Friday, February 26, 2010

rough day

sleeping through the alarm, getting up late, trying to eat breakfast but the milk for your cereal was bad, but you already poured it all over your cereal, and you had another milk in the fridge cause you knew this one was about to sour, but you don' t have any more cereal, and you already poured the sour milk all over it, finally just saying fuck it, and going to the bathroom to take a dump and then a shower, but clogging the toilet and the air conditioning isn't working so you're sweating your ass off trying to unclog the fucking thing, then finally jumping in the shower but the hot water is all gone, trying to rinse off shampoo in freezing fucking water, whatever, finally getting dressed but as you're zipping up your fly on your dress pants, you catch your wiener in it, getting a little blood on your khaki colored pants, but not having any clean/ironed pants to wear you go to work looking like an asshole, but then you look even more like an asshole when you show up to the meeting late, and everybody thinks you're a retard, then your boss calls you in to her office to talk about one of your accounts, and how they want to cancel their contract with you, and finally the frustration has reached its peak and you explain that it's not your fault, that if the STUPID FUCKING CUSTOMER WASN'T SUCH A FUCKING BITCH, there wouldn't be a FUCKING PROBLEM, then getting fired, and realizing it's only 8:45 AM, and there's a whole lot of the day left for you to fuck up, and based on what everybody else tells you, you're gonna fuck it up UNAPPREESH.

i feel so free.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

my first day at work, after training

Wow, after yesterday's HUMP DAY PUMP UP, it's hard for me to type this (Wednesday night), as I'm literally shaking with THE PUMP/rage/holding in a massive shit. Speaking of holding in a massive shit, we last left off with my eliminating on my first day of my first real job.

What a doozy.

Training lasted about 2 weeks. A long, brutal 2 weeks. It was basically me either riding around with my manager and some other reps calling on prospects, or me sitting in the conference room learning every thing there is to know about copy machines. So basically a lose-lose lol.

Finally that day would come when my immediate sales manager was ready to cut me free, and let me go out by myself.

Fortunately for me, that day came a little sooner than expected, as one of the other reps kept fucking around, so the manager had to spend more time with him. This left me with my first opportunity to cold call. By myself.

For those of you blessed not to be in sales, and don't know what cold calling is, it's one of the most degrading parts of the job. Essentially, you're walking into a business, asking for the boss (or whoever has the authority to spend a little money), and then trying to sell them something.

Most people call that soliciting; and it's generally frowned upon. In 2010, I have no idea why people are still doing it. Whatever, it was 2004, Fall 2004, to be exact.

Which brings us to my first day by myself. It was a beautiful fall day, and I was PUMPED to get out of the office for a bit that afternoon - even if it meant spending a couple hours in hell. After gathering all my crap, and getting into my car, I headed into battle/my territory. The thing is, I had 2 sections of territory: one West of Milwaukee, in Brookfield; the other, downtown Milwaukee, in the ghetto. Obviously it was a bit of a hike for me to get to where I needed to be, from the office.

I felt totally fine, had a nice, healthy little lunch, when all of a sudden I realize my car was just about on E! Not the channel, but the gas tank. Oh shit!

Without a second thought, I swerved into the first gas station I saw, and began filling up.

Then it hits me - I need to shit. I need to shit bad.

Really fukken' bad.

What do I do? My tank's only about halfway done filling up, I don't want to just leave my car here while I blast dukes for 35 minutes. Goddammit, I clenched my cheeks for another brutal 2 minutes while the tank filled up.

Sprinting like that Usain Bolt dude into the men's bathoom, I barely got my suit coat off, and pants down, before my ass exploded all over the inside of that porcelain bowl, like a veiny weiner all over a porn star's fake tits.

I was so caught up in that euphoric lava expulsion that I didn't even notice how MASSIVE this one-person bathroom was. This shitty Shell gas station bathroom was huge! Fit for a king!

A good 45 minutes later, I arrive at the office building complex to begin. Not long after arriving there did I need to shit again. Fuck it, I fought it off for 10 minutes, made a couple calls, but then it couldn't be held off. The oncoming rush was too much to fight.

I had to shit again. Holy fuck I really thought that if anything came out, it was gonna be my guts. Totally didn't think I had anything left in me. Sure enough, the mess in the toilet told me otherwise. And the grumbling in my belly told me there was more.

It was gonna be a long day.

Sure as shit, it was a long day: cold call, shit, wipe, chill, cold call, shit, wipe, chill, with a bunch of hand washing thrown in there.

Swamp ass 2 the maxx.

Goddamn, after a couple hours, I'd had enough. So with my tail between my legs, I head back to the office ready to report my afternoon activities to my manager. Somehow, through all that shitting, all that wiping, I managed to get one good prospect. I guess it was worth it.

After those first couple weeks at that job, my bowels finally got used to the early mornings, the 126 ounce Kwik-Trip coffees, the daily self-hating on the drive in, and the late work nights. For as much as I hated that job, it wasn't that bad really. I worked with some really great guys, which made for an easier transition into the real world.

Strange though, my fondest memories are of me lighting up the toilet. That, and the many times I would smell alcohol on a couple of the guys' breath before 11 am. And the time we got loaded at the office. Then there was the time the GM of the company practically force fed me booze one lunch. Then there was the time one of the guys got loaded and tried to pick up the Hooter's waitress, like 25 years younger than him. I'll never forget the time a couple of us went to a Brewer game, and we asked our manager if he wanted to go, and he was nice enough to drive. Poor guy wound up having 5 drunk sales reps crammed into his car with one of them trying to pee out the window.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

HUMP DAY PUMP UP: heckyeah woman was singing along

So check this out, Heckyeahwoman and I had to run to the mall to do a little shopping. Figuring she wasn't gonna want to go, I was totally PUMPED to listen to my Blood for Blood - "Revenge on Society" compact disc. Very loud. Damn though, such an awesome album.

Only pussies listen to it and don't get PUMPED UP.

So anyway, she wound up coming along, and I brought my Blood for Blood album, much to her initial chagrin. That chagrin eventually turned into a grin, as we find out later.

Since I know you're not gonna listen to the entire video, if even at all, at least check out the intro where he asks, "why don't you go listen to REO Speedwagon, or wear Dockers like you're supposed to?" Gets me pumped up errytime I see some yuppie shithead that needs to get mashed.

