Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Happy Birthday!
Happy Birthday, little brother
I wouldn't trade you for another
Though I've tried many, many times before
Their offers were weak, and I'm holding out for more
Two bubble gum wrappers and a used paper clip
It's the highest offer I've got, and I'm considering it
But then I think of all, you bring to the table
And to pull the trigger on this deal, I wouldn't be able
Your the coolest brother, far and away
Striving to finish the 24 pack, in a matter of one day
Attending college, don't know your major
But we do know you hold the secret, to drinking large quantities of Jager
Introduced me to, the Menudo handshake
Quite an interesting way to masterbate?
Probably got it from one of the boys, down at the Fleet & Farm
Hopefully the rumors of lifetime employment, is just a false alarm
You've worked the gate, been in charge of mixing paint
Handled every last ornery customer's craziest complaint
The register's not for everyone, it can get quite complex
But after your next big promotion, it might be next
Your chocolate chip cookies are tasty and always tingle the olfactory senses
Can't believe you hit a homer in Senior League that actually cleared the fences
You've got big muscles and can usually sport some healthy scruff
You sometimes look like uncle Alan, without the "wuff"
You're always welcome to pass out at my place, when you've had too much to drink
But all I ask, is that your reserve your vomit for the can or the sink
I hear you've been experimenting with driveways and city curbs
That's usually around the bend, when you start slurring your words
So now you're twenty three and only a year behind me
Very glad you survived that big head surgery
We've had a lot of good times, so glad you're my brother
Sucks you had to walk in on dad, doing our mother
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Draft #21
What kind of girls you like?
-I tend to lean towards brunettes with curves who like sports.
Who is your favorite Harry Potter character?
-If you ever catch me watching a Harry Potter movie, please do me a favor and kill me immediately, something went terribly wrong.
Do you kick ass?
-Usually right before I take names, yes. Actually the answer is no, I don't kick ass, at all.
Are you in love?
-Yes, with provolone cheese. We've learned to love each other over the years and she pleases me like none other. And Brick, I also love lamp.
What is your future job?
-Whatever lands on my lap and keeps my head above water. Dreams are for people with hope.
If the world was anime, how would you look?
-I had to look up what anime was, and apparently it's some sort of Japanese animation. Having said that, I would look ravishing. I'd have a mysterious side to me that would otherwise be missing in the all American look I currently sport.
Who is your perfect match?
-I don't have a match, I walk this earth alone. (cue the violin maestro)
What would your prom dress look like?
-Definitely low cut and strapless, ...........I mean, why would you ask me such a question, I am not the gay?
Who is your celebrity twin?
-I get Tobey Maguire a lot. And by a lot, I mean at least three different strangers have made the comparison to me. The masses have spoken.
What is your disorder?
-If someone were to actually sit down and analyze my behavior, I'd be diagnosed with a boat load of disorders, too many to mention I'd presume.
What are you?
-I am, without a doubt, the most huggable person on earth. If you don't believe me, ask my mom.
How bad ass are you?
-I once beat up a kid at Wingate Park. At least that's what the legend says, I was actually being pursued by this kid from a distance (I kept calling him something that made him mad) and when he finally reached me, I stepped aside and managed to trip him and before he could get up to beat the living tar out of me, (which he could have very easily done) we were seperated by a couple of on lookers. My friends and I ran away like little girls, and from this day forward the legend continues to grow. I believe the current story has me body slamming the kid seven times before I bloodied his face with a few roundhouse rights.
What's your fighting style?
-I'm a big fan of the rabbit or donkey punch, but as my sensei once said, only use them for good, or when approached by the drunk and angry.
What musician will you marry?
-As soon as Sara Evans divorces her husband, I will be next in line. She is so flippin hot, it ain't even funny.
What type of shoe fits your personality?
-I am the Reebok Pump. Full of hot air and my fame will be short lived, and I will eventually get replaced by Larry Johnson's Converse with React Juice.
Which Disney character are you most like?
-I've got a little Goofy in me. Ah shucks! Does Goofy even say that?
What's your theme song?
-Eye of the Tiger, it's the only thing that keeps me going when I get that pain in my side and I'm about to keel over during the first quarter mile stretch of a 5k run.
Are you hot enough?
-For the women in the bars who are drunk and desperate, possibly. To those who see me in broad sober daylight, not so much.
What name suits you?
-Stud, stud muffin, studly, super stud, stud of the month, stud-a-baker, stud-o-matic, stud in the mud.......I think you get it.
What does your birth month reveal about you?
-Besides the fact that my parents got it on nine months before my birthdate, not much.
Your favorite holiday?
