You just made my list!

Shut up, I’m still on vacation!

Some brilliantly stupid awesome dumbness from these idiots – jabooodydubs.com

Mighty Putty

Big Shitty Slider Station

Being lazy is easier then ever with the gopher!

Yeah, that’s right, I finally snapped! I couldn’t take it any longer and had to escape to the beach. I’m not saying which beach because I don’t need one of my many fans to stalk me and try to sell photos of me on vacation to TMZ. Rest assured I will be warm and toasty as I do absolutely nothing all day, every day for a week. Knowing how fragile my readers can be and how empty your lives are without me, I have decided to give you a full week of things I actually LIKE rather than shut the site down. Don’t get too excited, I’m not writing shit. I’m just going to post some cool/funny/interesting/dumb videos. Feel free to say terrible things about me while I’m gone because I will not be checking in.

YOU’RE WELCOME!
♥ List Guy

Did you make Noel Gallagher’s love/hate list?

OK, I will explain this one time and one time only… NEVER put ketchup on a hot dog!

The only exception is if you are a child. I have come up with a handy way to know if you are too old to put ketchup on a hot dog. If you are old enough to grow pubes you are too old to put ketchup on a hot dog. It’s that simple. As Maurie Berman, owner of Superdawg, says “Ketchup on a hot dog is an abomination!”

So what is allowed on your precious wiener?
– All-Beef frank, grilled not boiled
– Neon green relish
– Raw white onion
– Yellow mustard
– Cucumber slices
– Tomato wedges
– Shredded lettuce
– Dill pickle spear
– Celery salt
– Hot sport peppers (optional but advised)
– All resting nicely on a steamed poppy seed bun

In Chicago this is known as “dragging it through the garden.” As a hot dog expert I can tell you there are no better hot dogs than in Chicago. New York easily wins the pizza battle but Chicago owns the hot dog.

(said in annoying whiny voice) “But I like ketchup on my hot dogs.” BULLSHIT! Stop embarrassing yourself.

Best Chicago style hot dog: Murphy’s Red Hots – 1211 W. Belmont, Chicago
Best fancy dogs: Hot Doug’s – 3324 N. California, Chicago

I want to hate Ryan Seacrest so bad! I want the sight of his face to make poop involuntarily explode from my ass. I’m not sure why I would want that to happen now that I think of it. Let’s just say every cell in my body tells me to hate this turd but I can’t do it. I LIKE RYAN SEACREST and I want the world to know it!

You know what, good for him for realizing his only talent is being a bland nice guy and making a career of it. If there was a computer programmed to create humans and you instructed it to create the absolute least offensive person possible it would shoot out Ryan Seacrest. On paper that sounds like reason enough to hate him but it’s not. There are plenty of bland celebrities worthy of your anger but they are offensively boring. Ryan is just lovably boring.

So who’s offensively bland? People like Pete Wentz, Jay Leno and Gwen Stefani are aggressively boring to me whereas Ryan is just lovably middle-of-the-road. He’s smart too. He stays out of trouble and works hard at being America’s nice guy. It’s making him rich and making me fall in love with him.

Maybe it’s the fever talking.

I’m not sure when the phrase “it is what it is” came on the scene but I feel like over the last year I hear it every day from someone. I can’t quite put my finger on why but it bugs me. It’s the equivalent of saying nothing.

I feel like I usually hear it coming from the puffy mouth of a bikini-clad slut right after she barfs in the refrigerator on “Rock of Love” or some other reality TV whore-fest.

I have a cold, I feel like shit and that’s all I feel like writing. I need a nap. Sorry, it is what it is.

We’ve all been to Bed Bath & Beyond and marveled at their wall of shitty mass-produced art. Most of us (I hope all of you) make the correct decision to keep walking straight out the door with our bags filled with water filters, shower radios, margarita stations, candles and various unneeded “As Seen on TV” items. Believe it or not, there are people who stop at the giant wall of crap and think, “I wonder if that painting of the word ‘dream’ would fit over our bed?”

Holy shit, look at this photo I took today. I don’t want to live in a world with people who see framed plates and don’t have the instinct to smash them with a baseball bat. The words “mass-produced” and “art” should never be near each other. OK smart ass, go ahead and lecture me about Andy Warhol or popular music. Get it out of your system (I looking at you Jeff). This is different and you know it.

Believe it or not there is something even worse than the Bed Bath & Beyond “art” gallery. When I see the crap, hipster, bullshit “art” that Urban Outfitters sells I want to pick up the nearest pair of $100 purposely-ripped jeans and hang myself. It turns my stomach. Is there anything less hip than plastering your walls with the same piece of shit silk screened monster truck that the rest of your dipshit hipster friends have?

People who are lucky enough to have visited my home may question my choice in art but if anything it’s the exact opposite of mass-produced.

It’s not easy being so right all the time but I manage.

I was already having a bad day and now this?

I went to see “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” and not only was I punished for this decision by having to sit through it, I now have a cold that I undoubtedly caught from one of the many mouth-breathers who made up the audience of cackling idiots. Just when I thought the day was winding down and I could drift off to sleep on the couch I accidentally turned on the Grammys. What I saw will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Do you remember the first time you saw footage of that Vietnamese solider shooting that Vietcong guy in the head? Remember watching this man die right on the street, blood pouring from his head? Take that horrible, disgusting, soul-crushing feeling and multiply it by approximately 523,038 and you will know how I felt seeing the Jonas Brothers shitting their shit all over “Superstition” while poor Stevie jammed along with them obliviously. Who is responsible? Who could do this to Stevie? Did they tell him it was Radiohead or The White Stripes? Taking advantage of a blind man like that makes me sick. SICK!

I mean that’s the only way Stevie Wonder would ever perform with the Jonas Brothers, right?