And then this song comes on, and dude, it's so catchy and awesome, that motherfuckers mash themselves to avoid getting mashed much harder, by me. And that is definite HUMP DAY PUMP UP material.

Similar to the last vid I posted, this one has another awesome intro. This time it's featuring the classic line: "I'll beat the college out of you, you FUCKING YUPPIE!" True story, I've actually had to say that to some twink at the bar. Doing awesome things to dipshits PUMP!

Watch and listen, vag-haters.

And the best part of the night came on the way home - after eating dinner, we stopped at the liquor store. Liquor store PUMP right there! There weren't any parking spots, so she pulled into the handicap one lol. Inadvertent discrimination PUMP! I just ran in so she could take a different spot once it became available. Me buying the booze UNPUMP lol!

Whatevz, she apparently liked the above song, cause when I got back into the car, guess who was singing the chorus! Yep, Heckyeahwoman was! MAJOR BONUS DOUBLE BONER PUMP!

Wound up having a nice little night there. Yeah, we got some booze, got home, played some Skip Bo, and started watching Public Enemies, with Johnny Depp. We weren't watching a movie with Johnny Depp; we were watching a movie with Johnny Depp in it. Well, we were watching it until she fell asleep on the couch lol.

This perfectly illustrates my point: these songs PUMP YOU UP SO MUCH, that you can't help but reach the PEAK OF YOUR PUMP, and then crash. Further proof that GETTING THIS PUMPED UP isn't for novices. It truly takes an experienced PUMP-HAVER to manage their PUMP effectively. Don't worry, Heckyeahwoman, we'll work on this. Before long, you'll be not only reaching, but maintaining PEAK PUMP LEVELS for hours, days, weeks at a time.

Remember, this isn't just for Heckyeahwoman, this is for all the UNPUMPED that are out there. Now you have hope, a PUMPED UP friend; and more than anything, you have the support you need to get PUMPED UP.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

my first day at a real job

Oh god, this should be a good one. 'Specially for alla y'all 9-5ers. Let's go back a couple years to when I graduated college. It was May 04, and I was fuggin' done, man. I had to say goodbye to my friends, nonstop partying, continually disappointing my parents with substandard grades, eventual liver failure, and living on my own.

But then again, I was done with college! I would soon learn that my apathy towards my major would leave me with nothing more than a shitty piece of paper from the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire, and a disappointing career path in...sales lol. But whatever, I had a degree, I was better than you.

It wasn't all bad, I moved in with my dad & stepmom in the Milwaukee area, and got started looking for a job in Milwaukee. Living with them was awesome. Turning down shitty sales job after shitty sales job wasn't. Whatever, I would take any interview I could get, just to practice interviewing. I don't know, but I enjoyed interviewing. I obviously wasn't working, and my dad would go in pretty early, and get done a little earlier, so that when he was getting home, I was just getting up lol. It was great, we'd hang out and drive my stepmom nuts.

After a month of no reasonable offers, I was getting broke, so I got a job waiting tables at the Applebee's in the hood. Fuck, I just graduated college, and I'm waiting tables again. GODFUCKINGDAMMIT. Eh, the customers were unacceptable pieces of subhuman shit, but I worked with some awesome people. Even the ghetto ass bartender who told me she would, "fuck you up, whiteboy", was a blast. She was kind of hot too, but when she had parties at her place in the shitty part of the city, and she'd invite me to come over, I always had to decline. I like living.

Anyway, must've been October, I finally got a job offer that - out of desperation/hating waiting tables - I took. It was selling copiers lol. I actually worked through a recruiter who got me hooked up. When I got the job offer from the company, I called the recruiter to tell him, and to thank him. After letting him know I would put my 2 weeks in at Applebee's, and start that job accordingly, he got kind of bitchy. He had the nerve to tell me that if I had to wait 2 weeks, the job might not be waiting there for me.

Seriously, you little shit?

After asking him if he was serious, he said he was, so I let him know that uh, "that was a chance I could take"; and that if this job selling copiers was suddenly filled, I'd survive. His thing was, would Applebee's hesitate to fuck me, if it was convenient for them? I agreed, but that doesn't mean that I would do that. What a dick.

Without incident, my first day showed up. Holy fuck I had to get up early for my 45 minute drive in. I showed up early, and learned that every Monday they have a 2-3 hour meeting from 8am, to as late as 11. Ok that's cool, nothing too crazy right away.

But then it started.

The gurgling in the belly. The rumbling of the bowels. This huge 84 ounce Kwik-Trip coffee isn't helping anything.

It was like 9:00, and I had to take the most nervous diarrhea shit ever. I had to take my suit-coat off cause I was sweating so bad. Goddamn I swear everybody could hear my stomach FREAKING THE FUCK OUT.

Will this shit ever end? And when it does, will I be able to sneak out for 20 mins?

And then, FUCK, the General Manager finishes up his budget presentation, and announces that his plan was to have Rich lead the sales force through an hour of sales training. WHAT MOTHERFUCKER, ANOTHER HOUR? I'm gonna fucking pop.

I almost started crying. 22 years old, and near the point of tears while wearing a suit and tie, in a business meeting.

But then the angels sang; and they sang through that General Manager, as he announced that since Rich wasn't there, we should plan on the sales training next Monday. Meeting adjourned.

I breathed a sigh of relief as everybody else took note that we'd have the training next week. But shit, can I get a couple minutes to hit the can?

By the grace of science, my manager whispered to me that he had to take care of a couple things, and he'd get with me in about a half hour. As he gave me a couple stacks of paper to read, everybody filed out of the conference room.

By this time, the sweating had chilled out a little bit, cause I knew I was about to eliminate. Never ran so fast before as I did right to the turlet.

I still wonder if anybody heard that cacophony of various bowel excrements while I unleashed.

After about 10 straight minutes of projectile liquid shitting, another 10 minutes of sloppy wiping, and 2 minutes to catch my breath/stop sweating, I was done.


Wound up being a not-so-bad first day of work. Well, as not-so-bad as it can be, considering the atrocities I committed.

Coming up AFTER tomorrow's HUMP DAY PUMP UP: my first day of work, after training.

Monday, February 22, 2010

bush 04 / obama 08

You see the graphics above.

What do they mean? What do they represent?

Let me clue you in: each graphic represents a president (-ial candidate) that is supposedly on the opposite end of the political spectrum, from the other.

In this here blogpost here right here, each graphic represents a bumper sticker.

On a car - the same car.

