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!
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?
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.
Lucky you, today you get to hear me complain about two things that suck.
1) The Apple store!
Let me first say that I love Apple products. However, I’m not a blind “fanboy,” rather I love Macs because they FUCKING WORK and as a graphic designer there is no substitute. Unfortunately I have had to spend a lot of time in the Apple store this week due to the cockless anus face who stole my computer. Have you been in an Apple store recently? They are bucking the system by eliminating any form of check out counter. Instead, each hip t-shirt-wearing employee has the ability to complete your purchase right there where they are standing in their skinny jeans. This may look cool, but it means the end of waiting in a orderly line to be served. The only way, literally, to be served in an Apple store is to stand in the middle of the floor with a confused look, like a sad puppy begging for a Snausage. It makes you feel like a whore standing on a street corner trying to out-whore the other whores.
2) Threadless iPhone cases!
If you have any doubt as to why I FUCKING HATE Threadless, please watch this video and it will all be clear. These fucking assholes at Griffin Technology and Threadless are acting like they cured cancer when they accidentally mixed their cure for A.I.D.S. with their cure for multiple sclerosis. Mark McGlon (never has a last name so perfectly described a lumpy tub of crap) practically has tears in his fat eyes as he describes the printing of doodles on plastic iPhone cases as “brilliant.” Brilliant? BRILLIANT?!? And if you ever wanted to see inside the empty mind of a Threadless design winner (and Threadless employee… hmmmmm), please watch douchebag hipster nerd Joe Van Wetering describe the BRILLIANT design process behind his doodles. Please get your gentle voice and Hitler hair out of my dreams and into my car, where I will drive you to a warehouse and force you to makeout with a girl.
Look at me! Look at me! I am desperate to be noticed! MY ONLY GOAL IN LIFE IS TO BE ON THE NEWS! I’m swimming in the winter, can you believe how crazy I am? Love me. WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME DADDY?!?
These are the same kind of attention hogs that ride around on tall bikes, propose marriage in wacky ways and get married in some bullshit underwater wedding. You may think I am simply against fun. You are an idiot. I like fun, but swimming in a frozen lake in the middle of winter and having your cock and balls retreat into your body, never to be seen again, is literally the exact opposite of fun.
Guess what? POLAR BEARS don’t even want to swim around in some godforsaken frozen ocean for 6 hours looking for some dumb fish to eat. It is a well documented fact that the suicide rate among polar bears is the second highest in the animal kingdom. Obviously the number one slot goes to Guy Fieri’s tapeworms.
I guess we are supposed to find it charming that they spent $150,000 on this shit hole but it has the opposite effect on me. I want them to die. I don’t find anything cute about people who use their kitchen cabinets to store their clothes. I hate their 3′ wide bathroom and I feel sorry for their cats. Not because they also have to live in such a tiny space, rather I feel bad that the cats have nowhere to hide while these creepy douchebags have creepy douchebag sex in their creepy serial killer apartment.
I think this story is supposed to make me think Manhattan is wacky and unique, but it just makes me think Manhattan is absurd.
You know how I know your band sucks? Because you took your band photo on the railroad tracks.
Sure, you tried staring right at the camera with that “What, I don’t fucking care about this stupid photo” look. When that failed you looked away from the camera and off into the distance with that “What, I don’t fucking care about this stupid photo” look, but that made you look like you cared even more. Damn it!
My advice for your band photo? Take a photo of your shit band selling your shit equipment to a pawn shop, then photograph yourself applying for a job at Circuit City. Then a few photos of you realizing Circuit City has been out of business for a year and you just applied for a job at a vacant building. You idiot.
