Saturday, September 26, 2009

The Internet is for Porn

Every once in awhile, I get instant messages from what I guess are IM robots, trying to lure me to their sex sites. Normally I just report them as spam, but I was bored on this fine Saturday and decided to play along. The following is the ACTUAL exchange I had today with a porn-bot:

whitneylamb8066: Whats up?!
floridachad: my weiner

whitneylamb8066: hello?
floridachad: Is it me you're looking for? Yeah, I'm a big Lionel Richie fan myself

whitneylamb8066: do i know you??
floridachad: Absolutely. I'm the dude that watches you through your bathroom window when you're taking a dump.

whitneylamb8066: ohh hey what's up babes??
floridachad: Not much. Just got done eating dinner. I had grilled kittens with a wasabi sauce.

whitneylamb8066: i've been a little busy with work, just got home and fresh out of the shower! i'm kinda feeling a little naughty lol..u?
floridachad: Sure. You wanna go burn down someone's house? I have a new lighter that I've been dying to try out.

whitneylamb8066: yeah i'm horny lolz! u?
floridachad: Arson makes you horny? That's a bit odd. You know what'd be sexy? You should stick a potato peeler up your hoo-hah and then douche with some Texas Pete hot sauce.

whitneylamb8066: Mhhm babe i love a guy who knows what he wants..can u be that guy ??
floridachad: Are you asking me to kill somebady and then take his place? I could totally do that.

whitneylamb8066: I love to tease my man and please him..u like that babes??
floridachad: Do I like to be teased? Not really, I think that's pretty fucking rude. I want to helicopter kick you in the face now.

whitneylamb8066: Nice!! lolz i even like to dress up for my man...u into that?
floridachad: Definitely. Will you dress up in a Chewbacca outfit? I'd love some wookie nookie.

whitneylamb8066: you have a cam?
floridachad: By "cam" do you mean a rotating or sliding piece in a mechanical linkage used especially in transforming rotary motion into linear motion or vice versa, because I have a shitload of those just lying around.

whitneylamb8066: I have one but you're not a kid right?
floridachad: I'm 12, but I'll be 13 in November. Do you like bubble gum? I eat my own boogers.

whitneylamb8066: Can never really be know??
floridachad: I have no idea what you're talking about. My dog licks his own butthole.

whitneylamb8066: k ..well im gonna show you ..k?
floridachad: Show me what? What the hell are you babbling about? You sound like a fucking moron.

whitneylamb8066: yup, just put in your info so the system can verify your age, u got it?
floridachad: What'll I use to verify my age, my driver's license? I'm only 12!! I want to stab you about the face and neck with a spork.

whitneylamb8066: i use this site to play on cause i don't want to be recorded!...this site doesn't allow people to record my cam! u know?
floridachad: No, I don't know. Are you on drugs? Cuz I think drugs are kick ass. I just farted and it smells like Taco Bell.

whitneylamb8066: credit card is just to verify your age, u get in for free thru my cam session invite but u need to verify babe ..cant show tits and pussy to know? lolz
floridachad: I don't have a credit card, because again, I'm only 12 years old. But I'm still interested in the whole tits and pussy looking. Will you accept a pack of Yu-Gi-Oh cards and my pet bullfrog, Jeremiah?

whitneylamb8066: Sorry babe you have to put in a vaild cc number so they know ur not a kid.. kidz r not allowed
floridachad: Oh, then why the fuck are you teasing me? I told you that teasing is not cool. I'm gonna come to your house and murder you in your sleep.

whitneylamb8066: let me know if you need any help..i'm gonna slip into something nice for you..k?
floridachad: I wish you would slip on a patch of ice and break your vagina.

whitneylamb8066: if its not working u can check out my other site babes.. go to scroll all the way down to the bottom babe, and you will see "friends of ME!!!", click that and when you get the password page, put in the password:"lucky" okay?
floridachad: That sounds like a lot of work. I'm just gonna take my dog and some peanut butter into my bedroom. I have a racecar bed.

whitneylamb8066: k
floridachad: Allrightythen, I guess this is goodbye. Good luck with whatever the fuck it is you do and try not to catch gonorrhea.

whitneylamb8066: hello???
floridachad: Are you there God? It's me, Margaret.

whitneylamb8066: are u in babe???
floridachad: Well, I have a pretty small penis, cuz again, and I can't stress this enough, I'm only 12. I'm pretty sure I'm in though, oh, no wait, that's your butthole. Wow, you're really hairy down there. You should get a controlled burn to thin out some of that bush.