No lie, 2 different bumper stickers, 1 car. A dirty, white, little Toyota Corolla. I would guess late 90's to early 00's. Not too old, but not in the best shape either. The car was a little rusty, which I found odd, as we live in Florida and it really isn't normal to put salt on the roads, to take care of any ice. And we're not really that close to the coast where we'd catch the salt-water ocean breeze.

Pulling up behind the car at a stoplight, heading South on 441, I noticed this neat little paradox crookedly & dually placed on this shithead's bumper. Unfortunately, I didn't get a glance at what the driver looked like. As the light turned green, I swerved to the right, and blew by too fast to make out the gender, or any other defining characteristics, other than "probably human".

Another potential paradox worth mentioning, that has absolutely nothing to do with today's post: chicken marinara alfredo. The prospect of an alfredo marinara, or a marinara alfredo has my mouth watering. Sadly, as this relates to a delicious, succulent, tender piece of chicken, I believe that both alfredo & marinara are mutually exclusive - outside of just dumping a little bit of both canned sauces on top of said piece of chicken.

OK, I'm rambling.

Back to the car.

The presence of both a Republican, and a Democrat, bumper sticker tell me that this car probably had different owners. Also, the rust clues me into the fact that this car has spent some time out of Gainesville - either up north, or on the coast somewhere. It is totally plausible that the first owner lived in one of the two places, and had the G-Dubya sticker on there already. Do I need to mention the potential impossibility of the Obama sticker being on the car before the Bush sticker? Didn't think so lol.

No doubt, the car lived a hard, salty, neoconservative life, but for whatever reason the owner decided to get rid of his or her trusty little riceburner. Wait, did I just say riceburner? I thought all Republicans were racist and only bought American! Hey, previous owner, if you're reading this, you're not being a very good Republican! Or maybe you didn't know that Toyota Corollas aren't made by Ford.

Whatever, so the previous owner sold the car, to presumably whoever put the Obama sticker on there. Makes sense, right? But why would an Obama supporter drive a car around with a Bush sticker on there? I thought all Obamaniacs fervently hated G-Dubya (lol @ losers counting down the days on facebook). I could see the new owner not caring at the time of purchase, only to hatefully scrub that sign of the devil away upon arriving home. Maybe this is the driver's way of supporting Bush's third term.

Or more likely, the car was a hand-me-down from a parent, or older sibling, to a fresh driver's ed graduate, who as they say, "just ain't give a fuck". Who knows.

I don't know if the driver was from Gainesville, or if she was just passing through. Totally wish I would have snagged a pic though. Local readers, keep your eyeballs peeled for this dirty white, riceburning, pseudo-contradiction on wheels.

There really wasn't much of a point to this blog, other than for me to describe what I saw on my way home from work last Thursday. lol

Friday, February 19, 2010

why men cheat on hot chicks

Read: why you forced your man to cheat on you, you dumb shit.

Wait what?

I know I kinda touched on some of this before, but I just read an article on And it made me want to touch on the subject a little more.

But first, let's go back for a second, and talk about Tiger Woods. I didn't really explain his actions, much more than "he capitalized on being able to bang a shitload of hot chicks". With that said, maybe he shouldn't have gotten married. And after recent revelations of abortions & impregnations, he should have had his tubes tied the minute he made it big. This of course would have saved him the hassle of having to make a bitch abort that shit. Worst case scenario, after a night of drilling a gaggle of slores, he may get some STDs.

But who gives a fuck, he's rich!

Not sayin' that's what I'd do, just sayin' the option's on the table.

Ok, so back to this article I read. Three (3) main reason for a man pounding hot chicks that he's not married to are listed: His success has left him with a sense of entitlement, and an ego to feed; he has a mental disorder/compulsion/is addicted to blasting chicks; and finally, there was a history of cheating in his family, like his dad or something.

Obviously that article is full of shit. Whether you're successful or not, the only thing you're entitled to is boning your hot wife once in a goddamn while. And if you're not able to do that, well that's the breaks, honey. Addicted to boning? Have some sort of compulsion to get it on? Sounds like a blessing! Unless of course your hot wife doesn't share your sentiment, then you're gonna either have to get help, or go elsewhere. Which do you think is easier? Exactly.

I do take exception with using a history of cheating in your family, as an excuse. Maybe you saw your dad plow a different broad every night. Even without understanding the dynamics of your parent's relationship, you'd think that at some point you'd get an inkling that that's not normal. Besides, if you're gonna do everything your dad does, are you gonna go out behind the garage and smoke weed too?

The fact is, a hot chick in a relationships gets complacent. What I mean is, she thinks simply being hot is enough to keep the sacred union afloat. Don't get me wrong, a bitch putting in the effort to be hot for me is appreciated, but not at the expense of - you guessed - the wife neglecting her wifely duties.

And what are those wifely duties? Do I really need to spell it out for you?

But what if your once hot wife is now not hot, well then you wouldn't be cheating on a hot chick. You'd be cheating on an ugly chick; and that's 100% approved by me, and any reasonable person.

Bottom line: You can have the hottest chick in the world, but if you're not enjoying what the hot chick has to offer, well then you're free to give her a one way ticket to Cheatedonville

Take it from me - I've got 28 years of experience of blasting hot chicks. Well, except for a couple times in college when a couple 6/10s inexplicably made their way back home with me lol.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

almost choked up a little

This is horrible.

So horrible, that I don't want to drag this out too much. I don't even know why I'm sharing this with you.

This might kill the massive PUMP you still have from yesterday. I know it killed mine.

One morning before work, I was furiously chowin' down on some granola, soy milk, blueberries, and a protein shake while flippin' through the channels. Such a tasty combination of healthy awesomeness. I had the volume way down on the TV cause Heckyeahwoman was still sleepin' so hard. Not sure what that had to do with anything, cause I can still hear the BOOB TUBE.

Anyway, I happened upon VH1, and there was a video on.

This video:

Oh great, a Nickelback video. Wonderful. But I watched the whole damn thing.

I don't know why, but it had me captivated. The daughter growing up, with her dead dad always there, but not really there. It made me choke up a little. Like, if I wasn't immune to crying/doing pussy things, I totally would have thought about shedding a tear.

After watching the video, I just assumed the dad was dead - like he got in some horrific car accident or something, and he died a burning, horrible death. I think it would be cooler if instead of him appearing all normal in the video, he would appear all mangled, bloody, and burnt up. Just like he died.

