Evening, ya’ll. I’m going to attempt some minor political humor tonight, but I warn you that it won’t be up to my regular standards. Frankly, I just haven’t been able to get back into my usual, politically savvy self since my move. A large portion of this is due to my inability to stay up to 6:00 am anymore. So until I get back into the swing of things, just please bear with me!
Anyway. Tonight my main target will be Jimmy Fallon. Oh yeah, #IMGOINGTHERE!
Other than that, I hope all of you had a great week!
Brief News: House Republicans Scared To Death Of Unidentified Fat Man With White Piece of Paper
A portly, unidentified man has House republicans so frightened that they’ve been tiptoeing through Capitol Hill all week long. Nobody knows why they’re so scared of this man or what is written on the white piece of paper that he allegedly clutches close to his heart, but what is for certain is that this man has the power to make House Majority Leader John Boehner cry like a 13-year-old girl experiencing her first period.
“I personally am not scared of this fat bastard,” Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell told reporters, while repeatedly gazing all over the place as if he expected the ghost of Bin Laden to suddenly pop up out of nowhere. “But the guys over in the House are scared shitless!”
In fact, the fear is so palpable that there have been at least three confirmed cases this week alone of House republicans peeing in their pants from fright. And according to House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, a confrontation between John Boehner and the unidentified man late Wednesday afternoon led to Boehner falling to his knees and busting into tears.
“It all centers around that piece of paper the fat f*** carries around with him,” Pelosi speculated. “It’s as if the guy is somehow using whatever is written on it to force the republicans to do what he wants them to do.”
She continued, “It’s quite sad, especially considering that politicians are supposed to be doing what the people want them to do, not what some fatass wants them to do!”
Moral of the story: The only fat man to fear is Santa Clause. Speaking of which, are all you republicans behaving yourselves this year!?
Brief News: Stars Call It Quits After Sarah Palin Joins Their Ranks
The universe’s many stars, from red giants to white dwarves, have all turned in their two-weeks notice and pledged to never shine again until presidential hopeful Sarah Palin gives up her hopes of becoming a star. The controversy erupted earlier this week when Palin revealed her über-stylish tour bus, which according to witnesses made Brent Michael’s tour bus look like “pure crap.”
“We’ve been out in space shining for millions of years, and all of a sudden Palin buys a bus, goes on tour, and steals away all of our limelight,” Gamma Ursae Majoris from the constellation Ursa Major complained to reporters. “I appreciate that she wants to be a star, but she is totally taking away from the rest of us!”
According to Gamma, the stars aren’t the only ones upset with Palin’s recent rise into the heavens. Asteroid belts, comets, meteors, and black holes are also feeling disgruntled. Many of them have threatened to quit but are holding on only because they need the money. Apparently, the recession has affected them as well.
“Hell, word through the grapevine is that even Mother Earth is pissed,” Gamma said. “If the rumors are true, she plans on packing it up and getting the hell out of the Milky Way!”
He continued, “My guess is that Palin will settle down on Uranus if that happens.”
Moral of the story: Yeah, this piece sucked. It’s 1:48 AM and I still can’t come up with a decent conclusion. But anyway. Frankly, I dislike Palin. Some guy on hardball talked about how Sarah Palin is an anti-establishment and down-to-Earth individual who is comfortable around bikers. BULL. This is the same woman who called Common a thug. The truth is she is just as stuck-up and bougie as the people she hates. I have nothing against bikers, but you can't call Common a thug and then pretend like your biker-gang buddies are the sweetest folks on Earth!
Brief News: Man Laughs Himself To Death Due To Former Landlord’s Antics
Raleigh, NC—Former Winchester townhouse resident Victor Alowishus Jones suffered a fatal heart attack at 4:00 pm Thursday afternoon after having laughed too hard and for too long at his former landlord’s ridiculous antics.
According to Victor’s best friend, Sheila Jenkins, his former landlord gave him a sudden, out-of-nowhere eviction notice two weeks ago and then completely ignored all his attempts to negotiate a new lease. This greatly angered Victor, but he had no choice at the time but to put up with it.
“Then two days after Victor moved out, the jerk had the nerve to text him and demand that he pay such and such money for purported damage to the home,” Sheila explained. “That’s when Victor started laughing.”
Sheila went on to explain how Victor replied by telling his former landlord to “suck his juicy something,” after which the landlord had his great-grand mother call Victor on a private line and claim that there was a warrant out for his arrest as per some stolen property.
“It was at that moment that Victor’s laughter, which had been going on for several days at this point, turned into a giant, deadly guffaw,” Sheila said, shaking her head in dismay. “I tried to tell him to stop and get it together, but it was too late; he keeled over and died from literally laughing himself to death.”
Moral of the story: You ain’t getting no money from me! Take me to court if you’d like, but remember that I’m Asian, and to an Asian, a ‘little black book’ refers to a telephone directory featuring all of our family friends who hold positions of power, i.e., lawyers!
Brief News: Gang of Ryde-Or-Die Chicks Take Over K97.5 Radio Station
North Carolina—Four young ladies have taken over Raleigh’s only hiphop station, K97.5 WQOK, and threatened to cut off the genitals of the lead disc jockey, DJ Showtime, unless he gives them permanent positions as DJs. The whole fiasco started earlier last week when Showtime, aka ‘The Talk of the Town,’ started allowing select local residents to visit the station and play along for a half-hour as guest DJs for the station’s ‘Top 8 @ 8 Countdown.’
“Most of the folks who I invited to the studio had a great time and left without complaints,” Showtime told reporters during a five minute phone conversation that the ladies allowed him to make. “But not Tonyetta, Darlene, Maria, and Liling; them crazy bitches — and I don’t mean that in a positive way — just didn’t let go!”
According to Showtime, the four “psycho broads” broke into the studio late Friday evening, locked his co-hosts Nikki Nicole and Brian Dawson in a closet, and then took him hostage in the main studio room, where they’ve been playing their “Top 8” lists over and over again ever since in an attempt to weaken his resolve.
“Look, they can keep playing their songs and they can even cut off my genitals, but I am not hiring them!”
“You hear me, you psycho bitches; I am not hiring you!” Showtime was heard screaming through the phone before the line suddenly went dead.
In Related News: Local DJ’s penis found floating down Falls Lake.
Moral of the story: This stupid, hurriedly written piece was designed to make fun of Showtime’s tendency to only bring in female guest DJs. Don’t get me wrong, though, because I don’t blame the brother a single bit. Get that ‘ish, bruh bruh! But just watch out cuz some these ryde or die chicks str8 up CRAZZZYYYY, son! They so ‘hungry’ for stardom they’ll str8 up chop off your junk and take a bite out of it!
Feature News: Jimmy Fallon Arrested For Plagerizing His Writers
You know what? I’m just not feeling this.
*Grunts and then tosses aside this satire piece.*
Moral of the story: It’s a really, really long story! :-)
Paranoid Man With Obsessive Compulsive Disorder Refuses To Clean Toilet
Biloxi, Massachusetts—Local photographer and lifelong obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) victim Roger Phillips held a press conference early Friday morning outside the Lazy Magnolia Brewery on Roscoe-Turner Road to announce that he will not clean his private toilet at his new residence until he develops an intimate relationship with it.
“Look, I need to have a deep relationship with a toilet and know it inside and out before I can scrub away the dust, grime, and bits of corn lacing its porcelain interior,” Roger told reporters. “I need to know the speed at which it flushes, how corroded its pipes are, and whether or not it can handle one load of my shit without getting clogged.”
Ever since Roger, 33, moved into the residence on May 17, he’s slowly been getting to know the new home and its various appliances and devices. It took him three days alone just to establish a strong enough friendship with the kitchen sink to wipe it clean after washing his hands. He has yet to wipe the sink in his own private bathroom.
“This crazy bastard — and he seriously has a lot more wrong with him than just OCD — is constantly washing his hands and taking a shit, yet he refuses to ever clean up after himself because he doesn’t know the sinks and toilets well enough,” Roger’s landlord, Christopher Martin, told reporters, shaking his head in dismay. “I don’t mind some of the sinks being dirty, but I’m getting really sick and tired of the stinky toilet!”
He continued, “It’s like, dude, you put your ass on the toilet 6 times a day; how much more intimate could you possibly be with it!?”
Unbeknownst to his landlord, Roger does not in fact make any direct skin-to-porcelain contact with the toilet. Instead he places his landlord’s towels on the toilet seat and uses it as a sort of sanitary sheet or condom, on the basis that “a man needs to protect his vital assets, including his wallet, his penis, and, of course, his ripe buttocks.”
Though Roger’s eccentric behavior might lead some to think that he’s absolutely bonkers, his girlfriend, 42-year-old Rhonda Meier, claims that there’s nothing crazy about him at all.
“The paranoid bastard just suffers from a really severe case of obsessive compulsive disorder,” Rhonda explained, rolling her eyes in what appeared to be a mixture of pure hatred and unrelenting love. “And to be honest, that he needs to know a toilet intimately is just the tip of the iceberg.”
“He can’t shower without slippers, he refuses to throw away our used condoms, and he insists on making love in ten-minute bursts, after which he has to take a ten-minute break. It kind of ruins the mood, you know? But toilets have always caused him the most problems. Hell, he’s only actually cleaned three toilets in his entire life, including the one at his parent’s house, the one at his old crib, and the one at my apartment.”
Christopher doesn’t care about Roger’s mental problems, however, which is why he’s making arrangements to expedite the get-to-know-you process. His hope is that a quiet, romantic date between the two will give Roger the comfort and security he needs to pick up the toilet brush and “git er done.”
“I’m going to turn down the lights, set up a few nice-smelling candles, put on a Marvin Gaye CD, and just let the magic happen between the Roger and his god damned toilet,” Chris said. “And if that doesn’t work, I’m literally going to pick up a plunger and shove it up that mentally retarded freak’s ass!”
