What the fuck is it with South Africa?
Friday, February 13, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
What not to call your movie theater
Even if it is a porn theater. Which this Cape Town movie house is not.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Scientifical Gay Test (For Males)
if this champion's breakfast doesn't send your boner through your desk like a breaching whale, you're gay.
simple.
simple.
yo man fuck Kellogg's
word is they've cancelled phelps's contract. dropped him as sponsor. i haven't checked yet whether speedo plans to dump him. fuck knows any dude likely to buy a banana hammock would prefer to buy one from a ripped young dude who smokes weed. gay dudes fucken love to party. and we have to ask the geniuses in Battle Creek, home to Kellogg's HQ: who eats cereal more than the stoner demographic? pound for pound, motherfuckers out-consume their square counterparts by a factor of seventeen. so it's not like marketers need any more evidence that drugs are awesome for business.
and yet here (below) we have brand-new evidence, thoughtfully delivered by God hisself in mankind's dark hour of drug-hostile posturing, that proves beyond question the positive influence of drugs in our world and on our children. this fresh footage raises questions like, If drugs are so awful, why's this video only like the most awesomest and popular thing on the internet besides my blog? is this video watching itself? yeah, didn't think you'd have a snappy answer, Mr. Kellogg's. keep shutting up your dumb face.
and yet here (below) we have brand-new evidence, thoughtfully delivered by God hisself in mankind's dark hour of drug-hostile posturing, that proves beyond question the positive influence of drugs in our world and on our children. this fresh footage raises questions like, If drugs are so awful, why's this video only like the most awesomest and popular thing on the internet besides my blog? is this video watching itself? yeah, didn't think you'd have a snappy answer, Mr. Kellogg's. keep shutting up your dumb face.
How Do You Solve A Problem Like Michael?
ohmygod. ohmygod. the shock. the outrage.
in addition to a shit ton of fake indignation, the above photo instigated the following email conversation:
POINT: Michael Phelps....dummy.
COUNTERPOINT: I respectfully disagree. The kid’s from Baltimore. In B-town we have a strong tradition of character-building thru testing one’s own physical limits, a cornerstone to which is one’s ability to take on alcohol and drugs. And I like what the bong photo says. It says, “Look how I can handicap myself and still beat your sorry assess.” The world, Americans especially, need to grow the fuck up. Enough with the ongoing mock outrage. Unless we want to be a nation of babies.
Well done, Michael.
COUNTERPOINT SUPPORT: I totally agree with you. Big deal. The "reporters" who spend their lives dredging up this crap have nothing to be proud of.
POINT: Well, the fact is that he might lose endorsement deals and future deals because of this picture. I agree that ripping his photos down from locker rooms is bullshit, but the guy is basically the only swimmer in the world who could ensure the financial security of his entire family forever by maintaining a certain public image. It ain't fair, but all the hard work is done and he should have rode the wave for a while before he cut loose. I know, he's a kid and bound to make mistakes, but this one cost him his job.
COUNTERPOINT: Yeah. Because everyone's gay. And agrees to prop up the phony outrage. And marketers are chickenshit. And everyone is gay.
COUNTERPOINT SUPPORT: Exactly.
MORE COUNTERPOINT SUPPORT: And really, what percent of those media faggs have never hit the binger?
POINT: I don't disagree with any of that. I'm just saying that the guy is a fuckin' idiot because he won the swimming lottery, should have know that they hired him for his image, and broke the contract by getting photographed taking a hit off a bong. I don't take a moral stand on any of that other than pointing out that he just gave away a meal ticket that may never come again.
COUNTERPOINT: I hear you. I think it highlights our idiocy as a people, not his idiocy.
POINT SUPPORT RE: “DUMMY”: Yea, great [photo] to have to explain to [my 4 boys].
