Gay Joe: I do not know why but I love this.
Me: You are fucked in the head. That is why.
Gay Joe: Well, yeah. So are you, though.
Me: Agreed. It is why we get along.
Gay Joe: It is always nice to know that you may run into someone you know if the State ever forces you into the asylum.
Me: Totally.
Gay Joe: "Matty?! Is that you?!" "Yeah! Wow! Shock therapy?" "Yup!" "Right on!"
Me: [screaming at cops] "FUCKIN' PIGS! GET YOUR FUCKIN' HANDS OFF ME! Oh, hey Joe. How are you man? ... FUCKIN' PIGS!"
Gay Joe: See you in Pueblo someday, Matty.
Me: Right back at you, fruitcake.

Labels: crazy, gay joe, im convos

Slow your roll, Rita; slow your roll. According to one batshit weatherman in Pocatello, Idaho, this years busy hurricane season is not the result of a natural 25-30 year cycle or global warming; instead it is the handiwork of the Japanese Mafia using a Russian-made electromagnetic generator to launch terrific storms against the US mainland as revenge for the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. Sounds about right.

Labels: crazy

• 1000 years of power, chain mail armor and a broadsword apparently are not enough to combat a tazer.
• Quote of the day: "A waitress is no longer allowed to wander around a beer garden with a plunging neckline. I would not want to enter a beer garden under these conditions."
• Tommy Lee is glad he chose alcohol over Pamela Anderson. Quote of the day number two: "I did not want to give up drinking because I believe I can have moderation in my life." Wise words from a man who once overdosed on heroin and shot up with Jack Daniels.

Labels: boobs, crazy, drinking, link goodness, pop culture

An excerpt from the saga of Satan Cat:

"Even after he shot it, that cat was so hopped up; we're talking about a little, eight-pound cat, Mickey ran down the hall into the bathroom and jumped into the tub," the husband recollected. "He didn't die for at least five minutes. He was all nerves and adrenaline. He wasn't in his right mind."

Labels: crazy, kitty

An armless man threatens to kill his mother with his prosthetic metal hooks. He lost his arms after detonating a homemade grenade during a five mile high speed chase with West Virginia state troopers over a traffic violation.

Labels: crazy, rage

• An angry, sexually frustrated chimpanzee in a Chinese zoo has taken to smoking cigarettes and spitting on people.
• A very intoxicated man and his friend drive home from the bar. The very intoxicated man smashes into a telephone pole and decapitates his friend. The very intoxicated man drives home twelve miles with a headless corpse in the passenger seat, parks the truck in the driveway and passes out in blood soaked clothing. (Disturbing aside: Four people sent me this link today).
• Crazy tirades from the imprisoned Bobby Fischer the former American former world chess champion.

Labels: crazy, death, drinking, link goodness, monkeys, pop culture

My weekend was quiet and uneventful. I played some softball, drank some beer, sold 1970s style furniture at a garage sale, did some freelance web design and watched a crazy bastard demolish the town of Granby, Colorado with a customized bulldozer.

Labels: crazy, drinking, weekend that was

Why do cannibals always seem to go for the penis? If I ate humans, I would forgo dining on genitals for two reasons:

1. They are full of tissue, veins, urine and semen.
2. No matter how it is sliced or prepared, it is still a cock. I would probably cut a slab off the hindquarters where I imagine the beef would be thick and tender.

Labels: crazy, tomfoolery

This link about the trials and tribulations of a career roadie is fantastic. Some excerpts:

• "I started doing so much cocaine, my dick was completely useless. So when girls would come around and say they were willing to do anything to meet the band, I just started throwing meat at them. That's what they had to do to earn their backstage pass. I'd make them strip down and stand in the corner while we pelted them with the deli tray. After a while, it became like this daily event. All the bands would stop sound check and gather round, just to watch me throw meat at some chick."
• "He asked me if I wanted a drink, and I said 'Sure,'" she recalls. "Then, out of nowhere, he puts his hand up my dress and, not even knowing me, sticks his finger in my asshole. I didn't even flinch, though, because I knew he was just trying to get a reaction out of me. And right there he said he knew I was his girl."
• Motorhead guitarist Phil Campbell offered him a hamburger. "I was starving because I hadn't eaten for a long time, so I said, 'Sure,'" Hickey says. "And because my nose was so torn up from all the speed I'd just snorted, I couldn't smell." He could taste it, though, and high as he was, it only took him one bite to realize that Campbell hadn't given him a hamburger at all, but rather a patty of shit stuck between a bun. "That was my appreciation for being so dedicated to the band," Hickey says. "A shit sandwich."

Labels: crazy, drugs, music, pop culture

This morning I received an email of distress from my friend Scott in Minnesota:

How you doin' Matt?

