theHaitianActual v2.1

Questions that often cross my mind

2012-01-04T09:38:00.000-05:00

Why are there really only two options for delivery food?

Predominantly, we only have the option between Chinese or Pizza. I’ve had so much soy sauce this past year my asshole can practically speak Chinese. Why isn’t there Mexican delivery? If you think about it, Mexican delivery makes the most sense; you’re already in loose fitting clothing and you’re already nearby your favorite bathroom. And lets all be honest here, nobody leaves a Mexican restaurant saying, “Well, I think I’ll hit the gym for a little then come home and work around the garage”. No, two minutes after leaving a Mexican joint the only thing you’re thinking is “glad I have leather seats”.

Why do people (non work related) wear Bluetooth earpieces?

Homosexuality has been around for thousands of years. Headsets have been around for about 80+/- years. Bluetooth technology has been around for roughly 17 years. So, that has given us about 17 years to design some really f**king gay looking wireless headsets. The first time you saw someone with a Bluetooth headset you probably thought, “What, you work for Star Trek or some shit?” You’d think by now we’d have some Jack Bauer adhesive skin tone colored little speaker you could hide in your ear. I see the convenience of a hands free environment while working or driving, but when you’re walking down the f**king street you look like a clown. “What’s that babe, 2% milk….not skim? Got it”. Whoa, watch out, this guy must be important. He’s got so much shit to do he doesn’t even have the time to hold a f**king phone to his head. I hope your Bluetooth morphs into a Decepticon and stabs your brain (Enough. You already have plenty of StarWars references; we don’t need obscure Transformers jokes too).

Why are anonymous comments so angry?

“I WILL FIND YOU, AND KILL YOU! I f**king hated that! That was so f**king stupid I want to beat you to death with a mason jar full of bacon grease. Do you have a cat, do you have a f**king cat? ANSWER ME! By God I hope you have a cat, ‘cause I’m going to put that mother f**ker in a microwave! I hope you get hit by a station wagon full of Nickelback fans, then get tossed into oncoming traffic only to get hit by a guy on a f**king Vespa. Then when you get to the hospital they switch your charts and give you medicine you’re allergic to and you get your stomach pumped. And then when you get released from the hospital as a paraplegic, I hope you get home and have the most uncomfortable itch that you cant scratch and cant tell anyone about because you cant talk. Now you can’t write f**king stupid shit like this anymore. I f**king hate you!

But, I do agree about the part on Twilight, that shit is so gay yo!

Posted by Anonymous

Why is it f**king impossible to re-fold a roadmap correctly?

(Wait….where the hell did you just come from? It’s 2012; you don’t have a GPS, or a smart phone, or built in navigation, or Google maps, or mapquest?) Sure, but I still use conventional roadmaps. But really, it’s like they have a little China man (that’s racist) locked up in a closet who’s sole purpose is to fold shit in a manner that is impossible to re-do. It’s like buying a fake Christmas tree then trying to put it back in its box. It starts off 6 foot by one foot by one foot; then magically on January 1^st the f**king thing is like trying to fit a bowling ball into a film canister (what is this film canister you speak of?). Now my glove box now looks like I’ve been storing Quasimodo’s origami.

Are all vampires Christian?

(This excludes those sparkly Goth queers from Twilight). Think about it though, “the cross”, it’s like all traditional vampires are Christian. Is there a Jew vampire in New York that freaks out over the Star of David? I mean, how f**ked would you be if a vampire approached you and you pulled out a cross and he was like, “Silly mortal, I’m Muslim. DRACULA AKBAR!”.

What the F**K is fancy ketchup?

I want answers! Was there a time in the late 30’s when the Waldorf Astoria introduced “Fancy Ketchup”? Try our new Fancy Ketchup, it’s the beez knees! Sure, there’s whiskey, then there’s 18 year reserve whiskey. There’s steak, then there’s Kobe beef; but ketchup? “Our ketchup is made from the finest dry aged tomatoes, grown and hand picked in the most fertile soil from the Champagne region of northern

France

”. Also, I want to go to someone’s house and be served “non-Fancy Ketchup”. Then while driving home we can laugh about how poor they are. “Did you see when Henry pulled out the ‘regular’ ketchup? I wanted to say, didn’t know dinner was brought to us by the Dollar General, Ha Ha Ha Ha”. “Oh Clancy, you’re just being a bluenose”.

Why is it trendy to hate Apple products?

Ok, lets face the music (no pun intended (actually, pun intended)). Apple revolutionized the portable music player and the cellular phone. What they did for these two devices was at the time, and still is ground breaking. When the iPod/iPhone hit the market people were selling children to get one. But now there is this spawned generation of Anti-Apple people who talk about Apple like an ex-lover. “Does Apple talk about me? You saw iPhone last night, did he look good? I hope iPods new girlfriend looks like Mark Hamill. Sometimes when I’m sad I just drive by iPod’s house at night”. “THE NEW DROID DRAGONCOCK vII! COMING THIS F**KTOBER TO A RADIOHACK NEAR YOU. IT’S AN IPHONE (iPhone looks weird in all caps) KILLER!”. Sure, it’s an iPhone killer; until they release a new one….and it makes your Droid Dragoncock look like a f**king kitten licking an ice cube.

Why don’t people use turn signals?

Come on people, just use the f**king signal. Look Obi Wan f**king Kenobi, the force isn’t with me; so while you ride next to my front quarter panel traveling the exact same speed as me, don’t flick me off when I pass you causing you to get in behind me because I couldn’t receive your telekinetic requests to get in. Actually, you’re right. I know God**mned well what you want, but like they say; play stupid games, win stupid prizes. And people come up with so many f**king excuses “I figured I had enough room. I thought they’d notice me. Jesus Christ was in the back seat holding me at gunpoint”. Bullshit, you lazy pretentious prick.

Where do you draw the line between art and f**king idiots?

(Another pun!) Recently I saw someone on stage reading want-ads from a newspaper claiming it to be a form of art. “It’s spoken word, performance poetry”. F**k you. I could eat a bowl of SpaghettiO’s and shit a better argument than that. “Oh what a moving piece!” What, you gotta shit? “No, it’s Neo-Minimalistic. The artist is expressing his desire to be accepted, but not loosing his identity either”. ….It’s a f**king black square painted on canvas. “Yes, but it’s his eccentric guise that makes it work”. Ok. So. If I shave my eyebrows, wear a Venetian Collar and paint question marks with my pecker, what does that make me?

Why are there so many options for laundry detergent?

Consumers are faced with options, which is good. However, there are some products that are a little over the top; for example: laundry detergent. I could understand if the choices were scents of Lavender, Jock Itch or Tilapia. But to have a whole f**king aisle at HOLYSHITMART dedicated to laundry detergent is ridiculous. I expect one thing from my detergent, and that is to make my shirts smell like a cigarette didn’t just sodomize a bottle of Jameson. But when I watch my wife decide between ‘Mountain Air’ and ‘Valley Breeze’ I feel like going postal. “Oh I just don’t know; I mean I love mountain air in the fall, but something about running through a valley of hay softer than a Care Bear’s pubes just makes my lady-bits giggle”.

The State of theHaitian Address, Summer 2011

2011-08-18T12:36:00.001-04:00

I haven’t ~~blogged~~ bitched online in a while, so I figure it’s time for a quick something new. Today’s format won’t be as well constructed as my usual poorly constructed rants, but f**k it I’m lazy. So the question nobodies been asking is, just what has theHaitian been doing lately? Well, I’ll tell ya.

I quit smoking. Except when I drink, that’s a gimme. “You’re always drinking!”. Yea….we’ll tackle that one in 2012.

I’m back in school. Again. School by the way drives me f**king insane. For instance, who the f**k names these buildings? “And on the right is the Dennis Anderson Grave Digger Monster Truck Hall”. Oh neato!; and what do they teach there? “Botany”. Ahhh, that makes sense because he drives on dirt, and flowers come from the dirt. “Over here we have the Percy Cockington building”. Who is that? “Percy Cockington donated a vast sum of money to the school….so we gave him a building”. I’m a simple creature; for me I’d just rather see SCIENCE BUILDING, MATH HALL, GYM. Instead when asking directions to your next class you get, “go past Dingleberry Hall, make a left at the Jean Grey Library for Gifted Youngsters, when you pass the Carlos Hathcock cafeteria you’ll be facing the Jeffery Skilling School of Business Ethics building and there you are!” I really don’t know if I just got directions or participated in a murder mystery game. Also, tell me this isn’t a f**king scam; these ridiculous books. How the hell is it we used to do a full year in high school with one damn book per class that cost around a hundred bucks, but for college I need 4 books that cost upwards of 150 each for 3 months of one class? “Ok, this semester we’ll be using Calculus, Calculus: Graphs and Charts, Calculus: Lab Exercise and Scratch Paper 4^th edition”. Wait, what was that last book? “Scratch Paper 4^th Edition. It’s scratch paper but at the top of each sheet in cursive it says ‘Scratch Paper’”. You’re a f**king idiot, you know that? “Sir, would you please excuse yourself from the class!” F**k you, I’m going to roll your house with Toilet Paper 2^nd Edition. This also drives me bat shit crazy. I had an eighth grade teacher a few semesters ago. I have no problem with eighth grade teachers, and I have no problem with eighth grade teachers who also teach night classes. But don’t teach the f**king class like we’re in the eighth f**king grade. Next to my wrong answers she’d put a “frowny face”. Look Mrs. Whisker Biscuit, if you’re going to draw this shit all over my test then don’t be shocked if I come to a problem I don’t understand and I draw a big middle finger as my answer.

About a year ago I made a comment about how all my friends were having kids. Since then all my friends who didn’t have kids at the time read that and said F**k you!, we’re having kids. And this is fine. But don’t refer to a newborn as a “new addition”. A new addition is a climate controlled sunroom off the back porch. “Awww, Precious Sweet Baby Travis is a perfect new addition.” Precious Sweet Baby Travis? That’s a weird name for an assault rifle. A new addition would be the purchase of a miniature spoon with an artist’s rendition of the tourist trap on the handle. “We were walking through Target and they had the most adorable babies on clearance. We just had to get one; it’d make such a nice addition to the guest room”.

On the topic of shit you need to stop saying, quit using this expression: Look at the bright side. Look at the bright side is like saying, thank God I didn’t get f**ked like you just did, so let me offer some trite optimism to further infuriate you. Sorry you lost your job, but look at the bright side, you didn’t have to turn in all those company polo shirts! Oh great, now I have 13 ‘Bobs Bacon Bungalow” shirts to wear while searching for jobs. It’s like I can wear my resume on a shirt! Sorry your house burnt to the ground, but on the bright side of things you had your iPhone in your pocket….so…you can still play Angry Birds.

When God closes a door, he opens a window. Wait….are you being robbed….by God? What the f**k does that even mean? Do you not have central air conditioning? Do you live in a hut in Botswana? (P.S. The Sound of Music sucks)

Been working like a dog. And just what the hell do you do for a living? Puke up grass and lick your balls? Strippers are the only people who have a profession similar to that of a dog, because only strippers and dogs dry hump you while you’re still wearing jeans. Oh, I get it; you’re a Seeing Eye Human.

This pisses me off. I don’t want to degrade myself into doing poop jokes but I’ve already done gay, Asian, Black, Latino, cyclists, paraplegic and fat jokes….so, here we go. If I am doing my business at the office, and someone else walks to the urinal, DON’T F**KING TALK TO ME!

“Hey there, Martin!” (silence) “I see your shoes, that’s how I knew it was you, lolz” (silence) “Hey, what do you think of Sargento cheese?” (silence) “I love it” (pause) “but honestly, it’s not that much better than store brand” (silence) “I like it finely shredded…mmmm” (silence) “Hey, do you have cat?” (silence) “You’re awfully quiet. Whacha doing for lunch? Wanna go play badminton Sunday? What’s your favorite extinct marsupial? LOLZ, I’m wearing a black sock and a navy blue sock. What would be the first question you’d ask a dog if you could talk to dogs? My breath smells like antifreeze.” “Good talking to ya.”

Look, if your bare penis is 3 feet from my head and I’m not wearing pants….. don’t f**king talk to me…you’re throwing off my intense Bejeweled game. It’s simple bathroom etiquette.

The Infantry Marine, and His Many Shapes and Forms

2011-03-24T10:24:00.002-04:00

I am contractually free from the Marine Corps (f**k you Gunny Errrrah!) and I figured it’s about time I wrote a true Marine blog. I'm not going to write about my time in the Marine Corps, that would be too short. (89% of the time it sucked, 10% was awesome, and that 10% made up for the 89% suckfest. 1% of the time was trying to find creative ways to masturbate without lube in the desert and not rip the flesh off.....nevermind) Do you remember that commercial in the movie theaters with that asshole climbing mountains and shit, then fighting dragons with a damn sword? Then it wraps up with this ass clown standing on a f**king mountain in dress blues? Yea, well that’s a bunch of horse shit, so I figured I’d describe the “real” Marines. The come in a few different flavors. Here they are:

The “this isn’t what I signed up for” Marine

“F**k yea, I’m a Marine. F**k yea, I look good in dress blues. F**k yea, I got money”. Shut the f**k up boot, we’re deploying in 2 months. “Deploying….uh…where?” Well just where the f**k do you think? Have you never seen the damn news? Jesus Chesty Puller Christ, it’s even on MTV; now shut that cock holster you call a mouth and quit your bitchin'. Oh, and we’re going to stop at AP Hill for a month before we leave.

It’s not like they didn’t know what the hell was going on. I know your dumbass is only 18 but what the f**k were you expecting joining Marine infantry post 9/11? They’d station you in Miami Beach and women will just trip on your pecker?

The “I’m so f**king motivated all the f**king time” Marine

This could quite possibly be the most obnoxious thing in the Marine Corps (aside from every other Marine not in your Battalion). Every now and then you meet one of these f**kers who is just too damn motivated. There is “esprit de corp”…then there is “if the Marine Corps was a dude I’d butt-f**k it ‘cause I’m gay like that”. I’m talking about the second kind of person here.

“Bro, this is like, sooooo much better then high school; I love the Marine Corps”. That’s great and all, and I certainly love the Marine Corps too, but it’s the fucking weekend, now leave me the f**k alone. And I swear to Christ, if you say Oorah one more f**king time while playing Ghost Recon I am going to beat you like a red-headed step child.

These are the guys that wear the most ridiculous Marine t-shirts walking around their hometown mall that say shit like “We Put Kittens in Microwaves and Kill Babies and Drink Our Coffee With Sugar and Napalm. Then on Saturday We All Drive Monster Trucks Over To Our Buddies House and Eat Bacon Flavored Barbed-Wire Wrapped in C4 Which is Then Wrapped in Bacon. Oooo-Bacon-Rah! ”. These assholes listen to Marine running cadence in their damn car too. “Up in the morning with the Carolina sun, gonna run all day ‘til the running’s done”. Ok, first, God invented the car so we don’t have to f**kin run all day. Second, on the topic of cars, drive us into an oncoming school bus so I don’t have to hear this shit anymore. You can easily spot these f**kers on the road. They have bumper stickers that say shit like “My Other Car is a HMMWV”, or “OORAH! It’s a Marine Thing”. Seriously, have you ever seen a road cyclist with a bumper sticker that says “Sore Assholes; It’s a Cyclist’s Thing”?

The “aren’t you an illegal alien” Marine

Que?

The “my daddy was a Marine, and his daddy was a Marine, and his daddy’s Pa was a Marine, and his daddy's Pa's daddy was too” Marine

…..well your still a f**king boot. Look, there is no 'Marine Corps Alumni'. Once a Marine always a Marine, so consider your dumbass still serving with them. Nobody gives a shit. Seriously, what do you think you’re entitled to, a raise?

The “back home I’m somebody important” Marine

“Mang, f**ker, you don’t even know. Back home I gots like 7 cars, my pops owns a few nightclubs and I used to run them for him. I produced albums for some local rappers. I was rollin’ in money, dog”.

So why the f**k didn’t you stay your ass at home? Every now and then you’d run into this jerk-off. Elaborate stories of models he’s f**ked, cars he’s owned, celebrities he knows, and as you sit there and listen you just want to ask: “You wouldn’t be lying would you?”.

The “I’m so racist” Marine

“Man, f**k all these wet-back mother f**kers, dude. I’m sick of hearing all this trumpet and bongo shit!”. Yea, I guess. Is it really that bad? “F**k yea it is, this Puerto Rican above me keeps blastin this banana boat shit all through the f**king night, every time I’m trying to beat off he’s got some damn rice and bean convention going on”. Hey dude, you do know I’m half Cuban? “Man, f**k that, you look white”. Right…but…never mind. “Yo Ramirez, you going to chow? Yea!, wait up dog”. Wait, I thought you hated Latinos? “Nah man, its Ramirez, we’re cool, we went to boot camp together”.

Some skin head wannabe who spends his free time tying nooses, listening to hate metal, drawing swastikas on his helmet and all sorts of other shit ends up the best man is his black room-mates’ interracial wedding. Gotta love it.

The “don’t tell me how to spend my money” Marine

“Dude, after this deployment I’m going to be like f**king Jay-Z rich”. Oh yea, on Lance Corporal pay? “Hell’s yea dude. Man, the first thing I’m going to buy is a Bugatti watch, then I’m gonna take all my boys to the club and get a VIP room and buy all the drinks. Then I’m going to buy a flat screen for the barracks, and a f**king Ford Mustang”.

Look asshole, the watch is ridiculous; when the hell are you ever going to wear that, in the field? And a flat screen, this is the damn infantry dude, when the do we really have time for TV? and you KNOW that shit’s gonna get stolen. Last, why buy a f**king mustang…they’re issued at CIF……and let me guess, you got a V6?

“Dude, chill bro. I got this……Can I bum $20 ‘til we get paid Friday?”.

