June 29, 2009

This has been one rough week, I’ll tell ya what. Pretty much every celebrity has died, and I don’t know if I can press on. It seems like every time I turn on my computer, the MSN homepage informs me that another one of my heroes has passed. This is why, I’ve decided to just make a porn site my new homepage. I have yet to decide on the lucky site, but I’ve narrowed it down. Any time someone dies, no matter how screwed up they are, it is sad. However, after attending the funeral of someone I knew, liked, respected, and worked with on a dialy basis, I do have to say. I could really give a shit about Farrah Fawcett. I know, she was at one time hot, and she has a kid, but come on, lets get a reality check. I know that at one time Michael Jackson may have been considered the coolest guy on the planet (before we found out the actual truth), but is it really that big of a deal? Had he never went down the whole “little kid ball tickling path” I might have respected him a whole lot more. About the time ‘Thriller’ came out he could have had any chick in the world, instead, he chose (allegedly) little boys. So I can’t say I’m too tore up about his passing. It’s sad for his kids, but did they really stand a chance any way? I can honestly say, finding out Billy Mays died, did really suck. That guy, though far less famous than Farrah, or MJ, was awesome. He seemed like a pretty cool dude. The kind of guy you could have a beer with, or borrow something to get a stain out of your clothes from. Plus, the way he went really hit hard. I always thought the whole “things in the overhead compartment may have shifted in flight thing” was just a way to get people to stay in their seats after landing. Now I know. So yes, I will miss Billy Mays, and that’s it. Maybe Dom Delouise, but really just Billy. He was one of my few hero’s. Maybe now, their really is a void in the promo-world, that I can fill. It was my dream after all. I think Billy would have wanted it that way. Then, I can truly endorse some of my finer ideas, like shitter in a box, and hooker-in-a-can.


It was almost as fun as it sounded. Like every other time I have been bitten  by a dog, this dog was slightly larger than some of my more impressive stools. And, like all the other times I’ve been attacked by dogs, I failed at setting the world Canine punting record. Although I did try.
For a long period of time, I had to go in and out of strangers houses, on a daily basis. This lead to seeing some really cool, and really not-cool stuff. It also lead to more than one run-ins with bastard dogs, who are trying to defend their turf. I stopped having to go into strangers houses for a while, but it did not last. Today, I went into a cigarrette smoke filled shit-pile with a little wiener dog/hell spawn. According to the homeowner, it was a mini-dauchsund. I always thought wiener dogs were already miniature, but I guess this one was slightly smaller. The lady made us go through this highly effective ritual, of me slowly “introducing” myself to the little bastard. She claimed it would show him I was friendly. I am not friendly, and none of her retarded actions could change this, and the little bastard dog saw right through it. The lady grabbed my hand, which in general is a no-no, and her skin looked like the dude from ‘Gold Member’s, except not hillarious. This kind of freaked me out, and I pulled my hand away, and kept from striking her as a defense mechanism. I was without my rape whistle, and couldn’t take any chances. She of course did not get the hint, and did it again, this time I let it go, and she slowly pulled my hand back up to pet the dog, who was vibrating with pent up rage, and flashing his little shit-head teeth. He of course, bit the shit out of my hand, just before I was about to ask if he bit. Question answered. She corrected him ever so slightly, and then told me he was very protective, and even scares away the larger neighbor dogs. After about 3 awkward minutes of me, pissed off dog, and crazy old lady staring at eachother, the dog whisperer decided it was cool to put him down. I was ready, and kicked him away as he lunged at my bare leg. Not hard, like a goalie would do when he was showing he was way too dominant to be scored on, rather dismisive. It came back, this time at the other leg. Since I still had my left leg in the air, I was wide open for the attack, and he got me again. So the crazy lady grabs her little doggie, talked to him in her “stern” baby talk voice, and held him there. All the while the devil dog was shooting me the “as soon as she puts me down, it’s on” look. Again, crazy lady puts down her little sweetie pie, who again, went right at me. I had my back to him, and he started going ape shit on the bottom of my shoe. He never got my skin on this attack, just the shoe. She grabbed him again, and I went on my way to look at what i was there for. On may way back out to the truck, she set him back down behind me, as I was walking away. This time he got me good, as I did not hear his little devil paws coming at me, and kind of thought the crazy lady had learned not to set the dog down. I was wrong. He got at least 3 little bastard teeth throught the skin. I did what my natural instinct told me to do. Use profanity, and kick the fucking dog. I got him pretty good this time. Good enough for him to think about coming back at me, for like 2 seconds, and then he came again. Crazy lady managed to intervene before I contracted rabies, or the dog went night-night for good. She said “maybe I should put him in the bedroom” Ya think? I never would have thought of that! When I came back inside a few minutes later, the demon dog was growling from behind a closed door, and trying to claw his way out. I kind of wanted the little shit-head to get out, as I was bleeding fairly decent, and had cleaned all the Wendy’s napkins out of my truck the day before. I wanted payback. I wanted to kill this dog. I kind of fantasized about the dog getting out, and me Morten Andersoning this dog into space. I even stepped off my drop steps in my head, to get perfect contact. He never got out. The lady looked at my leg, which was bleeding in at least 2 areas (not to mention my index finger that she pretty much stuck in his mouth) and she asked “did he do that?” Noooooooo. Once a month my legs bleed for 4-5 days. it means I’m going into manhood. I hate stupid people, really bad. I held back saying any one of the 2000 or so awesome things I wanted to say, and just said, yup, he got me. She apologized, and said he’s so protective, and makes her feel “safe”. This woman was roughly 65 years old, the size of a pile of ole beer kegs, and had some crazy skin condition, and was in her “house coat” at 2 in the afternoon. I really wanted to break the news to her nobody in their right mind was going to rape her, but it was Groveport OH, so who knows. I held back, finished my stuff, and went on my merry way. I would like to see that little dog in a dark alley some night.