-Assuming my birthday doesn't count, then I'd say it would have to be Christmas. But with each passing year, it's getting pretty depressing, so the fourth of July may be gaining ground in this category, hicks wielding semi-legal dynamite sticks, the possibilities are endless.
How do people look at you?
-They look at me as if they are saying to themselves, "Who let this tiger out of his cage?" That is as accurate as I can describe the look I get from people.
How are you going to die?
-Hopefully in a blaze of glory or in my sleep, anything other than that, will come as a disappointing surprise. As long as I can avoid being burned, stabbed, drowned, mauled by wild animals, tossed in a pool of acid (variant of being burned I guess, just liquid form), raped, choked, dismembered, beaten, or lectured, I should be ok with that.
What element do you resemble?
-I've always been a huge fan of boron.
What's your soda?
-Sprecher root beer or cream soda. Apparently it's my roommate's favorite as well, he borrows about a bottle a week from me, but that's O.K.
What is your ideal perfect lover?
-The kind that is easy to please and comes back for more, and I'm talking to the ladies of course!
What type of candy are you?
-I am a ball of popcorn. Round, sticky, hard, and fun to eat.
What are you the angel of?
-I am the angel of frozen pizza. In heaven you'll find DiGiorno's, Jack's Natural Rising, and Freschetta stuffed crust. In hell, the damned will include Tombstone, Orv's, and anything sold from an Aldies grocery store that is pizza or pizza related.
What is your true emotion?
-Pure roller coaster.
How old are you?
-Old enough to know I'm old.
What quote fits you?
-"Is that sex panther you're wearing?"
What lies beneath your smile?
-The pain of a hundred broken hearts, and a fake laugh.
Where do you draw your energy?
-From the breakfast table! Rice Krispies on Monday, Cheerios on Tuesday, Wheaties on Wednesday, Frosted Mini-wheats on Thursday, and Lucky Charms on Friday. Oh, and a glass of O.J. to accompany each bowl.
What attacts women to you?
-Must be the sex panther?
Who's smarter, you or President Bush?
-I ......am so smart, I....... am so smart, S-M-R-T. (Homer Simpson)
What is the mystical land of your birth?
-I'm not sure Menomonee Falls is all that mystical?
What type of friend are you?
-The kind that speaks when spoken to.
What type of teen are you?
-I was a real rebel in my youth, rules didn't apply to this renagade.
What element do you control?
-I used to be able to control my bladder, but even that is becoming tricky in my old age. Kids, don't turn 24, it just keeps getting worse.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Draft #20
Time to make the doughnuts? Nope, time to name the baby. My sister is currently knocked up courtesy of, your guess is as good as mine, I'm still skeptical as to whether or not my brother-in-law is capable of such an enormous feat. And yes, she is married (no bastards in my family, assuming little brother can keep his hand out of the cookie jar). Big sister is about three months along, so I figured it was time to start brain storming ideas for possible names for the future first born of the "Bod" (My bro-in-law's nickname). The only rule in this brain storming exercise is that we are looking for creative names that most likely do not exist. The inspiration for this endeavour comes from Natalie Portman's character in the movie, Garden State. Only in this instance, if my sister is foolish enough to select one of these names, this poor child's original moment will last a lifetime.
Boys names:
-Rumple Stills
-Strogenhoff (nickname Beef or Beefy)
-Smolder
-Frush (what the fuck's a frush?)
-Amodd
-Tomy (pronounced Tah-me)
-Harmonious
-P.U. (Peter Uranium)
-F.U. (Francis Uganius)
-Harelein
-Jimblejumbles
-Kankerso
-Intestdan
-Seconspleaz (Incase it ends up being a fatty)
-Brogan
-Needledeek
-Humperton
-Dadson (it's true, he would be)
-Dorrmatthew (nickname Dorrmatt)
-Leakinsheet
-Trypodney (nickname Tripod)
-Muskus
-Spairibs
-Mulletow
-Stuftkust
-Spensbian
-Hugh (middle name Janus)
-Huskey
-Motorcylceman
-Tagenow (but his friends call him Tags)
-Maxferger
-Plow
-Heynow
-Skud (Why do they call you Skud? Skud- Wanna see my missle?)
