sXe

No you perverts, if i wanted to talk about deep-dicking i would have said SE_X. this is a different topic altogether. i am not sure how popular this movement was. it could be a southern thing, it could be a stubborn small town thing, or it may have been all over the country in every hometown in america. but does anyone remember the straight edge hardcore kids from high school?


Usually the straight edge kids had a sharpie written X on their hands with an S and E on each side of the cross. they had one mantra: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. if i didnt have these three vices i would be the most boring mother fucker on the planet. they prided themselves on not having to get fucked up to have a good time. i bet the straight edged kids were 'those guys' in college whose first frat party experience included funneling, jager bombs, and the kneel over a bowl stare at superchunk move.

one time in high school this kid justin singer threw a party. (my place was the main spot, mainly because my parents contributed to delinquency of minors) but sometimes singer's parents would go out of town and he threw a bash. lickher, brews, swimming pool out back, bbq, the best way to really have a sick time is to have a sick (parents) pad. it was philly's bday and i was trashed. schnookered. fubar. my plan was to try and find some punan or just pass out on the floor with my hand down my pants, whichever was easier to attain. the straight edge hardcore kids showed up to singers party but instead of going inside, they just waited across the street and called the cops on us. when the cops arrived, people took several courses of action. akin and shanahan hopped over a barb wire fence out back and hid in the trees somewhere. people without cars booked it to lime kiln lane trying to get away. what did shoobie (doobie) do? he sat at the table giggling at all the pretty badges in his face. as the cops raided the house, one guy came to the room i was in and shone his flashlight into each persons eyes, one at a time. when he got to me, he put it down and asked 'who is taking this kid home' to which i replied 'fuck that i am passing out here tonight' to which he said 'what, meow?' to which my buddy stu katz said 'i am taking him home, dont worry he isnt driving'. when we got outside several of the drunk leavers noticed a bunch of shit talking straight edge kids across the street. of course punches were thrown around and the cops had to break up another brawl. and this leads us to the question: why did sXe have such a good time watching other peoples good times get ruined?

i assume it stems from alcohol abusive parents whose method of discipline was making the kid choose between a 4x4, a bamboo shoot, or an electrical cord with the toaster attached. maybe it was years of repressing sexual tension for not being able to get any poon. perhaps it was their deep roots of the Crusades and taking drastic measures for no logical reason whatsoever.

who knows. i just wanted everyone to remember the sXe movement in case your plan in life is to one day make a 'hit list' ala billy madison... be sure to include a straight edge hardcore kid from your school.

Public Service Announcement

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This is a Pubic Service Announcement
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America, are YOU sick of SHITTY POOPSTICK movies?
then STOP paying $6-$12 to go see the worst fucking movie in the country.

I unknowingly went to see this DISNEY PG-rated flick and found myself sobbing tears of disdain and cutting my wrists with the sharp end of the goobers box by night's end. the previews make this movie look like a david baldacci novel. action packed, special effiz, good plot. it even had the flying doves signifying the bruckheimer involvement. i think there is more eventful entertainment the 5th time around on the 'its a small world' ride. this movie is so bad its not even worth netflixing.
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In other news, meow, i will be blogging again this week. i was shooting blanks for awhile and needed the thanksgiving off. thanks to all my inspiring niggas out there. i couldnt have done it without you. and of course much love to jeebus christ.

When I think of jesus, i think of pooping. spray poop. with green and brown mixed in.

Happy Ending

blowing up someone's blog*spot - (adv.) - The act of calling out a friend in a previously agreed upon private matter, usually through the outlet of the very public internet.

I play poker every sunday and wednesday at this sweet spot off ponce, a mile from my house. no limit texas hold em, $100-250 buy in, me and jonny are usually both vicktorious. on my way out the door last night, a buddy there told me a crazy story. in order to keep partial anonymo, we will call the russian guy sergé and the other kid bellend.

The following story is how i heard it. Sergé called up bellend one day and asked if he wanted to go out to cheshire to get a massage at the 'massage parlors' out there. these guys are making some good money on the poker game, so blowing a hundro on a massage seemed reasonable. bellend had never been and his muscles were really in need of a good 'massage'.

