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Insert Your Favorite Weekend Joke Here.

fourteen eating habits that make you fat. of which, i am guilty of eleven.

seven heroic dogs - proof that once again, i hate cats.

enlightenedmotorist - floridasunburn - freejews - lickmyballs

Pain At The Pump.

Far be it from me to call myself a tree-hugging whale-saving hippie, but every time I reluctantly pull into a gas station like a scared puppy, I have to ask myself, "What the fuck." The nearest gas station is three miles from my house. In city driving, my truck gets about 10 mpg, so right after I fill up it costs me $1.35 just to drive home. Thankfully, I don't drive my truck as much as I used to. At 50mpg, my motorcycle has done wonders for relieving my pain at the pump, but I don't find it practical for quick trips to the store. Simply because 99% of the time I'm in shorts, so to have to drop what I'm doing and change into long pants and workboots to make a quick two mile jaunt for a loaf of bread. That just doesn't seem very practical. Currently this short-trip void was filled by my two little Bad Ass Scooters (tm) that I bought for fun last year. But in this regard, the motorcycle was a curse because when I get on the scooters and have the little 49cc lawnmower engine wound all the way up to redline, only to look down and see the needle barely touching 30 miles an hour... I'm like, "Eh." The magic is gone, baby. Plus that limited speed means I can't safely go out into any traffic should my travels take me a little beyond the corner store. Cape Coral Parkway is 45mph, which means people do 50mph, which means I'd get run the fuck over. The same reasoning makes a bicycle unpractical, besides to the fact that there's no way I'm going to pedal my fat ass around the neighborhood.

So, the ever increasing gas prices are forcing me to reprioritize and sell some toys. First, my two BAS's are going up for sale this weekend. I got a year's use out of them, they are terrific for beating around the neighborhood as a novelty item, but now I need something more substantial. So if I can sell em for what I bought them for, it should be a wash. This of course means I'll be needing an economical mode of transportation for my local errand running. Since my experience with Chinese built scooters has been significantly less than flattering -- that's a story I'll save for next week -- I've set my sites on a used Yamaha Vino 125. Any bucks I get from selling the BAS's should give me a a leg up on the cost of the Vino and the manufacturer's website suggests it can get 96mpg, but I know realistically it's more like 80-85. But still seriously, what the fuck -- at least 80 miles per gallon and it'll do 55mph. Sold.

The second thing I've decided to sell is -- and this pains my heart -- my Nova. For it too, the magic is gone. Last week I figured out that I only put 300 miles on it in the last calender year. It's become just something I have to step around in the garage. Not so much because of gas prices, but now that I have the motorcycle for open road trips and I just don't enjoy the Nova like I used to. I know classic cars aren't supposed to be driven into the ground, but I think not driving it can be as detrimental as driving it too much. So let it go to someone else who will enjoy it more than on just the occasional weekend. So if anyone wants the inside track on a 1963 Chevrolet Nova SS convertible, let me know.

And on the Fireflies front, I really thought Saint was going to run away with it with his 2,506, but right after he sent that in, it was quickly trumphed by Sooth and his 2,601. This challenge ends tomorrow, so smoke em if ya got em.

atheism: a non-prophet organization! - top fifty atheism quotes

evil dead the musical: it's like the musicals you love, only evil.

He Sure Does Love That Bone.

I've always been fascinated by World War II. As a kid, I studied any books on the subject and regarded myself as a pretty good WWII history buff, but of course it was always from the American standpoint. To me, it was a clear situation; the Allied were the good guys, the Axis were the bad guys. And that's not to say that statement is untrue, it's just that as an adult I can appreciate the opposing point of view. I can certainly understand that the average German footsoldier was fighting for his country, just as we were fighting for ours. To him, we were the bad guys. Now the deathcamp guards are another animal, but that's not where I'm driving today. Doing some surfing yesterday, I came across this photoset of a former Soviet (Russian) soldier being reunited with the tank he was a crewmember of in World War II. Not a similar tank, mind you - but his tank. As in, "See that scratch, I put that there 65 years ago." Clearly you can see the guy get very emotional, and I just found the story very compelling. Consider that the Soviet Union had some 10,000,000 military deaths, to see both man and machine make it through all of that death and destruction really is quite remarkable.

Also take a look at the percentage of deaths in regards to the entire 1939 population. The Soviet Union lost 13.71% of its population. If the same thing were to happen to the United States today, that would mean some 41,705,765 -- over 41 million people killed. It would be like killing everyone in California and Tennessee combined. That's some crazy shit, man.

Some people have asked how I'm doing on ye olde motorcycle. Good. I'm getting into my turns pretty good now and as Andy predicted, I scraped my left floorboard the other day. Nothing happened (crash wise) because the floorboard is on a hinge allowing it to push up and not kick the front tire out. The noise did scare the shit out of me though. I had been considered putting some crash bars on, both for highway comfort and crash protection, but after seeing this photoset I'm not so sure.

Game challenge. You must complete the game in order for your score to count, so the leader right now is Don, followed very closely by Smitty. Now doubt, Don is laughing at you.

halo 3 homicide detective - dutch west gets to the bottom of an epic halo 3 death.

marine wife practices shooting at a gun range and a hot casing ends up down her shirt. funny.

evil dead the musical: it's like the musicals you love, only evil.

Notice She Keeps The Iron Handy, Though.

So just to recap on my bowling prowess? Two weeks ago? Nine strikes in a row? Kicking ass? Yeah that seemed to be somewhat of a fluke. This past Friday I bowled 155, 144, 139. yeah. That's a series average of 146. I couldn't even pick up my signature the spinning ball spare conversion, if you can believe that. So I'm kind of looking at this week's bowling with a slight feeling of dread.

Game challenge. I have a new one, if you're ready. Gotta get your bounce on and avoid the floating mines when you collect all these Fireflies. It's very straightforward, there's no hidden skills needed other than guestimating bounce angles. So do what you and see if you can beat my 615 - take note that I was one fucking purple firefly away from more points and advancing to level nine. Fuckers.

