fun facts about the world

You guys suck, I’m going to blue and gold to get bevvied to the max. See you on Monday.

Go Saints, Go Yankees!!

Hurray for life!

When I’m not busy entertaining you ass-clowns (for free, mind you) on the Internet with my unique brand of moral purity, I can frequently be found drinking beer and attempting to drive my friends to suicide.

"Why would you try to drive your friends to suicide, James"  is a question one might ponder, if on had a predilection for such internalized reflection.

Well, Shitfucko - your friends are much more likely than strangers to include you in their wills, hence the assumed financial benefit of their untimely demise. Also I’m kinda just a cunt like that. If you don’t have tough skin, we’re prolly not going to get along. Unless you are a girl, whereas if you don’t have smooth skin, I’m prolly not gonna want to touch. But, as always, I digress.

You can imagine my suprize when, returning home to take off my suit jacket and tie this morning, I turned on the news and was confronted by some bootleg-ass Wolf Blitzer looking muh’fucka reporting that none other than Terrell "T.O." Owens had attempted to commit suicide. I’m assuming that my readers "all" know who T.O. is, but as a quick refresher; he is a 10th year wide receiver and one of the more outspoken players in the league. He was acquired by the Cowboys this off-season after making a nuisance of himself in Philadelphia.  It is worth noting that he broke his finger in the Cowboys last game a week and a half ago. Also, when he was on the San Fransisco 49er’s, he repeatedly said that Jeff Garcia was gay. Which was hysterical. (BTW I’ve noted what a piss-poor lead in and transition this blog post has.)

Some of you granola-eating liberal types out there may try and blame this on "media scrutiny" and talk about how young kids are placed in the spotlight and held up to there ridiculous expectations and whatnot. "Oh my god imagine the pressure" -they might say, in between sips of soy milk. Well cry me a river, build yourself a boat, go sailing and drown. That shit is not cleared for takeoff and hence DOES NOT FLY.

If you are a soft-spoken, humble person and life gets so difficult that you have to, say take 35 pain-killers (still 3 shy of my personal record) in an attempt to make the voices stop for good, I may only mock you in conversations in group settings. But when an ass-clown like T.O. tries to kill himself, he’s getting mocked on the Internet son! Nothing says failure like failing to end your life. On the internet; Forrreal.

I mean, dying is some easy muh’fucking shit to do. People die by accident all the time. Sheeeeeeeet, some people spend their whole lives trying to stave off the big sleep and they still die. You’re telling me a professional athlete couldn’t even handle ending it all? Is there a reading comprehension component of suicide I’m unaware of. Was this muh’fucka academically ineligible for suicide or some shit?

And, just so I don’t seem heartless, I want it to be perfectly clear that I would be much more concerned about T.O.’s well being and recovery if he was on my Fantasy Football team. So that’s me, putting the "man" back in "humanitarian."

Hey yo!

So firstoff thanks to all y’all everyones who came out to the show on Friday.. despite the extended waiting and whatnot, I think it came off pretty well. The new album is shaping up nicely, although we haven’t really started recording or anything serious like that per se, all the songs we’ve been doing live have been getting a nice response from the audience. So again, if you came through -thanks. If you didn’t, well we’ll (wordplay, son) be playing our Halloween Holocaust show on October 28th in the times square area. So, I’ll be yelling about that as the date approaches.

Ahhh, now I remember what I wanted to write about… Did y’all happen to catch the tragic story of how a this drunken NYPD officer was driving with one of her (not a typo, she was all vaginaed out and shit) fellow female rookie officer, when girl A drove into a light-post (or something equally hard) and killed girl B.

While I generally feel nothing when a pig dies, I was conflicted as to how to react to this story. I mean, I like women and I don’t really associate them with police officers. Generally when someone says "police" it conjures up the image of some overweight alcoholic Michelob wearing a Jets jersey and sweating profusely -hence the hatred on my part. However the young ladies involved in the tragic accident were both in their early 20’s and didn’t seem to have any love for the Jets. And while the NYPD has proved that they allow and possibly encourage their officers to drive drunk, (to hilarious results) this story just feels different because those involved are female.

And if you didn’t know where I’m going with this, what I mean to say is should females really be allowed to be police officers? I know we have a canine unit that allows female dogs and all, but I think it’s a little silly to extend gender equality to police officers of all species.

I’ll now offer some anecdotal evidence under the guise of concrete statistical proof.

The only time I ever had any dealings with a female officer was in Jefferson Parish, Louisiana. One of my homies and I had been walking towards the off-street parking of a long-abandoned warehouse to, uh, donate to charity. As we approached, a police car with a one male officer and one female officer was driving out of the area. I’ll give the woman some credit and say that it appeared obvious that they were in such a secluded area because they were having sex (although I’m sure she was blowing him) and understandably, were startled to see us.

