Joey Greco’s team of “Cheaters” cockblockers make Chris Hansen look like fucking Cupid!
Look pal, I just want to drive over to my mistress’ generic condo, buy her some drinks at the local douchebag bar, maybe take a quick ride on the mechanical bull and then it’s back to my van for a sloppy B job. If you don’t mind Joey, I would like to do all of this without you and your fancy spy cameras digitally zooming into my face and identifying me with the latest face-recognition technology from NASA. Now kindly get your lip pubes and your mysterious good looks out of my face, I need to go pick up some hard lemonade, a 3-pack of condoms and a chocolate rose before meeting my lady friend in the Olive Garden parking lot. Don’t make me expose the skeletons in your closet, “Joey.”
Yeah, I know I have already written about mega-fuckface Criss Angel, but I don’t have time to write anything good tonight and he’s fresh on my mind thanks to several commercials running during Dog the Bounty Hunter. I’m not sure why I just watched 3 episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter. I am ashamed. Technically, I’m listening to it while I work. Man, that guy’s wife has some ridiculously huge tits. The Dog family appears to love mullets and Jesus in equal parts. I think I will paint a portrait of Jesus with a mullet and a bunch of dreamcatchers in his hair, and send it to Dog. He will shit his leather pants!
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Crissy. I almost hate Criss Angel as much as Guy Fieri, but at least Criss knows how to wear sunglasses on the front of his god damn motherfucking face. Can someone tell me why Criss Angel is always pointing at me? Keep your filthy finger up Carrot Top’s ass and out of my face, you piece of shit. It must take so much effort making sure you have enough “Thunderdome” outfits to last every day of the week.
Back to Dog the Bounty Hunter for a second… Apparently every person who lives in Hawaii is a major drug addict. Why do all these dirt bags get to live in paradise while I dick around in the stupid Midwest? Why do I do everything wrong?
Fuck you Jill, fuck you Kevin and fuck you anyone who has emailed this video with a little note that says “OMG this is awesome! Hilarious, a MUST SEE!”
There are a lot of things about this video that offend me, but the thing that REALLY makes me insane is the fact that this wacky dancing wedding shit is OLD NEWS! Jill and Kevin are way at the end of a long list of douchebags who worked up some lame wedding dance in an attempt to find internet fame. Why is everyone acting like Kevin and his whore bride Jill have invented something new? Yeah, Jill is a whore by the way.
At least the shitheads who did the Thriller dance at their wedding a few years ago put some effort into it. Jill, Kevin and their fat-fuck friends thought it was good enough to put on sunglasses and randomly convulse their way down the aisle. Oh, the fucking sunglasses make me so fucking mad. The kind of people who think a pair of sunglasses paired with a suit make you look “cool” are the same tools who slap on a Hawaiian shirt (tucked into khaki shorts of course) and a plastic lei before heading to the Jimmy Buffet concert. You see, the Hawaiian shirt conveys a general fondness for the beach party lifestyle while the plastic lei says “Hey bro, I own over 15 CDs and close to 30 MP3s so obviously I know how to party!”
The other thing that really perplexes me about Jill (the whore) and Kevin is that they chose to use a Chris Brown song in their wedding ceremony. I think Chris Brown best summed up what it means to be in love when he said, “Bitch, I love beatin’ yo ass! Now git da fuck outta my car, bitch! Yeah, I know it’s still moving you stupid fucking ho, now jump out dat window before I punch some mo love into yo teeth!”
Can everyone PLEASE stop trying to make their weddings into an internet sensation? Here’s a wacky idea, concentrate on what it means to be getting married and stop trying to be the next big thing on youtube. Is there anyone left on the planet who does not want to be famous or a public spectacle?
I hope Jill and Kevin (the whore’s husband) are eaten by a shark on their honeymoon. I hope their plane crashes into the mouth of a shark. I hope their plane crashes into the mouth of a shark and on the way down Jill cheats on Kevin with the guy sitting next to them. I hope that she gets pregnant during this quick fling and gets an abortion right there on the plane in front of Kevin and her new lover. I hope the guy who impregnates Jill on Kevin’s lap has swine flu. I hope the shark that eats Jill, Kevin, Jill’s aborted fetus, Jill’s lover, and the plane has AIDS.
In case you can’t see where Calvin has decided to aim his pee this time, it says “Bin Laden.” That little scamp just loves to piss on things!