-Optimus Prime
-Bona (middle name Fide)
Girls names:
-Lousah Kook
-Hourtney
-Cournapoket
-Shmelly
-Hildawirl
-Sharonadon'ta
-Flemma
-Orangugladis
-Carmellatoe
-Cumzintoos (nickname Cumzie)
-Dots
-Annasest
-Jinorma (middle name Chesta)
-Pentamula
-Skretchon (middle name Marx)
-Vestibule
-Himberly
-Hennifer
-Courvasia
-Trix
-Aintshe (middle name Inowing)
-Miffsie
-Amison (middle name Womin)
-Fooks (middle name Frofree)
-Hoolahoop
-Bartha
-Bloomer
-Tits McGee (Thanks Mr. Burgandy)
-Henrea (sounds like a disease)
-Hochimona
-Beacup
-Ornesta
-Bichnmoan
-Notaman
-Igloonia
-Higina
-Vibretta
On a serious note, the world lost a good one, when Karate Kid star, Mr. Miyagi past away over this holiday weekend. We here at Hucklebuck only hope that he died waxing on because nobody wants to meet their maker while waxing off. That would be a terribly embarrassing way to go.
On a not so serious note, I passed out leaning on my bed on Thanksgiving Eve with my pants at my ankles. My brother was kind enough to snap a photo of the occurrence. And as a cool down, the Friday after Thanksgiving, my dinner included two grilled stuffed burritos, a cheesy gordita crunch, a bag of popcorn (I had to eat something while waiting for the pizza to cook) and six pieces of pizza. Hang in there arteries, hang in there.
Here's a line to use when you finally see someone that you haven't seen for awhile. "So..........when the aliens obducted you, did they just go straight to the probing, or did they run some preliminary tests first?"
How about that Ron Dayne? Could he have looked any less excited to have been named the game's MVP on Thanksgiving? I would have done a lot better job on that blueberry cobbler during the postgame interview. I would have had blueberry smeared all over the sides of my mouth, and I would have asked Phil Simms for his mama's recipe while still trying to shovel more cobbler down. Livin up Ron, you missed a chance to market yourself as Ron "blueberry stain" Dayne. But still, you done Wisconsin proud Ron. Besides the jalapeno cheddar beefsticks I purchased from the gas station, your performance was probably the highlight of my Thanksgiving day!
Is there anyway for a guy to hold an umbrella without looking gay?
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Draft #19
When you think of Christmas, eventually the image of jolly old Santa Claus pops into your head, and the same could be said for the Easter Bunny when thinking of Easter. But what about Thanksgiving? Is there a fictitious character for this popular holiday? I can't seem to think of any off hand. There is the whole pilgrams and indians thing, but I don't see any chocolate versions of these characters being sold during the holidays, so they do not count. Whether there was such a thing as indians and pilgrams, well.......... we'll let the bureaucrats decide that one. For now, we'll just focus our efforts on finding a true Thanksgiving mascot. An icon that can span the next few centuries as the real face of the spirit of the holiday.
Lets face it folks, times have changed. The days of giving thanks and sharing with friends and family have long since died. We as people appreciate very little and are always searching for ways to get our hands on more. Now you may be thinking to yourself, not me, I always gather with family on Thanksgiving and we share recipes, hugs, and smiles, and the like. While that may be true, there is also a good chance that you can be found delivering one of your famous forearm shivers to unsuspecting shoppers at Walmart at 5am the next morning just so you can get your hands on that anniversary edition of Battleship. And again, you might be saying, no, still not me, I'm thankful and always avoid department stores the morning after Thanksgiving. And that also may be the truth, but perhaps you are that jealous sister or brother that can't stand seeing your siblings on the holidays because of your massive inferiority complex, always checking out what they are driving, wearing, or cooking, and comparing it to yourself. You can't enjoy the moment because you're already wondering how you are going to top them at next years gathering.
So we are a selfish people, it's human nature, no need to fight it. I believe our new character should embody that spirit of our current generation. Along with that spirit, two other elements need to be addressed. A good holiday character needs a patented gift to deliver to all the boys and girls of this fair land and a patented way of delivering it. Santa delivers presents at night through the chimney and the Easter Bunny some how drops off baskets of candy to your house while you're at church, never quite grasped that whole phenomenon (Do rabbits have thumbs?). Anyway, the turkey will be hard to phase out as a symbol, so we might have to brainstorm some name ideas for a turkey character. Gobbles the turkey, Turkey Tyrone, oh I got it, Turk the Jerk. Turk will be a spokesperson for all the holiday haters out there that just try to make it through the holidays like it were a dance recital they were forced to attend. Everyone knows somebody like that, right?
So here's the finished, not so thought through product. Our character will be named Turk the Thanksgiving Jerk (Turk the Jerk for short). Kids, you get Santa, the Easter bunny, St. Nick, birthdays, and summers off, you get enough, this is for all you disgruntled, most likely single, grownups out there that almost vomit with the very mention of the holiday season. So TJ's (even shorter nickname) calling card will be to take a taxi around town, (since the man revoked his license for drunk driving) stopping at all the houses of those with no Thanksgiving spirit. These spirit-less bastards are then instructed to leave an unpaid bill underneath their front door and TJ will come by at night and stamp it with his magic turkey leg, thus comping the whole bill. Those of you who enjoy the regular time honored tradition of Thanksgiving, please continue to do so, but for those of us without a family to come home to, or if you do, are just simply not welcome, then may Turk the Jerk make all of your Thanksgiving dreams come true! The taxi bill will then be divided among all of the managers who never seem to have to work two days before and two days after the holiday, while we're slaving away picking up the slack.