Moral of the story: This piece was designed to make fun of my bathroom behavior. I’m not as OCD as Roger, but I too need time with a toilet — usually one to two months — before I’m capable of cleaning it. And it’s even worse with showers. It takes about 3 years before I’ll clean a shower tub, which is why I usually just hire somebody off craigslist to do it for me. Yeah, I’m a total freak; I know!
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Well, that’s it for 2day. This wasn’t my best stuff, but like I said, I’m still getting back into the swing of things. Plus, I may have bit off more than I could chew this time around. Hell, it’s 12:17 AM and three of the above pieces aren’t even finished yet! Anyway. I hope ya’ll enjoyed it!
PS #1. If ya’ll like hiphop and want to share your favorite songs with the community, then log into hiphopnc, submit your list, and hope for the best!
PS #2. I really wanted to get Ed Schultz and Rick Perry, but I just didn’t have enough time! Maybe next week!
PS #3. I am not actually smoking less. I smoke less cigarettes, but I take more puffs. When I’m outside, I’m in such a hurry to get back inside that I puff my cigs like crazy. So when you add it all up, it’s pretty much even. Craziness, right, lol?
PS #4. Happy Memorial Day!
PS #5. I’ve given up my quest for love, but that doesn’t mean I’ve given up my quest for sex! Since women my age are too uppity to spend time with me (which they’ll regret once I get rich -> “back then they didn’t want me, now I’m hot they all on me”), I’ve set my sights higher up. I’m talking about gettin’ me some granny panties!
Yeah, yeah, all you young females out there are shaking your head and referring to me as a “creep,” but given four years without sex, ya’ll would be on your knees begging Hugh Heffner to shove it in your mouth, so SHUT IT! #yeahIsaidit! So if any lonely older women need some sweet, youngbuck lovin’ in their lives, holla at tha Certified Cougar Handler!
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
May 20th | It's the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) – REM
Note: I do not listen to REM (BRICKKK SQUADDDDDDDDD), but I thought this song ultra-ultra fitting as per the doomsday theories surrounding this weekend.
Howdy Ho. How is everyone? Great.
This week I moved from eastern Raleigh to way-way-way west Raleigh—I can literally see airplanes flying into and out of the damn airport. The move was frustrating and I haven’t had access to cable television, so I decided to go ahead and take a vacation. I didn’t work, I barely messed with my Facebook page, and I even stopped paying attention to politics.
Since I’ve been out of the loop, there will be no satire this week. I do have a vague idea of what’s been going on. From what I’ve heard through the grapevine, Newt Gingrich participated in a gay orgy at some ‘French glitter convention,’ Maria Shriver had a lesbian affair with an illegal alien / maid that Arnold had hired, and President Obama wants to give Jerusalem back to its rightful heir: Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.
Other than that, I have no clue what the hell is going on. So anyway, this week’s post is going to be a casual, self-centered blog post with absolutely nothing substantive to offer. So unless you know who I am and give a damn, there ain’t nothing for you here, so pEaCe OuT!
Hell on Earth
This week has been hell on Earth for me. Anyone who thinks Frank and Marie Barone are annoying has clearly never met my parents. They flew into Raleigh to assist me with the move, which was nice of them, but they almost drove me to commit suicide. Mayhaps I love ‘em and all, but damn they’re annoying. They’re the type of people who follow every single rule to a tee, and I find that to be exceedingly annoying. Rules are meant to be broken; that’s my philosophy.
Anyway. I’ve been depressed all week long, but I am slowly starting to feel a little bit better. It’s difficult, though. I had been living in the Capital Boulevard area since 2005, and I had been residing at my previous residence since 2009. I feel homesick, out of place, and awkward. My parents replaced my computer desk, which I had been using since 2005, and just dealing with a new desk is killing me inside. But I have no other choice at the moment, so I guess I just have to learn to live in this new world!
What bugs me the most though is that I had to give up on my preferred taxi company, not to mention my barber. I’ve gone from a welcome greeting (“Hola, Muchacho!”) to an uppity salutation (“Top of the morning to you. How may I assist you on this lovely day?”). And even worse, I’ve gone from Darnell the former convict turned barber to Chuck the former married guy turned homosexual ‘hair stylist.’
I’m Living With A Conservative
Yes, ladies and gentleman, I am now living with a conservative who watches Fox News, believes in small government, and whose dogs listen to Rush Limbaugh. I shit you not; his dogs are as far right as a pair of bitches can possibly be! However, the guy himself is insanely liberal on social issues (his dogs not as much), which I find quite ironic, what with the perfectly timed release of this Onion column: Fiscally I'm A Right-Wing Nutjob, But On Social Issues I'm F**king Insanely Liberal. And oh, he used to have cats, so I have a perpetual runny nose. I HATE CATS!
…. but not as much as I hate conservative dogs!
Well, Hello There!
The Brier Creek area is teeming with athletic enthusiasts (e.g., bicyclists, joggers, and people who actually walk their dogs), hot-as-hell white women, and old people. I don’t care too much for the latter, but I’m loving the other two. It’s nice to not be the only runner in the area. And even nicer is the opportunity to lay my eyes on such beautiful beauties!
There’s a really attractive, young chick at the gas station who is cute beyond belief. She’s kind and always wears a beautiful smile. Unfortunately, she has tattoos and the last time she read a book was probably in highschool—assuming she’s a graduate. Even more unfortunate is the fact that her tendency to over-smile at desperate guys like myself got me envisioning us married with kids!
Don’t get me wrong, because I haven’t forgotten about my crush. I never spoke to her in person, but I know quite a bit about her courtesy of research. I know that’s creepy, but I can’t help it; hell, 90% of the work I do involves research. Regardless, I know she teaches children and she loves to read—which indicates a big heart, motherly instincts, and intelligence—and that she also a down-to-Earth, humble aspect to her.
Sadly, I’ll never have a chance to talk to her. Living next to her gave me an opportunity, albeit a small one, in that there always remained the tiny chance that one day we’d stumble into each other and then stumble into a conversation and well, maybe one day stumble into a relationship. That opportunity is gone now, however, so I guess I have to find somebody else to capture my heart.
I’ve been trying the online game, but it’s bloody difficult. I have the courage to attempt o flirt with girls I like online, but I don’t have the social knowledge necessary to establish a meaningful conversation. I try, damnit, but nothing works. If I try to keep it serious, they get bored. If I try to be funny, they don’t take me seriously. And if I try to be romantical, they get creeped out. God f**king damnit… why must YOU PEOPLE be so damn difficult to communicate with!?
Loaded by Willie Geist
Willie Geist’s new book, ‘Loaded,’ is actually quite funny. I feared that it would be corny and boring like ‘The Parliament of Whores’—which includes no whores, prostitutes, or sluts, though for a second I thought I had discovered a picture of Martha Stewart in a bikini; it turned out to just be my bookmark. To my astonishment, the book has turned out to be fairly entertaining, though certainly not as much as a novel.
Time to Get Signed
Though I respect and admire Willie Geist, I kind of resent the fact that the process of writing a book is so easy for him. All he has to do is call his publisher, explain his idea, and then write it. For the average Joe Schmoe, the process is far more complicated. Most turn to self-publishing, but that’s worthless. Rarely do self-publishers garner any sales, let alone even a semblance of written success.
The only way to make it as a real writer (and that doesn’t include freelancing) is to get signed, much like a rapper gets signed to a label. Personally, I don’t want to be a petty freelancer for the rest of my life. I have what I feel is a brilliant book idea that tackles the life of someone with a mental illness from a completely new and revolutionary perspective. I don’t know how I’m going to do it and when it’s going to happen, but I hereby pledge to get signed.
I know some people are thinking, “Give up your stupid dream and get a real job, you worthless prick,” but they can go straight to hell. I have a deep respect for 9-to-5ers (e.g., teachers, scientists, truck drivers, whatever), but that is not the life for me. I have something important to say, and I intend to say it. It may take a year, 5 years, or 20 years, but I’m not one to give up. My inspiration? All the brilliant, talented youths out there getting signed every single day, whether they’re dancers, rappers, or writers.
My message to those still struggling is this: Never give up. Keep working and paying your bills, but never stop hustling. Brian Williams hustles (he said so on the Carson Daly show), so you should too!
I bet you didn’t know that Brian sings backup for Jimmy Fallon. Yep; dude is a HUSTLER, son!
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That’s it. I apologize for this post being so casual and badly written, but I’m suffering from a major case of fatigue and exhaustion courtesy of cat allergies. It sucks, but what the hell can I do besides hustle hard and raise the money necessary to get back to northeast Raleigh, where the hustlers at!
Northside Raleigh STAND UP!
Anyway. I’m up out this bitch. pEaCe
Howdy Ho. How is everyone? Great.
This week I moved from eastern Raleigh to way-way-way west Raleigh—I can literally see airplanes flying into and out of the damn airport. The move was frustrating and I haven’t had access to cable television, so I decided to go ahead and take a vacation. I didn’t work, I barely messed with my Facebook page, and I even stopped paying attention to politics.
Since I’ve been out of the loop, there will be no satire this week. I do have a vague idea of what’s been going on. From what I’ve heard through the grapevine, Newt Gingrich participated in a gay orgy at some ‘French glitter convention,’ Maria Shriver had a lesbian affair with an illegal alien / maid that Arnold had hired, and President Obama wants to give Jerusalem back to its rightful heir: Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.
Other than that, I have no clue what the hell is going on. So anyway, this week’s post is going to be a casual, self-centered blog post with absolutely nothing substantive to offer. So unless you know who I am and give a damn, there ain’t nothing for you here, so pEaCe OuT!
Hell on Earth
This week has been hell on Earth for me. Anyone who thinks Frank and Marie Barone are annoying has clearly never met my parents. They flew into Raleigh to assist me with the move, which was nice of them, but they almost drove me to commit suicide. Mayhaps I love ‘em and all, but damn they’re annoying. They’re the type of people who follow every single rule to a tee, and I find that to be exceedingly annoying. Rules are meant to be broken; that’s my philosophy.
