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Entries in snuggies (4)


Top 10 Things BP Should Shove Up Its Leaking Oil Pipe

So…there’s this oil leak in the Gulf.

After 11 deaths, ridiculous finger pointing amongst disgustingly rich oil company CEOs, and failed attempts at placing oversized diaphragms over the leak, BP is now going to attempt to shove a variety of items into the pipe such as golf balls and rubber.

I was just as shocked as you. So, I didn’t waste a second’s time. I picked up the phone, cranked out a few emails, and polled the world’s greatest engineering minds to come up with a better solution.

And now I’m pleased to share it right here, right now with you. YOU! Before I send it via carrier pigeon to Obama and via my foot in the ass of oil executives, I thought I’d let my faithful readers see it first.

Top 10 Things BP Should Shove Up Its Leaking Oil Pipe:

Rod Blagojevich’s Hair

Seriously, just scalp that crooked bastard’s hair right off and shove it directly in BP’s pipe. It’ll more than likely solve two issues at once – the clogging of the pipe and cleaning up the thousands of barrels of oil already spilled. In fact…don’t bother scalping this douche…shove him right up there with it.

Justin Bieber and his entourage

All you parents of young girls out there, I know you’re with me on this one. As big as that kid’s head is getting he’s got to be able to clog BP’s pipe up. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll drop his entourage down to get his ego nice and jolted just to fill in the cracks and crevices.

My kid’s stuffed animal collection

Seriously…can someone else please give my kids a fucking stuffed animal for Christmas, Easter, their birthdays, or whatever reason you feel drives you to buy a useless plush animal making a cute face with open arms and annoying scratchy tag hanging on its ass? Please? I so badly want to shove them right up BP’s pipe!  

Carrot Top

I think someone should send a fake letter telling Carrot Top that his jokes suck and sign it “BP’s Spewing Oil Pipe.” Hopefully that will piss off that steroid chewing, hulk of a comedian off enough that he’ll want to swim directly down to the pipe and strangle it shut.

Sarah Palin

Come on…you knew I had to put her in here somewhere. Hell, I’d pay BP to let me at least try and shove her in that pipe… Please! Please BP please?!

John Holmes

Someone should totally resurrect that porn industry icon, throw some oil on his Jheri curls, slap him on the ass, yell “go get ‘em tiger, and send him out there to do what he did best in life. If anyone could grab hold of that pipe and handle it like a man, he sure as hell could.


Ten out of ten people agree…Nickelback should be shoved directly up BP’s pipe. In fact, the poll further revealed that if BP were to shove Nickelback into their leaky pipe, they would be forgiven for the mass murder of hundreds of animals that will continue for years to come.


Need further explanation. Read this. Oh…and they should totally clean up the oil using the Sham Wow.

Death Row Inmates

Because – if I can rant for a second – it amazes me we keep people on death row for so long, using tax money, only to put them to death decades later. Gather the overwhelmingly guilty death row inmates up and….well you know the rest.

Zhu Zhu pets

Two weeks ago one of those little bastards got lose in the house and I couldn’t find it. All day long I’d randomly hear its maddening squeaks and sounds, feeling like I was on a really bad acid trip. Two days ago one was left in my car during an hour-long drive. It was all I could do to not drive myself into a telephone pole. Shove all those sanity killers hard down BP’s leaky pipe.

I hope you all enjoy the hard work minds across the world have put towards this environmentally important problem. We hope you’ll consider us when nominating for the next round of Pulitzer Prizes.


A Day With Pink Ducky Part Deux

A month ago, almost to the day, I pulled a good little plastic dude from the depths of depression and showed him one hell of a good day. Yep, Pink Ducky.

He was stuck in a real bad routine of sitting in a rotting, moldy bath-tub bag, alone, cold, depressed. So I showed him a good time!

Well, after posting pictures from his day on Twitter and this blog, Pink Ducky became a star. He got an endorsement deal from Jared Galleria of Expensive-Ass Jewelry and got paid!

I kinda lost track of the little guy cause he was so damn busy. Then, on Saturday I woke-up to the smell of waffles wafting through the air. Everyone in the house was asleep, so the first thing that came to mind was, “Oh shit, someone broke in my house to make waffles!” Thinking of family first, I grabbed a bat and walked downstairs holding the wifey in front of me for protection. And much to my glee I found Pink Ducky!!!

“You’ve been in a slump,

And feeling like a chump,

So I’m crankin’ out some waffles and here to say,

Today is gonna be YOU’RE day!!”

“Why the hell are you talking in rhyme’s Pink Ducky,” I asked?