I remember the crash, and even more so, the shooting on base. I was still in the Air Force at the time, and remember it was big news. A former military member, having recently been discharged for psychological reasons, returned to the base with an assault rifle and started killing people. The first responder was a young Security Policeman, who was on bicycle patrol. The SP confronted the shooter at a range of some 150 feet, draws his weapon, shoots five times and hits the bad guy four of those; including one in the stomach and one in the bridge of his nose. Think about that. Adrenaline pumping just because you're having to pull your gun, compounded by the fact that you just pedaled your ass off on a bicycle, and then start shooting at a target half a football field away, and scoring two kill shots... with a handgun. All hail Robocop.

Here's one for the humanitarian recordbooks. "The boy, who was suspected to have breaking the lock of a shop, was first beaten up followed by acid being poured into his eyes." Yeah. And doctors report, "both his eyes are damaged badly" -- well no fucking shit. Medical school sure paid off for those guys. I don't recognize the location they mention, but I certainly detect an accent. Pakistan me thinks?

I'm not sure which is cooler - this veteran's plan to drive his big ass truck all around the country, or Gemma Atkinson 2009 bikini calendar preview photos.

over 5,120,000,000 little green houses have been “constructed” since the monopoly game was introduced in 1935... more...

I Hate Cats, Part Deux.

If you are anything like me, you are always looking for sound opportunities for investment -- opportunities to invest small mounts and make big returns. I've done some market research, and have found an investment that could be a real "sleeper" in making a lot of money with very little investment. A group of us are considering investing in a large cat ranch near Hermosille, Mexico. It is our purpose to start rather small, with about one million cats. Each cat averages about twelve kittens each year; skins can be sold for about 20 cents for the white ones and up to 40 cents for the black. This will give us 12 million cat skins per year to sell at an average price of around 32 cents, making our revenues about $3 million a year. This really averages out to $10 thousand a day - excluding Sundays and holidays. A good Mexican cat man can skin about 50 cats per day at a wage of $3.15 a day. It will only take 663 men to operate the ranch so the net profit would be over $8,200 per day. Now, the cats would be fed on rats exclusively. Rats multiply four times as fast as cats. We would start a rat ranch adjacent to our cat farm. If we start with a million rats, we will have four rats per cat each day. The rats will be fed on the carcasses of the cats that we skin. This will give each rat a quarter of a cat. You can see by this that this business is a clean operation -- self-supporting and really automatic throughout. The cats will eat the rats, and the rats will eat the cats, and we will get the skins. Let me know if you are interested; as you can imagine, I am rather particular who I want to get into this, and want the fewest investors possible. Eventually, it is my hope to cross the cats with snakes, for they will skin themselves twice a year. This would save the labor costs of skinning, as well as give us two skins for one cat.

Two different facets of being an insanely rich celebrity: Brad and Angelina just bought a $60 million house -- that's sixty million dollars. Complete with a private vineyard. And a moat. Yet on the flip side, Charlie Sheen pays $52,000 a month in child support. So me? As politically incorrect as it is, I think I'll just stick to my cat business, thank you very much. I don't want to seem greedy. P.S. Larry, you sound gay.

pirate's booty - an ex-jack sparrow spills the beans on life at the magic kingdom

if you think $4 gas is bad, some predictions put it at $6 within a year

kobe bryant + jackass film crew + midgets + pool of snakes = good clean family fun

Enjoy Your Memorial Day.

Ernie - I just read your posting from the guy serving in Korea... and now fell compelled to get something off my chest that's been bothering me. Since it's almost Memorial Day it's probably also a good time to get up on my soap box too.

The other day I was at a burger joint waiting in line when an Air Force guy walks in. He gets in line somewhere behind me, but soon notices that he doesn't have any cash. So he goes over to an ATM (which the burger joint conveniently has set up in the lobby area - of course) to withdraw some money. He puts his card in and has some sort of error. I begin thinking to myself... if this guy can't get any cash, then hell, I'll offer to buy him lunch. After all, he's protecting me from the Saddam Husseins of the world, I think a combo meal is a small way to show my appreciation. As he inserts his card again, the line begins to move and I start scanning the menu to determine what I want to order. The next time I look back to the ATM, Mr. Air Force is gone. He apparently failed to get cash and bolted out the door. For a second I thought about going out after him, but didn't want to loose my place in line. Also, I didn't want him to think I was some sort of kook.

I felt bad about this for more than a couple days. Why? (Here's the part where I get up on my soapbox....) Memorial Day is next weekend, and is one of only 4 holidays I observe - 4th of July, Halloween, and New Years being the others. For a lot of folks, Memorial Day means the Indianapolis 500 and an extra day off from work. Now there's nothing wrong with that. However, Memorial Day is also the day that we honor the men and women (most of them between the ages of 18 and 30) who have fought and died for our freedom. Let me repeat... fought and DIED. They had their whole life ahead of them, but instead, they gave the ultimate sacrifice, death, so you and I can enjoy the freedoms and lifestyle that we enjoy in the US of A.

Why was I bummed about Mr. Air Force guy at the burger joint? Because we honor our veterans and the men/women who have died for our country, but rarely do we honor the Service men and women right here and now. Sure they are getting paid for the job they do. And yes, they volunteered to join the service. And, yes, yes, yes... for many of them it is stepping stone to a career in the private sector. However, as long as they are wearing that uniform, they are dedicated, day in and day out, to maintaining the freedoms that you and I take for granted. It is a thankless job, and even in times of peace, it is a job that occasionally costs them their lives (i.e. the 17 Members of the USS Cole).

I am not in the military, therefore I think this is an awesome thing they do.

Now there's all sorts of things you can do to honor the men and women of the fighting forces. But for those of you who are of simple means and/or don't have the time/desire to volunteer, here are a couple of easy things: 1) Say thank you to anyone in uniform. That's right, just walk up to them, shake their hand and say "thanks for serving your country." Next... 2) when you are at the ballgame, hockey match, auto race, or whatever... for crying out loud, take off your goddamned hat and shut the fuck up when they play the National Anthem!!

