Sunday, October 10, 2010

The Commonwealth Games: The Thank Fuck America Isn't Here Games

America has it all. They have the beautiful women, they have the money, they have the succulent steaks, they have the athletes and they sure as fuck have the roids to turn the shitty ones into suped-up, gold churning machines. They have everything and they know it. There is just one thing America does not know about, and I'm exceptionally sorry I have to break this news.

The rest of the world has an Olympics without you.

I know what you're thinking, "WHAT THE FUCK? You're playing SPORTS without US? Get my rifle son, the one I don't have a license for. Or perhaps the handgun I keep under my pillow for them ter-rists. Get your mothers' too. These fuckers aren't getting away with this."

Please, put your rifles away, and let me explain for a second. They're called the Commonwealth Games. A lot of the world outside of America is part of the Commonwealth, we pose no threat. In fact, some of us are even on your side!

You don't understand how shitty you make us all feel, America. You win EVERYTHING. Our best, most talented athletes are brought to depressing, humiliating, suicidal shame when they go up against your roid machines. We need these games, America. We need them for our own self worth.

Imagine this for a second. You're now Canadian.


Canada are nice, but Mr Nice Guy never wins, right, America? You want that oil, you fucking go get it, soldier. Canada got 3 gold medals in Beijing. The 2010 Commonwealth Games have been going for four days. They have 19 golds and 53 total. Canada are no Gary Coleman around these parts. Canada are fucking Sylvester Stallone with machine guns for hands and sandpaper for fingernails.

 The Official Commonwealth Games World Map

This may be bold of me, but I'm assuming everyone reading this has been to high school. If you haven't, I'll assume you're in the process of leaving (good luck with the oil!). Now, think about high school. Imagine, for one second, that every jerk at that school was removed. Imagine if everyone who beat you at something was removed from that school. Imagine that every single test you took was a breeze. Imagine that everyone who was remotely world class at anything was removed.


Welcome to the greatest show on earth. The show where everyone fucking SUCKS at everything, no one watches, and we become the greatest fucking athletes this side of California.

It's widely known that New Zealand turns up to the Olympics for the after party. The snacks are delicious and way too good to pass up, no one would dispute that fact. Medal tally? They award medals here?

The Commonwealth Games is where we really fucking turn it on. We fucking bring the pain to powerhouse nations such as the Cayman Islands and the Isle of Man. We are unstoppable, medal thirsty beasts and bathe in our medal tally as if God himself created our athletes and brought them to this earth to beat Praveen, the malnourished, 5' 1" Indian girl at the shot put.

 A quick snapshot of the junior Olympics to put things in perspective.

Just to give you an idea of how nice these games are, Usain Bolt, the fastest man on the fucking PLANET, doesn't turn up to the Commonwealth Games. He's over the speed limit. If you're good at something, you're not allowed here. Everyone deserves a shot at winning something. If there was a special Olympics for people who weren't... special... then these are them. If there was a Paralympics for people who weren't fucking paralyzed, these are them. These games bring the rest of the world together in a way that we don't have to worry about being subpar. We don't have to worry about America taking our lunch money, shoving our face down a toilet and fucking our sister and mother at the same time.

We love you America, and we get it. You're good at stuff. Stuff that actually matters, such as running really fast and jumping really high. But the rest of the world needs these games. They make us feel complete. They make us feel like we are gods among men when really the whole thing is an excuse to celebrate our inferiority. We like medals too, OK?!

Thank you for putting the rifle down.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

The new sins

Many of you may not know this, but I am God's best friend. When he was going through his hip hop phase, we collaborated on a few tracks. We reached #36 on the Cuban airplay charts with the single My Son's one Cool Mofo in the Summer of '92, and we stayed in touch ever since. While our relationship is very much a very very long distance one, we chat regularly.

He recently opened up and told me about a few mistakes he made. He broke down in a pool of tears. I started to tell him there was always going to be someone looking down on him blah blah and all that shit but I remembered he's God. He asked me to fix one of the biggest mistakes he made, which are known as the seven sins. Apparently he was filling out an online dating form and listed them as his best traits, and his secretary filed them in the wrong place or something. He was pretty embarrassed about the whole thing, and saw me as the perfect person (I am) to right those wrongs. In a Stripped Paint Exclusive, I present you the new Cardinal Sins.


If you're not masturbating, I'm assuming you have some horrible birth defect, such as no arms. There is absolutely no downside to jerking or stroking (ladies.....). You're killing about 9 different species of flightless birds with 1 gigantic semen stone by masturbating. You gain pleasure, stamina, strength, and, depending on your state of life, an overall sense of loser-ness. And, for the extreme amongst us, you may feel suicidal after masturbating to BME for the 20th time. You get the full spectrum of life and emotions just from a swift hand motion. If you're not doing this, prepare to rot in hell for eternity.


Granted, not all of this planet are not as dumb as a sack of Mexicans (fun fact: Total IQ = 37), but the ones that are truly dumb fall for dumb ass shit all the fucking time. If a guy claims he can heal you by hitting you in the face, IT'S NOT FUCKING TRUE.

While Peter Popoff is a jerk for the most part, you have to say bravo for tapping into the dumbass market and making bank for screaming and hitting people. Dumbass Exploitation Hall of Fame anyone? I understand he's bankrupt now, but the inside word is he just did the whole thing just to prove a point.