On the way home, I saw something that made it all totally worth while. I am a huge fan of watching stupid people in action, and of irony. Both came together in perfect harmony. It was like the Haley’s comet of unfortunate irony. I may never see it again. There was a bunch of old furniture, and junk laying by the curb on main street, in lovely Groveport OH. and wait for it….. a dude with one leg (he had the metal peg leg thing) was sorting through the prized junk, and was holding up, and inspecting a chair with only 3 legs.

I tried to stop this

June 24, 2009

Thanks Dusty, or Bronson, or whomever is really the one behind letting Arroyo pitch tonight in Toronto, despite my warnings. You allowed me to turn the chanel to ESPN so I could devote my full attention to College baseball, which was far more competitive. I tried to help. I warned everyone, and even launched an AIDS scare, but you just wouldn’t listen. Bronson Arroyo did do a little better this time. He only gave up 6 earned runs, in just a shade over 3 innings. Considering he had given up 5 right out of the gate, he really was on a roll there in the “latter” innings. Either way, it’s still better that his last outing in Canada, and not as bad as the 17 run loss I predicted. Glad we got that out of our system.

I shall hereby be known as the real life Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. Or better yet, Dr. Phil, except not a bald southern douche bag, and actually more of a Dr. than Phil.
Just 24 hours ago, the fate of the Reds franchise slugger, 1st baseman Joey Votto, and the Reds season was in doubt. Then, I saved the day. When we all woke up Tuesday morning, nobody really knew what was going on with Mr. Votto. Redneck sports talk radio rumors from the ‘nati had covered every subject imaginable, and then some. Everyone had a theory, and most were getting spread pretty wild. Someone, who’s name rhymes with ‘Till’ even went so far as to spread a rumor about young Mr. Votto’s sexuality, and even full blown AIDs. This rumor was not only blasphemous, but it was grossly mis-spelled. When people say things like “Joey Votto’s boyfriend is dying of AIDS, and he thinks he might have AIDs” it makes the baby Jesus cry, and myself as well. Rumors are hurt-full, but also fun, like the one about Barry Sanders quitting the Lions to pursue a career molesting Malaysian boys, and Rich Rodriquez being a tranny. Anywho, no matter what the real reason was, I fixed everything. All I had to do is offer my unwavering support (which does make you kinda think about the whole gay thing, but I’m cool with that) and Joey Votto is healed. I go out, and buy some Tim Hortons Long Johns, and a couple jelly filled’s, and a 12 pack of Blue Light (with strangely small 11.5 oz. bottles) and young Joey is back in the lineup. I did it! I’ve saved the Reds season! Kind of. I still need to think of a way to keep Bronson Arroyo from giving up 38 runs against Toronto like he did last season, but it’s a start. So, like all true humanitarians, I do what needs to be done, have a few beers, brag about it online, and then move on. My next pet project, is to find a way to  stop bronson from pitching on Wednesday. Luckily, I scanned all the internets, and found this story, which is entirely true.