“It’s kind of a long story,

But if you really wanna know the whole thing will be on Maury.”

“You were interviewed on the Maury Povich Show? Damn Pink Ducky, you’re a rock star!”

Anyway, the conversation continued…. But the bottom line was, the little bastard wanted to lift my spirits and enjoy a day together. So…we caught the first train to the city.

Then, he brought me to the Sears Tower.

Once we got up top he said, “Everything you see here can be yours if you try,

Damn..this is getting scary…we’re up pretty freakin’ high.”

After telling Pink Ducky the rhyming stuff was getting pretty damn old, we headed out for some grub at Ada’s Restaurant.

Then, we went to the Marshall Fields building (Macy’s) and wrote letters to Santa.

Not five damn minutes after Pink Ducky wrote his letter, Santa freakin’ delivered. That’s the luckiest Pink Ducky I’ve ever seen in my life.

Then, after dodging falling ice, having to deal with Pink Ducky having an “accident” cause the bathroom was broken, and buying him a pair of Crocs – the #2 ranked article of clothing on the list of things I can’t stand….#1 of course being the Snuggie – he decided he knew what my problem was.

“You know what’s wrong with you baby?

You’ve got to learn how to get down and sexified with your lady”

So we pounded a shitty PBR and headed home.

Then he whipped-out the guitar and showed me the art of serenading.

Took me on a tour of my wifey’s naughty drawer.

And showed me how a glass of red wine always helps get thing started.

But none of it helped. Pink Ducky failed. I tried to break it easy to him that I was still pretty depressed but he kept getting calls on his cell phone and said he had to run off to “a thing.”

In the end – it was kinda cool hanging out with the little fella again. And I do miss him. And I can’t freakin’ wait for the Maury show so I can find out why the hell he talks in rhymes.


What Pisses Me Off?!

Now that Thanksgiving is over, we can stop all this happy-dappy crap and get back down to brass tax—the things that piss me off. I did spend yesterday thinking about the so many many things I’m fortunate to have going right in my life. I know life could be significantly worse than it is now, and that for many out there, it is. But this is my life, and right now – I’m gonna get negative, cause I can.

There’s quite a few things that piss me off – some are long-term issues I have buried deep in my psychotic mind. Others are new and deserve just as much attention. So let’s get this thing started:

1) Screw you The Swine!! In my mind there’s three different types of flu. There’s the garden variety “flu” which everyone freaked out about back in the day (1 year ago), but now it’s seen as, “oh, you’ve only got the flu? Pshaw….dude, grow some balls, that’s nothing. Get back to work.” Then there’s “swine flu,” which will knock you out and is what my son is currently battling. It’s rough, but you can beat it. Then there’s “The Swine.” This bastard will take you to your knees, make you its bitch, tell you it loves you, then go bang your wife. My daughter had this last weekend and was hospitalized.

2) Kiss my ass Death! Yeah, I said it. Take your stupid black cape and go jump off a cliff. Seriously – you take one more of our family members and I’ll kill you while I…..oh wait….that doesn’t really make sense….

3) Last chance cat!! Jasper, our black cat pisses me the hell off. Why? Because he’s obsessed with knocking over cups and glasses. We cannot leave a cup or glass sitting alone or he will come over and knock it the hell off the table. It’s become common place to walk into a room to find a massive puddle or glass everywhere. Next time – Jasper – and I shave you and take you to Pet Smart so all the other animals can laugh at you.

4) The career decision I’m forced to make. Enough said on that.

5) Christmas makes me nuts! The materialistic nightmare that is now Christmas makes me wanna go postal on Santa’s North Pole sweat-shop. Even in an economy where we’re all counting pennies, the pressure to get out there and spend way more than you have is disgusting. If it weren’t for my kids, I’d boycott it all together and never….wait, hold on. “What’s that honey? No…no I didn’t say… But you know how I feel and… OK…OK! Just please don’t threaten to throw away the nookie jar again!” Ummm…. I’m I apparently love Christmas and enjoy buying gifts for the wifey.

6) What is it with Quitters? No, not people who quit….but “Quitters.” You know, that one sock in the pair that’s magically lost its elasticity so it’s all big at the top and won’t stay up and forces you to have to throw away a damn good pair of socks with no holes in them. Yeah – I’ve lost two pairs of socks in a week and I don’t even have kankles.

7) Cancer can suck it! Seriously…why can’t you only attack mass murderers, idiotic politicians, or Balloon-Boy’s father….OK, I took it a bit too far there, but you get my drift. The wrong people seem to always be the target and for that my friend….I hope cancer gets cancer.