Or the video could just be a brutal montage of him dying. Yeah, you never would be alone again, you'd always have that mental image of your dad melting. How special.

Or he could come back as a flesh eating zombie and totally ruin that twat's graduation, wedding, etc.

This video really hit close to home cause both my parents are dead too; so I guess I should be more sensitive. Lol just kidding, they're both alive and awesome. And I def shouldn't be more sensitive.

Anyway, shame on me for watching a Nickelback video in the first place.

Here, let's all watch the video below. This'll make up for any nausea/vomming caused by the N'back vid.

Oh yeah! I almost forgot! Interesting fun fact - one of the guys in one of the above videos is gay. Take a guess which one.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


We're gonna see if we can get through this HUMP DAY PUMP UP without me posting a video that most of you never watch.

This last weekend, things got EPIC. And when things get EPIC, I get PUMPED UP; cause I love EPIC THINGS.

First thing to get you PUMPED UP is that I had off work on Monday. Me being off work, not working, leaving work, not going to work, leaving for work in the morning and turning around halfway there to head back home, calling in sick, pretty much the DEFINITIVE PUMP.

I could not type anything else for the rest of this post, and I would be just SO GODDAMNED PUMPED UP, just from the thought of not working. It's not that I hate my job, it's that I hate working. My job is pretty sweet. Well as sweet as being in sales can be.

THAT'S NOT THE POINT THOUGH. The point is - I hate not being PUMPED UP. And thinking about work will do that to me.

Anyway, first PUMP of the long weekend - NOT WORKING ON MONDAY FUCK YEAH.

Friday night, I get home around 5:30, so we can immediately pack, and hit the road. That's right, Heckyeahwoman and I were heading to Orlando for the night. See, we don't have any awesome shopping in Gainesville, so I decided we'd head to Orlando for a full day of suit shopping.

Suit shopping for my wedding.

While stopping at the local petroleum stand to gas up, I bought one of these:

Holy shit it was so tasty, I never want to drink any other soda again. That thing had me PUMPED UP, too bad I was crammed in Heckyeahwoman's little Honda Civic. Bouncin' off the car windows n shit, man.

OK, so we get there about 7:45, and check in. Now we've stayed at this hotel before, and we know that there happens to be a tasty little seafood restaurant on the property. Without even thinking twice, we both wander over and get our grub on. After a huge meal of MAHI MAHI (HOLY SHIT I LOVE MAHI MAHI), and about 8 beers apiece, we retreated back to the room.

To drink more beer.

And we did. We also watched a sweet movie, 12 Rounds, starring John Cena. Dude is so badass.

Chick in that movie is all kinds of hot, too.

I love those shitty action movies where the good guy does all the ass-kicking. Could have used some boobie shots though.

We wake up Saturday morning, and ruh-roh, Heckyeahwoman needs coffee! Knowing how she gets if she doesn't get coffee ASAP, I grab the keys and head to the 7-11 down the road.


Out of the corner of my eye, something catches me, it's a MCDONALDS! FUCK YEAH WE'RE ON VACATION MICKEY D'S BREAKFAST UP IN DIS BIT.

I got like 8 breakfast sandwiches, like 12 hash browns, and lol I actually got 4 coffees. Wait, what?

So when I'm ordering the coffees, I asked for a couple packets of splenda and a couple creamers. Dude rings in 4 packets of each, for each cup of coffee, no biggie.

After pulling up to the window, and getting handed the coffees, I see something dripping out of one of the lids. Something almost creme colored.

Wait a second, did they put the cream and sugar in there already? You bet they did.

"Um, excuse me sir, did you put the creme and sugar in there already"?

"Yes sir".

"I'm really sorry, but this isn't going to work, we need those coffees black. There's no way Heckyeahwo-we just need them black. I'm sorry about that".

So he grabs 2 black coffees for me, and I'm on my way, with the 2 cream & sugar syrupped coffes too lol.

This is getting kind of long, so I'll start putting the wraps on it. We NOM NOM NOM, check out and hit the mall. At the first stop, the first suit I tried on was the one I ultimately wound up purchasing, at the last store we went to for the day lol. Whatever, they had the best deals for me.

Our plan was to attack 5 stores in each of the two malls. After wrapping up at the first mall, we headed to the second. It was there that we decided we needed to eat. OH YEAH, SHITTY CHINESE FOOD AT THE MALL FOOD COURT FOR LUNCH PUMPED UP!

We NOMM'd on that furiously then I went to the last store, and bought the suit. Pretty bad ass suit.

That's it, we got what we came here for, so we took off on our way back to Gainesville. Of course we didn't get home without eating dinner at 5 GUYS BURGERS AND FRIES in Ocala! Then getting some Coldstone ice cream immediately afterward!

Upon arriving home at about 9ish I think, we slammed a shitload of beers, and then got up early the next morning for a Valentines day fancy brunch where we ate furiously and got all you can drink mimosas and bloody marys.

Just in cased you missed that, that's 5 straight meals of eating out. Not just eating out, but eating arguably the worst food for you, ever.

That McDonalds-Chinese-5 Guys-Coldstone run is damn near legendary.

As much as I hate to admit it, all that shitty horrible food PUMPED ME UP. And then when I remember I didn't have to work on Monday, my head almost exploded.

No time for a metaphor today, this thing is long enough. Go kick the shit out of the rest of the week/your kids.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

i don't think this is in good taste

Have you noticed the massive amounts of people on facebook becoming fans of "I bet X can get to 1,000,000 fans before Y"?

I've seen it for sports teams, states, colleges, high schools, everything.

Well, I'm thinking of creating my own pages. But I'm gonna raise the stakes a little bit. That's right, I'm gonna start small, and do kind of a stupid one.

I bet Kim Kardashian can get 1,000,000 fans before her fat sister Khloe.

Then we're gonna slide up a little bit in the lack of taste scale.

I bet Hurricane Katrina can get 1,000,000 fans before the earthquake in Haiti.

I bet misogyny can get to 1,000,000 fans before racism.

I bet abusing your kids can get 1,000,000 fans before abusing your wife.

I got more!

I bet driving a nail through your hand can get 1,000,000 fans before cutting off one of your toes.

I bet taking a flamethrower to your dog can get 1,000,000 fans before throwing a toilet at your brother.

I bet stabbing a homeless person can get 1,000,000 fans before getting stabbed by a homeless person.