Anyway. I’ve been depressed all week long, but I am slowly starting to feel a little bit better. It’s difficult, though. I had been living in the Capital Boulevard area since 2005, and I had been residing at my previous residence since 2009. I feel homesick, out of place, and awkward. My parents replaced my computer desk, which I had been using since 2005, and just dealing with a new desk is killing me inside. But I have no other choice at the moment, so I guess I just have to learn to live in this new world!
What bugs me the most though is that I had to give up on my preferred taxi company, not to mention my barber. I’ve gone from a welcome greeting (“Hola, Muchacho!”) to an uppity salutation (“Top of the morning to you. How may I assist you on this lovely day?”). And even worse, I’ve gone from Darnell the former convict turned barber to Chuck the former married guy turned homosexual ‘hair stylist.’
I’m Living With A Conservative
Yes, ladies and gentleman, I am now living with a conservative who watches Fox News, believes in small government, and whose dogs listen to Rush Limbaugh. I shit you not; his dogs are as far right as a pair of bitches can possibly be! However, the guy himself is insanely liberal on social issues (his dogs not as much), which I find quite ironic, what with the perfectly timed release of this Onion column: Fiscally I'm A Right-Wing Nutjob, But On Social Issues I'm F**king Insanely Liberal. And oh, he used to have cats, so I have a perpetual runny nose. I HATE CATS!
…. but not as much as I hate conservative dogs!
Well, Hello There!
The Brier Creek area is teeming with athletic enthusiasts (e.g., bicyclists, joggers, and people who actually walk their dogs), hot-as-hell white women, and old people. I don’t care too much for the latter, but I’m loving the other two. It’s nice to not be the only runner in the area. And even nicer is the opportunity to lay my eyes on such beautiful beauties!
There’s a really attractive, young chick at the gas station who is cute beyond belief. She’s kind and always wears a beautiful smile. Unfortunately, she has tattoos and the last time she read a book was probably in highschool—assuming she’s a graduate. Even more unfortunate is the fact that her tendency to over-smile at desperate guys like myself got me envisioning us married with kids!
Don’t get me wrong, because I haven’t forgotten about my crush. I never spoke to her in person, but I know quite a bit about her courtesy of research. I know that’s creepy, but I can’t help it; hell, 90% of the work I do involves research. Regardless, I know she teaches children and she loves to read—which indicates a big heart, motherly instincts, and intelligence—and that she also a down-to-Earth, humble aspect to her.
Sadly, I’ll never have a chance to talk to her. Living next to her gave me an opportunity, albeit a small one, in that there always remained the tiny chance that one day we’d stumble into each other and then stumble into a conversation and well, maybe one day stumble into a relationship. That opportunity is gone now, however, so I guess I have to find somebody else to capture my heart.
I’ve been trying the online game, but it’s bloody difficult. I have the courage to attempt o flirt with girls I like online, but I don’t have the social knowledge necessary to establish a meaningful conversation. I try, damnit, but nothing works. If I try to keep it serious, they get bored. If I try to be funny, they don’t take me seriously. And if I try to be romantical, they get creeped out. God f**king damnit… why must YOU PEOPLE be so damn difficult to communicate with!?
Loaded by Willie Geist
Willie Geist’s new book, ‘Loaded,’ is actually quite funny. I feared that it would be corny and boring like ‘The Parliament of Whores’—which includes no whores, prostitutes, or sluts, though for a second I thought I had discovered a picture of Martha Stewart in a bikini; it turned out to just be my bookmark. To my astonishment, the book has turned out to be fairly entertaining, though certainly not as much as a novel.
Time to Get Signed
Though I respect and admire Willie Geist, I kind of resent the fact that the process of writing a book is so easy for him. All he has to do is call his publisher, explain his idea, and then write it. For the average Joe Schmoe, the process is far more complicated. Most turn to self-publishing, but that’s worthless. Rarely do self-publishers garner any sales, let alone even a semblance of written success.
The only way to make it as a real writer (and that doesn’t include freelancing) is to get signed, much like a rapper gets signed to a label. Personally, I don’t want to be a petty freelancer for the rest of my life. I have what I feel is a brilliant book idea that tackles the life of someone with a mental illness from a completely new and revolutionary perspective. I don’t know how I’m going to do it and when it’s going to happen, but I hereby pledge to get signed.
I know some people are thinking, “Give up your stupid dream and get a real job, you worthless prick,” but they can go straight to hell. I have a deep respect for 9-to-5ers (e.g., teachers, scientists, truck drivers, whatever), but that is not the life for me. I have something important to say, and I intend to say it. It may take a year, 5 years, or 20 years, but I’m not one to give up. My inspiration? All the brilliant, talented youths out there getting signed every single day, whether they’re dancers, rappers, or writers.
My message to those still struggling is this: Never give up. Keep working and paying your bills, but never stop hustling. Brian Williams hustles (he said so on the Carson Daly show), so you should too!
I bet you didn’t know that Brian sings backup for Jimmy Fallon. Yep; dude is a HUSTLER, son!
--------------------------------------------------
That’s it. I apologize for this post being so casual and badly written, but I’m suffering from a major case of fatigue and exhaustion courtesy of cat allergies. It sucks, but what the hell can I do besides hustle hard and raise the money necessary to get back to northeast Raleigh, where the hustlers at!
Northside Raleigh STAND UP!
Anyway. I’m up out this bitch. pEaCe
Saturday, May 14, 2011
May 13th | Shoot ‘The People’ (Common ‘The Thug’)
Evening. I hope everybody had a nice week. Before I begin, I want to make some notes.
#1. Last weekend, anxiety over my leasing situation led me to release a Charlie-Sheen-like torrent of angry rants and raves. I’m genuinely sorry about that. I hope nobody took any of it personally. What happens while drunk stays in drunkenland. That’s my motto!
#2. I’m currently under an emotional love spell, so the next few weeks of blog postings may include a lot of “gay,” lovey-dovey crap. Thankfully, this spell hasn’t affected my sharp wit, so keep a keen eye out for some comedy galore.
#3. I wrote a bit about all that “hippity hoppity Enema man crap” last Friday. I had heard through the grapevine that someone I like quite fancies children, so in an attempt to impress her—a pathetic one, at that—I came up with the whole hiphop enlightenment stuff. The truth is that I love gangster/thug rap. Speaking of which, “BRICK SQUADDDDDDDDDD!”
Show Me His Crack Whores!
Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, Sarah Palin, Karl Rove, and a bunch of other loony-tune, right-wing nuts threw a fit this week because President Barack Obama invited rapper Common and r&b singer Jill Scott to the White House for a poetry reading. They even went so far as to label Common a “thug.”
As someone who spent half his childhood aspiring to be a thug, I take great offense to this accusation. Real thugs smoke blunts and Newports, have at least two pitbulls (one of which has had to be lobotomized for biting a white person), and own a minimum of two crack whores. Show me Common’s crack whores. Where are his crack whores? I see no crack whores. Why? Because Common isn’t a thug! He’s just a white guy with a fantastic tan!
On a more serious note, if Sean Hannity and crew think Common is a thug, then they have something else coming to them. I’ve met real thugs, and I assure you that they don’t give a rat’s ass about meaningful lyrics or reaching out to the kids. A real thug believes in three principles: money, power, and respect. Money leads to power; power leads to respect. Disrespect the set and you might get hit with the tech!
This whole situation reminds me of the terms ‘new money’ and ‘old money.’ Our world is ruled by ‘old money’: uptight and self-righteous hypocrites who hate everything related to equality, justice, and the youth. Unfortunately for them, a generation of ‘new money’ is slowly rising up and will one day take over from the Middle East to America and beyond. Unlike our ‘old money’ peers, many of who go to great lengths to hide behind a façade of purported morality and sophisticated class, we ‘new money’ cats aren’t afraid to keep it real all day, every single day.
The point I’m trying to make is that Hannity and his crew of flunkies are stuck-up, self-righteous aristocratic assholes incapable of embracing love and truth. Instead, they thrive on perpetuating an endless stream of hatred. They hate having a black president, they hate having black culture paraded in front of their face, and they hate the direction this country is going—toward true freedom and equality for all. Unbeknownst to them, they’ve already lost the battle. No election or law is going to be able to stop my generation from one day rising up and taking over.
This isn’t a rant against old people, because some of the coolest people on Earth are outrageously old, i.e., Mike Barnicle. This is a rant against the bourgeois. In particular, it’s a rant against those who think they’re better than everybody else. Yes, Jill Scott and Common have been known to sing questionable lyrics, and yes, it’s possible that Common has smoked a spliff once or twice. However, that doesn’t mean in any way, shape, or form that Jill Scott and Common are “trash”!
Anyway. Before ending this bit, I’d like to give a shout-out to all the real thugs.
WEST SIDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
The New Bad, Bad Leroy Brown
Speaking of very cool but practically deceased old people, Mike Barnicle laid the smack down this Wednesday:
"He [Newt Gingrich] is a delusional loser with an intellectual chip on his shoulder. That might be his biggest handicap in terms of the public. He has this habit, this way of prattling on about all of the ideas, the new ideas that he comes up with for our political system. And it’s because probably he went to like East Overshoe College or something and wants to prove that he’s smarter than anybody from the Northeast – from Harvard. He is just ridiculous. This is ridiculous. His candidacy is a joke."
Agreed! Newt is nothing more than a sly-talking car salesman. He’s the type of guy who would try to sell you a run-down, piece-of-shit car by claiming he once used it to visit his former wife in the hospital while she was recovering from cancer surgery. Of course, he would completely fail to mention that all the carbon monoxide leaking from the car screwed his brain up so badly that when he finally reached her, he used the opportunity to discuss the details of their divorce!!!
Brief News: Sean Hannity Looks Into The Mirror For The First Time And Is Shocked At What He Discovers
Early Friday morning, Fox News correspondent Sean Hannity did the unthinkable. He walked into a restroom at the Fox News Headquarters, took off his customary blindfold, and finally mustered up enough courage to look into a mirror.
“Oh my God . . . I’m an ass!” Hannity was heard yelling by his Fox News peers.
