Thursday, December 31, 2009

top 10 of 2009

Oh hey, check it out, it's my top 10 albums of 2009!

10. Dear Landlord - Dream Homes

Hell, I just wanted to have some pop-punk on my list. Certainly doesn't hurt that this album is awesome. It's just so catchy and fun. Not a lot needs to be said, but if you like Screeching Weasel as much as I do, you'll probably like this. And you know what else? It feels good to a have a release from local record label, No Idea, in my top 10.

9. Poison the Well - The Tropic Rot

I had never really listened to this band until recently, even though many would consider them to be among the most influential "metalcore" bands. The few tidbits I had heard never really stuck with me. For some reason though, this last week of December, I decided to check them out. Luckily, I started with this album, and it's pretty awesome. Due to the fact that I haven't spent much time with this album, it's rated kind of low.

8. Trapped Under Ice - Secrets of the World

I love tough hardcore, but you probably don't. If you're looking for modern, hard, hardcore, Trapped Under Ice do it better than most.

7. Gorod - Process of Decline

This album deserves a place on any top ten list based on the first couple songs alone. Remember in 2003 and 2004 when it was in vogue for inbred hillbillies to refer to french fries as "freedom fries"? Remember that shit? Well these frenchmen are here to let you know that, fuck yeah, the French aren't fucking around. Between these guys, Benighted, and Kronos, the French have got a lock on awesome death metal.

6. Agoraphobic Nosebleed - Agorpocalypse

Opting for a more accessible (?), thrashy, and slightly more hardcore sound on this one, ANb decided to write actual songs. Awesome riffs, awesome vocals, fucked up lyrics, and an overall fucked up aesthetic all add up to make this a great album.

5. David Moore - My Lover, My Stranger

Long story short: Chamberlain breaks up, fantastically talented lead singer fucks around for years with a solo album, and finally it's released. The result? An amazing vocalist/songwriter sings over music that reminds me of VH1 adult contemporary. This guy could sing over me splattering the porcelain with the warm, brown stuff, and it would still be awesome. This is really the only album on this list that I would recommend to you non punk rock/hardcore/metal readers.

4. Every Time I Die - New Junk Aesthetic

I love this album. It's fast, it's catchy, it's just great. And to think, I haven't paid much attention to these guys since Hot Damn!, I'm definitely gonna go back and check out the last couple releases. Whenever Wanderlust comes on, yeah, I'll be that asshole singing along every time.

3. Strung Out - Prototypes & Painkillers

OK, the only reason this wasn't number 2 is because the album that came in at number 2 was just so goddamn awesome. Being that this is a compilation of unreleased tracks, there are a couple of older stinkers on this one. Songs like Pleather, Novella, and Novacaine make up for any missteps the band took when they were just starting out.

2. Boxcutter - The Ill Testament

I don't know many people that like this band. I don't care, I love any totally thugged out hardcore. And for my money, Boxcutter does it better than anyone. Featuring members of Wisdom in Chains, Fury of V (!!!), Krutch, and Mushmouth, this is truly a hardcore supergroup of only the hardest. Easily the toughest cd in my collection, songs like "History Lesson Part 1" are hard as hell. This album makes me want to walk around downtown with my sword, or my .357 magnum.

1. Strung Out - Agents of the Underground

I guarantee you, for the rest of my life, as long as Strung Out releases an album, it'll be number one on my list. I find it to overall be a stronger effort than BOLA, but something about it just feels kind of thrown together. It may be because I wasn't aware of the album's release until just a month before it dropped. Usually I know 6 months in advance of a new Strung Out album. To me, the strongest songs on BOLA are a little better than the strongest songs on AotU; but I think there are more better songs on AotU. Does that make sense? Fuck you. About the only thing better than this album are big huge titties all up in my face. For all time. YOU READ THAT, HECKYEAHWOMAN!?!?!?!

Honorable Mentions - Napalm Death - Time Waits For No Slave; Blakroc - Blackroc. Truth is, I just totally forgot about these when I was doing the list.

And yes, I realize I left Coalesce and Converge off. Bottom line, I just didn't listen to those albums very much.

Best albums I snoozed on last year: Dillinger Escape Plan - Ire Works; Vampire Weekend - S/T

Don't like my list? What's your list? Post your gay list in the comments. Even better, think your list is that much better than mine? Email it to, and I'll dedicate an entire post to your shitty taste in music, twink.

Everybody have a safe and awesome New Years Eve!

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

first xmas wrap-up

Ok, finally! We have here the first edition of the HECK YEAH, MAN XMAS WRAP UP.

Some of you may know that heckyeahwoman and I hosted our first holiday this past xmas. That's right, 6 people, and a shitload of gifts, food, booze, and animals were crammed into 800 square feet of holy shit/sweet apartment.

Wow, I don't even know where to begin. So I'll just give you an overview.

It was awesome, virtually everybody (except me) contributed at least one (1) awesome dish for us to nomnomnom on. We had one of the most delicious turkeys I have ever tasted. That's right, it was some of the best meat ever to cross my lips. Easily the sweetest, most succulent meat to enter my mouth. So juicy, and just throbbing with flavor.

Everybody really pitched in and helped with the cooking and cleaning; of course, heckyeahwoman really kicked the most ass in the kitchen. Probably one of the most stressful tasks of hosting a holiday, the cooking, really went off without a hitch.

Other than a few awesome stories that will be shared at a different time, not a whole lot of bad things happened. Yeah, I got drunk and embarrassed myself in front of heckyeahfuturemotherinlaw. But that wasn't a big deal.

I apologized in the morning, and everything is fine.

Oh, and yeah, heckyeahfuturefatherinlaw and I both got loaded; heated words were exchanged, he called me a swarthy son of a bitch, and we actually came to blows. The fight went outside, and I almost threw him over the balcony.

No worries, though, everything's patched up. He even helped me fix my car up the next morning!

Looking back, it really was a success.

But there is one little story I would like to share with you:

Xmas morning, all 6 of us gathered around a shitload of GIFTS. We're all taking our time, opening gifts, having laughs, sipping piping hot coffee, me stealing glances down heackyeahwoman's shirt, just having a merry old time.

Taking turns opening gifts, it's now heckyeahwoman's turn. She grabs a rectangular box, and is now ripping and tearing, only to uncover a shiny, flowey, drapey looking thing. I don't even remember.

It was a piece of clothing. Not sure what kind of a piece of clothing, but it was a piece of clothing. Tube top, dress, skirt, your guess would have been as good as mine.

Naturally, I was inclined to ask, so I did: "Oh is that a dress?" Quickly realizing that I don't always discriminate* between a dress and a skirt, ur boi tossed out a, "or a skirt?".

Before anyone can even get out an answer, I get a catty reply from heckyeahfuturemotherinlaw about, "of course it's a skirt" - inferring that only a retard wouldn't know that it was a FUCKING SKIRT.

Whatever, I mutter to myself, definitely audible to any untrained ear, "how the fuck would I know, I don't wear gay shit like that". I thought it was pretty witty.

That was immediately followed with dirty looks from pretty much everybody present.

*Shoot, that's about the only thing I won't discriminate.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

i did not write this

...but it's really funny.

In the mid-80's, my new bride and I were among thousands of West Virginians who migrated to North Carolina for real work. I told my wife that because of the distance and expense, I could only bring her back to West Virginia once a month. She informed me twice a year would suit her fine.

As it turned out, within weeks of our move she was demanding to go home every weekend. She did not drive interstates then, so when I got home from my third shift job at eight in that Friday morning, instead of getting out of the car to go to my wonderful bed, the house door opened and my wife would come out with her bags and I would then drive the 500-mile trip. On the following Sunday afternoon, I would drive back to North Carolina, drop my wife off at the house, and then continue to my job. You can tell from this I really loved her.

