Friday, July 29, 2011

food carts

Just read this article that spurred this very post. Hover that hyperlink, friends and check where the article is from: yeah, MSN ftw, folks.

We have food carts in Ann Arbor. In fact, a space just off downtown was delegated to house these semi-mobile eateries.

And while the food was really tasty, the one time I went, I felt really ripped off. I paid $10 for a can of soda (I rarely drink soda) and what amounted to 4 chicken wings worth of food. Oh, and 3 mushrooms. If you can do the math, that's over $1 per item!


With the recession, how can those assholes justify destroying the working class like that? I guess if you're deathly skinny, wearing horn rimmed glasses, plaster the word "vegan" all over your cart and are wearing a tight plaid shirt in 80 degree heat, you can justify just about anything, however crazy.

But that's beside the point. I don't really care whether my food comes from a kitchen that has wheels or not. I don't even care if some hipster vegan turd is making it. All I really care about is if it's delicious and reasonably priced. And if you washed your fucking hands before touching my fucking food. Holy shit I hate non-hand washers.

Predictably, like most things, people are going to complain, and food on wheels is no different.

Not surprisingly, one of the most vocal opponents to rolling restaurants are other restauranteurs. I can understand wanting to cut down on competition in your area of business - that makes total sense. But some localities are being pressured to pass legislation...uh, legislating things. Which is fine, you gotta have some rules to keep things all sanitary and stuff.

But thoughtlessly limiting competition?

Like, you can't have a food cart within 50 feet of an existing eatery. What about other restaurants? Right next door? Beside the fact competition generally makes things better, that sounds like a form of restaurant racism to me. If you're a brick and mortar store, you can chill; but if you've got wheels, you gotta GTFO.

It's not the poor food cart's fault it was born with wheels.

One restaurant owner, while appealing to the raw power of sound logic, is saying that food carts are unfair! And we hate things that are unfair!

It gets better; apparently they're (the food carts) unfair because a food cart has lower overhead costs to operate. Damn those people and their more thought-through business models!

Instead of whining about other people being better at business than you, why not take advantage of the lower overhead and cost of entry and get your own food cart! Why not seize the opportunity to make your food mobile and bring it to parts of your city that may not be familiar with your fare?

Nah, but then there'd be nothing to complain about it, and like my main man Kurt "where's the rest of my head" Cobain said, "I miss the comfort of being sad".


Wednesday, July 27, 2011


In honor of our PURE MICHIGAN vacation coming up, I thought I would PUMP YOU UP with a couple PURE MICHIGAN PSAs.

For those of you non-Michiganders, these are spoofs of PURE MICHIGAN commercials. And are generally pretty funny.

Also, kinda unrelated but kinda related, I present to you our state motto: if you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you.

These videos, this evidence, proves beyond a reasonable doubt that Michigan is an awesome place to live. Don't believe me? Let me tell you again:

Michigan is an awesome place to live.

Check out these awesome video learning you all about the Detroit Electronic Music Festival. That title alone should probably be enough to cause you to steer your scroll bar right on past it, but I implore you: if you need a ROFLPUMP, click play, and set your pre-laugh to PUMPMODE.

I haven't even watched this one spoofing University of Michigan football fans. I'm just going to assume that it's funny. Besides, mocking football fans is always worthy of a PUMP.

We went to a Wolverines game last year and there was some drunk dickhead playing a cowbell so hard, so furiously that if he played it any harder I bet he would have ripped a hole in the time-space continuum. Such a ferocious cowbell playing fan.

PUMP ON, friends:

And in honor of the NFL lockout ending(!!!), a PURE MICHIGAN spoof of Detroit Lions fans.

While the state of the Lions the last few years has been dismal - peppered with a little hope from last season, one thing that doesn't change is the fact that they play in Detroit. While that may be a PUMPDOWNER, the stadium looks sweet, and it's in a really nice part of town.

Lions fans, crazy fuckers. I don't know about that, but one time I was chillin' in a box seat at the Palace, watching a Pistons game and Ndamukah Suh was in the box over, wide as fuck.

Dude's shoulders and back are so broad that I immediately climbed into the rafters and starting doing pullups until I fell to my death.

