So here’s the thing? I know that a lot of you are online dating and looking for love. Let me tell you who is online looking for sex, and kinky parking lot head…….every fucking guy online. Ladies, you have to trust me on this one, for once trust me. I know this may piss off some of the guys out there who read my blog, but fuck you, I’m being honest and hopefully scoring points because I’m a perv too, only I’m honest about it. I’ve never been online to meet a woman, but I know guys who have and the story usually ends with “she licked my asshole and I didn’t know what to do” or “she shit on me man, shit on me.” or “she was crying and jacking me off at the same time, how the fuck do I enjoy that?” I don’t know what the answer is with computer dating, but I know that it’s more of a hook up world than a fall in love world. Call me pessimistic or cynical, but I speak the truth. On a separate note, stop posting pictures of your fucking dogs doing nothing, it’s fucking stupid and we fucking hate it. If you keep doing it then, fuck you and the look on my face should confirm that feeling.
Category Archives: talk show host
What the F do I do?
So here’s the thing: Have you ever messed with a girl a little, you know, flirting and shit, just to see what’s up? Then you go over to her house and this little crazy kid mother fucker comes out talking about, “what’s up homie?” “Why you talkin to my momma?” “What the fuck homie?” Inside of your head your like “fuck you little kid, don’t worry about what the fuck I be doin!” but at the same time this little mother fucker is stacked up, so then you start thinking, “shit, is this little fucker gonna roll me up?” Keep in mind, this dude is like five years old I think, I don’t know, I don’t have those things. Damn! It’s scary like a mother fucker to be afraid of a little kid! I get being afraid of a teenager, they have guns and shit, but a five year old? This mother fucker be like “What’s up homie?, stay away from my mom homie!” He has little veins popping out of his little muscly arms and shit! I haven’t been to the gym in twenty years and this little five year old mother fucker is coming at me with some real shit, man to man type shit! “Watch me do a thousand push ups and beat your ass homie!” “Watch me move your pussy ass car out of the driveway without a key homie!” “I’ve never had a boner and it’s bigger than your’s homie” “If you touch my mom, I’ll touch you’rs homie” “You think you’re funny? It’s because you’re a joke homie” “You think you spit game? Your game is spitless homie” “You looking for Pokemon? I poked your mom homie” On a separate note, if you’re the person that doesn’t turn left on a yellow light after the green arrow, then you’re a whore and I hope you get crabs, just because you made me wait for the next green arrow.
Did you miss me?
So here’s the thing: I’ve been gone for about a year, and I know that you haven’t been the same without me, probably better, but those times are fucking over! I’m on this diet now, and it’s no secret that I’ve lost weight. The depressing part for me is that I have to listen to people basically tell me what a pig I was before, but now, not so much. I have to live with the fact that now I’m not “so much” of a pig, which only means I’m less gross, that’s not a compliment. Fuck you. That’s you being a dick and not realizing it, and if you’re doing it on purpose, that makes you……..well…..a half dead repeating piece of shit! I have to live my life with a “cheat” day now. That’s a fucking old woman thing and I’m saddened by that, but what can I do? A fucking “cheat” day? How about I cheat on my diet by getting a degree in psychology, driving over to all you handsome and in shape guys house, tying you down, feeding you butter while I show you pictures of a little dick and psychologically convincing you that it’s your’s. On a separate note, I was so stoned the other night that I called my mother and asked her what my middle name was, she said “what?”
Well that’s clearly unfortunate…
So here’s the thing: I want you to listen very carefully to the advice I’m about to give you. If you’re someone who enjoys the recreational use of marijuana and also enjoys the occasional cocktail or ten, it’s very important that you never ever keep the Cortizone 10 in the same bathroom cabinet with your toothpaste. Never, ever, do that.
The bartender hates you…
So here’s the thing: If you’re sleeping in the bar it’s time to go home. Don’t tell me “he’s fine, just leave him alone” What a great friend you are that it’s more important that you keep partying than it is to get your friend into a safe environment. I’ll tell you what, how about you take him out of the bar, or Denver PD will, that way it’ll only cost him about five hundred dollars to spend the night in detox. You dick. Ohhhh I’m the asshole because I wont let your friend sleep in the bar? The only thing that will make this situation better is if you argue with me for ten minutes about your friend leaving, then finally decide to carry him out of here while he vomits all over the middle of the dining room, sweet that’s exactly what just happened. I’ll just grab a mop. I should have gone to college.