Seriously... Don't look at it

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You know when something says don't look at it, it is going to be good. Hat's off to this puddle of murky perversion for his voyeuristic version of a retarded ginger superhero... I can only imagine the hours it took to carefully render each 4 inch follicle of radish pubic hair and create this glistening bag of smashed assholes.... You are one sick f*ck.

Hauling a lot of ass

"I can never remember which left to take... God Damn! What smells like a honey roasted ham?"

Nyte Vision

Look, I made a lot of mistakes in 2010... Perhaps I was a bit too lazy, a bit too cynical. Maybe I need to eat less and exercise more... But let me introduce you to my biggest mistake of 2010... Never giving proper dues to the incredibly charismatic Mr. James Nyte.

I can't understand a fucking word he said, but we all know it is the thought that counts... and I could not think of a better way to start my new year than enjoying the harmoniously sweet refrains of Mr. Nytes heartpouring ballad... Easily the best 6 minutes of 2011.

I find this all incredibly inspiring. Although the words may be as distinguishable as his impeccable tattoo choices depicting the 2010 BP oil spill.  His song and look is inescapably catchy and his message is crystal clear.... Kind of.... Well, in a meth induced, autotuned sort of way....  Either way it has me screaming,"I want to be like James Nyte."
 
Think about it... Minus the Tim Mcgraw meets cocaine vibe, this mother fucker is totally content with 3 chords, a fresh patch of milk weeds, a blanket booster seat and a few sparkle effects. Of everything on earth, this guy is telling us that THIS is what he thinks is the shit.... Damn, I wish I was so easily content... How much cooler would life be if all I needed was a dew rag, a gravity defying Casio, and a rat tail of amphetamines the size of fucking jump rope?...
Instead I have wasted my time with the trivial things in life such as dental care, sleeves, and sobriety. Starting today, I am going to scratch all of my benign resolutions for the new year and simply live by a new set of rules. I will see the world in a new way.... A simple new resolution I call "Nyte Vision".

Any guy who's only distinguishable line is "All's I know..." is all's right with me... Truly inspirational, James. You've got me so motivated about this au courant outlook on things, that I too am going to have to tightly tie a shirt around my waist to hide how excitedly stimulated I am about the fresh new year.

Like a dream come true.

New ringtone for work calls

WTF is this.... I don't know if this is real or not but who gives a rat's ass... it will emancipate you from the bonds of a shitty day, and make you laugh for at least the next 100 years....

However, it did make my conscience play a torturous game of North and South over whether I should laugh or not.

Technically, I don't know if the Parthenon was built by slaves, or the pyramids, or America for that matter.... However, if we look at what this culture's major contribution has been to American society, We've got Hip hop, Jazz, and Blues.....
So I think they will be very appreciative and find it very fitting, that we finally make reparations with a song...
Raw deal?.... O.k., we'll throw in a president.

Look at it this way, at least you're not a fucking slave.

Charitable Heartbreak

"Sometimes it's hard to go on and keep those smiles?"
Something tells me this bouncing little butterball is really heartbroken over his dad. In fact they all look incredibely and hopelessly "lost in the grief".

How fitting is it that WalMart is sponsoring this festive little charity project. I'm sure that coerces a big boned smile from their swollen grief stricken faces.

Do we really need to be giving this family food for the holidays?  Just a guess, but it looks like they had a hell of a thanksgiving feast.... Are those f*cking cookie tins? Really? Cookies and Video games?.. I love that the girl just lost her dad and the only tears I see, are the tears of joy as she holds a can full of soft batch hand picked pasteries.
How about a fucking treadmill..... Gym pass.... some dance lessons....  some Crystal Meth?
You know, a little amphetamine addiction might not only help them drop a few hundred pounds but it might also help them cope with the incredibly inconsolable sadness of losing their father...Three husky birds with one rock... or stoned.