Good thing the Pistons were playing the Magic and I landed on Dwight Howard's right deltoid, it broke my fall, and I just fell right onto the sidelines of the court.

Security picked me up, and I flashed my VIP badge, they apologized (!!!) and walked me back up to the exclusive members only bar.

Long story short, I was PUMPED.

Lettuce all rejoice in the fact that FANTASY FOOTBALL IS BACK ON I CAN'T WAIT TO CRUSH MY LEAGUES!!!


Monday, July 25, 2011

a new milestone

Yo so today I'm turning 30. Yeah, I'm 30 and still writing stories on the internet about things children are too mature to bother writing about, writing songs about running backwards through bonerfields and I'm more concerned with me me me than you you you.

Where does that leave me?

At the beginning of a long fucking shame spiral, that's where.

My career so far is in sales, and that's only because I have no other redeeming, marketable skills.

My mom would probably disagree, but still.

Worse than not being good at anything, there's not even that much I enjoy.

I mean, I like to say I enjoy biking, working out, shredding the shit out of my guitar, playing drums, doing more pushups and pullups than you, floating down the river getting loaded with a freaking floating cooler lol, writing awesome songs, being the dude everybody thinks is awesome, having a hot awesome wife, living the dream, lighting smokeless cigarettes with hundred dollar bills, stomping fools, keeping racism alive into the 2010's...but I just can't muster up the energy to enjoy anything.

Like, it's one thing to muster up the energy to do something, a hobby, anything. But it's entirely another thing to dig deep and find the inner strength to actually say, "yeah, I enjoy this", and really mean it. Because let's face it, no matter how you pass the time in life, the end is always the same; entropy, death and your body falling apart are all 100% unavoidable.

No exceptions.

You may be on your deathbed saying to yourself how awesome your life was? But deep down you don 't really believe it.

Yeah, Johnny Awesome may be telling everybody that he's at peace with death and that he's lived a great life.

But I don't buy it.

Every goddamn person who ever lived is filled with regrets, shoulda's, coulda's, woulda's. Maybe they're all silent and those sentiments are never made audible to anybody but their own nervous, racing, insecure mind, but they're still there - in the back of your head, lurking, hunkering down, not going anywhere.

It's just like a tick - you see it, pull it out and think it's gone, but the head is still embedded in your body.

At some point our batteries die, and the last thought you're going to be left with is that you should have done this or maybe you should have done that. Your entire life was you working towards that penultimate moment when you can look back at your life and have no regrets.

And then die at peace with yourself.

The real rub is that remember when you splurged and bought that awesome sports car, or traveled around South America for a year, or lived your life doing selfless things to help others, each time you said to yourself that if you don't do it, you'll always regret it.

Well, as you lay there with your last breaths being stolen away, your mind is populating its thoughts with even more things that you wish you would have done, and all the things you never did. And worse, because your desperation is causing your taxed body to overexert itself, these bitter thoughts are coming at you in bits and pieces, in slow motion.

Quite an unsavory feeling, eh?

See you at the bar later as we're all trying to wash the foul taste of life out of our mouths.

Friday, July 22, 2011

someties i love you,

No kidding, I find almost as much blogworthiness FERKING BULLSHIT in my daily morning browsing of as I do in my every day life.

Came across this article about seven things that guys hate that broads do on facebook.

What we'll do is, I'll list each thing that you, the dude, supposedly hates, and in addition to msn's drab commentary, I'll spice it up with some of my own.

1. Getting all CIA on us
"I hate it when women turn into 'spies' and go digging into your older posts/pictures trying to find dirt, and then ask you about the women they don't know. It's as if they're trying to catch you in some secret affair! Look, if it's out there for you/all too see, I'm obviously not hiding anything!"
— Mike, 32

Mike doesn't like his facebook friends looking through his public pictures and information :(

He's also a 400lb, 32 year old virgin who has never had a meaningful enough relationship to have an adult conversation about fidelity, about "the number", and about OMG WHO IS THAT SLUT YOU HAVE YOUR ARM AROUND IN THAT PICTURE?

That's, my sister, you psycho, chill.