8) And last, but certainly not least….yeah, you guessed it – Snuggies. You Smurf colored, backwards robe looking, piece of shit. I mean, the fleece it’s made from is not even good quality fleece. You make it impossible to sexually attack my wifey. You make sexy women look like turd smugglers. Your commercials make me want to obsessively stalk kids’ football games to find that couple in the stands wearing you so I can kick the ever-loving shit out of them in a parking lot. You’re stupid. You’re a washed up, worn out, piece of cloth that couldn’t  hack it in the bathrobe world, so you went rogue, got popular for a short period of time, and will end up a phenomenon that everyone laughs at three years from now. Oh wait…am I still talking about the Snuggie or Palin?


Back to My Southern Roots

So I’ll start off by apologizing to my blog readers who’ve given me shit (rightfully-so) for ignoring their giggle needs. I’ve had a rough 4 days…but I’m back!!!

So, my grandmother died. She was 90…I grew up with her as a huge part of my life….she rocked….and now she’s gone. But, she’s happier now so it was more of a celebration. Except, the celebration happened in Anderson, S.C.

Now let me just toss in there that I grew up in North Carolina. Born, raised, went to college, got my first job, first blow job, first relationship with a “little person and his pet horse,” first beer, first throw-up in front of my mom after drinking a whole bottle of MD 20/20 and trying to play it off like I had the stomach flu, first masturbation scene and first girlfriend who still journals about how badly I messed herup…all in North Carolina. So I love the state, SOME of its people, hate its ideals, wish the tobacco industry would rot in hell, and wish all racist bastards would burn a slow death. But other than that…I love it!

So my grandmother’s funeral was on Sunday at 3 p.m. An extremely convenient time for someone who lives in Chicago and has a boss that…well, let’s just say, gets inconvenienced by his worker’s personal life’s problems. But I sucked it up.

Saturday I hopped a plane to Raleigh, N.C., where my brother lives. My bro is just over 2 years older than me and has turned into one kick-ass friend. He’s got a wife who should be knighted for what she’s had to put up with, and two insane boys, 1 and 5 years old.

Long story short, we decide to drive to S.C. on Saturday (4.5 hour drive). We get there at 9 p.m. and meet my mother, her husband, and my godmother for dinner at Applebees. The Clemson game is on, everyone’s in orange, I desperately want a beer but no one else is drinking at the dinner table. Oh…and I’m also a vegetarian.

This seems to surprise a shit-ton of people, I’m not sure why, I’m guessing because I’m such an asshole they think I’ll tackle, kill, and maul any living thing that comes my way, but not so kids…it’s not so.

So the waitress doesn’t know this little tid-bit about me yet, which my step-dad loves to point out. So everyone’s ordering and it gets to my brother’s 5 year old who says, “I’ll have macaroni and cheese, and celery sticks.”


Then the waitress looks up from her pad with a horrified look and says, “You ain’t gonna eeaaat no meeeeeat?” in the worst southern accent you could imagine. Immediately my very southern step-dad says, “wait till you get to the numbskull next to him. He eats lettuce and beats too cause he’s a vegetarian!!!”

And the amazement ensued. How could anyone live a life with no meat?!!!!

The next day, we’re on our way to the funeral - me, my brother, sister-in-law, their 2 kids, my mom, step-dad, uncle, and his two kids (teenagers). We have about an hour before we need to be at the church for the family-only graveside service. So we decide to go eat and we’re following my uncle who claims he “knows where to go” for some eats. I shit you not…we pull into a fucking McDonalds.

Wearing suits, on our way to bury a loved one, we eat our lunch at McDonald’s. On top of it…again, I’m a vegetarian…at ……Mc….Donald’s.

After arguing with the zit-faced douche on how simple it is to just NOT put the chicken on my salad and how yes, “picking it off” is not OK with me, I finally got a bowl of lettuce, two carrot skins, what looked to be the boil off a tomatoe’s ass, and dressing for the low-low price of $8.

To top the entire weekend off, I decided on the 4.5 hour drive back to Raleigh starting at 6 p.m., I’d count the number of redneck-ass cars I’d pass that have Truck Nutz. Eight…yes…eight idiots felt they needed to overcompensate for their douchebagness by purchasing a pair of rubber nuts they could hang from their rear trailer-hitch to make sure everyone driving within a 40 foot radius knew their wheels were in fact a dude.

So to recap… I love the south…I’m from the south…..southern women are incredibly hot…my wifey is a southern woman….truck nutz…..McDonald’s…..I fucking hate Snuggies…..vegetarians should never try to live in the south…..Deliverance……inbreeding……..I have an alarm on my house so don’t try to break in and kill me, I love the south, I voted for Obama!!