Okay... I'm climbing down from my soapbox now. If I don't stop here, I'll begin to rant about flag burning, and how it is basically the best thing you can do if you want to prove that you are a pathetic, selfish slob with no intellect or sense of understanding whatsoever. Have a wonderful Memorial Day. Throw a few brauts on the BBQ and try to think of the folks who died in order to give you a better life. -robk

so long, Sergeant Merlin German, United States Marine Corps, we hardly knew ye.

Insert Your Favorite Weekend Joke Here.

in sixteen weeks, craig davidson, a canadian novelist, transformed himself into a hard-as-nails hunk by injecting illegal steroids.

another online photo album, this one entitled “tree people” by george steinmetz. dangling peener alert.

Don't Worry, This Post Is Spolier Free.

I suppose I should clarify my statement from yesterday, regarding Crystal Skull being horrible. it was horrible; for an Indiana Jones movie. It was a million times better than that two hour long drool inducing No Country For Old Men, but when compared to the original Indiana trilogy? Moose balls.

On the topic of CGI'd movies, one of my friends called me a purist because I always shit on the computer generated aspects of modern films. And that's not always true; I only shit on CGI when it doesn't contribute anything to the film. Example: How the fuck could you make The Transformers without a computer generated Optimus Prime? Answer: You can't. The same thing goes for Iron Man, the Fantastic Four, and a dozen other science fiction flicks. All of these movies simply couldn't be made to any degree of believablility without some computer generated special effects. Thus for these movies, the special effects contribute to the film. This, I enjoy.

But what leaves me scratching my head and feeling very cheated, is when moviemakers will include an enormous computer generated scene that does absolutely zero for the plotline. An example: the scene I talked about yesterday where four huge stone pillars spread out in a spoke pattern, all rise up together and form one huge stone pillar. Looks neat on television, but when you actually see it on the big screen, it looks horrible. And guess what it had to do with the plotline? Not a fucking thing. Let's revisit and take a look at the Top Ten Indiana Jones moments (top fourteen if you count their honorable mentions) -- how many of those were CGI'd? Answer: Zip. Zero. Nana. Not one. They were all live action. And that's not because there wasn't some technology available at the time -- they cutting edge stuff at their disposal, too -- Spielberg/Lucas just chose not to use it in favor of real actors with makeup, props and sets. And so they were spectacular, edge of your seat scenes and it was because of the story and the character, not special effects.

Yesterday as I sat watching Crystal Skull, not once did my pulse quicken or the hair on the back of my neck stand at end. In fact, I sat there frowning scene after scene. Indiana Jones was never in danger. I never once sat there and said, "Fuck how's he going to get out of this one." And here's a little pseudo-spoiler, but actually it's not if you've watched the trailers and can use your fucking hdead. Sean Connery passed on revising his role as Indiana Jones' father. Instead, there's a new character introduced, who's about the right age to be Indy's son. Catch my drift? And you know what, I'm fine with that. I just wish that had cast someone other than that little princess fairy Shia Leboeuf. I mean seriously. As Indiana Jones' son? Get the fuck out of here. For Christ's sake, Randy the Peter Pan guy could give a more convincing performance in that role. At one point, Leboeuf is actually swinging on vines like fucking Tarzan, in order to catch up to Indy. That's right, I said swining on vines. Like Tarzan. They should have done this movie ten years ago, and cast Leonardo DiCaprio instead. Leboeuf is a total flop.

But perhaps the most troubling things about the entire movie? They didn't tell me a story. You can watch Raiders of the Lost Ark and it's a story all unto itself. It was groundbreaking, it was unique and nothing else had ever been done like it. Watching Crystal Skull, I sat there and picked out ten minutes worth of Hellboy, and five minutes worth of National Treasure, and two minutes worth of Pirates of the Carribean, and on and on. The ending was like watching Close Encounters of the Third Kind all over again. In short, there was nothing new and unique. I wanted to be transported back to my childhood for a couple of hours, and that just didn't happen. It was just like too many other movies out there lately; really just video games with the occasional actor mixed in for dialog.

Some people liked it -- it made $4.5 million dollars on Thursday morning -- so obviously some people don't share my distaste. I think Crystal Skull might have been a decent movie if someone else played the lead role and it was called something like, "Panama Jack and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull," but as soon as you link Indana Jones to it; you've got some high standards to meet. And it just fell so short. But I will thank Indiana Jones for saving me in one regard. In the final scene of the movie, a phantom wind blows Indy's brown leather fedora to the feet of Shia Leboeuf (fag) who bends down to pick it up. As I'm watching this, I felt bile and cliche start to work its way up my esophagus. I was going to vomit right there in the theatre. And then just as he's about to place the hat on his head, Indy's hand reaches into frame and snatches the hat back. Thank fucking God, because I was wearing sandals.

And the new leader in Bubbles 2 is Bane with 3,949.

this game has only one level can you beat it - with deliciously good soundtrack, too.

chicago is a rough place. why you steppin to me little man? because i got skillz, bra!

It Was So Fucking Horrible, I'm Fucking Speechless.

I had hoped all the rumors were false. That it didn't suck. But alas, they were true. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull... SUCKED ASS. Just simply horrible. Speilberg said CGI had been kept to a minimum? Sure, if my minimum you mean the entire second half of the fucking movie. And that faggoty little Shia Bebeau guy -- of however the fuck you spell his name, I'm too pissed to look it up -- yeah he calls Indiana Jones "hey grampa" and "old man," like four fucking times. And you know how the first three movies were based upon the existence of God? Yeah well this one is a touch different - it's interdimentional aliens. Who come back to life when you replace their skull. Seriously. And the alien's "treasure" at the end? Yeah it's knowledge. Knowledge is their treasure. How fucking lame is that.

Want more CGI blastphemy? Indiana Jones shows us how durable he still is -- by surviving a nuclear fucking explosion. By hiding in a lead lined refrigerator. That gets throw about half a mile. But he's unhurt. Because he's Indiana Jones. Much like how five people survive driving an amphibious car off a fifteen story waterfall without so much as tussling their hair. Twice. Now you know why Sean Connery took a pass. Oh, and how do the bad guys die at the end? Pretty much the same way they did in Raiders of the Lost Ark, only this time computer generated instead of melting wax. And fifty times as stupid.

