I only wish I had the free time that must be necessary to put something like this together. If I ever do figure out a way to clear that much off my schedule I’m going to start with a bunch of Dane Cook clips. I’ll let Dane start the jokes and Louis C.K. can finish them since he wrote them.
Believe it or not, this website is not just some internet chump. It’s a highly technical network much like a 1920’s pimp working several different corners all the while letting each think they are my special place. I put information on this site, then my bottom bitch (twitter) spreads herpes the word to those waiting for the next post. A few of my other bitches (facebook, google, etc) help promote me as well and I’m always on the look out for another way to get my name out there keep my pimp hand strong.
This week while looking for new corners, the RSS feed for the very blog that you’re reading was rejected because “The content is inappropriate for syndication.” I didn’t get pissed off or go on some freedom of speech rant. I’m completely aware I’m allowed to say whatever I want, but nobody has to listen or help me repeat it. I wasn’t disappointed that I was rejected. No, I’m actually kind of proud. I’m not the edgiest comic on the block (Doug Stanhope). I don’t have a lot of life experiences that scare the average human (Kerry White). No one has ever had to tape my pants on so I wouldn’t pull my dick out on stage (Paul Hooper). I’ve never convinced an entire room full of people that retard porn is good for the economy (Matt Davis). I’ve never called a flag magnet the “aids ribbon of patriotism” (still my favorite hardcore line from Josh Goguen). And I’ve never got a standing ovation while mimicking a kick to my mother’s chemo bag (Mo Alexander).
Nope, I’m just a loud, arrogant, hick that likes to yell about living with 6 vaginas in a small town in the south. As simple as that sounds to both you and me, today I’m pretty proud of the fact that a nameless/faceless soul found the time to put his pizza and chocolate milk on his mother’s counter long enough to greasily poke out an email to let me know he actually read my blog and as the spokesperson for the uncensored world of internet syndication he has deemed my thoughts too dirty to help me spread my seed to soccer moms in western Iowa. Thank you sir for your honesty and I consider your opinion a compliment. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to watch a video of that same western Iowa soccer mom unscrewing the lid off the shampoo in her pussy without twisting the bottle.
I don’t normally post stuff like this but this video of a 600 pound gorilla molesting her retarded brother must be shared. It’s hilarious on the level of The Yellow Brick Road.
There’s no “real” nudity but I wouldn’t consider this very work safe.
I accidentally cropped out the flies
The young man in the picture is my new project. To protect his anonymity, we’ll call him Hepbee because he probably has it. The great thing about lil’ Hepbee is he was born in just the right place at just the right time. If you’ve ever read anything by Malcolm Gladwell you know these things will shape the rest of your life. That’s where I come in. Thanks to Sally Struthers, I’m able to feed this young man for $0.25 a day. Thanks to the One Laptop per Child program, he’s able to earn that quarter.
As the bible will tell you if you give a man a fish you feed him for a day, but if you give him laptop and a bowl of wheat he can find the best time and place to fish in Costa Rica, book you a discount flight and tour guide, and even email the cab service that will pick you up at the airport. If we’ve learned anything these past couple years it’s that this economic crisis is not national, it’s global. By picking an assistant with a solar powered laptop that lives close to the equator, I get a 12 hour work day with no carbon footprint.
I think we can all agree that I’m a shining example of the change that’s needed in this world. I hope more of you can follow my lead.
It's as if the sign can predict the future
This train track runs thru the middle of the small town I live in. There are five places to cross the tracks within a 1/2 mile and two of them are impossible with a truck and a trailer. The town is littered with signs informing drivers of this issue yet at least once a week I get to look at a scene exactly like the one above I photographed this morning. There are however a few things the picture doesn’t show you:
1. The man in orange is attempting to jack up a fully loaded 53′ trailer and rest it on a wooden pallet.
2. On the other side of the truck is a train waiting very impatiently.
3. This has been going on for 3 hours.
4. In 15 more minutes, there will be two trains waiting… only the next one is coming the opposite direction.
5. Someone in the crowd watching this fiasco is blaming it on Obama.
This is the problem with living in a free country. If the same scenario took place in China the truck driver would have pulled that trailer thru an elementary school to keep from disobeying those signs. I think we can all learn something from this. Instructions on signs must be followed.
Oh Christopher... Where the white women at?
What Would Tyler Durden Do has a story today about Vern Troyer (Mini Me for the uneducated) that makes me want to fist fuck reality tv. To pay his bills Vern is on the UK version of Celebrity Big Brother. It appears that Channel 4 did a quick public poll and what the people want is for little Vern to dress up like a bear and eat a pot of honey. You know, cause he’s tiny, like Winnie, and his voice is… oh fuck it. There’s no reason behind this. I’ve had a couple conversations with Dave Attell (viscous fucking name drop) about Vern, and the descriptions of his physical ailments alone justify a six figure salary. The guy is a lot of things. He’s an asshole, he’s a drunk, and he’s a womanizer. But one thing I can assure you of is he is not, a bear. Put him in a house with a bunch of booze and bikini clad women and you’ll get more than enough quality television. The LAPD can provide supporting documentation to my claim.
And before you ask, yes, I still think this is hilarious... and it
After you’ve been a comic for a certain period of time, you loose small parts of your personality. You’ve heard every silly joke/premise that it takes some people 20 years to catch wind of. Most things no longer make you laugh, they simply make you jealous you didn’t write them. And some of us loose the filter in our heads that says, “don’t say/do that.”
The other day I saw a retarded girl sitting on the floor in the mall chewing on a cell phone. I took a blurry picture because I was shaking from laughing and while I was emailing it to every comic I know, my wife asked me what I was doing. (Silence, try to explain)… “being an asshole.”
In the last 14 months I’ve had an accidental house fire, accidental child, and someone accidentally totaled my truck while it was parked. My new dog eats it’s own shit, my new daughter shits more than she eats, and my old neighbor’s wife won’t keep her nose out of my shit. We painted our red house grey, traded my brown truck for a blue car, and my liver may be the reason I’m yellow. My wife got nicer, my act got meaner, and did I mention my neighbor’s wife is a cunt? My mother-in-law claimed her shortness of breath was a heart attack, a bruise on her head was a blood clot, and I’m an asshole (that one she got right although I’m surprised she didn’t call me rectal cancer). My wife got her 2nd college degree, my daughter started kindergarden, and I got kicked out of the PTA. I paid for tubes to be tied, nuts to be cut, and still got told nothing is 100%. I bought a scooter and wrecked it, a go-cart and flipped it, and a 26′ couch and fucked the wife on it. Four of us lived in an 800 square foot house for 8 months, two of us drove 800 miles to perform for 12 people, and one of us calls the cops every third day at 8:00 to claim his neighbor’s wife may have died in her sleep. I started adding faces to my book, I use tweetdeck and twinkle for my twitter, and I pressed some words to create this very useless blog.