Playing Creed music, and eating JTM’s causes SUPER AIDS!
Recent science studies have shown that playing Creed music on your guitar for fat southern Ohio college chicks, and eating too many JTM’s will cause AIDS. Full blown Super AIDs, not the kind that magic Johnson has, but the kind people in Africa get, according to studies, and scientists. Scientists have also discovered that living on a boat ,and throwing curve balls will speed up the effects of the Super AIDs, as does having long douche hair. According to recent reports, the only way to stop the Super AIDs from killing you, is to not spend 2 consecutive days in Canadian cities such as Toronto. -Associated Press

Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve never been one to argue with Science studies, especially recent Science studies. If I were Bronson Arroyo, I’d totally go home, and not play Creed on my guitar, and eat JTM’s with fat UC sluts.
Looks like you’re starting tomorow Danny Ray!

Go Get ’em Redlegs!


It’s happening. Whatever curse is attached to Ohio sports as a whole (mainly Cleveland) is clawing away at my Redlegs. just when it looks like we got this thing right, it comes back, and bites us yet again.
Edinson Volquez, back from the DL to rescue us from another Homer bailey appearance, leaves before the 2nd inning is through, with numbness in his finger. Our all-star from last season, our Ace, the guy we traded Josh Hamilton for goes down first with back spasms, and now with numbness in his hand? He’s not fat, it can’t be a heart attack. So then what? pinched nerve? Swine Flu? We need this guy, and down he goes again. Sure the team keeps on winning, is still within striking distance of first place, but the bigger story is with our best player.

Joey Votto. First the flu, then dizziness, then the test after test with no answer, and finally the news it was just an inner ear infection. Now however, he is on the DL, the club has said it’s stress related to the ear infection, but the rumors are swarming. Some say he can’t handle the pressure of being the teams stud player. Some say other personal issues are at play, and some are saying he is the father of the octo-mom kids. Whatever it is, it’s killing me. Literally taking years off my life. We finally get a guy, a young guy, who is clearly the real deal, and could be the best player in baseball, and is already in the discussion, and now this happens. He can even hit left handers, which has been a violation of team rules for the last 10 or so years, and we may be loosing him.
I just want to go out and say, I’m there for you Joey. Whatever you need, I’ll take care of you. Someone to bring you breakfast, you got it. Want me to do your laundry? It’s done. Anything you need, it’s your’s. I’ll drink Canadian beer with you, I’ll bring you Tim Hortons whenever you want it, just please get better soon.
Other athletes have turned down my offers for assistance. Blue jackets Goalie Steve mason never responded to my offer to be his personal security guard/drinking buddy, and Delino Deshields recently turned down my offer to buy him a beer, but you can still benefit from my services. if you really have an ear infection, I have like 6 half used bottles of ear medicine left over from my sons several ear infection. They seemed to work for him. I can read you a story at night, and cook you chicken nuggets, something that also helped my son. If it is stress, relax. being the Reds best player isn’t all that stressfull. Reggie Sanders was once our best player, it’s really not that big of an honor. We do need you though, but take your time, get better. If you’re worried about letting us down, relax, this is Ohio, our entire life has been a huge let down. You have a lot going for you Joey. You’re awesome, you are not named Adam Dunn, or Scott hatteberg, or even Boone for that matter, so you’re already ahead of the curve. If it stresses you out that much, we’ll pretend David Weathers is our best player. If he can’t handle the stress that title brings, and has to go into hiding, everyone wins. In the mean time, take some ear drops, grab a Tim Horton Cream filled, and a 12 pack of Molson, pop in a crash test dummies CD and relax. it


June 18, 2009

The downstairs bathroom makeover, is complete. For the most part. Sure, I have some light woodworking to do, and yes, there may be a slight leak in the plumbing to the new sink, but in my book, it’s done. I like to consider a project (one I am not getting paid for) done when 90% of the work is completed. The rest, I can knock out when I have the extra time. Maybe the whole “leaking faucet” thing might need to be addressed sooner rather than later, but everything else is done by most standards. Even at 90% finished, it still looks better than before, so it’s a win/win for me. There is this feeling of accomplishment when a do-it-yourself-er finishes tidying up, and can look at the finished product. A feeling of joy. Grab a beer, stand back a bit and say “I knocked that fucker out”. The feeling is even greater when it’s a bathroom project. The “inaugural dump” so to speak in a new, or newly remodelled bathroom is an amazing feeling. It may not be as awesome as seeing your child born, or your first McRib, but it is pretty sweet all the same. Knowing that you are the first to use not only the toilet, but the entire plumbing system is a joy I will cherish forever. Looking over at the brand new toilet paper dispenser, setting your beer on a brand new vanity counter thing, is something everyone should try. Knowing that no matter what anyone else does to that toilet, you were number 1, as far as number two goes is something special. It’s gotta be like what it feels like to be the first person to have sex with someone, who eventually goes into porn. Not something you can brag about to everyone, but it still makes you feel pretty awesome. I look forward to going back out into the real world, and seeing all the things I have missed. Here I come world!