Thankfully, over time, she started driving the interstates and I could sleep in the back of the car. On this fateful day, my sister-in-law, who was staying with us for a couple of weeks, was with us for her return trip. So as we started off that morning, I crawled into the back seat and drifted off to sleep. The next thing I knew there was a stinging on my face, and I could hear loud, vociferous yelling in the front seat. The sting had been caused by a cassette tape that had been thrown at me, and as I was becoming more awake, I was starting to comprehend that I was being yelled at for farting in my sleep.

I do not purposely fart around folks nor desire for folks to smell my gas. However, a fart might escape while I sleep after working a third shift, the proceeds from which were making it possible for my wife to see her folks on a weekly basis. The continued onslaught of verbal abuse made me boil.

I resolved that on the way back, they were going to get some real odor.

While at my folks' house, I went to work at formulating my revenge. First I bought a small tub of coleslaw; from experience, that stuff really makes me gas. Then I mixed in some Durkee burrito seasoning. One thing I had noticed about Durkee burrito seasoning was after I ingest some, I can still smell it in my gas and in my stool. Last but not least, I re-hydrated some minced onions. Re-hydrated minced onions not only induce copious farts, but enable them to have a staying power of odiferous density, kind of like an air biscuit.

I mixed together this horrid-tasting mélange. Then I put it in the windowsill in the warm sun to ferment. I could not but help to rub my hands together and cackle at my impending and devious revenge. About five minutes prior to departure for North Carolina, I slunk away and began to eat my chemical weapon. It did not taste good, but my obsession to give it to them (my sister-in-law was coming on the return trip) gave me the strength to consume it. I got all of it down and even licked the tub. We all got in the car and I laid down in the back seat and waited for the goop to take effect.

While laying in the backseat, my guts started rumbling and the pressure started to build. The girls up front were listing to the tape player and couldn't hear my guts for a while. But it started getting louder and a couple of times they turned the radio down, thinking the engine was making some weird noise.

This was the hardest instance of self-control I ever pulled off in my life. I had a deep-seated pain and ache on my sphincter. My intestines were inflated like a zeppelin. Only when I made it to the Virginia line did I decide to finally let loose. Finally, my revenge! Take that, you self-absorbed bitches!

I nearly had an orgasm when I finally let go, it felt so good. It was the loudest, densest fart I had EVER delivered. It burned when it rolled out. The fart lasted so long it actually tickled my asshole. Then another and another and the shrieking in the front seat became panic. The stench of the farts made ME queasy dense, oily, and caustic. My wife pulled to the side of the interstate and both front doors opened and my wife and sister-in-law started vomiting in unison. I was in that ecstasy of having produced a worthy revenge. The sound of the remains of their Roy Rogers sandwiches smacking the pavement was bliss. While they were retching, I felt another blockbuster in my entrails and let it fly, my icing on the cake.

It turned out to be icing, all right hot fecal icing. An uncontrollable stream of lava started exiting my ass at muzzle velocity. I got out of the back seat and ran up the hill next to the road behind some trees. I flung off my shit-coated pants and sat over a log while the rest of that fetid cataract of filth rushed out of my inflamed colon in spurts. My asshole and liquid poo was so hot, I'm surprised I didn't start a forest fire.

Between spurts I could hear my wife and sister-in-law alternatively puking and cursing. Then I could see, in the near twilight through the trees, a strobing blue light. The Virginia State Patrol had arrived on the scene. Instantly I could hear my wife screaming at the cop how I had made them all sick, nearly causing a wreck and endangering them and other motorists. The trooper remarked about the foul stench that still hung in the air. My sister-in-law lied to the trooper and told him I fled the scene and went up that-a-way, pointing in my direction.

Oh, what had I got myself into? I was so weak from shitting that miasma that I could not get up from that log. And even if I could, I was wearing no pants. What a way to encounter a Virginia State Trooper. I saw a flashlight beam heading my way. Then it stopped and I heard the cop cursing. Apparently, he stepped in some of my biology.

Virginia State Troopers are legend for their officiousness and lack of humor. This was not going to be good. I don't know why, but when he came up to me I put my hands up. Then the trooper laughed like hell. He asked for my I.D. and I pointed to my discarded shit-covered pants steaming in a pile. He said my car registration would do. He also offered all of us medical help, which we refused. The trooper returned to his cruiser and drove off to tell the story of the year to the barracks.

I got up, wiped my ass and legs with my t-shirt, and put my windbreaker on like pants. I had to throw away my socks and sneakers because the shit had run down and covered them both. My shit had been so liquid that my driver's license, credit cards and cash were covered in shit. It's interesting walking about in the outside world wearing only a windbreaker around your mid-region.

We got in the car and drove to the nearest town with our heads out of the window, where, at the cost of a couple hundred of caca-smelling dollars, my wife and sister-in-law rented a car in Wytheville and went back to North Carolina on their own. I had to buy my wife her own car because the smell in my own did not leave for days and she refused to ride in it.

We divorced later, and this incident was in her divorce complaint. Now and then I will see her in the grocery store and I'll hide behind something and make fart noises.

Monday, December 28, 2009

MAN UP MONDAY: a warning

A couple weeks ago, my good friend presented an awesome idea to me:


Upon reading through his proposal, I was impressed (****, very nice job on the formal proposal, by the way. The powerpoint was great, the report was fantastic, the sheep were a nice touch, and just an A+ job all around). He had something magical here; and it's my job to capitalize on this.

It's no secret that every Monday sucks. It's no secret that the workweek sucks. It's no secret that waking up at 6:19 on Monday morning is one of the worst feelings ever. Fuck, I even hate my beloved Sunday nights, because of what immediately follows - the next morning.

But you know what?

Yeah, I hate Monday mornings as much as the next person; but you won't ever hear me cry about it any more than a lame, cliched joke to a coworker.


Because I'm not a fucking pussy, that's why.

You know who we will hear cry about it, though?

Many facebook users.

Starting today (or, as you'll soon read, starting soon), for MAN UP MONDAY, I am going to think about the last good tear that was shed over the inevitable rigors of a Monday morning. It could be some lame joke about it at the water cooler at the office, it could be an early Monday morning facebook post, or it could be just some totally fabricated bullshit I made up in my own fantasy world that I live in. I don't know.

Always taking it a step further, I'm going to use names in my blog - something I've never done before, and something I don't feel totally comfortable with. But to truly improve yourself (or make an awesome blogpost), and I believe it was the former (lol, fired) dipshit VP of our company that said: "you need to get out of your comfort zone".

So that's exactly what I plan to do.

Every Monday, I'm going to post the full name, and the offending remark of some poor whiner - whoever has the most pussified, Obamaesque, Democratarian facebook status of the day. With that said, I may have to embellish, or make shit up.

But whatever, I'll be alienating my friends from facebook, coworkers, bosses, whoever; all for the greater good of this blog...or a few bad taste, awkward chuckles that could potentially get me fired, divorced in the future, or disowned by my family. The things I do for this blog, man.

But it gets worse; If the Monday morning crying is severe enough, then I'll have no choice but to take this a step further. Facebook is a goldmine of information. So for he (or she) who dares to publicly cry about Monday mornings, I will provide the opportunity for the entire internet to ridicule you further.

That's right, I'm going to post your picture, your full name, your email address, your physical address, your phone number, all this information for any family members, and anything else I find to be essential for this project. Also, I'm going post all of this information on many internet messageboards.

You're not going to have a chance.

I know I said something about starting today, but this post is going to serve as a warning to all those out there. It's almost the new year, make a resolution to be less of a fucking pussy. GO TO THE GYM.