I think the only redeeming part of this movie was at the end of the warehouse chase scene (featured in the previews), where a crate is knocked open to reveal the Ark of the Covenant. Just a neat little nod the die-hard fans. And that happens in the first ten minutes. Everything after that "sucked warm butter out of my ass."

If you feel you must see it -- I can understand the nostalgia -- wait for the hype to die down and catch it in an uncrowded matinee. At least that way you only get fucked out of $7.50.

Da! Da-Da-Dah! Da-Da-Dahhh!

That's right bitches, you can all kiss my rosey red ass because I'm off to see Indiana Jones at the 11:45 showing. So this is a mini weekend'esque update. And I'll do an editorial after I hit the ATM machine and get back from the movie. That's right. One day. Two updates.

But for now, the current leader in Bubbles 2 is Scott with 2,738.

ten cities with the most beautiful women - and oh yes, tel aviv makes the list

the nine most devastating insults from around the world

Yay!

It looks like enough people have jumped on the Save Arnold bandwagon, so the kitty should be all set. Thanks to everyone who donated to help, to help... a fucking cat. Ugh. Anyway, the family is supposed to be posting more pics soon, so that tuned.

So everyone is writing in to ask me if I'm broken hearted about the Jessica Biel/Justin Timerlake engagement rumors. And to be honest, no. In fact, dare I say I'm a little relieved? Because as much as any guy would love to point a finger at Timberlake and call him a douchebag, let's admit it, we'rd all trade lives with him in a half a second. So as long as the love of my life is NOT going to get hitched to some tool like Kevin Federline, then I'm cool with it. I am not however prepared to address the pregnancy rumors, and no, I don't care that Jessica Alba got married yesterday. I'm not saying that I'd have kicked her out of bed, but if we're playing Hollywood Fantasy Fuck, there's a lot more chicks I'd do before her.

Game challenge. Sorry Sam, you came close but sorry man, in the end it was Aaron with 1,575 that came out on top. I hope you're not too glum - you're still a 1337 g4m3r. Next up on our list is Bubbles 2 -- you start off as a tiny bubble (no, not in beer) and by collecting other bubbles, grow larger. You have to of course avoid spikes which will make you blow up, so the larger you grow the more challenging that is. There are also power ups, and my advice to avoid the 'drugs' one unless you really want to suck ass. Trust me. Anyway, you have to beat 738 points.

Watch what happens when too much pressure is put into the beer can launcher. The aftermath is pure destruction - watch as the gun blows to bits, and hits people standing behind the shooter.

old and busted: eye tattoos. the new hotness: tooth tattoos. live to chew, chew to live.

pictured: the moment a u. s. marine escapes death as a taliban bullet whistles past his head

a few too many - is there any hope for the hung over?

This One's For You, Spooky.

I fucking hate cats. Seriously, I fucking hate cats. They make my nose run. They make my eyes itch and swell up. They make me sneeze. One time I spent eh night at someone's house, and slept in their spare bedroom where the cat "wasn't allowed in" -- and when I woke up I looked like the fucking Michelin Man. If someone who has a cat gets in my truck, for the next week my eyes will itch every time I get inside again. I fucking hate cats. Which is kind of funny, given that when I was a young tyke I actually used to have one. She was black. I got her on Halloween. Her name was Spooky. She got out one day and after presumably being buttfucked by a tomcat, got mange. She was old and didn't respond to treatment, and she went to the vet for a shot of sleepie juice sometime thereafter. And let's be honest, even cat people will say, "No it's okay, my cat is cool, he's acts just like a dog." So then get a fucking dog already.

Why the fuck am I bringing this up? That's a question I've asked myself several times over the past few days. Fucking cats. I fucking hate cats. Which is why I found myself completelyt dumbfounded at giving a little bit of a shit when reading this email...

Motherfucking cats. Godammit. I hate cats. And yet somehow, for reasons I simply cazn't explain, I find myself drawn to Arnold's plight. Why? I don't know. I shouldn't. Why shouldn't I? You guessed it, because I fucking hate cats. But perhaps it was the way he crawled back to his family after being attacked, or maybe it was that he is wearing a Red Sox hat in one of his pictures. Regardless, as I expressed before, I find myself somehow giving a shit about this cat. I can't fucking understand why, but I do.

So here's the deal. I've corresponded with Pego, who is the related to the kids that own Arnold the injured cat. Arnold the injured fucking cat. I've also called the animal clinic and surgeon and verified that yes, the situation is real. And at the risk of having my Man Card revoked, I'm going to ask you -- Jesus Fucking Christ I can't believe I'm saying this -- to help a fucking cat. Maybe it's because of the bowling incident, but seriously, I taste cock my mouth right now. Help a cat. What the fuck am I thinking? I am fortunate enough to have a healthy animal and -- knock on wood -- should something happen I guess I have the money to pay my vet bills and still eat. If you do too, then do me a favor and maybe help these folks out. Don't go crazy -- if this were a dog I'd ask you to refinance your house -- so while I don't want to go without food, I can't just ignore a wounded animal. I know gas is expensive but if you can, toss a few bucks their way. You know, to help a fucking cat. By that extension, you should all prepare yourselves for peace in the Middle East any day now.

ten year old chinese girl has her leg amputated. without the benefit of anestesia. what the fuck.

dear 19 year old neighbor kid whom I’m paying eight bucks an hour to dig trenches:

I Could Have Been A Contender.

So we're two weeks into the twelve week Summer bowling league. Some of you may remember that I bowled a faux 300 game three weeks ago, in a "9-pin-no-tap game," where 9's count as strikes. This past Friday, I damn near had the real thing.

I carried a 182 average coming into last week's game, which is good, but not great. Puddy was visiting, so I wasn't following my usual 'no drinking until the third game' rule. The first two games were 190 and 168, and both we and our opponents each took game. But in the rubber match, something changed. I dunno what. Perhaps it was my championship caliber stock. Perhaps it was my inate desire to win under the most dire of circumstances. Perhaps it was that third bucket of beer. All I know is the fucking pins couldn't fall down fast enough. Strikes came one after another. Pow, right in ther kisser! Pow, right in ther kisser! Pow, right in ther kisser! I entered the tenth frame with a perfect nine strikes in a row. Only three strikes stood between me and an honest-to-goodness perfect game.

