Hey, Lil' Wayne

You too, Kanye West.

Put that God damn Autotuner away.

Yeah, it was pretty cool at first when you took T-Pain's gimmick and used it on a song. I chuckled a bit. I said, hey, this is pretty sweet. Surprised no one else has done this yet. You, sir, are an innovator.

Unfortunately, now I just think you are annoying. At least turn the damn thing down...it's taking over your songs. It makes me not want to listen to them, and that's really no way to go about getting people to listen to your songs. That "I Can't Believe It" song with the aforementioned T-Pain? You completely ruined it. I can't listen to the end of that partial-birth abortion of a song. It's like you declared jihad on my ears. Actually, jihad on my face. Because my entire face hurts when you do things like that. It's like molding some annoying, retarded steel into balls and being teabagged with them.

So put down the damn Autotuners, gentlemen. You first, Wayne, and then the rest will follow. And if your "daddy" Birdman does it again like he did in that stupid Shawty Lo remix, you will all be drowned in the tears of orphans. Because they cry when you make these songs.

Argument that chaps my balls IV

Joe Montana just wants to air that NERF out. He wants to go deep.

And maybe it will get him another ring! That would logically make him the greatest football player ever and surely better than Dan Marino, right? I mean, Dan Marino never won any rings. Joe Montana was like Saturn compared to Marino. Forget that there were 20 other guys making big impacts on the games and none of Marino's were named Lott, Rice, Taylor, Craig, or Norton. Or...well, maybe they were, but they weren't as good as the ones Montana had. Point is...fuck this argument long and hard like you found it drunkenly wandering around your front yard at 4 am. And then tell it to leave once it sobers up.

Montana was good...real good. I mean, he had rings. But do you know who had more rings? No, I'm not thinking Charles Haley. Keep guessing...


Yep. That's right...Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Sonic had more rings than any of these cockflossers, and it wasn't even close. That means he was the greatest...I mean, it's simple. Look at the rings. Since rings settle all arguments on how good a player was, it logically follows that:

- PBR is the best beer you will ever drink because it won a blue ribbon in 1896.

- The Olympics are faster than Audis because they have more rings in their logo.

- Ringpops are better than blowpops because they come on a ring, regardless of how incredibly gay they are. Really, if you are gayer than something called a "blowpop", well...you are pretty damn gay.

- My phone is better than your phone because I have more ringtones.

- Your cat, even if it has feline AIDS, is better than Magic Johnson. Because your cat has ringworm.

- Rafeal Belliard won a World Series once. Damn straight I'll take him over Ernie Banks!

- The only song better than "Ring Around the Rosey" is Dr. Dre's "Keep Their Heads Ringin'". No other song is even close.

- Giving your wife a wedding ring makes her a better quarterback than Dan Marino.

I hate this stupid argument in a team sport. There are so many factors that go into this argument that you can't just say "but he's got the rings" to say you'd rather have Troy Aikman or Derek Jeter as opposed to someone else who is obviously statistically superior but spent his entire career toiling for the Nebraska Fucklizards. Unless, of course, you are a highly paid TV "expert", in which you can feel free to fall back on this argument without any reprocussion from folks who "didn't play the game" because they didn't have the "heart" and "natural athletic ability" and "access to loads of PEDs". But don't think that you aren't chapping my balls harder than a dry shave with a 2-month old razor.

Fuck it. I'm going to write a book.

Yep. A coffee-table style book. To put on your coffee table. Or the dirty broken down table in your meth lab that you set the HCl on while cleaning out your cookware. And I have an idea for it, too. Kind of.

It's going to be the world's first drunken novel.