Instead, I love that we are feeding this butter bird family of stuffed turkeys with the very addiction that is going to finally choke off their mother's aorta 3 weeks into January, and leave them as fucking orphans. I guess it's only fitting that this generous publicity stunt is named, "getting to the heart of Christmas". Marketing genius.. Great idea Walmart..... Let me thank you in advance for leaving me, and the rest of America, to pick up the burdening years of premium healthcare costs, and PTSD therapy that your fucking gold star family will require for the next 30+ years.

I can't wait for the ultimate slap in the face when a big pine box, draped in a flag and the words "Cpt. Kasey Roberts" on it arrives at the house....and our burly little ballerina dances passed it and amorously hugs the pallette box next to it, just dropped off by Walmart, wrapped in celophane and that says,"Jimmy Dean"....

Merry F*cking Christmas.... sausage lovers.

Sometimes it is just too easy

A while ago I posted a link for anyone looking for something to fill some time in a long day. Today is the same concept... Here is a screenshot example from a time killing personal favorite, that is always guaranteed fun... If you're ever needing a devious laugh and feel like your going to hell anyway... give it a try.

Mormon.org... It's kind of like fishing with dynamite... a bit unfair, but still funny as hell.



click pic to enlarge

Hands up, who's crazy

At exactly what point in life do you realize you are genetically destined to be a f*cking hand model?  It's got to be fairly early, at least in this case, because it came at the cost of developing any social skills and has retarded all awareness of the world around her... leaving this mess looking like a remedial 2 month old that is just discovering her hands again every 30 seconds.

A+ to the news producer who brought this crazy bitch in for the eye to eye interview... It's too bad her eyes never see the f*cking camera... She might not be looking but we all giggled watching her play an erotically orgasmic game of air cat's cradle... I've never seen a girl more into a set of fingers, it's like a lesbian watching porn.

Seriously, put your f*cking hands down...  Your hands don't "emanate and radiate good health and care" just because you've got them stuffed in a pair of gloves or your crotch all day...  I knew a boy who lived in a bubble once and he was definitely not a goddamn picture of health....
Exactly who does do the mondaine things in this girls life? Because the mondain things for her might be a nightmare for me... The shit goes both ways, Susan... Here's an example... for me, wiping my ass is extremely mondaine.... but because this mondaine task is a complete nightmare for you, your poor personal hygine also becomes a tragically disgusting nightmare for me... While you think your fantastically fickle phalanges express a healthy glow, your personality and shitty situation radiates compulsively neurotic sickness...

Here's another one that is going to break your heart.. unless you have just pulled them out of a vat of paint, basically everyone's hands are a neutral tone.

It's true Ellen, I am in awe. Not because you can make a living off of 5 inches. Believe me, I know a lot of guys back in college who made a full time living on much less... Old news... I'm in awe because someone has let you get away with no cooking, no cleaning, no opening cans or doors.... It's kind of ironic that everyone wants to take our subpar meager little hands and bitchslap you right in your finger fetish f*cking smile. We are not falling for it.

I'm just going to go out on a limb here and say, there is definitely no man in your life....and no, it is not because of your overly selfish and lazy demeanor. It's your face... or your greasy wet look perm... but this Laura Ingalls Wilder act you've going isn't doing shit for your situation. Perhaps you should take a few minutes away from your hands and spend sometime on your fucking grill, it's about as repulsive as your personality. Thank god your a hand model.

May i suggest that it is about time you discovered another body part?.... It's called a vagina. Just a guess but when you figure out what it is, you may just forget about those fingers all together... at least 8 or 9 of them.

Baby steps..... If we work on this a bit who knows, you may find some guy who would be fine with opening your cans, turning your pages, and wiping your ass..... After all, it could be a dream come true for him... think about it... He would never have to talk to you... He could always be the one to work the remote... He could take your hard earned cash every time in cards because you always believe you have the best hand... And you are definitely the only girl who could have a multiple old faithful doublebarrel squirtfest just by watching yourself give a hand job.