb and the 14 bandaids encircling it.

That was my Sunday. How was yours?

New Stapler

I have a 1 day reprieve from the auditors. After being barked at by the audit monsters all day yesterday, I have decided to spend today in a more relaxing and fruitful way. I've spent the first 75 minutes of it looking for a new stapler since mine is malfunctioning.


Classic look, ability to hold a full strip of staples. This is your “bread and butter” stapler. Nothing special, but it tells the world “I am not a simple man, but a man who finds no need for a fancy stapler.”


Comfort grip, #1 in durability. You could throw this thing at a wall during a temper tantrum and at the end, you would be apologizing to the wall while the stapler stands tall and proud. Not a dent.


Don’t let his boxy looks fool you, the Stanley® Bostitch B2000 Collection Executive Desktop Stapler not only has a new take on the classic design, it also has a goddamn indicator that tells you when staples are getting low. No more wasting of precious seconds as you look every week or so to see if you need to reload it.


The problem with staplers is that they take up a full 9 square inches of real estate space… UNTIL NOW. The Boston Ultimate Stand-Up Stapler stands upright, freeing up valuable desk space for pictures of your cat or a candy jar.


Have you ever wanted to read a passage from the Old Testament after ordering a pizza? Well, if you had this fucking beast you could have stapled your Bible to your phone book and been the master of convenience. It’s useful for binding large reports, policy manuals, or detached limbs in complex surgeries.


Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, says "I'm an executive with a teeny penis" like a chrome plated stapler. Ideal for stapling your wrists and eyes after a long life of trivial pursuits has eaten your soul. Also available in gold.