Well that's all for today boys and girls, mom wants me to have my Christmas list made out before I come home for Thanksgiving, so I better get started!
Monday, November 21, 2005
Draft #18
This past weekend was T's birthday celebration. The football team reserved a couple of suites at the Residence Inn, in anticipation for the alcohol abuse that would follow our big third place game. A few of the team members arrived to the 1pm game with a slight buzz, and perhaps that would explain the 23-7 hole we found ourselves in at halftime. After soaking up some more "refreshments" at the half, we were ready for some mo football. The second half was highlighted by a girl on the opposing team. After dropping a pass, she fell to the ground where her pants managed to fall down her legs to about mid thigh, thus exposing her thong. Now there were two elements that made this play special. A) The girl was a young attractive female, and B) the thong this girl was wearing closely resembled the stuff I use to floss my teeth, if and when I choose to do so. My first reaction to seeing the girl's ass was, "Whoa"! The opposing receiver noticed that I had noticed, and he was like "Yeah!" The guy could have been the girls boyfriend, but I doubt it, it would take more than what he's got, to handle an ass like that. Our defense put the hammer down in the second half, intercepting three passes, and setting up the offense with some decent field position. The Refugees, as we are referred to, ended up winning the game by a touchdown, securing the third place crown.
After visiting the team sponsor, Fitzgibbon's, for greasy food and cold beer, it was time to head back to the hotel for more of the same. Nothing too spectacular happened that night. The next morning though, I had a dirty trick played on me by a guy, who the night before, managed to get a girl's number despite having a boogie hanging from his schnoz. The booger man, as he is now referred to, decided that it would be cool to drop ass just before boarding an elevator. My brother and two other individuals (who didn't know about the present booger man had just dropped) were in the elevator with him, holding the door, waiting for me to get in. I politely explained that I would wait for the next elevator (I couldn't see a reason why I would volunteer to stand in that stench for six flights). So I took the stairs and when I arrived to the room I noticed that my brother and booger man were laughing it up and having a good time. As it turns out, the two other guys in the elevator noticed the stench as well, and booger man pinned the whole thing on me, citing that my farting was the reason I didn't get on the elevator. Besides that, being a rotten thing to do, how dumb were those two other guys in the elevator to think that a fart could be so potent that it could be passed on the lobby floor, attach to the nearest person, and follow that person up six stories. It was a shame that booger man couldn't fess up to his crime, and even a greater shame, that he had to pass the blame on to an innocent bystander. Shame on you booger man, shame on you.
While we were checking in, I noticed the hotel had a "no party" policy. I rather enjoyed the looks my brother was gettting as he came strolling in with a bottle of Jack in one hand and case of cola in the other. The other ten of us were carrying similar items along with blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows. I'm not sure what else we could have done to signify that we were indeed planning on partying. I guess the only thing that would be more blatant than what we did, is to come waltzing in with electric guitars hanging from our chest and a drum set dragging behind. Granted we're far from hardcore, but we did break the rules, and for a guy who generally breaks a sweat just considering the thought of jaywalking, this was a very "on the edge" type experience. Just knowing a guy with a flashlight could have knocked down our doors, and shit on our parade, had me feeling a bit like James Dean or something. I'm sure if Johnny-flashlight tried to break up the party, I would have stepped to the forefront, tossed my cigarette aside, looked that stiff in the face, and told him to sit on it patsie, this don't concern you. I would have proceeded to give him some ideas as to what he could do with his flashlight, then calmly remind him to make sure to check in with his mama, before I tuck him in for the night. That scenario never played out, but the others were lucky I was around just in case. Never mind the fact that I passed out around 10:30 or 11:00, that doesn't make me any less of a hard ass, I came to, in time to see USC intercept a pass in the endzone against Fresno State to clinch the game, and I'm convinced that the Packers should throw every game for the rest of the season just to get their hands on some Bush. This Bush may have some miles on it, but any Bush is good Bush when you're sitting in the cellar.
I would just like to leave you with some holiday tips to help make your Thanksgiving an enjoyable one.
10. Paper plates. If you don't have any, then refuse to wash the dishes, tell the women pecking in your ear that the pilgrams didn't wash dishes.
