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Entries in Zhu Zhu pets (2)


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.


My Little Rat Bastards

We can’t have nice things and we all might as well be naked.

Anyone with kids knows this fact. Nothing is sacred anymore.

Peeing at the toilet—you might as well be peeing at half court during the NCAA tournament.

Furniture—globs of dried snot, food, and baby jesus knows what else all over it. Yeah, you want to come visit me now don’t you?

Car—it looks like a muddy soccer game took place while a Crayola factory exploded inside my Nissan.

Nothing’s off limits with these damn kids.

The daughter’s just a messy beast.

She’s broken long-standing records of being able to completely trash a room at mach speed. Sunday morning the wifey was busy defending herself from my quest for morning sex while we continued to hear the pitter-patter of the daughter’s feet back and forth between her room and downstairs.

When I finally surrendered and decided to go make coffee I walked down stairs only to find a massive doll house, two baby doll cribs, five Zhu Zhu pets and two dozen stuffed animals being read-to by my daughter, and what looked like the biggest cat-fight between a gaggle of Barbies strewn all over the couch. Oh, and she apparently had “breakfast cooking for us” on the toy stove, refrigerator, and sink that was set up in the middle of the room. All toys she gathered from her room and the basement into our living room.

The boy is a damn disgusting, snot-filled tornado.

When he has a cold he refuses to breathe through his mouth so all you hear snot being shuffled around in his nose as bubbles randomly escape. He loves to crawl on the floor of public places; go under tables at dinner; touch nasty, dirty things laying on the ground; and every one of his shirts and coats have crusted sleeves from constantly rubbing them along his nose.

And unfortunately he inherited the profound skill of being able to just flat-out break shit. When I was dating the wifey in high school, I broke lamps, chairs, tables, dishes and so much else at her mother’s house.

The finest example of my son’s skill I can provide are these three lovely trophies sampled from the boy’s trophy collection.

This baseball trophy used to sport one kick-ass bat that actually made t-ball look like the manliest sport ever invented.

I loved this bobble-head soccer didn't even survive the car ride home before his head sprung out of joint making him look like Rain Man trophy.

This Pele-looking bad ass flying through the air to score the deciding game-winning goal lost his foot a while back. We have it in a baggy sitting next to the trophy in the boy's room.

But I wouldn’t have them any other way. Despite seeing the girl licking the window on the train heading into the city… Despite the boy picking up a lonely discarded M&M along the street and eating it… Despite the fact every time you tickle my daughter she sounds like a Whoopee cushion going off… Despite the fact my boy won’t let me see him naked, but every time I pee he’s right there staring… I wouldn’t change a damn thing about them.

They’re disgusting, dirty, hilarious and beautiful. They’re my rat bastard kids.