Friday, December 29, 2006

Hey Saddam, How's It Hanging?

It seems as though everyone's best friend, Saddam Hussein, is in for one hell of a weekend. His death sentence was upheld by an appellate court this week, and the Iraqis government, not known for many successful decisions of late, has sped up the process of execution.
Now I know what all of you people are saying. "Why do we have people on death row for years and years and those crazy Iraqis can't take care of business in less than a month?" I'm not really sure why this is, except that this country is run by a bunch of pussies who think a murderer has more rights than his victim. And it's Christmas, the time of year when executions should be stepped up.
CNN, home to some pretty hot anchor bitches, is reporting that Saddam may be swinging like my johnson on a hot, summer day before Gerald Ford gets cold. My gut tells me that Saddam has asked for this whole mess to be finished soon, because he can't stand turning on the television in his cell and watching Rosie O'Donnell picking fights for attention.
On a related note, most people don't realize that Saddam is a huge fan of James Brown, who died Christmas morning. Crushed and filled with despair, the deposed dictator reportedly cried like a little girl a the news of his idol's passing.
In conclusion, they really do die in three's - Saddam Hussein, James Brown and Rosie O'Donnell's career.

Friday, December 22, 2006

Christmas Is A Time For Giving...

Ah, it's that time of year. Carols, Christmas trees, crowded fucking stores filled with assholes. Everybody wants something, either a toy or a donation for some poor family. Why can't we do this shit in June when it's warm? At least I wouldn't have to be shopping with every other sick dick in the mall, with their runny noses dripping snot. Tis the season, though.
And gifts. Where do I start? There are those people who really don't need anything, so you get them a gift card. There's a scam. Did you know that somewhere around 80% of gift cards get redeemed? True shit. That means about 20% pure profit for a company that sells gift cards. Money for nothing. If you have a business and have the ability to sell gift cards, you're a damn idiot if you don't do it.
There are people that don't understand what the meaning of the word "gift" is either. When I give someone a gift, it doesn't mean I'm obligated to receive one in return. It means I didn't have to give you a damn thing in the first place. If you don't like the gift, shut the fuck up and smile and say thank you. When I leave, you can give it away or throw it in the trash. I don't give a shit.
You wouldn't believe how many people I give something to and they bitch about it. "This isn't a good color for me" or "Not another gift card." What the hell is the matte with you people? I really don't think that the Magi had a Target gift receipt for all that myrhh. (What stoner gives a baby incense?)
So, don't be a dick during this Christmas season. Order all of your gifts off the web, avoid the mall, and drink heavily. That's what Christmas is all about.

Monday, December 18, 2006

Time Magazine - Puss Out Of The Year

Go ahead and pat yourself on the back. You're a winner and you now have something to put on your resume. You see, Time Magazine has chosen you, the blogger/information sharing public, as their "Person Of The Year". How gay is that?
There are actually individuals that are much better candidates for this honor, like the President of Iran. He looks like a fucking terrorists with that windbreaker and his Manson-esque far away look in his eye, and he's got nukes! Yeah, I'd put him ahead of some idiot blogger, like myself.
Then we also could consider Ladainian Tomlinson who is juking white boy defenders in the NFL. Or, I would consider Sydney Lowe, who has already looking for the paddles and screaming "clear" while resuscitating NC State's basketball program, thus giving hope and joy to many frustrated Wolfpack fans.
But nooooo, the magazine thinks that a dude in his underwear with mustard on his shirt and jerking it to Ampland pics is a more qualified.
With all of this in mind, we will be choosing the Hairy Carrot Person of the Year for 2006. Send in all of your nominations with an explanation in 25 words or less why they should be our pick. And don't be gay like Time Magazine.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Christmas Is Great For Pranks

I really don't care for Christmas all that much. Actually, if they cut it back to once every five years, I wouldn't shed a damn tear. Everyone is so happy and joyful and shit, it makes me feel bad about screwing with their heads, but I do it anyway. So here are some cool ways to jerk those idiots around.
For example, I ship plenty of packages full of gifts to friends and family. On the outside of the package, write in large letters, "Are you still having those sexual fantasies about your letter carrier?" Boy, they'll get a kick out that one!
If you are unfortunate enough to work in a retail environment, the company usually wants some empty boxes gift wrapped to look like gifts and displayed throughout the store. Who says the boxes have to be empty? Put a piece of sandwich meat (ham, corned beef, etc.) inside the box before wrapping. After a week or so, an aroma will start to permeate through the store, and your co-workers will take a while before figuring out where it's coming from. Stinky gifts are the reason for the season.
Here's a great one if you enjoy small kids as much as I do. Go to the area in the mall where Santa is and tell the kids in line (you have to make sure parents aren't around) that old Kris Kringle keeps the "reindeer food" in the front of his pants. Remind the child that there are starving reindeer in Africa.
If you can come up with any other ideas, send them to me. It'll make the season a little brighter for all of us.

Friday, December 01, 2006

Doing It Like The Monks Do

First of all, I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving. I took the time to spend with family and couldn't get the hell out of there fast enough.

A few weeks back, I was watching a show on the TLC network called "The Monastery". This reality show had a basic premise: Take five guys with problems (war wounds, drugs, alcoholism, etc.) and put them alone in a monastery with monks for a month. Nobody gets voted off or anything. Instead just watching them cope with being around a bunch of celibate men and do as they do is the entertainment.
To be honest, I didn't pay all that much attention to it, but there was one thing that stood out. The monks were silent for a few hours in the morning, and the abbott mentioned that the "civilians" could learn a thing or two from this practice. So I decided to give it a try.
In the car, riding for an hour at a time, I turned off the radio, quit screaming at my fellow drivers, and listened to my thoughts. At first, it sucked. I didn't realize how much shit was swirling around in my brain. After a while, everything slowed down long enough for me to at least get a handle on the situation.
Here's a sample of the ramblings in my head.

Wal-Mart really does suck.
I'm worried that I like porn too much.
Pink Floyd is a lot harder to listen to in the car, because you have to be sober to drive.
Christmas should be held every five years.
Al Sharpton can kiss my honky ass.
Letterman has the "Top Ten" and "Great Moments in Presidential Speeches". Why not nightly "Awkward Apologies"?
Porn's okay in moderation.
This pope isn't as cool as the last pope.
Capital gains taxes suck.
Chuck Amato can't be too surprised he lost his job.
Bush needs to flatten Bagdad.
That "Borat" guy is funny as shit.
There aren't any fugly chicks in country music anymore.
Fuck it, I love porn!

As you can see, there's a lot of stuff going on in my brain. And this list was from the first 20 seconds or so. Eventually, I zoned out, nearly hit a tree and got back on the road. I forgot those fucking monks don't drive.