According to Hannity’s assistant, Eileen, his mother strictly forbade him from ever looking into a mirror on the basis that “mirrors are for Hollywood-type liberals who’re obsessed with vanity.”
“She obviously told Sean that to protect him because he’s an ass,” Eileen told reporters. “But he started growing more and more restless; I guess he just couldn’t stand not knowing what he really is anymore.”
“I tried to persuade him not to go through with it, but his mind was already made up,” she added.
Fox News released a press release late Thursday evening claiming that Hannity has since come to terms with his shocking discovery, but an undercover report by MSNBC correspondent Richard Engel suggests otherwise.
“I heard through the grapevine that he’s planning to have his ‘mouth’ sewed shut because ‘the Constitution doesn’t say anything about the separation of butt and hole,’” Engel claimed.
In related news, Rush Limbaugh just discovered that he’s in fact a big, giant dick.
Fact of the story: The thing in the mirror is a Coco De Mer. It's the biggest nut in the world. I thought it most fitting, especially since it’s a nut that looks like an ass :-).
Moral of the story: I do not like this men, and I’m not just saying this out my ass. I hate lovey-dovey, r&b music right now, so whenever K97.5 plays it, I switch over to the conservative station for a bit. Trust me when I say the get is a royal douche!
Interesting Facts: Why It’s So Hard To Find a GF On OkCupid
The average man is facing an uphill battle finding love these days. He has given up searching for it in the real world, so he looks for it on OkCupid instead. Unfortunately, he has no success, and here are some of the reasons why:
1/10th of online girls are so obese the man has to scroll the screen to view their entire body.
1/10th of online girls are so ugly that even the man’s dog is forced to look away from the screen.
1/10th of online girls are bisexuals.
1/10th of online girls are bisexuals who already have a bf but would like a gf to join in on the fun.
1/10th of online girls claim to be straight, though they sport way-too-short, lesbianish hardoes.
1/10th of online girls take fictional characters and stories way too seriously.
1/10th of online girls have the muscular physique of a man.
1/10th of online girls have tattoos and earrings in places they’re not supposed to have tattoos and earrings!
1/10th of online girls are into drugs, alcohol, and smoking.
1/10th of online girls are too insipid to write anything on their profile.
Moral of the story: Finding love online is a bitch! And most of the women I encounter online are . . . LOL, j/k! (angel face)
Apology of the story: I’m genuinely sorry to have used Rosie O’Donnell for the associated pic. I respect her and think she’s a very sweet woman, but I think her heart is in the wrong place when it comes to Bin Laden.
Tin Man Returns To The Emerald City To Petition for Cardiac Surgery
The notorious Tin Man, whose 1939 journey to the Emerald City with Kansas farm girl Dorothy Gale was chronicled in the movie “The Wizard of Oz,” made a surprise return visit to the city late Thursday afternoon. During a press conference held later that evening alongside the yellow brick road, he revealed to reporters his intention to petition the Wizard of Oz, MD, to remove his heart.
“I have been living 72 stinking years with this piece of crap heart, and I’m sick and tired of it,” the Tin Man said, while simultaneously squirting oil into his mouth to keep himself lubricated. “I thought it would be great to have a heart, but all it has ever brought me is pain.”
He continued, “I keep falling for Tin Girls who aren’t interested in me, the few quality friends I make whom I actually like never stick around, and every friggen time I accidentally step on a stupid-ass ant, I feel compelled to burst into tears. It sucks, bro!”
The Tin Man went on to explain how, after obtaining a heart in 1939, he moved to Winkie County, started attending the local university, and began searching for suitable friends and a “kickass” mate.
“I tried for years to attract a quality Tin Girl, but they always found me to be a tad bit too rusty, which is total bullshit because it’s not my fault I was forged from some really cheap-ass tin.”
After a heart-wrenching rejection in 1963—during which a Tin Girl to whom he had written a sweet love letter to freaked out, burned the letter, and said that he’s a loser “unworthy” of her time—the Tin Man became so disillusioned and embittered that he sought the friendship, love, and guidance of the only Tin People who were willing to accept him: the R2D2-13 gang.
Under their tutelage, he learned how to scrub rust off himself by using a brush caked in marijuana resin, lubricate his creaking joints by pouring alcohol on them, and fix any broken tin ligaments by stealing new ones from the Winkie County Prosthetics Laboratory.
“What we were doing was really wrong and got us into a lot of trouble, but I didn’t care at the time because for once in my life I felt like I actually belonged,” the Tin Man said, dabbing at his eyes with an oilkerchief. “I was always on the go, meeting new Tin People, making really great jokes, and just living it up, man.”
Soon after, the R2D2-13s introduced the Tin Man to one of their Tin Hoes, a young and bosomous Tin Broad with a penchant for “money, mo’ money, and even mo’ money.”
“I had a lot of student loan money at the time, so she latched on and showed me the love and attention I wanted, and so I fell in love,” he continued. “She introduced me to Tin Sex and something called a Bulgarian Tin Dive, but it wasn’t meant to be; she was a wild, party girl who just wanted to make money and spend it, while I meanwhile was slowly maturing and realizing I wanted more out of my measly Tin life.”
After the termination of his relationship with the Tin Broad, as well as his friendship with the R2D2-13s (many of whom have since run out of oil), the Tin Man gradually got his life together by completing his education, finding gainful employment, and developing fiscal responsibility. He now lives his life as a responsible, tax-paying Tin citizen of Oz.
“Yep, I have the whole wide world going for me now,” the Tin Man commented, rolling his Tin eyes. “It’s true that I have money and feel a certain degree of success, but it means nothing without a quality Tin Girl by my side; a few friends would be nice too, but my Tin Girl will always be my number one BFF.”
“You know, sometimes I want nothing more than to just go back to the days when I didn’t have a care in the world—when I prowled the streets of Winkie County with the R2D-13s and had sex with hot Tin Hoes.”
The accumulation of all these painful emotions is what led the Tin Man back to Oz. If he’s able to convince the Wizard of Oz, MD, to remove his heart, then he’ll finally be able to live his life in peace—“a life without stupid emotions like loneliness, infatuation, anxiety, and fear.”
He added, “Plus, it would be really friggen nice to be able to eat burgers and fries everyday without having to worry about having a heart attack!”
Fact of the story: This tale is an exaggerated version of my life.
Moral of the story: I would gladly trade in my organic heart for an electrical one instead. Keep in mind I’m speaking metaphorically, because the heart has absolutely nothing to do with one’s emotions.
-----------------------------------------------------------
I hope you guys enjoyed that! Some of it came from the heart, while the rest of it came from pure annoyance (HANNITY!).
PS #1 –
Go str8 to hell @ all the scummy oil-company execs refusing to give up their TAXPAYER-FUNDED subsidies and take part in shared sacrifice because they believe in “shared prosperity”—aka screwing over the citizens of the United States of America. You call us un-American? Bitch please. My oddly shaped and moley dick is more American than you bitch-ass frauds!
PS #2 –
When I went to the grocery store earlier this week, I encountered a father with his son. What’s interesting is that the two were practically stalking me, in that they bought everything I bought—milk, cottage cheese, juice, etc. You know what this means, right? I have fatherly instincts :-)! Yep, I was meant to be a father. It’s clear as crystal day, son!
PS #3 –
I’ll be moving very soon. My landlord is a nice guy, but he’s not a people person—and he’s managed to drive all the other tenants out of here. It sucks because I really enjoyed the company of my most recent roomie. He was a nice, young fellow with whom I could relate. He had gangsterish tendencies, but he was also smart, articulate, and a first-class ladies’ man!
Anyway. I’ll be the next and last one to go. Even if I were to convince the landlord to let me lease the whole home, I just can’t afford it!!! If anyone in my neighborhood needs a roomie, please contact me. And trust me when I say that money is no concern. So if you want an extra $750.00/month in your life, hollatcha’ boy.
Keep in mind I have a dog, I smoke (I can stop), and I have a weight set that MUST come with me—even if I have to store it in my bedroom. I’d rather sleep on the floor than lose the one thing that keeps me emotionally and physically healthy.
PS #4 –
My brother is so desperate to be “close” (he’s as much a girl as Robert Barone; YUCK!) that he has offered to buy me a townhouse down the street from him. The goal is for me to manage the home until my parents retire, at which point I should have enough money to buy my own place.
This sounds ridiculous for an Agnostic to say, but I believe God intended for me to stay here. Back in late 2004 / early 2005, my life was falling apart. I got suspended from college (don’t ask), I was doped up on pills, and I had no hope. One day I wrote down a prayer asking God to bring a woman into my life who would change it forever—one with whom I could spend the rest of my life with, in a big home on a big hill with a big backyard.
Really soon after, I met someone online, for whom I came to Raleigh. That “relationship” didn’t work out, but I’ve been much happier here than I ever was back in my hometown. Yeah, I could live like Ray Barone one day with my brother and parents next door to me, but after having spent months paying close attention to Barone’s teachings, why the hell would I want to purposefully expose myself to such horror!?
PS #5 –
I know some people out there are thinking, “Get help!” No offense, but f**k you. As someone with Asperger’s Syndrome, I’ve been forced all my life to talk to counselors and therapists. As far as I’m concerned, they’re all a bunch of loudmouth idiots (no offense @ Diana, the old dude, and that one chick, lol). In fact, my most recent counselor admitted to me that I’m “too smart” for this crap. Hell, I can read and digest a therapist’s soul before he or she is even able to figure out how to properly pronounce my name. I don’t need help; what I need is a woman.
Let me put it in Laymen’s terms:
I have a penis and it needs to BANG!
….
…
..
.
Yeah, I SAID IT!
FYI – My penis has never and it will never bang YOU, Stewie. So in the words of former United States Senator John Ensign's spiritual advisor, Tim Coe, "Put your pants on and leave!"
--------------------------------------
Night all. And again, be thankful for your spouse, bf, or girl, and don’t you f**king dare cheat on them! I have a zero tolerance policy toward cheaters!
--------------------------------------
This broadcast was brought to you courtesy of K97.5, the greatest hip-hop radio station on the planet!