Now, before you say, "oh, Hemingway used to write while he was drunk", or, "omg, Thoreau used to do Jack shots between paragraphs", know that I don't mean a little sauced up. Or with a little bit of a buzz. I'm talking like 3 am instant message style hammered. Every time I get back from a particularly strong night about the town, I will start writing about whatever I feel like writing about. Then, as I start to sober up, I'll stop and resume on the next crunkadelic evening. I'll probably have to think of a semblance of a story line at the beginning so I have something to go on, but those are just minor details. Maybe it will be about a family of centaurs battling over their centaur daughter's decision to abort a centaur fetus that she got fucked into her by a homeless centaur one night while trying to score some centaur drugs (like flour...centaurs get FUCKED UP by flour). In the end, the family of centaurs decides to accept their daughter's decision until she reverses her decision and has the centaur baby only to have it turn out to be gay and now everybody's confused again. The centaurs then decide to go out for ice cream and end up lost in the Alaskan wilderness just like that dumbass dude who did just that in that Into the Wild movie or whatever it was called. Centaurs are freaking idiots.

So, we'll see how this goes. I'll probably start it up sometime after Thanksgiving and review it the next day. It will be a collection of drunken stories...fuck centaurs. I think I'm going to call it "Heeeeyyyyyyyyyyy". And the title is going to have a red squiggly line underneath it.

Forget about the dicks today and be heard

Greetings, Floridians, from Governor Charlie Crist. Today marks a huge day in our nation's democratic tradition...our voting day. And regardless of whom you are voting for, it is essential that you forget about the dicks today and cast your vote.

Please, I urge you all...ignore the dicks for one day and get to the polls. Have your voice be heard. Keep the gears of democracy well-oiled and in motion. Forget about the dicks. Trust me, after you have returned from the polls with that good feeling that you just voiced your opinions to the country, a country in which your opinion carries just as much weight as everybody else's, that post-vote dick is going to taste like heaven. I fully expect you all to go straight to the dicks after you vote. I myself will be guzzling more dick than the Houston 500 Gangbang after making my choices, enjoying every single drop of well-earned sperm that I can vacuum out of those dicks with my mouth. But first, we have a decision to make.

This election comes at a time in which the pillars of our nation are beginning to show some stress. A time in which we need to be sure to elect a leader with the strength and courage to restore the balance of these pillars and perpetuate the growth of our nation as we aim to stay in our rightful position as the world's beacon of freedom and prosperity. This is not a time to worry about dicks. Trust me, Florida, tonight we will exhibit our freedoms to all of the eyes that are upon us by frotting like rockstars as we tangle our dicks together in celebration of our nation and everything it was founded on. I will have so many balls in my mouth tonight that my dog would be jealous. But first, my country calls upon me. And your country calls upon you. Carry out your civic duty now. The dicks can wait.

Please, Florida, heed my messages. Get out there and vote. Get out there and make your voice heard...the voice that this great nation gives you. This is the greatest nation in the world, the only place where citizens are truly equal and truly share the same rights and privileges. And while the dick is one of these rights, and a very important one at that, voting is an even greater task to take on than even the biggest of big swinging dicks. So I urge you, get out there and vote. The dicks can wait.

Shady?

I just got back from taking on the polls earlier (lololol), and while the experience wasn't bad, it was kind of shady getting there. The local polling station was inside of a trailer park with a front gate that just happened to be down, just like the picture above. No signs, no nothing before the gate. The person ahead of me turned around, and so did I. Then I thought...no, that can't be right, and turned back around. A lady in the booth will then let you in. Not a hassle or anything, but it...just seemed a bit shady. I'm skeptical, and I'm not usually one for these kinds of theories.

The people voting at this location were those that lived in my apt. complex, and those that lived in the trailer park complex. Judging from the signs and things I heard from the people (one older lady told another older lady that she was moving to "coal country", to which the other lady excitedly remarked "Palin country!", and the other old lady was like...no, coal country), the 55+ trailer park tilted to the right. My apartment complex, however, is mostly young people and college students. I'm just guessing that we would tilt left, although I have nothing else to base this on (there are no political signs in my complex, so it could be that you either aren't allowed to display them or people just don't give a fuck).

