Author: Sharkey

We’re celebrating my sisters birthday and giving her send off as she country hops to finish college. The only appropriate venue for such a simultaneously pertinent event, and that’s Vegas.

Upon arrival at the Nugget, the girlfriend and I were bumped up to a two story suite. I’m currently posting this from the jacuzzi that overlooks a gigantic view of their new pool slash aquarium thing. There’s a bar, two bathrooms, a bidet, mirrored ceilings, and a private steam room.

After all the years of pilfering my pocket, Vegas gave something back. Now I’m really afraid. Our relationship was much like the tithing plate to a young Catholic parishioner. One donates his change out of love and respect. The other invents new ways to take said freely given monies in the most ass rapingly painful way possible. This room is like a giant tube of KY… who knows what Vegas plans to violate me with next?

Do you think it was a bigger feat to break 2000 yards in one season or slice 2 necks in one night?

Glad to know that his quest for the real killer is still going strong. The Bill Walsh thing brought the lol.

When I read that post by Peaches, I wished deep down that she had somehow hit the reset button on the Internet and set us back to 5 years ago when we first posted it. (I read it again and laughed anyway)

I’ve been spending some time dipping into the archives, trying to find the inspiration to post here again and save you from the rampant internet boredom that currently afflicts yours truly. Every Goddamned site on the web seems to be the same thing these days, it’s like a lampoon of what BAMF (and admittedly a bajillion other sites) used to be. And we were a fucking lampoon in the first place, so we really didn’t need any more focus in that area.

We talk a lot about celebrities, their tits, and their various rap sheets. But even that has become boring and repetitive. Ooh look, Lindsay Lohan got arrested and Britney went apeshit. Christ, the shamefully bogus Miss Cleo could have predicted both of those events in her sleep and still had time to fake her Rastafarian twang. Just look at the big “celebrity gossip” sites today, it’s the same fucking thing across all of them. Dina Lohan is getting sued, a bunch of non-involved doctors think that Britney is crazy, Tara Reid has a disgusting figure, and Heidi Montag is their version of a running gag. Here’s a hint cocksuckers, if you didn’t care then you wouldn’t put up her blatantly posed “paparazzi” photos.

Then you’ve got funny web videos. I don’t know, something about the advent of Youtube and their ilk, I’ve just not found it very necessary to share shit like Chocolate Rain and its vast array of clever parodies. We have a fairly hefty youtube thread for that, which probably has about 70 posts to go before Raygun (yeah, he’s alive. i owe someone 20 bucks.) burns it out of spite and then we start anew.

I don’t know, it just seems like everything has been done to death. Maybe its me, maybe its getting older, but everything out there just bores me to tears. Someone entertain me for once, please. Daddy needs it.

Kid Struck By Lightning While Playing Mortal Kombat, Raiden Not Involved

Ho Ho, funnyman. This poor kid dies, and everyone makes fun of him just because the circumstances are hilarious? Is that what we’ve come to as a society?

Good. It’s about time everyone else caught up.

The Ninth Album: Is there hope left for Metallica?

No.

“Harry Potter and the Legion of Fucking Nerds with Lighter Wallets” Sells 8.3 Million Copies In 24 Hours

Finishing a book can be a very satisfying experience, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a moment to ruin that for any Harry Potter fans out there. Right now, somewhere in Orange County, Billy Ray (the guy who wrote the iPhone review, and couldn’t get through the title without making a serious grammatical error) is also feverishly making his way through Harry’s latest magical adventure. This is the same fellow who limits his non-Potter reading to Star Wars novels (not joking) yet cannot pronounce the word heir or spell the word rogue.