I bet accidentally cutting your fingernail a little too short can get 1,000,000 fans before accidentally jamming a q-tip all the way into your ear canal AND PUNCTURING YOUR EAR DRUM AND THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE AND IT HURTS LIKE HELL.

I bet finding an avid Twilight fan, and shitting on her, can get 1,000,000 fans before being a self-respecting Twilight fan.

I bet laughing when someone who watches tons of TV dies can get 1,000,000 fans before hating old people.

I bet farting in a tupperware container, and then smelling it later, can get 1,000,000 fans before accidentally drinking your own pee again.

I bet that by the time you read this tomorrow, I'll have NOM NOM NOM'd on whatever ridiculous, tasty dinner Heckyeahwoman is making. Holy shit I can't wait to eat.

I bet you reading my blog every day (Monday through Friday, of course) can get 1,000,000 fans before you not reading my blog every day.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Happy Presidents Day!

I'm not working today!

Speaking of our president,

Friday, February 12, 2010

let's take a journey

A wedding journey.

I'm going to share a sneak peak of our impending nuptials. Often times I share personal stories, funny anecdotes, and great snippets of my life that offer a small bit of insight into who I am. Let me show you who I am.

Truth is, I still feel like I'm not open enough with you, great readers. You deserve better; you deserve more. More of me.

That's where this blog post comes in. I care about you - I want to give you a glimpse into my personal life. And what better way to do that than sharing with you the loving union of a man and a woman?

Please allow me to share with you my vision of our special day. This is how I envision it going down.

I show up to the wedding site, and am awed by how perfect everything looks. After I walked down the aisle, waiting for my future bride, things started off with a scare when Heckyeahwoman was nowhere to be found. Goddamnit, where the hell did she go?

Some of the groomsmen are AWOL too. I don't think she's the type of woman that would let a couple dudes run a train on her. But how can you really, REALLY, know somebody.

Oh! No worries! She'll be heading down the aisle in a minute!

The ceremonywas awesome, the officiant was great, and we had a great turnout. It was a beautiful day, and we had a wonderful outdoor location. My grandma even flew in all the way from Wisconsin! She was a little underdressed though, a bit more casual than we would of liked. Either way, we were glad she came. Oh, and by the way (btw), you can totally tell she's from my side of the family.

After dinner, we got to cut the cake. We did the traditional smooshing the cake in each other's faces, but I gotta admit, it was tough to cut that beautiful cake up. Some of the guests were a little put off, but if they had seen what my original blueprint for the cake was, I imagine they'd be even a little more weirded out. Whatever, preparing to be the great husband that I know I'm gonna be, I compromised with heckyeahwoman, and this is what we've got:

We got a DJ, but he was sucking it up, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I grabbed my best man, and we went up on the stage and started belting out the classics.

Surprisingly, the crowd was pretty receptive. In case you didn't know, I'm German, and we often speak German. But when I'm bustin' out the hardcore jams, it's all in English baby, what's up.

Errbody was having so much fun, the dance floor was on fire!

Then the happily married couple (us) retreated to the honeymoon suite to consummate the marriage. And by consummate, I mean we watched Maury Povich Show reruns.

Well, that's how I envision everything happening at least.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

holiday flashback

Got a nice little story for you today, one that I totally forgot about. Not sure what prompted this, but I think it makes for a nice little blogpost today.

Let's go back in time. Lettuce go back back back to when spirits where a little higher, back to last year.

Back to JESUSCHRISTMAS 2009 - so, like a month and a half ago.

Heckyeahwoman's family was in town for the holidayz, and it was awesome. The first night in Gainesville, we decided to grill out. Sweet! I love grilling out!

Heckyeahwoman makes these awesome blue cheese-stuffed burgers, so we grilled the shit out of a bunch of those.

I'm not sure what the grilling rules are when you're with multiple men. Like yeah, it's my place, and my grill, so hands off errbody else. Or does the man with the most grilling/living experience automatically default his way into being in charge of the meat-grilling?

I don't know, but I wasn't backing down. So I told her dad I was gonna get the grill started, and he said he'd be down in a minute. That was nice of him to hang out while the meat gets cooked.

With my hands full with charcoal, lighter fluid, matches, and grill grate scrubbing utensils, I made my way downstairs to the parking lot where we grill. Of course, once Heckyeahwoman saw me grab the lighter fluid, she told me I didn't need it - that the charcoal was pre-soaked. Her mom agreed that I didn't need the lighter fluid. So did her dad. So did her sister. So did her sister's boyfriend, Mars (note: name the name change)(also note: lots of great name changes here - Cars, Sars, Bars, Czars, Nars. of course all the names could potentially end in "z", rather than s. sorry).

So they all thought I didn't need any lighter fluid. FOOLS, it's always necessary.

Whatever, I didn't let them get me down as I scrubbed that grate harder than it's ever been scrubbed before.

After cleaning up the grate, I organized the charcoal into a nice little pile, and right as I was about to SOAK THE SHIT OUT THE CHARCOAL PILE, out walks her dad.

Our eyes met for a second as the bottle of lighter fluid hovered just over the grill, ready to bust.

He knew there was no turning back, so he didn't say anything. I bet he thought I was just gonna spray a little fluid.

FUKK NO, I doused the shit out of it. So much, that it was leaking out of the grill and onto the parking lot. Fuck yeah, this is gonna be a fire.

Finally, mid-spray, he told me, "I think that's enough".

Quickly, I replied, "nah", as I squeezed harder on the bottle.

Getting a little agitated/worried, "that's good, I think you got it good".

Continuing to soak the charcoal, the metal grill, and whatever else is in the vicinity, I let him know that I'm "almost done".

By now he was pretty pissed, and lost it: "Now goddamnit you little shit, I said that's enough! You need to stop screwing around so we can cook those goddamn burgers and eat!".

And goddamn, without missing a beat, I immediately stop spraying the fluid and dropped the bottle. While simultaneously slowly looking up at him, I flicked a lit match into the ocean of lighter fluid in the grill - and it bounced off the small charcoal briquette island barely poking out, as it got swallowed by the sea.


Truly a firestorm to purify.

Took some time for him to forgive me for accidentally lighting him on fire on purpose, but he did; he's a good man. Better than I.

Alternate ending:

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

HUMP DAY PUMP UP: friends bands

Very few things pump me up more than going to see my friends' bands live. Ok, a lot of things pump me up more than that, goddamnit I'm almost 30. But seriously, it's awesome - you get a nice local show, with a friend's band headlining, and you're just hanging out. But then you start hanging out with your friends.

