Category: News

Poor Sharkey can’t post a slice of the day because of his alcohol cruise. What he’s not telling you is that he’s tanked up on loads and loads of fruity, girly, non-BAMFish drinks with little umbrellas. It’s alright, dude; even the biggest mofo in the world has to be whipped by the woman on occasion.

How about a slice anyway, since he ain’t around?

Why stop there? How about eleven of them?

(That link isn’t even remotely worksafe, unless your boss is named Hef.)

We’re on our way from Catalina to Ensenada right now. Everyone I know is asleep, the fucking pansies. I just enjoyed a hot tub with a bunch of 17-year olds here with their parents. These two morons (one going into the Army and the other into stoner oblivion) are hooking up with chicks they met while on vacation with their parents, can you beleive that shit? I was like them at one point, probably less of a complete fuck-up, but I wasn’t completely beyond comporable stature. Now I’m the drunk twentysomething prick sitting in their jacuzzi talking about how when I was their age bla bla boring fucking bla.

That’s some depressing shit right there. They are sleeping with fresh 17-year old honeys, while I have to go back downstairs and share a bed with a decaying old 19-year old. Sheesh, I am an old man.

I’m kidding, of course. I’m on a fucking Royal Carribean cruise with a blonde under 20 while you sit with your dick in your hands hoping that I’m posting another Slice Of The Day, which sadly, I am not. I know, I’m a mean drunk, but that’s why you love me so much.

By the way, this whole cruise has renewed my hatred of all mankind, which means that world domination gets it’s long-deserved jumpstart upon my return. If you don’t want to get hung by your thumbs, I suggest you read the archives and study your anti-tard technique. Meanwhile, your fearless leader is going to find the last open bar down in the casino before passing out in a hallway somewhere. Leadership is hard work bitch, take a cue from my actions and exude initiative.

I don’t know if the wobbling is from the waves or last nights alco-fest. It was the formal night, so I had my one chance to bust out my new $300 suit. Now that I have displayed my fucking sexy sexiness, it can be retired to the closet with the one I wore at that 8th grade dance.

Were on the little boat that shuttles you to Catalina. There were plans of parasailing and scuba diving, but its too damned cold so we’ll probably take advantage of the rest of Catalinas amenities, namely miniature golf and the boat ride back to the ship. I love this place though, I have no idea why. Probably because everyone drives golf carts everywhere, like palm springs without the elderly or the scorching heat.

Finally we’re docking. Since I’ve wasted this much of your time already, let me take a minute to increase the google rankings and Ill be on my way. *ahem*.

ass ass ass ass ass tits pie christina aguilera fucking tony danza. Thank you, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

It’s not every day that you come across a statement that is so universally applicable that it can be used in almost every situation known to man. For example, I don’t recall coming across one yesterday. But today I did.

To save you from clicking a link to read a dull article, I have provided a dull, basically inaccurate paraphrasing of the article right here: two Amish guys buy some land that has a zoning ordinance prohibiting horses. They promptly move in with their horses, council won’t change the zoning, now they face fines.

Daniel King, one of the Amish guys heretofore referenced (lol legalspeak lol) had this to say:

“We’re living in America here. I can’t believe you can’t have a horse for religious transportation,” King said. “It makes no sense at all.”

Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK? That was until I realized this is the answer we have all been looking for.

store clerk: “sorry, we are out of pokemon cards”
me: “We’re living in America here. I can’t believe you can’t have a horse for religious transportation”
store clerk: *explodes*

boss: “budget is down, so that new dual xeon with 2 gb ram you needed to access the Internet won’t be approved for another two months”
me: “We’re living in America here. I can’t believe you can’t have a horse for religious transportation”
boss: *explodes*

Zen.

(ed note: this is the part where I wrote up an extremely poignant argument why people shouldn’t get special treatment because of their religion la la la I’m so smart and shit. Then I deleted it. You can thank me in comments.)

Well, I am now standing on the deck of the Monarch Of The Seas wearing a dorky life preserver amidst a sea of similarly fated vacationers. I figured as long as I’m being forced to abandon fun for a few minutes, I may as well channel my spite in your direction.

So far the trip has been great. The gf’s brother snuck us ahead of the four hour line by charming the pants off a platinum club level check-in girl. The whole thing seems pretty fucking awesome, free food and whatnot. Unfortunately I did not hit the bar prior to this demonstration, which has turned a party-happy crowd into a bunch of whining crybabies. Sorry kids, but I drown any sorrows I come across in liquor, and I don’t need a lifejacket to pull myself back out. There are paramedics for that.