Now, the most likely scenario is that this was coincidental that the gates were down and hypothetical there were potential Republican voters inside and Democratic voters coming in. They could have just not thought anything of it since the gates are down everyday (having the polls in a gated community is kind of shady in itself, though). But...couldn't they have just left the gates up today? Or put a sign on the way to the gates? Just seems like they will end up keeping a few people out, and my gut feeling is that someone made these decisions on purpose.

Am I crazy? Or maybe just wrong?

Big game tonight

Oh, The Bus...known for his propensity to Aryan-step it into the end zone.

I am not a fan of Sunday night football games. I gotta wake up early on Monday, and staying up until 12:30 is not a good way to begin my week. Plus, if the Steelers lose, it's even worse. It's like staying up late to get back positive results on an HIV test. Not positive as in good, I mean positive as in yes, you fucking have AIDS. Here, take 382 of these pills and call me in the morning.

But, Monday nighters? The balls. I'll certainly stay up late on a Monday night in return for the feeling I have at work of actually looking forward to something on Monday. I used to have it last summer in my softball league, but the organizers for that team kind of fell off and no one picked up the ball this year. They Ike Taylored the ball. Just dropped it. Even though it hit them right in the chest, just like a pearl necklace.

And tonight, the Steelers face the Redskins in a match that will not determine the presidency, just some positions in the NFL standings. Seriously, if I hear another person mention the whole incumbent party-Redskins win/loss thing again I'm going to hit them. And if it's a woman, I'm going to knock her up, wait nine months, and then yell at her child until it cries. Yes, little guy, daddy doesn't really love you. He just hatefucked your mom because she said something stupid. Learn to live with that.

Forget that the Packers beat the Redskins in 2004 and Bush beat Kerry. That is inconvenient to the people who apparently forget this and want spout that retardedness. I'm trying to watch a football game. And I sure as fuckbaskets don't want to see some stupid debate at halftime with Chris fucking Berman moderating. Imagine if not only was your entire family killed by savage bears, but Chris Berman was standing 20 feet away in a booth doing play by play. That's gotta be at least one and a half times worse, which is really saying something since your entire family was just killed by fucking bears.

So, I'm going to ignore that and focus on the Steelers finally treating Roethlisberger like a responsible man treats his penis before banging a toothless prostitute and giving him some protection. And then hopefully some receivers will run some shorter routes and get open for Ben to throw to. And hopefully he'll do that instead of taking all of these sacks. However, and please help me out on this....whenever he takes a sack in the pocket and someone yells "throw it away!"...hit them. Seriously. Yell at them. Tell them they should have been aborted. Tell them that Obama can gladly tax you extra if he plans on putting the money into a government sponsored abortion program that strongly encourages abortions for people like them. You can't throw it away from inside the pocket! God damn, Bruce. If I am to remain a fully dedicated citizen of Arians Nation then I'm going to need you to dial up some more rollouts and things of that nature. Large Benjamin standing in the pocket like a statue is not going to get it done, as we've seen time and time again. He's just going to freak out and run straight ahead into a defensive lineman, anyway. HARF HARF HARF, as Christmas Ape from KSK would say. Ben has been making some harferiffic plays this year...but I think he'll turn it around, starting tonight.

Steelers by 45.

You guys are sucking dick out there!

Man, we are getting destroyed out there. I hope coach doesn't do anything crazy again this week.

HOLY FUCK MEN, THAT WAS AN EMBARRASSING DISPLAY OF FOOTBALL!!! I'VE NEVER PLAYED WITH A TEAM OF SUCH FUCK-UPS AS YOURSELVES!!! YOU SHOULD ALL BE ASHAMED OF THAT PERFORMANCE!!!


Coach, we're trying as hard as we can out there.


SHUT THE FUCK UP, VERNON! WHY ARE YOU EVEN IN THIS LEAGUE? I WOULD RATHER PLAY WITH 10 GUYS OUT THERE THAN PUT YOU ON THE FIELD! I WOULD RATHER HAVE A ROSTER FULL OF WHITE RUNNING BACKS THAN HAVE YOUR WORTHLESS ASS ON THIS ROSTER! I COULD REPLACE YOU WITH A CLOTH DOLL STUFFED WITH JEFF GARCIA'S BRIGHT RED PUBES AND WE'D BE A BETTER FUCKING FOOTBALL TEAM THAN WE ARE WITH YOU!!!!