So they get to the place and it costs $60 to get the full massage treatment. first up, 30 minutes in the sauna. you get a towel, just relax, soak up some steam, get your shit together for the next round. after the steam room, a hot asian chick brings you into the next room: the shower room. In the shower room, the asian lady takes off your towel, gets in there with you, and scrubs your entire body down. hair, stomach, nips, balls, purple star, everything. she even uses a loofa... then she towel dries you completely. next comes the massage. apparently the good thing about the massage room is that it has black lights, so you know there isnt some nasty splooge all over the place. she works out everything. arms. body. she even tickles your balls while she is down by your legs. (bonus!) of course after the massage is over, the infamous massage parlor question comes out.

i have always wondered what the people prompt you with, and how they tell you the options. apparently at this place they ask: do you want more? the options are hand, oral, or all the way live. i dont know about the rest of you but i think the most i would do would be hand. mouth could be a burner. and the mystery of the orient is not worth the 200 bucks youd have to pay. the key to getting a handjob from the massage people is to only bring 45 bucks. when they say its 60, you just tell them its all you have. apparently Sergé does this everytime he goes, which is way more than any man should go. so my man bellend opts for the 45 dollar hand treatment and says it was definitely worth it. i would have probably blown it in the shower AND the massage table, but some men just have more resilience than others. and that my friends, is the story of the happy ending.

Lunchlady Land

This blog was prompted by: Tonight on Channel 2, the I-Team goes into local georgia schools to investigate how healthy school lunches are for your children.

Damn, it took them this long to investigate?

I remember my first exposure to school lunches. I was in 1st grade at wilder elementary. Apparently no one told me about this crazy concept of buying/selling goods based on certain rates in the economy. chocolate milk cost 25 cents and i really wanted one badly. i get to the lady at the end of the row and she asks for my money. i begin to cry because mom had sent me in there with a brown bag lunch and no money for the milk. (crying over a quarter! ha!) so ms harkelroad bailed me out of that one and hooked me up with a loan. phew, i was saved.


here we see little Lupe pounding a carton of DairyPak white russian
i pretty much packed my own lunch all through elementary, middle, and high school. krogers subs. bag o pretzels. bag o cookies. fruit. maybe a veggie. ahh those were the days. around my 7th grade year, the public school system teamed up with the YUM corporation to bring school children more options.... pizza hut, taco bell, and KFC were all included on the traditional list of mystery meat, pineapple cup, instant potato, sloppy joe, mac and cheese, and corndogs. mmmm, corndogs.


what genius was behind this glorious invention: meat on a stick
Now you could have mom slip you 5 bucks and not have to worry about packing a lunch. all the healthy food you could dream of was readily available at all jefferson county schools. bean burrito. chicken enchilada. 10 wings w/hot, medium, or mild, personal pan pizza. cinnatwists. the options were endless and the food was outstanding!

When I left high school i figured lunchladys were a thing of the past. No longer would i have to wait in line to be fed a piece of lasagna with more filler than actual meat, side of drenched in goop corn, or fish sticks and retartar sauce. but even at emory, lunchladys filled cox and duc cafeterias with their crossed eyes and hairnets. there was even a guy named pasta john. by day, he was the friendliest lunchlady man to ever walk the streets. by night, he was a raving alcoholic who showed up to our frat party so wasted that he split his forehead on the concrete and we couldnt call the EMTs because he would subsequently be fired for coercing us to scream his name while he pounded a 40 of colt 45. Pasta John! Pasta John!


Even in the .gov, we have about 15 fully bloggable lunchladys in our cafeteria. they use big words like sugar and darling to address me. they make the meanest turkey/roast beef/salami sub i have ever feasted on in a cafeteria. they even addressed employee concerns and remodeled the entire cafeteria during my tenure here. (it only took 9 months, S.O.P. for this place)


what a great marketing effort by the lunchladies
as much as i would rather eat at the best restaurant on earth, one cannot ever replace the experience of lunchladys in society. they are our (big black) mothers when our mothers arent there. and now, a little eye candy for all you lunchlady lovers out there!

My 48 Hour Bender

In England, the word bender is associated with homosexual dudes getting freaky with each other's bungholes. In america, the word means (Slang). A spree, especially a drinking spree. now as you all know, i have a 9 to 5er here at the gov, so 48 hour drinking marathons are pretty much out of the question. i would do a 48 hour herbal revitalization treatment, but probably wouldnt be able to function on friday, let alone write a blog. i play poker, but if i played for 48 hours straight i would be rich enough to quit working here. so what 48 hour bender am i referencing here? that would be the greatest addiction of all: Halo 2.