9. Make sure to eat seconds, maybe thirds, or whatever it takes to break your normal threshold.
8. Assuming step nine was completed, then the nap that follows will be extra sweet.
7. Drink plenty of wine. Drowns out unwanted conversation from unwelcome family members, and makes bad food taste marginally acceptable.
6. Remove that belt and watch as much football as possible. Placing bets with family members tends to sweetin the action.
5. Pumpkin pie is out, pumpkin cheesecake pie is in. If you've never had it, tell the maid, soup kitchen, mom, grandma, or the wife, to get on it.
4. Gravy is the solution to all things sweet, bitter, dry, and unappealing to the eye. Slather it on.
3. Two words, stretchy pants.
2. If there is snow on the ground, nothing beats a good old fashioned game of toss the snowball in the gutter on the fly from thirty yards away.
1. If you find yourself in a situation where everybody has to say what they are thankful for, here's a few suggestions in case you can't think of anything.
- Thank God we have plenty of wine -I'm thankful for Bush's new tax reform program -I'm thankful for another year of (fill in the blank with the name of oldest aunt/uncle in the family, or whoever is closest to death) -I'm thankful for Glade air spray (while looking directly at the person who recently stanked up the bathroom with a nasty number two) -I'm thankful for the rise and eventual fall of communism (should leave them scratching their heads) - I love lamp -I'm thankful for the good people who make Coolwhip, God knows they've been helping to mask your mother's "famous" apple pie for years -I'm thankful for the judicial system because without it, we'd all just be a bunch of monkies tossing feces at each other -I'm thankful this just ain't a pretty face -I'm thankful for aunt Mildred's ingenuity, her mustard and Cheetos stuffing was absolutely delightful.
Have a great Thanksgiving and remember to put some sugar on that gravy baby!
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Draft #17
An interview with Hans: A man of confusion
Name: Hans Dindlefluter
Sex: I'm a 100%, grade A, stud muffined, all-American beef cake, with a slight allergy problem
Age: Old enough to drink, gamble, screw, and rent a car.
Height: Tall
Weight: Kind of round, but not too doughy
Special features: Little hans, my harry back, and my mysterious birth defect
City: Mudflap Valley, Pennsylvania
Occupation: Independent Shadow Puppeteer
Sexual preference: Man, as long as it has boobies, the downstairs can be whatever you've got. If the front door ain't workin, I'll just use the back one.
Hobbies: Tickling animals, smoking my pipe, wearing a monocle, shuffling trailmix in my hand before I eat it, Shoots and Ladders, making pancakes, swimming the backstoke, and wildlife magazines.
Favorite farm animal: Not a fan, but I do like goats, for they are rather good at keeping secrets.
Greatest life achievements: Graduating Shadow Puppet school, my first three marriages, and my AA graduation certificate.
What do you look for in a woman: What-a-ya got? Just kidding. I like sturdy knees.
Favorite date: As long as it ends up back at my place, and we get to play the x-rated version of my favorite board game, it's called Shoots and Splatters.
Favorite fruit: I like apples cuz they're crunchy and juicy and mix well with rum.
What do you look for in a woman/man: Whatever mixes well with rum. First come, first serve.
Your best pickup line: Baby you're so hot, what-a-ya say we go back to my place and I show you how to do the Hans-o-matic two pump thunder trot.
Number of times your best line worked: Defined "worked". I think it works just fine. Don't see anyone cone-plane-in, do ya.
Coke or Pepsi: The captain don't care, and nor do I.
Are you an ass, breast, or leg man: Oh, that's a toughy. Well let's see, the ass gives ya something to hold on to, and the breasts give the eyes something to watch, but legs.........That just gives um something to run away with.
Southern bell or man eater: How's about a Southern eater. Hell I'll even take the bellman if he winks twice at me.
What's the first thing you notice on a woman: Whether or not her thighs might have the potential to rip a man's head clean off his body.
This was just an aweful post, my apologies to the gallery.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Draft #16
Sometimes customized license plates make us stop and wonder, what the heck are these people trying to convey to us. For example, ILKEBZS. This person may have a thing for bees. So are you into pain? Does being stung by hundreds of bees turn you on like nothing else can? Or, are you simply just a fan of their work and enjoy suckling from the sweet, sweet teet of the honey jar. In any event, the fact that you like bees so much, that you went as far as personalizing your license plate to brag about it, is a little disturbing. So you are a dentist, that's great, ICLNTFF, is a shitty way of telling us about it. We don't care, and nobody asked. The following is a list of personalized license plates and a brief explanation for each.
Custom Plates
1. H8TKIDS- This person doesn't like kids. If he is married, with kids of his own, then this is a ballzy move deserving of an award of some kind. His kids will probably find themselves in theropy at some point in their lives, or maybe this driver doesn't have kids and he would just prefer everyone else fellow suit.