Much to my disappointment, she never responded. Still, it was a fun time waster, and I look forward to my next IM.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Whacky Wednesday!!

Well, I’ll just get right to the point. Wednesday’s the day that I have to jerk off into this plastic cup.

No doubt many of you are shocked to read that last statement, what with paper cups being a much “greener” alternative.
You’re probably wondering why I’m being forced to play a little "five-on-one" with the purple-headed yogurt slinger, and to fully understand it, we need to go back in time.

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was"…SHIT!! Sorry, went back too far.

Ah, here we are, October '07. After many years of unprotected sex (the bed of nails was the worst), and no resulting pregnancy, Tina and I decided to visit a fertility expert for some testing on our bits ‘n pieces. Tina had the first round of tests performed on her, and in a few days her results came back as normal. I’m not sure what the tests consisted of, but I’m certain it involved stirrups and a speculum, and probably resembled a wormhole in a sci-fi flick.

If she wants to give you the details of her procedure, you can check out her blog at IHeartEdwardCullen.TwilightDouche/GrowUpAlready/ThisBookIsForLittleGirlsNotGrownAssWomen.
Her normal results led me to visit the Center for Reproductive Medicine in Winter Park, Florida, or “Spank Bank” for short. Here’s where it gets fun. You see, all my years of watching “R” rated movies had ingrained into my head that the clinic would be run by supermodel nurses that handed out dirty magazines and nasty pornos, and maintained a general level of sophomoric fun.
Instead, I was led to a 5’x5’ sterile white room with a toilet and a sink with a mirror above it – I guess in case I wanted to (shudder) watch myself “giving the seamen their shore leave”? No magazine, no movie, no supermodel nurses. It can’t get any worse, oh no wait, I just saw myself in the mirror…that made it worse. It is seriously more unwatchable than an episode of “According to Jim.” Now I’m left to my own vivid imagination, and while it worked, let’s just say that you do NOT want to hear my version of “Jackin’ the Beanstalk.”

Leaving out all the degrading details, I finish up, but then I’m stuck in another quandary. I start to wonder how long I’ve been in the bathroom. Was it two minutes or ten minutes? Should I sit in here longer to make it appear like I’m a total stud, but if I’m in there too long will they think I’m playing amusement park with my body? And am I going to get a boner every time I’m in the powder room at my own house? And how do I walk back through the lobby looking all cool, when those people out there know what I was doing. And I know that they know, and they know that I know that they know. SHIT! I did not think this through. I quickly make up my mind to leave. I place the cup in the little metal slot, open the bathroom door, and see a nurse standing there waiting for me. SHIT! I start questioning my "staying power" again, and on top of it my face is flushed and I’m sweating like a dog in a Korean deli. The nurse points me to a side door where I can exit the building. I’m so grateful that I don’t have to make the walk of shame back through the lobby, that I coolly give the nurse a thumbs up and say, “Right on," like I'm some kind of creepy, masturbating Fonzie

Seriously, the last half hour of my life was like an episode of “Curb Your Enthusiasm.”
The results came back that our difficulty to conceive was because of me. It turns out that you can’t get pregnant from butt sex like I had learned growing up. Damn you public schools! Although in retrospect, I may have misheard the teacher. It’s hard to listen when you giggle every time you hear the word “anal.” HeeHee. Anal. HeeHee. It still gets me.
Eventually, we went for a second opinion and the doctor said I was fine, the problem was with Tina. He was obviously much more educated than the first quack we saw.
Later on, we found a third doctor that we used as a tiebreaker. He too confirmed that I was not the issue, and that it was indeed a problem with Tina’s plumbing. This doctor was also highly intelligent, and is likely the king of Harvard or something. After that last visit, we’ve debated on and off for the last year or so the pros and cons of going any further with it.

