Wednesday, October 17, 2007
  BET On The Confusion

Fighting bums is easy, trust me. If a bum can take you out your not making enough money but don't worry I know a place where your wallet gets 2 times bigger (thats right its like a wallet pump except you don't need to ice down and lube up before you use it).

Yes, America home of the gatling gun (Richie G I see you nigga). So if you know whats good for ya jump in the ford turn up the Bruce Springstein grab your eyepatch and lets cross the boarder. If you are Canadian, you better be, and you love your country you know what to do. Go to the nearst U.S. outlet mall find the most American cashier possible ( preferably one with one of those stupid american pins, I'm not the only one who equates those pins with a swoosh right?) pull down your pants and piss loonies all over the floor. If you think pissing loonies is too hard then you hate Natives. No seriously you hate every single one of them right down to the cute little one who shows you how to catch ants with a maple leaf and turn it into a healing paste.... n.b. (You don't even have a medicine pouch!!!! get outta here. Billy Jack) Without loonie pissing there would be no buffalo and without buffalo the states would smell a lot better and I don't know about you but I love the smell of suicide sauce in the morning.

America: watch me crank that soulja boi

Canada: rrrrrrr... me thinks the deals be within the belly of the beast

America: do that supaman!

Canada: the Sirens have subdued their feverish minds raise the masses on the minivans we sail tonight!!!!!!!

There's only Sub-prime left? To be honest I like my steaks rare medium rare might be a little overcooked.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
  Gummed Down

Dinosaurs are back!!! Thats right get out there and get one and if you cant get one make one here's how. Take one part old people two parts lizard and combine let sit for 10 minutes then serve if your dinosaur is experiencing slight memory loss send it to Florida where it will promptly die.

On my way to blockbuster I thought why not let my mouth and my mind enjoy a beverage so I picked up a Yoohoo and went straight to the subway. Before I could finish something struck me I picked it up and thought "good thing a loonie hit me" until it happened again. I was being sniped from where? and from who or whom or whem? I needed time to think up a good exit strategy for all I know I could be getting shot by a TEENAGER and that kind of scum keeps plenty of pocket change. I took up camp in a nerby ally and traded clothes with a bum unfortunately he used his new powers for evil, gained access to a hotel, and took a shit in the lobby. A mistake? never! it was an unforseeable event. My only mistake was on a Harvard Calculus final and I wasn't even wrong ahahhahahahaa.

I took a mirror out so I could look around the corner and the bastard smashed it. My plan had worked perfectly inside the mirror were the deadly spirits of Karatae and a bubblegum it was all released in the snipers direction all I had to do was wait.

"You thought these Karatae spirits would stop me?"

he was behind me instantly but how?

"Do you have any last request before I digitize you with this loonie"

"Can I have that gum?"

I failed to mention that the mystical gum was in fact Bazaooka Joe which meant after 5 min of chewing I had the equivilent of a lead bullet. Pretending to tie my shoelace I loaded the projectile between my middle finger and thumb and flicked the bullet into his eye. Score one for the big gun, however, half way between my victory dance I was flagged and told my bum attire was not fit for the NBA.... Jeez

Dont let the horses dress themselves, we will dress them, then we will race them.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
  Don't Make Me Stuff Your Face With Freedom Fries

Don't worry you are not the only one; I too was tricked into leaning all the way back in a Lazyboy. And of course at first I was scared but later my fear turned into rest and high comfort levels. These are the perils of life and the comforts of our own mind and one should never be afraid to recline the chair.

This is why I had to go to France because I heard you can get some sweet prostitutes and crepes at the international whore and pancake house (La Maison de Putain et Crepes Internationale). I was so excited I started dry humping everything to the music of Popozao and I didn’t even get tired one bit, cool right? Well with all the tension building up it wasn’t a surprise that I got stopped at customs on suspicion of drug trafficking.

“What is this?”