Well, three strikes and the enourmous fat black cock that plagued me three weeks earlier. Anyway, the ball felt a little heavy in my weary arms, as my feet found their my mark on the lane. The pins gently shimmered in the distance, illuminated by a dozen flourescent bulbs. My head swam a little because I was pretty fucked up by the end of the game, but to be honest, I don't think it affect my bowling. It was a happy sort of bowler's high buzz, I guess. My pushoff was perfect; synch'd with my right leg, right towards my target, elbow snapping straight to allow the ball to pendelum. And then, just as I released the ball with a practiced flick of the wrist -- a fat black cock. Right in my eye. Nothing I could do.

And before the ball even hit the lane, I knew I had sent it sailing too far left. Not much, maybe only an inch or so, but that would translate to much bigger problems as it got further down the lane. For a half a second or so, I thought mayve it would hang on enough to score me a Brooklyn -- where it impacts the left side of the pins instead of the right. Every once in awhile this happens, and strikes while not common, aren't unheard of. But alas, the drift was too great and my ball barely nicked the left side of the headpin. When whatever pins had decided to fall had done so, I was left looking at a 6-10 split. Which wasn't all that bad; I have picked up that spare up a dozen times before. It's actually quite easy, either hit the 6 pin on the far right side, carrying it over to pick up the 10 pin, or hit the 6 pin on the far right, deflecting the ball into the 10 pin. The one thing you don't want to do is hit the 6 pin dead on, because then you leave the 10 pin.

So piece of cake, right? Wrong. Because remember, I have a fat black cock in my eye. Long story short, I didn't hit the 6 pin dead on; I missed them entirely instead. I end up finishing with a 266. I felt like Tom Brady. Much to everyone's surprise, I didn't have temper tantrum after my tenth frame collapse. I mean I just bowled my highest game ever, so can I really complain? But I am curious. If anyone knows how I can remove the cock out of my eye, it sure would be the cat's ass.

Kind of a bit of irony in the Linkaball challenge. I received Smitty's pic verifying his score of 1,330 points, but in doing so, he also showed me Sam who scores 1519 points. SO I guess the current leader is Sam, eh? This challenge will end tomorrow, if no more takers!

old-time action hero or old missing-in-action hero - is it john mccain or indiana jones?

well, as we fast approach the official start of hurricane season, here's all the info you need for some snaky cakes.

Insert Your Favorite Gone Fishing Joke Here.

from russia with hate - looks like ivan doesn't like those brown people either.

It's Not What It Looks LIke, I Swear.

So have you ever done something while you're really fucked up, that seemed like a great idea at the time, but then later on once you sobered up, realized just how fucking stupid it was? Yeah, so did this guy.

A policeman sends his wife and kid to a resort for a vacation. After a week he joined them in the hotel. As soon as he came to the hotel room he wanted to make love to his wife and gave her "the look". Whispering under her breath, the wife says "No darling, we can't do it here, our kid is watching!" Husband replies, "You're right, lets go to the beach." After a while they make their way to the beach, they start to make love on an empty beach. All of a sudden, a policeman walks up to them. "Put your clothes on immediately, shame on you, you can't do that in public!" Embarrassed, the husband admits "You're right, but I had a moment of weakness. We hadn't seen each other for an entire week. Now, I'm a policeman too, and it would be very embarrassing if you fine me." The cop thought for a second and said "Don't worry... you're a colleague and it is your first time. But this is the second time I've caught this bitch, so she's going to have to pay up."

a comparison of portion sizes between 1988 and 2008 - and wonder why the dryer keeps shrinking your pants?

I Wonder If The Dog's Name Is Jack?

Okay, new game challenge. Actually, I gave you guys a previews a couple of days ago, so hopefully you were smart enough to get some practice in. I was able to muster up 896 points on the eleventh level of Linkaball before pausing to make this post. In case you were stupid -- errr, sorry, too drunk to play it earlier -- the goal is to link chains of like colored balls together. No, it's not the gravity driven tub of balls, or even the ball cannon type games we've done earlier. This one is bouncy. Really bouncy. So do yourself a favor - shut your mouth and try it, you'll see.

Girl in laundry basket vs. wall, insane goose vs. boater and his dog, annoying little kid vs. tuba player, dizzy kid vs. pole... oh so many to choose from! But I would have to say the shotgun vs. face one overshadows the rest.

I wonder if the Chinese earthquake survivors are eating more alligator? I wonder who did this kid's face painting. I wonder what this vendor was thinking about? I wonder if Megan Fox all wrapped up in a soaking wet body suit and wearing pasties still counts as being topless? I wonder what kind of rating your mom gets?

are you a fat lazy fuck that needs your greasy burger fix as quickly as possible? find the nearest fast rood restaurant here.

seven things we want to see in ironman 2 - eight, if you know, you include 'bigger tits'

Yesterday I Went And Saw Ironman.

So if you haven't seen it yet and are worried about me spoling it, now might be a good time to gouge out your eyes with a spoon so I don't spoil the surprise.

Let me begin by saying that seeing The Dude with a shaved head? Really weird, man. Just really fucking weird.

Anyway, the movie begins with Robert Downey Jr (RDJ) riding in a HUMVEE caravan somewhere in Afghanistan. Bing, Bang, Boom, they're under attack and he's captured as the only survivor. In captivity, we're told there was shrapnel near his heart, so a fellow prisoner hooked up an electromagnet in the middle of his chest, to keep the shrapnel from entering his heart and killing him. The magnet is powered by a big ass car battery, so one of RDJ's first convalescent acts is to create -- well, really a mini-nuclear reactor - and mount it to his chest to free him from the tethers of his car battery. Hence we have the storyline for Ironman's future power source. The bad guys want RDJ to build them a "Jericho Missile", which is a big ass rocket manufactured by RDJ's company, Stark Industries. RDJ agrees, but through a little misdirection, manages to instead build the first version of his Ironman suit. All gussied up in said suit, he lays waste to the terrorist camp and escapes into the desert.