Baby Fever hit my wife again recently, thanks in no small part to all of our friends, who apparently have never heard of the pull out method. Seriously, one of my buddies is only a few years away from being able to field a softball team.
Today, Tina went through a follow-up “inspection” that involved a small camera. After watching the procedure through the point of view of the camera lens, I kinda feel like renting Stargate.
The next step is for me to submit a “sample” for diagnosis, and essentially just to confirm that my boys swim like Michael Phelps. The good news is that I get to” whomp the walrus” in the comfort of my own home. The bad news is that I have to take it to the facility immediately after instead of falling asleep.
I’m writing this as I get prepared mentally to escort my one-eyed prisoner out of his denim cell for his date with “Ol’ Spanky” tomorrow. Not quite sure if it’ll be in the bathroom, bedroom, or maybe just right here on the couch while watching Sportscenter. Either way, I’m gonna have to find some way to dress up this receptacle into something sexier. Maybe tape a picture of Angelina Jolie to it with the mouth hole cut out?

Or make it a game, like perhaps a picture of a Skeeball machine with the 50 point circle removed?

Whichever method I use, I just want you all to remember what I wrote here today. And the next time I try to shake your hand, go for the fist bump instead.

Now if you don’t mind, I have a to go get ready…

Monday, September 14, 2009

"Adios, Amigo"

Patrick Swayze gave up his ghost (wow, what a fucking tacky pun) on Monday after losing his battle with pancreatic cancer at the age of 57.

Swayze left behind a wife of 35 years (which I find incredible, because if I become famous, I'm kicking my old lady to the hear me, you Twilight-loving wretch!? I'm not Edward!!), and almost 50 big-screen and televison roles. In his honor, I present my top 7 list of Patrick Swayze performances (in no particular order):

1) Jed in "Red Dawn" -

A rag-tag group of whiny high school kids rise up against stinky Cubans and dirty Commie bastards that take over the good ol U S of A. And they drink hot deer blood. Viva Le Wolverines!!
Plot Flaw: Sarah Palin could see Russia from her house and didn't even warn us? What a bitch.
Memorable Swayze Quote: "Well, when you grow up...then you'll know these things, Danny. Now get up here and piss in the radiator."

2) Sam in "Ghost" -

Murdered man's spirit makes pennies float and compels a psychic to protect his wife from the dude that stabbed him. Oh yeah, he also convinces every woman in the world to buy a pottery wheel. That Righteous Brothers song is surely responsible for countless out-of-wedlock pregnancies.
Plot Flaw: Whoopi Goldberg won an Oscar. Not really a plot flaw, but COME ON!
Memorable Swayze Quote: "Ditto."

3) Darrel in "The Outsiders" -

Preppies are rude, Billy the Kid uses a butterfly knife, the Karate Kid gets burned, Soul Man has an epiphany, and Swayze is the king of the greaseballs.
Plot Flaw: Diane Lane doesn't get naked
Memorable Swayze Quote: "You smoke more than a pack today and I'll skin you. Understood?"

4) Johnny in "Dirty Dancing"

Big-nosed Jewish girl goes to uppity Catskills summer camp with her parents, learns to shake her ass to somewhat tolerable 60's music, convinces father to help woman that had back-alley abortion, has sex with older man-whore, and stars in grand finale of talent show to a song from three decades in the future.
Plot Flaw: Baby is too young to drive a car, but has sex with a dude in his late 20's, and somehow everybody is okay with this? Pedophilia's never been so well received.
Memorbale Swayze Quote: "Nobody puts Baby in a corner." - except maybe her father, you creepy pederast.