“…that’s my walkman wrapped in plastic and covered in Vaseline”

“Okay then explain these pellets we just pulled out your ass”

“…duh batteries… where am I supposed to put them in my bag so the terrorists can get them? huh is that what you want, terrorists? big scary terrorist with batteries and knives…. Hey I think this guy wants big scary terrorists!!!”

“Settle down nobody wants terrorists I’m sorr..”


“….(sigh)… I’m sorry, soo, you can go should we put the batteries back in your ass sir”

“It’s the only place they will recharge… so yes thank you”

I finally made it to Paris but I had nowhere to stay and the batteries took up most of the room so I had no pocket money. That’s why I traded my walkman and some dirty newspapers for a hobo’s fur jacket. Now I know what people might be thinking “hey wont that make you hot and don’t hot people get AIDS (for instance Africa, the entire of Africa)”. Well I had to risk getting hot AIDS in order to make some money. The jacket was only so the prostitutes would respect me and I could start ballin pimpin hard/ pimpin hard/ pimpin hard.

It was late at night and I was Corey Hart’in it (*song* sunglasses at night p.s. if you download this song make sure it is the original 1983 copy) time was passing which meant the fat bill fold (money wrapped in either a rubber band or money clip) I gained from selling poontang (pussy) was burning a hole in my pocket. Everyone knows where you go when you got maaaad chedda cheese (Cash) you go to Willie-M’s (Wal-Mart) and buy your self some ill Dickie’s clothing. But something was odd about this French Wal-Mart and it wasn’t the smell, I know it wasn’t the smell because I eat a lot of Whoppers and those things stink like B.O. so I’m used to it. Plus I did this chick once and she smelled a bit but I finished like everything was cool but it wasn’t she really smelled. Anyways what I noticed was there was nothing but old people working there and then this French guy lets call him Guy told me something…

“Uhh Unfortunately uhh young uhh immigrants uhhh don’t get to work in France

“What you mean immigrants cant get low paying Wal-Mart jobs…that’s crazy so then who do you spit on?”

“Our women”

“Oh well in that case Guy you should go to hell because a wise man once told me French people should go to hell the end Guy… hahahahaha you should have stopped listening but you didn’t so I win ahahahahahaa oh and I love Freedom Fries"

Turns out Guy knew a lot of people because later on that week him and a million others started marching and they didn't stop until I apologized by saying "no they are not freedom fries they are french fries and Guy is the cutest boy in all of Niece"

John Travolta flies his own commercial Boeing 747 and you are telling me Scientology doesn’t rock… you my friend are a Communist.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006
  Two clones Don't Make a Right

I wouldn’t say Barry Manilo isn’t my friend but sometimes you can spend too much time in the company of others. It was a long night and we had just finished watching an all-day marathon of Survivorman when the obvious question came up;

“What would you do if you ate a banana and someone stole your identity”

“Mani-mellow listen, its late and you are obviously a great singer but my identity is theft proof for two reasons. The first being I don’t kick very high and the second is my ongoing addiction to salty de-shelled pistachio nuts”

The awkward silence was not caused by a confusing question or an even more bewildering response rather it was the fact that during my confession Barry started crying like a little girl and immediately started laughing. Now I know everyone knows what kind of cry laugh I’m talking about because grade 8 was a staple for that kind of thing. As if newly acquired mammograms weren’t enough hormones had forced, at the time, a whole section of the species to inconspicuously develop the ability to cry and laugh at the stupidest things. I only need to say “Titanic” and you will either understand what I’m talking about or you were one of those sobbing bitches.

Needless to say the night was getting weird and I was opposed to the idea of hanging around to find out if Barry’s emotional breakdown was going to lead to a cold cucumber and a warm dream. But before I could leave Rod Stewart burst through the window guns blazing and by guns I mean biceps better known as man pipes (Spanish *pipinyadas*).

“I will destroy you clone!!”

“You cant do that I have many more middle-aged women to impregnate”


Now I cant be responsible for cats because they are sooo cute.

Monday, March 20, 2006
  American Science

Some say “hey you” come on I want more ranch sauce on my ceaser salad. Well I say hold on there Simon there are only so many wide fields and picket fences I can fit into a bottle.