The “I start every sentence with ‘f**kin’, and end every sentence with ‘and shit’” Marine

These always made me laugh; it was pretty much an easy way to spot someone who repeated the third grade.

“F**kin, all right….dag gone, were gonna f**kin head to the armory and clean our f**kin weapons, and shit. F**kin, then uh…f**kin, we’re gonna roll to the motor pool and PM the f**kin piece of shit trucks, and shit”.

The thing is you stand there in formation listening to this crap and the only thing you can think is “this dumb son of a bitch is going to get us killed one day….and shit”.

The “I come up with the weirdest ways to describe shit” Marine

“Hey dude, doesn’t he kinda look like Ernie, from Burt and Ernie, but like if Ernie was a lesbian”. Huh? “You don’t see it?”.

“Man, I swear Peter looks exactly like if Lt were to f**k a Persian ferret while taking hair growth supplements, that would be their kid, right?”.

“F**k me man, it’s hotter then two queer Wookies f**king in a fleece insulated sleeping bag in the middle of Kenya in the summer heat after they just got done running 13 miles in fire retardant suits”. What the F**K are you talking about?

The “I’m a f**king Corpsman and am more a Marine than you” Corpsman

I gotta give a shout out (did you really just use “shout out”? MAS PUTOS, HUE!) to the Devil-Doc’s, and you know who you are. The simple truth is all the average Seamen does is pass out Motrin and tell us to drink water. But every now and then you get a Doc who stays right in the thick of the shit with us; standing fire-watch, carrying an M-16, driving our trucks, firing our mortars and being just as much a Marine as any other one of us. Shit, sometimes I’d look at the shit heads we’d get from infantry school and think to myself, just go the hell back home and send us another squared away Doc. Then again, sometimes you’d get a complete piece of shit Doc, the kind you’d rather trade for a warm diet Mountain Dew.

The “Back when I first got in” Marine

“Back when I first got in we all had to do pullups with our teeth”. Uh….That’s not possible. “Shut the f**k up boot or I’ll drop kick you in the brain-housing-group. F**king weak-ass, pussy-ass, bitch-ass, ass-ass, boot. I was slaughtering mu-f**kas during Desert Storm when you were still shittin’ boot-camp breakfast”. Oh really? Saw a lot action, huh? “Back when I first got in we rode horses into battle. Back when I first got in we didn’t have GPS, we used the f**kin stars”. Well Whoopty-F**king-Doo, back when you first got in is called history, and there’s a channel for that. This is the f**king present; nobody gives a flying f**k how hardcore it used to be, or how rough your life was then. Adapt, overcome, and get the f**k over yourself. There’s nothing wrong with nostalgia, but shut the hell up.

The “Look at me, I’m so f**king smart, and always have an answer for everything, and I always have the wittiest come backs, yet there’s no way in hell I can manage to do 2 pull ups, and everyone looks at me like, ‘how the f**k is he getting promoted to corporal?….he smokes when we run’, he even orders dominos when we’re in the field training, and half the time he’s not even that funny, and what’s with him talking from the perspective of his conscious, like’s he part of the cast of ‘Scrubs’; what a f**kin weirdo” Marine

(Wait…where are you going with this?)

Why Being a Halfie Sucks

2011-02-16T09:09:00.002-05:00

I’m a halfie. (Nobody cares about your libido, buddy) What’s a halfie you say? Well, my mother is Cuban and my father is American. I’m not brown, I’m not white….I’m f**king khaki. And it sucks, here’s why:

First and fore-f**king-most, nobody believes me. “Dude, you’re white.” Yes, I know I’m white in appearance, but my mom’s Cuban. “Yea? Say something in Spanish.” What….I’m not a f**king cocker spaniel you asshole. “I knew it, you’re not Spanish.” Dude, yes I am half Cuban. But I don’t feel the need to prove it to you like I’m some kind of dog. “Say something in Spanish and I’ll give you a piece of cheese.” …..Cheese? Come pinga, mamahuevo. “NO WAY, what’s that mean?” Eat a dick, cocksucker. “Well f**k you, no cheese!” It’s true; I look white, sound white, act white, so I can understand people being mislead. I mean I get it, have you ever seen Desi Arnez wearing Mossy Oak camouflage hunting bibs? No. So yea, it’s understandable where they’re coming from. However, there is some fun in this; I can hang out with a group of rednecks and blend in just fine. “You know what’s rurnin’ this country? Spics, I tell ya.” Yea! Spics and Affliction! “Hell yea….what’s Affliction?” But, it doesn’t stop here. I get f**ked with by fellow Latinos as well. “You’re white, bro.” Yes, I know I’m white in appearance, but my mom’s Cuban. “Yea? Speak in Spanish then.” What….I’m not a f**king cocker……never mind. Yea, I’m f**king white. “Told your ass, puto.”

Here’s another thing that sucks, I have no f**king idea what my kids will look like. I could end up with one that looks like Hitler’s Youth, or I could have one who looks like he should be waiting outside of a Home Depot. Honey, have you seen Carlos? “Yea he’s harassing men in pick up trucks at the Chevron.” But the truth of it is one side of my family is going to be disappointed. If I bring a red haired green eyed kid to South Florida…..HA! Are you f**king kidding me? “OK, joo know wha we gonna has? We gonna has the lechon, arroz y frijoles, y we gonna has platanitos, y un guayaba con cheese……y un Peanu-butta y Helly for el gringo”. Seriously, if I bring Sebastian WhiteyMcWhitester down there they’ll handle him like they are playing hot potato, but instead of a potato they’re passing around an exploding AIDS grenade. On the flip side if I go up to Iowa with Ernesto Don Chicharrones I’ll probably hear “can he use a rake yet?” No Godd**nit, he’s not raking up the f**king leaves. “Oh…well then whatever will he do for fun?” What would be great is if I have twins, one brown and one white. Hahaha, oh the looks my wife would get.

The real kicker is this; I can’t even f**king take advantage of my ‘hispanicness’; it does me no f**king good on an application. If I check ‘Hispanic’ they’ll for sure flag that as fraudulent. I can see it now in an interview: “Here at YadaYada, LLC we like to have a diversified workforce, Mr…..Story….am I saying that right?” Actually it’s ‘Estorya’, and I’m kind of in a hurry, I double parked my raft. “Look, Mr. Story, I do not doubt your heritage…..but you’re white.” Yes sir, but my mother is half Cuban. “But you were born in America.” So are black people! “…….We don’t like to go there, sir.” (Yea asshole, don’t go there) But come on, if black dude “A” was born in America, as were both parents, and white looking dude “B” was born in America, but one parent was born in, oh I don’t know, let’s say F**KING CUBA!!!…..then white looking dude “B” is more of a minority. “No, I understand that. But you look white.” Ok, so if I dyed my f**king skin red, then what? “Well, then you’d be a Native American.” Holy shit, all you see is color. “We also see statistics.” Oh, well that’s f**king solid.

I have pretty much figured out that the only part of me that resembles anything Latin is the portion of my body from my neck to my waist. Aside from the Frankenstein, I can’t dance for shit. The only thing I salsa is chips and phonetically meringue has “gay” in it, so I see little appeal in doing that. (Homophobic, are we?) Talking like Yoda, you are......anyways, I can’t hold a tan to save my life; it’s either lobster or Casper. I think it’s safe to say I lack the “suave” personality. My only pick up line when I was single was: Damn, you’re so hot you’re making me sweat…..but I did have Italian….so….that makes me sweat too. Can I borrow an ice cube to rub on my forehead? I’m theHaitian….um….damn my glasses keep sliding down my nose….is it just me or is it kinda greasy in here? Hey, where are you going? Is that your boyfriend? Oh, well you look like you know him…no? Yall just met….wow, would never have guessed that. Ok, see ya. Damnit. But, I’ll tell you where I am Latin, my stomach. If it has the potential to kill you then it tastes great to us. “Hey, you know what we should do with this roasted pork…flash fry it!” “What should we do with this flank steak?” Uh, how about we fry it, serve it with a fried banana (because healthy fruit is gay) but first we’ll serve a ball of fried mashed potatoes stuffed with ground beef with a side of ground up fried ham sticks! “We’ll need something to drink.” How about a thick sugar-packed milk shake? “Maravilloso!” Ask yourself, how many thin Latino’s you see walking around? Exactly. Well there is an exception and they’re called Puerto Ricans….and we don’t like their kind.

Authors Disclaimer:

Just kidding Puerto Ricans, ya’ll are ok.

Things 2011 Needs To Work On

2010-12-22T08:03:00.002-05:00

Another year is almost down. It amazes me that with the ability to do what we can today, you’d think by now shit like this would be a thing of the past. But, I stand here disappointed. Ok 2011, below are some things I need you to work on.

We’d Have a Cure for the Common Cold
So let me f**king see if I understand…..you’re telling me if I take these three pills twice a day for forty-five days, my cholesterol will be normal, I’ll mysteriously shed 35 pounds, I’ll be able to crush catsup (nobody spells it like that) packets with my pec’s, I’ll go back to having “regular” movements, and my cock will be able to do 17 pull ups …..but you can’t figure out a cure for the common cold?! It sucks because whenever you feel miserable I believe you have the right to bitch about it. But the truth is, it’s just a cold. It’s not like you can bitch about having a cold to a cancer patient.

Guy with a cold: “Man, you have no idea how I feel. I had to back out of our bowling league practice last night I was so sick. This has to be the worst feeling ever.”
Cancer Patient: “Are you f**king serious? Did you just f**king say that? You have a f**king cold, uh-oh, watch out, this guy could drop dead at any second now. Shut the f**k up; so you get to spend two days in a robe watching Oprah, f**k you! Pussy.”
Guy with a cold: “Man, cancer patients are jerks.”

Cruise Control Would Function Properly
I’d figure by now cars that are smart enough to park their damn selves could be equipped with a computer that can figure out when it’s going up a f**king hill. But no matter what, if you go up a hill with cruise control on, your 2009 Nissan Pathfinder sounds like a damn Ferrari running the 24 hours of Le Mans in first gear. And it makes you feel like an asshole because all of a sudden your vehicle charges forward like a dog whose tail just got stepped on, then you realize your going half the f**king speed of light and hit the brakes; now everyone on the highway is looking at you like you’re the biggest asshole in the world. Oh well, screw ‘em. What the F**k are you looking at, you’re driving a f**king SmartCar!

Meteorologists Could Actually do Something Right
Well here’s a good one, WHY THE F**K CAN’T WE PREDICT THE F**KING WEATHER? Shit, at least get a f**king ball park estimate. “Tomorrows going to be a beautiful day; high’s in the 70’s, sunny, not a cloud in the sky”. So when I go to the park to throw the Frisbee (what are you, gay?), and I’m standing in a waste deep river looking up at the sky thinking to myself “Is that hail? Sure looks like hail. Maybe I shou f**k. Ow, f**k. Damnit!”, well Mr. Weatherman, don’t be shocked when the lead anchor is reporting on some unidentified sniper taking shots at the dickhead in front of a blue-screen. Here’s a little trivia for ya; the word meteorologist comes from the Greek words: ‘Mete’ (I am f**king full of shit), ‘orol’ (But these f**king idiots will listen to me because), ‘ogist’ (I have a fancy f**king sounding name).

Gas Pumps Wouldn’t Take Forever
Ok, now I realize that driving a full size truck will take a while to fill with gas, but for f**k sake, does it have to take that long? You could have a one gallon red gas container and it’d still take you 4 minutes to fill. What the f**k is in this piece of shit pump? It’s like they have a f**king emphysemic midget with a hose sucking the gas up from the holding tank. Yet, I can go to the disgusting restroom in the gas station and the sink will put out water at a rate rival to any f**king New York City fire truck. And you wonder why I drive like a Godd**ned maniac. Well, it’s because I had to wait half an hour to fill my truck, got gas on my hands because the f**king backflow sensor broke, then I washed my hands off with the f**king riot control nozzle in the bathroom….oh, and it looks like I pissed all over my self.

Checking Out Wouldn’t be a Bitch
You’d honestly think by now there would be more efficient ways to check out at a store. Take Wal-Mart for example. They have unbeatable prices, and they have damn near everything. I need shotgun shells, plaster of Paris, a jar of gypsy tears, caviar, underwear, all the seasons of ‘I Love Lucy’ on BlueRay and a fifty gallon caldron. “Aisle 3, 12, 1 next to the dragons-breath aerosol cans, 4, 14, by the Tv’s, and aisle 9.” BUT, when it comes time to check out you go to a bank of 15000 registers and only two are open. The self checkout, which is always a f**kin riot, is usually occupied by some hillbilly with a mullet in jean shorts sporting a Bob Seger cut off sleeve shirt scanning 300 quarts of motor oil one at a time, has a second cart with 30 gallons of Mountain Dew and ‘How to Spit and Not Hit the Side of the Truck, For Dummies’ on paperback, all the while trying to pick up the woman behind him with the classic line “I’d like to tongue-punch your fart-box”. OR, the second register is being operated by ole Miss Daisy. “Is there a price on this?” Right there ma’am. “Is there a price on this?” Right there ma’am. “Is there a price on this?” Right there ma’am. “Well this one won’t scan.” That’s because you’re using a returned stick of deodorant as the scan gun. “Oh…gee, I’m getting’ old, ya know?” No ma’am, old people are getting old. They buy Buicks, move to a time share in Orlando and spend their days walking around Disney World. You on the other hand, you’re getting Jurassic; the Smithsonian should have you on exhibit.

Movie Prices Would be Lower
Two adults and one child for Brokeback Mountain II; Booty Log Jam, in 3D please. “Well that’ll be $392. Or, we can break it up into six easy payments of $72. However, if that adorable child of yours can stitch Nike logos onto soccer balls for seven Saturdays in a row, we can knock off eighty bucks.” The appeal of going to the movies simply isn’t there anymore. An over priced ticket, over priced crappy food, all to sit in an auditorium with sticky floors and obnoxious people who think actors can take their direction as they yell at the screen. We live in an age where we can either On Demand, or DVR, or stream via Netflix, or for the more rebellious, illegally download; so tell me why I want to take out a loan to see “Twilight XVII; Rise of the Zombie Vampire Transformers”. “Why wouldn’t you? Like, OMG, Edcob-bot is so totally hot!” Who the f**k is Edcob-bot? “Like, do you live in a glass house or something?” Um, I don’t think that’s how it’s used. “WHAT-EVER; like, Edward and Jacob both die defending Bella and then some witch doctor sews them together and gives them life again, but they like, can transform into a Prius; so like Bella is now with both men she loves, but they’re like as one now, and she has an eco-friendly car. It’s sooo sweet. Stephanie Meyer is like the Jane Austin of our century.” ….I hope you get mauled by a coyote.

Cell Phones Wouldn’t have Shitty Reception
Ok, if your closest neighbor resides in the farm 15 miles from your farm, and his biggest claim to fame is passing legislature allowing him to f**k his livestock, well then I can understand having shitty cell reception. However; if in your neighborhood you see at least three minivans with these f**king queer little stick figure family people on the rear window, then there is no excuse to never have cell reception. You see, I live in the Peoples Republic of Roswell and it’s a great place to live (especially if you don’t mind driving 7 mph behind a string of cyclists), but there are a few spots where I always loose reception (on multiple carriers). So once the call drops you begin to play the call back game, where both parties insist on calling each other at the exact same moment, so both phones default to voicemail. Then you both decide not to call and let the other person call, so both phones are silent for a few minutes…..then you both call each other back at the exact same time….and we’re back to voicemail. So here I am with a phone that has an app that will turn into a set of lips and blow me while playing the newest song 2-Pac wrote from the grave, all the while updating my twitter feed (#thehaitianactual @blowjob2.0forHTCEvo: must be cold, huh? LOLZ), but I can’t make a f**king phone call.

Healthy Food Wouldn’t Still Suck
Real Coke taste, zero calories. (Oh shit! They’re gonna sue us now!). Yea, real Coke taste my ass; real Coke doesn’t have an aftertaste of cough syrup and squirrel shit. “All right gents, we’re going to launch this mini remote controlled monster truck 35 to 250 million miles away to Mars, attach a bazillion mega-pixel camera to it and take some f**king high-res snapshots of dirt”. Look, that’s super-neato and all, but I’m probably going to have a stroke within 5 years, and I get an erection whenever I here cellophane being unwrapped….mmmm, taco….or is it a crunchwrap…..ooooh, maybe it’s a chalupa. My point being, lets focus not so much on particle acceleration and pissing off the Pope, but rather on trying to make food relatively healthy…and not suck. (It’s called discipline, buddy). F**k you!

Checkbooks Would be Obsolete
When you’re behind someone in line who’s writing a check, don’t you just want to grab a heavy blunt object and beat them to near death? “What’s today’s date, sonny?” Well ma’am I’m not f**king sure, I left my phone in the car, but it ends with 2010…so get with the damn program. I’d like to look in their cart. Just what the hell does a check-writing person shop for? Hmmmm, lets see here, oooh, rock candy, elixir, forty pounds of salt, I guess Pa’s gotta cure some meat before the winter freeze sets in, and oh, what’s this…..a ball of twine. Can’t ever have enough twine. Even the Amish make fun of people who use checks. “Jebediah, did you see that old maid writing a check?” “Sure did Papa, that ole bizzle was crizzle for shizzle.” “Word, my son. Word.” Oh crap, this is my last check; better telegram the bank and order some more.