Whoops, they’re teaching us how to use the buckles now, id better pay attention. Nate, Jacko, and everyone else I’m too lazy to acknowledge by name: the site is in your hands for a few days. I expect fresh cookies upon my return. Butter-toffee, if possible.

Is it wrong to post a gallery of a girl because her new movie has just come out, even though you know that the movie is going to be such a pile of shit that not even her sweet, delicious ass could get you into a theatre? Why fucking bother with the hard questions, dumbass. Eliza Dushku is waiting.

So aside from the pie, I’d just like to voice my dissappointment in the lack of kudos received for my excellent five-minute Screech ‘shop job from a couple of days ago. Personally I thought it was fucking golden, but some people just don’t appreciate that extra effort it seems.

Here’s my quick and simple movie review for this Spike Lee joint: My girlfriend sucks, but not as much as the movie she chose. The greatness of Edward Norton could not save this piece of shit. I think Spike Lee’s rapport with the rest of the world is not at all unlike that of a couple who’s child got dropped on its head a few too many times as a baby. The kid keeps making shitty crayon drawings over and over again, and the parents keep placating him. “It’s good honey, go show daddy and let mommy enjoy her chardonnay.”

Of course, I’m the prick who supported him by renting the fucking thing, so I’m patting him on the head and putting it on the refridgerator with a little magnet just like the rest of America. Is it too late for adoption?

Today’s slice can once again be attributed to the Baron of Slice, LP. She’s known as the “hot chick” from S Club 7 to fellas who are gay enough to even know about S Club 7. Welcome to gayness kiddies, via the delectable Rachel Stevens.

Holy crap, I gotta start listening to gay music more often.

Of course by “listen”, I mean “turn down the volume on the music videos while salivating over pieces of ass such as this”. But if you didn’t know that, you’re probably sans-wang and were therefore born without the logical faculties necessary to comprehend such complex aesthetic pleasures as the ones to be found at SOTD.

…alright, that last bit was bullshit. But it sounded good, right ladies?

The fact that this even made it to a courtroom saddens me. Thankfully, it’s in the UK, because I’d hate to think of my tax dollars going to waste on something so pointless. Because if there’s one thing we American’s can’t stand, it’s wasting time and money. Right?

As I mentioned the other day, I’m going on a cruise. It’s a pretty fancy-pants kind of cruise as well, which is just fine by me. However, with the revelation of a “formal night” event during our trip, I have been forced to buckle down and do something that I’ve been putting off for about five years: buying a suit. The only thing I’ve owned with a relationship to a suit had the prefixes “swim” or “monkey” attached to them, and neither will go well with my partner’s outfit. And by “go well” I mean “not be seen as even remotely funny enough to allow me to have sexual relations again”. Hence my new quest to acquire a suit that doesn’t make me look like a complete ass.

Now don’t get me wrong, while I have wanted a nice suit for quite some time, I haven’t purchased one because a situation has never, ever arisen where I would even consider wearing the damned thing. Not only that, but I hate ties, I hate fancy shoes, and I certainly hate the discomfort of my shoulders being pinched by $400 worth of material. Therefore, you can see that I am unenthusiastic about spending what could be a nice piece of home theatre equipment on something that will sit in my closet until the next time that I feel like being uncomfortable-yet-stylish for a few hours.

With these feelings put on the backburner, I have decided to shop around a bit for the big purchase. Being the ass that I am, I like to go into these places and see what kind of treatment I garner while wearing a t-shirt and jeans. I personally have a problem with any place that treats me like I don’t belong simply because I’m wearing Vans, so I always test the waters by acting as high-and-mighty as possible while looking like your average construction worker, sans handlebar moustache. After my wanderings, let’s take a look at the results.

Stores visited: 6.
Suits purchased: 0

Every single time I walk into one of these places, they always look at me like I’m lost. This area is loaded with quirky dot-com millionaires, you’d think that if a guy walked up to the most expensive suits while looking slightly better than a hobo, he might be one of them. But in every single instance, I was hassled beyond belief and never asked if I wanted to try anything on. In fact, at the fucking Men’s Wearhouse the guy actually picked on me for browsing around in the “regulars” section when I am obviously a “long”. So sorry to offend you, let me leave your place of business and you can get back to peddling suits all day for 9 bucks an hour at a store sandwiched inbetween Target and a gas station.

Anyway, as I’m sure you can tell, I’m frustrated, and so are the 6 sales associates that I’ve verbally abused within the last three days (I think one was going to cry). I’m looking for some ideas of where to get a suit, not too expensive (as it will sit untouched in my closet for the next 5 years) and perhaps where sales associates don’t go looking for punches to the gullet region.