Back in the U.S. of A, our hero wants two things - first a cheeseburger (blatant product placement by Burger King), and to hold a press conference. Where to a stunned audience, he tells the world that Start Industries will no longer make weapons, but will instead focus on technology to better the world. RDJ is then hurried off the stage by The Dude, who assured everyone that RDJ's feeling under the weather. RDJ abandons his playboy lifestyle, going into seculsion to begins his secret work on his new Ironman suit. Somewhere along the way, The Dude strips RDJ of his controlling authority over the company and is revealed to be the true villain of the movie. Then via some snooping my RDJ's semi-hot assistant, we learn The Dude is not only selling Stark Industry weapons to the terrorists that held RDJ captive, but also arranged his kidnapping/murder attempt. Again, I just can't see the Big Lebowski as the bad guy either, but work with me here.

The film inclused about twenty minutes of footage of RDJ working on his new invention and some pretty comical trials. Believe it or not, the comedic sidekick isn't a person, but a one armed robot with a fire extinguisher. Skeptical? Trust me, it works great. And after working all the kinks out and strapping on some neat ass weapons, our hero Ironman heads back to Afghanistan and kicks the shit out of a bunch of (well, Taliban) who are attacking a village. He is then chased by some F-22's -- one of the scenes you see in the previews -- and returns home to begin a power struggle with The Dude for control of the company. The final battle is between Iroman and The Dude is his version of the Iroman suit, built with recovered plans from RDJ's kidnapping escape. Obviously Ironman wins, otherwise the movie wouldn't be called Ironman.

All in all, it was a pretty good flick. I'm not as excited about it as I was Rambo, but I still consider this one of the better superhero movies I've seen in a long ass time. The computer animation was VERY well done and didn't interfere with the believability of the movie -- even with the premise there's a guy flying around in an iron suit powered by a reactore implanted in his chest. That's a big thing for me, since other superhero movies such as The Incredible Hulk were completely ruined by bad CGI. Acting wise, I think RDJ was the PERFECT choice for the role -- his quick tongue and lackadaisical attitude fit the bill perfectly. Gwyneth Paltrow does okay as RDJ's assistant/pseudo love interest, but personally, I'd have chosen someone with bigger tits. But I'll do you a favor so you won't have to wait through the fifteen minutes of credits to see the 'mystery' fifteen seconds of footage at the end. RDJ comes home and sings Samuel L. Motherfucking Jackson standing in his living room. SLMFJ wears a patch over one eye and explains to RDJ that he isn't the only superhero out there, and they should discuss 'Project Avenger'. Obviously a great setup for Ironman II.

I give Ironman two thumbs up.

legally blind man, 78, bowls perfect game - as a fellow bowler i say... lucky bastard.

aftermath photos of a russian dui crash - they range from mugshots to full on gore

Go Ahead, Roll The Dice.

Eighteen thousand people buried in one city alone, eh? I'm guessing they used the same shoddy materials in their office buildings as they do in their cars, so no fucking wonder everything collapsed like a card house. And I have the sneaking suspicion, the same level of quality applies to Chinese scooters, too. Goddamn birdfuckers. Go Yamaha.

This is Gears of War 2 - There`s bunch of gameplay, some story talk, chainsaw duels, hostages and neck snapping ... fuckin sweet! I bet if you've got the balls to do it, you can give the bad guys a good anal fisting, too. Yeah, this game is going to get some great feedback.

How much do you want to bet that this fat guy owns this fat dog.

the top five pre-death monologues in film - including hopper from true romance

let's watch as this coal trains gets sidetracked intot he assend of a line of hopper cars. all aboard the pain train!

The Poor Girl Is Hooked On Snorting Coke.

Insurgo. as promised, here's Eric's core of 2,354. He did not however, maintain the lead and was beaten first by Connery with 2,633 -- also notice the ERNIE BLOWS GOATS score -- and then Aaron held onto the lead for quite awhile with a 3,287. But alas, he too succumbed to Mr. Tarkanian's 3,943. That sir, is one big fucking tower. So there you have it... sorry they weren't posted earler, but I had that issue with the images server.

The horrible aftermath of the cyclone in Myanmar - this video shows everything from dead cattle to dead villagers after the vicious cyclone swept through there. Even Rambo would be shocked, and for him, killin is as easy as breathin'.

Ben Fry has his baseball 'Salary vs Performance' chart up and running again. As usual, the Yankees suck. And wow, who knew the Sox had dropped to the two slots in regards to highest payroll? Cheap fuckers.

mummies were so plentiful when first discovered that they were ground up and sold as fertilizer and put into medicines...

use your mouse to guide the joe little uh, platypus(?) to the other side of the chasm and fix that water pipe!

Yes, I Know The Images Server Is Down. Be Patient, Bitches!

The current leader in Insurgo is Eric with 2,354 meters - only I can't post his screen cap because the images server is fucked up. SO when it comes back to life, I'll be sure to show you. Until then, you'll just have to trust me. We're working on said server now, so stay tuned as we have a lot of stuff to do. Speaking of which, here's a list of things I did last night.

colossal castle or humble home? same price – your choice

...he escaped from a derailed train, a door-less plane, a bus crash, a car into flames, another 2 car accidents...

Gone Golfing. Full Update Tomorrow Instead!

zero x motorcycle: 100% lithium-ion electric, 40 mile range, weighs only 140 pounds

angryelephant - burnetedferrari - flippedpickup - fueleconomy - rippedoffvette - sanfrantraffic - unfortunateparking

Peace, Daniel Son. Peace.

I was having an out-of-body experience and almost astral-traveled away yesterday, so I grounded myself and got centered with the help of my spirit guides and then the phone rang, and sensing the negative vibrations, I threw the I-Ching and checked my numerology chart, nearly having a primal, but my energy was too blocked. So I did some bioenergetics and self-parenting, took some flower essences and ate an organic oat bran ginseng muffin, but my inner child wasn't feeling nurtured yet. To fix this, I had a Rice Dream Frozen Pie, which, of course, made me hyper, so I did the relaxation response technique I had just learned at the Self Healing Angst Tree Defoliating Center while listening to my subliminal tapes.