Delivery Wouldn’t Take so Long
“Thanks for calling Mr. F**king Pizza, there are no specials tonight and you’re our first caller! What can I get you tonight?” Yea, I’d like a large pizza. “Ok, that’ll be 13 bucks and will take about 20 minutes.” Actually, can I get pepperoni and sausage on it, please? “Sure, that’s 33.95 and will take just over 2 hours.” Two f**king hours, are you kidding me? Riddle me this Batman, how the f**k is it that the Chinese can get my dinner to my door before I’m done reading off my f**king credit card number, yet this shit takes forever? OK, so in the unlikely chance that your pedaling a f**king unicycle backwards up a hill the whole damn way, then I can understand. “Yea, all of our drivers took vacation on the same day, hahaha, what are the odds? The only two drivers we have available are Carl and Moe. Carl is from Ghana and drives a 1993 Ford Escort about 10,000 mph, but he’ll end up zipping up and down your street about 200 times passing your house. Or there’s Moe. Moe is a paraplegic ferret.” Then they get butt-hurt when you don’t tip. Look pecker-head, I ordered a f**king pizza, not a frozen, petrified, pizza-looking paperweight. Maybe if you hadn’t stopped at 15 f**king houses first like you’re on a damn paper route I might be eating pizza rather than using this to patch a hole in my sheetrock.

We’d Have TV Programming Worth a Damn
So there’s basically a zillion f**king channels, and at least half a zillion HD channels, but the fact is, there is never a f**king thing on worth watching.

Discovery Channel: “Look it’s a Monster….nah, Just Kidding”, “Look it’s a Ghost…nah, Just Kidding”, “Have you seen my Ghost?”, “This Haunted House is Scaryish”, “Holy F**k, Look at that Monster Someone Videotaped with a F**king Camera from 200BCE so you cant make out a Godda*ned Thing”.

HD Theatre: “Africa, in HD”, “Antarctica, in HD”, “Nature, in HD”, “Close-ups of a Blade of Grass, in HD”, “Hey Dipshit, Stick your F**king Head Outside Instead of Watching This Bullshit, in HD”.

TLC: “Family with 8 Kids”, “Family with 15 Kids”, Midgets with Kids”, “Kids with Midgets” (they like to be called ‘little people), “Little People with Midgets”.

CBS: Hahaha, nobody watches CBS. They could show hardcore anal porn and never get reported.

HGTV: “Look at this F**king House”, “Shit for your Husband to do”, “What a Fun Project for Him”, “Easy Shit you can do, if you’re a F**king Engineer”, “How to Turn your Coat Closet into a Spaceship”.

History Channel: “Nostradamus Effect”, “Nostradamus Prophecy”, “The Nostradamus Hoax”, “Did Nostradamus Ever Wear Shorts?”, “Nostradamusitus”, “Nostradamus does Dallas”.

ABC: “Grey’s Anatomy”, “Grey’s Anatomy spin off”, “A show just like Grey’s Anatomy, but not in a hospital”, “Lovey Lovey Love Love”, “Family Woohoo Love Tree Acoustic Guitar Starbucks”.

MTV: “17 and Pregnant”, “16 and Pregnant”, “15 and Pregnant”, “Preteen and Pregnant”, “Pregnant Babies”, “Pregnant Babies with Rabies”.

E! “Crazy Bitches”, “F**king Crazy Bitches”, “Bitch, you Crazy”, “Deese Bitches Trippin”, “Some Homo Talking ‘Bout Crazy Bitches”, “Bitch, WTF RU Wearin?”.

Bravo: “Queer-Gear”, “2 Queers and a Beer”, “This Queer Old House”, “Queer-Food”, “Kathy Griffin, I’m Queer”, “Top Queer”, “The Queer Househusbands of Key West”

….Ah, f**k it. I’ll just watch Star Wars again.

Authors Disclaimer:
Thanks Nick, that’s a classic.

Christmas Music...isn't it just Grand!

2010-12-10T10:04:00.000-05:00

Now, I’m not the kinda guy who ‘gets into’ Christmas. I don’t hate Christmas, it just isn’t my thing. I do however love sleeping and not working, and Christmas gives me two more days to do more of both; so, Yay Christmas! However, what I do hate is Christmas music. Christmas music makes me appreciate silence that much more. When I hear Christmas music against my will it makes me feel like I’m being held hostage in a damn Hallmark store. On top of that, Christmas music gives every f**kin stupid singer the ability to release their own “oh-so-unique” renditions of these ‘classics’. Ke$has’ Kristmas Partay; this oughta be good. So, in true Haitian fashion let’s analyze some Xmas tunez.

“Santa Baby”

Yup, even Christmas can sound slutty.

“Let it Snow. Let it Snow. Let it Snow.”

I’m sure the Northeast loves this one.

“Do You Hear What I Hear”

So….the wind tells a lamb, who tells a boy, who tells a king, who tells the people…. This is like that game ‘telephone’. I bet the wind didn’t say anything like what the king is saying.

“All I Want For Christmas is my Two Front Teeth”

Well, aren’t you f**king modest. All right kid, cut the ‘cute’ act, what do you really want? Well….I’d like an iPad, PS3, LED 3D Tv, all the ‘Chappelle Show’ seasons on BlueRay, and an iPhone 4g.

“Go Tell it on the Mountain”

Quit yelling! Do you not have a Twitter account?

“We Three Kings”

So, let’s see. He is going to die for our sins and you give Him a gift card, cologne and arthritis medicine?

“Christmas Time is Here”

….Also called Black Friday.

“I saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause”

Look kid, either you just saw the beginning of what’s about to become your new brother, or your Mom’s a slut. Does Daddy work a night shift? If so, get prepared to start having two Christmas’s.

“Feliz Navidad”

I said “1” for English!

“I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas”

Well now, one little f**ker just wants some dentures, but your punk ass wants a hippo, huh? Here’s a Barbie doll and a sweater, how ‘bout that. Aim small miss small.

“Mary Did You Know?”

The better question, Joseph did you know? I’m pretty sure if he knew he’d die a virgin but still have a kid he’d have married someone else.

“It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”

Ahhhh, you must be at ‘Target’.

But, my favorite of all:

“The Twelve Days of Christmas”

A Partridge in a Pear Tree.

“Oh! A f**king bird and some fruit, brilliant! This is great, now once I am fed up with cleaning feces off all these f**king pears we can cook this pheasant sized bird and possibly feed a quarter of our family.”

Two Turtle Doves.

“Oh how cute! Turtle doves…..so…were the pretty white doves too expensive?”

Three French Hens

“More Birds! Wow…So, look’s like we’ll be having Pot Pie this week.”

Four Colly Birds

“ENOUGH WITH THE F**KING BIRDS! And what the f**k is a Colly bird? Oh, this little black thing? You do realize these things fly here all the f**king time, right? I mean, it’d be like me giving you 4 bushels of pine straw.”

Five Golden Rings

“Now we’re talking!”

Six Geese-a-Laying

“Oh….neato….another bird. So, are you trying to tell me you want an omelet?”

Seven Swans-a-Swimming

“Ok, Mister. Don’t come bitching to me when there’s bird shit all over the carriage. This is starting to get out of hand.”

Eight Maids-a-Milking

“Servants, how thoughtful. Can they do dishes too? Oh, just milking….well, ok then.”

Nine Ladies Dancing

“You’re on the couch tonight for that one. Wait, no, you’re sleeping with me tonight, I don’t trust you. Is…..is she Pop-Lock and Dropping it? Where did you find these women?”

Ten Lords-a-Leaping

“Is there something you want to tell me? Have you been hanging out at Swinging Richards again?”

Eleven Pipers Piping

“Oh, cause this won’t be annoying as hell. You do know I have an alarm clock. What the f**k could I possibly do with this? Great, the only song they know is ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’, there’s no way this could get old”

Twelve Drummers Drumming

“Hey, drummer guy, what songs can you play?” “Little Drummer Boy, ma’am.” “What else?” “That’s it, ma’am.” “Well, won’t you just be so useful for 25 days. Now, for the other 340 days you why don’t you go and shove that drumstick sideways up where the sun don’t shine!”

…..Later on during the evening of the 12^th day of Christmas……

JESUS CHRIST! We have half a f**king marching band in the living room, 30 queers that won’t stop frolicking around in the back yard, 76 useless whores, unless you want milk or a lapdance, 184 f**king birds shitting all over the place, and our back yard is covered with rotting f**king pears. What the f**k do you expect me to do with all of this shit? Remember when I said I really wanted a new gown for the ball, it meant, I really wanted a new f**king gown for the f**king ball. But….I do love the jewelry.”

Halloween Humor

2010-10-25T09:18:00.001-04:00

Part I: How to f**k up Halloween

Mini Vans

As you drive behind your kids in a f**king minivan, don’t be shocked in two years when little Timmy is 4 feet tall and 4 feet wide. Are you telling me that on one night in the year walking around your neighborhood is just too exhausting for you? And don’t give me this “I need the car to put all the candy in, the bags get heavy”. Bull shit. What, is little Timmy holding up all these houses? “Trick or mutha-f**kin treat. Now give me all your candy or I’ll blow your f**kin head off!”. Yea, didn’t think so. Why not carry a backpack or pull a wagon….but a car, really? (…..“really”. You sell out.) Halloween should be as follows: Kids trick or treating, and parents WALKING behind them pouring beer into ‘Solo’ cups.

Home made costumes

“Dude, check it out, 2011 Camaro.” “Sweet.” “Oh f**k me, that’s a Transformer. That kid is f**king Bumble Bee!” “No f**king way; kid, where the hell did you get that costume?” “My dad made it.” When talented and creative parents make their own costumes for their kids it can be pretty cool. It’s parental bragging rights, and there is nothing wrong with teaching your children to be competitive. But usually when parents make their own costumes for their kids it plays out like this: “Trick or Treat!” “Oh, hey kid. What are you supposed to be?” “I’m a Git-R-Done Ghost.” “…What?” “I’m a redneck ghost!” “…Right. Um, that’s just a plaid table cloth draped over your head with eye-holes cut out.” “Nuh-uh, I’m a redneck ghost!” Look, if you are creative and can come up with something badass or witty, then by all means, show it off. However, if you think writing in cursive is a form of art then f**king go buy a costume. We won’t judge.

Lawn decorations

Adding some holiday decorations is a cool way to get into the spirit of the occasion. But when your front yard looks like the Ghost of Halloween Past puked all over it, then you’ve gone too far. “Ok, let’s put the giant inflatable bat on top of the giant inflatable spider. Um, then put the spider on the inflatable pumpkin, which we’ll put on the inflatable fake fire. Then put the fire on top of the inflatable haunted house. Then maybe NASA can take some pictures of it from space!” There’s a significant difference from “Oh look, they have a fog machine and a skeleton....cool”, to, “Oh my, they have all the extras from Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” music video. What the f**k…is that Willem Dafoe in their front yard?”

Treats other than candy

If you wake up on November 1^st to find your fake flamingo sodomizing your lawn gnomes, then there is a good chance your dumbass gave out apples and dental floss for Halloween. If there is one socially acceptable day to give kids candy (Dude, not from a conversion van. Remember why we can’t go to Six Flags….yea, no shit.), then obviously Halloween is that day. Don’t ruin it with your self righteous healthy living shit. “Here ya go young man, here’s some Scope mouthwash for when you’re done eating all of that nasty candy. Now your teeth will be clean and healthy.” If I had the mindset I have now back when I was kid I’d have said, “Oh, and here ya go dipshit, let me quickly pinch off a loaf on your doorstep. Now whenever you pull your f**king head out of your ass you’ll still be able to remember what it smelt like. F**k you.”

Part II: Halloween for Adults

It’s fun for us for two reasons. One, men get to act like idiots for one day without spousal judgment. Two, women dress like whores. Seriously. “I’m Cat-Woman”. Sure ya are, if she was in heat. “I’m a pirate!” Just because your skirt has the same amount of material as an eye patch does not make you a pirate. “I’m a nurse.” A nurse that does ass to mouth? Thought so. But what isn’t fun are adults who use children themed costumes. For instance, adult dressed as:

Batman. Not cool.

Batman with Rabies. I could work with that.

Power Ranger. Gay

Power Ranger after 6 years living in Key West. Gay, but potential to be funny.

Ninja Turtle. Not so much.

Ninja Turtle on Meth. Likin’ it.

Anything that carries a sword. Lame, now go back to your ‘World of Warcraft’.

Anything that carries a rubber dildo. Already laughing.

Another way adults take the fun out of Halloween is by dressing up their animals in costumes. “Look, Mr. Snuggles is a cowboy.” If Mr. Snuggles could speak I know the first thing he’d say is, “Get me out of this, bitch. You’re so f**king lucky I don’t have opposable thumbs or else I’d stab you in the f**king throat while you sleep!” Here’s a general rule to keep in mind; whatever is able to lick its own genitalia is morally obligated to not wear outfits. It kills me because my wife loves to dress up our creature (technically it’s a dog, but creature is more fitting). The best part is when shopping, we finally go to the register to check out and my wife mysteriously disappears. So there I stand at checkout when this dude pulls out a ‘Doggy French Maid Outfit’ from my cart. Do you realize how f**king embarrassing it is to stand there by myself ringing up a f**king ‘Doggy French Maid Outfit’? “Hi, I’m Martin. My penis is fake. This just cracks me up. It’s so silly. Tehehehe, Oh my God, I’m so overwhelmed with estrogen right now. I’m gonna drive 75 miles per hour through the parking lot to go put this on the f**king dog. She’ll look adorable…..wow, I really need a hobby.”

Part III: 10 Reasons why nobody ‘Trick or Treats’ at my house anymore

In 2008 I forgot to take the chain off the chainsaw. (In my defense I am pretty sure that kid didn’t have a shot at professional sports.)

Chocolate flavored condoms are not candy.

Fog machines are better for visual effects then flame throwers.

Public urination is still illegal in your own front lawn.

Real blood is interpreted differently than fake blood.

Candy purchased from a sex shop is not socially acceptable.

Some parents feel uncomfortable when a guy with a ball-gag hands their kids candy.

When used as spooky background music, violent pornography is not OK.

“And just what the hell are you little f**kers supposed to be?” is not an appropriate response to “Trick or Treat!”

Apparently “Boy Scout Leader with No Pants On” is an offensive costume.

Authors Disclaimer:

1.) Yes, that is my [wife’s] dog.

2.) Quit f**king laughing at the f**king dog.

9 Things people need to quit saying

2010-10-07T12:34:00.001-04:00

(Awww, couldn’t think of 10?)

Tweet/Tweeted

I think I mentioned this once before in a post a long time ago, but I am not a big fan of Twitter. (Finally, some new material. ‘Bout time) And I know constant bitching about Twitter is pretty much the same as some girl bitching about her ex and asking everyone if her ex still talks about her; but I won’t give up. Even the words associated with Twitter piss me off. ‘Tweeted’ is the past tense term for “having posted a tweet”. ‘Tweeted’ can also be defined as: “I need a life”. But here’s the thing, you don’t need to be that specific. There are some things that we just don’t need to know every detail about. Example 1: “I posted our picture online last night.” Not so bad. “I tweeted it up last night, yo.” That’s too much. Example 2: “Even as a young boy I always knew I was gay.” Ok, fair statement, to the point but not too much. “I used to have pork sword fights in the Boy Scouts, but now I just like getting my shit pushed in.” .…You see now?

Now don’t get mad, but….

Saying “now don’t get mad” is a sure sign that whoever you’re talking to is about to get pissed the f**k off. “Now don’t get mad, but I lit your house on fire.” WHAT! Are you f**king kidding me. My f**king house! Did you at least get the light-saber prop used in “A New Hope” off the mantle? Please, tell me you did. F**k me! “I said don’t get mad, now you’re yelling at me!” No f**king shit I’m mad. “Now don’t get mad, but I stole 20 bucks from you and played Mega Millions and now you won 864 million.” Well why the f**k would I be mad about that? You could post a picture on the internet of me tucking my nuts between my legs imagining what I’d look like as a woman, then asking some chic whom I’m about to make into a skin jacket if she’d f**k me. I’d f**k me. (Nice, Silence of the Lambs…..you’re weird, ya know that?). Anyways, if you did that then gave me 864 million I still wouldn’t be mad. But no, people only start sentences off with “now don’t get mad” when they are absolutely certain I’m about to get mad; like it is some sort of verbal wild card. Jinx, can’t talk! You do realize that doesn’t work. I can damn well talk if I want to, so I sure as f**k can get furious regardless of the non-binding verbal contract we just made.

Fail!

“Aw crap, I forgot to pick up mayonnaise.” “FAIL!” “What?” “FAIL!” “Dude, it’s just mayonnaise, I’ll get some tomorrow on the way home from work.” “FAIL!” Look people, quit this f**king ‘fail’ shit already. Yea, it was fun a few times on the internet with some sort of peoplefromwalmart picture, but now that it’s being integrated into everyday speech it’s lost its value. How much do you want to bet there is some highschooler who failed a test and shows it to a friend, “Haha, FAIL!” “LOLZ, FAIL!” “Epic FAIL!” “Yea broseph, FAIL; that’s like a FML FAIL!” And am I the only person getting confused with these internet f**ks who are now integrating acronyms into full sentences. “Dude, I just saw Dane Cook (he’s a queer by the way) and he was doing a FML skit and I was lolz the whole time, it was FTW!” What are you trying to say here? Did a cat just walk on your keyboard?

I’m not racist, but….

Yea you are. Look, starting a sentence off with “I’m not racist, but…” is pretty much saying, “I like me some Mezican food, but damn I can’t stand them there Indians”. Nobody starts a sentence with “not to sound racist, but….” and finishes with a compliment. “Now, I’m not racist, but I really do think Philippino’s have great taste when it comes to under-car neon lighting”. Exactly. “I’m not racist, but damn I wish all the Latino’s would move out of the neighborhood.” Well how the f**k is that not racist? Translation: “I don’t mind other races, but I really think this neighborhood should be more about football, and not futból. It’s not racism; I just really hate ladder-vans. Ya know, put the brown on the other side of town. Right, am I right? Feel me?” Yea, I feel ya buddy, maybe we should change our neighborhood from ‘Shady Oaks Farms’ to ‘The Fourth Reich’. Oh, maybe on the lamp posts we can drape swastika flags. Hey, whatcha’ doing Saturday, want to burn crosses with me….it’ll be fun.

……., Really?