Thats right, I went on a 48 hour video game bender after Tuesday's release of Halo 2. So here is roughly my schedule (and of course the reason i didnt blog at all)

Tuesday November 9
3:45 pm - Get home to find pre-ordered copy of Halo 2 in mailbox. Me and the other millions of nerds out there rip open the packaging and flip through the 'how to' guide. then i started playing campaign mode to test my rusty halo-ing skills. (smoking throughout the bender should be insinuated)
7:00 pm - Remove headset with microphone for nerd shit talking and proceed to Philips Arena to watch the Atlanta Hawks move into prime position as the 0-4 worst-season-record-EVER title contenders. Lebron James has 3 dunks, which are nice, but this NBA game was too vanilla for my liking. i.e. NO fast breaks, only 3 TOTAL 3-pointers were actually made.
10:00 pm - anxiously awaiting my addiction back home, coren takes me and kapil on a CNN tour. the place is empty, apparently there were some people on hand in case Arafat croaked and the free world celebrated his passing by filling the streets with cries of 'Thank Allah, He's Gone' signs.
10:30 pm - Return to lair and sign up for xbox live account. Begin to play nerds from all over the country. 14 year olds dupe their moms into thinking they are asleep, meanwhile they are assassinating my 24 year old ass.
11:00 pm - Dwelly comes over to play in the papasan, and the two of us crush several children into oblivion.

Wednesday November 10
3:00 am - I decide that after many many bowls of sour diesel and kush kush, i have to call it a night. dave, can you please head home so i can get to work tomorrow? thanks bra.
3:05 am - Turn the xbox on for one more game. Lose track of all reality.
7:30 am - an hour left until the alarm for work wakes me up, and i am now at a level 6 on 'every man for himself' ranking mode. god damn i am a huge huge dork. go to mcdonalds breakfast, pound that, write email to boss on blackberry that i will not be able to come in, i am sick, pass out of exhaustion.
5:00 pm - wake up from sleep. instead of working 9am to 5pm, i have now officially slept those hours instead. turn on xbox, play four more hours until the poker game on wednesdays.
9:30 pm - head to poker game. get shelled. i cannot get any good cards, and when you dont get good cards you overplay the shitty ones. it sucks, and i lost 180 (in 7 hours). somewhere in the midst of all this gambling, i find out that Thursday is a federal holiday. Apparently its veterans day. who cares, i am so excited that i dont know what to do with myself.

Thursday November 11
4:30 am - finally finish poker game, they had a 7 man (well, and one hot poker chick lady) tournament at the end so i stuck in for that, she took all my chips. i am too distracted by boobies to be able to play against girls. but instead of going home and just catching up on the ridiculous hours i have kept, i decide that what the hell its a vacation day, i may as well just pull an ALL NIGHTER. but i decide to watch a movie first...ya know, just in case i fall asleep during it at least i will get a few hours of zzzz in before i halo2 all night again. i havent pulled an all nighter since college, and even then i think i did about 6 total. at least 2 of those 6 were due to Halo 1.
8:30 am - the movie was really good, so i unfortunately wanted to watch the whole thing. since i was wide awake, juiced up on caffeine and cigs, for some reason, i decide to phone dwelly and leave a voice mail that i am off work, playing halo 2 all day, he should come over. he gets the voice mail because he is mysteriously awake. somehow the gods have looked kindly upon us, because he is there by 9 am locked and loaded.
2:00 pm - dave leaves, justin is all alone. grab lunch. play a few more hours. decide that in order to re-adjust sleep schedule, i should just stay up until about 9pm and then hit the sack for 11 hours of sleep. katz gets back from out of town work, we watch south park and hit a bowl. then i trickle off to bed where i ACTUALLY FINALLY FALL ASLEEP and dont play halo2 at all last night.
10:00 pm - pass the fuck out.

and now youre caught up on my life..... thats where i have been for 48 hours.

ahhhhahahhhhhh ahhhhhhahahhhhhhhh (theme song)

Mini Kiss

No losers, we're not talking about hershey chocolate. and we're not talking about what katzs mom gave me at the end of last night. we are talking about the craziest, wildest, lip synchiest, fucked up cover band i have ever heard of. Mini KISS!


thats right, this cover band will come to your social function and lip synch to all your favorite classic KISS songs. the only thing funnier than a bunch of midgets is definitely a bunch of midgets dressed up like KISS.