Go Dante!

June 18, 2009

So Dante Stallworth is a free man, for the most part. Yeah, he gets to do a 3 week kick in the slammer, which I predict will only be 10-15 days, but compared to what he was facing, he’s gotta be on top of the world. Normally, killing a pedestrian while driving really really drunk is pretty much the end of the road. A free ticket for a very long vacation full of anal rapings, and religious conversions, followed by a horrible life. Not for NFL guys. Dante is on easy street, and may be playing football this season. I’m gonna hold off on my outrage over how light his suspension will be, compared to Chris Henry’s giving eer to minor’s suspension, until a later date. What has me really stoked, is that Dante also came to an agreement on a buy out for the victims family. I’m not at all outraged by this, in fact, I applaud both parties here. You figure some latino construction worker got squished by an NFL receiver, fresh off a bad year, and a really big signing bonus. Sure, it’s a tragedy, but his family just got a ton of cash. it’s got me wondering, what could my family get for me? Hopefully, when I check out, it will be at the hands of someone with a ton of cash, who is looking to avoid a big public lawsuit. This scenario is a bit of a stretch, so I’m gonna be realistic. If my wife and kids could get any ammount of money on top of the life insurance, it’d be a decent trade off for them. Sure there will be the whole devastation thing, and the trauma, yada, yada, yada, but how much am I worth? I would hope they could get on top of the cash, a keg for the wake, a few pizzas, some wings, and maybe a few T-shirts, or even tickets to a Cavs game (assuming Lebron is still there). if they can pull off that much, they’d be stealing. I did once sell my soul to a friend for an Arby’s Beef ‘n cheddar, really late at night. I guess the responsible thing to do would be to beef up the ole life insurance, and also to stay away from Browns players. In the meantime, what little soul I have left is back on the market. Any takers?

Shitter in a box

June 16, 2009

I’m a little slow on the posts lately, as I am finishing up a remodelling project. All is going semi-smoothe so far, except for a few small issues with getting the toilet back on, and the purchase of a shitty price pfister faucet. Worst company ever! I have began wondering one thing though. Why is it that nobody has developed a product called ‘Shitter In A Box’? It could have all the plumbing parts necessary, the whole deal, seat and all, all in one package, and a catchy name to boot. I’ve seen the all-in-one toilet deal, but it looks pretty lame. If one were to call it ‘Shitter In A Box’ it would fly off the shelves. Even though I am pretty well set toilet wise, I might buy one just to have on stand-by. Just think how sweet it would be if you turn on the t.v., and Billy Mays walks in wearing his sweet blue shirt and says “Billy Mays here, for shitter in a box…” It would pretty much sell itself. As for me, my regular ole shitter is up and running. I look forward to sneaking home mid morning and giving it the full test. Life is good. Price Pfister still blows though. Gotta love a company that changes a product, but leaves the instructions the same, so you think you are missing a part. Also a company that doesn’t factor in things like basic geometry. I may have to start buying plumbing fixtures from Wisconsin based companies. God help us all.