Next Monday, maybe you won't be so lucky. This could be you (not the bull)

Thursday, December 24, 2009

i guess it's almost christmas

It's already the 22nd or whatever, so close to X-mas, and I've barely even mentioned the holiday. HOLY CRAP.

Most of you probably aren't aware of the awesomeness of the punk band, The Vandals. Lucky for you, I'm here to remedy that. Check out this vid of this awesome song, "My First X-mas as a Woman".

Oh, don't like punk rock? You're not a fan of awesome? You're a worthless, obese tub of shit? Then read the lyrics, penisleech:

With Christmas upon us it's time to be honest
and follow my dreams and to face
a life of delusion and gender confusion
no longer will be the case

I never wanted army men or basketballs,
I only wanted pantyhose and Barbie dolls
And dressing up in mother's clothing.

My whole life I've been feeling only feminine
It always seemed so useless trying to be a man
Now that's a ghost of Christmas past

Now it feels like the very first time,
cuz it's going to be the very first time,
that Christmas feels right to me.

And I know that I'm looking good
Just like a real girl should-
It's my first Christmas as a woman

A doctor reconstructed my genitals
And now I'm waiting underneath the mistletoe
for a guy who could love a girl like me.

I took the hormones and I got my breasts
This season's gonna be the best
to me.

I won't have to tuck it behind me
Since I got my brand new vagina
It's my first Christmas as a woman.

Chop if off! Chop if off! Chop if off!
My penis, chop it off
It's no use to me.
Cut it off!
Chop it off! Chop it off!
My penis, cut it off so I can finally be
A Woman...

Now I'm finally happy cuz I made my goal
to be a post operation transsexual.
now I'm a pretty lady

Now it feels like the very first time,
cuz it's going to be the very first time,
that Christmas feels right to me.

Cuz I know that I'm looking good
Just like a real girl should-
It's my first Christmas as a woman

Come back tomorrow for the last HUMP DAY PUMP UP before the holidays!

Wednesday, December 23, 2009


You know how when you go to a show, or you put on a cd, usually the first song you hear is gonna PUMP YOU UP the most?

It's awesome. It gets me so PUMPED UP.

This is going to be a collection of the most bad ass, PUMP UP intros ever.

Besides, let's face it, most of you don't watch the videos that I post anyway. So let's skip all the bullshit, and only pay attention to the best part - THE BAD ASS AWESOME INTRO.

It's hard to describe what makes a good intro, especially good enough for a HDPU, but it's the feeling that you get when you hear it - like you know things are about to get nuts.

Motherfuckers are about to go off.

Some of you may remember my good friends, Behemoth, from last week's HDPU. They're so awesome that they began the 2005 cd, "Demigod", with this song, "Sculpting the Throne ov Seth". Fuck yeah, they used "ov", instead of "of". Listen to the acoustic guitar intro, and when the guitars kick in, oh shit it's going down *******.

Little known fact about this album, but when the band was in the studio recording this song, it actually took them three (3) days. Three (3) days to record one song. Not because the music is so difficult, but because every time they'd get like 30 seconds into it, they'd be so PUMPED UP THAT THEY WOULD JUST DROP THEIR INSTRUMENTS AND START ABUSING THEIR WIVES AND GIRLFRIENDS FUCK YEAH.

This next little jam is short and sweet. Being less than 10 seconds, the intro comes and goes pretty quickly. If you're truly a PUSSY that's blind to the PUMP, then you'll probably miss it. I think most of the awesome found here comes from the fact that the song itself, PUMPS me up so much.

You'll notice the song is called, "To an End", by Strife. In the liner notes of the album, the band mentions the meaning of the song: "We just wanted to write a short, hard song about overcoming adversity or something, and instead we wound up inadvertently writing an anthem for the underPUMPED UP. In "To an End", we are referring to the end up being a pussy". Nice little tidbit of hardcore knowledge right there.

Up next, we got my boyz, Shipwreck AD, with "Squall". Listen to the first 40 seconds, and let that be the fuel for your own little personal rat race/inner turmoil. Lol, I typed that.

The double bass at 0:33 gets my blood PUMPIN'. Double PUMP! Being so PUMPED UP gets my blood PUMPED UP too! I love the first 30 seconds, but knowing what's about to happen at 0:33 really gets my goat. Check it out, you won't be sorry.

Well, unless you accidentally get so PUMPED UP that you pull a BRITTANY MURPHY or some shit.

Finally, what would be an "AWESOME INTROS"-themed HUMP DAY PUMP UP be without the next song? Shit. It would be shit.

Press play.

Don't think twice.

Because it's a live video, there is a little intro of the dude talking, but listen to the feedback - you know what's about to happen. The album version of the song had no intro, but that' doesn't matter because the beginning of the song is awesome. The middle of the song is awesome. The only shitty part is when it ends.


Tuesday, December 22, 2009

the stalker, part 2

Part 2 of "the stalker" now begins.

We left off at the office, where the creepy, weird dude from marketing overheard some of us jokingly mock his WARLOCKERY.

And like I said yesterday, this is where things get really f'ed up.

That very next Monday, I received a letter, at the office. It had no return address and was obviously written on a typewriter. Lol. The letter admitted to being from a friend of the creepy dude. We'll just call him the Warlock from now on. Mentioning many details of what went on that night at his house, it told me that I was out of line for mocking him, and that many bad curses would come my way.

It's worth noting that yeah, many bad things have happened since then: I moved to Florida, I bought a sweet car, I make a shitload of money, I have a hot fiance, I've gone on a bunch of vacations, my family and friends are awesome, and life is totally terrible. So yeah, I'm totally cursed.

Anyway, after reading that I would soon become cursed, I got to the next alarming paragraph. In order to avoid said curses, I would have to return the socks that the Warlock gave me for Christmas - get this - unwashed! Holy lol!

The letter specified that the socks be unwashed, and left on his porch.

What the fuck Warlock, I thought you were just gay, I didn't know you were a weird motherfucker too. Sniffin' some 24 year old dude's dirty socks is weird as hell.

Not surprisingly, I was kinda weirded out by this. Of course the letter told me not to tell anybody about what happened, so naturally I went to my manager, and after laughing about how weird this was, he told me to takeit to the owner of the company (I worked for a smaller company, and the owner was really nice).

First, I decided to take it to the post office, explain to them the alarming nature of the letter, and see if they could tell me where it was sent from, or any info they had. They couldn't.

"Holy shit that's fuckin' weird; do you still have the socks?" The owner asked after reading the letter.

After telling that me he'd talk with the Warlock, and that I shouldn't worry about it; he joking suggested that it would just be easier if I could just kick his ass. As I was walking out of his office, he stopped me, "just give him the fucking socks too", he said.

Laughing at the absurdity of this situation, I pointed down to my shoes, as I lifted up the cuffs of my trousers. "Ah, just fuckin' do it tomorrow; leave 'em on his desk, fuckin' weirdo", the owner chuckled.

Assuming the owner talked with him, I just ignored the Warlock, and the weird stuff stopped happening. I went on to leave the company in 5 months, and life continued.

But goddamn if that isn't weird as shit.

Monday, December 21, 2009

the stalker, part 1

No, not this "the stalker"

Now that that's cleared up, let's talk about the time I had a creepy stalker/weirdo situation at work.

It was at my previous job; I was selling copy machines. That sucked, but the story I'm about to unleash made it all worth it.

So this dude from marketing, kinda weird, gave a few people around the office Christmas gifts. I was among the lucky recipients. My gift was just a package of dress socks. Whatever, the dude was weird, but it was a nice gesture. I thought nothing of it.

A week later, he invited a couple of us over to his place to play some cards. Arriving there first, I made some awkward conversation until everybody arrived. Once people started showing up, it started getting a little less weirder. We played some poker and blackjack; and the dude got a little drunker. Finally he got pretty tore up and he started telling us how he was a "warlock", and can put curses on people.