This broadcast was also brought to you by Willie Geist, the biggest geek on the entire planet :-)!
#1. Last weekend, anxiety over my leasing situation led me to release a Charlie-Sheen-like torrent of angry rants and raves. I’m genuinely sorry about that. I hope nobody took any of it personally. What happens while drunk stays in drunkenland. That’s my motto!
#2. I’m currently under an emotional love spell, so the next few weeks of blog postings may include a lot of “gay,” lovey-dovey crap. Thankfully, this spell hasn’t affected my sharp wit, so keep a keen eye out for some comedy galore.
#3. I wrote a bit about all that “hippity hoppity Enema man crap” last Friday. I had heard through the grapevine that someone I like quite fancies children, so in an attempt to impress her—a pathetic one, at that—I came up with the whole hiphop enlightenment stuff. The truth is that I love gangster/thug rap. Speaking of which, “BRICK SQUADDDDDDDDDD!”
Show Me His Crack Whores!
Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, Sarah Palin, Karl Rove, and a bunch of other loony-tune, right-wing nuts threw a fit this week because President Barack Obama invited rapper Common and r&b singer Jill Scott to the White House for a poetry reading. They even went so far as to label Common a “thug.”
As someone who spent half his childhood aspiring to be a thug, I take great offense to this accusation. Real thugs smoke blunts and Newports, have at least two pitbulls (one of which has had to be lobotomized for biting a white person), and own a minimum of two crack whores. Show me Common’s crack whores. Where are his crack whores? I see no crack whores. Why? Because Common isn’t a thug! He’s just a white guy with a fantastic tan!
On a more serious note, if Sean Hannity and crew think Common is a thug, then they have something else coming to them. I’ve met real thugs, and I assure you that they don’t give a rat’s ass about meaningful lyrics or reaching out to the kids. A real thug believes in three principles: money, power, and respect. Money leads to power; power leads to respect. Disrespect the set and you might get hit with the tech!
This whole situation reminds me of the terms ‘new money’ and ‘old money.’ Our world is ruled by ‘old money’: uptight and self-righteous hypocrites who hate everything related to equality, justice, and the youth. Unfortunately for them, a generation of ‘new money’ is slowly rising up and will one day take over from the Middle East to America and beyond. Unlike our ‘old money’ peers, many of who go to great lengths to hide behind a façade of purported morality and sophisticated class, we ‘new money’ cats aren’t afraid to keep it real all day, every single day.
The point I’m trying to make is that Hannity and his crew of flunkies are stuck-up, self-righteous aristocratic assholes incapable of embracing love and truth. Instead, they thrive on perpetuating an endless stream of hatred. They hate having a black president, they hate having black culture paraded in front of their face, and they hate the direction this country is going—toward true freedom and equality for all. Unbeknownst to them, they’ve already lost the battle. No election or law is going to be able to stop my generation from one day rising up and taking over.
This isn’t a rant against old people, because some of the coolest people on Earth are outrageously old, i.e., Mike Barnicle. This is a rant against the bourgeois. In particular, it’s a rant against those who think they’re better than everybody else. Yes, Jill Scott and Common have been known to sing questionable lyrics, and yes, it’s possible that Common has smoked a spliff once or twice. However, that doesn’t mean in any way, shape, or form that Jill Scott and Common are “trash”!
Anyway. Before ending this bit, I’d like to give a shout-out to all the real thugs.
WEST SIDEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
The New Bad, Bad Leroy Brown
Speaking of very cool but practically deceased old people, Mike Barnicle laid the smack down this Wednesday:
"He [Newt Gingrich] is a delusional loser with an intellectual chip on his shoulder. That might be his biggest handicap in terms of the public. He has this habit, this way of prattling on about all of the ideas, the new ideas that he comes up with for our political system. And it’s because probably he went to like East Overshoe College or something and wants to prove that he’s smarter than anybody from the Northeast – from Harvard. He is just ridiculous. This is ridiculous. His candidacy is a joke."
Agreed! Newt is nothing more than a sly-talking car salesman. He’s the type of guy who would try to sell you a run-down, piece-of-shit car by claiming he once used it to visit his former wife in the hospital while she was recovering from cancer surgery. Of course, he would completely fail to mention that all the carbon monoxide leaking from the car screwed his brain up so badly that when he finally reached her, he used the opportunity to discuss the details of their divorce!!!
Brief News: Sean Hannity Looks Into The Mirror For The First Time And Is Shocked At What He Discovers
Early Friday morning, Fox News correspondent Sean Hannity did the unthinkable. He walked into a restroom at the Fox News Headquarters, took off his customary blindfold, and finally mustered up enough courage to look into a mirror.
“Oh my God . . . I’m an ass!” Hannity was heard yelling by his Fox News peers.
According to Hannity’s assistant, Eileen, his mother strictly forbade him from ever looking into a mirror on the basis that “mirrors are for Hollywood-type liberals who’re obsessed with vanity.”
“She obviously told Sean that to protect him because he’s an ass,” Eileen told reporters. “But he started growing more and more restless; I guess he just couldn’t stand not knowing what he really is anymore.”
“I tried to persuade him not to go through with it, but his mind was already made up,” she added.
Fox News released a press release late Thursday evening claiming that Hannity has since come to terms with his shocking discovery, but an undercover report by MSNBC correspondent Richard Engel suggests otherwise.
“I heard through the grapevine that he’s planning to have his ‘mouth’ sewed shut because ‘the Constitution doesn’t say anything about the separation of butt and hole,’” Engel claimed.
In related news, Rush Limbaugh just discovered that he’s in fact a big, giant dick.
Fact of the story: The thing in the mirror is a Coco De Mer. It's the biggest nut in the world. I thought it most fitting, especially since it’s a nut that looks like an ass :-).
Moral of the story: I do not like this men, and I’m not just saying this out my ass. I hate lovey-dovey, r&b music right now, so whenever K97.5 plays it, I switch over to the conservative station for a bit. Trust me when I say the get is a royal douche!
Interesting Facts: Why It’s So Hard To Find a GF On OkCupid
The average man is facing an uphill battle finding love these days. He has given up searching for it in the real world, so he looks for it on OkCupid instead. Unfortunately, he has no success, and here are some of the reasons why:
1/10th of online girls are so obese the man has to scroll the screen to view their entire body.
1/10th of online girls are so ugly that even the man’s dog is forced to look away from the screen.
1/10th of online girls are bisexuals.
1/10th of online girls are bisexuals who already have a bf but would like a gf to join in on the fun.
1/10th of online girls claim to be straight, though they sport way-too-short, lesbianish hardoes.
1/10th of online girls take fictional characters and stories way too seriously.
1/10th of online girls have the muscular physique of a man.
1/10th of online girls have tattoos and earrings in places they’re not supposed to have tattoos and earrings!
1/10th of online girls are into drugs, alcohol, and smoking.
1/10th of online girls are too insipid to write anything on their profile.
Moral of the story: Finding love online is a bitch! And most of the women I encounter online are . . . LOL, j/k! (angel face)
Apology of the story: I’m genuinely sorry to have used Rosie O’Donnell for the associated pic. I respect her and think she’s a very sweet woman, but I think her heart is in the wrong place when it comes to Bin Laden.
Tin Man Returns To The Emerald City To Petition for Cardiac Surgery
The notorious Tin Man, whose 1939 journey to the Emerald City with Kansas farm girl Dorothy Gale was chronicled in the movie “The Wizard of Oz,” made a surprise return visit to the city late Thursday afternoon. During a press conference held later that evening alongside the yellow brick road, he revealed to reporters his intention to petition the Wizard of Oz, MD, to remove his heart.
“I have been living 72 stinking years with this piece of crap heart, and I’m sick and tired of it,” the Tin Man said, while simultaneously squirting oil into his mouth to keep himself lubricated. “I thought it would be great to have a heart, but all it has ever brought me is pain.”
He continued, “I keep falling for Tin Girls who aren’t interested in me, the few quality friends I make whom I actually like never stick around, and every friggen time I accidentally step on a stupid-ass ant, I feel compelled to burst into tears. It sucks, bro!”
The Tin Man went on to explain how, after obtaining a heart in 1939, he moved to Winkie County, started attending the local university, and began searching for suitable friends and a “kickass” mate.
“I tried for years to attract a quality Tin Girl, but they always found me to be a tad bit too rusty, which is total bullshit because it’s not my fault I was forged from some really cheap-ass tin.”
After a heart-wrenching rejection in 1963—during which a Tin Girl to whom he had written a sweet love letter to freaked out, burned the letter, and said that he’s a loser “unworthy” of her time—the Tin Man became so disillusioned and embittered that he sought the friendship, love, and guidance of the only Tin People who were willing to accept him: the R2D2-13 gang.
Under their tutelage, he learned how to scrub rust off himself by using a brush caked in marijuana resin, lubricate his creaking joints by pouring alcohol on them, and fix any broken tin ligaments by stealing new ones from the Winkie County Prosthetics Laboratory.
“What we were doing was really wrong and got us into a lot of trouble, but I didn’t care at the time because for once in my life I felt like I actually belonged,” the Tin Man said, dabbing at his eyes with an oilkerchief. “I was always on the go, meeting new Tin People, making really great jokes, and just living it up, man.”
Soon after, the R2D2-13s introduced the Tin Man to one of their Tin Hoes, a young and bosomous Tin Broad with a penchant for “money, mo’ money, and even mo’ money.”
“I had a lot of student loan money at the time, so she latched on and showed me the love and attention I wanted, and so I fell in love,” he continued. “She introduced me to Tin Sex and something called a Bulgarian Tin Dive, but it wasn’t meant to be; she was a wild, party girl who just wanted to make money and spend it, while I meanwhile was slowly maturing and realizing I wanted more out of my measly Tin life.”
After the termination of his relationship with the Tin Broad, as well as his friendship with the R2D2-13s (many of whom have since run out of oil), the Tin Man gradually got his life together by completing his education, finding gainful employment, and developing fiscal responsibility. He now lives his life as a responsible, tax-paying Tin citizen of Oz.