If a girl starts to walk like a lunatic and barely talks better than Terry Schiavo after a regular flu shot, but shows no emotion whatsoever, and is on multiple news networks (AKA attention whoring, publicity), do you REALLY THINK IT'S REAL? Stop falling for this bullshit you idiots. Watch the first one, decide if you're a dumbass or not, then watch the second. The second shouldn't even be news considering how fucking bullshit, batshit, dogshit, shitshitshit, this whole event is. Fuck you, I'm pissed now.


Not only are you both fucking dumbasses, you're now sinners as well.

Glorious human beings.


Nose whistlers are those people that whistle through their nose when they're supposedly breathing. I don't believe they're actually breathing, because breathing doesn't sound like a fucking turbo jet landing on the tarmac. Time stands still when you're in the presence of a nose whistler. You can't concentrate on anything but the blood curdling scream coming from their nose, it's grotesque. A good way to get rich would be to walk into a bank with a posse of 6 or 7 nose whistlers, and take all the money you can find. No one would notice the robbery for all the nose whistling. The devastation nose whistling could potentially cause leaves me with the one option left, converting it to sin status.


Every single one of these is now a sin. These are also tapping into the dumbass market. When I was a young lad, the 1am television comprised purely of minimum wage girls writhing around on a stage made out of styrofoam, plastered with graphics made in Word 97, trying to sell phone sex. To a 13 year old boy, this is hard core porn. We need to go back to those glory days. The dumbass market has made it possible for infomercials to infiltrate this time slot with ease. Dumbasses buy anything that manages to occupy a 30 minute time slot. Guess who listens to people talking about a blender for 30 minutes? Dumbasses. Let me give you a rundown on how an infomercial works to hook a dumbass in.

1. Ask questions that can only be answered with yes.

"Do you want clean carpets?"
"Do you want your kids to get a good eduction?"
"Do you find it essential to eat food?"
"Does every blender seem the same to you?" (hint: they are)

2. Action shot of item in middle-upper class home with small audience ready to participate in the eating of the food.

Because we all love to sit and watch people fucking blend. During this time, the host needs to show an enormous amount of emotion when he finds out the blender can do more than one thing.

3. Display a ridiculously confusing phone number and talk about easy payments.

After you've decided that you want this amazing blender, they give you the number to call to bring one into your life. "Just call 1-800 BLENDER 4 U, that's 1-800 24854." Wait, what? There's more letters in the letter version than the number version? How does that work?

Once you figure out that crossword, you're ready to make your 4 easy payments. They obviously wouldn't trouble you with some hard payments. Because I really hate when I have to jump through hoops to pay for cutlery. Very annoying.

4. Repeat. For the entire night until the Christians invade.

They too use this structure, once again to hook in dumbasses.


If this was an attractive smell, Lynx would have it in a can by now. If you smell like an old person, you're sinning. You're sinning like no one has ever sinned before. Incidentally, not telling someone they smell like an old person is just as sin worthy. We can make this world a better place by getting rid of that horrid death ridden smell.


Self explanatory. Consider killing yourself.

Apologies for the inconvenience in the changing of the sins, but I think all the new ones cover all bases necessary for a healthy living environment physically and mentally. No need to thank me, the knowledge that I'm making the world a better place is enough reward for me.

Shit, guess I need a 7th sin. Hmmm, lame blogs. That will do. No more lame blogs.

God damn it :(

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Fine dining is not fine with me

Fine dining is the hipster of the food world. You know those artsy kids who wear tight black jeans and some ironic t-shirt with a faded scarf and a $100 haircut that looks exactly the same as a free one? Those guys that begin a music conversation with "you probably haven't heard of this band..." or "I knew about them before they sold out. They are so lame now." It is EXACTLY the same with bullshit fine dining meals.

I can see it's food, and it's on a plate. I can see it's meant to be eaten. The thing is, it's trying so fucking hard to look different that I just want to punch it right in the Cajun cashew blended drizzled nuts. When I want a meal I want a fucking MEAL. Not something the size of my thumbnail and the price of Michael Jackson's glove.

Don't get me wrong, some of these meals look pretty nice. Do they look tasty? No. Do they look like they could be frozen solid and sold as key chains in the restaurant gift shop? Yes. This review gives you the cold hard truth on these hipster junkie meals.

Nice, a stick, a rock, some grass and some shaving foam, this meal looks incredible. Totally worth the 50 bucks. I sincerely hope that this is being served to an African orphan who has been living off dirt for 3 months, because really, dirt is the only thing that I think is worse than that handful of things you put on that plate.

You know you're fine dining when the fish is the same size as the fucking fork. This reminds me of writing essays in high school, where you always put in extra words and made the font bigger just to make it look like you had put more effort in. In this case, the extra words are the broccoli and whatever the fuck that yellow thing is. Only 40 bucks? What a steal!

"Hey, I know, lets blast the fucking plate with dressing so people don't realize that we only put 3 things the size of cherries on their plate!"
"Hey, they might notice. Put a couple of leaves on top to be sure."
I don't even think a cat would be satisfied with the amount of food on this plate.

Really? Honestly? Man, you better get me a massive glass of water to wash this bad boy down. This is garbage and technically fraud. I ordered 'food' not 'something wrapped in a leaf with grass scattered around it'.

This has to be a mistake. Surely this is a drink that has been accidentally served on a plate. Surely. I really doubt if that could even fill up a glass. The golden rule of fine dining: no matter what the size of the meal, make sure the plate is FUCKING ASTRONOMICALLY, ALMOST COMICALLY, HUGE.

The hell? Covering half my plate with icing sugar doesn't make that tart bigger you asshole. The sad thing is, this is the entire dessert if you're fine dining. The good thing is this probably only sets you back 45 bucks. Even if you licked all of that icing sugar off, I'm pretty sure the entire value of that meal (including the plate) is about 9 dollars. By the way, nice leaf on top. Very necessary.