Every monday night football, they do a series called "You Got Sacked!" where someone from the NFL 'punks' another guy from the team. This week, Trent Dilfer from the Seattle Seahawks threw a halloween charity ball starring the mini Kiss phenom. his teammate had a bunch of lawyers come in and threaten to shut down the show. Apparently mini Kiss didnt have any rights to use the name Kiss in their group, or permission to sing their songs on stage for profit. They kept Dilfer on edge for like 30 minutes before it was finally revealed that he was getting set up. If anyone saw this on tv last night, they had to be wondering.... WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT midget-Gene-Simmons THINKING?

The Ugliest Jewish Man on the Planet meets the midget version of the ugliest jewish man on the planet.


Wasnt this fun? Book them for your next suare today! (little man entertainment)

Comedy Central, Crackers, and Licorice

Mondays. fuck 'em. in a strange twist of fate, exactly 24 hours after writing previous blog, jonny boy and i hung out with 3 cool chicas saturday night. i guess thats karma for you, although i am still a 90% jhater. the answers to the game below (which NO ONE played) are B and D. A is so jewish it hurts. C is so fucking hot for a jewish girl. E ditto what i said for C. F, well... you know black chicks love me. she's a jew! whoda thought.

Comedy Central is officially the best channel available today. ooooh, who says that? Food Network, HBO, CNN Headline News, TNT, Telemundo. These stations offer more enriching and quality good ol' amurrican television programming. I understand that sopranos, inside the nfl, six feet under, ali g show are good. but who can resist cartoons and fart jokes?

The Classics
The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
Chappelle's Show
Insomniac
Reno 911
Whose Line Is It Anyway?
Tough Crowd w/ Colin Quinn (its cut, but i still love it)

The Cartoons
Crank Yankers
Duckman
Dilbert
Kid Notorious
South Park
The Critic
Undergrads

The Up And Coming
Wanda Sykes
Drawn Together

A Few Misses
Crossballs
The shitty Gary Busey show
Primetime Glick
MadTV (i'm sorry, i know people enjoy. i hate)

In other news. Note to all drivers out there. The election is officially over. Kaput. We lost, they win. Can we all agree to peel away the ridiculous bumper stickers that we got so worked up over off our cars? this goes for the bushies as well as the demies. the haha i told you so thing is way overplayed.

Digital Underground really encapsulates what life is all about dont they? Listen to the wise words my main man Shock G has to say:
I like to rhyme
I like my beats funky
I'm spunky. I like my oatmeal lumpy.
I'm sick with this, straight gangsta mack
but sometimes I get ridiculous
I'll eat up all your crackers and your licorice

He goes on to hollar at a b-yatch:
hey yo fat girl, c'mere--are ya ticklish?
Yeah, I called ya fat. Look at me, I'm skinny
It never stopped me from gettin' busy
I'm a freak
I like the girls with the boom
I once got busy in a Burger King bathroom

Wow, truly a tight bass line with an astonishing lyrical riff.

Guess the Impostor

Well its november 5, 2004. do any louisvillians remember what they were doing 11 years ago today? ill give you a feeler... seelbach hotel, movie theme, teel, black, silver, absolutely no alcohol, tons of middle school drama, and oh ya... i became a man.
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Next jewish item.... www.jdate.com yes i unfortunately scan through there like its my job looking for just one cool girl who mentions pot or drinking or concerts or something other than generic jdate ad. unfortunately everyone on there is like looking for a sugardaddy or a cookie cutter jewish boy to bring home to momma.

one thing i have noticed is that there are a ton of south african chicks on there from atl. i dont know where these people hang out on the weekends (probably OTP) but they are hands down the hottest ratio of people on the site. also they all smoke buds, which at the present time is more than acceptable :)

***WARNING: I am about to be a shallow but truthful person***
the worst part about jdate is that no one ever ever looks like their picture. here is the jdate equation for truly calculating body types, pretty factor, and ultimately whether its worth the gas money to even meet them.
- If their hobbies include working out/aerobics or physical activity: very active, you can be pretty sure they look like their picture. this is also usually true if they list their weight in the 90-120 range.
- If they do not list their weight, or list their body type as: voluptuous, proportional, average, or medium, it takes slightly more investigating. assume that any picture is their BEST SHOT of their recent lives.
- If there is only a headshot and no body shot, and they list themselves in one of the categories above, dont even expect to meet the same person that is in the picture....it aint happenin.
- If in their 'who would be my match' section they say i'm not gonna lie, looks are important... then they better look exactly like their picture. (and usually do)
- Any girl on there with no picture is not worth the gas money no matter what.