I was out breaking my usual habits of being a nerd and decided to gyrate my hips in cool jeans with the rest of them. This trail of thoughts landed me at a nightclub I can’t say where because as you all may know this is a well established site now and I wouldn’t want the head of the glowstick union coming down to HQ shaking his gelled hair in my face while wearing an entire outfit from Parassuco end scene. I wasn’t having a good time mainly because I don’t know how to dance but partially because it was a cock and ball reunion with all the regulars (Chinese kid with glasses button shirt that’s too big, Indian kid with chin strap and tons of Indian girls which you cant talk to because they cant marry outside their race, crufty black guys with short and tall friend, white males from age 21-35 who all look 40) yes people it was cock on the high seas and you couldn’t get through the dance floor without doing at least 10 things that made you gay. So when I finally found the one single girl in the club and asked her to dance I was not surprised when she said no because what would you do if you saw a bowl of shit and someone said hey dude I think there might be a diamond in there… would you say of course your right and put your hand in it. I mean it is a bowl of shit and not some regular bowl I’m talking about those metal mixing bowls and the shit is real watery but you cant see through it so it wont just get on your hands some might absorb into your soul. Feeling a little down from the rejection I thought I would see what Jack and Daniels had to say… now drinks at clubs are really expensive and maybe the bartender felt otherwise because when I asked for my drink she said “…are you going to tip me this time!?” So I gave her a tip and told her she had some lovely side boob. What is this world coming too when you have to take lip from eye candy if it was the 80’s I would of threw some snort in her eyes and got back to Duran Duran but unfortunately it is not the 80’s so I had to settle for a pissed off bartender who now decided to give me more coke than Jack. All of this isn’t important what is important is I got out of the club and saw the girl who rejected me. I thought “naw if I pwn noobs I can pwn her heart” that’s when I hit her with my fool proof line

“so how about we get drunk and fondle each others genitals?”


Needless to say it got interesting from there and we went to a back alley to fondle each others genitals. Well that’s when I woke up only to realize my dog was licking my crotch and America’s Top Model was on the TV. I let Rusty finish and went back to sleep but this is what I learnt; They toast sandwiches because everything taste better toasted…but what if we toasted a toasted sandwich would that make it the best? Surely subway is playing God.

Saturday, February 18, 2006
  I'll Have The Wine and A Hot Burning Flag

I haven’t posted in a long time because someone thought it would be a smart idea to try and Google “Google” and my laptop exploded. She said she was trying to find the back of the internet so she entered the word exit in binary code. After a few seconds a burning bush came on screen which she swore was going at 1000 fps but I think she’s a God damn liar. All of this is not important what is important is the message she was given from a saint. That’s right Saint Valentines in all his decapitated glory came to my friend, Alexis, in a vision, a vision so bright and wonderful tiny clams could be heard rejoicing in the ocean.

She told me Mr. Valentino wanted her to fix the middle-east yesterday and that she better get on it or else. Well Alexis has always been “how bout it” so recognizing the threat Saint Valentine posed she grabbed his throat and said game on. Now some might not believe a girl could be that intense but you need to see my friend Alexis she is about 6 feet and I am pretty sure I saw her eating small children for energy. She told me that just as she put Valentine down Cupid came and started talking some bullshit about love and crap. Before you go to middle-east you need some practice in breaking heads and taking names so she grabbed Cupid’s quiver and stabbed him with one of his own hearts and put a mirror in his face. Everyone knows Cupid is made of love so when he fell in love with his love the intense combination made his heart explode. Right after, Alexis took two large bites out of Cupids wings and flew to Saudi Arabia.

The problem was what could she do to mend the deep sociological divide between the countries of the middle-east. She laid in the oil fields for hours until it became very apparent what needed to be done. Fucking Pictionary, a game used since the ancient times of Egypt to bring everyone together (that’s right those are not hieroglyphics and those fucking beard wearing anthropologist know it). Gathering some of the greatest Pictionary countries of the world together she began a mass tournament of intercontinental champions. So I think that has brought you up to date and now I will explain why you needed that anecdote.

