Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Mail-order Russian Brides and Robot Cowboys

So yesterday I was on facebook and I found this sweet ass mail-order Russian bride web site, and I started thinking, man, one of these would be sweet to order. Yeah, there are some things that could go wrong, but there are also so many things that could go soooo right. Its a little thing called true love, guy, ever heard of it?

I was also thinking about robot cowboys yesterday and how robot cowboys ride robot horses and shoot laser guns instead of six
shooters and how they ride off into digital sunsets, but how, contrary to popular belief, they don't fight robot indians, but in fact they actually fight giant spiders, which, if you think about it, really makes a lot of sense. I mean who else is gonna fight those giant spiders? Definitely not the robot indians cause they are too busy getting loaded on digital firewater and surely not the robot sheriff cause as everybody knows, robot sheriffs don't really exist.

So then I started thinking, man, it would be super extra sweet if they made robot Russian brides that were rechargeable and had interchangeable heads and boobs and butts and stuff. They would have to make the interchangeable parts attach really well cause it would suck if the head or something came off
while you were doing it with your robot Russian bride. I would keep my robot russian bride plugged into the recharger while I was doing her at home, you know, like a cell phone cause what if I wanted to go out and get something to eat after I was done doing it? You'd want her all charged up for public. I would also keep the switch on my robot Russian bride set to "Praise you" at all times. Also, I would keep the switch thats just bellow that always set to "Horny." I think a Russian robot bride with interchangeable parts that was set to "Praise you" and "Horny" would keep me pretty happy and satisfied for prolly a real long while.
Dear Scientists,
Hey buddies. Hows the science coming? So do you think you guy could make some Russian robot mail-order bride prototypes? I think that if you made them with interchangeable body parts and some switches that go from "Pay attention to me" to "Praise you" and another one that goes from "Mildly horny" to "Horny" and then maybe just a power switch bellow that, you could probably sell a lot of units. Now I'm not a scientist like you (although I did major in Economics, which is a social science) but I think I have a pretty good idea here. Also, if you need somebody to test drive your prototypes, I'm your man!

Sincerely,
T-Bone "Giggitty" McGillicutty

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

I'm in a gang.

Yeah so I just joined a gang, and damn does it feel good to be in a gang! Joining a gang was something I never really thought I would do, what with the initiation murders and all, but joining this one was SOOOOOO easy, I just asked my buddy James if I could be in and he said sure. Some of my high school friends and I almost started a gang back at the prep school in Connecticut we went too, but it never really panned out. We were gonna be called "Los Blancos." So the gang I am in now is called "The Latin Bloodcrip Kings" which is sweet cause our name naturally affiliates us with all the major gangs on the east and west coasts so we are welcome on pretty much everybody's turf. These affiliations are also gonna come in handy when we have to defend our own turf cause we don't have any guns or sharp knives yet. What's also cool is that everybody in our gang has jobs so we don't have to rob, murder and steal to get by, but you best believe we could if we needed to!
Our gang colors are purple with yellow. Here is an example of one of the bandanas you might see us wearing:
That bandana is also sweet cause we call women, "Squirrels", so yeah, super sweet bandana, dawg. God you guys, being in a gang is so super awesome! I now feel complete.
So we have a really sweet gang sign too, which is really important for every awesome gang to have. Here it is:
I think it really illustrates just how bad ass we are as a gang, cause what's more bad ass than a five horned, seven eyed goat-man on a cross? Fucking nothing, thats what, bitches. And instead of doing that stupid hand
sign gang shit, we are just gonna
carry around pictures of this guy and flash them at people, and then they will know not to mess with the Latin Bloodcrip Kings cause they must be a really tough, bad ass gang that would prolly really mess you up if you even so much as look at them the wrong way, sucka! Shit, why didn't I join a gang sooner!?!?!?
So right now its just me and James in the gang but I bet if you ask us, we'll prolly let you in the gang as long as you are pretty much as bad ass as we are. Also, you need to be employed cause we don't like having our fellow gang members mooching off us when we go out to the club to holla at all the fine squirrels, boyee.
Thug Life.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

I ate a whole crab



So last week I ate a whole crab. Shell and all. Not soft shell. I was in New Orleans for Jazzfest and my roommate, Tony said he would take off 30 bucks from the 100 I owed him from the night before when I bet him that guy on stage was John Cleary, when it was actually John Gros of Papa Grows Funk, who was the band we were there to see (yes, it was a really dumb bet), if I ate a crab whole. We were having a little craw fish boil in the court yard of the house we rented and we had lots of crabs, so I picked one up and ate it like a ham sandwich to the horror and amusement of my friends watching. Several people expressed their concern for my well being, and began describing the damage crab shells could do to my intestines. My response to them was to wash down the crab with a whole craw fish (which was quite easy to handle after grinding crab shell with my molars as a warm up.) For some odd reason, Tony was more impressed that I ate "crab lung" than shell. Is crab lung poisonous? Luckily, I had been drinking heavily since 10am and had eaten some vicodin as an amuse bouche, so about a half hour after feasting, I purged. (I still say it was the vicodin that made me barf and not the "crab lung")