here is the funniest fluke jdate story i have ever read: link

and finally, the last item on our agenda. impostors. there are a ton of jdate impostors out there. now i dont mean they lie about their picture, or what they are into, or fail to mention that they are in therapy for 8 years strong.... what i am referring to is shiksas trying to nail down a jewish guy. this by far is the craziest thing i have ever heard. it can only stem from one of two things. A) they have been around jewish guys their whole lives so it seems natural to go on jdate. or B) their racist ass redneck grandma told them one time that the jews are holding all the keys and their bank accounts are generally more pursueable than any other guy's. i guess i am torn on this issue because on the one hand, what the fuck are they doing on a jewish site? but on the other, they do have blonde hair and nice bodies and are clearly trying to get an in with the jboys... i shouldnt be forced to turn down new talent because they arent jewish, right?

the last part of todays friday blog is a nice little quiz you can all play along with. I have taken 6 candidates from ATL jdate and am asking you, the blogreaders, to guess which ones are impostors (could be more than one-- submit guesses to comments, winner gets a stiff one). if these people ever see this, just ask me to take them down.

WELCOME TO GUESS THE JEWISH IMPOSTOR(S)!!
A.


B.


C.


D.


E.


F.


Answers will be revealed on Monday.

Home Schooled

So i'm not gonna do.... what you all think i'm gonna do.... which is just TOTALLY BLOG SOMETHING CHEESY. but, this lame internet forwarding story is pretty funny. what i want to know is... who the fuck is screening these blind dates for the show?! i mean, yes there are cameras- but this guy could have slammed the door and thrown a big ol' horsecock in her before she knew what hit her.



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Have you ever befriended a person in your neighborhood, at your job, sitting in the next stool at the bar, who was home schooled? perhaps they began by telling you their name and, why they collect little bugs and pin them to the wall, or maybe they told you of stories past where they frolicked in their playpen until they were 16, when little timmy discovered skinemax late night. or how they own 13 cats because they are their only friends. This is my perception of home schooled kids. I have never ever ever met a home schooled person. I guess it has to do with my generally extroverted nature...ya know, the desire to interact with people, not imaginary friends. or maybe because pretty much fucking everyone goes to an actual school.

Why do home schooled kids get this great reputation that their parents teaching them is better than a teacher teaching them? why would a parent ever willfully force social awkwardness upon a child? what is the point of going to class if you can't also goof off with friends?
to find out the answers to these ridiculous rhetorical questions, we turn to AOL Time Warner.

(i am only stealing the quotes from this article that fit MY side of things)

"Half a dozen families told Time that the only aspect of school their kids say they miss is riding the bus."

"If you spend time with home schoolers, you get a sense that some of them have missed out on whole swaths of childhood; the admirable efforts by their parents to ensure their education and safety sometimes seem to have gone too far."

"I don't date, and that's something I attribute to home schooling," he[sic big loser] says.

Crazy article

And now for a brief look inside the life of someone who was a public school student, decided to try out home schooling, and tragically relapsed due to being a fatass.

Kyle: Boy, that kid's having a hard time adjusting to public school.
Stan: Yeah. I wonder how Cartman is doing with his home-schooling.
[The Cartman house, afternoon. Cartman is in bed with a bag of chips.]
Cartman: [sighing drowsily] Eeehhh.
Announcer: Welcome to Huntin' and Killin' with Jimbo and Ned.
Cartman: Eehh, shut up. [stretches] Ooohhh, yeasss.
Liane: [opens the door] Hon, are you ready for some math problems?
Cartman: Eh, not right this second, mother. Put them there by the door.
Liane: Oh, all right. [sets them on the nightstand]
Cartman: Mooom?
Liane: Yes?
Cartman: Could you turn up the heat juuuuust a little?
Liane: Sure, hon. [turns it up and walks out]
Cartman: Egghhh. Dude, home-schooling rules. [turns to his right side] Yeeehhhhhhss! [goes to sleep.]