The first time I heard someone end a sentence with the sarcastic “really” I was like, “yea, really?” The first time I used it I thought to myself, “yea...really? You showed their stupid ass.” But now you can’t go a full day without hearing this shit. On the radio, “Honey, we already gave away the Beiber tickets. Like an hour ago. You’re just now calling in….really?” On TV, “Looks like this will be a chilly week, temperatures in Atlanta will see high’s of 65 and lows in the 40’s. But, on Saturday we’re going to get back in the 90’s for a day….really?” While shopping at Claire’s, “Like, oh my God. This is sooo fetch. Who would wear a team Edward necklace? Edward is like, so lame. I mean, really?” (What the f**k are you doing in Claire’s?) Ending a sentence in “really” is the 21^st century version of the 1990’s way of starting a sentence with “like”. I give it about 5 more years and the average well-to-do teenagers will just stand around and say nothing but “Like, really?” It’ll be a full speech with nothing more than ‘like, really’. Kind of like how birds chirp, but somehow these chirps are a form of communication. It all sounds the same to me, but at 7am on a Saturday these f**ker’s are reciting their favorite Shakespeare in front of my damn window. Come on birds, 7am, really? Ah, f**k!

Call the IT guy.

You do know the IT guy has a name, right? People, it’s 2010; so most of us are now full blown idiots. Technology is a crutch that allows complete morons to act as half competent employees. Without technology we find out just how f**king stupid we really are. “OH MY GOD! The network is down! I have no idea how to sell shit now!” Well, it’s 24.99, tax is 6%; so multiply by 1.06 and I’ll give you that exact amount in cash. Just ring it up once the network is up. “Cash?” Yea, paper money. “What is this paper you speak of?” The field of information technology is definitely the most important aspect to 21^st century business, so treat your IT personnel with some dignity and respect. Seriously though, half of America couldn’t even figure out how to wipe their own damn ass without there being an app for that. “Bro, you’re still using Charmin Ultra v1.2…..haha, FAIL!”

Cowboy Up!

To be honest, I like the phrase “Cowboy the f**k up”. It’s cool; sounds good, very John Wayneish. But where I do have a problem is when some frosted tipped, f**k-knuckled clown in a pink shirt tells me to ‘Cowboy Up’ because I don’t want to try Axe Body Spray. Look twinkle-toes, not that I don’t want to smell like a mountain, or like ‘midnight splash’, whatever the f**k midnight splash smells like; or not that I don’t enjoy the scent of ‘ride the wave’, or ‘1 in the stink’, or ‘juicy-juicin’ or what the f**k else you fairies like to smell like, but I have my scent. It’s called Aqua Velva, and it’s the shit. If a peppermint plant were to f**k a bottle of hydrogen peroxide then that’s what you get, and that’s what I wear; but I digress. So look Nancy, quit saying ‘Cowboy Up’ if the closest cowboy anything you can relate to is “Brokeback Mountain”.

With all due respect….

With all due respect is a sincere way of saying, “Hey you ignorant f**k, I wouldn’t piss on you if you were burning to death. So, f**k you.” Has anyone ever said “With all due respect, I think that’s a fantastic idea.” NO! “All right gentlemen, there are two machine gun nests at the top of that mountain. Martin, I need you and Private f**ktard to run up there with super-soakers and take them out. Artillery is eating chow so we don’t want to bother them. Get it done Marines.” Uh….Captain, sir, with all due respect, I think we can figure out a better method of engagement. Translation: “Are you f**king insane? Just where the f**k did you get your college degree, Wal-Mart? Sir, and I don’t want this to come off as rude, but you don’t possess the strategic capabilities to fight your f**king way out of a wet paper bag. You sir, are a nincompoop. That’s f**king right, a nincompoop. When’s the last time you were called that, 3^rd grade? Well your military leadership is on par with that of a f**king 3^rd grade nincompoop. Why don’t you try something good for us all and do jumping jacks on a land mine, Sir.”

Epic

“Bro, bro, that was f**king epic.” “What was?” “Bro, this picture; it’s got this kitten jumping off a couch, but in the picture the kitten is in mid air and it looks like he’s flying, and the caption reads ‘I must go, my planet needs me’.” Sure, there are some things that are epic, and some things that simply aren’t. The Bible, epic! If ‘Lord of the Rings’ was real, epic! When Anakin Skywalker threw the emperor down the shaft to save his sons life, epic! The newest flavor of Doritos, not f**king epic! Used in moderation epic is a great adjective. "How much of a f**king moron was he?" “He was a f**king epic moron.” Thus implying that he was moronic to a great size or extent. Adjectives are a great tool to convey one’s point. Some words are “super-adjectives”, and these need to be used in discretion. “Hey man, what did you think of the new M&M’s with the pretzel inside?” “Well, it was not what I was expecting.” Or, for you “epic” abusers, you could say, “Bro, I was f**king flabbergasted.”

A Few Regrets in Life

2010-09-28T13:54:00.004-04:00

The Sweat Pant Proposal

As two young kids crazy in love I couldn’t wait to marry my girlfriend. We talked about our future together and I teased her about getting engaged all the time. When I finally got her ring I was ecstatic. I dreamt up all these elaborate proposal ideas. Like getting a stunt air plane to write “I Love You” in the sky and then have a squad of care-bears parachute out of it and surround her as I galloped up to her on a unicorn and then (what the f**k are you talking about?). Anyways, yea, I wanted to do something special for her that she’d never forget. But the fact is the excitement built up too much. So one night….after she got out of the bathroom…..I took her to the living room and asked her to marry me. She obviously said yes and it was amazing. Un-f**king-fortunately she was also wearing sweat pants. Almost five years later we can be driving down the road in dead silence after eating a nice meal and she’ll look at me and scream “IN F**KING SWEAT PANTS!”. I will never live this down…ever. I honestly could have butchered her dog in front of her and then proposed and it would have been better, as long as she wasn’t wearing sweat pants. On the flip side, I did give her a memory she’ll never forget.

Arguing With an Anonymous Commenter

So I’ve been doing this “blog” thing for a good little bit now. And sometimes I solicit my stuff on reddit and sites of that nature. It’s great because I have met some new people and folks from all over the world have read my nonsense. But, the biggest nuisances are these anonymous commenter’s. Sometimes the comments are humorous, or so poorly constructed that whatever argument they were trying to make was proven invalid by their general lack of knowledge in the f**king English language. But one time I decided to defend myself. Now let me tell you, getting into an argument with anonymous commenter’s is like trying to argue with an eight year old girl who is on team Jacob. Look stupid….quit crying, I only called you stupid, look; Jacob doesn’t get the girl, get the f**k over it, stop hoping for the impossible and move the f**k on. Same with these people.

Well, I don’t really think Cyclists are ruining our nation’s youth.

-Anonymous 1

No shit, it was a joke.

-TheHaitian

Well I don’t think the author meant that as a joke.

-Anonymous 1

I’m the f**king author.

-TheHaitian

I don’t think you are.

-Anonymous 1

What, look, it says my name….right here….in front of you.

-TheHaitian

Nah….still not buying it.

-Anonymous 1

What does this guy have against bikes?

-Anonymous 2

Like OMG, I m@de s0 much m0ney fr0m h0me, @nd u c@n 2. Check 0ut http://href2v.bol.ru

-Anonymous 3

NOTHING! It’s a f**king stupid joke….Jesus, I bike myself.

-TheHaitian

You sound too fat to ride a bike.

-Anonymous 2

Well that’s beside the point, but still.

-TheHaitian

This is stupid, I hope you die!

-Anonymous 4

Well, that’s not what I would have written about in this article.

-Anonymous 1

Good for you, go f**k yourself and write your own Godd*mned article.

-TheHaitian

Saki Bombs….Are From Hell

It’s a pretty well known theory that if one is to consume massive amounts of alcohol it is generally a good idea to do it on a full stomach. Sushi however, does not apply. Some genius, who shall remain anonymous, had the wise idea to take a few Saki bombs with our sushi. For those of you who don’t know what a Saki bomb is, it is placing a shot of hot Saki on a pair of spread out chopsticks over the top of your beer, than slamming the table so the shot falls in, then pounding the whole beer with Saki shot. Essentially it’s chugging a beer that has a mild hint of warm f**king dish water. Now, Saki can be best compared to the Al Qaeda. For the most part it lies dormant, sometimes you may not know if you have encountered it or not as it doesn’t always leave an impression on you. But, if provoked enough it’ll f**k your shit up. Well after three of four I discovered that raw fish wrapped in rice and seaweed does not sit well with a pitcher of beer and a few shots of Saki. On the flip side I got my car detailed the following day.

“The Hills”….If I Were Gay This Wouldn’t be so Awkward

So one day I decide to watch some TV with my wife, as much as she wanted to see “How It’s Made” on the science channel she vetoed my nomination and settled on some quality MTV. It just so happened that they were running a “Hills” season one marathon. I said f**k it; I’ll sit here for as long as I can just to humor my wife. Five hours later I am cleaning my rifle getting prepared for my trip to LA to meet Spencer, I’m convinced that there is an alien-being living in Heidi and all I want to do is give Lauren a straw to suck it the f**k up. Quit whining, maybe if you weren’t such a dramatic little slut you wouldn’t always drop friends like Britney drops babies. (Oh…nice. Few years late, but nice). And I’ve said this before, but shut the f**k up Whitney, you’re nobody without the LC. (“the LC”…does your wife know you’re gay yet?). And I keep telling myself, “dude, you’re not gay….you just watch this to feel better about yourself”. But God help me if I’m flipping through the channels and see Heidi and Spencer getting further in debt at some ridiculous club…. I just have to watch and see what this mindless whore is doing now. Plus if my only other option is the Jeff Dunham show, well anything beats that.

Free-Ballin’……In Jeans.

Back in the day I used to work in a warehouse and one day, for whatever reason I have still yet to figure out, I decided to free-ball it for the day. In defense my logic was that it might be a little cooler on the nuts. You see balls are like a radiator for f**kin’, so you need to keep them cool. And guys back me up here; have you ever free-balled in a jeep wrangler with the doors off? Oh my God, it’s like getting a beej from a female ghost, but I digress. So there I am in the warehouse working, and the thing about jeans is when dry they can be the most comfortable leg-wear ever. Get them a little wet and it’s like having a pack of rabid piranha’s gnawing at your thighs and balls. After a few hours in the warehouse people began to take notice of the fact that I’m walking like a toddler-cowboy who just got castrated by a 16^th century medicine man. (….wow). Finally I got off work and was able to go home and get out of those sandpaper pants. But I found out that there are only a few things in life harder to explain to your wife then why you’re standing butt naked over the tub sprinkling your balls with gold-bond with one hand, waving her hair dryer in “cool” mode across your nuts with the other, screaming so loud that humans can’t even pick up the sound.

So…You’re Saying You Don’t Like It?

It’s funny how men and women view appliances and tools. If a man says “man, I really need a new cordless drill”, and he gets it for his birthday he’s like, “oh sweet, a new cordless drill”. If a woman says “Jesus, this is a piece of shit”, but she gets a new one she’s like “oh….f**king great. Just what I f**king wanted, a damn chore. Thanks. Thanks a lot asshole”. And yea, so this one time I bought my wife a vacuum for our Anniversary. It wasn’t the only gift I got her, but I got her a vacuum too. We went out to a nice dinner, came home and exchanged a few small gifts. Once we were done I decided it was time to bust out the big gun. The real prize. “Wait right there….I got one more for ya”. “What?.....What did I do? You said our old one sucks…..IT’S A F**KING DYSON BALL, it’s like the f**king Lamborghini of vacuums…..Well yea, obviously I don’t know you that well at all”. “Hey….what’s burning? It smells like burning plasti….aw crap”.

It Wasn’t That “Fun”

Now look, I love my wife and I love being married. I had a blast at the reception after it, but the physical wedding itself, no; I did not have “fun” at the actual wedding. It was beautiful, and a great moment in our life together….but come on….there were a billion lights….and you know I’m a sweaty guy to begin with. I felt like a piece of meat on a buffet spread. And we had to stand there with all these people watching…it’s just not my idea of “fun”.

“Oh, so you didn’t have fun at our wedding”

Well…no. I mean, I’d do it 10,000 times over….but no, it wasn’t "fun"

“So I’m not fun?”

What? Yes, you are fun, that’s why I married you

“But you don’t have fun with me?”

What the fu….

“Oh, I get it, marrying me was miserable”

No….What….That’s not what I’m saying

“Well then what are you saying?”

Look…..I’m just saying, the church part, and the alter part…

“Uh-huh, go on”

That part….it…it just wasn’t ‘fun’. Look, I loved getting my first drivers license….but I hated being at the DMV.

“Oh, so being married to me is like being stuck at the DMV?”

No, not all….what I was trying to get at is

“Is that I’m like the DMV. Just a pain in your ass”

No….Jesus….look crazy….

“DON’T. CALL. ME. CRAZY.”

Ok, sorry. I’m just trying to say….um…ok, riding a roller coaster is fun; waiting in line isn’t. You see?

“Oh, great, I’m a f**king roller coaster now. Fantastic. Why don’t you roller-coast your ass to the couch”

I’m sorry…..what can I do to make it up to you?

“Oh I don’t know, maybe not propose to me in f**king sweat pants!”

….you’re still mad about that?

If Only I Ruled the World

2010-08-27T13:58:00.003-04:00

Preface:

Read the f**king disclaimer at the top of this website.

Major Changes:

Ban Guns

Yes, I would ban guns. For those of you who know me personally, no, I am not on drugs. I would gladly give up all my firearms to know that there was not a single firearm in the world. However; I would make it so that every man, woman and child could openly carry a sword should they so choose. Think about how much the crime rate would drop if all violent crimes have to be committed by the sword. “Is that a sword in your pocket or was your father a f**king horse?” This would do a few things: 1^st) It would make a distinguishable difference between the common street thug and a true gangsta. 2^nd) It would eliminate most accidental deaths due to weaponry. How many times have you heard of an accidental stabbing, “well, he took his knife out to clean it, but then he rammed it in his chest four times”? 3^rd) It would make this world f**king awesome. Sword fights are cool!

Taxation

I would eliminate income tax all together. I know that sounds radical, but instead I would make up for it with an “I’m a f**king idiot tax”. Let’s face it; there are plenty of idiots out there. Rather than penalize the hard working, thrifty saver I’d implement a heavier tax on the stupid. For example, if you own an iPhone, there is no damn need to have in iPad. Should you already own in iPhone, and still feel the need for an iPad then the sales tax would sky-rocket. This would not only stabilize idiotic consumer spending, but it would still generate taxes as again, there are plenty of idiots out there. Also, I would put in place a “restaurant tax for the lazy f**ks”. This would do three things: 1^st) it would [hopefully] promote a healthier lifestyle by cooking at home, 2^nd) it would [hopefully] promote a less lazy lifestyle by having to shop for essentials and cook, thus creating more chores and responsibilities around the house, thus making people more proactive. 3^rd) it would [certainly] generate more taxes because there are plenty of idiots out there who are simply lazy f**ks. Plus, the wealthy will continue to dine out, because what’s a few extra bucks. Also, there will be an auto-tune tax in the music industry, and an excessive CGI tax in the movie industry. Maybe now visual vomit like Avatard won’t happen again. And if you make a 3D movie, prepare for stabbing!

Limit Social Networking

Social networking sites and applications would only be running during working hours. Let’s face it, after working hours its time to stop social-networking and start social-izing. Slowly but surely we’re getting into habits of putting “@” in front of anyone’s names. It won’t be too long until a hand written birthday card will read “Happy Birthday @dude”. Social networking in moderation is a good thing, don’t get me wrong. For instance, I now no longer need to attend a high-school reunion. Everyone I care to see, I see. Everyone I care to keep up with, but maintain a distanced relationship, I have online. Everyone else, f**k ‘em. (There will be a Twitter, and associated twitter applications tax. This again falls to the group of people who feel the need to have Twitter. If it is that important, than a small tax shouldn’t matter. Also, there will be a status update fee. Beyond two a day there will be a nominal five dollar fee. That way it will limit the amount of stupid shit posted, and it will make people more conscious of what they care to broadcast).

Cons in Combat

Any violent criminal who is sentenced to more than 5 years would have the option to be enrolled in a program called “Cons in Combat”. Rather than sitting in a cell all day they will be extensively trained in martial arts and sword technique. Should a major combat operation break out, we’d send the Cons first on the grounds of: you may gain your freedom, but you may never return to your country of origin. Think about it, “67 coalition force members were killed in combat this weekend”…..or “67 mass murderers, rapists, con’s and drug lords who have been sucking our tax money for years were executed at someone else’s hands”…..not too shabby, eh? In addition, some countries might think first about declaring useless wars on the basis that when it’s over they’ll have a bunch of scum with swords on their streets.

Bring Back Old Techniques of Capital Punishment

Look, in this pansy-ass society we live in, even those sentenced to death get treated like pussies. “John Majors was gently executed at 7:18pm last night. He had a beautiful death with Yanni playing in the background as he ate his last meal of caviar, prime rib, Yukon mashed potatoes and creamed spinach with truffles. After watching a back to back re-run of “I Love Lucy” the hour was finally among him. He was laid to rest on a specially designed La-Z-Boy. He was executed via DBB (Death by Bieber), a new method in which Justin Bieber whispers sweet nothings into the inmates ear until he dies of over stimulation of the Imapussy Gland”. Yea sounds pretty lame. Now, how about this: “John Majors got f**ked up last night. I mean damn, that was some Tarantino shit. First they cut slits in his ribcage and packed it with salt and Tabasco, then they tar and feathered him, carrying him to the town square where the iron maiden is kept. After “Cradle of Filth” played a duo with “Cannibal Corpse” he was led to the Iron Maiden where he spoke his last words, ‘F**k me, I’m horribly dying’…or was it ‘Duck Key has great diving’….I can’t remember, we were all wasted”. Think about it, we’ve all done something wrong before, and generally if it’s premeditated we usually think, “What’s the worst consequence”. If being keelhauled is one of them, well; f**k it, it ain’t worth it.