Uh, ok dude.

Then he busted out the tarot cards, and starting doing that shit. By now we were kinda weirded out, well even more weirded out lol. He starts talking some gibberish about the tarot cards, and being a warlock, and then things got REALLY FUCKED UP.

He revealed that he was gay, and enjoys relations with men. I'm glad he clarified for me, because I didn't know that gay men enjoy relations with other men.

But that's not the f'ed up part. The f'ed up part was when he offered to do things to me that I usually pay chicks to do. Think about that. Yeah I'm serious.

After politely declining, I see my buddies getting kind of nervous for me, and giving me the head nod, like, "let's get the fo out of there".

I was totally cool with that.

So we ducked out, thanked him for having us over/being weird, and went home. Yeah, things were kind of weird, especially at the end there, but we all survived lol. Not many of the guests drank, as we all lived kinda far away, and we ain't wanna be drankin' and drivin' in Milwaukee. Walking to our cars, we chuckled about the stories we'll have to tell our buddies that weren't around, on Monday morning.

The next day at the office, we were talking about the festivities from weekend, and some of the dudes that couldn't make it were informed of how weird things got. Somehow, somebody - not me - was recounting the story, and right when he said the word "WARLOCK", the creepy dude walked by.

He had to have heard.

This is when things get EVEN MORE FUCKED UP.

Friday, December 18, 2009

getting beat at your own game

I hate to do this to alla y'all, expecially right before the holidayz comin' up real soon. I really do.

But the tr00f is, is that this is my blog, and I'll tell a goddamn story about one of the last times I used the work bathroom, earlier this week, if I want to.

Nothing too crazy here, just me slavin' away at my desk, doin' that 9-5 grind thang, ya herd. It's what, 10 o'clock in the muhfuggin' morning; and there it is.

The first pangs of a future urination.

That slight tingle all up 'n down mah urethra, man. Lol, at first I thought I was getting another boner, but nah, it's just ur boi needin' to tinkle.

Wait, ANOTHER BONER?!?!?!?

Another story for another time, folks.

Back to me at my desk, contemplating "should I go potty", or "should I make one more phone call". Ultimately the desire to drain my dong won out, and I found myself walking slowly to the bathroom.

If you recall, the closest bathroom has one (1) urinal, two (2) stalls, and two (2) sinks. Walking into the bathroom, a grin spreads across my face as it appears nobody is in there. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief, cause last time I was in here, some dude was silently suffocating himself with probably one of the worst smelling things ever, aside from my unbearably stinky coworker.

Anyway, I'm standing there, peeing like a champ, talking quietly to myself, when out of nowhere I get the shock of a lifetime -

I hear a man's sigh echoing out of the far stall.


This dumbass is in the stall, presumably taking a shit, and I couldn't even tell!

What the hell does he think he's doing?!?!?!

Who the hell does he think he is?!?!?!

Homeboy here is straight shittin' like a girl, dawg. When I'm crappin, you're gonna know the second you walk into the bathroom. In fact, it's not uncommon for me to announce to my department what I'm about to do. My bowel movements are like events. People need to know, they need to be prepared, and they need to be kept abreast of my gastrointestinalrectal happenings.

This asshole is in there, all secretive and shit, like he's ashamed. You sonofabitch, the only shameful thing about my shitting is, well besides the innocent lives of women & children that are lost, are all the skidmarks left behind. And I'm not even that ashamed.

Anyway, this dude need to learn what's up. We're gonna teach him a lesson, gonna beat him at his own game. So on command, I bust out the only thing I know how to bust out:

(listen past the first stupid burps, starts at about 0:15)

That pretty much sounded exactly like what I did. I swear I heard him jump a little bit, like he was startled. Hell, I even startled myself. But other than that, nothing. Not a peep out of him. Not even a congratulations, not a "wow", not even a chuckle.

Me on the other hand, I was holding in some of the meatiest, heartiest ROFLs this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Just imagine ROFLing all over. God, think about what ROFL means; now imagine doing that in a public bathroom lol.

Literally, it was all I could do not to erupt into a MONSTROUS, victorious laughter.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

attn: dickheads re: cruise control

In September, our office moved about 10 miles farther North up the road. This pretty much doubled my commute time.


So do the math - more time on the road = more time for me to get pissed off about assholes doing fucked up things. Especially in rural-ass Alachua County.

Let's talk about cruise control for a minute; and this applies not just to my daily commute to and from work, but to any highway driving. Do you know how cruise control works?

Do you know what the point of cruise control is?

Long story short, it keeps you at a constant speed. I don't need to sit here and tell you all how useful it is. But what pisses me off is when I'm cruising along, and some bitch is riding my ass, then she passes me, she hits a hill, and I blow right by her. Then the cycle repeats itself until I get to where I'm going.

Check this out, dipshit non-cruise control users: when you go up a hill, if you're on cruise control, your speed will remain constant; same thing principle applies when you go down a hill - your speed remains constant. If you're not on cruise control, you will slow down going up the hill, because your foot most likely won't compensate for the fact that you now happen to be ascending a hill. Ascending a hill, you bastard. Likewise, when you go down the hill, you will gather speed, as you coast.

Are you beginning to get it? Are you starting to see why you pass me, I pass you, you get impatient, you pass me, I pass you, you are an asshole, you pass me, etc.? Does this make sense?

Do you understand why, when you tailgate me, I press on my brakes repeatedly? Does that scare you at all when I flash my brake lights? What about when I tailgate you, when I flash my lights at you? Does that freak you out? Do you even notice?

There's only one solution here. I need to get a side mounted rocket launcher on my car. People need to start dying for this.

Speaking of cruise control, check this out:

Hey Penelope, this is the boner-causing police, and you are under arrest.

You are wanted for multiple crimes, including double mega boner inducing pics easily found on the internet, through google images.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009


Today's HUMP DAY PUMP UP is going to be multifaceted.

There's really no other way to put it.


Who cares if you don't like awesome bands! Who gives a shit if you don't like awesome music!

Not I, pussies. I'm just here to do my job, except between the hours of 8am - 5pm EST, Monday - Friday. During those hours I'm just here to push the limits of fucking around at the office.


Awesome song, right there.

Not sure if you noticed, but the band featured today is Behemoth. Sorry, I think I spelled that wrong; it should be BEHEMOTH.

All of these songs are from the album, "Demigod". Awesome, brutal album. I ordered this shit from Amazon back when it came out in 2005. At the time I was living with my Dad and Stepmom - it was awesome - but I ordered it online, and it came in the mail. I love getting mail. PUMP NUMBER 1 - EVERYBODY LOVES GETTING MAIL FUCK YEAH!

So I was waiting and waiting and waiting for this thing to come. Every day I would get home from work and ask if there was any mail for me.

And every day either my Dad or Stepmom would say "No/fuck you, twink". Finally, it was getting insane, the package should have arrived by now. Goddamn it, it's been like a week and a half, still no cd in the mail.

I remember it well: it was a Thursday, and heckyeahwoman was coming down for the weekend. I got home from work, and shortly after, she arrived. I would have immediately nagged about the cd, but I had to clean up quickly for her. Upon finishing up the light cleaning, I ask my Dad about the cd.

My Stepmom hears, and yells from the bedroom, "nothing came for you!". My Dad let's out a wheeze, and is choking back some chuckles, as evidenced from the spreading smile on his face. "What's so funny, Dad?", I ask. He can't lie to his son, as he tells me to look in the drawer by the cupboard.

Frantically running into the kitchen, what do I find?

It's the package I was waiting for! I wonder how long this package has been there! Did it come tonight? Yesterday? Last week? PUMP NUMBER 2a - FUCKING WITH THE AUTHOR OF HECK YEAH, MAN HAHA YOU BASTARDS!