“Yep, I have the whole wide world going for me now,” the Tin Man commented, rolling his Tin eyes. “It’s true that I have money and feel a certain degree of success, but it means nothing without a quality Tin Girl by my side; a few friends would be nice too, but my Tin Girl will always be my number one BFF.”
“You know, sometimes I want nothing more than to just go back to the days when I didn’t have a care in the world—when I prowled the streets of Winkie County with the R2D-13s and had sex with hot Tin Hoes.”
The accumulation of all these painful emotions is what led the Tin Man back to Oz. If he’s able to convince the Wizard of Oz, MD, to remove his heart, then he’ll finally be able to live his life in peace—“a life without stupid emotions like loneliness, infatuation, anxiety, and fear.”
He added, “Plus, it would be really friggen nice to be able to eat burgers and fries everyday without having to worry about having a heart attack!”
Fact of the story: This tale is an exaggerated version of my life.
Moral of the story: I would gladly trade in my organic heart for an electrical one instead. Keep in mind I’m speaking metaphorically, because the heart has absolutely nothing to do with one’s emotions.
-----------------------------------------------------------
I hope you guys enjoyed that! Some of it came from the heart, while the rest of it came from pure annoyance (HANNITY!).
PS #1 –
Go str8 to hell @ all the scummy oil-company execs refusing to give up their TAXPAYER-FUNDED subsidies and take part in shared sacrifice because they believe in “shared prosperity”—aka screwing over the citizens of the United States of America. You call us un-American? Bitch please. My oddly shaped and moley dick is more American than you bitch-ass frauds!
PS #2 –
When I went to the grocery store earlier this week, I encountered a father with his son. What’s interesting is that the two were practically stalking me, in that they bought everything I bought—milk, cottage cheese, juice, etc. You know what this means, right? I have fatherly instincts :-)! Yep, I was meant to be a father. It’s clear as crystal day, son!
PS #3 –
I’ll be moving very soon. My landlord is a nice guy, but he’s not a people person—and he’s managed to drive all the other tenants out of here. It sucks because I really enjoyed the company of my most recent roomie. He was a nice, young fellow with whom I could relate. He had gangsterish tendencies, but he was also smart, articulate, and a first-class ladies’ man!
Anyway. I’ll be the next and last one to go. Even if I were to convince the landlord to let me lease the whole home, I just can’t afford it!!! If anyone in my neighborhood needs a roomie, please contact me. And trust me when I say that money is no concern. So if you want an extra $750.00/month in your life, hollatcha’ boy.
Keep in mind I have a dog, I smoke (I can stop), and I have a weight set that MUST come with me—even if I have to store it in my bedroom. I’d rather sleep on the floor than lose the one thing that keeps me emotionally and physically healthy.
PS #4 –
My brother is so desperate to be “close” (he’s as much a girl as Robert Barone; YUCK!) that he has offered to buy me a townhouse down the street from him. The goal is for me to manage the home until my parents retire, at which point I should have enough money to buy my own place.
This sounds ridiculous for an Agnostic to say, but I believe God intended for me to stay here. Back in late 2004 / early 2005, my life was falling apart. I got suspended from college (don’t ask), I was doped up on pills, and I had no hope. One day I wrote down a prayer asking God to bring a woman into my life who would change it forever—one with whom I could spend the rest of my life with, in a big home on a big hill with a big backyard.
Really soon after, I met someone online, for whom I came to Raleigh. That “relationship” didn’t work out, but I’ve been much happier here than I ever was back in my hometown. Yeah, I could live like Ray Barone one day with my brother and parents next door to me, but after having spent months paying close attention to Barone’s teachings, why the hell would I want to purposefully expose myself to such horror!?
PS #5 –
I know some people out there are thinking, “Get help!” No offense, but f**k you. As someone with Asperger’s Syndrome, I’ve been forced all my life to talk to counselors and therapists. As far as I’m concerned, they’re all a bunch of loudmouth idiots (no offense @ Diana, the old dude, and that one chick, lol). In fact, my most recent counselor admitted to me that I’m “too smart” for this crap. Hell, I can read and digest a therapist’s soul before he or she is even able to figure out how to properly pronounce my name. I don’t need help; what I need is a woman.
Let me put it in Laymen’s terms:
I have a penis and it needs to BANG!
….
…
..
.
Yeah, I SAID IT!
FYI – My penis has never and it will never bang YOU, Stewie. So in the words of former United States Senator John Ensign's spiritual advisor, Tim Coe, "Put your pants on and leave!"
--------------------------------------
Night all. And again, be thankful for your spouse, bf, or girl, and don’t you f**king dare cheat on them! I have a zero tolerance policy toward cheaters!
--------------------------------------
This broadcast was brought to you courtesy of K97.5, the greatest hip-hop radio station on the planet!
This broadcast was also brought to you by Willie Geist, the biggest geek on the entire planet :-)!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
May 6th | Lovely Day (Bill Withers) | Happy Mother's Day
How is everyone? Today I have a feature satire piece that targets women who chase after bad men. In particular, I’m going after all the annoying women who show up on Maury to cry about how “MY MAN” (a guy she stole from another woman) “IS CHEATING” (how shocking) “WITH ANOTHER WOMAN” (it would have been way more interesting if it had been another man; maybe next time).
The original inspiration for this piece came from my landlord, who kind of pissed me off earlier this week. It was going to be about a landlord and part-time construction worker named Chuck “Assplucker” Gordan (who hurls catcalls at women, wears shinny boots, and is really friggen short), but not anymore. My intention was to make him look foolish, but as new information was uncovered, I ended up being the one looking like a fool—a red-faced and short-tempered fool with a penchant for racial epithets, lol.
Anyway. This is some of the best satire I’ve completed in weeks, so please check it out!
Gotcha’, bitch! (Dave Chappelle)
As you all know, Osama Bin Laden is dead, deceased, swimming with the fishes, getting raped by formerly virgin males, and crying so very many tears. Should we rejoice?
Some folks say no. They’ve been reciting fake quotes courtesy of Martin King Jr.—something about the death of a man not being something to celebrate.
Well, I say f**k ‘em.
Look, if Martin Luther King, Jr. had been alive on Sunday, he would have grabbed three of the hottest broads dancing outside the White House and screwed them right there and then. If Jesus had been alive on Sunday, he would have stolen a dollar from a homeless man and used it to buy a Black & Mild. Hell, if the Virgin Mary had been alive on Sunday, she wouldn’t have been a virgin anymore by Monday morning!
We can celebrate, rejoice, and get drunk because Osama got what he deserved. The guy killed and promoted the torture of thousands of people. He’s an über scumbag who got off light, in my opinion. 23-hour lockdown in a cell with OJ Simpson for the rest of his life would have been more appropriate, but what is done is done.
Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t one of the cats bouncing in glee Sunday evening. I took the news solemnly, and I’ve been thinking about it all week. But now that’s it’s the weekend and I have a beer in my hand, it’s time for me to have my own “ID-driven” moment! That said . . .
Ding-Dong! The bitch is dead!
.
.
.
Or is he?
Who Deserves Credit?
I lot of people deserve credit for Osama’s assassination. Republican Congressman Joe Scarborough put it best in his recent column for Politico, A time to say thanks (Why doesn’t he ever capitalize the verbs and nouns in his article titles?):
"Thank you to the Army, Marine Corps, Navy, Air Force, Coast Guard and National Guard. Thank you to America’s intelligence community. Thank you to our first responders, New York’s police and fire departments; former President George W. Bush, former Vice President Dick Cheney and their administration; Rudy Giuliani and America’s mayors and governors; Gens. David Petraeus and Stanley McChrystal and the Joint Chiefs of Staff; Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, Defense Secretary Robert Gates, White House counter-terrorism adviser John Brennan, Gen. Mike Hayden, CIA Director Leon Panetta, Vice President Joe Biden, FBI Director Robert Mueller, the Obama administration and the Democrats and Republicans who served America’s best interests over the past decade."
I would have appreciated it if he mentioned Obama by name, but it’s okay. Unfortunately, he’s completely wrong. There’s one, and only one person who deserves credit for taking out Osama Bin Laden . . .
On a serious note, I want to thank all the Navy Seals out there. You guys are true-to-life super heroes! Not only are you physically strong, but you’re mentally strong as well. It’s truly very inspirational!
Don’t Sweat The Small Stuff
Professor of Psychology Howard Friedman (USCA Riverside) was on Coast to Coast AM radio last night talking about longevity, as in the factors that contribute to a long-lasting life. The key message I got from him is
Don’t sweat the small stuff, but do sweat the big stuff.
Basically, don’t waste your energy and soul getting angry and riled up over stupid, petty shit. Instead, direct that energy toward taking care of your body, establishing healthy relationships, and building a successful future.
This is an important message that the youth needs to hear. I’m especially concerned about kids and young adults who wander the grimy alleyways of the streets. Street folks tend to get angry very quickly over the pettiest, most meaningless shit. When I used to hang out on the streets—I ain’t from Compton, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t lived in some rough neighborhoods—I noticed them always yelling, bickering, fighting, and getting caught up in endless controversies.
STOP IT!
Focus on shit that really matters. Who cares if that dude said you’re whack. Who cares if one of Bay Bay’s kids threw a tomato at you. Who the hell bloody cares that some wangster is hitting on your woman. Do you trust her? Then lay off, already!
Sometimes, I worry about these kids. It’s all that hippity hoppity “Enema Man” stuff messing with their heads. You know, if someone could combine the grittiness of hiphop with positive lyrics that actually make sense and aren’t self-absorbed, they would have a brilliant combination on their hands.
Some people have tried expressing positive messages with hiphop, but the kids don’t listen because the music and the music videos are whack. They need a fly video with cool cars and cute girls (properly dressed, mind you), not to mention children of different faiths and ethnicities dancing together.