Smaller Changes

Cyclists will have well maintained dedicated cycling roads, only for cyclists. Cycling as a means of transportation will be illegal. God didn’t invent the car so your dumbass can cycle. If you are on a non-cycle road you will be stabbed.

Any company planning on producing a straight to DVD movie will be taxed out the ass. Maybe producers will put more thought into their garbage and wait to release a box office hit.

The day “Monday” will be changed to “F**kmeday”. Now maybe people will stop saying this stupid “someone’s got a case of the Mondays”, shit. I highly doubt you’ll hear “someone’s got a case of the F**kmedays” around the water cooler.

The electrical grid will randomly go through hour long “black-outs”. One can never truly appreciate what they have until they’ve lost it. Also, maybe this way people would become less dependant on technology.

Gays would be allowed to legally marry. It’s not like straight people got this shit figured out.

Heroine would be legalized. If you’re that f**king stupid to do heroine then consider it Darwinism weeding your dumbass out when you OD.

Saturday Night Live will finally be cancelled. It was fun for a while but this is just pathetic.

Facial hair will once again be a status symbol. We’ll bring back manliness. Men will begin to again look like Yeti-lumberjacks, and not like……not so manly.

There will be no weathermen/women. I don’t need some asshole with a blue screen to state the f**king probable. If they could actually predict something for a change my opinion might be different.

All graduating high-schoolers will have two options: college or a four year military commitment. Worked for Israel, and Israelis are bad ass.

All Microwaves will be recalled and reengineered. As we know the microwave only has two settings: still kinda cool, and mother f**king scorching hot. With the aid of MIT we will make the “just right” setting.

Anyone who sends an inspirational email or emails that end in “send this to 10 friends for good luck, or a blessed day, or whatever” will have to pick 10 of their friends to be stabbed by Storm Troopers.

There will be Storm Troopers.

“The City” will be pulled from MTV…..face it Whitney, nobody gives a shit about you without Lauren. (Uh….dude?)

Celebrities will no longer be interviewed for anything else beyond the shit they are promoting. I have nothing against whales, but I don’t need some vegan tart to tell me about the f**king whales. (What about the seagulls?). GO AWAY!

Protesters will be audited, no matter what you are protesting. If you plan to exercise the right to run your suck, then you better be able to back it up. Using a 3’x4’ piece of poster board to write “stop murdering trees” really makes you look f**king stupid.

There will be only one company in the world that manufactures and distributes bottled water. For f**k sake, how many f**king bottled water options do we really f**king need? IT’S F**KING WATER. And don’t give me this “market socialism” shit, or you’ll be stabbed.

There will be a question and answer session with Stephenie Meyer. The question, “why?” The answer, better be good….or there will be stabbing.

Any commercial that ends in a blue screen that reads “only on TV” or entices you with an offer for a second product, or all of its “accessories free” will be illegal. These products are great in concept, but complete shit in practical application.

All Thesauruses’ will be destroyed. If you’re f**king stupid, then speak like your f**king stupid. If you’re well spoken you have nothing to worry about. “I took in so much contentment from the enchanting and delicate tang of that maize dog we had at the fancy sporting grounds”. You had a G*ddamn corn-dog, now shut the f**k up!

“Labor Day” will no longer be an observed holiday, its f**king absurd. “Hey lets celebrate our jobs by taking the day off”. It’s called the weekend you idiot. Instead we will recognize “Cinco de Mayo” and “St. Patty’s Day”. Loose one, gain two. Quit your bitchin’…or you’ll be stabbed.

Only senior citizens can own Buicks, it’s easier to spot them that way. (That’s stereotyping). No, that’s profiling!

The DMV will be staffed with Chic-Fil-A employees. I have never had a bad experience at Chic-Fil-A, I have never had a good experience at the DMV.

It will be illegal to brag about/advertise how “Green you are going”. Nobody brags about washing their hands after they piss, so shut the hell up.

Denim shorts will be illegal for men. Don’t question it, you’ll be stabbed.

Last, I refuse to live in a society that allows people to breed puggles, but I can’t buy damn beer on Sunday. THERE WILL BE ALCOHOL SALES ON SUNDAY!

This message was paid for by TheHaitianActual for Supreme Chancellor!!!!!

Now accepting candidates for the title of “Darth Vader”

Authors Note:

Read the f**king disclaimer at the top of this website.

10 More Things that Piss me Off

2010-07-02T12:40:00.002-04:00

Dudes Who Use the Term “BFF”
Dude, don’t refer to another dude as your BFF. Seriously, you sound queer as hell. When a guy introduces another guy as his BFF to me all I can think is, “yea, they’ll be f**king in a few weeks”. What a stupid concept, “best friends forever”. What if one lights your kitten on fire (dude, why the f**k would you have a kitten)? Does your BFF get a free pass? Hell no! That’s why I have no “best friends”. I have friends on a scale of buddy to damn good buddy. This way at any given point should I get buddy-f**ked I can pretty much say, oh well, f**k his stupid-ass.

Adults with Instant Messaging Accounts
If you are still on an instant messaging application at this age, get a life. Ok, only, and I mean only, if you are in the military on some mountainside in the middle of Wherethef**kistan and you’re using a laptop that can barely run solitaire, then ok, maybe AIM is a better alternative to Skype when communicating back home. But if you’re living a normal civilian lifestyle and you fire up MSN messenger when you come home then you probably have very little left to live for. Ok, well maybe the new service pack upgrade for World of Warcraft is coming out, but aside from that you may as well start searching for overpasses to leap from.

People Who Wear Sunglasses at Night
There is no f**king way you just got your damn pupils dilated. I don’t believe that for a f**king second. Are you trying to mock Ray Charles? Are you trying out for the lead role as “Queer Cyclops” for the new X-Men movie? (That was a bit of a stretch, dude) Didn’t think so, now take that shit off. Are you really thinking “yea, I am so cool right now”? The only thing wearing sunglasses at night says is, “my gay lover and I got in a fight over who’s pitching and who’s catching…..I lost”.

If it’s Brown, Flush it Down; If it’s Yellow, Let it Mellow
Here’s one for you; if it came out of your body and you put it in a f**king toilet then for f**k sake, get rid of it. I’m not saying I don’t like coming into a poorly ventilated room that reeks of stale piss….well, actually that’s exactly what I’m saying (yea dude, especially if you just had asparagus, that shit’s nasty).

People Who Slam on the Brakes When They See a Cop
Do you really f**king think you’re going to get a gold star or something? “Oh my, it’s a cop. I’m going 67mph, speed limit is 65…..I better go 55, that’ll make him happy”. If I were a cop I’d give all you assholes tickets for disrupting the flow of traffic. For the love of all things sacred, maintain your g*ddamned speed. I seriously doubt the officer is going to play “Frogger” with his cruiser, so why then are you traveling at the speed of a slow f**king limp?

These F**kers who can’t Understand a Damn Map
Sadly, most people can’t read a simple damn map, and I blame you Mr. Garmin. And forget cardinal directions. Tell someone to head east and I’m sure you’ll hear “is that left or right?”. Left or right? Its east, f**king east, the opposite of west, the inbred cousin to north, I don’t f**king know; its east, people. Head east 10 miles, or, and this is just in case you have the time, head west 24,891 miles. Oh, and on your way pick me up a tortada from go f**k yourself. We come in contact with cardinal directions every day. I-75 north, I-20 west, “I live 17 miles north of Atlanta”. But when you’re leaving downtown going home and ask, “hey, which direction are we heading”, don’t be shocked when you’re told “uh…up?”.

There is no Such Thing as a Stupid Question
Guess f**king what? There are stupid f**king questions, but more so, there are stupid f**king people who think of stupid f**king shit to ask. Look dumbass, it’s 2010, if you can’t find the f**king answer to your absurd question on Google, Ask.com or Wikipedia, then shut the f**k up and don’t even ask it. As if people can’t figure out how to exhale silently so they just blurt out the first f**king random, ridiculous shit that pops into their dumbass head. I have a lot of respect for teachers; I could never do your job without a cattle prod, but quit encouraging kids to ask so many f**king questions. “There’s no such thing as a stupid question Timmy”. Sure there’s not, less we forget, Timmy is a f**king moron hopped on Ritalin because his parents claim he has ADHD. Look, he doesn’t have ADHD, he has PSFAYDKMHSLKF (Pay Some F**king Attention to Your Damn Kid and Maybe He’ll Stop Lighting Kittens on Fire). But it’s assholes like Timmy that grow up and never stop talking about the dumbest shit ever, and of course, asking some really stupid shit.

Traffic Jam’s for no Reason
Have you ever been stuck in traffic for 45 minutes then all of a sudden you realize you’re back to hauling ass? For a split second all you can think is “thank God that’s over”, but then after that sensation has worn off all you can think is “well, then why the f**k were we going so slow so long?” When I am stuck in traffic and never see what event caused it, I go ape shit. If I am sitting still that long, I’ve really come to expect to see something that will absolutely blow my mind. The only thing that could satisfy me with a wait that long would be to see a real life Jedi battle going on while Bambi is sodomizing the damn cat from Alice in Wonderland, all the while the marching band from the movie “Drumline” is playing on the closest overpass. Oh, and if I could also get the lead actor in that shit-ass movie “Avatar” to be electrocuted by Frankenstein’s master, that’d be great. (What? Are you high?).

Professionals who Use Twitter
I can’t understand why anyone would need a Twitter account, but f**k it, if you have that kind of time on your hands then good on ya. But when all these companies start opening twitter accounts you really begin to wonder how legit they are. “Follow the law offices of ****stein, *****stein, ******stein and ***burg on Twitter” (well that was anti-Semitic). I’d really like to think that all this f**king money I’m spending on suing George Lucas for f**king up the past 3 Star Wars films isn’t being wasted on your dumbass updating your damn twitter. “Dr. Jake R. Doodleshit, M.D. is now on twitter, follow him for discounts on lipoplasty”.

@DrImakeulookgud: Inserting scalpel – 4:02 from iTweetMen
@DrImakeulookgud: Holy $hit! ROFLMFAO OMG, I have never seen a nurse freak out over that much blood – 4:04 from iTweetMen
@DrImakeulookgud: LOL, I lost wherever that part went…we may need it to sew this guy back up – 4:14 from iTweetMen
@DrImakeulookgud: D@mn, another one bites the dust – 4:16 form iTweetMen
@DrImakeulookgud: YO! Me and da brosephs will be chillaxin at Swinging Richards gettinz our drunk on, fo sho! – 4:17 – from iTweetMen

People Who Take Cycling Too Seriously
This requires a little back story. It has come to my attention that I am out of shape (….uh, yea). How do I know this? Well, I sweat after exerting the effort required to open a beer can and I get winded when I smoke. So, I thought I’d run on a treadmill, but there is nothing appealing about running nowhere for 45 minutes while watching Jerry Springer; I took up swimming laps, but every time I’d rest kid’s kept trying to bounce off me as they thought I was an inflatable raft. So, I bought a bike (Oh, cause that’s not gay). I shopped around and finally got a mountain bike (Jake help you pick it out?). So I’ve been biking a few times now at a trail in Roswell and all these f**kers with their 800 dollar bikes stare at me with total disgust. “Hey, look at the fat dude on a bike” “Yea, when he got on it I heard the bike say ‘Help me!’”. “Hey tons of fun, Diamondback 300 is the model of the bike, not the weight limit”. It’s like there’s an unwritten rule that if you are serious about cycling you have to be a total prick. “Yea, I wear these spandex shorts because they allow me to be super lightning fast…..until there’s a red light”. “Uh, no, these are not Oakley’s, these are special cycling eye pieces designed by engineers at NASA. They deflect the wind and reduce drag”. You do f**king realize it’s a g*ddamned bike, right? However, I’ve learned to have fun with these assholes. I’ll show up with the new Miller Lite aluminum bottle in my water bottle holder and I smoke in the parking lot before I go for a ride. I heard this one guy say “What is that guy doing?” I looked at him and said “it’s a cigarette, you put it in your mouth and smoke on it….but you know all that, don’t ya? Homo!

Fast Food: At Least I’ll Die With a Full Stomach

2010-06-08T08:33:00.006-04:00

Preface:

So a while back I went to the doctor to have a physical since I hadn’t been in a good while. As usual I sat there and went through the same routine; some nurse took my weight, height, blood pressure, poured candle wax on my nuts to test my reflexes (uh dude, I don’t think she’s supposed to do that). It was a male nurse (oh, hahaha, you got….never mind). Anyways, after all that I waited in a ridiculous bib for the Doc to come in. When he finally arrived he looked at me and said:

“Mr. Story, I am greatly concerned for your health. You are well overweight for your age and height. From your past medical history questionnaire you drink way too much, smoke too much and you have horrible eating and exercise habits”.

At the end of his sentence I stood up and said “No f**king shit asshole, give me back my damn money”. To be honest I don’t know what I was really expecting him to say. It would be highly unlikely that he would have come in and said “Mr. Story, you’re in great shape; however, you need to take 5 of these pills. It seems you have one last growth spurt that has yet to come in. After this 5 pill regiment you’ll receive a ten foot schlong, grow 4 inches, looses 45 pounds, you’ll stop sweating like Michael J Fo (don’t do it, not again) fine, you’ll stop sweating like Stephen Hawking in a one legged ass kicking contest (…..do you want to go to hell?), you won’t need glasses anymore, your chin won’t look like an ass and you’ll no longer giggle like a little girl”. But, I guess Dr. Buzzkillington felt like keepin’ it real. Where am I going with this you may be asking, well I’ll tell ya. I usually bitch about things that piss me off but for a change I want to talk about something I love. You see, there are four things I have in my life that I am passionately in love with. My wife, my guns, my booze, and mother f**king fast food! There are very few pleasures that can bring me the same satisfaction as a bag full of grease and a large fountain drink. So without further ado, I give you fast food.

Fast Food: At Least I’ll Die With a Full Stomach

A great thing about America is whatever we want we want now and we want options with it. Fast food is no different. If you don’t feel like driving 5 miles to a KFC, well then we’ll build one 2.5 miles away from the other one. You can go to the most podunk f**kin’ town in the middle of bumf**k nowhere and still get French fries in less than 3 minutes. Fast food screams two things, lazy and convenient; and I am all about both. It’s so true, fast food is everywhere you look, and I just love how companies merge their stores with fast food. I was driving down the road and noticed my truck was running on fumes so I pulled into a BP (Oh hell no! What about the poor seagulls!!). Right, anyways, I’m there filling up the tank (You gave them money? You gave THEM money? It’s bad enough you drive a truck, but you also feed the seagull killing machine) and what do I see….a McDonalds attached to the station! It’s great because we all know that nothing goes better with a full tank of gas than a half pounder, that’s two quarter pounders for you non mathematicians. Like I said, it’s so convenient; I can get gas, smokes, beer, a large combo, and be dead by 10. One time I was in an Ingles in south Georgia that had a Wendy’s in it and I thought to myself, what a great idea. What’s better than shopping for food? Shopping for food while eating food! (yea, enjoy your heart attack buddy, courtesy of the seagulls!).

Now originally fast food was just burgers and such, but oh how it has evolved. We can now have all three meals handed to us in our cars. And that my friends, is fantastic! I love getting breakfast from a fast food joint, and my favorite fast food breakfast delicacy has to be the donut. Every time I bite into a glazed donut I swear I hear angels singing in my mouth. The only thing I can really say I hate about my body is that I can only carry ten donuts. GOD GIVE ME TWO MORE FINGERS! Or stop selling donuts in the dozens. Sometimes my donut fetish can get embarrassing. We’ll have donuts brought into work and I’ll go in the break room and grab a donut, go back to my office and eat it. Then I’ll go back to get another one but I’ll grab a hat first. This way I trick the security cameras so they think it’s someone else. I’ve gotten creative now; I have an orange vest and a hard hat, so that gives me at least 4 donut grabbing configurations. What I love most about donuts is someone, somewhere listened to me. I won’t lie; it is kind of embarrassing if you eat more than three donuts…..so now we have the munchkin! Being bite size we all can agree you can’t just have one….or nineteen. If I wake up not feeling like an amateur axe murderer about to go professional I’ll stop in at Dunkin Donuts and get my usual 25 count munchkin box. Don’t be too quick to judge, I don’t eat them all….in the morning. It’s so much fun because 9 hours later you come back to your vehicle and what is this….what is this? Warm, stale munchkins! And here I thought I was having a bad day, hell no, this is spectacular.

Another great thing about fast food is when you’re there it’s such a great experience. It starts with ordering; the menu is back lit, on the wall, and has pictures! It’s like how a football kicker visualizes the punt, well I like to visualize my plate. I don’t even want to think of how many opportunities I would have missed if it weren’t for the pictures. And then you have the order taker, I love these guys. “Would you like fries with that”? F**k yea I want fries, oh my God, I can’t believe I almost forgot. You’re a lifesaver dude, you totally saved me a second trip, and I hate getting up after I have already sat down. “For 29 cents more you can have it supersized”. Well holy shit, THAT my friend is a deal. Clark Howard can kiss my ass, 29 cents is a steal. 33% more coke, 40% more fries, only 29 cents, come out from around that counter so I can hug ya. But the neatest part is the fountain drink machine. Have you ever noticed that a fountain drink dispenser sounds a lot like a stadium full of people cheering when you’re filling a cup? I like to think it’s a packed house and everyone is screaming my name. I can just hear it now, “Here comes young Martin Story, a rising star weighing in at 205 pounds (hahahaha, you’re full of shit, dude) from Roswell, Ga. He’s already filled a quarter of his cup with pink Hi-C, approaching the Sierra Mist, he hits the metal trigger thingy…..AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!”. Obviously I am at Taco Bell, otherwise it’d be Pink Minute Maid Lemonade and Sprite.