Holy fuck, coach!


Frank, come up here.

Oh, fuck me.


Frank, stand right there. Now take off your pants.

No, man! I'm not going to take my pants off!


TAKE THEM OFF!!!!

*attempts to take off Frank Gore's pants*

COACH!


TAKE THEM OFF!!!!

*succeeds in getting Frank Gore's pants off*

YOU GUYS ARE SUCKING DICK OUT THERE!

*put's Frank Gore's penis in his mouth, begins blowing Frank Gore*

COACH WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?????


*mumbles with Frank Gore's dick in his mouth*

..mmmyouguysmmm...mmyouguysmmmaremm..

...mmmSUCKINGDICKOUTTHEREmmmmm!!!

...mmmyouneedmmmm...mmmtostopplayingmmm...

...mmmLIKEABUNCHOFFAGSOUTTHEREmmmm!!!

FUCKING STOP IT COACH!!!!


...mmmmYOUALLFUCKINGmmmmSUCKDICKmmmm!!!!!!

Coach, why are you so good at this?

*ejaculates into Mike Singletary's mouth*


...mmmmBLOWYOURLOADGOREmmmmmm!!!

*wipes off mouth*

I ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE A FUCKING FAGGOT GORE!!!!

NOW GET OUT THERE AND STOP SUCKING DICK!!!!

*....speechless...*

Oh snap, I gotta play dress ups

Oh snap y'all, it's Halloweens today. Time to get lost in the act of pretending to be someone else (no, not like that dude who was arrested for impersonating Brian St. Pierre). But what am I going to dress up as? I usually like to do something strange and uncommon.

Last year, I started hitting the sauce early and was kind of out of it by 4 o'clock. So, I kind of missed the "go get a costume" part of things. I had to think quick right before we left...and so I took the hose attachment from the vacuum cleaner and carried it around with a tag on my shirt that read "FREE ABORTIONS!". That went over realllll well, let me tell you.

This year, I really haven't had too much time to formulate a costume nor the expendable scratch to buy the pieces for it. As soon as my money comes in right now, it goes out to bills. And those bills do not include Spiderman masks. So, I had come up with a few ideas.

- A pube. How would I pull off being a pube, you ask? I really have no idea. I guess I would paint my face black, wear all black, and find some black curly thing to wear on my head. Not too many people thought this was a good idea. I think it it's the best idea I've ever had in my life, and that's saying something as I was the guy who told John Holmes that he might want to get some HIV tests done before he started doing gay porns. Best "I told you so" in my life, even if he was too dead-from-AIDS to hear it. Anyway, I might still end up doing this one tomorrow (two days of costuming coming up).

- A Chrysler Town and Country. Yes, a minivan. No, I have no idea how. All I know is it would be awesome and there would be no chance of showing up and having to say "fuck, Diane, you are a Chrysler Town and Country too?". If I had a good amount of dollars laying around, I might try this. But even then I have no idea how I'd do it. Maybe I'll just drive one into the living room.

- Someone in blackface. Blackface is awesome in every circumstance. I could be Mike Tyson, or Stevie Wonder, or even MLK Jr.!!! If I get some African-American paint, I might do Tyson. That would be easy. Plus, I could ask every woman there if they want to perform Horatio on me.

I got nothing this year. I'm going to have to do the pube idea.

WTF is this gay thing?

What the hell? I can't be the only one who has seen these abominations of gayness out on the streets. Chrysler PT Cruisers with matching tow things on the back. Unreal gayness, even for a PT Cruiser, which was apparently named for the act of cruising public restrooms for gay sex.

This is potentially the gayest thing I've ever seen, and I know gayness. I live in South Florida, one of the gay Meccas of the country. So don't tell me I don't know gayness.

