First of all, let’s put an end to the rumor that Megan Fox is SOOOOOO HOT! Megan Fox is pretty, at best. I honestly would not give her a second look if I saw her on the street. Well I might do a double take if I caught a glimpse of those fucking disgusting, stubby toe thumbs. To compare them to toes is actually an insult to toes. I am sorry toes. What the fuck is wrong with her thumbs? If I saw that hand making its way towards my boner I would immediately start making excuses about how I had to get up early because I’m going to prison for murder and I don’t want to be late on my first day.
Forget the thumbs for a second, which I understand is not easy to do, have you heard this dolt speak? She is shockingly dumb. If I were to compare her intelligence and charm to a popular band, I would have to say she is somewhere between The Insane Clown Posse and Creed. Oh, and she’s had sex with “David Silver!” I’m sorry, but any woman who would allow Brian Austin Green’s boner within 10 feet of her body is automatically an idiot.
I managed to use the word “boner” twice in one post. My work here is done, I quit.
Has it really come to this? Motion detector air fresheners? Can I just put ALL air fresheners on my list so I can die in peace?
Imagine being so bored with life that you are willing to load two batteries and a scent cartridge into some ugly, plastic piece of shit just so your crappy house smells less like actual crap and more like artificial crap. The only problem is that all an air freshener really does is add the smell of a whore to the smell of the rotting food in your kitchen. Here’s an idea, spend more time cleaning your fucking house and maybe you wouldn’t need NASA-designed air fresheners to mask the smell of failure that hangs in your home.
Think of all the energy, chemicals and waste that go into making these dumb contraptions. You want your house to smell like “fresh linens?” WASH YOUR SHEETS you turd.
As much as I hate Glade Sense and Spray, nothing will ever be more idiotic than Scent Stories.
“Hey everyone, look at me, my bike is different and I love NPR.”
Oh brother. I just rolled my eyes so hard that I lost my balance and fell off my chair. Speaking of chairs and balance, I sure do hate recumbent bikes. What’s it going to be? Are you going for a bike ride or are you relaxing in your favorite chair? Take your pick, because you look like a douche-sack when you do both simultaneously.
We get it, you love world music, you aren’t afraid to eat Ethiopian food, you mow your yard with one of those old timey push mowers and nothing gives you a bigger boner than listening to Garrison Keillor on your iPod while riding around on your wacky bike.
I use the Johnny Cash formula to decide if something is cool or not. Anyone can use this proven method, it’s easy. For example, would Johnny Cash have ridden a motorcycle? Yes, ergo motorcycles are cool. Would Johnny Cash wash a handful of pills down with a beer? Yes, therefore abusing prescription medicine and alcohol is cool. Now, would Johnny Cash cruise around Connecticut on some asswipe recumbent bike? Fuck no!
I am in such a rage spiral right now I can’t even think of a way to make this funny. After watching these two clips of the Tyra Banks audience literally shitting their XXL panties and giving themselves spontaneous miscarriages over the fact that Tyra is showing them her “real” hair, I am now going to pray to God to take me while I sleep tonight. Please God, kill me. No, don’t just kill me, make me explode or burst into flames! In your name I pray.
There is no way I am the same species as these cackling twats. These fuckers make the Oprah audience look like Buddhist monks! How did this happen? How did we become so stupid? Were people always this vapid and I’m just noticing now because of the internet?
If I ever catch my child participating in anything that remotely resembles parkour or “free running” I am going straight to the nearest antique tool dealer, buying the largest, rustiest pre-civil war saw they own, driving back home and cutting his feet off. I’m serious, if I so much as see that kid walking on a curb or staring at a wall longingly, he can kiss those tootsies goodbye. Sure, he will complain about how “mean” I am blah blah blah, but what kid doesn’t bitch and moan about their parents? He will thank me later when he’s watching all those douchebags jumping around and falling on their faces, safely from the comfort of his wheelchair. He will look down at his gnarled stumps and think “Thank the good Lord above that I’m not wasting my time on this shit.” He will roll off into the setting sun to the sound of zitty teen faces slamming against the pavement and whisper “Thank you dad.”
Thanks to Jonathan for tipping me off to this Parkour scene from The Office!
If you are anything like me, these parkour accidents will give you a boner.
If you are anyone other than a suburban mom over the age of 50 and you own a PT Cruiser, it’s time to figure out exactly where it all went wrong. Loosen your novelty tie and take a moment to really think about your life.
On a side note… I’m up to my sunglasses (which I wear on the back of my neck in an attempt to be as money as Guy Fieri) in shit to do this week and have decided to neglect my website for a couple days. I realize this will ruin your life but I will be back in a couple days with my important opinions.
Speaking of cars… My friend (yes I have friends) sent me this link to some awesome photos of people driving.
Sure, people look at me and say, “Steve, you are obviously the most awesome and cool guy in the IT dept, we all know this. But Steve, are you also fun? Do you cut loose on the weekends and have your gamer buddies over for some ice-cold Mountain Dews and a 5 hour Monty Python marathon on VHS?”
Well sir, might I direct your attention south about 18 inches? Yeah that’s right dummy, your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you, that really IS Darth Vader on my tie!!! I know, right? I just blew your mind didn’t I? No seriously, I swear it’s a real neck tie. Go ahead, touch it.
What’s that? Where did I get this hilariously rebellious accessory? No no no, I think not young Skywalker, not ready are you. Wacky tie culture is not something you just jump into blindly.
That’s right corporate world, you will never stifle my joyous nature!
We get it, you’re awesome, you can eat a giant cheeseburger in front of a crowd of none. You have certainly earned the right to have your Polaroid up on the wall of sadness, next to the rest of the fat underachievers. What’s wrong, mommy and daddy didn’t buy you that BMX bike you always wanted? Were you stuck riding that girlie, yellow Schwinn Stingray to school while the rest of your friends had kickass, diamond frame dirt bikes? Did you try to camouflage your gay bike to look more BMX with a new seat, pads and a racing number? Did you NEVER get that BMX bike even though your parents could have totally afforded it because your dad was an international banker and your mom worked part-time in a gourmet cooking store and you lived in a nice middle-class home in a nice community? Are you now almost 40 years old but you toy with the idea of buying a diamond frame BMX bike just so you can ride it to your dad’s condo in Miami where you will pedal in circles on the sidewalk screaming “How you like me now old man? Look at your little BMXer now Daddy!”