Whatever, I hAve my cd, finally.

Of course, I ran to my room to bust this sucker out. And you know my parents were right behind me, eager to hear what the hell I was waiting on so furiously. After the acoustic intro of the first song begins my Dad mutters, "wow, this isn't so bad". Right at that second I change songs, and THIS COMES ON!

Shortly after, heckyeahwoman arrives, and after my parents telling her of the unfortunate hilarity earlier, she comes down to greet her master/boyfriend. Seeing that I'm engrossed in this awesome album, she picks up the cd and asks what I'm listening to, I tell her.

She replies, "oh, Bo-he-meth".

She corrects herself: "bee-hem-uth".

She corrects herself again, "buh-he-meth".

Not certain, she tries again, "BO-he-muth".

By this point she lolling as she mispronounces the name every which way, and tries to convince me it's BO-HE-METH. PUMP NUMBER 2b - FUCKING WITH THE AUTHOR OF HECK YEAH, MAN THAT AIN'T COOL SHAWTIE!

Whatever, check this out: have you ever tried to record vocals while taking a massive dump at work?

Cause that's what I think this would sound liMASSIVE PUMP NUMBER 3 - THE MOST BRUTAL VOCALS EVER YOUR FACE IS MELTED!

It's like, I don't care about nothin' man. No but for real -


I posted like 3 Behemoth videos, all from the album, "Demigod". The entirety of each video consists of the audio of the song, while the album cover remains a still image. You don't even have to listen to the awesome music to see this! But you do need to at least look at it, to get totally PUMPED UP today.

Dude, look at that dude. Go ahead. Pretend to be him. Wish you were him.

He's holding a sweet scepter, wearing an awesome mask, and he doesn't even have a shirt on. Also, he's making a really cool secret, ancient gesture with his hand.


Tuesday, December 15, 2009

garbageman cometh

I don't know if I already told this story, but even if I did, this time it comes with art. Sometimes, it's like, I'll be going through some rough drafts of posts, and be totally ready to schedule it to be posted; but then I realize it's missing a little something.

Nine times out of ten, that something is ART.

The other time, well, who gives a shit.

All ten of you have been reading my blog for probably over a year, so you know that quite a bit of the posts are about my experiences at the gym. Having been a member at Gainesville Gym for just over 4 years now, I've pretty much seen everything.

Well, everything that you can see at a gym.

Well, everything besides a clean bathroom.

Ok, and everything besides luxurious amenities.

One time I even saw some old dude have a stroke, and really hot EMT chick come in to cart him off on a stretcher. RIP, brother in iron.

But I don't care, I love that place. It's awesome, all the people are nice, I never have to wait for anything, the owners are awesome, and it's a great place to work out - if you're not a fucking shitdick pussy.

I signed up in like November 2005, for a year, so I could get the pay in full discount. I'll never forget the previous. fat-ass owner telling me 9 months into my PREPAID YEARLONG MEMBERSHIP, that I was past due, and I should probably pay him.

What a dick.

Must have been around that same time I saw this very tall & lanky dude start coming in. He would usually come in when it wasn't very busy, not dressed at all in athletic gear. I'm talking tight jeans, and ugly button down collar shirts. Damn, the dude must have been like 40 years old, and I think he was also mildly retarded.

I don't for sure know, because I've never said a word to him.

But he would come in, walk around all lanky-retard-like, and usually do a couple sets of curls. Then he'd disappear into the bathroom for a bit, and then POOF! - he was gone.

But the thing he always did, without fail, was: he'd walk by the garbage can, and use his foot to stomp down the garbage. Just one skinny leg, pushing down with all of it's might, pushing that garbage straight to hell.

And then when he was done, the satisfied look on his face was just priceless. So proud of what he had done.

But what exactly did he do?

Well, he stomped the garbage down a little bit, presumably prolonging whoever's job it was to take the garbage out, by maybe a day.

First time I saw this, I immediately thought, "holy shit, what the hell is that goofy bastard doing?"

Second time I saw, I thought, "holy crap that's weird".

I don't know, does anybody else think that's kind of weird?

Monday, December 14, 2009

nothing says i love you like a new car

I just saw a commercial for Hyundai cars, and I heard something about "are you making your list? are you checking it twice?"

I don't know about you, but I think I can, and yeah I'm going to go ahead and reasonably infer that they are marketing the idea of asking for a brand new Hyundai for Christmas. Of course, this is under the assumption that the giving of said Hyundai is a realistic expectation.

Now I don't know, but the people who can afford to give someone a FUCKING NEW CAR for Christmas, are most likely, not giving Hyundais. Nothing wrong with a Hyundai - I actually rented a Sonata one time, and it was really awesome. Unfortunately, it was too fuel efficient for my tastes, as I prefer a gas guzzler that is just hemorrhaging motor oil.

But that's just a personal preference.

But I think the people that are giving new cars as Xmas gifts, are giving sweet rides like Lexuses, Mercedes, and Beamers.

After seeing that commercial, it really got me thinking: I need to step up my gift-giving this year. And what better way to step it up, than with a HYUNDAI ELANTRA!


Heckyeahwoman, I love you so much that I bought you this BRAND NEW HYUNDAI ELANTRA!

Look at that thing! I wouldn't be surprised if those were 13 inch spinning rims.


Some of you may take offense to my perceived mocking of the fine Hyundai Elantra line of cars, but know this, the last time I mocked a lower cost car, it was at work. And little did I know, it was one of the managers I report to that drives a shitty Kia. Truth be told, that particular manager was THE BIGGEST RETARD EVER, and it was a GODDAMN INSULT TO HAVE TO ANSWER TO THAT WORTHLESS ANIMAL. So I didn't, I avoided her calls, and never got back to her.

Anyway, we were on a conference call with her, and a couple other reps; and I was mocking the entire brand of Kia cars. I think I was comparing one of our shitty competitors to them. Then this seahag pipes up how she drives a Kia. Shortly after, another loser pipes up about how he drives a Kia.

Most people would feel awkward in this situation.

Not me.

I felt pumped up cause I obviously let them know that I drive a BIG SWEET FUCKING RIDE AND MY CAR IS AWESOME.

Friday, December 11, 2009

having kids

About a month or two ago, I finally decided that I want to have kids. A lot of my friends have had kids, but not only did they have kids, they had sons. Everybody. I can't think of one friend that recently had a daughter.

I'm not sure if that's because all my friends really had sons, or because I don't want to be friends with people who recently had daughters.

No but seriously, seeing my friends, and their kids, it looks like it would be pretty awesome. My good friend, *** in Tampa, had a son, lol a ginger son, but still, it's a son. He's so pumped up to have the little guy, and rightfully so. Awesome little dude.

I kinda wanted him to have a daughter, so that I could try to have a son, and then how awesome would it be for my son to bang his daughter? The dude would never get over it lol. He could beat me in basketball, golf, beer pong, darts, whatever; I'd just be able to bust out the old, "my son screwed your daughter".

"Hey heckyeahman, what are you doing this weekenMY SON BLASTED YOUR DAUGHTER!"

At the bar, "can you grab me another beeMY SON DESTROYED YOUR DAUGHTER!"


Anyway, seeing all my friends, I think I might be the asshole that gets stuck with a daughter. That's totally a double edged sword.

If she's hot, I'll always worry about dudes trying to blast her. Pound her good, you know? I don't want to have to worry about that.

But on the flipside, what if she's ugly? I don't want an ugly kid. Who the fuck wants an ugly kid? I don't want that troll parading around, sullying my good (looking) name.

What if she's smart? I don't want some little broad second guessing me. I already have to deal with heckyeahwoman; SHE'S GOING TO BE A FUCKING DOCTOR. I'm a bachelor's degree shithead in sales. FML.