COUNTERPOINT: “he’s smoking drugs, boys. People do a lot of things to alter their base mental state. You will too. But I want you to do it with extreme caution and with profound respect for the damage it can do. There are no drugs nor drink that aren’t dangerous, and they’ve ruined a lot of people’s lives. And now look what michael phelps did to his life with just this one silly act. Is his future something you would trade for that one experience of drugs?”
You’re welcome.
P.S.: the single greatest thing you can do to keep your kids away from drug problems is to talk to them about drugs. Fact. Even if in your talk you encourage them to do drugs. Talk about drugs with your kids prevents their developing drug problems by a precise and reliable percentage. My source for this: studies done by the Partnership for a Drug-Free America. Bottom line: if you don’t want your kids developing drug problems, you should thank phelps for introducing the opportunity to discuss drugs.
POINT FLOP: Well, you're right. We have definitely entered a stage at [our house] where they are getting exposed to all sorts of non-innocent parts of life. Sex, drugs, violence, mean people, whatever. So yea, we talked through it for sure. And you know, the Phelps thing really is just another opportunity for them to learn and get their brains around it.
INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW: Would they make anything out of it in Europe or just let it go?
CORRECT ANSWER: Europe could give a fuck and will laugh at America's feigned outrage, prudishness, and hypocrisy. (addendum: although England could prove me wrong.)
CONCLUSION: Let the kid smoke weed. Let him pawn his gold medals to buy a giant flat-screen, XBOX 360, and a Vertu phone with Dominos on speed dial. And let the rest of us roll a fatso, crank Acid King’s album “III,” and pass that shit around. And mind our own fucking business. Except to admire michael’s sweet-ass watch. That shit is TIGHT.
"INHALE, CLINTON!"
in addition to a shit ton of fake indignation, the above photo instigated the following email conversation:
POINT: Michael Phelps....dummy.
COUNTERPOINT: I respectfully disagree. The kid’s from Baltimore. In B-town we have a strong tradition of character-building thru testing one’s own physical limits, a cornerstone to which is one’s ability to take on alcohol and drugs. And I like what the bong photo says. It says, “Look how I can handicap myself and still beat your sorry assess.” The world, Americans especially, need to grow the fuck up. Enough with the ongoing mock outrage. Unless we want to be a nation of babies.
Well done, Michael.
COUNTERPOINT SUPPORT: I totally agree with you. Big deal. The "reporters" who spend their lives dredging up this crap have nothing to be proud of.
POINT: Well, the fact is that he might lose endorsement deals and future deals because of this picture. I agree that ripping his photos down from locker rooms is bullshit, but the guy is basically the only swimmer in the world who could ensure the financial security of his entire family forever by maintaining a certain public image. It ain't fair, but all the hard work is done and he should have rode the wave for a while before he cut loose. I know, he's a kid and bound to make mistakes, but this one cost him his job.
COUNTERPOINT: Yeah. Because everyone's gay. And agrees to prop up the phony outrage. And marketers are chickenshit. And everyone is gay.
COUNTERPOINT SUPPORT: Exactly.
MORE COUNTERPOINT SUPPORT: And really, what percent of those media faggs have never hit the binger?
POINT: I don't disagree with any of that. I'm just saying that the guy is a fuckin' idiot because he won the swimming lottery, should have know that they hired him for his image, and broke the contract by getting photographed taking a hit off a bong. I don't take a moral stand on any of that other than pointing out that he just gave away a meal ticket that may never come again.
COUNTERPOINT: I hear you. I think it highlights our idiocy as a people, not his idiocy.
POINT SUPPORT RE: “DUMMY”: Yea, great [photo] to have to explain to [my 4 boys].
COUNTERPOINT: “he’s smoking drugs, boys. People do a lot of things to alter their base mental state. You will too. But I want you to do it with extreme caution and with profound respect for the damage it can do. There are no drugs nor drink that aren’t dangerous, and they’ve ruined a lot of people’s lives. And now look what michael phelps did to his life with just this one silly act. Is his future something you would trade for that one experience of drugs?”