2. Making that duck face
"I cannot stand when women post thousands of goofy faced pictures — especially that fake puckered lips pose. It's sooooo fake. Whatever happened to smiling?"
— Cameron, 30

You better get used to that stupid duck face because every bitch and their mother is doing it. No but seriously, you see a duck face; I see a monster rack that just happens to have a head attached to it.

There's this one chick that appears in my facebook feed, through mutual friends, and she makes the dumbest fucking crinkled duck face that I've ever seen. She's a goddamn granolahead and is probably picking dandelions as we speak.

3. Opening the vault
"No one wants to know how closely your life resembles the Jerry Springer show. Keep all those ugly details to yourself, please!"
— Daniel, 34

Yeah, I hate it when a broad let's it all hang out there and let's me know she's BATSHIT CRAZY, right up front, before you're six months too late and you got a bun in her oven because when you weren't looking she poked a hole in the condom. And this is coming from a guy who dated a crazy chick that is familiar with the term "blumpkin". And she tried to run me over one time.

I get it, nobody likes a loony ass slore, but if it's a slore you're potentially having relations with, PUT THAT CRAZY OUT THERE, GIRL. Red flags, man, the earlier the better.

4. Writing man-hating status updates
"It's a huge downer when women vent about men in their status updates — how we're all liars and cheaters. It's just not true! Cut it out, already!"
— Al, 25

I agree bro, I hate chicks too.

5. Posting self-portrait albums
"I find it really lame when a girl has nothing but pictures of herself on her profile. It makes me think she has no friends. It seems kind of pathetic, and seriously vain."
— Raul, 24

Raul, my man, you may hate that, but you know goddamn well you spent an hour thirteen clicking through all 457 pictures she uploaded, and you didn't see an inch of skin beneath her neck.

Now who us the real dipshit here - you, the lurking creeper failure, or her, the secret fatty?

6. Premature relationship publicity
"This one girl I was hooking up with changed her main profile picture to be a picture of the two of us together. It was way too soon — and I was still dating other girls, who had a lot of questions after that!"
— Mike, 27

See number three. Couple things about this sitch though. First, as you get older, you're going to find chicks are moving faster and faster, relationship-wise. That's because their biological clocks are ticking and they think that if they can make you think you're in a relationship with them, you'll marry them. Maternal instincts and evolution and stuff.

So here's the thing: let things move quickly, and tap that ass ASAP. I fail to see how this is bad. Like, clingy is one thing, but a chick getting a little excited about being your woman/sex slave? C'mon, there are worse things in life. Like life.

7. Artsy photos
"What's with girls posting pictures of their feet these days? Who wants to see gross toes in a picture of a nice pool or an ocean? It makes zero sense."
— Jesse, 28

Listen Jesse, you can't appreciate a woman's nicely manicured foot? Are you some kind of weirdo? You like bitches with gnarled ass toes? You like flat footed ass bitches with french manicures on gross, long, uncut toenails? Cause that's what you're sounding like. Who gives a shit about someone's goddamn foot popping up in a stupid picture of water? What other kind of shit do you have meltdowns over?

I think the REAL problem is that every chick thinks she's a photographer. From dozens of facebook photo albums consisting of the same photo of a tree with different stupid effects on each one. Congratulations cockpit, you have a camera and a computer. Nobody gives a shit. You're not artsy; you're not a photographer. And you know what else? You're not a writer either. Die.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011



It's THIS:


Just a couple thoughts on that video:

1. Lol @ the dudes traveling like crazy.
2. How much of an asshole would you feel like just dancing and rapping in front of a camera like that?
3. What's with all the crackers in the crowd?

Great song, really get's me PUMPED!

Speaking of NO LIMIT, guess who just got a letter from the credit card company in the mail?

Yeah - Heck Yeah, Man Inc., that's who.

The fine folks at Visa must know that I ain't all about limits. Nah, that ain't me.

WE GOING ON A SPENDING SPREE YOU CAN'T STOP US. Literally, you can't - the lack of limits means I can carry a balance and then get crushed by interest payments. FINANCIAL FREEDOM ISN'T FREE!

I broke the good news to Heckyeahwoman, and her first question was, "wHaT's YoUr aPr?" And yeah, she asked me just like that, just like I typed it.

Of course I played dumb: "I don't know." I really don't. I don't care, cause I was too busy writing the word "limits" on a piece of paper and then pissing all over it.