But I don't want no dumb daughter either. I don't want to have to go to parent teacher conferences, and listen to the teacher tell me what a retard my daughter is for 45 minutes straight.

And holy shit, don't even get me started on having a fat kid. NO GODDAMN KID I HAVE WILL EVER BE FUCKING FAT.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

heckyeahwoman's xmas party

I told you yesterday that a bunch of awesome stuff happened last year at heckyeahwoman's xmas party.

Holy shit I don't even know where to start.

The xmas parties are generally pretty rowdy, and go pretty late - till like midnight or maybe even one (1) in the morning lol.

So we drive over at whatever time, maybe like 9, with plans to just leave our car, and cab it back with another couple that lives close to us. It all started like a normal party: drinks, hors d'ouveres, and people chit-chatting. Jesus, it probably took a good hour or two of small talk before people started getting tore up, and the awesome stuff started happening.

By like midnight, our good friend is pretty loaded and he's getting sloppier'n shit. With his girlfriend and I trying to feed him water, he starts finally soberin-aw who the hell am I kidding, he's not sobering up at all, he's fucking hammered. So with a glass of water, I make my way over to give it to him. Seeing this, he reaches for the glass, and between my semi-drunken hand off to him, and well, it was totally my fault, the glass goes CRASHING TO THE FLOOR.

Water everywhere.

All of a sudden he lets out a drunken, gargantuan, "GREAT, NOW EVERYBODY'S GONNA THINK THAT I DID IT!!!!"

And just like that, the party stops. Time stops. Everything stands still. People are looking at us like we just killed a kitten or something. Thinking quickly, I announce to the whole party that it was my fault.

To this day, we still laugh about that.

It was a nice night, so a lot of people hung out on the porch where it wasn't too cold. That, and the keg was out there lol. The bathroom window overlooks the porch, but worry not, the blinds were closed. However, the window itself was open, so you can hear whats going on outside when taking a leak. Hell some people on the porch may have even heard me torch that poor little toilet on numerous occasions.

Taking a leak, I happen to hear a woman's voice making disparaging comments about me. Wait, that's heckyeahwoman. I don't remember exactly what she was talking about, but she had some choice words for ur boi. It makes you wonder what else is said when I'm not around.

After listening for about a minute, I make my presence known: "I CAN HEAR YOU!" I say through the open window. This was met with sudden silence, and then awkward laughter, from everyone out there on the porch.

A year later, this story has probably been told 10 times.

And now for the crown jewel of the night:

The party is winding down, and we're trying to wrangle a cab, so now it's just a waiting game - just hoping they decide to show up.

The cab finally comes, and I gather everybody together. Piling into the cab, it's heckyeahwoman in the front, and the other couple & myself in the backseat. I don't totally remember what happened, but I know there was some drunken squabbling, and all of a sudden heckyeahwoman chirps out a "FUCK YOU RICHBOY!"

Excuse me, fuck who? Rich what? Are you talking to me? Fuck you richboy?

I still don't know where that came from, but we all burst into outright laughter. It's insane how much we still talk about that, to this day.

I can't wait for Saturday night!

Wednesday, December 9, 2009


The other day at work I encountered a wise man. And by wise, I mean just the type of man that doesn't like to fuck around.

He had a little helpful advice for me: "Ace of Spades is such a bad ass song, you should do a HUMP DAY PUMP UP with that."

Before I can give an appropriate response, I had to appreciate the fact that he has enough respect for me that he didn't have to tell me what band does "Ace of Spades".


Sorry for the CAPS, I guess I got a little worked up. What an awesome song though. I remember one time I went to see Motorhead, and the other couple awesome bands that were opening.

One of the bands that was supposed to open, Skarhead, actually got kicked off the tour for stealing money lol. I was kinda bummed when I got there and saw they weren't playing. But suddenly I felt safer lol.

Check out the drummer wearing the skull mask. THAT'S BAD ASS AND IT PUMPS ME UP.

Also playing that show was Hatebreed, another bad ass band. Though their newer output is questionable, Satisfaction is the Death of Desire is 26 minutes of nonstop BADASSERY. There has been plenty of bedroom, bathroom, shower, car, and living room moshing to Hatebreed. One time, like a year ago, I was even floorpunching in my office.

Oh yeah, and I guess some moshing at shows too.

Dropkick Murphys also played that show, but after that last video, I don't really give a shit about anything else.

We've finally reached the halfway point in this wretched week. Somehow, you've managed to survive the first couple days, and somehow, you're going to manage to survive the next couple days. If you don't survive, and somehow die or something, sorry. But for those of us that will live, GET PUMPED UP.

You just saw 3 BAD ASS VIDEOS that were created to PUMP YOU UP, and what's more? I've got heckyeahwoman's department xmas party on Saturday night. Just thinking about all the awesome stuff that happened last year, PUMPS ME UP.

I think maybe tomorrow or Friday, I'll make a post about some of the insane crap that went down lol. Till then, GET PUMPED UP YOU FUCKING PUSSIES.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

sorry, i gotta weigh in on tiger woods

Not sure if you know what's going on with this, but I guess Tiger Woods has been cheating on his wife with a bunch of like waitresses, aspiring actresses, and bartenders.

Just so we're all on the same page here, this is what his wife looks like:

Most people are crying about "holy shit his wife is so hot, how could he cheat on her?!?!?!"

No shit she's hot as balls, and you'd probably ptf her. But look at the other chicks he's banged.

All of them are hot as balls too. And you'd probably ptf each one of them as well.

Of course, the next thing on most peoples' minds is the settlement. What if they get a divorce, and he has to pay her a shitload of money?

Well I would hope he had a prenup to protect his assets. And if he didn't, what would happen?

He's worth about $500 million, just from a quick google search.

With that in mind, what's the worst that could happen? Could we assume he may have to give up half of everything he has? I think that's reasonable.

So he's left with $250 million and whatever else he's going to make in the future. Hint: I think it's going to be shit-ton. He'll be fine.

Oh it could get worse - he has to give her three quarters of everything. Do you know what three quarters of $500 million is? I don't have my calculator with me, but I can take a rough estimate:


But what about their kid? Who cares, he has enough money to stick that little shit in day care, or else he can let her have it.

Who came out ahead here?

Tiger woods.


And most importantly, he won't have his kid hanging around, cockblocking the shit out of him.

Tiger Woods, this Bud's for you.

Monday, December 7, 2009

thank you obama!

Thank you for more of the same, and consequently, the dramatic decrease in retarded facebook posts that blindly suck your dick!

Jesus Christ, I remember in the months leading up to the election, and the months following, all the bullshit on facebook that I had to see. Easily some of the most severe nuthugging I've ever seen.

I read shit about a whole new America (lol!), undoing Bush's rampant shitdickery (lol!), and Christ, I think I even read some shit about Obama winning the Heisman trophy this year.

Though now it seems that things have chilled out a little bit. This of course is due probably to his blossoming George Bushian presidency. Is it worth it?

Fuck yeah it's worth it!

I'd rather see this country go to shit, than have to deal with anymore bullshit facebook posts about change (lol!) we can believe in.

Ok we get it, it was a giant hype machine, and now that we can see through the smoke and mirrors, we're left with a lot more style, than we are left with substance.

Speaking of substance, this past Saturday, I happened to partake in a little substance abuse. Our good friends ***** & ****** we're nice enough to invite a couple of us over to their apartment to watch the game. Needless to say, as the game went on, the substance abuse got worse and worse. It's a good thing we live in the SAME APARTMENT COMPLEX, and they're just across the parking lot lol.

But seriously, worse than any of the boozing that happened last night was watching the falling of a hero. Tim Tebowner played like Tim Tebow, and the game sucked.