I was once offered $100 from an older Dominican gentlemen just to allow him the privilege of giving me a BJ. I know gayness.

I was also offered a job in Jacksonville stripping at a gay bar after my car broke down. Why, pray tell, was I at a gay bar? Ok, I'll tell you.

During my move from Pittsburgh to Ft. Lauderdale in the beautiful beige '92 Buick LeSabre without air conditioning, the beast predictably broke down in Jacksonville. Or, as an NFL analyst would put it, "the Buick was out with a fuel pump". I knew one person between North Carolina and Lauderdale, and she just happened to live in Jacksonville. She had since gone all lesbian, and I was pretty much just hanging with her and her lesbian friends. Who were awesome lesbians, by the way. Anyway, we went to a "gay-friendly" bar the first night, which was awesome. It was some straight women and gay dudes. The women were excited that I liked the vagina! They let me touch their tits and everything just to prove that I like tits. A few said, "my gay friends do that, too". I offered to show them further that I was not a gay, but alas, it did not get me any easy BJs behind the bar.

The next night, we went to a straight up gay bar for lesbian night. It was called "In Cahoots" and had a big ass rainbow right on the wall. They told me beforehand that it was like straight up gay, but what the hell am I gonna do? Sure, I'll go. It's lesbian night anyway, right? So we went to this gay ass bar. Got in to the sight of shirtless bartenders begging to mix up an appletini or two for me, but not too bad. Plus, as it was lesbian night, there were some dancers working who were...let's just say they were barely clothed. And dancing provocatively. So it wasn't too bad. Of course, there's certainly more to it than that.

There was a group of gay dudes there at the other side of one of the bars who finally by the end of the night sent a gay ambassador over to me and the lesbians (sounds like a band name) to ask the $64,000 question. "Yo, we need to know. Are you gay? Consensus is you're gay". Damn, man, do I look gay? LISTEN TO THE DEPTH OF THIS VOICE!!!! No, dude, sorry, I'm not gay. I wasn't offended. I mean, I'm in a fucking gay bar with a bunch of lesbians. Of course people should assume I like to taste frenulums. Sweet. Shortly thereafter, one of the lesbian dancers who actually claimed to be bisexual but apparently wasn't in the mood to act as a cock hangar that night came over and told me to come with her to the bar. Apparently gay bartender in charge liked what he saw and asked me if I wanted to dance at the bar on gay nights. They all claimed that I would make a lot of money...uhhh, have you ever seen me dance? I dance like Mormons fuck...very rigidly and only if I am sure nobody is watching. And plus, I saw the chicks dancing with the lesbians in attendance and it was...provocative to say the least. So no, I'm sorry, aside from the fact that I don't live here, I can't put my balls in some dudes face for $3 and pretend to enjoy it.

So don't tell me I don't know gayness.

Point is, none of this stuff is gayer than the PT Cruiser trailer things.

The trailers are gayer than two dudes wrapping their cocks together on a bed of cotton candy.

They are gayer than a chick touching herself to a mental image of Ellen Degeneres riding a pony and singing Melissa Etheridge songs.

They are gayer than a dude taking money shots while vacuuming his living room and humming Bee-Gees tunes.

There really isn't anything I've ever seen that is gayer than these cars and their tow-pieces. And that really is saying something.

Courtesy rage

By the way, FDot, thanks for the advanced heads up to the "upcoming" traffic.

We've all heard of road rage, and road rage sucks. Violence usually ends up bad when people aren't controlling 2-ton machines going 50 mph, but when you add in the cars you can get some pretty dangerous results. Plus, you look like a douchebag when you tailgate someone, beep your horn repeatedly, and yell through your windshield. I hate road rage.

However, I realized yesterday that I am prone to courtesy rage. You know, you are sitting on the highway, someone is trying to merge and you are like...ok, I'll let this guy merge. And you wave, and say "go ahead", and the dude just sits there with his blinker on. So you keep waving, and he doesn't go over, and 30 seconds later you find yourself screaming at this fucking idiot to fucking merge so HE CAN GET OFF OF THE MOTHERFUCKING EXIT HURRY THE FUCK UP!!!!!!