Yeah, Heckyeahwoman was pretty pissed about that, cause I did it in her kitchen, but she got the sentiment. Cause when you're feelin' the PUMP, YOU CAN'T STOP IT.

Trying to think of what other NO LIMIT PUMPS I can find, but honestly, I'm coming up short.

So I'll tell you what DOESN"T PUMP ME UP: driving around in brutal 90 degree oppressive heat trying to find a goddamn bike shop that is either open or actually exists, while sweating so hard, swearing at the top of my lungs, cause I just need one (1) goddamn tube.

THEN THE REDEMPTIONPUMP COMES: successfully and completely installing a tire on my bike. Really the only hiccup came when I accidentally put a hole in the original tube, while trying to take the tire off lol.




Monday, July 18, 2011

couple things i noticed

Been a busy little weekend.

In-laws are in town so we've been goin' HAM on some booze and eatin' good in the neighborhood. Grilled some steaks, beer brats, corn on macabre and potatoes on Saturday, that was probably the highlight.

Trying to think, what else did I do?

Oh yeah, I totally changed the tire on my bike! True story. I got a flat on Tuesday, and both the treads were bald, so it was time to bring the bike in, fix the flat and grab some new tires.

After talking to the dude, he suggested a couple options, and once I exclaimed about the price, he said he'd do the labor for free. DONE

Naturally I asked if it's something I could, or should, do myself.

He nodded affirmatively.

So he took me back, changed the rear tire, the one with the hole, and showed me how it's done...with the idea being I'd see it, and then get home and do the front.

It was going fine, until I checked the front tube, to make sure there wasn't a hole in it. So after pumping some air UPINNATBIT, you can imagine my surprise when a leak made itself audible.

SWEATYRAGE - I don't have another tube laying around.

Eh, so I'm about halfway done, will grab a tube sometime this week and get it thrown on there.

Went tubing down the Huron River on Sunday, for like 4 hours. It was really nice, but the pinnacle for us was one of our friends bringing fried chicken.

Fried chicken? Heck yeah. What a delicious pre- and post-river-tubing treat.

Anyway, just wanted to touch on a couple things that aren't totally worthy of their own blogs, but struck me as totally blogworthy.

First, a month or two ago, Heckyeahwoman and I were just hitting the liquor store quick, when as we were leaving, we noticed the lady who checked out behind us was leaving too. She was a remarkably average woman, kinda chubby, kinda frumpy, nothing really MILFY about her.

She had mom-hair, kinda mom-jeans, and looked completely run of the mill.

Except for one thing, as she was getting into her car, we noticed another woman passenger sitting shotgun.

Obviously they were lesbians.

But that's not the strange part. No, the strange part is that the lady bought a bag of Kruncher's Potato Chips and a bottle of cheap red wine. Not something you see every day.

Think that's weird?

One of the last bike rides I was on, there was a jogger on the trail ahead. Pretty normal. 'Cept the thing is, as I was getting ready to pass him, he flashed me a thumbs up.

Trail was totally clear, wasn't like he was letting me know there was nobody ahead.

Was he letting me know that I have his permission, that it's OK, to pass him?

I think he was confused, THIS MY TRAIL. Whose trail?


Got a special HUMP DAY PUMP UP coming up in two (2) days. Guaranteed to get those PUMP Juices flowing.

Friday, July 15, 2011

you only kinda own that property you own

Wow, so I was a-browsin' my facebook feed the other day (read: lurking the shit out of every single post), when posted an article about a couple building a fence.

A couple building a fence on their property, sounds interesting, eh? Until I started reading it. Have you ever become suddenly red with rage while reading a local news story about homeowners installing a fence?

Cause I totally did.

Note: that's just as much an indictment on me, the easily-angered asshole, as it is on what you're about to read.

Some new homeowners purchased a house in the Historic District, put up a nice fence, and got in big trouble with the city.

Most of you probably don't follow Ann Arbor official city business, and I don't much myself, but there are a lot of budget cuts that are being talked about - namely police, maybe fire protection, and probably education.

Luckily, things aren't so dire where Jill Thacher, the city's historic preservation coordinator, can still keep her job...doing what? Harassing the fine, tax-paying folks of this great city.