After immediately stopping us, the female lady officers line of questioning was laughable -and after I repeatedly outsmarted her, she needed the male cop to take over. To his credit, he immediately handcuffed me, made me kneel in gravel with my face pressed against the hood of the cop car and made numerous threats against my physical well being while emptying the contents of my pockets onto the ground. After I was eventually released and subsequently banned from Jefferson Parish I reflected on how if there were just two male police officers on the scene, the overwhelming threat of physical violence against my person would have likely compelled me to into admitting that I had, indeed entered the parking area with the intention of donating to charity. However, since the female officer was clearly more proficient in administering sucky-sucky than policework, I wasn’t even arrested.

As an aside, it could be said that most of the damage sustained by Jefferson Parish during Hurricane Katrina was a direct result of God’s anger at my being mistreated at the hands of their police. The lesson is two-fold: Female cops are shitty and more likely to perform fellatio than make an arrest and if you fuck with me, God will getcha.

In another blog, perhaps authored at my leisure, I’ll attempt to prove that there is a direct correlation between women becoming career-oriented and the decline of American society. Shit, I may even make up some statistics. And I know correlation equals not causation, so don’t try and be a smartass and point it out. I got a muh’fucking B- in Statistical Analysis.

Also to consider: With the Saints returning to the Superdome this evening in what will be an emotional moment for those in New Orleans and around the United States, do we really need U2 and Green Day to perform? 

With all the great jazz musicians in New Orleans, did (whoever the fuck) really need to reach out to U2?

I had initially posted this on my secret blog, which you don’t even know about because we aren’t cool like that, now are we?

But in retrospect (the best ’sepct this side of " female lack of self-re") I don’t have a secret blog and it’s not like anyone still checks friendster (myspace won). Besides, coming up with shit to write about isn’t as easy as, say drinking lots of beer and falling down.

I would like to point out, before I bring you back to two months ago, that for the last week and a half the area around where I work has been decidedly fucked up -first because of fashion week and most recently because of all the heads from OT at the UN. Honestly, could we not have just combined these events and saved a lot of police overtime. Foresight isn’t just a fancy word for a kid with glasses.

ANYWAY.

——-

So, having just woke up from the 4th of July, I figured I would jot down some quick notes about what occurred as a preventative measure against becoming too optimistic that shit would pop next year.

First off, let me say that the whole NYPDeuche campaign against illegal fireworks was a complete fucking waste of everyones time. At least out in Asstoria where I was, people were shooting shit off all day and especially during the Macy’s fireworks display, which seemed to be especially wack this year. The collection of Arabic people blasting their Arabic music at an audible volume didn’t help anything at all.

Anyway, the real highlight of the day for me (and any other decent God fearing person) was the Italy-Germany game, or Jesus V. Nazi’s as I looked at it. Despite the two teams being fairly evenly matched, Italy came through in the waning seconds of overtime for a beautiful goal and then added the (demoralizing) icing on the cake about a minute later to send the Germans back to Germany (ha!). At the very least, shit didn’t go into penalty kicks, which makes no sense. It’s not like they play three extra innings in baseball and then have a homerun derby if the score is still tied. What a hell of an analogy!

Back to the point, shit was popping in Rome like whoa, and I need to look into where I can acquire a blue flare before the final match on Sunday.

Alas, unlike the bullshit Macy’s fireworks display, I will not have the world cup to look forward to next year.

So, you know, in between leaping tall buildings in a single bound and being a multi-platinum R&B singer I occasionally find time to watch television.

There is this one series of commercials for "Milwalkee’s Best Light" (which I guess people in rural areas and frat-tastic dudes refer to as "beast light" -ahh the word play of idiots) wherein a group of dudes will be standing around doing something like playing poker. Then, when one of them commits a faux pas, like leaving the table to call their girlfriend, a giant can of Milwalkee’s Best Light falls out of the sky and lands on them, presumably killing them on the spot.

While I’m surely not trying to sanction any behavior that would fall under the category of Fruitcake Shit (no offense) I do think that these commercials are pretty ridiculous in terms of ascribing old-fashioned gender roles to dudes. I mean, in one of the spots a guy is seen doing "baby talk" to a small dog. Then a large can of Milwalkees Best Light falls from the heavens above and lands on him, presumanbly killing him. The voiceover than informs us that "Men should act like men, AND light beer should taste like beer." Are we to believe that if the unwitting animal-loving male had been more "masculine" he would have kicked the dog in the face, thuis avoiding his aluminum death? I’m just a little unclear on this. Are you asking me to go kill dogs, or what?

And also, c’mon Milwalkees Best Light. Your beer tastes like watered down water. If I was running their ad campaign I would have come up with something a little more accurate to market the product. Such as:

"Milwalkees Best Light: If Coors has too much flavor."

"Milwalkees Best Light: Free 6-pack if you know what state Milwakee is in."

"Milwalkees Best Light: Drink it right out of the can."

"Millwalkees Best Light: Mets fans have herpes."