A fantastic part of fast food that you don’t really get in the restaurant industry is the innovation and creativity. For example, the crunch wrap from Taco Bell. Brilliant! I have always, always said: I love quesadilla’s, and I love tostadas, why can’t we make them into one…..and behold, the crunch wrap. It….Is….Awesome. It’s a seven inch disc of pure, in your face, awesomeness. And what is so cool on a personal level is my lap top back pack has the perfect crunch wrap holder. I guess its for portable CD players (yea…like those exist anymore), but it is like LL Bean one day said “you know, lets give this Marty kid a break, design him the ultimate Crunch Wrap/Lap Top carrying bag”. But they don’t stop there, Taco Bell is pure genius. “Folks, this is the new Grilled Steak Stuffed Burrito, it’s got steak, beans, rice, cheese, enchilada sauce, lettuce, tomato and cilantro….but we feel its missing something”. Well sir, I think it’s missing a taco supreme. “My Lord Jim, that’s why we pay you the big bucks. Make it happen people, take a picture of it and slap it on the wall”. What about Wendy’s, they took everything chicken on their menu and said, you know what, lets make everything have a “spicy” option. One day I had Wendy’s for all three meals. Chicken biscuit for breakfast, spicy chicken sandwich and spicy nuggets for lunch, and a spicy chicken sandwich and spicy nuggets for dinner. Sure, I couldn’t feel my arms for a while, and I farted spicy bread crumbs for a few days, but it was well f**king worth it.

All in all, fast food simply makes us happy. (Except for you idiots that refuse to eat fast food, but ya’ll aren’t happy with a damn thing anyways). Look at terrorism, I bet if they had Wendy’s they wouldn’t be so f**kin’ upset. And God knows if they had Chic-Fil-A they’d instantly turn over every RPG they had to coalition forces. Here’s a good one, and this is true. Originally the Death Star was to be commissioned as a Sandals resort. No shit, it was to be called “Sandals In Space”. But what’s the one thing they forgot to put it? A f**king Burger King. I can honestly say I don’t blame old Mr. Palpatine in the least bit. If I were a retired senator being offered to take command of a bad ass space resort I’d be thrilled….and then when they tell me the nearest Taco Bell is 7 parsec’s away, well, I’d be blowing shit up too. We can’t deny it, it makes us happy. When I get dragged to the f**king mall to shop for some ridiculous horse shit I pout and moan and bitch and complain…up until the point my wife says “I’ll take you to Baskin Robins”. Can I have a double scoop? “You can have whatever you want”. F**k yea!, I’m getting ice-cream.

However, above all, the best thing about fast food is the fact that it is socially acceptable to eat fast food alone. Think about it, you don’t take a date to Burger King. “Girl, I am so happy when I’m with you. You’re the best thing I’ve got going for myself. And I wanted to show it to you in a Value Meal”. If you take a person you’re dating to dinner at a fast food joint within the first months, you might as well be prepared for the single life again. On the contrary, if you go to a place like Maggiano’s or Ray’s on the River by yourself, well that’s just awkward. It pretty much says, “well, I’d like to enjoy one last meal before I light myself on fire and jump off an overpass”. But at fast food, it’s totally cool! The great part about eating by yourself is you get to act like yourself. Now I’m no little kid, and I sure as hell don’t eat like one either. I guarantee you if I had a third arm I’d require a third carrying tray too. I go to Taco Bell on my own and the lady at the counter looks at me like “….yea….is that all for you?”. And I look at her like “yea….go f**k yourself”. It is a little awkward at moments, when just one person is sitting at the table with two purple trays. I feel like one day Ricki Lake is going to have some intervention at Taco Bell and come up to me:

“Son, is anyone sitting here?”

Shaking my head no because my mouth is full

“Oh, I thought so with the second tray there”

Still shaking my head no, taking another bite

“Are we celebrating something? That’s an awful lot of food”

Looking at the piles of cellophane wrappers, taking another bite, shake my head no again

“Oh, just dining alone?”

Shaking my head yes, wondering what this bitch wants

“Are you depressed?”

Shake my head no, but thinking: I’m not depressed but I sure am getting angry

“Do you mind if I talk to you while you eat?”

Looking around at the cameras she brought with her. Another bite, shrug my shoulders

“Do you realize that you are eating almost 4 pounds of grade F meat?”

Looking down at my 3 crunchy taco supreme’s, taking another bite of my steak crunch wrap, shake my head no

“Do you realize that 63.1% of Americans were either overweight or obese in 2009?”

Rolling my eyes, taking another bite, thinking: ok, it’s time for your ass to go

“And son, I hate to be the one to tell you, you’re in that 63.1%”

Finish chewing, putting down my steak crunch wrap, taking a deep breath. Looking her in the eyes I say:

Look you f**king twat, do you realize you’re really G*d damned annoying? Before I tell you to piss the f**k off and leave me the f**k alone, shut that cock holster you call a mouth and let me explain this shit to you. I have all this f**king food because I didn’t know if I wanted a crunch wrap, or a grilled steak stuffed burrito, or two chalupas, or a gordita, or 3 crunchy tacos or the new tortada, or some nachos bell f**king grande. I get a little overwhelmed when I see pictures of food, but then I thought to myself, well f**k me, they’re all only 89 damn cents so why the hell not get them all. I’m not a wasteful f**k so here I am eating it all. Now this is where you go deeper into your “unhealthy America” spiel but let me tell you this: your dumbass will die too. If not by aids from all these assholes in Trader Joes, then by some form of cancer from smoking, or the sun, or from soda, or from plastic water bottles, or from cell phones, or from my own damn nutsack, or from making three unprotected left turns, or from some other random f**king ridiculous study. And if it’s not cancer, then it’ll be global damn warming from driving a f**king truck. Or somehow this oil spill will kill me (what about the seagulls!), shut the f**k up with the seagulls already. Or if not aids, cancer, global warming or oil, then it will be from driving down the road with some idiotic ADHD teenager listening to Seether, hopped up on Ritalin, plowing into me while texting his other asshole, Ed Hardy wearing freinds. And if none of this manages to kill me, then yes, my fat ass will die from eating this shit. Now, do you realize 50% of all statistics are made up? Well let me tell you one statistic that always holds true, 100% of the time someone pisses me off while eating I will go off on them. That’s why I shut the f**k up when I’m eating, I don’t want someone to ruin my damn moment. So in conclusion let’s weigh it out; aids, cancer, the earth, oil, some asshole or food. Well let me f**king think this one over. You see, do you see now? If I’m going to die at least I’ll die with full stomach. Now go piss the f**k off and leave me the f**k alone before I spray fire sauce in your eyes.

10 things I do that annoy my wife.

2010-04-16T13:27:00.005-04:00

Yea, I know what you're thinking, "no way, how could he possibly be annoying to live with"? I know, that's what I said, but apparently there are a few things that get on her nerves, and here they are:

You always, always protest my ideas. Then finally go along with them, only to take credit when it works out better.

Whaaaaaat? Nah.

You physically push me through any store with price tags in an effort to speed me along.

Look woman, you freakin take forever. We could be at a damn lemonade stand that only sells one kind of lemonade in only one size f**king cup, and you would still stand there for 15 minutes looking at the price. Then you’d go on mobile.amazon.com to compare the f**king price of lemonade, then you’d call your Mom, K**** and C****** to get their opinion. Finally you’d decide “oh, I really want this lemonade, but I don’t think I should buy it now”. Once we’re 10 minutes down the road all you’ll do is talk about how you really should have gotten some f**king lemonade. That’s why I push you, the less you are able to see the less time we spend in stores.

You won't eat beans of any kind. You’re Cuban for crying out loud!

OK…so….I crap too much, but I don’t eat enough beans? And I do eat “Pinto’s and Cheese”, but I can’t find a Del-Taco anywhere here. And last, don’t you mean COL (crying out loud)….kinda like LOL. (Dude, that was gay….really, just gay).

You won't exhale when you sneeze. You hold it in and then complain how much it hurt.

No I don’t. Ok, I do. But look, I don’t want to sneeze in the air, that’s gross. Nor do I want to sneeze into my hand. A sneeze is like a spit shotgun, do you like spitting in your hand? I don’t. So I hold it in.

You make fun of my dog incessantly.

We have a dog? Oh….you’re talking about that domesticated rat who lives with us? Look, she shakes non stop; craps everywhere; she’s deaf; wants inside when she’s outside, outside when she’s inside, but if you leave the door open she won’t even notice it; puts off no heat in the winter then in the summer turns into a space heater on crack; if she does decide to crap outside she’ll only do it within a 3 foot radius of where the concrete ends, so to walk in the backyard you have to leap over the edge like there’s a coal bed on the ground; she only drinks water once a day, which is right before we go to bed where she’ll drink every drop in her bowl without stopping, then she’ll take two steps and proceed to gag and spit it all up. So here’s the deal, when your “dog” quits bothering me, I’ll stop making fun of her.

You complain of aches and pains and won't take medicine to fix it (just like every other man). Do you whine just for the point of whining? If you’re not going to let me fix it, then shut it!

So? (it is what it is). Yes. No.

Look, if every time I get an itty bitty wittle booboo, or a tummy hurt, or whatever the hell and take medicine then eventually I’ll depend on it. And if something happens and I don’t have my medicine then I’ll freak out. So I instead drink my way through the pain. Unlike like aspirin, I always have booze nearby…..ever wondered why we have 3 beer fridges…..ever notice my keychain flask…..oh yea.

You always say Grey dies after that Grey's Anatomy episode where she drowned. It’s been 2 years, she’s the lead role; she can’t die!

Hey…..hey……don’t ignore me…..hey… “WHAT?!......” Grey dies. “Shut up”. No really, I wikipedia’d it.

You won't let me listen to my music in MY car when I drive. And you won’t let me pick the music when you drive. I never win.

Cause it f**king sucks. I’m sorry but I simply don’t give a flaming shit that your “London Bridge is falling down”, or what was that other one….oh yea, Danity Kane. Yea, those tone deaf whores had to have been so confused. “Like wait…I….I don’t think I’ve ever really danced without a pole”. Pop music is nothing more than noise, just noise. And saying a Pop Star is talented is like saying a hotdog you ate was exquisite. It’s a f**king hotdog, I don’t care what you put on it, its still a damn hotdog. You never hear anyone say “Oh honey, do you remember that hotdog we had last year for our anniversary…..oh yea, it was to die for”. No, no the hell you don’t. Same with Pop Stars, they’re talentless sluts with enough dignity to keep their clothes on (sometimes) who have been introduced to autotune. And I understand that you like it, and like the beat, and want to dance and all that shit, I just don’t want to be filming “So You Think You Can Dance” in your passenger seat.

You ALWAYS hate on Twilight, but love all things Jedi and Star Wars.

FYI...JUST AS DORKY!

Blasphemy, burn her!

Right before I fall asleep, you’ll randomly jump on top of me with all of your weight and say “think quick; I just had a stroke, I’m non-responsive. What do you do?”

Well, this could happen. You need to be prepared. (And please stop kicking me in the nuts, I know that works in my simulation, but if I’m non-responsive I’ll still just lay there)

Groups I’d like to start on facebook, but probably never will.

2010-04-08T12:26:00.008-04:00

No matter how stocked the fridge is I never want to eat anything in it.
This is simple, no matter what I want, no matter if I have it, I’d still rather eat out. I could have everything to make tacos, but I end up going to “El Monterrey” instead. I’ve never figured this out, but I’ve learned not to fight it.

Oh yea you stupid redneck, how do you think the Native Americans feel?
“I ain’t pressin’ no goddamned 1 for English. Yall muthaf**ker’s needs to be speaking American, yahear”. Let me explain this for you, before you’re father-uncle screwed your grandmother-mother, you were southerners. Before that you were Pilgrims, before that you were British, before that probably Greek, before that most likely Mesopotamians, and before that, African. (‘tha f**k you ‘jis say?) Around the time your inbred family were Mesopotamian hunter-gatherer’s there were these other hunter-gatherer’s called….well who the f**k knows what they called themselves, but we now know them as “Native Americans”. Then your crooked teethed ancestors from across the pond came over and took their shit, treated them like ass, and raped them of their land. Hell if anything it should be “press 1 for Choctaw, 2 for Seminole, 3 for Mi’gmaq….”.

I can never remember to honk.
Some stupid f**k will cut me off or do some other act of vehicular-idiocy and I never remember to honk. Don’t get me wrong, I flick the bird and scream “HEY F**K-KNUCKLES, get the f**k out of my f**king way you sonofabitch”, but my windows are up. I hate that I can’t remember to honk in time. Then 15 seconds later when this f**k is a quarter mile ahead of me I remember and honk. Then some jackass in a minivan is looking at me like I have a scrotum attached to my forehead because I ended up honking at them. BUT!, when I do remember to honk at the opportune time, damn is it rewarding. (I bet if I lived in Miami I’d never miss an opportunity to honk).

I love my iPhone, but c’mon, quit posting the same shit 3 times in a row.
I don’t know if it’s just my phone, or all iPhones, but when I post a comment/status on facebook it seams to always freeze. Then I cancel, resubmit…. freeze…. cancel…. resubmit…. freeze… cancel…. ah f**k it, close the app. Re-open facebook and it says “Martin Thomas Story II really want’s Del Taco. really want’s Del Taco. really want’s Del Taco.” And of course you can’t delete from the iPhone so it just sits there until the next day with 3 repeats and 4 different friends all commenting “oh, I guess Marty REALLY wants Del Taco”.

I love my iPhone, but c’mon, quit posting the same shit 3 times in a row.
I don’t know if it’s just my phone, or all iPhones, but when I post a comment/status on facebook it seams to always freeze. Then I cancel, resubmit…. freeze…. cancel…. resubmit…. freeze… cancel…. ah f**k it, close the app. Re-open facebook and it says “Martin Thomas Story II really want’s Del Taco. really want’s Del Taco. really want’s Del Taco.” And of course you can’t delete from the iPhone so it just sits there until the next day with 3 repeats and 4 different friends all commenting “oh, I guess Marty REALLY wants Del Taco”.

I love my iPhone, but c’mon, quit posting the same shit 3 times in a row.
I don’t know if it’s just my phone, or all iPhones, but when I post a comment/status on facebook it seams to always freeze. Then I cancel, resubmit…. freeze…. cancel…. resubmit…. freeze… cancel…. ah f**k it, close the app. Re-open facebook and it says “Martin Thomas Story II really want’s Del Taco. really want’s Del Taco. really want’s Del Taco.” And of course you can’t delete from the iPhone so it just sits there until the next day with 3 repeats and 4 different friends all commenting “oh, I guess Marty REALLY wants Del Taco”.

I’ve requested PTO just to sleep in.
Yup.

I doubt the world will end in 2012, but in case it does I plan to be totally f**ked up.
I know it’s not going to happen, but like I said, just in case I am going to be totally shit faced. If I end up being the first human that were to make contact with the first extra terrestrial being they’d just look at me and say “myop yay nie ting nanoo nanoo”. (oh hell naw culero, this shit ain’t worth it, mang”. (Really dude? Mexican aliens…that’s weak). I think this is just an excuse for drinkers around the world to throw a massive party and get completely wasted. But if you a serious drinker any given Tuesday is a good enough excuse to get wasted. Booyah!

Light mayonnaise is about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of.
What the f**k is this? It’s like hoping to have a mild heart attack, or a “light” stroke. This is my theory: eat the regular mayonnaise and then park in the back of the parking lot, and take the stairs. These moron’s who eat diet everything then circle a parking lot like a f**king shark to get the first spot next to the handicap space are simply that, morons. “Oh, I’m on a diet, and I’m going to loose weight, all the while still being a lazy f**k”. Light mayonnaise, what’s next; half calorie Twinkies?

I secretly listen to techno in the day time.
I know, I know. If you listen to techno in the day time, well, that is about the dumbest thing ever. You really do look like an ass jamming out to DJ So-N-So at 5:15pm, but….there is something about techno that makes the ride seam that much faster. It’s like one long-ass song. I could listen to classic rock on the way home (which is what I did prior to the discovery of the XM button on my truck) and the songs were great, but it felt so long. Then I found XM81 BPM. My 45 minute ride turns into nh-ssst, nh-ssst, nh-ssst, “BASS”, nh-ssst, nh-ssst, nh-ssst, “BASS…..BASS”, nh-ssst, nh-ssst……Oh shit I’m home!

I never let my friends drive home drunk…..unless they assure me they’re “cool”.
Seriously, this one is kinda f**ked up. But, we all do it. And don’t say you don’t, ‘cause you do. “Dude….dude….there is like…no way I can let you drive home….you’re f**king hammered man”. “nah, nah, I got this….I’m cool man”. “Oh…in that case I’ll see you Monday”. Yea….you know you’ve done this.

What the f**k is the point of morning wood?
This is just awkward. As if your dick is so excited about waking up “WELL HELLO!!!!” And it’s not like you can play it off or anything. “Hey, hey look….I taught my penis a new trick. ‘point at the ceiling….point at the ceiling…..good penis’”. Yea, that just doesn’t work. Then when you get out of bed you have to do that weird “hands in your underwear” walk to the bathroom. Your wife looks at you like “really, are you whacking off on the way to pee?”. “Uh, no…I’m just….uh, I’m just tapping my nuts. It helps me wake up”. And if you have to piss with morning wood you mine as well just go in the backyard. I swear, in my next house I’m going to hang a bathtub on the wall and use it as a floor to ceiling urinal.

Sometimes I’m so f**king lazy that I won’t even finis

Authors Disclaimer:
....there is none. Nobody should be offended by this. If you are well then you're an idiot.

Facebook Etiquette

2010-02-09T08:47:00.009-05:00

Acronyms
I can get on board with the usual “lol”, “rofl” and all that shit. But when these f**kers who start making 10 digit acronyms because they’re too damn lazy to type it out, I really begin to loose my freakin mind. Seriously though, I don’t want to feel like I’m trapped in the Divinci Code trying to decipher your stupid f**king response. OMGITISMLSH.OC!ILTQITO…F Oh my god I think I shit myself laughing so hard. OH CRAP! I left the quiche in the oven….f**k.

