I'm back from New Years. My college pals and I pick a random city every year to celebrate it in, and this year was Salt Lake. We saw the travelling Jackass tour, a lot of Mormon statues, and the friendly SLC police were nice enough to escort us to every single thing we did after 11 pm. One night we bought breakfast for this drunk one-legged dude we found in a bar and on the way, the police asked us if we were just in a fight two blocks back. I was too drunk to say no, so I told him that four suspicious men have been tearing the legs off of Indians. So the men he's looking for will not only have all their legs, but some in addition to that.
At the Utah Fun Dome, we were involved in a life or death laser tag struggle. We were working out our strategies when we heard a huge fat guy from the other team say, "See we're missionaries so we have to wear these white shirts! We're sure easy to see!" After I bled out of my ears and eyes, I stopped our discussion and told them all previous plans were obsolete - our mission is to now kill that Mormon missionary.
He was wandering through the maze chatting, because laser tag is as good a time as any to convert sinners. I snuck up behind him, stuck my head through a window, and killed him 7 times before he could slosh his body around to see what happened. Then he said, "Hey, that's not fair!" And I swear to god, somewhere in there he said something like, "DER deeDOO!" In my bloodlust, the only thing I thought to scream back was, "FATTY!"
On the way back to recharge my laser gun, I noticed his two missionary friends were betrayed by their savage god and their suits started malfunctioning. Their vests were just blinking and beeping randomly as they wandered around and loudly complained how broken they were. One of them was so busy doing that that he ran his face into my shoulder. I considered this an unconfirmed kill. When I got back to the base, I told the little kids on our team that when they go back out there, they need to watch out for the enemy's secret weapon - Festive-Colored Battering Ram Mormons. But Mormon kids are just as stupid as Mormon adults, so they just looked at me like I ordered them to stand still and stare confusedly at me.
The final victory was with the Mormons, though. Their awful liquor and food poisoning combined to make me puke in not only the hotel, but most of our country's terrorist-free airports between here and Utah.
At the Utah Fun Dome, we were involved in a life or death laser tag struggle. We were working out our strategies when we heard a huge fat guy from the other team say, "See we're missionaries so we have to wear these white shirts! We're sure easy to see!" After I bled out of my ears and eyes, I stopped our discussion and told them all previous plans were obsolete - our mission is to now kill that Mormon missionary.
He was wandering through the maze chatting, because laser tag is as good a time as any to convert sinners. I snuck up behind him, stuck my head through a window, and killed him 7 times before he could slosh his body around to see what happened. Then he said, "Hey, that's not fair!" And I swear to god, somewhere in there he said something like, "DER deeDOO!" In my bloodlust, the only thing I thought to scream back was, "FATTY!"
On the way back to recharge my laser gun, I noticed his two missionary friends were betrayed by their savage god and their suits started malfunctioning. Their vests were just blinking and beeping randomly as they wandered around and loudly complained how broken they were. One of them was so busy doing that that he ran his face into my shoulder. I considered this an unconfirmed kill. When I got back to the base, I told the little kids on our team that when they go back out there, they need to watch out for the enemy's secret weapon - Festive-Colored Battering Ram Mormons. But Mormon kids are just as stupid as Mormon adults, so they just looked at me like I ordered them to stand still and stare confusedly at me.
The final victory was with the Mormons, though. Their awful liquor and food poisoning combined to make me puke in not only the hotel, but most of our country's terrorist-free airports between here and Utah.
The Portland gift exchange changed the way a lot of us thought about erotic storytelling and the giant lesbian asses that surround it. MisterSatan's narration of Big Butts Monthly told the ham-scented tale of a passionate same-sex relationship between two beast monsters that both aroused our loins and could, between panties banditing, knock a jetliner out of the sky with a giant unstoppable pork hand.
Earlier this evening I had the third gift-exchange party I've been to this week. There was no hardcore pro-wrestling like there was at the SG PDX get-together, but I did find a fake moustache and used it to complete what can only be described as a transcendantly brilliant disguise. After the house party (where I received a Captain America homoerotic action figure, Army of Darkness, XBOX accessories, and a toy car inspired by the homoerotic hero Captain America) we went to the bar where I introduced myself to the bartender as The Empire Strikes Back's Billy Dee Williams. My impression was impressive despite my cracker-ass-crackerness. She didn't seem to understand anything was out of the ordinary and someone nearby told me they knew my moustache was fake. It was only recently that I recovered enough from the panic of being discovered to type about it.
Earlier this evening I had the third gift-exchange party I've been to this week. There was no hardcore pro-wrestling like there was at the SG PDX get-together, but I did find a fake moustache and used it to complete what can only be described as a transcendantly brilliant disguise. After the house party (where I received a Captain America homoerotic action figure, Army of Darkness, XBOX accessories, and a toy car inspired by the homoerotic hero Captain America) we went to the bar where I introduced myself to the bartender as The Empire Strikes Back's Billy Dee Williams. My impression was impressive despite my cracker-ass-crackerness. She didn't seem to understand anything was out of the ordinary and someone nearby told me they knew my moustache was fake. It was only recently that I recovered enough from the panic of being discovered to type about it.
The cockblasting motherfucking future is here. Yesterday I got a porn email with the subject, "Insane g!rls blowing elephants." Inside it were only the words, "Crazy men enforce to e-jaculate horses" And I said what you're probably thinking, "FINALLY!"