What the fuck? Did you just choose the 3 closest things to you and put a skewer through them? This is awful and not worthy of traveling through my digestive tract.

People, if you haven't already, I hope you realize that fine dining is bullshit. The food to plate ratio is always about 1:50000, you go broke just buying it, and the ingredients are seemingly things found in a guy named Phil's backyard. From now on, make sure you understand that anything that resembles the above is shit, and stay away from it. Fine dining is NOT those things, fine dining is this:


Sunday, August 29, 2010

Alpha male + douche = alpha douche

Probably the biggest disorder that has been sweeping our planet recently (and perhaps others) is alpha male-ism. The alpha male is quite a phenomenon, capable of ruining 13 people's nights in the space of approximately 6 minutes. Some reports have indicated a much higher number than this when a bitch (female) is involved. When you cross an alpha male with douche-type behaviour, you have an alpha douche on your hands. Be aware there are varying degrees of an alpha douche - most are fairly docile and pose no threat. The hierarchy of the alpha male is reasonably complex though, and I will try to cover the most common cases. Be advised: graphic douchery in the following article.

Grade 1 Alpha douche:

This alpha douche is the least aggressive of all, but is probably the most annoying. This is the guy who brings a fucking guitar to a party to "get chicks". This is the guy that only knows 2 chords on the guitar. If this guy is involved with any activity, you can bet your ass he is going to tell you about his history with it. For example, if a game of basketball starts after he's just played "Horse With No Name" for the 14th time that night, you are going to hear his ample past in basketball. The chances that none of it are true are too high for any measuring system to actually measure. Scientists estimate 100%.

No matter what achievements any person has in his vicinity, they mean nothing to this alpha douche, because he has far more accomplishments than any peasant below him. You won't be seeing them anytime soon though, since they're all in his head.

Grade 2 Alpha douche:

This douche you will see walking down the street everyday, with an undeserved look of arrogance and accomplishment. If he trips over something, he'll yell at someone nearby and claim it was their fault. If he gets denied by a girl, he'll shout "WHORE" to detract from his failings. This douche would rather take a kick to the gonads rather than have his male pride ruined. This alpha douche needs to make sure at ALL TIMES that no matter what happens, nothing is EVER his fault, for he is flawless. (He's not.) While these things may seem severe, he usually will avoid confrontation because if he comes home to mom with a scratch he won't be getting dinner. Knowledge that this guy will die forever lonely and unloved is punishment enough.

Grade 3 Alpha douche:

When you get to this stage, it's really a slippery slope to grade 4. Only saving grace is they HAVE to be acting. There's no way people like this are real.

Grade 4 Alpha douche:

This alpha douche is VERY aggressive and should not be approached. He works out every day (his arms and chest only) and has roughly 3 visible veins in his neck. He can be found in bars with a girl hanging off his overdeveloped arm (out of fear for her own personal safety after denying him 3 times previously), being loud and making sure everyone knows that he is on the premises. It's kind of like a group shower (this sounds gay...) where there's one guy with a 2 foot long schlong. Everyone can see you're bigger, everyone can see you're more manly, but there's no way in hell I'd want to live like that. Circulation issues. If this alpha male has to go to bathroom, it's likely he's injecting some roids.

Naturally, none of these types can be associated as a leader (in a normal person's mind). So technically, they aren't alpha males. Douche males, yes. True alpha males perhaps not. However, since they do command attention they all deserve a place on the alpha douche hierarchy. Forget about the ozone layer and global warming, let's address the global douche-ing. We need to purify this planet before they start bringing roids and guitars to our children's schools. We need to purify for the safety of our women and the sanity of our citizens. If you imagine this message from the greatest alpha male douche, it will hit home what needs to be done.

This is also what grade 5 looks like.

Friday, August 13, 2010

The Girl to Season theory

Girls are very hard to read. They PMS all over the place and a platter of meats between their legs. I've developed a simple chart to help you understand the good from the bad. The different varieties of girls are also very related to the seasons that we endure for all our lives. Well, some we endure, others we tug our appendages over. Nightly. This list covers the good the bad and the ugly of women everywhere. Hopefully this gives you an insight into the female race and which tier they fall into.

 Sandra Bullock, Marisa Miller, Charlize Theron, Kim Kardashian, Kate Beckinsale
  • Liked by the majority of people, and a favourite among horny (all) men because of the small clothing involved
  • Manages to get you sweaty at night
  • Gives females an excuse to be catty and angry
  • Sometimes gives you a headache
  • Super hot
Alicia Silverstone in Clueless, Kate Winslet, Natalie Portman (downgraded due to short hair dumbassery), Jennifer Aniston, Megan Fox (downgraded for being a dumbass), Taylor Swift, Hayley Williams
  • A downgrade from summer, but still very beautiful
  • Liked by a majority of old people and and artsy types who can see it for it's beauty
  • Enjoyable, but if you had the choice, you'd rather fuck have Summer
  • Comfortably warm, but not super hot
Mel C, fat Kelly Clarkson, strung out Nicole Richie, Amber Rose, Elizabeth Hasselbeck (downgraded multiple times for being multiple dumbass levels), Sarah Jessica Parker
  • Not really liked by a lot of people
  • Pisses you off whenever it starts to come near 
  • Pretty fucking ugly and is capable of killing leaves just by looking at them
  • Isn't conducive to happy feelings
  • Emo 11 year olds can find beauty in it by writing poems about it
  • Only saving grace is that there is worse to come
Rosie O'Donnell, Lindsay Lohan, Lisa Lampanelli, Courtney Love after Hole, Tori Spelling
  • Hated by virtually everyone
  • You have to save all your wood because it sure as fuck won't be needed if it was Summer
  • Wouldn't mind if it no longer existed
  • Makes you want to kill yourself
  • Need a shower after looking at it
  • Disgusted that people like this actually exist
  • Massive urge to punch them all in the face
Got carried away, but the point still stands. Keep working hard girls and I'll upgrade you to the bit-more-likable Autumn!