There are people getting mugged and beaten in a not yet hopeless-and-lost part of town, and Ace Deuce (Ann Arbor to the locals) can't afford to throw a little extra popo protection over there? Is it really for the greater good to harass people over fences instead?

Now if this were happening in Ypsilanti, I'd just say fuck it - most of what I've seen from that city is totally expendable. Except the $10/month Planet Fitness. And a certain couple businesses that employ my friends.

But back to the fence.

I guess the Historic District prohibits homeowners from owning their homes/putting up fences...fences that are put up on the corner of their property to keep people from trespassing on it. Jill Thacher thinks it's OK for you to trespass all over this couple's yard. In fact, in a recent interview, she invited all of Ann Arbor to have a trespassing-and-fuck-your-fence party at the couple's home, and then shared the address.

Yeah, she also expected the homeowners to provide snacks and refreshments.

The nerve!

Look at the picture; the fence looks nice.

Oddly enough, the Historic District does approve of chain link fences. Lol!

What's the takeaway here? It's obvious: let he or she who is without sin cast the first stone.

Meaning, do you follow every rule? Do you ever speed? Have you flicked a cigarette butt out your car window? You ever had a tiny bit too much to drink, and then drove home? Ever told a little white lie? I know you've jaywalked. I bet most of you used a fake ID when you were 18-20, too.

If that's the case, then I don't think you should be losing too much sleep over someone else's fence.

Let's hope our weekends are better than that of people who live in a world where you may potentially put up the wrong fence!

Wednesday, July 13, 2011


Had a nice little PUMP-FILLED jaunt to the grocery store on Sunday morning. Woke up in a great mood, had some coffee, realized I was sweating (SWEATPUMP) so I turned on the AC, filled out the grocery list, and off I went.

Too bad some assholes tried to deflate the PUMP. Dude, you're grocery shopping at the Krog, I'm not sure what you expect or who you think you are.

First PUMP came when I saw that Heckyeahwoman added a bunch of fruit and veggies to the grocery list! Heck yeah! Woman! I don't know why, but I really enjoy purchasing vegetables and fruit. Maybe it's the feeling every square inch of each piece of produce, feeling for the soft spot. Maybe it's the fun of putting each delicious piece in those little thin plastic bags. Who knows and who cares, I'm shoppin' man, I'm shoppin'.

The first 3/4 of the shopping experience went off without incident, not like you're expecting "incidents" at noon on Sunday at the Kroger, (this ain't the Winn). But then Mr. Retired Yuppie Asshole decided to have a family reunion with his son and son's friend.

In the middle of the aisle.

Yeah, he just sat there with his cart blocking the aisle. Must have been shopping with his middle aged son, as the son introduced the dad to some lady he must have known. No big deal, yet. As a gentleman, on my approach I humbly said "excuse me".

Nothing, didn't budge.

Said it again.

Nothing, didn't acknowledge my presence.

"Excuse me, I'm just going to sneak by you here, fucking dick." As my bumper cart blasted his out of the way.

While nobody sustained any injuries, and neither cart was damaged, I'm pretty sure the force of contact shuffled the shit out of whatever he had in his cart.



Just kept on shopping like nothing happened, wake of terror behind me.

Finished up shopping, grabbed some yogurt, and creeped over to the checkout line. Self checkout, mind you.

Oddly, all the checkouts were taken, and there appeared to be an errant cart waiting in line, sans driver/shopper. Hmmmm.

A quick scan of the immediate area told me that I don't give a shit, so I jumped all over the next checkout that just opened.

And that's when I watched a grown ass man have a grown ass meltdown.

See, the problem was all the shopping carts were outside. Noticing that, he kindly informed an employee of the problem. The employee apologized, mentioned something about being shorthanded (staff, not her actual hands), and summoned some young boy to grab some carts.

So far, so good.

Now where he went astray was rather than going outside to quickly grab a cart, or gulp...a couple, he stood there and complained.

Among the things this asshole said to the poor lady working there, after his initial complaint:

"You'd think they'd have shopping carts here." Lol @ "they".

"Do you have shopping carts here?" Yeah, you just told the lady that they were all outside.