I do this on regular streets when people are trying to make lefts or get out of parking lots as well. Quite often. WOULD YOU FUCKERS GO!?!?!?! God damn it I'm trying to be nice here, retards. So stop drinking your juice and freaking go while I'm giving you the chance. Or else I'm really going to get pissed.

Argument that chaps my balls part III

You are looking at two guys who just win games.

It's that simple. If there's a game, and it's not between two guys who just win, then the guy who just wins is simply going to just win. It doesn't matter what game it is. You get Steve McNair up against Ken Jennings in Jeopardy and I'm picking McNair every time. Fact is, he just wins games.

Before Vince Young got sad, he too was labeled as a guy who just won games. He threw about 9 more INTs than TDs last season, but guess what...his team won games! Forget the other 21 guys on the field, this was Vince Young's doing and Vince Young's alone. Vince willed his team to victory before crying himself to sleep later in the evenings.

Forget that they had a sick defense and a so-so schedule last year and still only went 9-7, good enough for "average".

Ignore completely that a guy like Kerry motherfreaking Collins has lead said team to a 7-0 record this year (albeit against a similarly questionable sked...but they did just beat the Colts).

Just remember that Vince Young wins games. This is all that is important.

Thus, according to the transitive property of retardation that states that if a=b, and b=c, then make a bunch of stupid jokes, it must follow that the latter are all true:

- Microsoft just wins operating systems...forget that they come bundled with everything you buy.

- Kordell Stewart just wins the hearts of gay men everywhere, regardless of the fact that they probably would have blown anybody.

- AT&T just wins wireless networks, regardless of what iPhones have done for them.

- John Mark Karr just gets the chicks...ignore the fact that she was 7.

- Jon Benet Ramsey just wins beauty pageants. I have no idea where I'm going with this one.

- Ben Roethlisberger justs manages games...don't bother actually watching them.

- All of the guys who won more games than Vince Young don't just win games, because only a few guys can just win games or else everybody would just win games and there would be no point in continuing to have games.

- Toni Braxton just unbreaks hearts. You heard the lyrics.

- OJ Simpson just gets his stuff back...disregard the life sentence he's going to get for it.

Next person to suggest to me that someone "just wins" wins a money shot to their face.

Coach, I'm just sad

*steps into easy sack*


VINCE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING! You can't just take easy sacks like that! You had Gage underneath as a safety route, and you didn't even look at him!


Coach, I tried...I mean, I kind of looked over a little but...fuck it, coach. I'm just sad.


You're sad? Vince, what are you talking about? Do you need another positive peptalk?


Coach, the peptalks just aren't getting it done anymore. I feel kind of sad that you didn't know I was sad. I'm sadder now. Don't you even check my Myspace page anymore? I'm considering a change to "melancholy".



Vince, I'm sorry. I have been pretty busy lately gameplanning and breaking down our opponents to check up on your Myspace....and please, Vince, you have to stop changing into the Texas uniform every time you get sad.


But coach, they loved me there! I felt whole. I need to feel whole again. Everybody cheered when I stepped on to the field.


I know, Vince, but you can't go back. You are a professional now. You make a king's ransom to play this game. Quite a pretty penny indeed.


Young drops back, fires to Limas Sweed along the sidelines...touchdown! Touchdown Longhorns! The crowd goes wild!!!! They love Vince Young here!!!!!

*runs around the sidelines in faux celebration*


VINCE! Stop daydreaming! You are not at Texas anymore! Now can I count on you to get out there and just win games?


...I guess. Where's my helmet...and my Titans uniform. Ok. What are we going to run here? I need to...fuck it, coach, I just don't care. I'm too sad. I'm gonna go over and drink some Gatorades.



God fucking damn it!!!! Where's Collins?