That are in the band.

And all the groupie sluts that follow them around, are now following you around too.


That's what happens when Solidarity came through Gainesville a couple years ago. I knew a couple of the dudes from back in my days in Eau Claire. So naturally, when they toured to my part of the country, they needed a place to crash.

SO I TOLD THOSE PUSSIES TO CRASH AT MY PLACE. After I checked in with Heckyeahwoman, of course.

I made sure to let the entire venue know that, "yo, I know the band, pussies". I was grabbin' merch, actin' a fool, cursing at the promoters, it was awesome.

Then they played these songs:

It was awesome because then they played these next couple songs.


Oh guess what - I have another friend in a band. GD right. I never got to host his band at my place, but you better believe I hosted him a couple times.

This is not said friend's band, but he sent me this link:






Quick story, one time he stayed at my place, and after wining and dining his azz in DOWNTOWN GAINESVILLE FLORIDA, we went back to my place to get a couple dranks and see what was up for the night. So anyway, I get myself a whiskey on the rocks, and ask if he wants some whiskey. Obviously he's not an idiot, so he replies affirmatively.

As I hand him the glass of whiskey on the rocks, he kind of looks at it retarded, then at me retarded, then at it again, retarded, and then at me again, retarded.

"That's whiskey dude, that's what you wanted, right?" I ask.

"Oh yeah, I just usually DON'T DRINK IT STRAIGHT YOU FUCKING PUSSY", he replies.

"You want something to mix it with, bruh?"

"Nah I'm good, thanks man".

And with that, that's how we face the rest of this shitfilled week we got starin' back at us. It may not be what exactly we want; but you know what, we're all far too PUMPED UP/COKED UP/STRUNG OUT ON HEROIN/CHIEFED to really give a shit. Slam the rest of this week like my homeboy slammed that whiskey.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

unsolved mystery / murder tv shows

You ever watch those TV shows about a seemingly unsolved mystery, or murder, or something? I'm thinking of that stupid one on E!, I think it's called E! Investigates. I guess they were investigating some crazy murders or something. Being like the only show on that channel not about celebrities, it was pretty decent.

Somebody gets murdered or killed, usually like somebody's wife or husband. Of course, there's a suspect, and usually it's the other spouse.

No matter who it is, or what happens, the TV show always makes it all dramatic.

There's always an interview with the victim's parents, who "knew all along that it was him (or her)". And then they'll start recounting weird things about the relationship, that for a normal person, would have no bearing on whether or not they murdered their spouse. Like "yeah, he always did get up a little early, I always thought that was a little weird". Or, "oh yeah, I remember, he always liked his steak really well done".


I was watching this one, and the parent whose son was killed said, "god has been good to us", when the ex-wife got convicted on very sketchy evidence. Was God good to you when your son WAS KILLED?

Okay, I'm not that up on my bible studies, but these dipshits are essentially thanking God - for revenge. I don't know, I went to Catholic School for like 3 years when I was like 7, and the one thing I got out of it (other than that Sister Theresa was a bitch, and that she always yelled at me for picking my nose in class), was that God loves everybody, and that he doesn't really do that whole justice and revenge thing.

Lol @ God only being good to some people, and not others.


Let's apply this to more real life situations:

-God was good to me when I got in that car accident, and now, instead of my brains, my sister's are splattered all against the windshield. Thanks God, preesh!

Anyway, we got a little off track - then the show cuts to the shot of the victim's parents congratulating the prosecutor, for ruining a most likely innocent person's life. I'm surprised the victim's family didn't have one of those foam fingers that football fans have, a cooler fulla beer, and jerseys on, the way they were cheering over the guilty verdict.

The first thing I thought was, "I'm glad your son died, you heartless pieces of shit".

The evidence was so sketchy, like I think it was just one (1) witness saying the couple had been in a fight the night the son died. And then the son wound up dying in like an automobile accident, or something totally not murder. And then they show the convicted wife's family crying and losing it and shit. Like this is real life. Well, for them it was.

If that happened to me, I'd probably just lose it and start shooting everybody.

Monday, February 8, 2010

random heck yeah: whole foods

We ended last week with random fuck you. It's only appropriate to start this week with a random heck yeah. I would have done a random fuck yeah; but I really don't like cursing in the title of my blog - so I try to keep it to a minimum.

But yo, I gots no qualms about cursing up a fukken storm in the post itself.

Why the random heck yeah for Whole Foods? I don't know, I've never set foot in one. I don't even know if we have one here in Gainesville.

But I recently read something that they did for their employees; and I thought it was awesome.


They recently upped their employee discount from 20% off, to up to 30% off. Pretty awesome, eh? Goddamn right it is.

But there's a catch! There's always a catch!

You just can't be a fat tub of shit. And you can't be sucking on cancer sticks every 5 minutes.

So Whole Foods wants its employees to be healthier? They want to reward those that are healthy, and those that get healthy? Well that's pretty awesome.

Now of course, for every awesome thing that happens, somebody is usually gonna piss and moan, & cry about it. Here, some bitch from Jezebel, Anna North cries:

If your BMI is above 30, you'll get to keep the original 20% employee discount, but you'll be paying more than your thinner co-workers, who can knock as much as 30% off. Because if public health research has taught us anything, it's that reducing people's buying power totally makes them healthier. Stay Classy, Whole Foods.

Not sure how giving someone a 20% discount is reducing their buying power. Funny, I thought it was INCREASING their buying power.

And you guessed it, people are crying discrimination, and that it's punishing fat people. LOLOLOL. Someone also cried that BMI isn't a very good indicator of a person's health. It's not perfect but what do they expect - a subjective physical analysis of the tub of shit in question?

Do you want me to eyeball every employee and decide if they're a fat fuck or not? Cause I can do that, but I have a hunch that a lot more feelings would be hurt than if the BMI method was used.

Here check out what this dipshit has to say on it:

One of them, University of Colorado law professor Paul Campos, wrote at Lawyers, Guns and Money, “Even if one decides to enter John Mackey's Epidemiological Fantasyland, where good health is achieved by purchasing $27-a-pound Ahi tuna in order to achieve Optimal Thinness, how much sense does it make to make it more expensive for your non-thin employees to purchase said tuna?”