A friend of mine got one just before that that said, "Our hypersexsual chicks won't let you feel boring!" It didn't prophecize the coming of a new age of enlightenment like the elephant sucking enforcement announcement the horse people sent me, but it did make me really happy.
A friend of mine got one just before that that said, "Our hypersexsual chicks won't let you feel boring!" It didn't prophecize the coming of a new age of enlightenment like the elephant sucking enforcement announcement the horse people sent me, but it did make me really happy.
After careful inspection of my neck, arms, and hands, there are a total of 11 places where Genesis' teeth broke through my skin. I don't know what the symptoms of rabies are, but I spent this morning spouting foam out of my mouth and being restrained by local police. And what they say is true-- they're the real heroes.
Today's work:
Video game reviews of Barbie Secret Agent, WWE Road to Wrestlemania X8, Revenge of the Smurfs, and Army Men Turf Wars. I hyperbolized about ass-eating acid and necrophilia in my own private war against the Electronic Gaming Monthly censors, and I'm sure by the time it gets to print, their editors will hack it down to say, "Revenge of the Smurfs is a smurfingly BAD time!!!" So that's something to look forward to.
Now I have about four hours to finish two articles before my editor at The Wave wakes up and checks his Inbox. And I'm sure 3 hours of it will be spent trying to think of an acceptably politically correct way to make jokes about the ABC of Sex Education for Trainables - a video that teaches retarded people how to bone each other. And oh holy fuck do I wish I made that up. Fun Fact: when prompted, a group of mentally challenged individuals can come up with 10 synonyms for the word "penis." Please picture 10 retarded people screaming "Cock! Ding Dong!" and you'll realize why I spend 10 hours a day saving Christmas.
Video game reviews of Barbie Secret Agent, WWE Road to Wrestlemania X8, Revenge of the Smurfs, and Army Men Turf Wars. I hyperbolized about ass-eating acid and necrophilia in my own private war against the Electronic Gaming Monthly censors, and I'm sure by the time it gets to print, their editors will hack it down to say, "Revenge of the Smurfs is a smurfingly BAD time!!!" So that's something to look forward to.
Now I have about four hours to finish two articles before my editor at The Wave wakes up and checks his Inbox. And I'm sure 3 hours of it will be spent trying to think of an acceptably politically correct way to make jokes about the ABC of Sex Education for Trainables - a video that teaches retarded people how to bone each other. And oh holy fuck do I wish I made that up. Fun Fact: when prompted, a group of mentally challenged individuals can come up with 10 synonyms for the word "penis." Please picture 10 retarded people screaming "Cock! Ding Dong!" and you'll realize why I spend 10 hours a day saving Christmas.
The PDX Suicide Girls party got a little interrupted by Fruitastic Dracula, his "hetero-life-partner" Ass Fucker of the Night, and that lesbian girl who was excited to tell us about how high she was on cough syrup. I am a professional drinker, so even after six pitchers of Pabst I remember most of the night, meaning that I'm fully aware that it was mostly me making fun of some queer ass God damn vampires. Despite that, I had a good time meeting you guys. Fun Fact: I was especially having a good time meeting those of you with luscious, luscious breasts.
PS: Eve rules, but while we were exchanging stories, I learned that she attends a college where students receive no grades and tuition is paid for in friendship. I was a little confused by the whole thing, but I do know this: when she graduates, she's going to be able to grow drugs that will kick the brain out of your ear from across the room.
PPS: If anyone wants to play Lazer Tag with me on the afternoon of Saturday, November 2nd, then fucking do it. IF YOU DARE! Pchu! Pchu!
PS: Eve rules, but while we were exchanging stories, I learned that she attends a college where students receive no grades and tuition is paid for in friendship. I was a little confused by the whole thing, but I do know this: when she graduates, she's going to be able to grow drugs that will kick the brain out of your ear from across the room.
PPS: If anyone wants to play Lazer Tag with me on the afternoon of Saturday, November 2nd, then fucking do it. IF YOU DARE! Pchu! Pchu!
I've now been writing for about 24 hours straight, give or take the few hours where I went to see Tony Hawk at the Rose Garden. He totally jumped the grand canyon on a dirtbike I think.
In the last day, I've reviewed the Turkish remake of the Wizard of Oz, three video games about either Barbie or Mary Kate and Ashley, a book about working out using your cat as a piece of workout equipment, and a feature about people suing McDonalds because their kids are fat. I've written so many jokes in the last day that you could slip on a banana peel in front of me and I probably wouldn't even laugh.
Also, who's going to see Mr. Show Thursday night?
In the last day, I've reviewed the Turkish remake of the Wizard of Oz, three video games about either Barbie or Mary Kate and Ashley, a book about working out using your cat as a piece of workout equipment, and a feature about people suing McDonalds because their kids are fat. I've written so many jokes in the last day that you could slip on a banana peel in front of me and I probably wouldn't even laugh.
Also, who's going to see Mr. Show Thursday night?
An editor for one of the magazines I'm writing for just sent me a video game from Japan that simulates playing Rock Paper Scissors with cute dancing girls. If you win, they take off their clothes. The cool thing is that they don't modify their dancing once they're naked. They just bounce happily. The girls aren't really that attractive, but for the last two days it's superseded all my other hobbies. So what I'm saying is that I'm hopelessly addicted to playing Rock Paper Scissors against adorable stripping teen asians. Bye!