Unfortunately, I don’t think it’ll ever happen. Gangster rappers are too stupid to write meaningful lyrics, and educators are too lacking in style to create hot beats and fly videos. If someone could just breach the barrier, they could propel hiphop into a whole new era of spiritual enlightenment and education!
That’s just my opinion, though.
What Would You Do?
Is it discrimination to not hire someone because he refuses to take off his yamaka at work? I say no. Just like I can't stroll into work with a baseball cap or sagging pants, why should someone be allowed to wear their religious hat? That doesn't make sense to me.
I don't want to encounter religion at a fast food restaurant, which is fair considering that we’re a secular nation. Plus, everybody dresses the same at any job, so why should it be different because of people’s religious beliefs? I know I’m wrong (very wrong), but I’m having difficulty understanding why.
I tell you what, though. If I ever have to get a regular job again, first I’m going to start my own religion and mandate that all worshippers (including me) always wear baggy pants, a blazer, a sideways-tilted hat, a shiny grill, and ice ice baby . . . WHOO . . . HOO!
That’s a stock photo I tried to unstockdify, so that’s why it looks so jacked up.
Landlord To Evict Tenant For Being Too Outstanding
Raleigh, NC landlord Lauren Wastl announced to reporters Wednesday afternoon her intention to serve the best tenant she’s ever had with an eviction notice. The controversial and completely unexpected move came in response to Lauren, 43, discovering that her tenant has not only been washing his own dishes, but also washing the dishes of the other tenants as well.
“What an altruistic son of a bitch!” Lauren exclaimed to reporters, while simultaneously adjusting her bra with one hand and adjusting her panty hose with the other. “It’s one thing to wash your own dishes now and again, which is bad enough, but it’s another thing altogether to wash someone else’s dishes.”
She continued, “Has he no shame!?”
Lauren went on to cite the unnamed tenant’s many other party fouls, which included keeping the residence shiny clean, taking out the neighbors’ trash, regularly changing the light bulbs, providing the other tenants with free cable and Internet services, and complimenting her on her management skills, which the tenant said were are as “polished as that of an MBA executive.”
“What a stinking piece of sissified shit!”
Though Lauren’s attitude seems somewhat cruel and unusual in this day and age, what with the rampant rise in spiritual enlightenment and Ben & Jerry’s ice cream flavors, it’s not abnormal, according to Dr. Bingham Hall, a professor of sociology at the University of California LA.
“I’ve been studying landlord-tenant relationships for years, and I’ve discovered that though most landlords claim they want mature and respectful tenants, what they really want are lawless tenants who aren’t afraid to treat a residence like they would a porta-potty,” Dr. Hall wrote in “Why Do Good Landlords Like Bad Tenants,” which was featured in the January 2011 edition of Landlordpolitan Magazine.
“The irony is that 85% of landlord-tenant relationships fail within the first year, before the lease is even up, because the landlord finds herself incapable of handling the tenant’s unmanageable behavior. And a whopping 75% of these cases are a result of jealously. The weak, insecure, and fragile landlord tries to attach herself to the big, burly, and unrefined tenant, only to be rejected. This creates a dynamic tension that rocks the very foundation of the leasing contract and provokes the tenant to pack his bags and leave.”
Dr. Hall went on to explain how repeated failures and increasing pressure from the housing authority eventually lead the landlord to do the unthinkable: select a quality tenant. And that’s exactly what happened to Lauren.
“Yeah, I used to lease my residence to gang bangers, drug dealers, and thieves, not to mention Erwin; he was the grooviest pimp I’d ever met,” Lauren said when NBC news reporter Richard Engel brought up Professor Hall’s research. “And yeah, they all ended up leaving, so the housing authority convinced me to lease it to a ‘good guy.’”
“But I’m so sick and tired of this goody-two-shoes shmuck!” she added.
“Look, I want tenants who are bad, unpredictable, and out of control,” Lauren explained, while simultaneously making erotic hand gestures at a scruffy-looking bum who had decided to attend the conference. “Why would I want a wussy tenant who wipes the toilet clean and keeps the seat down, when I could have one with enough balls to just take a shit in the sink and hit the garbage-disposal switch?”
The unnamed tenant may still have a chance, however, if his neighbors testimonies are true. They say that he brought a dog into the community without asking for permission or paying the customary fee. And he has a bad habit of letting the mutt’s poop collect outside for days on end.
“Yeah, I heard about that, and for a second I was so starting to dig the tenant,” Lauren said, shaking her head in dismay, “but then I found out that the only reason he doesn’t pick it up is so that it gets turned into fertilizer when the city mows the lawn.”
She continued, “He really must have no shame!”
Moral of the story #1: Why do good girls like bad guys?
Moral of the story #2: Why do good dog owners like bad dogs?
Moral of the story #3: Why do smart people like stupid shows like Maury?
-------------------------------------------
That’s it for today. Hope you enjoyed it. Have a nice weekend and be thankful for your husbands, wives, kids, and extremely annoying pets (the damn gold fish keeps swimming around the tank; just stay STILL already!).
PS #1 – I’m really starting to like Will Ferrell. He’s actually pretty darn funny! I swear that when he dies, I will make love to his corpse. It is a tradition among my people—a way to express our love to our most beloved heroes. And you, Mr. Ferrell, are my f**king hero.
PS #2 – I may be moving soon. I don’t want to, but I may have no other choice. I’m not very happy because I love my current home (for MANY reasons), and I don’t want to start over in a new neighborhood around new people. I barely know the people around me as is, but still, it’s my community. My parents have even suggested I move to my brother’s state, but I absolutely refuse to do that. I love Raleigh! Plus, his state is too liberal. Hell, they fine people up there just for littering. I’m a righteous dude and all, but sometimes I like to litter, darnit!
PS #3 – A friend of mine suggested to me that perhaps I’d have an easier time locating a quality woman if I gave up my smoking and drinking habits. NO DUH! However, I plan on going out like my Pops. He used to drink and smoke 2 packs a day. Then when he proposed to my Moms, her father explicitly told him that he would not support the marriage unless my Pops quit the bullshit, so he quit. I plan on doing something like that, though I don’t plan on waiting as long as he did.
Unlike my Pops, however, I’ll be never be the bread-winner. I am meant to be the stay-at-home father who changes diapers, which is so ironic considering how much I despise poop. You know, the fact that poop exists is proof enough for me that God doesn’t exist, but I digress. I want to be the loving, stay-at-home husband who pursues his practically impossible dream of one day becoming a famous writer while changing diapers, cooking meals (I learned to cook delicious drumsticks this week, courtesy of personal Facebook advice from America’s own Masterchef, Miss Whitney Miller; yay for me!), and watching Maury!
PS #4 – There’s a woman I like whom I’ve never in my life met before (please don’t ask me to explain). From the little I know about her (SHUT UP!), she has everything I desire in a woman. She’s intelligent, she really cares about children, she has an innocent spirit, she’s very nice, she’s a very hard worker, and she’s absolutely beautiful.
I’d like to approach her and get to know her, but I’m very afraid that I’ve already ruined any chances I have by being so damn bad and naughty. I’ll always be a smart-ass, but I know I can change some things. I lack the motivation right now, however, because for a long time I was a really good guy, but I was also lonely and miserable. I’m still lonely, but I’m definitely not miserable.
Anyway. Please do not try to read between the lines. I’m just expressing my current emotions because it helps to do as such. Keeping them bottled inside just makes me miserable.
PS #5 – Happy Mother’s Day!
All you Mothers better be thankful I’m not your son! And ya’ll single women pray I never up end your baby daddy! It may seem impossible now, but ya’ll know what alcohol does to a person’s judgment! Speaking of which, can I buy you drink (wink wink)?
.
.
.
.
.
And oh … to all the people who hate America:
You can hate us, but do NOT f**k with us!
The original inspiration for this piece came from my landlord, who kind of pissed me off earlier this week. It was going to be about a landlord and part-time construction worker named Chuck “Assplucker” Gordan (who hurls catcalls at women, wears shinny boots, and is really friggen short), but not anymore. My intention was to make him look foolish, but as new information was uncovered, I ended up being the one looking like a fool—a red-faced and short-tempered fool with a penchant for racial epithets, lol.
Anyway. This is some of the best satire I’ve completed in weeks, so please check it out!
Gotcha’, bitch! (Dave Chappelle)
As you all know, Osama Bin Laden is dead, deceased, swimming with the fishes, getting raped by formerly virgin males, and crying so very many tears. Should we rejoice?
Some folks say no. They’ve been reciting fake quotes courtesy of Martin King Jr.—something about the death of a man not being something to celebrate.
Well, I say f**k ‘em.
Look, if Martin Luther King, Jr. had been alive on Sunday, he would have grabbed three of the hottest broads dancing outside the White House and screwed them right there and then. If Jesus had been alive on Sunday, he would have stolen a dollar from a homeless man and used it to buy a Black & Mild. Hell, if the Virgin Mary had been alive on Sunday, she wouldn’t have been a virgin anymore by Monday morning!
We can celebrate, rejoice, and get drunk because Osama got what he deserved. The guy killed and promoted the torture of thousands of people. He’s an über scumbag who got off light, in my opinion. 23-hour lockdown in a cell with OJ Simpson for the rest of his life would have been more appropriate, but what is done is done.
Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t one of the cats bouncing in glee Sunday evening. I took the news solemnly, and I’ve been thinking about it all week. But now that’s it’s the weekend and I have a beer in my hand, it’s time for me to have my own “ID-driven” moment! That said . . .
Ding-Dong! The bitch is dead!
.
.
.
Or is he?
Who Deserves Credit?
I lot of people deserve credit for Osama’s assassination. Republican Congressman Joe Scarborough put it best in his recent column for Politico, A time to say thanks (Why doesn’t he ever capitalize the verbs and nouns in his article titles?):
"Thank you to the Army, Marine Corps, Navy, Air Force, Coast Guard and National Guard. Thank you to America’s intelligence community. Thank you to our first responders, New York’s police and fire departments; former President George W. Bush, former Vice President Dick Cheney and their administration; Rudy Giuliani and America’s mayors and governors; Gens. David Petraeus and Stanley McChrystal and the Joint Chiefs of Staff; Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, Defense Secretary Robert Gates, White House counter-terrorism adviser John Brennan, Gen. Mike Hayden, CIA Director Leon Panetta, Vice President Joe Biden, FBI Director Robert Mueller, the Obama administration and the Democrats and Republicans who served America’s best interests over the past decade."