Although I puked up much of the "crustacean burger," the past week was a little touch and go at some points. Having had drank a ridiculous amount of booze for a solid four day run, my innards were left feeling like I got a hydrochloric acid enema. I had shooting pains in my intestines about every 45 minutes and found my self on the toilet at least 12 times a day, always fearing blood on the paper, which there was on Friday, but the good news is that I'm pretty sure it was just my anus bleeding from over wiping.
Its Sunday now, and I'm pretty sure I'm in the clear. Would I do it again? Prolly not, but if it were my fate to bleed out from severe intestinal shredding, so be it. I've had a good run and some great times. Will I eat other dangerous, disgusting, potentially hazardous objects/concoctions for a cheap laugh in the future? Ohhh, for shizzle.
"NO ESCAAA-APE!!"

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Razorsnakes

So the coolest animal on the planet is called the Razorsnake. Thats right, one word, RAZORSNAKE! Razorsnakes like to fight black panthers for fun and have been known to devour entire blue whales in one sitting. Thats right, Razorsnakes sit when they eat. The venom of Razorsnakes can melt through flesh and bone and steal and burns at a temperature 5,000 times hotter than the sun! If you were to look into the eye of a Razorsnake, your soul would explode instantaneously. The meat of a Razorsnake is so delicious that your tongue would shrivel up and die after you tasted it cause its so fucking good that you would never want to taste anything again, but only super heros and maybe Zeus could catch a Razorsnake, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Yes, Razorsnakes do have chrome scales that are often used to blind their foes with their shininess. When a Razorsnake hisses, it sounds like a thousand heavy metal guitars screaming at satan. Razorsnakes don't lay eggs, the explode into 100 baby Razorsnakes when they want to reproduce. Razorsnakes urinate cold beer. Razorsnakes make surprisingly good pets, and are great with children. If I ever make my own country, our nation animal will be the Razorsnake! Fuck bald eagles. Also, our national anthem would be mostly about Razorsnakes and would feature Jay-Z. Our national color would be Razorsnake and our flags would always be burning cause they would have pictures of Razorsnakes on them, and pictures of Razorsnakes make shit burn.
RAZORSNAKE!!!!!

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Bob Hall: Canadian?

So a couple days ago, my buddy, Bob Hall over there at The Daily Duffy, wrote something that I found pretty alarming.  It seems that Mr. Hall may be under the influence of the Canadians, if not actually a Canadian himself!  As you know, Mr. Hall, my best friend/nemesis, claims to be a super-spy, something I have always looked up to him for, ever since I have wanted to be a spy after having a dream in which I was a really awesome spy.  But fuck, if he's Canadian, that really changes things.  I recently wrote this letter of concern to Bob:

Hey guy, 
Are you sure this is not a small town review of Ottawa Ontario? Cause your "ideas" sound a lot like those held by the Canadian agenda. Wait, wait, wait, are you a fucking canuck? That would really explain a lot, like why you like to wear jordash jeans and call everybody "hoser" and just generally do shit that was cool here in america like 20 years ago like some sort of mildly retarded little brother to the US who mom makes us play Monopoly with but then you choke on a hotel and step right on the middle of the board and then spill my rootbeer all over the bank! Why can't you get your own friends!?
Maybe you're some sort of Canadian Spy? But why would Canada need spies since they don't have any bombs or army or anything since they still rely on the queen and Great Britain for all that shit? Bob Hall, you have really sent my mind on a wild roller coaster ride with this one, and I really just wanna get off before I puke, or get hit in the head by a goose like Fabio did.
THB
I mean if Bob Hall is in fact a US super spy who is under the influence of the Canadians, then we have a big problem on our hands.  Sure, I hate the sun just as much as the next red blooded American (I mean, you ever got a real bad sunburn?  That shit sucks!) but blowing it up, even partially?  Thats Canadian talk if you ask me.
So I just found this picture on the intrawebs of a pigeon that is a spy.  Maybe we could replace the potential Canadian spies like Bob Hall with pigeons like this guy?Looks like squirrels are pretty good spies too, and I don't know about you, but I just kinda trust squirrels more than pigeons.  I mean, they are warm blooded mammals and they are really fast and cute and really good with nuts so maybe they are better potential-canadian-spy replacements after all.