He also cried like a little bitch on the sideline. Don't believe? Check this out:

I don't know if you can tell, but yeah, those are tears.

I used to like Tebow; and I thought he was a pretty awesome guy. Yeah, even with all that Jesus bullshit. But this crying bullshit is worse than any Jesus bullshit.

Here, watch that fruitloop cry a little more, even in the presence of a hot chick. I wonder if he cried himself all the way into her pants for a sympathy boning.

This video begs the question: just when is it ok for a man to cry?

At a football game? Lol no. When your parents die? Yeah that's fine. What about when your first child is born? I guess that's cool, but no more than three (3) tears, pussyboy. It's always ok to laugh so hard you cry. And I guess if you're in the middle of laying down the most epic shredding awesome guitar solo ever, and heckyeahwoman comes in and interrupts you to let you know that dinner is ready, and your awesome solo just got fucked up, then yeah, it's ok to cry like a bitch.

Anyway, go Gators! in the Sugar Bowl, or Orange bowl, or whatever. I don't know, I always thought it would be cool if the Gators played in the Gator Bowl.

Friday, December 4, 2009

want ad

Does anybody want a free, bald, dead ferret?

It is time for our beloved Scab to move to a different home. Our lifestyle has recently become incompatible with pets at this time. By constantly shitting on the floor, and taking up space, she has become absolutely useless, and ultimately, worthless.

But she's really goddamn cute.

The final straw came when she laid a frothy, foamy diarrhea mess on the carpet. I immediately started up the lawnmower, flipped it on its' side, and threw that goddamn ferret right in the fucking grinder.

But she was really goddamn cute.

There is no cost, she's totally free - I will provide some food, a litterbox, a small cage, and a little bit of bedding. She's just looking for a good home, where she'll be loved for who she is.

Here's what's left of her, kind of hard to tell, but there's some chunks of fur and skin in there somewhere. I'll even clean up the lawnmower, and throw that in too!

Please send any inquiries to, thank you for your interest!

Thursday, December 3, 2009

my family was very accepting

Heckyeahwoman made me watch some wedding show on TLC. It was some crap about these broads looking for the perfect dress. I can't imagine anybody giving a shit about this show. Anyway, they follow a couple slores as they make appointments at this bridal shop.

I think the name of the show is "Say Yes to The Dress", but say no to the bitch wearing it.

It seems like it's just one bridal store, cause it seems to feature the same couple employees. One of the bitches that works there is just that, a fucking bitch. The other dude they always have on there is a cranky little boy that looks like death warmed over. Rat-lookin' motherfucker.

Anyway, they show the chicks picking out, trying on, and fawning over all the dresses; but usually they talk a little bit about the couple, how they met, and some other random bullshit.

That's when it happened.

The subject of this post, "my family was very accepting" - those were the very words uttered by an Indian lady (dot, not American), who was talking about her family accepting her American/white fiance.

Surprisingly, they didn't show the groom talking about how "accepting" his family is, of his Indian bride.

Like the bride's family is bending over backwards, or something, by accepting the groom, just because he's not Indian.

I just can't imagine that flying if it were the other way around:

"I'm just so happy that my family is very accepting of me marrying somebody who isn't white".

That shit wouldn't fly.


This shit was on cable too. That means that however many people that watched the show, just saw that it is OK to discriminate against white people. Shit like that belongs on BET, or written about somewhere in The Root.

The funny thing is, here I am, crying about racism, when I've had multiple people tell me that I'm the most racist person they know. Of course, those people were bullshit liberals who have no idea what racism is, but still.

Because of what happened on that show, I'm going to change my life. That's right, it will now be my goal to discriminate against everybody I can. I'm even going to discriminate against animals.

I'm going to go back to school and get an MBA, so I can become some sort of manager where I hire people. Lol, watch me wind up as a shift manager at Hardee's. WHATEVER AT LEAST I'LL BE ABLE TO HIRE PEOPLE. Then, when I bring people in for interviews, it's going to be awesome.

Sexism, Ageism, Racism, Specieism, everything. I'm going to be so goddamn prejudiced, my head is going to explode.

I can't wait. After becoming some bigwig manager at some huge corporation, at some point, I'm going to need a receptionist. After bringing in multiple people, and putting them through rigorous interviews; I'm going to call each of them back, and tell them they start on Monday. And then when they all show up, they're going to walk into the building and get greeted by my brand new HORSE RECEPTIONIST.



Wednesday, December 2, 2009


The holiday season is upon us! We just wrapped up Thanksgiving, and we're looking forward to Christmas. Well, I'm not looking forward to Christmas so much as I'm looking forward to being off work, having fun, and not working.

The holidays put some people in a pissy mood - I guess because of stress or something. Yet other people, like me, remain in a constant state of being PUMPED UP, despite the trials and tribulations the holiday season can bring. Either way, this HUMP DAY PUMP UP is going to deliver material that's going to put you in a good goddamn mood.

We're gonna start with some awesome vids of ANIMALS this week. How about a couple sweet videos of ferrets?

Yeah, how 'bout it.

Check out this retarded video of this ferret singing some stupid song. Straight trippin' ballz man.

I don't know if you remember this commercial at all or not, cause I had no idea it existed. But I came across this little beauty on youtube, and holy lol.

Not totally ready to face the rigors of CHRISTMAS?


Holy shit I need one of those!

You know what else I need?

A bottle of whiskey, a kilo of coke, a bag of heroine, a little weed, a couple beers, some hookers, a really fast sports car, steroids, homeless people, and just a few quaaludes.

Cause that's the kind of mood the next couple songs put me in.

Listen to this shit, get fucked up, and literally inhale the rest of the week like a mile long line of only the finest Colombian-grade blow.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

i'm a college student

And money's tight. I try to save money whenever I can.

That's why I bought a Ford Escape Hybrid. The money I save on gas, because I don't have to worry about working part time, lets me really focus on what I'm here to do: tend to my studies.

I'm really interested in going green, that's why I bought a hybrid. I love that it's better for the environment. Also, when it's nice out, I ride my bike to school; and when the weather is crappy, I take the bus. I'm a huge believer in public transportation.

It's great, really the only times I need to drive are the few times a week I run errands, like when I go grocery shopping. I also drive back home a couple times a semester for the holidays. So drastically cutting back on how many miles I drive every year, really makes me feel good about my contribution to helping the environment. It's great very rarely having to drive anywhere!

It think my total yearly mileage is right around 4,000! Getting like 35 mpg is so much better than the Honda Civics I looked at; they got like 30 mpg. Even though they were like $15,000 less, I think I made the right decision. And besides, when I tell people I drive a hybrid, idiots are really impressed!

I'm really happy about purchasing a brand new $31,000 Ford Escape Hybrid, and being able to save so much in gas every year.

Monday, November 30, 2009

thanksgiving wrap up

Hey, I hope everybody had a great holiday! I know I did! I ate a shitload, got tore up, went on some nice bike rides, bought some crap, got my pants hemmed, tailgated furiously, and didn't work.

Wait, I got my pants hemmed!?!?!? YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT I GOT MY PANTS HEMMED, but we'll get to that.

But first, let's talk about Thanksgiving. Every year, since we moved down here, we'd go to Heckyeahwoman's advisor's house. His wife is a caterer and she always made the most delicious food; and they were always so hospitable and awesome. Well, they moved, and lucky for us, our good friends ***** & **** were nice enough to extend an invite to us. So we celebrated pot-luck style with a bunch of friends from Heckyeahwoman's department.

Sure enough, all the food was awesome. Well except for the bread, whoever brought that really chinsed out and got the shitty stuff. Haha just kidding, ****, the bread was awesome! But back to the goods.