Lol, asshole, I read your little sentence, and I don't know if that's a slippery slope, a bait and switch, or whatever the fuck you call it, but I'm gonna politely ask you to STOP MAKIN' SHIT UP. Maybe less time with the butthurtedness, and more time teaching law. Actually, just spend more time plotting your suicide.

Jillian Lovejoy Lowery said, "...and that even smokers might like to purchase their avocados at a greater discount”.

She must have meant for a greater discount to make it easier to afford those $5 packs of cigarettes. Maybe it's discrimination that the cigarettes aren't sold at a discount! lol.

Maybe I'm missing something, but nobody made you smoke, nobody made you fat - whatever happened to people taking a little responsibility for not being a fat waste of cancerous shitfuck?

Whole Foods, heck ye-no, FUCK YEAH.

Do you want to be featured in a RANDOM HECK YEAH? It's easy! Just email me at, any story of you discriminating against fat fucks or smokers. Well, actually you discriminating against anyone would be awesome.

Friday, February 5, 2010

random fuck you: guy fieri

The first thing you think when you see this asshole, what is it?

What immediately pops into your BRAIN?

What are you thinking right now?

Douchebag? Virgin? Eternal pud-whacker? 25 to life might be worth murdering this scumbag?

Nice sunglasses, dickhead.

Just your average homeboy, gnawin' on a cob of the sweetest corn. Not at all wishin' it was a dude's dong. Nah, not at all.

Nice sleeveless shirt, asshole. Nice sleeveless shirt in public, asshole. The hair, the beard, the loudmouth personality, the children & wife beating*, I don't know where to start with him. Then he goes out in public, and without being totally jacked, wears a sleeveless shirt. He is everything that's wrong with...well, everything.

This turdcutter makes the subhuman queefs from Jersey Shore look like dudebro's I'd actually want to hang out with. Because of Guy Fieri, I am now contemplating booking DJ Pauly D to DJ our wedding lol.

Just horrible.

I don't know, I guess I had a bad day today, and instead of coming home, hitting the bottle, then hitting heckyeahwoman again, I thought it would be better to focus my frustrations elsewhere. Due to his nonstop douchebaggery, he is the target of my disgust.

Guy Fieri, FUCK YOU; and FUCK your stupid TV show, you FAT FUCK.

*I have no idea if he actually beat anything besides his eunuch pud, I can only assume - due to his deliberately unfortunate appearance.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

i think my work computer just broke

Yeah, whenever this album comes on, the volume keeps getting higher and higher. I don't know what to do about it.

Please scroll down for today's post! Thanks for reading!

i would never serve that to them

*Note from the publisher: the authors of heck yeah, man don't, as a rule, use names. Please note that the names have been changed, in accordance with the aforementioned rule. Enjoy.*

It's THIRSTY THURSDAY, so I don't want to take up much of your time here. Just a quick little story to bring a smile to your face.

And a pucker to dat azz.

12.31.09, about 6:33 PM. Location: our bedroom, at home.

Haha, I know where you think this is going, but trust me, that's not the case. No pounding here.

I got off work about 2pm, went to the gym, came home, showered, and immediately went to bed to take a nap. Yo, it's New Year's Eve, and I need a nap before the festivities. C'mon, I had off work like a week and a half, partied furiously the whole time, then I had to come to work for a couple days - it was brutal, I needed a nap, man.

I wanted to make it out till the new year, bruh.

So anyway, I took a nap, woke up, and heckyeahwoman was just getting home from wherever she was. Seeing how awesome my nap was, she immediately crawled into bed, cause she wanted one.

No, still not going there.

So I got up; she went to bed, and told me to wake her in a couple hours. And wake her in a couple hours I did. By now it was like 6:30 PM, and we had to be at our friends' place by 8-ish!

So, here we are - trying to think of what to do for dinner. After a little discussion, we decided to make something at home.

But what?

We had this meatloaf frozen dinner thing, and a beef stroganoff frozen meal. Disgusting, but those were the options for dinner.

We needed to get rid of them, because they'd been in there for a while; and obviously, neither of us really wanted to eat either of them. Recognizing this, I had a genius idea!

"Let's eat the stroganoff, and sometime we can cook the meatloaf and have Ryan and Machel over for dinner."

Heckyeahwoman's response: "Oh god, I would never serve that to them. Or anyone."

So what did we end up eating that night for dinner? I don't remember, but the other one is still chillin' in the freezer.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010




If you recall my ranting from during last season of Lost, we get together with a group of about 7 or 8 friends, and bounce between houses, with the hosts each cooking dinner, and providing wine.

This season's premier was a little different - we all brought a dish this time. You wanna know what I brought?

Damn right, SAUSAGE. Well that's the plan anyway. You see, I'm typing this up on Monday night, cause I won't have time on Tuesday night - cause I'll be watching the GODDAMNED SHOW!






But please, fondon't let me eat all of it now!

Here, check the official trailer:

And yo, just because I enjoy taking in a weekly viewing of a television show with a bunch of friends, while taking turns cooking each other dinner, and drinking wine, doesn't mean I'm a pussy, and that I can't get fully PUMPED UP.

Check it, pussies:

The week is getting shorter, and there's only one way to finish it: PUMPED THE FUCK UP. The only way we're gonna do that is to get in the LOST MINDSET. Channel your inner island, and turn the rest of the week into that shitty airplane that was torn apart in the show.

But unlike in the TV show, this time, there are NO SURVIVORS.


Tuesday, February 2, 2010

tim tebow is the man

I'm sure most of you, especially my local fans, are aware of mah boi, Tim(othy Q) Tebow doing a commercial.

For the Super Bowl.

About abortion.

Such a touchy subject.

As it turns out, the rumors are true. He will be the focal point of a 30 second spot by the religious group, Focus on the Family.

Here are a couple excerpts from the article:

"An ad that uses sports to divide rather than to unite has no place in the biggest national sports event of the year -- an event designed to bring Americans together," said Jemhu Greene, president of the New York-based Women's Media Center.

Not sure if Jemhu (lol) is aware, but not getting an abortion is actually saving a life. There really is no arguing that. Any way you slice it, whether you're pro-life, or pro-choice, you gotta rofl that saving lives is dividing anything. Lol you liberal twat, you make us pro-choicers look retarded.

And here He is, the man speaketh:

"I know some people won't agree with it, but I think they can at least respect that I stand up for what I believe," Tebow said. "I've always been very convicted of it (his views on abortion) because that's the reason I'm here, because my mom was a very courageous woman. So any way that I could help, I would do it."