5) Adrian in SNL Chippendale's sketch with Chris Farley -

Patrick Swayze - Chippendale
Uploaded by tressage. -

One of the funniest bits in Saturday Night Live history, and I just had to include it.

6) Dalton in "Roadhouse" -

Bouncer cleans up shit-kicker bar with the help of that old biker dude from Mask, shows bare ass to homely waitress, and rips out a guys throat. Jeff Healey never plays "Angel Eyes".
Plot Flaw: None, it's the perfect ass-whipping testosterone-laden man movie.
Memorable Swayze Quote: "Pain don't hurt."

7) Bodhi in "Point Break" -

Two Feds (Secreatariat lookalike and the dude from the Matrix) go undercover to infiltrate bank robbers/surfers/skydivers, many "Whoa''s" ensue, Swayze dies at the end...or does he?
Plot Flaw: Gary Busey and Keanu Reeves are the FBI agents. I'll suspend reality when watching a movie, but that's just ridiculous.
Memorable Swayze Quote: "Adios, Amigo."

Adios, indeed.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Joe Wilson douchebag follow-up!

Gotta love Corbin Bernsen and the quick turnover for this video:

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Douches Wild!

I was watching the Presidential Address on health care last night, and about halfway through the speech, South Carolina Republican Joe Wilson shouted, “You lie!” Now regardless of what side of the aisle you sit on, heckling a sitting President as a member of Congress seems pretty unprofessional. He may as well have just yelled “Look at me! Look at me!” because it’s obvious that his intention was to get his name in the paper so that his red state constituents will back this “good ‘ol boy” in his next election.

“Hey Billy Bob, y’all see that Wilson feller give it to Osama on the TV last night? That there’s my kind of American. If'in I wadn’t a felon, and knew what a lie-bary was, I’d go to there and vote fer him, yes sir.”

In honor of Joe Wilson’s unnecessary outburst, I present a list of douchebags in no particular order:

1. Actor Charlie Sheen –

The former addict of porno, drugs, prostitutes, and gambling, has recently scripted an “imagined” interview with the President concerning the September 11 attacks. Apparently, this douchebag is a conspiracy theorist and believes the events of 9/11 were perpetrated by our own government and that Osama Bin Laden is on the U.S. payroll. Look, Charles, I’m sure there are much smarter men than you looking into this. Why don’t you just get back to making more episodes of that completely brainless sitcom you’re in on ABC? Although… Ya know, Charlie, on second thought, you should cancel that sitcom and focus all of your energy on researching 9/11 and never get in front of a camera again. Ever. Never ever. Please.

2. Guys with fake tans, spiked hair, and tight t-shirts that call each other “brah” –

At this point, they’ve actually become parodies of themselves. Baggadouche.

3. Television Executives

Let me see if I’ve got this straight. “Arrested Development” was cancelled after winning six Emmy Awards and a Golden Globe in only two and a half seasons, but was essentially too sharp and witty for FOX, a network that showcases cartoons and “Prison Break”. “According To Jim” was on the air for eight years…EIGHT!! How the hell is that possible? At least “Arrested Development” was original. This stupid ass “Jim” show is about a fat guy married to a skinny woman…and they have kids. Holy shit! That’s brilliant! Nobody’s ever witnessed a sitcom with that family dynamic in the history of television! Stupid Douchebags!

4. Musician Axl Rose –

His ego ruined one of the great rock bands of all time. And he had cornrows in his hair. And he got to have sex with Stephanie Seymour. Trifecta of douchery.

5. Girls that pucker up in every picture they take –

Why has this become a trend? Knock it off you silly whores. You look like a largemouth bass.

6. Producers Mary-Ellis Bunim and Jon Murray –

In 1992, they created the genesis of reality television with “The Real World,” and a genre was launched. 17 years later, we have “Goat Swap,” “Who Wants to Bang a Midget?” and “Let’s All Marry A Fatty.” We now live in a world where William Hung, Tila Tequila, and Richard Hatch are famous, and more people vote for “American Idol” than do for the Presidential election. And it all started with Bunim/Murray Productions. Thanks for dumbing-down America, you douchebags.