You’re welcome.
P.S.: the single greatest thing you can do to keep your kids away from drug problems is to talk to them about drugs. Fact. Even if in your talk you encourage them to do drugs. Talk about drugs with your kids prevents their developing drug problems by a precise and reliable percentage. My source for this: studies done by the Partnership for a Drug-Free America. Bottom line: if you don’t want your kids developing drug problems, you should thank phelps for introducing the opportunity to discuss drugs.
POINT FLOP: Well, you're right. We have definitely entered a stage at [our house] where they are getting exposed to all sorts of non-innocent parts of life. Sex, drugs, violence, mean people, whatever. So yea, we talked through it for sure. And you know, the Phelps thing really is just another opportunity for them to learn and get their brains around it.
INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW: Would they make anything out of it in Europe or just let it go?
CORRECT ANSWER: Europe could give a fuck and will laugh at America's feigned outrage, prudishness, and hypocrisy. (addendum: although England could prove me wrong.)
CONCLUSION: Let the kid smoke weed. Let him pawn his gold medals to buy a giant flat-screen, XBOX 360, and a Vertu phone with Dominos on speed dial. And let the rest of us roll a fatso, crank Acid King’s album “III,” and pass that shit around. And mind our own fucking business. Except to admire michael’s sweet-ass watch. That shit is TIGHT.
"INHALE, CLINTON!"
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Slipping
I don’t want anyone getting worried. I’m not totally losing it; not asking people ‘what’s your name again?’ five times in five minutes. People such as my sisters. Precisely because my brain is so sharp I want to prepare, right here, for the inevitable decline.
And yet...and yet...there is mounting evidence for concern. For example, I’ve started using ellipses. Just two sentences ago. Which for any writer not named Louis-Ferdinand Céline is pretty much a gateway drug to some shitty, sloppy habits. Next I’ll be swapping its for it’s, writing ‘hopefully’ when I mean ‘I hope,’ and spreading infections like “at the end of the day;” an AIDS patient of letters forcing unprotected man love on your eyeballs. That ain’t me. Wait, what the fuck am I saying? You know this already. This is why you’re all up on my nuts, nominating me for the Nobel and whatnot. And I appreciate it.
What I’m trying to say is, because I’ve scared myself with recent Alzheimery moves (description to follow) I want to brace self and readership for the future while I’m still faster on the buzzer than every Jeopardy contestant. I want to make my intentions clear.
So, we all have shit we do every day, right? Behaviors we do so often our brain can calmly surrender their management to muscle memory. Brushing teeth. Walking. Finding mouth with beer can without taking eyes off game. I’d also file washing one’s hands in the workplace bathroom in the same category, and I’m sure you would too. I know you’re not Australian. You wash your hands after wringing out your filthy prod.
Here’s the problem. The other day I got a very basic hand-washing sequence entirely wrong. I turned on the water, squoze liquid soap into my hand, then immediately turned and started “drying” the soap off my hands with the towel. You could reasonably assume I got distracted by the mirror’s rendition of my handsomeness. If you looked like I do, you would too. Get distracted. And if you saw me drying straight soap off my hands, you’d probably go “Goddamm that dude’s handsome.” No big deal. But then I did it AGAIN. And in a different wrong sequence. I...shit, ellipses again...but...fuck. I can’t remember what I did. I think I...ok, I’m pretty sure I just turned on the water then grabbed the towel straight off, with dry hands.
So here’s what I’m saying, basically. Just to be clear. When the day comes, probably as early as my 45th year, that I need to sit in a wheelchair after naptime all bundled in a blanket and staring unfocussed past the autumn leaves, and I can basically only feed myself with food that fits through a straw, I want the nice lady pictured above spooning my applesauce.
That’s all I’m saying.
Me, her, applesauce.
I hope that’s clear.
Thank you in advance for sorting it.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
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