You just made my list!

Did you realize you have been wasting your time with toilet paper for over 100 years you big fucking moron? Finally some genius came to his senses and realized there is a much better way to clean our shitty buttholes!

It’s so simple… just keep your poo stick near the toilet. After you explode a load of crap into the bowl, simply take a wad of toilet paper and insert it into your poo stick, reach behind your back, locate your shit-covered bunghole, jam the stick up there and pull it back up behind you with extra care so as not to smear shit all over your back and hair. Almost done… next just carefully stand up and turn around without letting your poopie ass touch anything and eject the soiled paper into the bowl. Just a few more steps… sit back down, grab another handful of toilet paper and DELICATELY insert it into your poo stick because it will now be covered in feces. Reach back behind you without letting your shit-covered poo stick touch ANYTHING on the way down and jam it back up into that brown mess. Stand, eject and repeat as needed. Once your barking spider is finally clean you are going to want to flush the toilet and clean off any feces that you may have accidentally smeared on your back, legs, hands, hair, clothes, towels and/or walls. All you have to do next is wash your crap-encrusted poo stick in the bath tub and put it back near the toilet. Simply clean your bath tub with bleach and that’s it. SIMPLE! As promised, your dignity is intact.

It really is the modern solution. I mean using toilet paper these days is about as smart as still using AOL for your email!

The Comfort Wipe poo stick is for anyone who poops… uptight blonde MILFs, uncles with bad shoulders, old ladies with mysterious accents and even big guys. That’s right, I said big guys! There are many disadvantages to being a big guy but one of the countless advantages is that you have the opportunity to be so fat that you need to wipe your big wet butthole with a stick. Lucky!

You know Comfort Wipe is going to work, I mean look at that perfectly clean white butthole right in their logo!

What the hell is on this sandwich you just gave me? Is that mayo? You just fucked up bro… big time! Now stand back while I kill this sandwich with my gun that shoots Miracle Whip bottles!

Guess what hipsters, the Hells Angels are here to take your precious Miracle Whip out of your tiny hands and fucking stick ’em on the back of our motorcycles while we crisscross the country committing crimes and fucking shit up! That’s right, dude on the moped, just a few months ago you would have been considered hip and eccentric enough to eat Miracle Whip but not anymore you fucking dork, the bikers have reclaimed Miracle Whip.

Oh, and another thing bitch, we don’t have time to say “Miracle Whip” so hence forth this shit is gonna be fucking called “MW” and if you have a problem with it take it up with the complaint department (pointing to my crotch).

Holy shit, there’s nothing I love more than getting jacked on Jack Daniels and MW and punching some old lady in the fucking face. One time this fucking pig pulled me over on my way to Sturgis and was like “Hey you, your plates are expired.” I was like “My plates are expired? MY PLATES ARE EXPIRED?!?” and I threw a handful of MW in his pig face and was like “Now whose plates are expired motherfucker?”

One night me and my old lady stole an El Camino, robbed a liquor store, did a shitload of coke, got MW tattoos and banged in the porta-toilet at a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert. Is that REAL enough for you, mayonnaise? That’s what I thought.

LET’S RIDE!

If you are like me, you have often wondered what to do if attacked by cowboy boots filled with meat!

Even though the current sword fighting fad is mostly driven by hipsters who have grown bored of their fixed gear bikes and mustaches, one can no longer leave the house unprepared. Just yesterday I was challenged to a sword fight on my way to the post office and, like a fool, I was standing there without any weapon other than my messenger bag which I was forced to throw at the swordsman like an old lady throwing her purse! I immediately came home and web surfed the world wide web for “best swords stab slice crush awesome dungeon overweight” and found this. Perfect!

Have you ever gone to a wedding and thought, “This reception is beautiful. The room is lovely, the flowers are spectacular, the china is immaculate but there is no fucking way I’m sitting on that chair without first covering it with a giant garbage bag! I don’t give a shit if the bride and groom take offense to it, I REFUSE to sit on that chair without putting a giant condom on it first.”

Well guess what psycho? You are in luck thanks to the ridiculous NewSeat!

NewSeat is a single-use chair cover for people who want to tell the world “I’m here. I’m crazy. Get used to it.” You think I’m kidding about the wedding scenario? According to NewSeat.com a wedding is just one of the perfectly normal places to use their chair cover. You can also look normal while using your NewSeat at seminars, conferences and “live stage performances.” Nothing makes you look more normal at a business seminar than refusing to let your fully clothed body touch a chair.