"…"
Quit posting this “….” shit at the end of your status or response. What am I supposed to do with this, guess if you really meant it? Like the profound f**king statement you just made about being back at work is to be continued? Are you second guessing yourself? “I ate a Chic-Fil-A and it was awesome…. (uh, I think)”. Here’s another one, you post “lol….”, what the f**k is this, man? Is your laughing some unsolved mystery? Should I get Scooby Doo and the stoner to investigate?

Comment vs. Like
I don’t have a problem with people “liking” a status, or with commenting on a status, or both. But don’t “like” a status and then comment with “yea”. No shit. The “yea” is implied by your act of “liking”, you jackass. And let’s try to keep comments on topic, nothing pisses me off more than some jackass commenting, and then adding some trivial shit to the topic. Now I get 15 emails between a bunch of idiots discussing which Nickleback video sucks the most when my original post was about how prunes and Coors Lite give me gas.

Political Views
Yea, so this one time I was in a meeting and I had to sneeze. Instead of making a loud scene I figured I’d hold it in, which didn’t work out so well as I found out air must go somewhere, in this case a fart. Needless to say it was kinda uncomfortable; you know the kind where you’re sitting with all your weight on one cheek thinking, “damn….I should really go check”. Yea, so that’s how I feel when I see all this political propaganda posted everywhere. Even if we agree on everything we don’t need it broadcasted, it simply leaves ya with a weird feeling. This isn’t the forum for this debate, for everything you like, someone else hates it. So why create the animosity amongst online friends, all 1318 of them (and yea, I’m sure you keep in touch with them all).

Religious Beliefs
See above.

“Like”
We’re in the year 2010 so it’s pretty much becoming socially acceptable to say “like” in between every brain-fart you call a thought. “Like, I was so, oh my God, like, blown away by So You Think You Can Dance”. How-f**king-ever; if you type out “like” in your status/post then you’re a damned idiot. How do you feel knowing YOU fuel the Al Qaeda? Honestly, facebook needs to start putting asterisks next to certain names. At the bottom of facebook it shall read: “An asterisked name signifies that this person is indeed a f**king moron. Thank you, facebook staff”.

Fan pages
I think fan pages are great. You don’t want to waste everyone’s “news-feed” with shit your group is doing, so make a fan page. But, don’t invite every person you know to join your damn group if it doesn’t pertain to them. Look, I live in Atlanta; so I really don’t give a flaming shit about your neighborhood badminton team in Hauppauge, New York. Also, why the f**k are you playing badminton? Ping Pong too fast paced for ya? Just use some discretion people, and go play with your shuttlecock.

Friend Suggestions
Here’s another good one. If you and I are talking about someone and I say “yea, he sure is one stupid dip-shit of a person”, and then that person joins facebook, don’t suggest I be his damn friend. It really makes me look like an asshole when this turd posts on my wall “hey man, how’ve ya been?”, and I reply with “go f**k yourself”. All because you just thought I’d just love to catch up with him. By the way dickhead, you know that time I told you I don’t have a problem with you, I’m just having a bad day; I was only kidding, I can’t f**king stand you, and chances are I think you’re queer.

Your Kids
To all the moms and dads of facebook, I wish your child the best. Seriously, you’re blessed to have a family and I hope your children live life to the fullest. I hope you share great times, great laughs, and make many fond memories. BUT, I don’t want to f**king here everything your kid did today. What the f**k am I supposed to do with knowing that little Woggie-Bear got a boo boo while making poo poo? Should I send a f**king get well card? Let me explain about why social networking sites aren’t for family updates. A few years ago this dude named Alex had a deaf wife and mom. So one day he invented the phone. Why? How the f**k should I know, maybe to call his dad. I don’t remember where I was going with that…but I guess what I’m trying to get at is: If I want to know how your kid is doing, I’ll call your ass and ask.

Linking Twitter to Facebook
What the f**k! These are two sites for a reason! I’ve said this time and time again, you’re not that damn important that we need an hourly update to what the f**k you’re doing. But, for the douche bags that are curious Twitter was created. Most likely by some asshole in his early 30’s living in his mothers’ basement who publicly wears denim shorts. And then, some asshole in his late 40’s who branched out and got an apartment plastered with Hayden Panettiere posters decided it would be a novel idea to merge a Twitter account to a facebook account. What a jackass. If facebook is reading this, please limit status updates to 2 per day. This twitter to facebook shit has become the door-to-door salesman of social networking. Leave me the f**k alone, and NO, I don’t give a shit that you just turned left into your proctologist’s office. Go iFuckyourself.

From the Wife

2010-02-04T14:06:00.007-05:00

So I asked my wife to send me a list of weird things I do for something I was working on…..but its pretty good, so I figured I’d post them......and include my responses to them.

You pace when you talk on the phone, you can't just sit and talk.
I’m trying to get in shape….every little step counts. Get off my balls.

Sweat when you eat hot food.
It’s funny how hot shit has that affect on me.

You do not speak when you eat.
No shit, I’m eating.

You wear your bathrobe as soon as you change from work clothes. Wear it to watch TV, do dishes, and grill outside.
Have you ever worn a robe? They rule. If I wouldn’t look like a f**king lunatic I’d wear it everywhere.

You wake up in the middle of the night for OJ.
I like Orange Juice, and if I happened to have a dream about it and woke up, then I’m gonna get some.

Have hundreds of hats and only wear about 4.
Hats make statements. Miller Lite, the American Flag, Jeep, Trane. There are all statements I can get behind. But “Show me your’s and I’ll show you mine”….that’s not a statement I want to make every day.

Use the restroom all day long.
You’re the one who said I’m full of shit.

All your voices, like the one for Sugar. (Sugar is our 16 year old deaf dog)
Well, I imagine if she could talk she’d sound like Helen Keller as an old lesbian. And sometimes I think she has shit worth saying, so I communicate it for her.

Hate butterscotch but keep ordering it on cookies and cream ice cream only to say you don’t like the combination, and it tastes weird. All in the hopes it’ll one day taste good.
Yea, well one day it just might taste great, and imagine how f**king happy I’ll be.

Find a favorite at a restaurant and stick. Then tell me what to order.
I don’t like to be disappointed. I’d rather eat vicariously through you.

You eat Vienna sausages and yellow rice. Nasty!
You eat Humus. Humus tastes like wet ass. I have never had wet ass, but I imagine that is what it must taste like.

Say random things in the morning that make no sense.
It’s the f**king morning, it doesn’t even count.

10 Things that are Ruining America’s Youth

2009-12-11T10:03:00.005-05:00

Themed Parties
I have no problem with a Christmas party during Christmas, or a birthday party on your birthday…..but sending out an invitation in the middle of April that reads “Come join us for a Pirate Party, Nyarrrrr”. What the hell is that? Not that I am saying I wouldn’t want to drink a few beers wearing an eye patch, but are you fucking kidding me? This is why we have Halloween. If you really think about it you’re inviting someone to spend their free time with you, AND giving them homework. “Oh, I’d really love to go to Bob and Martha’s party, but I just don’t own any fur suits, and they made it quite clear it is an Ewok party”. As good of a job you did turning your living room into the moon of Endor I still think this is a bit bizarre. Yes, yes we’re all Ewoks, but I swear to Christ if you poke at me with that stick one more time I will beat you like a Swedish wife.

Affliction Clothing
“I paid 90 bucks for this shirt, brah; and I love fighting!”. Yea, tell ya what, give me 80 and I’ll kick you in the nuts and hand you a Fruit of the Loom. There, ya saved 10 bucks.....that's 10 bucks you can use towards the purchase of some hair-style products. Sure your t-shirt with a tattoo designed on it is cool and all, I guess, but…..why didn’t you just get a bad ass tattoo? You’re probably the same asshole that buys your t-shirts two sizes too small. It’s easy to spot these fuckers out, you see them everywhere and they’re all the same. The same dude with a shirt so tight you can perfectly make out the trendy Celtic cross necklace under it, sleeves all the way up to the armpits, hair gelled, leather wrist bands (like they’re about to do battle with a Viking), expensive “fuck-me” jeans and some ridiculous yum-yum Arnette sun glasses. Wait….didn’t I see you in a Nickelback Video?

This New Rock/Metal Shit
Nickelback, Sick Puppies, Seether, Breaking Benjamin, etc. What the hell is it with yall? You sold yourselves out. The shame is as musicians playing instruments its some good stuff, but the second your spiked haired, Ed Hardy shirt wearing front man opens his mouth it goes to shit. This new genre of Mommy-Metal is killing our youth. Quit singing about fighting, fucking in cars, money, hot girls, etc. That’s what radio-rap is for. I’ve never been to a Seether concert, nor do I plan to, but I can just imagine a sea of Affliction shirts, reeking of the newest Axe body spray. A ton of douche bags eye fucking everyone else’s girlfriends, fights breaking out (not real fights, just a lot of “oh yea, I’m so like all up in your face….what!?”) singing the lyrics. Horrible. What happened to the real songwriters, the lyrical intelligence? I’m not suggesting every song be some earth shattering enlightening eye opener, but damn, can we not put some thought into it? Zeppelin did it, Dire Straits did it, the Doors did it, Who did it……so I guess what I’m asking is why the fuck can’t you?

TV Hospital Drama’s (really just one in particular)
You know what America needs, another hospital drama….I think its time. Really though, what channel doesn’t have a doctor show? I would have liked to sit in on one of the board meetings.

“Well folks, we need something new, something funny and savvy, but emotionally deep enough to keep people tuned in”
“How about a funeral home drama?”
“Too much”
“College drama?”
“Not serious enough”
“How about….ok, now work with me here, how about a Hospital drama?”
(pause)
“I think you’re on to something. I mean, it worked for NBC, TNT, FX, Fox, Comedy Central, USA, Lifetime, Oxygen, Nickelodeon, why couldn’t it work for us here at ABC”

And another one is born. “Oh he’s not going there; he wouldn’t dare mock ‘Grey’s Anatomy’”. “OH….YES…..HE…..IS”. And how politically correct, you got a big girl, hot girl, smart girl, Asian girl, black girl, black guy, hot guy (what the fuck did I just say?), tough guy, and a gay guy playing a sensitive pansy guy……and through and through they’re all good friends….kinda. Like this shit really happens. And the women of the show suck. Katherine Heigl’s character, quit trying to be so damn inspirational. Meredith Grey, quit squinting your damn eyes. Asian doctor Christina Yang, quit squinting your damn “oh…not cool dude, not cool”. The only thing Grey’s Anatomy goes to show is that yes, a soap opera can be successful in a primetime slot. These shows are impregnating our youth with wild fantasies, “Hell yea I’d like to knock up Katherine Heigl”. 8-10 years later you have some disgruntled doctor working on you like a mechanic on a car. Pissed off because he’s a nobody doctor working every weekend, paying umpteen thousand dollars in debt and the closest thing looking like Katherine Heigl is some queer dude who has a “flat” in midtown. (By the fucking way, there are no "flat’s" in Atlanta).

Smoke Free Bars
Really? I can side with smoke free restaurants, but leave the bars alone. “I just hate going to a bar and reeking of smoke”. Then drink at home! It’s a bar…you go to a bar to drink, smoke, shoot the shit. I have yet to go to the Derby and see a bible study, or a club discussing “Little Women”. If you want to ban something in bars, ban hip hop. Do you know how fucking stupid it is to hear Fergie in the Highlands?

Twitter
Are you really that interesting that you feel the need to have more than a Facebook status to notify the world on what you’re up to? “Did you hear, did you hear? Ashton Kutcher took a shit”. “Aw, no way!”. And to you Twitter followers, or twitter’s…..no that sounds weird; let’s just call you idiots. To you idiots, what do you really do with knowing everyone’s up-to-the-minute status? And for all of you who feel the need for an every other minute post, it’s starting to get a little out of hand. Quit broadcasting so many of your damn personal problems.

TheHaitainActual: is starting to think this cyst is growing.
@ImaFukinDoc: dude, you should get that looked at.
@ImMarriedtotheHaitan: that’s gross.
TheHaitianActual: I think there’s blood in my stool.
@ImMarriedtotheHaitan: you’re not sleeping in the good sheets until you get that looked at. I know
@ImMarriedtotheHaitan: how much you fart in your damn sleep.
TheHaitianActual: Damnit woman, what did I say about posting personal shit?

Cyclists
There is a huge difference between road cyclists and mountain bikers. Mountain bikers are cool, cyclist blow. Let me tell ya how much I enjoy some douche in spandex holding up traffic. The only thing worse than being stuck behind a cyclist is getting stuck behind a school bus. At least you can run a cyclist off the road. And to you dumbass cyclists, what the hell is it with yall riding directly on top of the white line on the road? They paved a nice wide shoulder for you to ride in, so why the fuck does half your body insist on perverting my lane? And if you see me jogging (hahahahaha…..yea) don’t scream “Passing on your left!” Just whiz the hell by me. In the event that I spontaneously decide to lie down in the road just run over my dumbass. The last time some dude came out of nowhere and screamed “Passing on your left!” I nearly shit. How about this, if you say passing on your left, I’ll say “hockin’ a loogie on the left”.

Organic Shit
As far as I can tell our parents all seem relatively fine. They never had all this organic shit, hell they most likely were getting shots of mercury as kids. Look at my old man, he never had any of that crap. He does eat some Tofu, and sure he’s an asshole, but those are personal choices. Hell, I’m an asshole, and to be quite frank it’s fun. Call me stupid (no really, do it) but this organic trend is nothing more than a marketing scheme. And what really kills me is this organic meat, or whatever the hell it’s called. It doesn’t get any more organic then going hunting and eating your kill. But oh “it’s too gamey”. Gamey my ass, how the hell does it get any more organic then a wild fucking animal. However, animals in nature are a little too organic for my taste; personally I’d rather eat the store bought chemically fed, steroid popping meat. I’ve seen wild animals eat their feces and I’d like to think that this guy sitting on my plate has never eaten feces. Now as far as produce, you organic freaks are fucking up the economy. Think of all the poor chemists you’re screwing over. These guys spent their careers making shit that kills pests and not humans, and now you’re taking it away from them. Shame on you. But I think what really gets to me is not the actual products themselves, it’s the people who use them. Let’s look at Trader Joe’s, now I love their wine, but aside from that I hate going there. The only feeling I get from shopping there is that if some dude farts I might get aids. “Oh my Lord I can’t believe he just said that”. Yea, I did. There’s nothing more obnoxious then some hippy trying to sell you soy products. “Hey maaaaan, if you buy this soy butter you get a 10% discount on your next purchase of Birkenstocks”. I’ll pass. “Hey maaaan, I don’t eat anything that cast’s a shadow”. Yea, well I don’t eat anything that doesn’t scream. And this “0 grams of Trans Fat”, no shit….show me something WITH trans fat, I bet it tastes great.

Animal Rights (in Regards to Livestock)
Let’s establish that I am referring to the activists against the cruelty to animals whose destiny is to be my dinner. Abusing a domestic pet or animals in nature is cruel. However; livestock…..I mean really, it’s going to die. So this pig was kicked, do you really think it matters considering in a week it will be a delicious breakfast meat? In the Marines we said “Pain is Weakness Leaving the Body”, and I don’t want to think that I am eating some pig that was a pansy back in its life. I want some pork that’s been through some serious shit. Hell, torture the swine. Oh!, you know what be cool, water-board one with an awesome marinade. BAM! You’ve got the juiciest meat on the block, now how cool is that? These people who refuse to eat meat because of how animals are being treated….its just craziness. Or you get these ass clowns who argue pigs are pets. “Awww, it’s a cute little piggie”. So because it’s cute as an infant you won’t eat it? That’s pretty dumb. People like this I want to have over for dinner and serve BuSeKoNda. It’s like Turducken, but this is a bunny stuffed into a seal stuffed into a koala stuffed into a panda. It’s delish!

Twilight
Where to fucking start? Oh here’s a start, how about the fact that the intended target audience uses lunch boxes. This Stephanie Meyer chic pretty much thought “ya know what would be cool, if like…like, Dracula was in Romeo and Juliette…..but neither of them died….and there were werewolves, and diamonds”. All it took was some good peyote and it all came together. Bram Stoker has got to be livid right about now. I know it sounds ridiculous to say that a movie based on vampires is far fetched, but damn this Twilight series is so out there. I have an easier time accepting the possibility of Lord of the Rings, or the Berenstain Bears coming to life. Sure, a bunch of Jewish talking bears living in a tree house is a stretch, but this bull shit, hell no. Team Jacob….look, if you’re on team Jacob then you are a certifiable idiot. I have not read this teenie-bopper propaganda but I know how it ends (thank you wikipedia). Saying you’re on team Jacob is like rooting for the Phillies to win the 2009 World Series and hoping it’s a possibility ‘cause its still on your DVR and you have yet to watch it. Sorry to ruin it for you morons but Jacob, yea, he get’s no Bella booty. That’s right; the tree leaper gets the girl. And while we are talking about old Eddieboy, here is some tool described as “impossibly handsome, to the point of being almost godlike”….so….you picked that douche bag? Look, I’m not gonna lie but sometimes I’ll go a day or two without showering if my wife is gone, but I don’t pick that as my everyday look. And quit scowling at everything, you’re a vampire, not a bridge troll. Jasper, take a shit already. Bella, talk or exhale deeply, stop trying to do both at the same time. To the town folk of Forks, are you people fucking stupid? I don’t know, but if I had some neighbors that haven’t changed since, oh lets say the 1800’s….I dunno, I’d kinda be curious. Now I will admit that some of the cars in the movie are pretty sweet. But, Edward drives a fucking Volvo C30. Ooooh, what a badass. What message are you trying to send Edward; I’ll kick your ass after I drop the kids off at swim practice. Seriously man, you’re supposedly this “tough guy” vampire, and THAT is what you drive. Why not drive a Vespa? And the whole damn name of this series, every good series of movies usually falls under the same main title, each book/movie within it has its own sub-title. Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back – Star Wars: The Return of the Jedi; The Indiana Jones Triolgy; Harry Potter: and his fucked up broom, Harry Potter: still trying to get in Hermione’s pants. But you moron twilighters are freaking nuts.