A new enemy

June 11, 2009

So at the end of last weekend, I was dispatched to the airport to pick someone up. As I was waiting for my guest, I had some time to kill, so I found the only actual bar at port columbus semi-international airport, in hopes of killing some time, and watching the NBA Championship game 2. As I approached, it cut to a commercial, so I asked one of the two other patrons at the bar what the score was. One, was a not all that tall, but super built young black male, whom I somewhat recognized (I knew he was a football player, but could not place him). His companion, was even bigger, but much more out of shape. both could have easilly dispatched me, no problem. The bigger, cooler one, was nice enough to tell me his version of the score, which was pretty close. He was alright. his buddy, whom was clearly a football player, most likely in the NFL due to my age assesment, his Scouting Combine keychain, Reebok duffle bag with NFL logo, and gay, tilted NFL hat. It had the makings of a decent hat. I have one similar that says Bengals, his was just the NFL shield, and he was wearing it like CC Sabathia. He turned and sized me up, like I was a chick at the bar in a bad 80’s movie. I was instantly overcome with the urge to mess with this dude, for a number of reasons. First, to find out who he was, I knew the face, but could not place him. I knew he was a running back, that must have been decent in College, but not from OSU, and he was likely an NFL backup. If he hit me, it would make the paper, and I could finally remember who he was. The other reason to mess with him, was he was a giant turd sandwich. He clearly was a current or former NFL player, and wanted people to know it, but tried to act like he was better than everyone, even though he knew he just wanted to have white people come up and ask for his autograph, and make him feel special. none of that for me. I continued talking to his friend, as I waited for my beverage. Captain backup running back cut in and asked, who I wanted to win. I said I thought the NBA was gay, and was a lukewarm Cav’s fan. He proceeded to laugh and say “Over-rated Lebron James, all he does is make wide open dunks”. I laughed back just said “he’s pretty good”. I wanted to mess with him, and stand up for Lebron, but this dude was still pretty big. Not too tall, but his arms were giant, and I’m sure he could outrun my car. He kept yapping, and yapping, as I tried to place him, but it just did not come. I still have no idea who he was, but I know this much. he was definitely a running back, good enough to get free NFL shit, but not good enough to be a star, or let alone try to cover his fame. He did not play at OSU, and does not play for the Browns, as saying bad things about Lebron would be a career ender in Cleveland. I thought about making a joke about holding clipboards, and fake diamond ear rings, but I held back. His friend was cool, and was obviously his lone entourage member which definitely makes him a backup running back. About the time I finished my drink, they left, his buddy made a somment about my Reds shirt, and he made another joke about no NBA team in Cincy, and they walked away. I asked the bartender if he recognized the dude, and he said he looked familiar, but did not know for sure who he was, and was a shitty tipper, which sealed the deal on the backup running back thing.
I still have no idea who this queer was, but I know he was somewhatt decent in college, since I knew his face, but not his name. Obviously he was heading to or from a mini-camp in some NFL city, as he was decked out in Reebok and under armor gear, and his buddy was carrying his bag. I do know this.
He made a powerfull enemy that night, and I will find out his name, and spread horrible rumors about him, and the chick from John and Kate plus 8. If there is a just god, this dude will be cut, and bounce from team to team, before landing in Cincinnati, where I can see him on Hard Knocks, and call him out as a butt pirate with giant arms. I kinda think he played at an SEC school, as he had that whole “sister raper” look to him, and he did leave a shitty tip. He could also have been a west coaster, as he was on Kobe Bryants nut sack.
My new goal in life, is to find this guys identity, which means he either has to get arrested, or the guy in front of him gets hurt, he steps in, plays awesome, and then gets arrested. This may be the only way to find my newest enemy. In the meantime, I’m gonna just pretend it was Percy Harvin, and send him hate mail. If anyone knows about any shitty running backs flying through columbus this past sunday, or any teams who started a minicamp on monday, or had one end on Sunday, let me know, so I can check their roster until it hits me, and I can focus my anger/spare time on this guy. otherwise, I’m gonna continue to fed-ex all my sons crap filled diapers to the Minnesota Vikings, Care of” Percy Harvin.

It’s back!

June 9, 2009

The long awaited, newest edition of “Who Would You Rather Bang? , or WWYRB as it likes to be called. To make up for the huge gap between the last one we did, I decided to make this the biggest one yet. Based on actul mass of the competition.

Kirstie Alley vs. Queen Latifa
Both these fine ladies have had pretty wide stretching careers, so this is the ultimate decission between ebony, and ivory. Somewhere, Stevie Wonder is glad he is blind. Lets do this thing.

Kirstie Alley, was once one of the hotter women on television She used to drive ole Sammy malone nuts, and for good reason she was one fine lookin lady. Now, miss Alley, can’t fit down most alleys, except for those ones that are the loading/unloading docks for the buildings on each side. Kirstie has had her ups and downs. She has had some luck as a weight loss spokeperson, and did a pretty solid job, and even was marginally hot a few years back since then, it has all gone to shit hopefully Kirstie is happy, cause in the end, that’s all that matters. Unlike with attractive people, the morbidly obese actually have to have self esteem. I think she was in some awesome 80’s sci-fi movie about time travel, or robot cops or something, and might have been in one of the police academy movies. i’d do more research, but I keep throwing up in my mouth. Lets hope that is she was in a Police Academy movie, that Steve Guttenberg got on it before this happened

Unlike her competitor, Queen Latifa carries it pretty well. She herself is in her own way kinda hot, the more internet research you do proves this She also did the weight loss spokesperson thing, and even did some make-up ads. The more I think of this, the more of a mismatch this one really is, in both looks, and talent. However, before you cast your vote, remember this. Kirstie Alley may be actually crazy, so she has that going to her advantage. So to help even this one out, I’ve decided to post the following pics: and this and lets not forget the late 80’s/early 90’s good times. being a Queen comes with some perks. For instance, you get your own watercraft, however, hers seems to be a little less than what ole Queen Mary floated around in

Good night, and Good luck. let the voting begin.