Category: News

I just lost this goddamned post, so if it lacks in the funny you can go screw yourself with chickenwire. Anyway, here’s a nice slice of The Hulk’s Jennifer Connelly.

You know, Jennifer here is one of my main problems with the flick. Not her exactly, just that the Hulk gets all calm and sedate at the sight of her. Judging from the rhumba that my wang does in my pants when she rides that horse in Career Opportunities, no man can calm himself within her general vicinity.

Since I’m away, I’m sure that you feel terribly, terribly lonely. That’s why I’m going to brighten you day with not one, not two, not three, Hell, not even four slices… Oh wait, yes it is four. Sorry if I got your masturbatory hopes up too high. Anyway, to celebrate what will probably a crappy movie with a highly paradoxical wank factor, lets start off with some new/updated galleries of Lucy Liu, Cameron Diaz, Drew Barrymore, and the hottest cradle robber around, Demi Moore.

So in case you didn’t guess, we made it to Oregon alright. This place is fucking awesome, golf, whitewater rafting, all kinds of goodness. Oregon, ie: the place outside the resort, is pretty lame. No liquor on sundays? Jesus drank wine way back when, I’m sure he’d be kicking back with some bourbon these days. Stupid Oregoniods, they even laughed when we expected our booze after 7PM. If were the idiots, why are you living in this shithole?

Vacation again, this time less of the boozin’ and more of the cruisin’ since were making a 15 hour drive to Oregon. I’m guessing that internet access will be nonexistent up in Sun River. I base this solely on the fact that my prejudgement of any area outside of Southern California denotes a visual not at all unlike Hooterville from Green Acres. Therefore, who is to say whether or not you’ll get any posts from me, so this is the part where I threaten the loyal staffers with painful torture and no dessert if they don’t pick up the slack.

Also, I finally got the future posting script installed, so there are a few saved up slices coming your way. I figure if there’s one thing that might take your minds off of the comedic black hole that exists around here, its titties.

Wow, two slices within a few hours? I’m fuckin’ spoiling you bastards. Next thing you know you’ll want me to be funny or love you or give you shelter. Well fuck off you bastards, you’ll get titties and like it. Thank LP on your way out the door for Nandini Mitra.

Again, not safe for work. Keep it in the pants, fellas.

Why do all rock stars have hot offspring? Well, that is a stupid question. Guys like Steven Tyler fuck hot hot supermodels and out pops some sort of exotically hot piece of ass like Liv Tyler. Although Liv is not our SOTD today, she does deserve an honorable mention. No no, today’s slice is the offspring of Mick Jagger, and we owe our thanks yet again to LP for slappin’ the gallery together. Enjoy a little bit of Jade Jagger, sucka.

I uh… I don’t have much else to say. That doesn’t really matter though, most of you have already left to check if that was a Not-Safe-For-Work gallery…. which it was.

And now we have the homosexuals, hetero women, and working stiffs who cannot get stiff on the job. Sorry bastards.

Some trader on the NYSE got fined 1000 clams for smuggling Gallagher onto the stock exchange floor, so that the *ahem* comedian could smash a coworker over the noggin with a watermelon. What a glorious sense of humor those bloodsucking bottom feeders have.

Arthur Gross smuggled on to the floor an oddball comedian who goes by the name of Gallagher. The comic then removed from his jacket a huge piece of watermelon and smashed it over the head of another trader, Peter Tuchman. Why? Ive got no idea, says my informant. There was no obvious symbolism, and nor did it have anything to do with Gallaghers act. But hiring a comedian to hit someone with a watermelon is contrary to NYSE regulations . . . which clearly cover a wide range of eventualities.

I guess he couldn’t manage to sneak in that hilarious gigantic couch from his act. I know funny kids, and take it from me, adults sardonically sitting on giant things is fucking side-splitting. Take porn starlets for example.

I was driving past the mall today, and I saw a bum standing on the side of the road. At least, I thought he was a bum. Then I looked a little closer and saw that he was clean, wearing a fairly nice shirt, and better shoes than the old Vans I’ve got on. As I rounded the corner, I got a better look at his sign which read, I shit you not: “Please help, need rent.”

At least the bastard was being honest. Well, unless he wants it for crack, which is always a possibility. But for fuck’s sake, he’s in a fairly conservative area, dirty yourself up a bit. Nobody I know would give money to a lazy prick in nice shoes just because he can’t afford the rent. If I’m going to give my money to a lazy jobless prick, I’ll stuff it into my own pocket.

Yet again LP pulls through for us (after an extended hiatus from me) with currently all-over-the-fucking-news Sarah Jessica Parker.

Can’t talk, got a party to hit. I’ll probably post once more when the beast is in me.

Stupid Sharkbot I whipped up to post for me while I was away malfunctioned five minutes after I left. That’s a lesson for you, never make your Sharkbot out of used Aibo and Furby parts. If the fuckers don’t get love and attention every five minutes, they trash your place, shit on the rug and put hidden cameras into the showers of your hot neighbor’s bathroom. That last bit is what I’m going to tell the jury on Thursday, anyway.

So I’m a man who has to complain (not really) about too much vacation. It turns out that I’d completely misjudged the date of my trip to Oregon. Seems that it is this Saturday, one week after my return from Mexico. How does a man so horribly misjudge timing? Do I not have a calendar? On the contrary, I have two. One is turned to February, the other stuck in May. Most people I know call me lazy, personally I think it’s that my brain is so overloaded with obscure movie quotes and random facts involving monkeys that it has no time to actually calculate… well, time.

All of this bullshit is really my way of saying that if you didn’t like the silence of the last few days, tough cookies. At least you weren’t sued by DirecTV this week. Thankfully DirecTV was too expensive for my tastes, or I’d be up for a Big-Brother delivered wiretap. If I don’t have one already. If so, they’ve wasted a lot of your tax dollars listening in on phone sex lines and that Moviephone guy. Oddly enough, both were used for the same purpose.

Customs, customs, customs. If there’s one souvernier that made my 4 grand well spent in Europe last year, it is my lovely, lovely passport. I say this as I look back at a line about 1000 people long who only have a birth certificate, while I cruise right to the front. Too bad the little bastard kid who’s parents thought it would be cute to bestow a ukelele also has a passport. Perhaps he is my penance for expedited service.