2. I8YOMOM- Apparently this individual has had oral sexual relations with YOUR mother, and now everybody knows about it. Quite frankly, if someone provided that kind of service to my mom, i'd prefer to a) not hear about it at all, or b) please come up with a better way of breaking the news to me if you actually have to brag about it.
3. ILVBUSH- This means one of two things, at least at first glance, could mean something else. This driver is a huge fan of either president George W. Bush or his father George Bush, which would leave me to believe that he is a Republican. Any other interpretations of this license plate have totally passed over this author's head.
4. OWAYSHI- This driver is what is referred to as a pothead. He's always high because he loves smoking weed. The car this license plate is attached to, is most likely a piece of shit on wheels moving way below the speed limit, heading towards the nearest seven-eleven, so look out.
5. UPYOURS- Not much to decipher here. This person is probably a crazy driver who likes cutting people off in traffic, and doesn't care what you think about it. In fact he is so sick of your whining after he cuts you off, that he'd prefer you just go and cram it, way up there!
6. BENTOVR- I'm going to assume this is a female driver, a slutty female driver with a killer ass. She is so proud of her killer ass that she felt the need to announce the position she can most commonly be found in, whether she's dancing on stage, or performing for her boyfriend. It's either that, or a guy who's just been taking shit from his boss for years, and has come up with a creative way to demonstrate his hatred towards the man.
7. TINYTIT, TNEGINY, LILPEWE- These are all people who are interested in sharing the fact that they have small body parts. For some on them, that is a good thing, for others, not quite sure why we are sharing this info, but whatever, who am I to judge?
8. RAMRODR, SOYHOMO, FUJPAKR- These guys probably wouldn't mind being sent to jail, spending their days making license plates and enjoying all the nuances prison life has to offer. Apparently, one of these licensed drivers has a little latino background, muy bueno!
9. IMPLOWD- This driver is a raging alcoholic who didn't put much thought into the customizing of his license plate.
10. HANDJOB -This person either really likes to give or receive, or they are possibly a hand model or a dentist.
11. ISHOTJR- A hardcore Texan who's still living in the 80's.
12. FTLONGR- This driver would like all guys out there to know that no matter how much heat you're packing, his is still at least a foot longer. Or else, he's a golfer that left the putt of his career short by twelve inches and is having difficulties letting go.
13. PUDWAKR, MSTRB8R- This person has no shame.
14. GETRDUN- This driver decided to personalize his license plate a year ago and probably drives a truck and has quite the flannel shirt collection. Oh, and a mullet.
15. ILVCOWS- This could be a dairy farmer, someone who likes cheese, milk, and steaks, or this man has a wanker that tends to wander, Moooooo!!
16. NUNCHUX- Everyone respects a man with nunchucks. Everyone fears a man with nunchucks. Everyone wishes they had a sweet pair of nunchucks.
17. BLUBALZ- This poor man would like to get in contact with the driver in item number ten.
18. BUTR2TH- This person may also be in need of the services of the driver in item number ten, depending on who the driver in item number ten is. Or else, this driver may want to lay off of the coffee for a while and try brushing their teeth for a change.
19. HNGSOLW- Damn right it does!
20. GOTINHR- This guy has most likely slept with his fair share of women, or he is a very creepy gynecologist.
T-shirt slogan: "I got-er done, and it wunt fun"
Monday, November 07, 2005
Draft #15
We've all heard of fortune cookies, right? We'll I'd like it, if someone came up with a line of "Misfortune cookies". Fortune cookies are such a crock of bologna, and anyone who's lived on this planet long enough will be able to tell you. Life rarely hands you a fair deal, in fact, it will usually hand you more blows to the crotch than is physically possible to take. So all you people at the fortune cookie factory can stop warning me about all this good stuff that is heading my way because I'm not buying it! And maybe I'm being a little too pessimistic here, but come on, how many times will they get my hopes up, only to bash them back down with empty broken promises? Well enough is enough, and here are a few samples of some of the misfortunes I'd like to be warned about because it's about time the fortune cookie people started giving me some useful, practical, preventative advice on things that might actually happen to me.
Misfortunes Inc.
-You will drink heavily and awake in a strange place with your pants in an unknown part of town.
-The next girl you meet will be a man, and you will find out the hard way.
-That rash you are worried about is not a rash.
-Due to your homely facial features, you will die alone.
-Your 812th cigarette from now will be your last.
-Due to years of working in front of a computer, your genitals will be rendered useless, and reproduction will no longer be an option.
-They have photos of what you did, and soon you will be ruined.