"How long will it be until we can shop?" As long as it takes you to go grab a cart, you lazy bastard - about 30 seconds, max.

"I can't believe there are no shopping carts." Inside, you can't believe there are no shopping carts inside.

That's not the worst of it. No, the real travesty is that his son was with him. Yep, he just showed his son how to be a total crybaby pussy. Though I'm sure his son already had a pretty good grasp on that schtick.

Walk your white ass out to the parking lot, grab a goddamn shopping cart, and buy some goddamn groceries. This isn't Club Med, bro. This is the real world.

Holy crap, when I went grocery shopping with my dad when I was a kid, it was less grocery shopping and more a bloodbath. I'll never forget how many times I heard my mom yelling at us as we left: "YOU DON'T NEED ALL THOSE GUNS TO GO TO THE GROCERY STORE".


Sadly, the trip ended with the ultimate PUMP DOWN: me dropping almost $100 :( Whatevs, we got TONS of food for the week! PUMP!


As with any good PUMP, you gotta ask yourself, did you leave with more PUMP than you came with? I know I did.


Monday, July 11, 2011

mlk is too asian

Not sure if you noticed the light shitstorm (lol, light) last week about an MLK Jr. sculpture that apparently appears to be "too Asian". Yes, people are saying that Dr. King looks too Asian. The sculpture, not the actual dude. Uhhhh, I bet none of those weirdos have ever lurked any of the million adult streaming video sites, searched "Asian", and enjoyed the results privately.


I mean, the dude who did the sculpture was Asian, would it be that shocking if the sclupt had a little AZN in 'im? In all the awesome drawings I've done, it's been all white people getting brutally killed, and I don't hate white people!

But that actual thing is going to wind up in Portland, between a couple other sculptures of (non)Asian dudes - T-Jeffy and Abe-Linkz. And MLK is going to TOWER over their respective diminutive busts.

Just going out on a limb, but what if somebody said something looked too Black, too African, too gay, too Mexican? I don't think that would go over "too well". Some descriptors are taboo, some aren't, just depends on whose version of PC we're using. I guess "too Asian" hasn't registered in that exclusive taboo list yet.

Maybe next year, Yao!

Like obviously when something crappy happens to me, it's not uncommon to hear me complaining, "that's gay" or "that's black". But now I'm totz going to start the "you totally got Asian'd there, bro".

I was fishing last week and caught a huge fish, but right as I was about to grab it, the line snapped - JAPAN'D

Came home from work early to find my wife in bed with a(nother) (yellow) man - CHINA'D

Drove 7 hours to my brother's house and totally attacked him with a nailgun - HONG KONG'D HARD AS FERK BRO

Wife mouthin' off again so I HIROSHIMA'D HER ASS.

Yeah it's not so funny now is it, PC twinks?

Didn't think so.

Almost forgot, you decide if the sculpture is too Asian-looking (sculpture is on the right).

Some are saying the sculpture looks "too confrontational". The obvious question is: what exactly is "too confrontational" - 'specially for a guy who liked the sauce almost as much as he liked the fairer sex? Not knockin' it, just sayin'.

Looks pretty bad ass to me. Shoot, if you're going to immortalize me in stone, I'd love to look that awesome. Actually, I'd love to actually be made out of stone, The Thing-style. Crushin' dudes on the reg, ya smell me.

But seriously, can't a dude cross his arms without being confrontational? I do it all the time and I'm not confrontational at all, well actually nevermind, I am. Besides, I think if I was somewhere in his struggle back then, I would have been a little more than "cross my arms confrontational". I woulda jumped fitty years into the future and been all "flash mob confrontational". Crank that.

Last thing I wanted to touch on is MLK's son, and his praise of the sculpture: "this particular artist -- he's done a good job."

Probably kind of hard to argue with that.

Also, some semi-related lols. Unfortunately I found myself reading The Root (click any article and/or read the comments for unlimited unintentional hilarity, or save a hundred million brain cells and don't). Anyway, they found some research about how chicks with lighter skin got shorter jail sentences than chicks with darker skin.

OK I get that, fuck The Root, but the picture they used to show dark vs light skinned women was hilarious.

Ugly chick vs. pretty chick. I bet the researchers didn't account for that. 'Slike saying that the guilty spend more time in jail than the innocent.