7. Frat Boys –

Don’t believe me? Try talking to one.

8. Movie Critic Joel Siegel –

In 2006, Siegel walked out of a screening of Clerks II about 40 minutes into the flick. But in true douchebag fashion, he didn’t go quietly. Rather, he yelled out “Time to go!” and “This is the first movie I’ve walked out of in 30 fucking years!” Why be courteous to your fellow moviegoers, when being a self-centered jackass is so much easier? By the way, that movie was funny as hell, and Joel Siegel is dead, so…yeah.

9. The entire cast of “The View” –

Imagine standing in the middle of a cornfield filled with crows, and all you can hear is a cacophony of “CAW! CAW! CAW! CAW!” at an incessantly high volume. That seems to be the premise of this show that “empowers” women by reducing themselves to the lowest common denominator of arguing, whiny, bitchy little brats that try to win arguments by out-douching each other.

10. Author Stephanie Meyer –

This douchebag authored the Twilight series and brainwashed my wife:
This is obviously just a small representation of the douchebag population. I could fill a book with the names of lying politicians, hypocritical Christians, ignorant racists, corporate thieves, and pompous yuppie assholes. Hmm, I wonder if I could get an Oprah Book Club sticker on “The Big Book of Douchebags?”

Yeah?! Thanks…you douchebag!

Thursday, September 3, 2009

The Tell-Tale Shart

I now have one less pair of boxer shorts. You see, everyone tells you that beans make you toot, but back in July, I discovered the REAL magical fruit…dried apricots. I’ve eaten them all my life, but always in moderation. That fateful night in July, I ate two full bowls of these crap-tastic suckers. The following day, what my digestive system went through is nearly indescribable. Picture those scenes on Black Friday, when shoppers are lined up thousands deep outside of Wal-mart, and when the doors open at 5am, they explode through them with elbows flying and punches thrown while stepping on the fallen bodies of their fellow shoppers.

I’m sure you see where I’m going here, but for those not following, imagine that those people are human excrement and Wal-mart is a toilet…which, come to think of it, isn’t that far of a stretch.

It was a day I’ll never forget. It started so innocently, a few farts in the morning, nothing unusual.

But after a few cups of coffee, my bowels UNLEASHED HELL!

I’ll try to describe this as delicately as I can without getting overly disgusting. Let me just say that I was running from the couch to the toilet so quickly, that Usain Bolt gave me a gold medal. I went through a 2000 Flushes puck in a mere 10 hours and enough toilet paper to supply every high school homecoming festivity in America. And the inside of the toilet looked like I was either chumming the ocean for a great white or trying to replicate a Jackson Pollock canvas.

And the noises coming from my backdoor trots sounded like the horn section of a Milwaukee polka band combined with a 4th of July fireworks celebration.

And the odor…oh god, the odor. A funereal bouquet of decomposition. Imagine Rosie O’Donnell running the New York Marathon while wearing leather hot pants in 110 degree heat, and then when she crosses the finish line, you have to smell her pungent taint.

And with this bout of Montezuma’s Revenge came the gallons of perspiration. Seriously, I was sweating like a gerbil in a gay bar.

By the end of the evening, my rectum was raw and I’d developed tendinitis in my elbow from all the wiping. Another painful lesson learned in my stupid ass life.

The reason I’m writing about this right now is twofold:

1) For all of you people spending insane amounts of money on colonics, a 36oz bag of dried apricots will run you $6.12 at Sam’s Club. I just saved you a shitload of money. Pun intended.

2) I know the current price because I bought it today. And I’m snacking on some as I write this blog. And I’m wondering what would happen if I ate three bowls of them.

Actually, it would be more accurate to say that I’m seriously considering eating three bowls of these little fecal forcers. Why? Why would I do that to myself after everything I just wrote? Because I’m fuckin stupid, and maybe, just maybe, I will get my 15 minutes of fame. Even if it is just a brief mention in the New England Journal of Medicine as the first person to literally shit their brains out.