On my drive into work this morning I saw two little kids playing with a balloon at the bus stop. This made me happy.

Labels: data slaughterhouse, random

This is the kind of stuff I root for.

Labels: sports

Hate rock, Hammerskins, swastikas and some barbecue. The journalists who wrote this story objectively approached the subject matter and allowed the hate mongers mentioned to shine through as the collective morons they are. Case and point: Richard Butler, the oldest leader of the white power movement. He is dating a former porn star known as the Latin Princess who had sex with women, black men and the most infamous Jew in porn, Ron Jeremy during her cinematic career. It makes me smile to know that the Hedgehog stuck his hairy, sweaty circumsized penis into some Neo-Nazi's woman.

Labels: hate, porn

Peanut butter and jelly. Martin and Lewis. Steak and potatoes. Satanism and puppetry.

Labels: evil, random

What is it going to take for you to go away? Do you not realize that you have no talents other than being an STD dumpster? I know you are the heiress to the Hilton hotel fortune and all, but there are plenty of other wealthy American industrialist trust fund children out there that we know nothing about and care to know nothing about. Lets think this through, shall we? If you continue through life with your current popularity rating (taking into account you will not overdose on coke or die from starvation by age forty) you will become addicted to plastic surgery after your youthful glow disappears and your skin starts looking like an old catcher's mitt from years spent in tanning beds, you will suck down vodka and pills for breakfast and give weekly interviews to Diane Sawyer and People magazine discussing your heroic struggles with an eating disorder and substance abuse. Do we really need that from you, Paris Hilton? Blubbering confessions in tabloid media from an aging barfly with the propensity to shoot a night vision sex video when stoned to the gills? Talk about a fucking nightmare.

Labels: drugs, pop culture, sex

My lady and I went to see Miracle yesterday. Movies rarely move me, as most of them have about as much substance as a steaming pile of elephant dung and before yesterday I could count only three instances in twenty eight years of popular cinema viewing where I was touched emotionally:

1. The Empire Strikes Back. After battling Darth Vader in an epic Jedi light saber duel, the handless Luke Skywalker scales the flimsy scaffolding of a weather station high atop Bespin while Vader questions the brash youngster (equipped only with his bad haircut now) about his family tree. Luke learns that Vader is his father. Ridden with denial and hurt, Skywalker jumps from the scaffolding into the abyss of the gas colony.
   
2. Planet of the Apes (Original). Chuck Heston is riding down the beach on his trusty stead with hot piece of mute ass Nova clinging to his back after the apes have freed him. He comes upon an ancient sculpture and stops. He dismounts the horse, falls to his knees, grasps at the wet sand, looks up to the sky and damns all of humanity. Camera pans out to reveal the ancient sculpture is in fact the Statue of Liberty.
3. Deer Hunter. Robert DeNiro, Christopher Walken and a game of Russian roulette. "Didi Mow!"
   

Now Miracle has officially made my list. After standing on his head for the 1980 Olympic medal round and defeating a Soviet team that had won the gold medal for twenty straight years, net minder Jimmy Craig skates to center ice looking for his father in the crowd after he wins the gold medal. "Where is my Dad?!" "He is right there, Jimmy." Fuckin' A.

Labels: hockey, movies, pop culture, wife

Disney World is the happiest place on Earth. Unless you are a Cuban immigrant in a Goofy suit, that is.

Labels: death, pop culture

Are you still contemplating what to get your lover for Valentine's Day? Look no further than an Afghan war rug. Nothing says Be Mine Forever quite like it.

Labels: valentines day, war

Me: "Damn though mans I'm just tryin' do me. If the record's two mill' I'm just tryin' move three. Get a couple of chicks, get 'em to try to do E. Hopefully they'll menage before I reach my garage."
Monica: God bless the Jay-Z. I love him. I would be all sick ass groupie for him. Would you be a male whore/groupie for any band or singer?
Me: Gwen Stefani. The Go-Gos circa 1982. The Bangles circa 1986.
Monica: Susanna Hoffs was a sweet piece of ass.
Me: You (besides Jay-Z)?
Monica: Lenny Kravitz. Robert Plant circa 1978. Henry Rollins circa 1986.
Me: I had a thing for that one Heart sister back in the day. Not the cow but the one that played the Axe.
Monica: Nancy.
Me: That blond curly hair, running around in lingerie and busting out some riffs on "What About Love."
Monica: Marvin Gaye. That would have been interesting.
Me: Even more interesting: Barry White.
Monica: Not Barry White. He is a whale.
Me: Speaking of interesting, how about Janice Joplin? Ugly as sin and chasing the dragon. I would have just yelled at her until she serenaded me with some "Bobby McGee."
Monica: Ha! Jimi Hendrix. You know he would have clogged a girl up something fierce...
Me: Er...?
Monica: ...with drugs, not sperm.
Me: Whew. Thanks for clarifying. I would have tagged all of Bananarama.
Monica: I do not even remember them.
Me: Sure you do: "Leaving me here on my own, its a cruel. Cruel summ-aaaah." Not summer, mind you, but summ-aaaah.
Monica: You complete me.
Me: Right back atcha, fruitcake.

Labels: im convos, mons, music, sex

After the Broncos won Super Bowls XXXII and XXXIII, young fans under the influence of assorted chemicals draped in their John Elway and Terrell Davis jerseys took to the streets of Lower Downtown Denver and celebrated in their own special way. That special way included random acts of vandalism, tipping over parked cars, lighting shit on fire and punching each other in the face. It was a magical time that brought the community together. Fans in Boston have celebrated the Patriots Super Bowl XXXVIII victory in this same special way. I will put $20 on this guy being named Sully and using the word "wicked" often in casual conversation.

Labels: crime, denver, sports

''The first night I was OK with eating at the stadium. But when they told me we were going to eat there again, I was a little disappointed. I was like `Take us to Red Lobster or something.' Instead, it was the same old fried chicken. That's when I pretty much made up my mind. I can't live in a place that don't have any restaurants. What am I going to do, fly home to eat shrimp?''

Willie failed to mention some of the more intimate details of his trip such as committing battery (twice) and being charged with a felony. I imagine Gainesville authorities might have been more lenient with Willie if he had signed with Florida as opposed to the University of Miami.

Labels: college, sports, tomfoolery, willie williams

An excerpt:

He told police he noticed a brown female stray dog wagging its tail and "acting sexy" and pulled it into some tall grass by the roadside.

Labels: bestiality, perversion

No her first name ain't baby, its Janet, Ms. Jackson if you're nasty.

Labels: boobs, music, pop culture, sports