or this:
Liane: [opens the door] Eric, I got you a new history textbook. Why don't you come downstairs.
Cartman: Wwaargh. Not right now, Mom. [sighs]
Liane: Eric, please. We have to do some studying today.
Cartman: I am studying, Mom. I'm learning with the Fonics Monkey. [she looks over and sees the Fonics Monkey tossing a box of Snacky S'mores around.
Stan: Hey, fatass, how's home-schooling going?
Cartman: [sleepily] Oh, it's soooo sweeeet, you guys.
Stan: Well, get your ass out of bed! We have to go deal with that home-school kid!
Cartman: Huh, I can't. I'm too tired. Maybe tomorrow.
Stan: But the big dance is tomorrow and all the guys are gonna duct-tape him to a flagpole.
Cartman: [sleepily] That sounds cool. Maybe I'll go to that.

OK, i admit. i had to rely on cartman for half my content to todays blog. but it is true. find me a normal home schooled kid and i will find you an emory girl who doesnt go over her anytime minutes. until then, screw you guys... i'm going to home school!


If you don't know how to home school your kids, just pick up one of these fine Phonics Monkeys in stores now!

Teenage Wasteland

Hey fuckers, welcome back to monday at the cube. So this weekend was all in all a 7.5/10. i mean i was wrecked for a substantial part of it and i always have a good time on hallows eve. no dinker, but whats new in this place.

I have some ruminations and yes i realize i stole that name but what ever, its the internet and i cant think of a cleverer name.

- Is it bad when the black security guard with 4 teeth is calling me a 'playa' everytime i see him around here? I mean, most of the other guys kinda laugh at him not with him, if you know what im saying. I feel like less of a playa than ever before thanks to this clown.

- What is the black tar like substance that ends up on your shoes and pantcuffs after a long night of partying or clubbing? Why doesnt it come out in the laundry? And furthermore, does anyone have any fucking method of getting it off my favorite neon pink shorts!? (oh youll see.... just wait)

- Can we please end the concept of fashionably late? It would be easier on everyone if you showed up exactly on time to a party. That way you could do two laps, have two drinks, smoke 2 cigs, and make the call for whether the crowd is lame or good enough to stick around and enjoy.

- Why doesnt everyone in the world use cruise control on the highway? If everyone maintained their exact desired speed then i wouldnt have to weave and bob through 8 lanes of dodgy atl traffic to get to my destination.
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Fathers Be Good to Your Daughters

Now I know some people choose to hate on John Mayer. I choose to listen to him because he lays down some fat tracks and his beats are good and his shit makes sense and girls who could be 17 when they look 25 show up at his concerts. so chiu hates this newest radio song referenced above but i think johnny makes a pretty good point in life.

I know a girl
She puts the color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change
And I've done all I can
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hands
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me

Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too

OK lets do a little drill. Girls you can play along too. How many psycho girls do you know? Now, push down a finger on your count for every girl who is psycho who also had a shitty father figure. If you pushed down no fingers, then youve proven my point exactly! chiu, it is a good song because its true... fathers should be good to their daughters, otherwise they turn into psycho girls that cannot be dated except for shitty guys who will grow up to be shitty fathers to their shitty daughters. make sense? i thought so...

My pops was a pretty cool dad. My sister is like different from the 'norm' of society but she is certainly the opposite of a psycho girl. i guess most of the people i interact with in general are not psycho but you know that there are some fucked up dads out there with some fucked up daughters. like oprah. or halle berry. or jim carrey's kid in liar liar. you get my point.
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(WARNING: If you scroll below this next paragraph, you might be facing a giant cock scrunched up into some 2 sizes too small pink workout shorts)

Last thing about halloween for a whole year. So we had 1 group of trick or treaters last night. one. what in the fuck is going on in the world? i hate that kids parents arent letting them go trick or treating from burnouts like me who will just be on sugar rush for the next 14 days. is it because of the whole threat level thing? like somehow if your kids go out trick or treating they might be involved in a serious terrorist attack in your remote neighborhood in the middle of nowhere. uggghh see this is the shit i am pissy about. how can you call yourself a good dad if you dont let your kids go trick or treating? its fucking weak dudes and my kids will be doing whatever fun shit they want to do. i mean, you only live once and im pretty sure the candy isnt gonna jump up and getcha!
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and now.... Don King and Richard Simmons!!!!! (w/guests generic costume, han sucko, the lion, borat, a dirty tampon, kevin federline, and a dirty dirty whore--hi homer!)