Friday, January 23, 2009

The Canadian Agenda


It was recently brought to my attention that maybe not everyone knows just what the Canadians are up too.  I thought it was common knowledge, but my good friend and housemate Tony (aka T-Bagzz) posed the question earlier today, "why do the Canadians want to blow up the sun?"  And I was like, "really guy?  You don't know this shit?"  So here is a brief explanation for anyone else who may not know the truth about Canadians.
Canadiens have always hated the sun.  They are insanely jealous because their country gets so little of its warming, loving, happy rays, since they are in complete and total darkness for 324 days a year, and 41 days of summer, when the sun comes up for nearly an hour a day, are "still pretty cloudy, ehh hoser?"  Nuking the sun has always been the Canadian's number one priority.  Hockey was just a way to distract us, using sweet-ass violence, from their solar-destruction agenda.  Global warming, code named "slippery shark", was just their back up plan to make us hate the sun as much as they do, and so, trick us into blowing up that "summumma biatch" ourselves.  Global warming was their fail safe, just incase their nuclear program never got off the ground.
Luckily for us, Al Gore saw right through their sneaky ways.  Having had a disastrous summer camp in Canada experience as a young boy (something which still makes him weep when ever asked about it in public), Al Gore "never really trusted those shifty bastards."  After inventing the intrawebs, Al Gore began conducting radical (and arguably unethical) experiments on our pale neighbors to the north, using fiber optics, gauze, and thirty weight ball bearings.  Thats when the plans for "slippery shark" began to unfold before his eyes.  Thank god we have somebody like the Gore-meister!  All hail our benevolent overlord Gore!

And check this shit out, like those shady bastards weren't fuckin with us enough, now they are making killer trees!  Thats right, with the help of their dastardly side kick, the pine beetle, the Canadians have figured out a way to create trees that actually CAUSE global warming.  I mean, like they're over consumption of coal wasn't enough.  Awww, you're cold up there in the great white north?  Put on a fucking sweater and quit your crying you hoseheads.  Yeah, thanks for Pam Anderson and Mike Meyers and all,  but what have you guys given us lately?  
I, for one, am not going to stand for it!  I purpose a boycott on all the great things that we import from Canada, like.......ahh......shit.  Do we actually import anything from up there?  Ah, fuck it.  Lets just nuke the sun and get this shit over with.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Lobster Head


Lobster Head is universal and transcends this universe, expanding infinitely into all universes. 
Lobster Head is not only beyond time and space, Lobster Head IS time and space. 
Lobster Head is the Ying to your Yang (or you can be the Ying, Lobster Head really doesn't give a flying fuck.) 
Lobster Head is not a religion, but it is the worship of all religions. 
Although Lobster Head first presented itself to this dimension on the glorious night of November 21st 2007, Lobster Head has always, and will always be. 
Lobster Head is a baby's first smile, and the first bicep Jeffery Daumer ever ate. 
Lobster Head is love. 
Lobster Head is hate. 
To quote Dr. Egon Spengler, "Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light." This is what a human's first experience of Lobster Head is often like. 
Yes, Lobster Head is total protonic reversal. 
The most important thing to remember is that Lobster Head is forever, the rest will just fall into place. 

Finally, why "Gimme Drank?" Well, shout it out loud and all of your questions will be answered.
LH4eva, bitches.
"Lobster Head forever don't you ever fuck with me!"

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

An Ode to Pills


Oh pills, how can I truly express my love for you and all the beautiful things you do for me?

I Heart Pills

You fix my head when I'm hungover,
You always come through, over and over.
You suppress my cough when I'm congested.
I love you most when you're ingested.
You perk me up when I am sleepy,
And put me down when I can't... sleepy.
Although I've never had "the clap,"
I've heard you cure it quick and tidy.
Girls can take you to stop their babies.
I wonder if you can prevent rabies?
Sometimes I take you just for fun,
or crush you up and snort you down.
You can help my wiener when its flaccid,
You'd mellow me out when on bad acid.
You take my pain, make me feel all fuzzy.
Sometimes with booze you make me buzzy.
You pick me up when I am blue,
Make me feel better when I get the flu.
When you're filled with MDMA,
You make me feel all silly and gay. (like happy, not homosexual)
Advil is sweet, Vicodin is radder,
Cranberry juice's great for your bladder.
If I had IBS you'd sooth my colon.
I wonder if the Dude eats you before bowlin?
And if I ever get high blood pressure,
An ACE inhibitor of you will be for good measure.
Some pills calm and some pills coat,
Some even help out with water weight and bloat.
When my heart burns, you put out the fire,
Pills, I love you so much and I'm not a lier.


I love you, pills!!!