REALITY CHECK, WEIRDOS, you're not gonna find Judge HYM blastin' the defendant cause she's ugly. Listen, we don't care whether you're light or dark, just GTFO if you're ugly. That's not asking too much, is it?


Don't worry, we'll be back on HUMP DAY with a white guilt-fuel'd PUMPFEST.

Friday, July 8, 2011


Today we're going to talk about the cooking show, MasterChef, and how insane it is.

First, the premise: a bunch of contestants competing against each other to (I think) open their own restaurant or write a gay cookbook or something, I don't know.

Not one Giada, Rachel Ray or Padma - this show sticks you with three douchey buttslut bros that lack any type of wit, originality or redeeming value. Apparently they're world class chefs or restaurateurs. What does that even mean, world class?

Say one of these shitdicks is getting in your face on the street, yelling at you about some stupid crap they sure as heck can't do any better, are you just going to sit there all meek and shit with your thumb up your ass?

You? Yeah, you probably would, but let's take a look at these fruit loops from left to right, and see what we're dealing with here.

Left - Joe Bastianich. What is your name? Sounds french/foreign/shitty. One time, in an episode where the contestants were asked to recreate a former winner's dish, by only tasting it and then trying to decipher each of the 29 ingredients, he verbally lashed out at a wayward contestant: "You know when you go to a restaurant and order the same dish because you know what you're going to get? Then one time you go and there's a new chef, and you order your usual dish and it's not the same? That's the most disappointing thing you can experience."

Wait what? He didn't even say the dish tasted worse lol. Though I can get behind the general sentiment of different being worse ifuknowutimean. Srsly, if a situation like that is the most disappointing thing you can experience, that's pretty messed up.

Middle - Gordon Ramsay. Dude, you spell your name wrong - it's RamsEy. And if that's not enough, you merely stole Simon Cowel's shtick, just moving it into the kitchen. Anyone can be an asshole to subordinates, a real man is an asshole to his wife, children and superiors. Often times the meanest loudmouths are the most harmless, but your face is kind of fucked up looking - you may have been around the block a time or two.

Also, nice hair, douche.

Right - Graham Elliot, look below.

If you (kind reader) are ever at a point in your life where this guy is in a position to yell at, berate or look down on you, you're probably pretty fucked. Look at him. Hey, Tubby Lumpkins, you make Guy Fieri look cool. Ok, that's not true, but you do make that pud from Man vs Food look like he has a personality.

Listen Fatty, you want to mouth off to some idiot trying to be a cook, that's cool, but why don't you mouth off to a real man and see how long it takes before I shove a fucking apple in your mouth and throw you on the spit.

Bottom line: food is not an art; food preparation is not a contest. Just throw some goddamn chicken in the oven and cook your brussels sprouts in the microwave and get the hell out of my face.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011


Wow, don't even know where to start.

So I'll start with this:

Yeah, that's me. And my fishfriend. Not a fishfuck:

Great song, but Mom I hope you didn't listen! It's kinda gross!

So yeah, that was me catching my first fish in over ten years!

While we're on the topic of awesome things, check out this awesome song from the 90's that I just remembered was awesome. Shoutout to my friend **** ****** for always blasting this song, and yeah, 15 years later, it's pretty sweet.

Huge PUMP right there.

So we spent a long weekend up north in northern Michigan, on Lake Huron. It was sweet.

If you can picture me at my most PUMPED, and multiply that by the 6 of us that made the trek, add in the other 10-15 or so people we chilled with that were already up there, you can imagine the size, scope and intensity of this 4 day bender PUMP.

Got there about 8:30PM and dude had pizza waiting for us at the cabin. Went to check out the lake, water was fuckin' freezing, and immediately switched into freak mode.

FYI, freak mode = get loaded at the campfire and light off fireworks then shoot them out of slingshots and/or throw them in the fire pit.


You ever done a bottle-rocket-beer-chug before? No?


I cracked open a cold one (, dawg), stuck a bottle rocket in the can, lit it, then chugged it after it went off. Only the thing is, I bought the cheap bottle rockets, so it didn't even launch out of the goddamn can. Nah, it just chilled in my beer, spewing ash and soot all over the top of the can, and then went off still standing in the can. Fuggit, I chugged that beer like a champ anyway.