-If you build it, they won't come. In fact, the funds it took to build it, will leave you bankrupt and looking for new employment.
-Your wife is a slut and the following people, besides you, are aware of it. Her old boyfriend, your best friend, your brother, mother, sister, mailman, and local governing authorities.
-Your home is currently in flames.
-Condoms and promises break, get yourself tested.
-Your inability to swim will lead to your eventual drowning.
-Quick tongue lead to fat lip.
-Monkey see, monkey do, thanks to your girlfriend's recent religious experience, your nuts will turn blue.
-That shooting pain in your finger is most likely fatal.
-Happy dream, wet bed, courtesy of, your uncle Fred.
-Hard on the outside, soft in the middle, once your done, you'll find it difficult to piddle.
-Hitch hiking, trucker dyking, your next ride will not be free.
-You fight like girl and this will lead to next bloody nose.
-Your boring personality will cause you to not be invited to the next company gathering.
-You currently reside in Montana.
-You've just won tickets to a WNBA game of your choice!
-In a few years, you will walk with a limp, and this will serve as a foreshadowing to your next misfortune.
-Your lifesize poster of Mr. Rogers will scare away your next potential lay.
-Joe Dimaggio had his 56 game hit streak, and you have your underwear.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Draft #14
Now I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be admitting this, but I was watching some soft core porn on Cinemax recently like any red blooded American, who just received three free months of access to this kind of programming, would do. This particular episode featured an Asian girl who was having trouble finding a decent guy. She shagged three different guys on three consecutive Fridays, but as luck would have it, none of them turned out to be prince charming. The first guy went home immediately after the act, claiming that he had to be home by 1:00 am or else is mother would get worried (Which is not a bad line to use if you're looking for an excuse to leave. Once she hears that, she'll think you're a loser and you'll be free to go). The second guy was married and the third guy was the reason for this entry. This third guy we'll refer to as Jason, and he reminded me of the guy on Saved by the Bell who was Kelly's manager at the Max. He and Kelly started dating, he was older than her, and something went wrong, don't quite remember. Jeff is the fellow on the left in the picture, his real name is Patrick Muldoon, not that it matters or anything, just using him to give you a visual of what Jason from the porno looked like. The Asian girl in the porn doesn't need a visual, she's Asian with big boobs and long legs (I can get away with saying that because my half third cousin knew someone who dated an Asian person so I can get away with the "they all look the same to me" line)
Although as I'm writing this, I'm beginning to grow very curious as to who this Ron guy is. He must be some sort of retarted photographer to the stars. Ron seems like the kind of guy at the party you can tell to go put is wanker in the bean dip, and he'll do it without blinking. That seems like a very friendly way to sign an autograph. I probably would have gone with, "Ron, keep those pants on buddy" -Patrick Muldoon, or "Ron, try knocking first" -PM, or maybe even, "Ron, I didn't know it was possible to make your own toothpaste" -PM.
Anyway, back to the porno. The Asian girl was in a slump and her friend decided to give her a coupon to an online dating service. So Mishu (again, the cousin, I have the right to give her an Asian sounding name because it's OK) decides to accept and as she's browsing (while eating a banana), she notices a familiar face from her high school days. This familiar face turns out to be Jason, the most arrogant man on the planet. Of course she clicks on his bio and all of a sudden he's at her door within minutes (accurate time of travel isn't too important in the porno industry, there's only so much time in a film and the audience wants the most humping for their dollar). So Mishu and Jason exchanged pleasantries for all of two minutes, Jason tells her, he always knew she wanted him and next thing you know, it's time to hump in the doorway. So Jason finishes up, and is on his way out just like the two guys before him.
Somehow Mishu convinces Jason to go on another date, and Jason shows up to the apartment ready to take his tie off after a long day at work. Mishu becomes upset and has a look on her face like, "You know the rules buddy, sex on the first date, dinner and sex on the next." Very classy that Mishu. So Jason's like, "I thought we'd just stay in and order Chinese." Mishu wasn't having any of that, as Jason is groping her. So unwillingly, Jason agrees to take Mishu out. But before the two leave, some interesting dialogue takes place.
Jason: You were pretty smart in high school, I thought you would have had a house by now or something.
Mishu: I've been saving up, I'm doing all right.
Jason: Yeah, I guess things don't work out for everybody. (He goes on about how successful he is, and how he knew she allows wanted him) Although I was surprised to hear from you, not having any luck with the guys?
Mishu: (feeling two inches tall) I guess not, it's nice to see you again though. Would you like anything to drink?
Jason: Yeah, do you have any single malt scotch?
Mishu: No, just beer and wine.
Jason: That figures, just forget it then, let's just go.