“Hey, did you see the new Twilight movie is out now?”
“Yea, it’s New Moon, seen it 5 times”
“What’s New Moon?”
“It’s the second book, after Twilight”
“So…it’s the second Twilight”
“No, Twilight was the first book, New Moon is the second”
“Oh, so the first movie was called Twilight and this New Moon is independent of the first”
“No, the new movie picks up where the first left off”
“So….its Twilight: New Moon?”
“Like OMG, is it like, that hard to figure it out?”

Authors Disclaimer:
To the lovers of themed parties: Actually I love themed parties; what a fun way to get creative. Once I went to a “black and white” party…..unfortunately I misinterpreted the theme, but I still had fun going with as OJ and Nicole Brown with my wife.

To the Affliction shirt guys: Honestly, I’m just jealous. If I wore one I’d end up looking like a pound of raw ground beef stuffed in a condom.

To you hippies, tree huggers and animal lovers: No, it’s just a joke. Cruelty to animals is wrong regardless of their purpose. But c’mon, don’t lie to me. After the first bite who really care’s how it died? You’re just glad it did.

To my old man: Quit eating that Tofu shit. Seriously asshole, you’re making me look bad.

10 Things I have overheard men say….and really pissed me off.

2009-10-07T12:24:00.001-04:00

I was surprised at the selection of men’s shoes at DSW
Yea? Really? That’s great; did you get a nice belt to wear over your blouse? Look, as a man you should pick out shoes like you pick a card out of a magicians deck ….ahhhh……that one! They all look the same and they all serve the same purpose, 2 or 200 pairs should not leave an impression on you one way or the other. Men really only need three pairs of shoes: ass kicking shoes, sandals (NOT CLOGS!), and a pair your wife or girlfriend makes you put on.

Oh my God that’s so adorable
You see, “cute” is a word that really drives me up the wall. I don’t understand how people use “cute” to describe anything from a yellow birdhouse to a human, but I have gotten used to it. Adorable I just simply can’t stomach. Honestly though, what the hell could you possibly see that would merit using such word? Ok, maybe in the rare chance you see a unicorn proposing to a care-bear, then maybe, just maybe one could say that. However, what the f**k were you doing around unicorns?

Can I get a napkin to pat the grease off this pizza
Sure, hang on…..oh, they were out of napkins so I got you this gay side salad instead, now give me back that damn slice. Pat the grease off?....no, let is strain into a shot glass and then slam it down! Too much grease on pizza is like too many calories in beer…..I see no problem. You see, I know my arteries are clogging and my heart has to work that much harder; therefore, my heart is that much stronger….and my heart can kick your pussy-heart’s ass…..pussy.

I don’t know man; sometimes I just feel, like, empty inside
Empty….want some pizza? Empty is not a state of emotion, it’s a state of hunger. Men really only have three predominant emotions: Pissed, Chillin, and Horny. The extremity of these emotions is amplified by profanity. There is no need to have an array of emotional words, just like there is no need for an array of colors with fruit in the names.

I think its time we get some new chargers for the table
Let me finish laughing. I’m done. New chargers eh?….yea that would be nice. Maybe you could get some that glitter. Or, maybe you could reach down and pull the wrapper off your balls and use them….just a thought. But seriously, would someone explain to me why I need a flat plate under my plate? Is it really necessary to have a tablecloth, placemat and a f**king charger. I remember the first time I saw a charger….I just put my food on it. Everyone looked at me like I was a moron, I felt like the polish guy on the debate team.

Sex and the city wasn’t as bad as I expected
….just like butt-luvin.

I never thought I’d like my Mini Cooper so much
Yea….what does Jake think of it? I know I gripe about the Mini Cooper a lot, but I simply hate the thing. The only thing a Mini says about a man is “my penis fell off…..so I got this instead”. And don’t give me this “saving money on gas” shit. Think about it, lets say you save 500 a year on gas; however, you now spend 240 a year on hair care products, 180 bucks on your Bally’s “fitness club” membership, and at least a few hundred on f**king queer polo’s and shoes. Congratulations, you’re now further in debt, have a gay car, and your father is probably disgusted by you…..drive safe.

That is just silly
F**k that word too. What could really be so different that an acceptable word like “funny” just couldn’t cut it? A clown? Clowns aren’t silly, they are pedophiles in polka-dots….which isn’t silly, it’s down right scary.

If I were stuck on a deserted island and could only take one thing, I’d bring a radio.
Yea? And just what f**king station do you plan to listen to?.... “101.5 The Wave”? (yea that was pretty lame) Look jackass, if you were stranded on a damn deserted island, never-damn-mind the fact you couldn’t plug it in anywhere, but if, just IF, you could indeed pick up a radio station, then swim your dumbass to land. You know, people like you should be locked in a port-a-jon and launched off the face of the earth. Shit, if you’re thinking about bringing some magical radio, then just bring a damn genie with infinite wishes. Once your bored out of your mind just wish your ass back to Key West.

This last one is primarily due to the fact that everyone close to me seems to be reproducing at an alarming rate.

My son is 14 months old
No the F**K he’s not! He’s just over a year old. Damnit people, are you doing a f**king science experiment here? Beyond a year there is no need to break it down into months. There’s a year, year and a half, then the next damn year. Everything in-between is irrelevant…..I promise you I won’t carbon-date him. You don’t break your weight down into tenths do you?

Authors Disclaimer:

If you’re a man reading this thinking “I’ve never said any of that shit”, well then welcome to the XY chromo-zone brother. You’re a man kinda man. A dudely dude. There’s no queer smiley face keys on your keyboard. I bet you were scratching your balls as you read this. Hell, I’d even venture to guess you were just thinking about fixing or breaking something, or drinking, or boobs. If you agree with me then you’re no pussy, and I applaud your lack of doucheness. Keep being a bro, buddy.

If however, you read this and thought “gee, golly, this guy sounds like a grouch”….please direct your web browser to http://www.perezhiltonismyheroandiamsecretlygay.com

As always, my intentions are not to offend anyone, but if I did: quit being such a sensitive pansy.

What real men do

2009-08-10T11:41:00.001-04:00

Ok, so here lately I have been griping about how men today are more and more becoming a bunch of douche bags. I rant and rave about how stupid you look wearing pink, how frosted tips are the forewarning to getting drilled in the ass, so on and so forth. Finally I thought, “damn, I am one pessimistic grouchy f**k”. So today, I won’t complain about what I see wrong with men today, but rather I will focus on what real men do, and why. So, without further ado, here is what we do….

….we crap. Yup…I said it. We crap, and crap often. Generally we tend to do it early in the morning….about 5 minutes after we show up to work. And before the day is over, we probably will do it at least 2-3 more times. And we’re not just doing some sit down drive-by, we take our damn time. If reading Gone with the Wind wasn’t gay we could probably finish it in one day’s worth of weight loss. Now most women wonder “what the hell are you doing in there so long”? I’ll tell ya what, we’re thinking, reading, expanding our knowledge of cars, guns and other manly sorts. It’s our office, our sanctuary, our think tank. Where is the one place where no one will bother ya, where no one will intrude, that’s right, “the john”. Hell, sometimes we don’t even have to go, we just want to get away from talks about wall-paper, or how we drink too much, or how we’re always just sitting on the couch. Sometimes it’s just nice to be alone and half naked.

….we scratch things…. usually our balls. Simply put, if it itches, it needs scratching. Have you ever had an itch on your head or forearm? Well, what’s so different about nuts? They itch, it’s what they do. And when we’re done, we like to share the experience. “Hey honey, what does this smell like”? Yea….we’ll be on the couch for a few nights, but damn it was funny.

….we belch. What do you expect us to do with all that beer? It’s got to go somewhere. No, we probably didn’t do that so much when we were dating, but you’re stuck with me now….and you love for who I am, not what I am. And hell, some words just sound better when burped.

….we break, throw or punch things when angry. Yea, it might not be the smartest thing in the world, but damn it feels good. And the angrier we are the more expensive the victim is. For example; recently my garage door and I got in a heated argument. Apparently we didn’t see eye to eye on what it was supposed to do. To correct this I figured I would punch the opener on the wall. But I’m no idiot, if I punched it then it would never work….so I punched the wall. Coincidentally one of my many gifts is being a human stud finder. Yea, it hurt like hell….I now have to fix the wall, but I wasn’t upset at the garage door anymore. Garage door, zero; Marty, one! Booyah.

….we self medicate. Bad headache, 2 beers. Food poisoning, whiskey. Cut that won’t stop bleeding, paper towel and electrical tape. Cut with exposed bone, 2 paper towels and duct tape. Severed limb, 4-6 paper towels, duct tape, 3 beers…..it will most likely grow back. Depression, lots of beer. Alcoholism, one less beer then usual. Migraine, couple beers, break something, yell curse words, take a crap.

….we fix things. Sometimes. If it can be fixed, then it will be, but on occasion it just can’t be fixed. Which is a reward in and of itself, because then you get to break it even further. “Why is the lawnmower on fire?...well, it wouldn’t start”. “Yes honey, it had gas in it”….Ok, upon further inspection, “no it did not have gas in it….but that’s beside the point, it was old”. “I know…but it was last year’s model…..the new one has cup holders”. “Do you want me to cut the damn grass or not?.....ok then, I will need beer, therefore, I will need a cup holder”. “No, I cannot just hold it while I mow… that’s dangerous”.

….we make fun of our friends. If we associate with each other and we enjoy each others company….strictly in a heterosexual way, we make fun of each other. If we are not making fun of you, then we probably have assumed your queer. The last thing we need to do is offend you and have all your fairy friends picketing in my front lawn. If we are making fun of you and you’re offended, our mistake, we were confused. You owe us a 12 pack and let’s just go our own ways.

….we do our part to be environmentally friendly. For example, I wash my clothes once a month, ‘cause I don’t want to waste all that water. A wise man once told me if you throw your clothes at the wall and they don’t stick to it, they don’t need to be cleaned. Makes sense to me.

….we find any excuse we can to pee outside. It’s fun. An ant hill just became a potential target in the war against backyard terrorism. That tree over there looks thirsty. That dead area of grass over there, yep, I did that. I’m drunk…and the bathroom is just too damn far. And ladies, you’d do it too if you were properly equipped.

…we make fun of things we don’t understand. Like the French, or herbal tea. What’s wrong with sweet tea? Herbal tea makes you loose weight?....so does crapping. Smart Cars….I don’t get it….therefore; it must be gay. Hell, it barely broke 90 this July….the environment can’t be in too bad a shape. Stupid Smart Cars….”I bet your smart car can’t drive down a loggers trail without getting stuck”…not so smart now. Damn right, “my Jeep can scale a 90 degree brick wall”…..”You only fill up once a month….get the f**k outta here”. It’s still gay looking.

Authors Disclaimer:

Men, if you read this and agree, welcome to man country. Damn right you’re a man. I bet you eat saw dust and piss motor oil. Good to have you on our side. But; if you read this and think, oh this guy is gross…well, looks like we lost another one.

Ladies, I hope this explains why we are the way we are. It’s just in our blood. If you’re man does not do these things you may want to sit down and talk….don’t worry, I’m sure he’s a good listener….he might even have some pointers on this seasons newest looks. Congrats!, you just got yourself a shopping date!

Eyebrow modifications

2009-07-28T14:10:00.001-04:00

So I had a friend ask me “Marty….would it be ok if I were to trim / wax my eyebrows”. Initially I responded with a harsh answer, giving hardly any support in my response. I thought about it for a while and felt as if I should further explain this to him, and clear myself of being a rude prick….’cause that’s just not nice. So here is what I should have said. (All names have been altered to keep the anonymity).

Corgan Morbin, in response to your question, no, I do not think as a male you should trim, wax or alter your eyebrows in any manner. For one, the Lord gave you those eyebrows, who are you to change what He has created for you? If God wants you to look as if two ferns are fighting over the airspace above your eyes….well, that is His wish. You may argue “but I can’t pick up the ladies looking like this”. Well, this might be His way of keeping you disease free. Consider it a divine defense mechanism against STD’s.

But, for the more in depth reason why I feel you should not alter your eyebrows, let’s take a look at it from an evolutionary standpoint as to what might happen after you go through with this.

It starts with the eyebrows, and then you will be getting a pedicure. Then waxing your chest, fake tanning, wearing ridiculous clothes, so on and so forth. Then one day while shopping in Ulta (which is sooo not gay, because you’re just getting some after shower skin toning lotion. And there isn’t a damn thing gay about looking your very best) you run into Jake…..and before you know it BAM, your experimenting with bisexuality.

It’s at this point where we have just simply lost you for good. By “we”, I am referring to men who aren’t queer. You may argue, well my bisexualism isn’t queer….I do like girls too. But face it Corgan, you only hang out with girls ‘cause they always know when and where the good sales are.

To sum things up: if you are not opposed to sipping wine coolers, wearing shit that makes you look about as masculine as a puggle, getting in pork sword fights with Jake, waxing your arms, tucking your junk in-between your legs….ya know, just to see what it would look like…..then by all f**king means, wax your eyebrows. Otherwise, don’t do it man.

Authors Disclaimer:
I am not discriminating anyone’s sexuality, and apologize for any offenses made. However; if I did have to give my personal stand on bisexuality it would be:

Among males, I think it is morally wrong, but, who am I to judge anyone’s means of achieving happiness.

Among females, tape that shit!, and email a copy to martin.story@gmail.com

10 Things a man over 16 should never, ever do.

2009-07-10T12:29:00.001-04:00

Do not “pop” your collar. Unless you can prove that you are indeed Dracula’s metrosexual grandson, do not pop your collar. If you truly think that you look any better with your collar hugging your hair line you are wrong. If you are reading this and you collar is popped then let me tell you, pansy’s like you disgrace men. If you just need to feel that your neck is protected I’m sure there is someone who can easily arrange for you to be issued a neck brace.

Crocs, don’t wear them. If you are old enough to drive then you are old enough to not look like a jackass. What are you, a professional paddle boat captain? Wear tennis shoes or sandals, that foot condom with holes makes you look ridiculous….especially if you are clearly away from the water.

Do not go to a tanning bed. I don’t care if you are getting married in Hawaii and Casper the Friendly freaking Ghost calls you whitey…..don’t do it. You are probably the same tool that oils your skin after you shower.

Don’t put anything of any kind in your beer. It is perfect the way it is. Beer does not need fruit. The only exclusion is Mexican beer with a lime…..this is only to be done while eating Mexican food. If you are at a party munching on a cheese plate with a damn lime in your beer you really do look like a damn idiot. Beer does not require salt or fruit, or anything else. The only thing beer might possibly need is more beer.

Men should have only two hair styles: Just out of the shower, or just woke up. If you frost your tips I’d like to personally invite you to my back yard where I can proceed to club you like a baby seal. The only gelatinous thing a man should have in contact with his body is Jelly, on a peanut butter sandwich…..that is to be consumed before a heavy night of drinking, ball scratching and cat calling….while wearing a baseball cap because your absurd bed hair is easily fixed by a hat.

No piercing body parts. (This excludes circus freaks and those masochistic contortionists on Nat-Geo….yall are just plain weird). Your ears do not need extra holes in them, your tongue does not need a piercing either…..don’t tell me how your girlfriend likes it, cause we all know your girlfriend’s name is Jake. Don’t pierce your nipples, that is strange beyond the description of words.

Never refer to any color as a fruit. I don’t care if you’re trying to describe the color of the skin on the peach you are eating. Refer to it as a very light orange color. Or say if the colors orange and white were to get drunk and screw, this is the color it would make…we’ll call it “whorange”.

Do not use smiley faces in your email, texts, blogs, whatever the hell’s. Just type it out. Instead of a smiley face write “hell yea”. Instead of a frowning face write “man, f**k this”. Instead of a love face write “I wanna dry hump this shit out of you”.

Don’t order off the diet menu. If you are watching your weight, that’s just fine….if your Doctor tells you that you have to eat better, get a second opinion. But just don’t order off the diet menu. Order from the regular menu, and then eat half of it. Look at me, I don’t order off the diet menu….I can’t see my feet, but I’ve been told their ugly, so it works out perfectly. There is nothing that makes you look more like a wuss then sitting at Chili’s and saying “oh, I’ll have the turkey burger…..what’s that, oh, I just want to maintain my figure”.

Last, and quite possibly one of the most important; never wear pink clothing. This should just go without explanation, but apparently explanation is required. Lets start on the day you were born; you wore blue. As a new-born pink is reserved for women, so why the hell not keep it that way. And don’t give me this “it compliments my skin” shit. How about a bruise, that would look good too. Have you ever seen a military force with pink in their uniforms? No, you have not. Why not, because it’s just plain queer. Barbie wears pink, Ken does not. Why not, because Ken’s tappin’ that ass, and Barbie doesn’t want some tool driving in her Vette. The only thing a guy wearing pink says is “my girlfriend dresses me, and one day she might give me my nuts back, and then I will stop wearing this crap…..but for now I will wear this pink polo, with my collar popped, all the while sporting these foolish peach-plaid shorts and croc’s….oh what’s that, I need more hair Gel…..yea, you’re right, I just don’t know I am gay yet". You pussy.

If you are a female and are offended by any of this, I apologize. My intentions are to make you laugh, not be offensive.

If you are a male and offended by any of this, I sincerely ask that you go piss off and quit being such a sensitive, whiney little pussy. Ever heard of the expression "take it like a man"? Now go bleach your boyfriends hair.