A lot of times when we go to hang out with her fellow graduate students, I tell her I'm going to do something stupid. I don't usually do it, but this one time I told her I was going to punctuate everything I say with "dudebro", the whole night. Well, that time I actually did it, and she was so pissed lol.

So this time I told her I was going to punctuate everything I say with "I'm leaving"; "or I'll leave"; "otherwise I'll leave". That, or some variant of it. Initially she was pissed, but then after going through a couple examples, we both thought it would be pretty funny.

Could you please pass the stuffing? Or I'll leave.
Is there any rum punch left? Otherwise I'll leave.
Hey, good to see you, thanks for having us over! I'm leaving.

I don't know, maybe you had to be there, it was pretty funny, I swear.

OK, so yeah, I got my jeans hemmed. Let me paint a picture for you. No, not in MS Paint, but with words. Right here, in this special holiday blog post.

The day: Black Friday.

The time: about 2 pm.

The weather: A little chilly, but who cares.

I decided to brave the crowds and head out to the mall - not to necessarily shop a lot, but rather to go to the tailor there. You see, I bought a pair of jeans a year ago, and finally decided that they were just too long. lol, long in the pants. Having finally decided to get the alterations done, I found a tailor at the mall.

They were great, they could do it while I farted around at the mall for an hour.

So while I'm trying on the jeans for the lady to measure them, I hear some loudmouth box come in, talking real loud, cursing, and being a twat. This bitch is getting some alterations on some gaudy ass dress sweater thing, and she's pointing out where she wants what done, and how she marked it here and did this there.

You fucking bitch, why didn't you just do it yourself, then?

Then it's time for her to pay.

All I hear is the cashier say she "can't give change for that". Now talking louder than ever before, she announced to the store, and probably most of the mall, that she "ONLY CARRIES HUNDREDS".

As I'm emerging from the changing room, I recognize an opportunity for lols so I ask her, "do you only carry hundreds?"

And without even thinking, she offers ups a confident, "YEAH, I ONLY CARRY HUNDREDS".

There's some douchebag dude just hanging around, and he offers to give her change for her hundy. Of course he let everybody know that he too, "usually only carries hundreds". Dude, you have a shitty chinstrap beard, do you even know what a hundred dollar bill looks like?

You think you only carry hundreds, kid? Well I rock ice, son.

In fact, I don't think either of them know what a hundred dollar bill looks like. The broad had just really ugly, horrible clothes on, and looked like a manly, shitheaded woman. God I hate her.

I wound up going back there an hour later to get my jeans, and they look great! A much more appropriate jeans length, for sure.

On Saturday, we tailgated so furiously that we started partying at like 11 am. That carried on all day, and into the evening. At one point during the tailgate, some asshole (me) started blasting Cannibal Corpse on my boombox. I thought that was a great follow up to my albums from Kelly Clarkson & Maroon 5. This was the 2nd straight week of tailgating, 2nd straight Saturday night of passing out before 10pm lol. I'm getting old.

Speaking of blasting Cannibal Corpse, I blasted 2 mad dukes during the course of the day. It was brutal.

Anyway, I hope everybody had an awesome and safe holiday (though if you didn't have a safe holiday, I can assume that it wouldn't have been awesome either; and you'd probably not able to read this, as you'd most likely be dead or something) and check back tomorrow for "i'm in college". Should be a good'en.

Friday, November 27, 2009

happy black friday!



or some other retarded crap

Wednesday, November 25, 2009


Last week's HDPU was largely inspired by my friend's valiant attempt at supplying me with great HUMP DAY PUMP UP material. Because he's awesome, and concerned with getting you PUMPED UP; and I'd only surround myself with friends that want to PUMP PEOPLE UP, he admitted that he dropped the ball, and wanted to make amends.

So he did just that, by sending me a facebook message with the following:

"So since I dropped the HDPU ball this week I want to redeem myself. Now feel free to shoot this down, but if watching Rocky Marciano knock dudes out while Metallica is playing doesn't get you pumped......well there's no way it couldn't."

Not just talking the talk, homeboy is walking the walk; he included a 100% CERTIFIABLY BAD ASS VIDEO:

I don't even like Metallica that much, but I guess my friend does, and that PUMPS ME UP.


It's just like 5 minutes of this dude knocking motherfuckers around like woah.

Thank you, dude who has the same name as me, for hooking us up with this ridiculously awesome HUMP DAY PUMP UP video.

On with the pump friends, you want a little ARGENTINIAN HARDCORE to GET YOU MOVIN'?


The name of this song couldn't be more appropriate; translated into "the time is now (motherfuckers)", they are obviously referring to the best time for YOU TO GET PUMPED UP. Ok, I added the "motherfuckers" part, sorry.

Here they are again, letting you know that "the family never dies". Kinda cheesy upon first read, but think about it for a second. If "the time is now" to get PUMPED UP, and if your family is PUMPED UP, then yeah, "the family never dies".

Now for the biggest PUMP UP that we'll have for the next couple weeks: I have off on Thursday and Friday, this week.

Read that again.

Yeah, I only have a 3 day week of work this week! HOLY CRAP, MY BOWELS ALMOST MOVED JUST THINKING ABOUT TYPING THAT. True story here, but my bowels are gonna actually move as I type up this sentence about how much food I'm going to eat, with the end result being - yep, my bowels actually moving.

I'm not talking like lumbering, glacial movement either. Nah, that ain't me. I'm talking about violent, projectile bowel movement. Fast, sharp, and with intent to injure, yeah that's how I do it son.

GET PUMPED FOR THANKSGIVING EVERYBODY! Eating, shopping, drinking, familial gathering, trying to stab your friend because he just broke your umbrella, getting loaded at other peoples' houses, man I love the start of the holiday season!

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

what is sacrafice?


Ok, you already know I was at the gym. That's a given. In fact, any time you read this blog, you can probably automatically assume that any given blog post probably takes place at either the gym, the office, or in a bathroom somewhere.

Alright, I'm pounding it out on the (s)exercise bike, watching the dude who works the front desk there screw around on the interent, watching youtube videos.

Having my attention divided between the one TV they have on there, and dude's youtube videos, I notice he's now watching some old ass workout video. It's pretty old school, with shots of huge dudes pressing, squatting, and pushing their way to glory.

Spandex, rippling muscles, and grunting are all things that I saw in this sweet video.

Then the insane pumping of iron comes to a screeching HALT.

The screen goes black, and a word comes across the screen. Not just any word. Not "DISCIPLINE", not "STRENGTH", not "TRIAL BY FIRE", and no, not even "EXPLODING BICEPS".

It was a simple, yet bold "SACRAFICE".

Ah yes, "SACRAFICE", the main ingredient for getting ripped. Not training hard, not proper nutrition, not getting enough sleep, not eating 400 times your weight in grams of protein daily, not any of that mythical bullshit. Just, SACRAFICE.

Back to the video, now we're back to probably one of the sweetest video montages I've ever seen.


It's like a nonstop barrage of pictures of just the most jacked men and women at the peak of their PUMP.

Seriously, like a full minute of this, and I'm pedaling so furiously that THIS FUCKING EXERCISE BIKE IS ABOUT TO START ON FIRE. MY QUADS ARE SET TO EXPLODE.



I may or may not have had a boner.

Dude, I wasn't even paying attention to the video, but then all of a sudden my attention is diverted right back to it again. Lucky for me, and us, I looked at just the right time:

The sweet photo montage was just coming to an end as the screen goes black again. This is immediately followed by the posing of a question:


At this point I just lost it, I was so jacked from the mere utterance of that simple question, that my entire body just exploded and I died immediately right there on the exercise bike. It was totally insane.

I know this could have, and maybe should have been a HUMP DAY PUMP UP, but it honestly couldn't wait until Wednesday. So, uh, check us out tomorrow for HUMP DAY PUMP UP: REDEMPTION.