Something never rubbed me the right way about the Potter series from the beginning. They work well as 90 minute flicks, but I couldn’t bring myself to get more than a few pages into any of the novels. In discussing the last book with my sister, who was very satisfied to have finished it last night, I think I figured out why I have such a problem with them. I just identify way too much with the bad guy. Let’s break down a young wizard’s life, in chronological order:

1. You are born into a magical world where you’re told to segregate yourself from the non-magical folk (unless you find a cute one, then you fuck her and have half-breed babies) due to a mixture of precaution and racial elitism.
2. Somewhere around your eighth birthday, you accidentally blow up a family pet. Your father brings it back from the dead, and then goes back to grilling up some dragonburgers. Business as usual.
3. You go off to school just like a normal chump, but you get to learn how to turn animals into cups and fly around on brooms.
4. You hook up with numerous chicks, partly due to teenage rebellion, partly due to the fact that Quiddich really gets those panties wet.
5. Your later scholastic career is a whirlwind experience of the supernatural, where you are constantly reminded that you must restrain yourself because your powers are too great to wield all willy-nilly.
6. Finally, your graduation day looms. And despite the fact that you can blow up anything by pointing a stick at it, your guidance counselor tells you that you’d make an excellent file clerk.

I can see why you might go power crazy and start killing some motherfuckers. Shit, look at Ron’s family. How can you be poor when you can fly? Fuck the Ministry of Magic or whatever, I’m going to be the world’s richest courier. You can teleport from place to place through the Goddamned chimneys, and you don’t decide to become a drug mule?

And I know, there are rules and restrictions. The ministry will throw your ass into Azkaban, a place where they torture and maim the souls of the inmates. So you’ve gotta go around living your life like a normal schlub, except you can do all kinds of amazing things that you’re not really allowed to do. Then you have to sit back and watch the non-magical people fuck up the planet with pollution and war. You can turn tanks into carousels, but you’re not allowed to round up a few dozen colleagues to go solve the Iraq conflict. Christ, the world of wizards is almost a police state. Voldermort wasn’t a villain, he was a liberator.

…wow, I’ll do just about anything to avoid work.

6-Year Old Girl Disemboweled In Kiddie Pool

This is very sad, but it’s oddly the exact beginning of a Chuck Pahlaniuk story called “Guts.” I went over to Chuck’s site to make sure I had the title right, and the bastard had already put this article up and made the comparison. So since he stole that idea from my brain, I say you forgo buying any of his books and just steal them somehow. As his books generally revolve around the darker side of humanity, I can’t imagine he could blame you.

That’s really the only explanation for her latest blog post:

I apologize to the pap for a stunt that was done 4 months ago regarding an umbrella. I was preparing my character for a role in a movie where the husband never plays his part so they switch places accidentally. I take all my roles very seriously and got a little carried away. Unfortunately I didn’t get the part.

What makes it even better is knowing that Britney must have done the initial post on her own, as she left in a few hillbilly-identifying misspellings amidst her lies and vacant apologies.

So considering the fact that Ms Spears-Federline-Alexander is a method actor, much like her contemporaries Brando and Deniro, one must wonder if she’s currently studying for a role as a fat, washed-up coke whore. If so, this is going to be one fan-fucking-tastic flick.

There’s not much one can say about Megan Fox, other than “she’s a stone cold… uh… sex panther. yeah, that’s it.” Honestly, I’m usually too hard to say anything, what with the blood loss and all.

For those of you living in a cave without internet access, television, or fully functioning private parts, Megan here is the smokin’ hot babe in Transformers. Go ahead and check out Megan’s full gallery over at SOTD.

Chris Benoit and his family were found dead at their home in Fayetteville, Georgia. That’s pretty tragic. I actually saw that guy wrestle one time, at the one and only wrestling match that I’ve ever attended.

Investigators have not disclosed exactly how the three died. But Fayette County District Attorney Scott Ballard said investigators were not seeking any suspects outside the home where Benoit apparently took his own life after killing his wife and son.

“We’re viewing it at the moment as a murder-suicide,” Ballard told CNN.

“We aren’t foreclosing the possibility that it might be a triple murder but our belief at the present time is that there is no killer at large,” he added.

Benoit’s employer, World Wrestling Entertainment, said in a statement on its Web site that he canceled two events in Texas over the weekend, citing an undisclosed family emergency.

It took sifting through the first five articles on Google News before I could find one that didn’t use the word “bizarre” about fifteen times throughout its body.

My cousin will be devastated if this is all true. Though he admits is a “reformed” WWF/E fanatic, he can still be found watching the latest episodes every week when he thinks nobody is around.