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Things humans can learn from inanimate objects

I think the whole human population would admit the whole human population blows. There is too much hate in this world. Wars in Israel and Iraq, gang crimes, homophobia and the Bieber army regime that consumes innocent 14 year old girl's souls for the purpose of world domination daily. The human race stops at nothing to bring sadness and hatred upon one another. I had a moment with my best friend, God, the other night to ask him why the world is such a volatile place. He said, "Sam, you must realize that humans are fucking scrotum scratching vermin."

And so it was.

We claim to be the smartest things on the planet (we're vain like that), but we are not smart enough to see that things that can't actually think for themselves are the smartest things on the planet.

When a banana dies away, it offers much to the earth. The skin can be used in the ground as a tremendous source of vitamins and nutrients, which in turn helps the trees and plants grow into beautiful majestic flora and fauna. The fruit itself will just dissolve into the ground peacefully. When a human dies however, there is MASSIVE STINK, the guts fall out of the body, we involuntarily piss all over the place, and take fucking forever to dissolve into nothingness. We don't even help the environment at all. Eyeballs do not make for a good fertilizer. Must we keep hurting our planet's feelings? A banana has the most retarded name ever, but does he/she hold any grudges and piss all over the place? No.

Spot the contributing member to society.

The human race can be painfully dull. While it is true that we do have some very funny people, the majority of them are so terrible that it in most cases I am inspired to start a protest march to make bad comedy illegal. Nothing less than the death penalty would be imposed. Bringing your harrowing comedy upon the rest of us is quite frankly insulting, and you should be ashamed. Just when you think comedy can't get ANY unfunnier, Charlie Sheen gets a new show.

Kill me now.

A chair that breaks when someone sits on it is funny. A hat that blows away in the wind and can't be caught is funny. A balloon that pops in someone's face is hilarious, and a potential lawsuit with a big payday. 2 birds, 1 hilarious stone. None of these need punchlines and they're always funny. No matter how hard Charlie Sheen tries, he will never, EVER be as funny as a chair.

One of these swears a lot, makes stupid faces and dumb noises, and tells long winded stories with no punch line. The other one is funny.

Humans pretty much suck. Some of us hate each other purely because of the colour of our skin. Probably the most known of these racist groups are the KKK. They promote things such as white supremacy, nationalism, and commit terrorist acts. Here is a fact some may not be aware of though. Since 1865, when the KKK was formed, not one dehumidifier has been a member of the Klan. NOT ONE. Never has a fireplace applied to be a member. A handrail was once in the group but this was later found to be an undercover officer. Inanimate objects don't judge on colour, creed, or race. They don't get involved in this racism tomfoolery, they are above it. They are role models we all need to look up to.

I'm not very fashionable because I'm not gay. I'm comfortable admitting that to the world. There are, however, plenty of humans who try very, very hard (too hard) to look good. If you aren't gay or a woman, you probably look like crap. It's inevitable. It's not too late for these people to admit that something that has no ability to think for themselves will always look better than they do. For example: which of these do you think looks ridiculous?

 Or this:
 Or this:

People try way too hard with how they look. Inanimate objects either look good or they don't, and move on with their bad ass life at 120 MPH.

As humans we all make mistakes. WHICH FUCKING BLOWS. Inanimate objects don't make mistakes. Let's take this lesson and move forward. The whole world would be a much better place if we stopped fucking it up. Next time you see a pin tack in a drawing board, observe how they live in harmony. We have much to learn.

While doing research for this article, I discovered that businessmen are always photographed with a phone.

Silly things girls are attracted to

Since girls heads are filled with such important things like nail polish, cellulite and 90210, I will cut them a bit of slack on their perceived perfection in men, and what is attractive to them. What girls see as attractive are however flawed. There is no user functionality to the perfect man. Let me explain why.

The obvious attraction to girls is the body. Easy on the eye and tender to the touch, a good body can be used to promote anything, from a food grill to rape. A well constructed body can run rings around a fat one with more endurance, speed and power. It is however missing one massively vital attribute. Floatation. Muscle is three times heavier than fat. If you are trapped on an island in the middle of nowhere with a built man, you are on a one way track to the bottom of the ocean to meet Leo DiCaprio on the ocean floor (also muscular, see a pattern here ladies?) Stuck with a fat sweaty guy? Shunt him into the water as you would a beached whale, hop on and paddle your happy ass back home.

Next time you see Matthew McConaughey shirtless, think of the consequences this situation have on the both of you. It's a tragedy, all because you wanted some muscle. Shame on you. Also, if you encounter pirates on your fat guy voyage, fatness comes once more into play. How many bullets do you think a quarter of an inch can take? Answer: ONE. One shot and you're both gone. Now, think about how many bullets a thick 6 inch mane of fat can take. Answer: FUCKING HEAPS. Not only can he take a bullet for you, he can take a fucking ASSAULT of them.