I would have appreciated it if he mentioned Obama by name, but it’s okay. Unfortunately, he’s completely wrong. There’s one, and only one person who deserves credit for taking out Osama Bin Laden . . .
On a serious note, I want to thank all the Navy Seals out there. You guys are true-to-life super heroes! Not only are you physically strong, but you’re mentally strong as well. It’s truly very inspirational!
Don’t Sweat The Small Stuff
Professor of Psychology Howard Friedman (USCA Riverside) was on Coast to Coast AM radio last night talking about longevity, as in the factors that contribute to a long-lasting life. The key message I got from him is
Don’t sweat the small stuff, but do sweat the big stuff.
Basically, don’t waste your energy and soul getting angry and riled up over stupid, petty shit. Instead, direct that energy toward taking care of your body, establishing healthy relationships, and building a successful future.
This is an important message that the youth needs to hear. I’m especially concerned about kids and young adults who wander the grimy alleyways of the streets. Street folks tend to get angry very quickly over the pettiest, most meaningless shit. When I used to hang out on the streets—I ain’t from Compton, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t lived in some rough neighborhoods—I noticed them always yelling, bickering, fighting, and getting caught up in endless controversies.
STOP IT!
Focus on shit that really matters. Who cares if that dude said you’re whack. Who cares if one of Bay Bay’s kids threw a tomato at you. Who the hell bloody cares that some wangster is hitting on your woman. Do you trust her? Then lay off, already!
Sometimes, I worry about these kids. It’s all that hippity hoppity “Enema Man” stuff messing with their heads. You know, if someone could combine the grittiness of hiphop with positive lyrics that actually make sense and aren’t self-absorbed, they would have a brilliant combination on their hands.
Some people have tried expressing positive messages with hiphop, but the kids don’t listen because the music and the music videos are whack. They need a fly video with cool cars and cute girls (properly dressed, mind you), not to mention children of different faiths and ethnicities dancing together.
Unfortunately, I don’t think it’ll ever happen. Gangster rappers are too stupid to write meaningful lyrics, and educators are too lacking in style to create hot beats and fly videos. If someone could just breach the barrier, they could propel hiphop into a whole new era of spiritual enlightenment and education!
That’s just my opinion, though.
What Would You Do?
Is it discrimination to not hire someone because he refuses to take off his yamaka at work? I say no. Just like I can't stroll into work with a baseball cap or sagging pants, why should someone be allowed to wear their religious hat? That doesn't make sense to me.
I don't want to encounter religion at a fast food restaurant, which is fair considering that we’re a secular nation. Plus, everybody dresses the same at any job, so why should it be different because of people’s religious beliefs? I know I’m wrong (very wrong), but I’m having difficulty understanding why.
I tell you what, though. If I ever have to get a regular job again, first I’m going to start my own religion and mandate that all worshippers (including me) always wear baggy pants, a blazer, a sideways-tilted hat, a shiny grill, and ice ice baby . . . WHOO . . . HOO!
That’s a stock photo I tried to unstockdify, so that’s why it looks so jacked up.
Landlord To Evict Tenant For Being Too Outstanding
Raleigh, NC landlord Lauren Wastl announced to reporters Wednesday afternoon her intention to serve the best tenant she’s ever had with an eviction notice. The controversial and completely unexpected move came in response to Lauren, 43, discovering that her tenant has not only been washing his own dishes, but also washing the dishes of the other tenants as well.
“What an altruistic son of a bitch!” Lauren exclaimed to reporters, while simultaneously adjusting her bra with one hand and adjusting her panty hose with the other. “It’s one thing to wash your own dishes now and again, which is bad enough, but it’s another thing altogether to wash someone else’s dishes.”
She continued, “Has he no shame!?”
Lauren went on to cite the unnamed tenant’s many other party fouls, which included keeping the residence shiny clean, taking out the neighbors’ trash, regularly changing the light bulbs, providing the other tenants with free cable and Internet services, and complimenting her on her management skills, which the tenant said were are as “polished as that of an MBA executive.”
“What a stinking piece of sissified shit!”
Though Lauren’s attitude seems somewhat cruel and unusual in this day and age, what with the rampant rise in spiritual enlightenment and Ben & Jerry’s ice cream flavors, it’s not abnormal, according to Dr. Bingham Hall, a professor of sociology at the University of California LA.
“I’ve been studying landlord-tenant relationships for years, and I’ve discovered that though most landlords claim they want mature and respectful tenants, what they really want are lawless tenants who aren’t afraid to treat a residence like they would a porta-potty,” Dr. Hall wrote in “Why Do Good Landlords Like Bad Tenants,” which was featured in the January 2011 edition of Landlordpolitan Magazine.
“The irony is that 85% of landlord-tenant relationships fail within the first year, before the lease is even up, because the landlord finds herself incapable of handling the tenant’s unmanageable behavior. And a whopping 75% of these cases are a result of jealously. The weak, insecure, and fragile landlord tries to attach herself to the big, burly, and unrefined tenant, only to be rejected. This creates a dynamic tension that rocks the very foundation of the leasing contract and provokes the tenant to pack his bags and leave.”
Dr. Hall went on to explain how repeated failures and increasing pressure from the housing authority eventually lead the landlord to do the unthinkable: select a quality tenant. And that’s exactly what happened to Lauren.
“Yeah, I used to lease my residence to gang bangers, drug dealers, and thieves, not to mention Erwin; he was the grooviest pimp I’d ever met,” Lauren said when NBC news reporter Richard Engel brought up Professor Hall’s research. “And yeah, they all ended up leaving, so the housing authority convinced me to lease it to a ‘good guy.’”
“But I’m so sick and tired of this goody-two-shoes shmuck!” she added.
“Look, I want tenants who are bad, unpredictable, and out of control,” Lauren explained, while simultaneously making erotic hand gestures at a scruffy-looking bum who had decided to attend the conference. “Why would I want a wussy tenant who wipes the toilet clean and keeps the seat down, when I could have one with enough balls to just take a shit in the sink and hit the garbage-disposal switch?”
The unnamed tenant may still have a chance, however, if his neighbors testimonies are true. They say that he brought a dog into the community without asking for permission or paying the customary fee. And he has a bad habit of letting the mutt’s poop collect outside for days on end.
“Yeah, I heard about that, and for a second I was so starting to dig the tenant,” Lauren said, shaking her head in dismay, “but then I found out that the only reason he doesn’t pick it up is so that it gets turned into fertilizer when the city mows the lawn.”
She continued, “He really must have no shame!”
Moral of the story #1: Why do good girls like bad guys?
Moral of the story #2: Why do good dog owners like bad dogs?
Moral of the story #3: Why do smart people like stupid shows like Maury?
-------------------------------------------
That’s it for today. Hope you enjoyed it. Have a nice weekend and be thankful for your husbands, wives, kids, and extremely annoying pets (the damn gold fish keeps swimming around the tank; just stay STILL already!).
PS #1 – I’m really starting to like Will Ferrell. He’s actually pretty darn funny! I swear that when he dies, I will make love to his corpse. It is a tradition among my people—a way to express our love to our most beloved heroes. And you, Mr. Ferrell, are my f**king hero.
PS #2 – I may be moving soon. I don’t want to, but I may have no other choice. I’m not very happy because I love my current home (for MANY reasons), and I don’t want to start over in a new neighborhood around new people. I barely know the people around me as is, but still, it’s my community. My parents have even suggested I move to my brother’s state, but I absolutely refuse to do that. I love Raleigh! Plus, his state is too liberal. Hell, they fine people up there just for littering. I’m a righteous dude and all, but sometimes I like to litter, darnit!
PS #3 – A friend of mine suggested to me that perhaps I’d have an easier time locating a quality woman if I gave up my smoking and drinking habits. NO DUH! However, I plan on going out like my Pops. He used to drink and smoke 2 packs a day. Then when he proposed to my Moms, her father explicitly told him that he would not support the marriage unless my Pops quit the bullshit, so he quit. I plan on doing something like that, though I don’t plan on waiting as long as he did.
Unlike my Pops, however, I’ll be never be the bread-winner. I am meant to be the stay-at-home father who changes diapers, which is so ironic considering how much I despise poop. You know, the fact that poop exists is proof enough for me that God doesn’t exist, but I digress. I want to be the loving, stay-at-home husband who pursues his practically impossible dream of one day becoming a famous writer while changing diapers, cooking meals (I learned to cook delicious drumsticks this week, courtesy of personal Facebook advice from America’s own Masterchef, Miss Whitney Miller; yay for me!), and watching Maury!
PS #4 – There’s a woman I like whom I’ve never in my life met before (please don’t ask me to explain). From the little I know about her (SHUT UP!), she has everything I desire in a woman. She’s intelligent, she really cares about children, she has an innocent spirit, she’s very nice, she’s a very hard worker, and she’s absolutely beautiful.
I’d like to approach her and get to know her, but I’m very afraid that I’ve already ruined any chances I have by being so damn bad and naughty. I’ll always be a smart-ass, but I know I can change some things. I lack the motivation right now, however, because for a long time I was a really good guy, but I was also lonely and miserable. I’m still lonely, but I’m definitely not miserable.
Anyway. Please do not try to read between the lines. I’m just expressing my current emotions because it helps to do as such. Keeping them bottled inside just makes me miserable.
PS #5 – Happy Mother’s Day!
All you Mothers better be thankful I’m not your son! And ya’ll single women pray I never up end your baby daddy! It may seem impossible now, but ya’ll know what alcohol does to a person’s judgment! Speaking of which, can I buy you drink (wink wink)?
.
.
.
.
.
And oh … to all the people who hate America:
You can hate us, but do NOT f**k with us!
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