You just made my list!

Today is my birthday, so you are lucky I am even taking the time to write about this creepy bullshit.

Do you know what a “dakimakura” is? If you answered yes to this question and then looked across the room to see your pillow girlfriend sitting on the couch watching TV, I kindly ask you to drive to Home Depot, buy a chain saw and mutilate your entire crotch area. God damn it, I don’t want to live in a world where men marry pillows. Global warming can’t come fast enough.

Sure, I dated a few tube socks in high school, but I never took them to prom or bought them flowers. I may have made out with my pillow a few times in junior high while watching scrambled porn on channel 44, but that was just young love. It never went further then heavy petting and casual dating. To be honest, I had a fear of commitment back then. How could I be sure this was THE pillow I was meant to be with for the rest of my life? I was young and there were lots of linens out there to explore. OK if you want the truth, I had my heart broken by a pillow when I was 16 and I don’t really feel like talking about it!

My birthday is officially ruined.

Fuck you.

Chef Daniel Angerer wants you to know he’s cool and the only way he could think to convince you is to milk his wife like a cow and start churning titty milk into boob cheese. Keep your disgusting hooter cheese to yourself, you douche.

The female breast is meant to be soaked with icy water and judged in Mexican bars, not used as an Easy Cheese can. God made boobs so young girls have a way to acquire beads and T-shirts, he never intended them to be used as nacho cheese fountains.

On his blog, Angerer rambles on about some hippie bullshit and wanting to donate his wife’s excess milk to Haiti, but somehow that morphed into sweater cheese. This guy craves attention even more than I do!

I was all set to write about how much I hate the Oscars, but God damn it, I didn’t mind them this year. I was happy to see The Hurt Locker steal awards away from that piece of shit Avatar. Keep in mind, I have not seen either movie and yet I have a strong opinion on both. I’m proud to be an American!

Since I have celebrities on my mind, let’s talk about how much more awesome I am than Johnny Depp.

I like Johnny Depp as an actor and I’m sure it would be fun to get drunk with him and have a sword fight. Not like a penis sword fight, I mean with real swords. Although, he was in those pirate movies so it wouldn’t be very fair. OK, let’s just say we get drunk and MAYBE have a pee sword fight. The point I’m clearly making is that this guy dresses like he was part of some childhood game where the participants are blindfolded and race to see how many articles of clothing they can put on before time is up.

I mean what is this guy’s thought process in the morning? “OK, let’s see here… two pairs of jeans, socks on my hands, a leather belt and car keys around my neck, a diaper, five shirts, peanut butter in my hair, tampons in my ears and finally I think I will top it all off with the kind of hat computer programmers wear on game night. Done and done!”

I accidentally got drunk last night. I didn’t mean to and now I feel like Guy Fieri’s butthole.

I wanted to write about the fucking annoying old lady in the Resolve Bright and White commercial but I can’t find a clip. Shouldn’t everything be on the internet by now?

So please accept my deepest apologies and then shut up and watch this. I know it’s not new but it’s awesome (like me).

“Oh my god, you’re my totally fuckin’ like favorite.”

OK, here’s the situation, my parents went away on a week’s vacation and they left the keys to the brand new Porsche.

Sorry, those are the lyrics to Parents Just Don’t Understand. OK, here’s the REAL situation… I went out to dinner tonight, had a great time, drank some wine and now I don’t feel like writing about the topic I was planning for today. I would much rather eat beef jerky and watch Lost on the DVR, even though it will cause rage-induced vomiting from the lack of ANYTHING FUCKING HAPPENING! Why do I continue to watch this fucking show???

So, I will leave you with this. This is actual footage of the world ending. A friend (soon to be ex-friend) sent me this today and I felt like ruining your day too. I dare you to watch this all the way through until the end when things really get emotional. Did you ever wonder why Kurt Cobain killed himself?

Hey, here’s a great idea, let’s float around the middle of the ocean trapped in a giant mall with a bunch of shitty assholes. If we really get lucky, we can all catch the same mystery illness from our little white trash ecosystem. Don’t worry too much about catching something though, it rarely happens!

Who wants to do this? What’s fun about floating around on a giant Holiday Inn and stopping for only an hour in various ports where the locals descend on you like the pubic lice you will no doubt catch from your bed sheets? Then, every night you are forced to eat dinner with strangers who just can’t stop talking about how much they enjoy reruns of “Tool Time.” They will be referring to “Home Improvement” but will call it Tool Time even though they literally watch it every day.

You know when people disappear form cruise ships? I promise you they are jumping to their deaths after the third day of listening to yokels babble on and on about how “funky” that Paula Deen is.

There is no amount of money that could convince me to waste my vacation on a cruise.*

*I know, I know… there are cool, smaller cruises that go to places like Alaska. I’m not talking about those. Maybe I am. I don’t know anymore.

Am I the only person who hates the Olympics?

I used to like the Olympics when they held the winter and summer Olympics together every four years. It felt special and important, but now that we are treated to the Olympics every two years it just becomes annoying.

I especially hate the winter Olympics. Nothing sends my balls further into my body than god damn motherfucking figure skating! If I want to see men in tight pants manhandle Eastern European women wearing too much eye makeup, I would watch my own fantasies. I love it when the ice dancers get all “wacky” and do something silly and whimsical. OH BOY DO I LOVE ME SOME WHIMSY!

Let’s all hop in our time machines and take a trip back to 1990, when Microsoft released the exciting Windows 3.0 and C+C Music Factory was raping your ears with “Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now).”

The people of Gary welcome you. They welcome you with their Flaming Hot Cheeto-filled shit!

I fucking HATE Indiana. If you are from Indiana, I am sorry… I am sorry you are from Indiana!

Indiana’s official state motto is “The Crossroads of America.” In other words, “Nothing to see here, just keep on driving to your more awesome destination.” I am willing to declare that there is nothing worthwhile in the entire state. Not a single thing! I have never driven through Indiana without contemplating suicide the entire painful ride. The only thing that stops me from driving head-on into an oncoming 18-wheeler is the fear that my corpse would be fed to raccoons by the local authorities.

I guess if you like factories that look like they are from the dreams of a German child locked in an iron lung circa 1929, or endless cornfields broken up by shitty towns with the same 10 fast food chains, then Indiana is your kind of place. I know what you’re thinking, other states fit that description, but the difference is they ALSO have at least one reason to visit. Indiana is just unpleasant from border to border. It achieves a level of suckdom that no other state I have visited comes close to. Don’t try to tell me Indianapolis or the dunes are enough to save it. Indianapolis sucks gorilla scrotum and the dunes are surrounded by the rest of Indiana, so they lose too.

I hate Indiana.