If a man with a French accent opens his mouth, all guys within a 2 mile radius come running with a shotgun to put the poor man out of his misery. All girls come running to fuck him. What the guys will do to him depends on what type of accent he has. The further west, the further you get tortured (Geography joke for you). Girls however want to bone anything that rolls their R's or draws their A's. Once again there is a flaw in this attraction. Guys with accents are usually either terrorists or rapists. Osama Bin Laden: Terrorist - Check. Accent - Check. I can understand the rape fetish but the terrorist fetish is where I draw the line. If you have a terrorist fetish either call a terrorist hot line or turn yourself into police for the sake of society. Accents are just tools used by tools to tool you in the vagina. Stop being sucked into it.

You may have heard that women are attracted to a driven man, a man willing to work hard. These are fabricated lies, a visage created by women everywhere to disguise something much simpler. A hard working man invariably has a lot of money, enough to keep a woman quiet.


Repeating myself for emphasis. I see through your deceit, women. You haven't fooled me yet you pack of miscreants. If I tell a lady I have 6 figures in my bank account, I'm in hot demand. If I tell them that one of those figures is a minus sign, guess how attractive I am to women now. Hint: Zero. ZERO ATTRACTIVE.

Women are attracted to a man who expresses his feelings. This man probably has a bigger woman's magazine collection than you do. Consider your actions before approaching him.

Women are attracted to a well dressed man. This man is 100% undeniably GAY.

I forget where I am going with this article. I can't even remember why I was defending battleship men. The point is, if there are any girls out there willing to give a cynical, sarcastic, hypocritical guy a shot please (please) call me. I have an accent and I'm not a terrorist. We can try rolling my D into your V.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Be careful when watching Tennis

Tennis has an aura of glitz and glamour about it, but truthfully, there is a much dirtier underbelly to the sport. Most sports we can watch without guilt (excluding beach volleyball - does anyone actually know the rules to this sport? Who cares!), but tennis brings the dirty, horny beast out of me. It might be the skimpy clothing, it might be the toned legs, it might be the sun kissed skin on all of the players, it might even be that the women play also. What I do know is that those women all grunt like the force of an almighty God has struck them down.

If you're watching alone, the viewing experience goes without a hitch, you can enjoy your groaning in peace. HOWEVER. If there is someone in a nearby room, it becomes KIND OF FUCKING AWKWARD. Because the actual commentary is so quiet in comparison to the grunting, people nearby can't actually hear it. All people are hearing is "UNGH AHH UNGGHHH COME ON". All of those things are pretty similar to what you'd hear in a DVD of Teen Super Suckers and Fuckers 9.

That's where the guilt kicks in. You know you're doing nothing wrong, you're just watching an innocent game of moaning, groaning, sensual tennis. But the other person thinks you are just a lustful, perverted porn king. While some of us are lustful, perverted porn kings in our spare time, guilt should not be an emotion you experience while you watch young, slender, sweaty girls running around hitting balls. In and out. In and out. Even if the audio from the XXX Channel is no different to the audio on the Tennis Channel, I just want to watch my sweaty girls in peace. If I wanted to watch porn I would watch a Miley Cyrus concert.

Don't get me wrong, all the tennis girls are super hot, and the groaning and moaning certainly sparks my "imagination". The problem is the paranoia they create in your mind when your mum is doing the ironing in the room 2 doors down. If I were a father, I'd be proud that my son was watching porn. When walking in the room to discover it was actually tennis, I'd probably be a little disappointed. To be quite honest, the tennis girls make the exact same retarded faces that we make during sex, it's virtually a stepping stone to porn. Like weed is a gateway drug to other more dangerous ones, tennis is a gateway porn to FULL BLOWN HARDCORE PORN. In terms of ranking it goes (and speaking from 13 year old boy horniness experience): Instructional massage video - Sex Ed anatomical diagram - Bra fitting demonstration - Bikini contest - Tennis - PORN.

While the moaning and groaning does have it's benefits, it really needs to go. One of these days I'll get kicked out of my house because the neighbours won't stop complaining about all the porn being played at my house, and there's no way they'd let me watch the tennis either. The potential for mistaking tennis groans for sex groans is so large I don't even think Ron Jeremy himself can tell the difference. For now, I have to stick to watching Animal Planet and avoiding the Tennis Channel. The one thing the animal kingdom has over humans: none of them make the same retarded sounds or faces during sex that we do.

Porn Star:
Tennis Star:

Sunday, July 25, 2010

The one perk to growing old

This byproduct of growing old is the one thing men can look forward to.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

God is a jerk.

I love a good prank. The look of anguish on an unlucky Samaritan when they find their bike has been padlocked to a nearby tree, the rage flowing through a man's veins when he feels a thud of a water bucket come crashing down on his head, or maybe the simple humiliation of the age old down trou are all sights that are just so priceless not even Bill Gates could buy you out.

There is, however, an undisputed king of pranksterism, and that is whoever was clever enough to write a bunch of made up stories and get people to believe they were real! Real enough to devote your ENTIRE LIFE to them! Real enough to get you so angry you just decide to point to a place on a map, pick up your army and just decide its time for a good old fashion gun-toting, tank racing, ter-rist slapping war. Religion will forever be the greatest prank made on man kind. A talking snake? Genius! Making a woman out of a man's rib? Brilliant!