But that left me feeling depersonalized, so I did some polarity work, foot reflexology, and past life regression, then rebirthed myself, and called Moon Beam, my body worker, to make an appointment for a Shiatsu/Reike/Rolfing/Feldenkreis/Swedish/Japanese deep tissue massage. Unfortunately, she flaked out and never returned my call, so I decided to energize my crystals and do some positive imagery because all my visualization techniques and affirmations made my space feel invaded. So to get empowered, I got a psychic reading from Mother Heart Love around the issue of my assertiveness so I could feel my radiance and have some energy for my psycho calisthenics and inversion swing before my harmonic brain wave synergy session. This made me more focused for my actualization seminar, holistic healing class and dream workshop, which in turn made me clearer for my Gestalt behavioral cognitive transpersonal Reichian-Jungian-Freudian-Ericksonian session at the hot springs, but my aura was too weak for my trance channeling group, so I fasted until noon to recharge my chakras.

At that point, I sensed my intuition was high and my cycle was focused, so I turned on my ion generator to open up for my Neural Linguistic Programming session. But I needed to have my pyramid recharged before my guided synchronicity meditation, so I got some craniosacral therapy, which aligned me for the fire walk between my tarot card reading and my sensory deprivation tank appointment. But even after all that, I felt what I truly needed was a meaningful relationship to mirror myself, so I went to my personal shaman, and then to my guru, but they were no help, so instead I went to the Intensive Whole Life Earth Rebirth Cosmic Expo Symposium Workshop to find someone who really knew what was going on. That didn't help either, so I locked myself in a calcium coated Orgone Box and meditated until 9PM.

None of it really worked for me, so drank a twelve pack of beer - and dude, did I feel right with the world. Oh, and DJ is in the lead in the latest challenge of Insurgo.

the russians are parading their military hardware -- including icbm's -- down main street again. this should end well.

guys, if you're going to the gym in hopes of getting a better body, this is what you should aspire to avoid.

ladies, if you're going to the gym in hopes of getting a better body, this is what you should aspire to.

an rescue operation in iraq - a rescue operation in thailand

hey hillary we're not trying to tell you anything but...

Sex Offender Registries.

The other day I surfed over to the National Sex Offender Registry and looked up all the registered offenders in my neighborhood. There weren't many, and the ones that did show up weren't anything to get excited about, but it presented me with a very valid question. Why do sex offenders have to register? I mean if they're on parole, then they have to keep the police up to date on their addresses, so why do we the general public need to know their whereabouts? And I'm not suggesting Megan's Law is a bad thing, I just see two fundamental flaws in the idea.

First, let's say I suddenly had two neighbors move in at the same time, one on each side of me. Neighbor-A on my left raped a child ten years ago, and thus shortly after setting down his couch, proceeds to knock on my door and inform me he's a diaper sniper. Of course I go up in arms, and with the assistance of my fellow neighbors, make his life a living hell and drive him out of the neighborhood despite the fact that he was a quiet person who kept to himself. Meanwhile, Neighbor-B on my right is absent from all this as he too remains quiet and keeps to himself. Because what we don't know is ten years ago he didn't rape a child, he killed one. But since he's not required to register as a sex offender, as there's nothing sexual about slitting a little girl's throat and burying her in a cement filled fifty gallon drum, he continues to live in obscurity. Now I don't want to be Captain Obvious here, but of the two choices, wouldn't you consider a child murderer more of a threat than a child molester? I know some of you will point to statistics suggesting that sex offenders are more likely to repeat their crimes, and okay, I'm sure that's true. But let me ask you: would you rather live next to a rapist with a one-in-two chance of repeating his crime, or a murderer with a one-in-four chance of putting on an encore performance? If one were to rationalize that sexual offenders need to be kept tabs on because they might still be a danger to society, then why are they even on the streets to begin with? Keep their asses locked up if they're still considered dangerous. You wouldn't let a murderer out on parole if you thought he was still a danger to society, why do we do it with rapists and child molesters?

Second, the reason the murder doesn't have to register is, he's presumed to have paid his debt to society. He was convicted of a crime and sentenced to X-years of imprisonment and Y-years of parole. That was the punishment society deemed appropriate for his crime. And after paying his X+Y debt to society, he is considered a free man. He is not restricted as to where he can live, he is not required to inform his neighbors of his past misdeeds, nor is he required to notify the local police that he's living in their jurisdiction. And why stop there? Personally, I'd want to know if my new neighbor had been convicted for a string of home invasions, or auto thefts, or dealing crack, or beating up old people? Honest question, and I'm not being an asshole here -- why aren't their registries for these crimes? Sure the police can see an individual's criminal record, but there's no equivalent of a public sex offender registry for murderers. Well, the reason is these people have paid their X+Y debt to society, so they're considered square with the house again. Isn't that one of the basic fundamentals of our legal system? So at the risk of sounding like the limp wristed DA from the original Dirty Harry, why aren't the same standards applied to sex offenders? Again, an honest question I'm asking purely out of ignorance, so if you have an answer, lay it on me. I just don't understand why a child molester is treated worse than a child killer; or rather more to the point, why a child killer is treated less harshly than a child killer.

Oh, and this week's game challenge is to see if you can build a tower higher than my 601 meters. Remember to put EHOWA in your screen name when you submit your high score -- and you MUST submit your high score to the leaderboard to qualify!

history's worst software bugs. you mess with the cia, you get the bug.

ten photos from hiroshia, japan on august 7th, 1945 - you mess with the bull, you get the horns

nagasaki, japan on august 8th compared with august 10th, 1945 - you mess with the bull, you get the horns

Some Random Offensives.

What do you call a Puerto Rican midget? A spec.

Did you hear what the dyslexic Highway Patrolman did on New Year's? He spent the whole night handing out I.U.D.s

What do black people get when they pick their nose? Noogers.

One night at the dinner table, Jill commented, "When we were first married, you took the small piece of steak and gave me the larger. Now you take the large one and leave me the smaller. You don't love me any more!" "Nonsense, darling," replied John. "You just cook better now."