You may not know this but chair-related deaths are up 300% since 2005. I’m sure we all know someone who is battling an illness picked up from sitting on a chair. Just last week I participated in “Sit for a Cure” and I can only assume many of you did as well. GOD DAMN YOU CHAIRS! Sorry, I just get really emotional because in the last two years I have lost three family members to chair illnesses.

Another suggested use for the NewSeat is on an airplane. Hey great idea! I always found airplane seats to be a little too comfortable and often thought my six hour plane ride could be made better if I was sitting on an impervious sheet of plastic.

If there’s one thing I know about teenagers it’s that they LOVE to stand out and look different from their friends. They NEVER want to simply blend in and look like each other. Luckily for them NewSeat works for kids too! I can’t think of a single better way to get in with the popular crowd than to cover your chair at the movie theater with a tarp before sitting in it. When the other teens see you setting up for a hazardous material spill before watching Hot Tub Time Machine they will surely make a mental note to put YOUR name down for prom queen.

While the rest of the world cries and moans about “going green,” NewSeat has the balls to say “Fuck you environment, I’m covering every chair I sit on with a giant piece of plastic and then I’m just going to fucking leave it there when I’m done. What are you going do about it? Nothing, just like I thought.”

The next time you go to a movie theater built in 1910, bring a NewSeat!

Whatever! Like, I’m totally not sitting on that chair, it’s like gross-out city to the max. LOL. LMAO. BFF. WTF?

Fuck me.

Spring is in the air which can only mean one thing… Six Flags will be entering your soul, Freddy Krueger style, while you sleep and filling your mind with nightmarish dancing bald things in tuxedos, all set to a torturous soundtrack of pumping Vengaboys music. Welcome to hell.

Why is Six Flags trying to get me to commit suicide? First they tried to break my spirit with Mr. Six, followed by the yelling mad Asian guy. When I came out of that experiment alive they instructed that dancing penis to talk! I somehow made it through that summer without chopping my own head off but I’m not so sure I can make it to June thanks to the introduction of Mr. Six’s baby(?) “Little Six.” What the fucking fuck is going on?!? I feel like I’m watching an incredibly well-dressed kid with Progeria have a seizure.

And kudos to their ad agency for getting right on that Austin Powers/Mini Me craze (of 1999)! Top notch work.

Take me now lord, I’m begging you!

Why am I the last person on Earth who can do anything that requires the skill set of the average kindergarten student? How is it that I manage to close and seal a sandwich baggie without the aid of color-coded plastic OR special sounds gently encouraging me and reminding me that I’m doing it right?

The latest sandwich bag technology, “Smart Zip,” comes to us from the genius bag scientists at Ziploc. That’s right idiot, your baggie now comes with sound! As you run your greasy unemployed fingers across your bag of weed it says things like, “You can do it! Good for you, you’re closing the baggie. Don’t give up now, you can do it! Almost there… YAY you did it, high five!” Before you know it, you’ve actually closed a Ziploc bag all by yourself! Next on the agenda, tying your shoes.

Imagine the hellish life of the poor assholes who work in the windowless labs at Ziploc, desperately trying to invent new bag “technology” so they don’t get fired and have their Sea-Doo personal watercrafts taken away. Those Dave Matthews tickets aren’t going to pay for themselves!

“How was your day honey?”

“NOT NOW Carol, I just need a drink. Who the hell drank all the T.G.I. Friday’s Mudslides? Damn it Carol I just made those last freakin’ night. I’ll be in the garage sitting on the Sea-Doo.”

Just when you thought the “singing bass” phenomenon of 1998 that swept its way through every trailer park in America had finally gone away.

Recently I received a Bed Bath & Beyond catalog in the mail proudly selling this HILARIOUS singing fish and the ad read “From the hit McDonald’s Commercial.” I can already hear Michael Ian Black’s snarky comments about this “hit commercial” on I Love The 2010s.

But why go all the way to Bed Bath & Beyond when you can pick this gem up at the local drug store during your weekly visit for Slim Jims, diarrhea medicine and cigarettes?

Please explain to me why a fish would be irate that someone stole his fish sandwich. Why the fuck is a fish eating a fish sandwich in the first place? Or is the Filet-O-Fish he is lamenting over actually one of his family members who could not escape McDonald’s fishing boats? Is this actually a tragic song sung by a grieving fish fighting to retrieve the corpse of his dead mother? Is the real tragedy that this poor fish is desperately appealing to any shred of humanity left in our souls to help with his quest to give his mother a proper burial but all we do is laugh and sing along like a bunch of masturbating monkeys? And most importantly, what could this “bonus track” possibly be? AND most importantly-er, why do I ever leave the house?

At least this fish lip-syncs better those Celtic Thunder dick heads.

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!