Although this author is undoubtedly the greatest prankster this universe has ever produced, it did get me thinking. If a KFC Double Down is actually real (it's basically a heart attack disguised as a bomb disguised as a sandwich disguised as chicken), what else is there really to believe in? Maybe the stories in this book are real, maybe God is real. It got me thinking again (twice in a row, new high score), and I had a moment of unequivocal enlightenment. "This... God guy. He's an asshole. Actually... he's the biggest asshole of all time! This guy... This guy, he's a prankster... the ORIGINAL prankster......" My knees trembled and buckled at what was going through my mind. Then I stopped thinking about Kim Kardashian and went back to my God comprehension.
Quit it Kim, I'm having a biblical moment.

God, potentially the creator of this entire world, pulled a lot of crazy shit when he was doing his handiwork. "Hmmm. If they can't stop eating my delicious food I've meticulously created, I'll just let them get really big. They won't grow upwards, they will just grow sideways! And if they eat WAY too much, their heart won't work anymore. Fuck I'm great." He is also fine with meteors smashing into the planet whenever they want to. Nice job asshole. Meanwhile, God is up there on his cloud in the sky drinking brandy out of a hooker's vajongle, looking down at us peasants and laughing his omnipotent ass off at his lame ass pranks he's pulling. "BAHAHAHA! That guy was outside enjoying my sun for too long! Look how red his arms got! Hahahahaha. I am soooo almighty."

God damn it, fuck you, God. Damn it.

I now understand those "Have you found God?" posters. Everyone wants to find this asshole for all these dumb ass pranks he is pulling. We've had enough of this shit. I don't know why he isn't on the FBI's most wanted list. This guy is a serial nuisance.

Is someone able to tell me exactly why he makes us cramp? I've busted my ass running and chasing a ball for a few hours, and you decide to snipe my calf muscles from your brothel in the sky. Was that really necessary? How about when I'm just laying in my bed and you decide to burn my fucking calves off for no reason at all. Talk about short man syndrome. I can just imagine him in the sky with a massive beaming smirk in his fat mouth. The amount of pranks he pulls daily is frankly upsetting and I definitely want to file a complaint to the proper authorities. In the space of 5 minutes I came up with a list of things that are totally uncalled for.

Dropping things - For fuck's sake God, you're the "creator" and you can't make a pair of hands that can hold on to a glass of water? Get a new job.

Dandruff - ? Give me one good reason for why you created this.

Getting lost - Your design for us was terrible. You can be thankful someone invented GPS.

The flu - A disease that makes you sweat, heat up, then cool down, then heat up, throw up, become weak, have headaches and make you want to die, but doesn't actually kill you. Ever wonder why you never got employee of the month? Because you pull shit like this.

Paper cuts - Really? You made us bleed from paper? Enjoy it while it lasts because I'm coming to sue your ass.

Things that taste bad - Your world blows and I want a refund.

PMS - I hope you're happy that you gave women everywhere an excuse to act like a total bitch every month. (Good job on playing favourites)

If this guy is real, I can't be friends with him if he keeps pulling this crap all the fucking time. Prank after prank after prank and he has people eating out of the palm of his hand somehow. The mayhem needs to end. This is an open message to God: stop being an asshole or I'm coming for you. Creating Lady Gaga was the final straw.

Just another stupid prank.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Girls and guitars

 (click for big)

Admit it ladies, a man with a guitar makes you moist in the loins.

For example:
 Undesirable, unattractive, creepy, detestable, unappealing.


Equals SEX GOD.

This is exactly the reason I took up guitar.

Monday, July 12, 2010

Going to the movies can be painful

A lot of things in life can be ruined easily - concerts, weddings, parties, fresh water crocodile births, the list seemingly never ends. Overall though, the one event that can be ruined at any given moment, by any given member of society is the cinema. Going to the movies is an experience where any slight hindrance to your viewing pleasure is magnified 5 million times.

A kick in the seat feels like a bus slamming into you, a crunching food wrapper sounds like Apollo 13 taking off, someone whispering sounds like Fran Drescher in full scream mode. The worst thing is: ALL OF THESE THINGS START HAPPENING WHEN THE MOVIE STARTS. The movie beginning, believe it or not, is not the green light to start to start your Hitler Youth revolution(s). If you are an asshole in a cinema (and you know who you are), you are actively supporting the Nazi regime. And terrorists. And internet censorship. How could you be so cruel?

I can accept prices of movie tickets going up. That doesn't bother me. I'm poor anyway so you may as well just strip me of everything I have right now and put me out of my misery. But to kick a man when he's down by kicking a man when he's sitting down is too far. Parents, if your kid likes to pretend his legs are 2 pistons, kicking me at 50 kicks per second, please do the decent thing. Please put a leash on him and yank it when he gets out of line. I've seen this method work on dogs. How many dogs do you see kicking at a cinema? Thought so. Dogs are better humans than humans are, and they aren't even humans. Do the scientific math.

The Chinese are known for their torture methods. Burning, electric shock, water and ropes are all used in various ways to torture the living shit out of someone. What a lot of people don't know is that the worst of them is actually prevalent in Western society: douchebags who eat their food slowly but still somehow manage to blow the roof off the cinema with noise. You know who I'm talking about. They come in 2 different styles, but they are essentially the same. The first one is the guy who tries so hard (although quite frankly not hard enough) to keep his shit quiet by moving the food wrapper very slow, but the result is the exact opposite and the CRINKLE CRINKLE CRANKLE echoes through the whole cinema. This guy is an asshole. The other guy is the guy who thinks he is in some world record race to eat his ice cream. This douchebag stops for NO ONE OR NOTHING. This guy is a food wrecking ball goliath. This guy is fucking proud of how fast he's eating and god damn it he's going to let you know about it. This guy is an asshole.