After reading your blog, I'm here to check on you and make sure you're all right. That's some eyebrow-raising shit you've been linking to and I recommend a lavender bath to chill your ass out.

Maybe your friends are feeding you the links, I dunno, but all I can say is if Susan Wright's now dead husband would have just gotten her a shit bitch bear, I bet he'd still be alive today. Pass it on. It could save a life!

Just to assure Scott that I am not going to the roof of a tall building with a high powered assault rifle to pick off old ladies with shopping bags anytime soon, check out this stupid sweater.

Labels: crazy, scotty minnesota, tomfoolery

Christian Slater has a hot wife who happens to be a tornado of crazy. I have had numerous experiences with juicy psycho girls (thankfully, I completed my tour of the crazy bitch circuit in college) and here are two of the best:

• During my freshman year of college I was dating a girl I will call Skank Bait. Skank Bait and I dated for a few weeks, during which time, she asked me if I would be her date to the autumn formal dance. Not only do I hate formal dances, I hated most of the kids I went to college with (they were children of privilege who looked down upon crusty, blue collar kids like me who took advantage of the free tuition benefit given to children of the university's employees). I had yet to have familiar relations with Skank Bait, so I assumed my attendance at this event would be the deal closer. Skank Bait invited a male friend of hers from Colorado State to be a date for her roommate. Skank Bait failed to inform me and her roommate that she was currently involved in a serious relationship with said male friend from Colorado State. Only the voices in her head and her psychiatrist know why she invited us both to the formal (my guess is it was an inability to trust brought on by emotionally abusive parents which caused her hurt people before they hurt her, but I digress). Skank Bait's roommate and I quickly sized up the affair, so we got drunk at the bar and ignored Skank Bait and her male friend from Colorado State most of the evening. Skank Bait's roommate and I decided to leave. Skank Bait sees us getting on the elevator, runs over to me, grabs my wrist and starts raising her voice and making a scene in the lobby of the hotel. I remove her filthy meat hook from my forearm and she screams, "Don't you ever fucking touch me!" At this point, male friend from Colorado State enters the fray getting in my face and saying, "Get your hands off of my girlfriend!" He proceeds to put up his dukes in preparation for fisticuffs. I laugh at him as the elevator doors close. The highlight of the evening comes on the walk back to the car as Skank Bait's roommate and I smoke cigarettes with a pack of drag queens on the 16th Street Mall that tell me I look "decent" in a tie. I never talk to Skank Bait again and Skank Bait's roommate gets a single dorm room shortly thereafter.
• During my senior year of college I ran into a girl I will call Dishrag Whore while shopping at the local mall. I had been fond of Dishrag Whore's fantastic body ever since I ogled it for an entire semester during a statistics class, so we exchanged numbers and decided to meet for drinks sometime. The next night Dishrag Whore calls me and we met up for beers at a local watering hole. Things end up going extremely well and the night ends with us hitting skins in a sweaty heap of meaningless joy atop her bed. Post-coitus, Dishrag Whore breaks down and cries for reasons known only to the voices in her head and her psychiatrist (my guess is our sexual encounter triggered a latent memory buried deep within her subconscious regarding sexual abuse at the hands of a friend or family member, but I digress). I never see Dishrag Whore again, but for the next two months, she calls me to discuss the following topics:
• Why she liked to drink a pint of vodka over the course of a day.
• If I knew of any good places she could score some blow.
• Why she would have sex with Jesus if he were alive today.
• If I would be interested in a three-way with her and her fat friend.

Labels: 16th street mall, college, colorado, crazy, denver, drinking

Update on Big Lurch; The MB's favorite aspiring rapper who smokes angel dust and eats bitches lungs.

Disturbing Aside: I forgot when I wrote my initial post on Big Lurch. Instead of sifting through my blog archives due to my laziness, I decided to Google "eating a bitches lungs." I chuckled as I hit enter thinking it was a long shot at best. The MB is the number one search result. The internet is magical.

Labels: crazy, death, drugs, music

If I ever had a prosthetic leg and a beef with a heroin dealer, this would be me. Of course, if I were truly committed to beating someone with a prosthesis, I could develop a mental disorder and freeze my leg in dry ice so they cut it off.

Labels: amputation, crazy, drugs

Ernest Hemingway had a son named Gregory. Gregory married Ida. They got divorced. Gregory got a sex change operation and became Gloria. Gloria remarried Ida. Gloria died in prison. Ida now wants a chunk of the Hemingway fortune.

Labels: crazy, pop culture

I imagine that waking up from a coma has to be a liberating and spiritual experience. At least until you find out your wife had three babies with another man and your oldest daughter is a stripper.

Labels: crazy, health