My wife yelled at me for that one.

Only thing that would have made it better: This following song blaring at 11. So PUMPED to interrupt my PATRIOT PUMP with a little reveling in mid-90's punk rock!

We did some fishing, got swarmed by a black fly invasion, went oveWAIT WHAT A BLACK FLY INVASION?

Yeah, the six of were taking a nice walk down the beach to the fishing hole, rather four of us, with two taking the canoe. Should have seen the foreshadowing when the two in the canoe flipped it lol.

To get to the fishing hole, we had to cross a small river, no biggie. But shortly after crossing the river, I noticed a shitload of flies swarming me. Literally patches of flies on my leg, shoulders, body, so gross. I started running for the fishing hole to get in the water, and then I heard the screaming: everybody else was getting attacked too.

It was a clusterferk of swatting at flies, fishing poles being swung around, bug spray being sprayed everywhere, girls screaming. Shocked that nobody died.

When it was all said and done, I found myself in the water at the fishing hole, one dude was in the canoe, things died down a little, and everybody else ran back to the cabin lol. So we fished for twenty minutes, caught a huge BASS, and right as I was about to grab it, it snapped the line and swam away with my hook stuck in its mouth. Screw you, fish.

Unfortunately the dude with the tackle box bolted. So I ran the mile back to the cabin, chased and swarmed by flies. Truly miserable.

I couldn't believe he had time to snap a picture of me with his iPhone. Thanks ****!

So weird, never seen anything like it in my life. Would have been a huge UNPUMP, but I MANNED THE PUMP UP, FISHED AND ALMOST HAD A HUGE BASS IN MY HAND.

The last day was beautiful, so we were on the beach all day. Dude busted out the jetski, we went tubing, Heckyeahwoman tubed hard as a muh - it was awesome.

Long story short, it was awesome and we all spent like 4 days extremely PUMPED and hating nature.

Now it's back to the UNPUMP of reality.

Monday, July 4, 2011



2008 called and they want their patriotic, photoshopped bikini shot back!

Friday, July 1, 2011

this is what's wrong with america vol 1

Imagine my surprise when I was lurking and saw an article with a headline that said something like, "Kiddie Pools Kill".


Has there been a rash of Kiddie Pool killings?

Have Kiddie pools suddenly become self aware?

Are Kiddie Pools now hellbent on slaying children?

Nah, just some kids drowning in kiddie pools. Of course once you click on the article, you realize that's not the gist of the article, though it still kind of is.

Now I don't want to make light of parents losing a child, cause I imagine it's pretty tragic. But how THE FUCK DO YOU DROWN IN A FOOT OF WATER?

And if you're small enough to drown in that little bit of water, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE?

My bad, the parents weren't paying attention. So it's not like "Kiddie Pools" are orchestrating a nationwide string of kid-murders. That headline was kinda misleading.

I was a kid once, and we had kiddie pools growing up. In fact my brother and I had that shit poppin' and packed with neighborhood slores, ages 5-8 or so. Shoot, we crammed upwards of 10 kids into a kiddie pool most summer afternoons, mostly chicks too. My bro and I were macking broads in our pool before we were even old enough to know what macking on broads was.

And you know what? Not one of us drowned. Let me tell you why.

Every time my brother or I even thought about drowning, my dad was right there, hand full of our hair, holding us by our heads yelling at us that drowning is for pussies and he didn't raise no pussies.

Then we got a real pool. A real in-ground swimming pool, much more dangerous than some little kiddie pool. And nobody died in that pool either.

Because when my parents told us to get out of the water, they knew that we would get out, wait for them to go inside, and then creep back in.

So the minute they went inside, they waited a second, turned around, and busted our asses. It was like they knew, man.

That whole parents watching their kids and being responsible thing.

Also, my parents had us take swimming lessons really young. I remember the guy that gave us the lessons was a weirdo lol.

Why this article isn't two sentences, I'll never know. The first sentence should be the stat of how many kids die each summer, the second should be a simple, "Parents need to watch their children at all times when they're in the pool."

Then maybe a little footnote about how all MILFs are required to wear tiny bikinis. MOTORBOATIN' TIME!