So the next scene has the two "love birds" sitting at their table in the restaurant.
Jason: I gave the maitre d' twenty dollars and this is the table he gives us? This is completely lousy.
Mishu: (starts flapping her trap about how the table isn't that bad when Jason interrupts)
Jason: (Whips out cell phone) Johnson, I want you staying late to redo that presentation, it's absolute crap! (slams down cellphone, and I personally couldn't believe that was the extent of that conversation)
So the waiter comes by and they order their drinks. Jason getting his signature single malt scotch, while Mishu orders some wine.
Jason: (spits out scotch in front of waiter) Hey, this isn't single malted, I ordered a single malt scotch! I"m not paying eight dollars for this crap!
Waiter: Absolutely not sir, you're paying ten dollars for it.
Mishu laughs and next thing you know she is back at her apartment stripping in front of the waiter who is about to be screw number four.
So to those of you out there, that say there's nothing good on TV anymore, may I submit exhibit A.
T-shirt slogan: "Drink rum till you're numb"
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Draft #13
Never has my utter inability to tackle been more on display than it was a couple of Saturday's ago. I play in a co-ed two hand touch football league in Milwaukee, and I experienced one of the more pathetic moments of my life. I knew I wasn't good at tackling, like real football tackling. And I've never played flag football, but I'm pretty sure I would find ripping a flag off a moving object to be a daunting task for this most coordinated of the coordinated. Luckily what I did wasn't done in the presence of any of my former high school football teammates or coaches because had that happened, I would have been laughed out of the state and been ridiculed enough in the seconds following the play to last me a lifetime (assuming they've already stopped laughing from the fact that I play football with girls).
So here we go, the infamous play at hand. I was on defense, we had switched to a man-to-man coverage because the zone we were attempting to play was being penetrated like hot butter through a wet paper bag. We were hurting, and couldn't even stop the town's geriatric ward if they came strolling through, literally strolling mind you. The receiver I was guarding ran a fifteen to twenty yard route and the quarterback dumped the pass off to one of the female receivers in the flat. So I left my man and started to pursue the ball carrier. This was no average ball carrier. This lady didn't fly like a butterfly or even sting like a bee, hell, she probably went about two bills plus fifty. Maybe not that big, but she was big, and was short, and she waddled, and was probably in her forties. As I was approaching her from her left, I remember thinking to myself, "Where am I going to tag this wildebeest?" It was either going to be in her massive chest, or right in her face. And in my moment of haste, the broad planted and cut across the direction I was moving, and I completely whiffed. She managed to truck another ten yards until the next defender was able to corral this rumbling rhino with a pigskin tucked firmly between her right boobie and beer gut. There wasn't a rock big enough to crawl under at this point, and I felt the shame of a hundred men who had just been caught with their pants at their ankles, watching scrambled porn. I got juked by a middle aged women and I'm pretty sure this elevator has reached the room that lies just below the basement. Should've gone with the three inch cleats!!
I guess I received another crushing blow about a week or so ago. I'm at work, minding my own business, when the operator who's located behind me, decides to ask one of those questions you should probably think twice about asking, if you're unsure of the answer you are about to receive. This question is up there with the, "Are you pregnant?" question. This lady had the sizeable sac to ask if yours truely was gay, as in homosexual. The flippin nerve of this lady!! I don't have an once of gay on me! Sure, I can cook, and I don't like it when my room is messy, and my voice can get a little high when I'm trying to be nice, and I've only had one girlfriend, and I'm not good with tools, and I'm not handy with the internal components of an automobile, and on casual Friday's I sometimes wear jean shorts that used to be jeans, but I cut into shorts with my own scissors. But other than that, where are these accusations coming from? You know, not every guy with stunning eyes and a barrelled chest can be assumed gay. It's just not fair. Any who, the switchboard is staffed predominately by females, and the accuser used to work in a different department at our company and apparently there used to be a gay, male operator before I started working here. Still, how much can one guy take, but I guess that would explain me not being able to tackle a slow moving object on a football field. I wasn't able to extend my limp wrists out fast enough or something.
I would also like to make it known that my roommate and I are holding open tryouts to anyone willing to clean our bathtub. For all of you detectives out there, my roommate is a male and he has a girlfriend, so back off. The tub is starting to turn colors and I'm having trouble identifying some of the bacterial formations. I think if we were to let this go any longer, unidentified life forms may start taking shape in there and it probably wouldn't be long until they started to form a civilization of sorts and took us as their prisoners. All you really need to qualify is a short pair of shorts and the ability to look good when bending over, and yes I'm referring to females. Apply in person only please, and thanks for your anticipated interest.
T-shirt slogan: "Who wants to do this buckaroo?"