Not sure if you know, but that's why he was born. His mother was going to abort the shit out of him. Like furiously abort that little dude. But then she didn't. According to ancient myth, she was gonna abort him herself, but the fetus was impervious to coat-hangers. Now we have Tim Tebow, the best athlete that's ever lived, and 2 NCAA championships in 4 years. Suck on that, pussybeats.

The guy is on national television telling his story. Who complains about that? I'll tell you, the type of people that complain about anything. Holy shit, I'd love to be on national television telling MY story: "So there I was, doing blow off a hooker's ass..." - more on MY story later.

Whatever, Tebow got off easy - he only had Focus on the Family crying about him. If it were me, telling my story, I'd have the NAACP, ACLU, Focus on the Family, NAFTA, CNN, HTTP, and Move-On all crying about it.

Take this into consideration: "Thirty-second commercials during the Super Bowl are selling for $2.5 million to $2.8 million."

I wonder how many abortions this commercial will really prevent lol. Cause goddamn, that's a lot of money. Maybe they should have just taken that cash, and sent it to Haiti lol.

The truth is, I 100% support women's choice. That being said, I also 100% support people shutting the fuck up over a Super Bowl commercial. It's the Super Bowl, you're not supposed to be sober enough to even register what it is that you're watching. Unless you're a Saints fan - in that case, you better pay attention, cause it may not happen for another million years.

Maybe you just don't like to see TIM TEBOW speak out in support of something you don't agree with.

Let's take a look at celebrities endorsing other shitty things:

Lebron James endorses McDonald's. I have a feeling that McDonald's is a whole lot worse for most kids than not getting aborted. I also have a feeling that Bron-Bron isn't incorporating McDonald's-anything into his daily diet. Not a tear from anyone though.

Wait, you actually probably do agree with eating McDonald's every day, because you're a fat tub of shit who probably thinks that obesity is totally genetic, while you were at one time, an able-bodied stallion, but your sedentary lifestyle and lack of proper nutrition has turned you into a worthless fat fuck holy shit I hate fat people. Ok, bad example.

How about this one: Tiger Woods once endorsed Buick automobiles. That's pretty bad; because Tiger Woods isn't only not white, not old, and not senile; but he gets laid. A lot. That's pretty much the opposite of the typical Buick driver. But nobody gave him any grief over that!

Anyway, I'd love to tell you that I'm going to totally pay attention to the game, and every single (fucking, goddamn) commercial, but honestly, I'm going to be far too fucked up to have any idea what the hell is going on.

Colts 35 - Saints 24, would love to see the Saints win, but Peyton Manning is such a class act.

Monday, February 1, 2010

facebook holy lol

Holy crap, I logged into facebook the other morning; and well, as you can see below, I found something awesome.

Take a look at the picture below, and think about what you see.

, yes, I am a fan of Dear Prudence. But that's not what we're rofling about. In case you didn't know, Prudence is just some lady that writes an advice column. Sometimes I spend entire afternoons at work just reading everything she writes. That would be a sweet job, writing an advice column.

Naturally I clicked the link, cause with a title like "How can I stop abusing my girlfriends?" - I had to read more:

Dear Prudence,
I am in my early 20s and was recently dumped by my long-term girlfriend. This shocked me because of how in love with me this girl seemed to be and because of the revelations it brought about. Even though 90 percent of our relationship seemed blissfully happy, the remaining 10 percent was miserable because I was extremely verbally abusive to her and gradually restricted her social world because of my jealousy.

I insisted she avoid contact with guys she had slept with (and I promised to do the same with my previous partners); I used her romantic past to make her feel awful when she wanted to spend time with friends at places where her past flings would be; I held the fact that she'd had casual sexual partners against her. At the time, I thought I was a good guy who simply held his girlfriend to the same standards he imposed on himself. I did the same thing in my previous relationship. Now it's painfully obvious what a monster I was.

I've pored over self-help books and tried to make sure I do not revert to being this horrible person, but I always do. Now I am in a fresh relationship with a girl—we've fallen quickly for each other—and I'm keeping quiet about my discomfort that she's friends with guys she has slept with. But I know something will eventually slip through the cracks. I'm sure a therapist would help, but I'm an in-debt college student and can't afford it. Is there anything I can do to avoid ending up the monster that I seem destined to become?

My first thought was, damn, dude sounds like a psychopath. Jeez, when I saw the word "abuse", I'm totally thinking like abusing bitches, with like your fists 'n shit.

But then my brain connected with what I had just read. And nowhere did it say he cuffed that muff right up. There was nothing about laying a smackdown on this chick. Nary a mention of her getting all Rihanna'd.

But seriously, verbal abuse though? Please. Verbal abuse is for pussies. Go big or go home, that's what I say. Anyway, no matter what your definition of inter-spouse abuse may be, the dude wrote a letter, my girl Prudie answered it, and here we are.

Prudie's response is quite long winded as she gets on her pedestal, and tries to act better than him. So I'll save you the pain of having to read the entire thing (sorry, the cry for help was kinda long too). It's funny, Prudie blames him multiple times; and then she tries to make him feel bad.

It's like she's baiting him, no - it's like she's daring him, to take it to the next level. Prudie just double-dog-dared this dude to have an existential meltdown. Come on Prudie, you're gonna cause even more trouble. Imagine this dude reads YOUR response, freaks out, and goes on a verbal abuse rampage.

Oh no, what if he gets on his bike on a busy Saturday afternoon downtown, and just starts verbally abusing everybody he sees? What if he's biking around furiously, slinging insults at anybody within earshot?

"Mr Johnson, your kids are ugly, and one of them probably isn't even yours!"

"Hey Dr. Williamson, remember those meds you prescribed me for my ulcer? Well, I fed 'em to my cat, and it made her lose all her hair. Fuck you, doctor asshole!"

"Billy, Stephen, & Rodney, your parents hate you; there is no Santa Clause; and I'm the tooth fairy, you little shits."

"Hey Anne & Barry, I know you go to couples' therapy, and I can't stop laughing myself to sleep over it every night! You retards!"

"Little Johnny, come 'ere! Remember that time I gave you $20 to mow my lawn? Well I stole that from your parents, the time I was on a 3 day coke bender and broke into your house while you were on vacation! Hahaha pwned!"

Oh god, the horror. The blood is on your hands, Prudie.

Also, lol @ this