You just made my list!

If I am ever this bored please kill me. Punch me in the face, take the metal detector out of my trembling hands, use it to find the nearest large metal item and kill me with it. The only problem with this plan is that it will most likely take you 10 years to find a metal “treasure” big enough to even slightly wound me. I don’t want to sit there for weeks while you try to kill me with someone’s lost earring. Fuck it, just kill me with the metal detector.

I know I shouldn’t care if this activity makes people happy, especially since it’s usually old guys, but it depresses me while I’m chugging my Corona and flexing my biceps for the young ladies who inevitably crowd around me at the beach. Do these dorks realize how hard it is to keep my pecs pumped while watching this sad display out of the corner of my eye? I’m trying to decide which girl gets to oil me up while Joe Treasure Hunter is collecting bottle caps. It’s very distracting.

THIS JUST IN… I love metal detector enthusiasts!

It’s bad enough being told to “dream” by some piece of shit hanging on your wall, but when you cheerfully ask me to let God’s love climb inside me and do something blah blah blah at the end of your email, it fills me with a form of rage yet to be described by the English language.

I just want to know why you haven’t shipped my Ninja swords yet, I don’t need your dime store Obi-Wan Kenobi bullshit at the end of your email. When a person is sitting at home waiting for their fucking Ninja swords to arrive so that he might protect himself from rival Ninjas in the neighborhood, do you really think he wants to be told “When you believe in yourself the possibilities are endless?” NO! I WANT MY SWORDS!

Why is it that the more horrible and pathetic your shitty life is the more you believe in crappy inspirational nonsense? Do you think Donald Trump ends his emails with “Faith is daring the soul to go beyond what the eyes can see?” Of course not, and we all know Donald Trump is the most powerful, rich, awesome, charismatic, classy man in the universe. We should be so lucky! You think Donald Trump has to lock himself in the house for two weeks while he waits for his swords to arrive? Are you kidding? That man gets his swords flown to him on a private jet directly from Chinese Ninja training camps.

And PLEASE stop telling me to have a “blessed day.” I don’t want a blessed day, I simply want my swords.

Yeah that’s right, I said onion rings! Bring it on motherfuckers!

I’m really getting tired of these asshole onion rings walking around like they are God’s gift to fast food. We have all been bamboozled by these greasy jerks for too long and it’s time someone took a stand! This is your cue to use that annoying voice of yours to quietly say to the computer, “Who do you think you are? I like onion rings.” Do you ever listen to yourself? Let me tell you something, you THINK you like onion rings. You don’t.

First of all, what makes these jerks so expensive? When did onions become the Cristal Champagne of vegetables? It’s not even a vegetable, what the hell is it? Why is a giant basket of french fries half the price of these six pathetic pieces of crap you just brought me?

Secondly, It would be nice to bite into an onion ring without hot air shooting into my mouth. I feel like I’m giving a jet engine a blowjob. I’m hungry now, onion rings, I don’t want to wait two hours to eat you.

And another thing, it sure is nice to have that slimy onion booger flop out of the batter on the first bite leaving me looking like an idiot holding my empty ring. Nice teamwork onion.

Before you start pissing your panties with anger, consider this… battered and fried onions DO taste awesome BUT the ring format must be put to rest. I suggest we all switch to onion CHIPS!

I am right, I know everything.

Are you tired of cracking eggs in your mouth and eyes? Are you sick of cracking eggs with a shovel? Do the simplest tasks cause you great anxiety because you are such a fucking moron? Not anymore. Introducing the EZ Cracker egg cracking robot!

I can’t tell you how many times I have tried to crack an egg by chucking it against the wall, only to be disappointed by an omelette filled with dangerous shells. For a brief period in the early 1990s I would crack most of my eggs by running them over with a rented Home Depot truck but even THAT didn’t work. At least it gave me a good excuse to enjoy the many grunge radio stations programmed into the truck’s radio. I would wake up around noon, brush my long hair, tie a flannel shirt around my waist and mosh my way to the driveway for another attempt at making a delicious ham and cheese omelette.

To add insult to injury, I would be forced to listen to Eddie Vedder and Chris Cornell scream “I’m going hungry” while attempting to crack open eggs in my rented pickup. If only the fucking EZ Cracker existed in 1992!

Congratulations, you can scrape two things together, now that’s what I call talent!

Not since the invention of the hacky sack have smelly fuckheads had such a useless form to express themselves. Isn’t it ironic that filthy hippies would choose an object made for cleaning to make “music?”

I guess it makes sense really. Some folksy turd was probably sitting around his shack when something shiny in the corner caught his eye. Having never washed his clothes or body, he stared and poked at it like the apes in 2001: A Space Odyssey when the monolith appears. He probably grabbed his booger-pickin’ spoon from the cluttered floor and threw it at the washboard, thinking it was some sort of a dag-gone space monster or something. Well there must have been something about that horrible clang of metal hitting metal that sounded like music to his dirty hillbilly ears, because the next thing you know, he’s jiving and shucking all over the woods with his jug of xxx moonshine and his new “instrument.”

Now, thanks to this dick, I’m forced to see these assholes every Fat Tuesday on the wacky morning news, jamming with some shitty Zydeco band. You know what? Zydeco, you just made my list too. You suck!

OK, everyone can stop crying about it now, the transfer to my new host has begun. I will be back up and complaining in a hilarious fashion in a couple days. Lucky for you all this bullshit is making me extra angry and cranky. I’m about to go off the rails.

Sorry the site has been slow and/or down the last couple days. I’m finally going to bite the bullet and get the fuck away from my piece of shit host. So please be patient as I get that setup, it might take a few days. I’ve said it before, FUCK EVERYTHING!

I accidentally ate half of a Pizza Hut pizza last night and it led to a series of events that prevented me from writing anything. BUT, I have been meaning to point you in the direction of some older posts, so I will do that now. Not because the posts are all that great, but certain topics have become magnets for excessively dumb comments. I’m sure most of you regulars don’t both digging back into past comments, but you might enjoy some of the conversations you have been missing.

The crazy comments usually start half way down…

Andy Samberg and his shitty Digital Shorts!

Irish Dancing!

Parkour!

See you Monday.