I’m sure this turd likes to fancy himself as a classic American tough guy, but is wishing that a toddler would urinate on a the man who masterminded the biggest terrorist attack on American soil all that hardcore? Is that the best you’ve got?
OK Osama, this child has clearly emptied his bladder on you while maintaining his trademark devil-may-care attitude, what do you have to say for yourself? Do you promise to stop blowing things up? Don’t make me sic Dennis the Menace on your ass! I will NOT HESITATE to bounce a basketball off your forehead, just try me!
Not to mention, Bin Laden is soooooo 2001. He could barely even make it onto TMZ at this point. It’s a all about Heidi and Spencer now. HELLOOOOOOOOOO!
Does it make me a jerk who hates everything for despising these people or does it make me awesome? I’m assuming it’s the latter, in fact I’m sure of it.
These are the kind of people who travel all the way to New York from Crooked Boner, Tennessee only to spend their entire week in a 2 block radius surrounding Times Square. They pack sign-making supplies because they ain’t paying no New York prices and who knows if there even is a Wal-Mart in Manhattan! They eat at Chili’s every night and swear it tastes not as good as Chili’s in Crooked Boner but better than the Chili’s in Sickly Hollow.
The worst part is that they get up around 4am, when most New Yorkers are just eating dinner, just so they can stand on the street in the rain with the hopes that the camera might whiz past their “Sassy Moms Love Matt” sign for 2 seconds. Luckily the good ol’ VCR is rolling back home to capture the magic!
Yeah, that’s right, one more night of painting the kitchen and not sharing my beautiful complaints with the world. I’ll be back tomorrow, promise.
I would like to point out that today I saw about 5 seconds of Guy Fieri’s piece of shit cooking show and in that small time he actually said “The name for this is too long, I’ll just call it MONEY.” I guarantee he jerks off to the movie “Swingers” at least once a week. God damn it, I hate that cockhole so much! (I can’t believe “cockhole” is not recognized by spell check)
So God bless America and God bless the children. Take it away Tyler Busby! (Make sure you also watch little Aaron Koehne make that Casio his bitch at the 6:30 mark)
Stop the madness! Just get married without trying to prove to everyone that you are “the most funnest, kickass couple in Terre Haute, Indiana and all of the surrounding Wabash Valley!” Stop trying to be the last story on the local news. The last story on the news is reserved for important stories, like the various activities of kittens and the kooky places they get stuck.
Is it wrong that 1% of me wants to see one of these “weddings” end in tragedy? That seems wrong. Maybe not tragedy, but is it too much to ask for a couple of broken legs that totally ruin their Six Flags honeymoon? I bet if you broke both legs during your skydive wedding, the local news would do the story before the sports.
I’m going to be extremely lazy (and lame) and re-post my 4th of July entry from last year. Why? 50% laziness and 50% because when I originally wrote this I had much less readers and I don’t want a single drop of my awesome thoughts to go to waste. So have a great holiday weekend and try to not blow your stupid fingers off with fireworks. Also, don’t be a total piece of shit and drive drunk. Wait, that sort of sounds like I’m implying if you DON’T drive drunk then you are a piece of shit. Just don’t drive drunk you dick.
Nothing shows lady America that you love her like wrapping your smelly pubes in her flag! Thanks for the freedom, now kiss my taint.
Am I wrong to assume that most people who actually walk around in American flag clothing are strongly against the desecration of old glory? Yet these same super-patriots don’t think twice about ripping apart the very flag they claim to hold so dear and jamming their fat, sweaty body parts into it. I think the flag would rather die a quick death from burning than spend the next 15 years pressed against your wiener.
I fully understand what the flag stands for and why people love and respect it. My grandfather fought in WWII and I can remember how upset it would make him to see the flag touch the ground, even if it was a small child letting his tiny flag touch the ground while scrambling for candy at a 4th of July parade. Not angry upset but more like the emotion you would feel if you saw someone accidentally knock your grandmother over and keep walking. It was genuinely heartbreaking to him.
The flag meant something VERY real to him and he was willing to die for it. I wonder how many people would be willing to die for their American flag flip flops? Isn’t it the same thing? What makes one object covered in stars and stripes different from the next? If some dirty hippie can’t burn the flag why can you literally get shit and piss on it while you walk around the state fair? Are you starting to see how smart I am yet? Did you notice my last 5 sentences ended with question marks? Does that make me a bad writer? Probably.
Nothing shows lady America that you love her like wrapping your smelly pubes in her flag! Thanks for the freedom, now kiss my taint.