Whereas their current ad campaign can be summed up as: "Miwalkeees Best Light, if you do anything the brewers consider to be effeminate, it will fall from the sky and kill you on the spot." Shit, I imagine a generation of beer drinkers who are so busy looking up that they hardly even have time to get drunk anymore.

What this your intention, Miller Brewing Company? I think not.

Summary: I talk about the Internet.

The Internet is an important part of todays society -however a decade or so ago, the Internet wasn’t that important unless you wanted to go into chatrooms, it. I remember thinking the other day that the Internet was important for a lot of practical reasons (looking shit up, keeping in touch, masturbation aides, etc.) but also for general recreational purposes - it kinda serves as "super TV."

While I was smoking a cigarette (and giving women a reason to wear makeup and stay in shape) the other day I realized that the Internet blew up without any clever marketing schemes or anything like that. While it is worth noting that not a daigo by that I don’t see some ridiculous facts from the Peanut Farmers of America (if that’s even their REAL name) on the train urging me to eat peanuts, less I die afraid and alone.

So I got to thinking, how would I market the Internet if it was my account. I try to always think like I’m at a job interview these days, and I’m making more of an effort to use small words, speak slowly and try to smile -just as a general aside.

Anyways, so here were my slogans.

"The Internet, it’s whats for dinner."

"The Internet - now in color."

"The Internet -where everybody knows your name."

"The Internet -more perverts than Thailand. (More 12 year-old boys to have sex with too.)"

"The Internet - coming to a computer near you."

Anyway, I’m off to see the wizard, assuming that the wizard is a six-pack of Budweiser. Here is a photograph of me at Dr. Boogie’s wedding proving beyond a reasonable doubt that I do in fact drink beer. I like how amused with myself I look. You gotta amuse yourself. And voting is important too. That’s me, teaching y’all how to live life. Go Saints! Go Yankees! Go-Go-Gadget!

Last night while in attendance at the Yankees game I had a few realizations. The first one was that I no longer really liked going to Yankees games, because it’s just a bunch of OT motherfuckers with their children playing "lets hold hands and act real polite," shit costs mad money and I can’t even smoke cigarettes. That said, this was my 9Th Yankees game of the season (they were 8-1 while I was there) and the most disturbing trend I noticed this year was that people in Yankee stadium have started to do the wave. Like it’s their fucking job.

Once upon a time when men were men and if the wave would get started up at Yankee stadium it would be greeted with jeers and a bunch of drunken lunatics screaming to "take that shit back to Shea." Last night this white trash looking slut in a Florida sweatshirt and her horse-faced friend (who could stand to lose a score or two, weight-wise) were able to start a wave so successful that it went around the stadium more than once. I’m not trying to get placed on a terrorist watch-list here, but a casual observer of the situation at the stadium couldn’t help but conclude that the people there all deserved to die.

Briefly I thought that things were returning to normal when a loud ruckus started in the bleachers - once a rite of passage for boys on the road to manhood, now the equivalent of a highway rest stop near Frisco - but I was horrified when I noticed that they were cheering for the wave. I wanted to scream "are you all out of your fucking minds" but there were little kids sitting in front of me and I was raised better than that.

Have we sunk so low that we have to adopt a tradition from the Mets, our fairer-sexed crosstown rivals?

Also, have you ever noticed how all Mets fans have Herpes? In case you didn’t know they got it from doing the wave. The wave spreads Herpes. If you are a Mets fan and you have Herpes, you got it from doing the wave.

If you’ll excuse my poor, rushed writing I’ll forgive you your trespasses. Deal?

Ayo!

I just wanted to point out that Football rules the United States with an iron fist. Football employs more people than GM, McDonald’s and the Post Office combined. Football is older than the bible and has been translated into twice as many languages. Football transcends race, religion, country and everything (except perhaps gender -ahem, female sideline reporters babbling on and on and seducing Broadway Joe). It could be said that football, and not the wheel or whatever else people are all rah-rah about these days is actually mans greatest accomplishment.

While football never once got me high or gave me a blowjob, I’m still as fond of it as fond can be. And that’s just swell! Football is a means of making the transition between the incredible summer and the horrible winter go smoothly. Football allows you to drink all day on Sunday without feeling like an alcoholic. Football gives hope to hopeless men and money to poor people. Football cures diseases and negotiates nuclear non-proliferation treaties. Football never stole your girlfriend and never would. Football always wants to stay out for another half hour on a weeknight. When Football fought the law, Football won.

So, there’s me, blocked booked on Sundays through New Years.

In other news, Baseball doesn’t suck either.

And I’m also fond of Horse Racing, Boxing and World Cup soccer.

Twice in a row when I bowled in a large group of people, I had the highest score. I really like bowling too, but it’s not like you could catch me watching it on TV.

And I also recently bet $20 that I could beat one of my boys in golf, even though I’ve never golfed an entire 18 (or even 9) holes. I just have faith in myself like that.

Have a nice Monday Night!