Although born to a Catholic family, Chester had always wanted to be Jewish. As a senior in college, he decided to take the plunge and go through the formal conversion process. He studied Judaism all semester. Finally, he felt he was ready to take the test and complete the conversion. On the appointed day, he arrived at the Rabbi's office, ready to begin. The Rabbi said, "I'm sorry, but before I give you the test, I must discuss my fee, It's $5,000." "$5,000!" exclaimed Chester, "That's a lot of money. How about $500?" "Congratulations, you pass." said the Rabbi.

Girl: Do you believe in puppy love? Boy: I tried it once, but their assholes are too small.

Two Iranians meet in Miami. One starts to greet the other in Farsi, the language of their native country.The other Iranian waved him away contemptuously and said, "We're in America now. Speak Spanish!"

What's the difference between a black guy and a letter? You can send a letter back where it came from.

"Doc, I can't stop singing 'The green, green grass of home.'" "That sounds like Tom Jones syndrome." "Is it common?" "It's not unusual."

If God didn't intend for us to have oral sex, why are penises shaped like hotdogs and vaginas like tacos?

Mr. and Mrs. Cload came before the judge for their divorce hearing. The judge asked, "What are the grounds?" Mrs. Cload replied, "Cruel and inhuman punishment, your Honor. He tied me to the bed and then forced me to sing "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" while he pissed all over me." The judge shuddered and said, "Good God, that's disgusting!" "Damn right, your Honor," Mrs. Cload yelled. "He knows how much I hate that fucking song!"

Went to the sex shop the other day and bought a Palestinian sex doll. When I got it home, it blew itself up.

Why does a dog lick his ass? Because he knows he will be licking your face in about 5 minutes.

everlast (whitey ford) squares off with eminem in this classic rap battle.

which tech ceo earned just $1 in 2007? who raked in $74 million before retiring? ceo fat cats...

How I Celebrated My Birthday.

12:12am (concluding activities from the previous Friday) - Sursfide Cadillacs win $790 for coming in at 7th place.

12:20am - During "Fun Night" at bowling I bowl a perfect 300 during a game of "9 pin no-tap" -- don't worry I'm not quite that cool, 9-pin is when 9's count as strikes so everyone looks like ahero.

12:30am - My "perfect" 300 wins me an additional $40 prize money. I am the Best Bowler In The World (BBITW).

12:45am - I place the envelope with $400 in prize money in my pack pocket.

12:50am - I drink my seven hundredth shot of Jack Daniels.

12:55am - The Surfside Cadillacs leave for a victory breakfast at Perkins.

01:00am - We arrive at Perkins and are seated immediately because we are the Surfside Cadillacs.

01:05am - I order an Everything Omlette.

01:10am - My Everything Omlette arrives.

01:11am - My Everything Omlette is eaten.

01:30am - We pay the bill.

01:45am - Dropped off at home.

01:50am - Begin a movie. What movie? I dunno.

03:45am - Movie ends. How was the movie? I dunno.

08:15am - Wake up.

08:20am - Realize that I can't find my envelope with the $400+ in prize money.

08:21am - Begin to tear my fucking house upside down while searching for said envelope.

09:00am - The envelope is officially declared 'Lost at sea'.

10:10am - Buy six big motherfucking steaks for cookout later.

17:10pm - Put six big motherfucking steaks on the grill. Burners set on low.

17:30pm - Flip six big motherfucking steaks. First side is absolutely perfect.

17:40pm - Check on six big motherfucking steaks. All is going well.

17:41pm - Turn my back in six big motherfucking steaks.

17:42pm - There is a huge 4 alarm fire in my grill. On all four sides, flames are rolling up from under the cover. I lift the cover. It's a Backdraft.

17:43pm - I manage to pull the six big motherfucking steaks from the grill. They look like that Iraqi soldier who got caught ont he Highway of Death in Basra, only withot the dumb look on his face.

17:45pm - The six big motherfucking steaks are somewhat salvagable, but still a far cry of their former glory.

21:00pm - Fuck this, I'm going to bed.

private first class monica brown - i bet her balls are bigger than yours.

here is a collection of some popular misconceptions and our explanations to help clear the air

the diary of a sensitive lover - yes my dear, any four things off the dollar menu.

Insert Your Favorite Birthday Weekend Joke Here.

everyonewantsacleanass - ironmanfan - moredogsoncycles - passthetequila - sonneedssalvation - tankvscar - youngpitbull

thinking of trading-in that suv for a fuel efficient sedan? good luck!

It's A Birthday Bonanza.

balltotheballs - blondiesstripping - canyouhearmenow2 - cautionunevensidewalk - cnnpriorities - dickgoeshunting

three things we learned from the accidental u.s. nuke flyby

What Brings May Flowers?

I was on my motorcycle yesterday and had a person cut me off for the first time. The driver was a soccermom in an SUV (what else?) trying to get over into the right lane and so she could pull into the Hoolihans parking lot on Cape Coral Parkway. In all honesty, it wasn't that bad. And to tell you the truth, it kind of reminded me of driving in Boston. A single trip through the city during rush hour and the same thing will happen to you no less than three or four times. You kind of get jaded after awhile, and I've forgotten how exhilarating getting cut off can be. I felt alive, man! That's not to say I'm going to stop paying attention or drive any less defensively; quite the contrary. I think this new found danger will sharpen my driving skills back up to their previous glory, when I used to venture out into big city traffic and take my life into my hands five days a week. The thrill of battle! Kill or be killed! Every man is your enemy! Show no quarter! So to help get myself back in the spirit of Boston driving, I honked and flipped her and her kids off as I drove past. Pay attention, cunt.

Bond with your animals and help the gasoline crisis - ride the scooter for two. I notice the dog has sunglasses on, but where's his fucking helmet, eh? By the way, you'd think that was a pretty rare event, but low and behold, you'd be wrong.

when a good time turns around, you must whip it. you will never live it down, unless you whip it. no one gets their way, until they whip it. whip it good.

so uh, what's the price of a pint of beer in your country? if it's cheaper than $4.20, you'd better make me a bed.