The finals as we now know came down to Europe and the Middle-east being represented by Denmark and Palestine respectively. Now is it Denmark’s fault that out of 2,800 words they happened to pull out Muhammad, peace be upon him, or is it Palestine’s fault that at the same time there was a Denmark flag surplus that needed to be dealt with. No, I don’t think it was anyone fault and I think the blame should be put squarely on those Parker brothers but that’s just one bout it opinion.

If pencils have erasers why don’t erasers have pencils….. think about it.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006
  Jesus Double Dips

I know there are starving kids but I don’t think I should be one of them. However, this is not one of the ideals my adult supervisors follow. It somewhat has to do with them being functioning alcoholics which sucks for responsibility but rocks when it comes to making sure the house is always stocked. So when I come home from a hard day of sleeping in class instead of there being a warm cooked meal (it doesn’t have to be hot) I am treated to a plateful of excuses.

Only one of two things can happen in this situation. One, I eat delicious Skyflake crackers all night or two I go on a Mickey D’s run and since we were out of peanut butter that meant it was time to head towards the golden arches. Let me pose this hypothetical situation to you:

Your crack dealer says “hey Simon remember that crack you’re addicted to?”
“Well, everyday of the week I’m going to give you that crack at a great low price… how bout it?”
In which Simon obviously says “Crack-tacular”

Fucking Ronald knows where to find my ass too right at the end of 24 at the peak of my hunger he starts up his seduction in commercial form “McDeal nigga how bout it?” “$3.99 come on you know you spent more for less.” He is right he is always right that’s why my brother and I headed out there with our mouths watering in anticipation.

We got the Big Extras which are just a cheap rip off of the Arch Deluxe (one of the best burgers ever made) and drove up to the cashier. Anyone who is truly a McDonalds connoisseur already knows the day I’m talking about just by the sandwich but for those who are unfamiliar here you go;

Monday: Big Extra
Tuesday: Big Mac
Wednesday: McChicken
Thursday: Double Cheeseburger
Friday: Fish Fillet
Saturaday: Two Cheeseburgers
Sunday: Quarter Pounder

Being a Monday you would think Mcdonalds had all week to make sure everything was on point. Well this was not the case because when I asked for McChicken sauce and Sweet and Sour sauce (essential for any McDonald meal… its kinda like putting sugar on strawberries or wearing no underwear during a lapdance) I was shocked to find out they were out of Sweet and Sour. Now I know recently at some McDonalds you have to pay ten cents to get a triple S or trips (I just made that up email me if you made it up or if you like it) so I offered the cashier some money and still I was denied my sauce. Did I give my order back, did I tell the cashier what I felt like of course not I’m a fucking junkie I just took my bag and drove off. I did however call Ronald later this is how it went;

“Ronald I’m a long time user first time caller, listen you’re a multi-billion dollar corporation; I make seven bucks an hour; there are billions of sweet and sour sauces in the world; I just want one I guess I’m just calling to say how bout it”
“Jeremy. That’s your name right?”
“No its Chris”
“Well tits you listen to me…you will be back so just shut up and eat your burgers”
“Yes sir, but while I got you here do you mind adding a couple more nuggets everyone knows six is not enough and they are delicious.”
“Jeremy we will think about it in the mean time stay frosty.” (click)

Why do abused women go back to their men, why do angles fall from heaven, why does McDonalds put six delicious morsels of meat into a small box and sell it at a price which you wouldn’t pay if it was a French prostitute… I’ll tell you why; you dont put all your eggs in one basket and you definately don't give a crackhead his share. Small packets of life are opened everyday I hope I will one day dip my nugget into this same elixer.
(narcissistic-fix):n. A drug for individual satisfaction

2006-01-29 / 2006-02-05 / 2006-02-12 / 2006-03-19 / 2006-03-26 / 2006-04-02 / 2006-10-22 / 2007-10-14 /

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