Ultimately these things combined with other movie nuisances such as: the guy who puts his foot on top of your foot without realising it, the guy who eats his ice (What the hell? What's the point in this? Go back to Antarctica, Willy), the guy who takes up all the arm rest space, the kids in the back who talk about Grey's Anatomy the whole time, or the fact that the movie you're watching is TOTAL FUCKING SHIT (thank you, Meet the Spartans) means that you WILL flip out at the next thing to slightly set you off. If there's an epileptic in the cinema, you can probably accept 1 or 2 rounds of the jitters from him or her. But if they're epileptic'ing throughout the whole movie, that's where you draw the line. It takes a very strong man to respect everyone and hold in his rage at this point.

When I have kids, I'll probably give them a trial run at a movie where there will be very few people in attendance (say something with Dane Cook, or ANOTHER Baby Geniuses sequel). If they don't pass their trial of not being a fucking annoying seat kicking twat, I'll be locking them up in a parakeet cage and gagging their mouths with old complaint letters for future movie experiences. I'm a compassionate person after all. There's no way I'm going to let someone else go through the pain I have been through. It's too traumatic. People, let's take the sin out of the Cinema.

 Look how tranquil this is. I have a dream.

Monday, July 5, 2010

This song is dumb

Ok, I posted a catchy song the other day. The song is pretty dumb, it only has like 7 words but has about 1000x the ass. This one I'm about to dissect is just so blatantly stupid with about 6 million words, and no ass. It has a bald guy, that's pretty close to an ass I guess. But it's not an ass. The song is Hey Soul Sister by Train. You've undoubtedly heard this song, it's stupidly catchy but also stupidly stupid. Look at these lyrics (my observations in blue):

Hey, hey, hey
Your lipstick stains on the front lobe of my left side brains
gross, are you the recipient of a lobotomy? and who the hell puts their lips on a brain?
I knew I wouldn't forget you, and so I went and let you blow my mind
right, because when I know I won't forget someone, I let them operate inside my skull
Your sweet moon beam, the smell of you in every single dream I dream 
yeah moonbeams are nice I guess, but there's no way she smells nice if she's kissing your brains
I knew when we collided, you're the one I have decided who's one of my kind
one of your kind? which planet exactly do you come from?

Hey soul sister, ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo, the way you move ain't fair, you know! 
woah woah woah, this girl is your sister? And maybe she moves faster than you because you're fat? Did you ever think of that? See I can rhyme random words too
Hey soul sister, I don't want to miss a single thing you do...tonight
why tonight specifically? did you read her diary? are you stalking her? you're stalking her aren't you?
Hey, hey,hey

Just in time, I'm so glad you have a one-track mind like me
I kind of hope you're the only 2 in this world with that mind, because you're messed up
You gave my life direction, a game show love connection we can't deny
if the game show is The Bachelor, you're out of luck. The person who wins that usually sues the dude. And the chicks get paid to be there
I'm so obsessed, my heart is bound to beat right out my untrimmed chest
first your brain now your heart?! When are your 9 lives going to run out?
I believe in you, like a virgin, you're Madonna, and I'm always gonna wanna blow your mind
actually, Madonna sleeps with anything that has money and moves

Hey soul sister, ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo, the way you move ain't fair, you know!
stop chasing her fatty and maybe she'll stop moving
Hey soul sister, I don't want to miss a single thing you do...tonight 

The way you can cut a rug, watching you's the only drug I need
I've heard of the pie fetish and the balloon fetish, but cutting a rug?! Come on man
You're so gangsta, I'm so thug, you're the only one I'm dreaming of
thugs don't dream of girls, thugs slap a bitch
You see, I can be myself now finally, in fact there's nothing I can't be
I know one thing you can't be: a normal person
I want the world to see you be with me
not happening

Hey soul sister, ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo, the way you move ain't fair, you know!
it's illegal to stalk
Hey soul sister, I don't want to miss a single thing you do tonight,
Hey soul sister, I don't want to miss a single thing you do...tonight
I'm calling the cops
Hey, hey,hey

Hey, hey,hey
tonight what?


screw you man


Friday, July 2, 2010

Surprised this hasn't happened at the World Cup yet


Anyone else wish this would actually happen?

Tuesday, June 29, 2010


I DARE you to find a catchier song than this. Double dog dare. I really don't know if I'm blinded by the ass, but(t) this song stays in my head for ages. It's going to be my song when I walk down the aisle at my funeral.


call on me

call      on       me.

call. on. me. 

What are the catchy songs that stay in your brain's basement?

My friendly palm

You know you spend too much on your computer when your mousing palm has been smoothed from all the use :( At least I think it's from the computer.

Otherwise it might be my mousing palm's 'benefits' doing this :( :( :(

Friday, June 25, 2010

My gifts and why they don’t suck

Everyone loves gifts. Wait, everyone “loves” gifts. While I have met people that don’t like receiving gifts (myself included, I feel unnecessarily guilty), the majority of people enjoy gifts. This is a given. But recently I gave a gift to a friend who felt it was not up to standard. At first I thought he was kidding - my gifts are always fucking stellar. How do I know this? Because I give the same thing every fucking time. And every time it is like Jesus Christ himself has come out from under his rock (haha, fat chance) and created this gift with his own bare hands. Now, I hear you asking, “What could POSSIBLY be a great gift over and over without deteriorating in quality?” The answer is simple. $20 and a block of chocolate.

$20 and a block of chocolate go together perfectly. Like fat people and pizza, like Burger and King, like auto and tune, like peace and happiness, like bitches and hoes. All of these things fit together like a nice pair of Chinese made tennis shoes. My friend, who shall be named Frederick for the purpose of this document, obviously didn’t see it this way. At the time of giving it to him, he was stoked. “Awesome!” I believe was his word. A small satisfactory head nod/wink signaled my acknowledgment that I understood he enjoyed the gift, and the night went on to bring much joy to the people. A couple days later he slipped his gift into a conversation, that’s when things got hot and heavy in the most heterosexual of ways.

“Hey, you know that gift you got me?” he said, out of the blue.
“Yeah of course! Bet it tasted great!”
“It was pretty thoughtless.”

Needless to say, I was flabberly flabbergasted. What could someone POSSIBLY think is thoughtless about receiving the two most sought after things on the planet? Actually, scratch that, the UNIVERSE. Show me one man who doesn’t think money is cool and I will show you a gigolo. Show me one woman who doesn’t like chocolate and I will show you a strung out Nicole Richie. Me, being the nice guy I am (not really, I just knew this would be great content for an article), listened to Frederick as he tried to reason with me. “It’s just pretty clear you didn’t put much thought into it is all.” First of all, when someone ends a sentence with “is all”, you can replace “is all” with “you asshole”, and the tone of the sentence stays exactly the same. Try it at home!

I could’ve got Frederick a variety of things, and till the day I die, I will argue this point: anything OTHER than $20 and a block of chocolate will not bring 100% total satisfaction. Think about it. The $20 will be there whenever he wants, and he can use it however he wants. Even being lenient, the chocolate will be eaten within 2 months, max. Unless you’re a normal person, in which case it will be devoured in less than 3 hours.

I could buy him a CD. But he will probably not like 1 or 2 songs on it. 100% SATISFACTION GONE. Even if he DOES like every song, joke's on him, because the CD technology will be out of date by the time he dies. Can’t play it all the way to his deathbed. 100% SATISFACTION GONE.

I could buy him a case of beer. What happens if he drops it, and while picking up the pieces he contracts HIV on a nearby needle his junkie cousin Emily was using just 3 days prior? 100% SATISFACTION GONE.

I could buy him a video game. What happens if, in a drunken HIV haze, he mistakes his toaster for his Xbox. Pretty sure gifts aren’t meant to electrocute someone. 100% SATISFACTION GONE.

I could get him a 3 horsepower power tool with the capability to cut a man’s arm off in one slice with ease. He would probably never use it. 100% SATISFACTION GONE.

Obviously these are exaggerations, and no power tool is capable of doing that in one slice. I’d say it takes about 6 or 7 depending on your skeletal strength. (Also HIV is no joke. Stay in school kids. Or skip and read it on Wiki.) In fact, the ONLY thing better than $20 and a block of chocolate is MORE money and MORE chocolate. And you can bet your unthoughtful ass if I had more chocolate and more money, you would sure as hell be getting it, FREDERICK, IS ALL.

The next time you think someone could do better than $20 and a block of chocolate, think again. You’re getting a gift from Jesus Christ himself.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Russell Crowe

During filming for Robin Hood, Russell Crowe said he was shooting close to 175 arrows a day, similar to that of an Olympic archer. He also was averaging punching 1 man a day, similar to that of an Olympic boxer.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Why I won't be buying a 3D TV

Ever since Avatar came out, the world has joined as one in one massive 3D circle jerk (with full panoramic view). Now, I'm fine with a circle jerk, especially when they are over blue extra-terrestrials with smoking bodies, but in this instance I have to refrain from throwing my (proverbial) hat in the ring. I don't want a 3D TV. Not because of the clunky glasses, not because of the astronomical price of the technology, not because of the various other pieces you have to buy to make the TV actually work, not because of the 5 million formats you have to consider, not because of the strain the 3D puts on your eyes, not because of the difficulty viewing the TV from anywhere but in front of the TV set, not because of the limited amount of things to watch that are actually in 3D, but because I remember what my life was like when I got HD TV. I remember it clearly, but I remember the aftermath just as vividly. I could see everything! Every blade of grass, every drop of sweat, every growing curve on Mariah Carey's body. I could die the very next day and I would die happy. I had joined the HD circle jerk and I had come away with not a single bit of (proverbial) egg on my face. This was the life, a perfect viewing experience. It didn't matter if I was 1 inch away or 10 feet. Every encounter was more pleasant than the last. But the day came where I was without my HD TV. I was at a friend's house. "You wanna watch some TV?" "For sure" I said, unaware of the physical assault my eyes were about to take. He flicks on the television. My eyes have been spoiled by the gloriousness (yeah it's a word) of my HD TV for about a week now. As the pixels fill out the black on the TV, my eyes take a pounding. "YOU DON'T HAVE HD TV?" I scream, sweat piling on my forehead. I relate it to being mugged. You don't want to look the guy in the eyes in case there is eye contact and he gets pissed. But you have to. You have to so you know what he looks like, for when the police come. In this case, the HD police. Watching regular TV after you've been watching full HD TV for a week is like a guy named Jeff who wont stop throwing dirt in your eyes when you're 7 years old because he thinks it's funny (fuck you Jeff). It's physical assault. I'd rather smother my face with a pillow and just listen to the sound. I'm virtually blind anyway with this terrible picture quality. DAMN YOU REGULAR TV. I went home crying. I felt like I had been raped. This is why I won't be buying a 3D TV. Because going from 3D TV to a regular TV will be like this experience on a whole new 3D, Avatar scale. When 3D is the norm in households, I will buy one. But not now. Not while these HD wounds are still healing.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010