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I want to play this game so bad it makes my toe knuckle hair turn gray.  Little athletic ability necessary?  Check.  Get to hit people?  Check.  I’ll probably be the biggest guy out there?  Ring Ding Ding Ding Ding, yup I need this game in my life.

I wonder how long until this shit is dominating ESPN and Monday Night 防衛大 棒倒し 激闘 is giving Monday Night Football a run for its money.  Seriously, let’s take a look at some things Asians have brought to America.

An Italian plumber killing mushrooms for coins, huh?  Crazy Asians.  Bam – multi billion dollar video game industry.

Karate, huh?  Okay Bruce Lee – karate is for pussies.  Crazy Asians.  Bam – Boxing is dead, MMA taking over.

Eating dead fish with pieces of wood?  Da fuck?  Crazy Asians.  Bam – Absurdly overprices sushi places are the hotness.

You keep doing your thing Asians, I love it.

PS.  I noticed that each team has different color pants.  I wonder if back in the day, some guy at the top of the stick had his shirt ripped off, and the ref was like who are you, what team?  Dude was like, I’m Lee.  And the refs were like, bro, there’s like 50 Lees on each team you schmuck and you all look the same, DNA test it is.

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Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through the area

Were kids getting drunk, it couldn’t be scarier (boston accent, duh)

We’d wake up hungover, and then stuff our face

To celebrate the genocide of a near extinct race!

 

I’m no history buff so I could be wrong here, but Thanksgiving celebrates when the pilgrims and the Indians had a nice big meal, before the Indians got straight up merked.  Is that right?  Either way I am definitely down with any excuse to get disgustingly drunk, throw down an obscene amount of food, and have everyone in the family explain in detail the problems we have with each other.  In fact, why stop at Thanksgiving?  Were any meals shared with the Africans before they were tossed in a ship?  Did anyone ever break bread with Bin Laden?  Cmon now, it’s a celebration bitches!

A few things about Thanksgiving and Indians

1. I have no problem calling them Indians

I understand that this is offensive, but it also has some fun history behind it!  Columbus thought he was in India.  I’m in India, the people here are Indians – Columbus.  Boom roasted.  Seriously though, I don’t think I know anyone who says this word with hate or malice, and isn’t the main beef with offending people the hate and the malice?  Whatever Indians, deal with it.

2.  ”We” have no obligation to feel guilty about what happened to the Indians

There is no question that what happened to the people that were here before the Europeans is one of the most horrific things that has happened to a people in recorded history.  It was blatant European ethnocentricity, racism, hate, murder, and genocide.  It sucked.  But like my man Bart Simpson says, I didn’t do it.  Columbus was an Italian who sailed for Spain and did some horrible things.  The Pilgrims were from England.  This shit started happening before the Americas had modern day horses and before the Irish had potatoes, it was a long time ago.  It was a horrible thing to happen that I had nothing to do with.  Do I feel bad?  Yes.  Do I feel guilty?  No.

3.  Modern day Indians in America are hooked the fuck up

I was at Foxwoods this past weekend.  I played a bit of poker, a bit of blackjack, and I made a few hundred bucks.  It was a nice weekend.  Do you know how much the Mashantucket Pequot tribe made?  Okay, so I just did some research and it turns out they’re in $2 billion worth of debt, but still!  Casinos are moneymakers, I thought….  I also had a big rant ready about how they get to go to college for free, and my research again proved that this is not necessarily the case.   There is something called the BIA, the Bureau of Indian Affairs (even they call themselves Indians) They give out money to Indians going to college if they need it, which is sweet, I guess.  I was under the impression they got government funded porn stars sent to their houses.  Well fuck me.

 

Well, turns out being Indian sucks, what are you gonna do.  Happy Thanksgiving!

 

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You ever see someone on the internet that just gets you. You’re just like shit… that’s deep… This little girl nailed this one, Aaron Rodgers makes me cry pretty much every weekend.  No way the Pats, or any team for that matter, has a chance against the Packers.  Straight up WAH session.  Another reason Rodgers makes me cry is when my sister drafted him she asked, “Who’s Aaron Rodgers, is he hot?”  Dude is heat flame fire hot you fantasy dominating bitch.

 

PS – You’re a Vikings fan sweetheart, better get used to crying.

 

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It is Halloween weekend motherfuckers and I have a boner that would make Ron Jeremy blush.  Tonight I am going to my old college house, they are having a party, and it is going to be littered with a bunch of girls who were born in the early 90s putting on their best hoe uniforms.  Giggidy giggidy.  Slutty nurse, slutty cop, slutty Mother Theresa, you name it and these young creative minds will find a way to hoe it out.  Girls and their halloween costumes definitely falls under the category of I don’t know, and I don’t care.  I mean seriously, what the hell are you… ah who fucking cares you look great, nice taint.

I consider myself a master creeper, but as hard as I creep I’m only going to two parties this weekend, and I’m probably only going to see 100 of the millions of hot women showing it off this weekend.  And that is why Mark Zuckerberg is worth every penny of the 50 gajillion dollars he earns every second.  Facebook is going to bring me to halloween parties across the world, it’s a beautiful thing and I’m all for it.  So if you’re one of the 50 girls who I have never met, but have accepted my Facebook friend request, and I am stalking your life, do me a favor and hoe it up hard this weekend.  The Summer’s over, Winter is coming, and I need enough material to get me to Spring.

 

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Yesterday I was hanging with some of my people, one of which had just gotten a bunch of cash from her car insurance company.  She had cashed the check and had about 5gs, straight cash homey.  I asked her if I could make it rain, she told me it was fine as long as I cleaned it up.  So I made it rain hundred dollar bills for about 5 seconds in front of two of my friends and it was fucking awesome.  That is the coolest thing I have ever done.  I made it rain with hundreds that don’t even belong to me in front of two people.  Needless to say the coolest thing I have ever done is not very cool at all.

This dude on the other hand jumped on stage with Atmosphere, got chased by security, stage dove, got away with it, had Atmosphere say… something about him, and it’s on Youtube for the whole world to see.  What a motherfucking boss this guy is.  If I don’t up my “coolest thing I’ve ever done” game by the end of this weekend I may just crawl in a ball, and peace the fuck out.

 

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Last night I watched Horrible Bosses and it was pretty bad.  It had some decent moments, most of them involving Jennifer Aniston, but overall it was a pretty terrible movie.  Even the title, Horrible Bosses, seems so lazy.  The movie is about these three guys who have horrible bosses, let’s name it Horrible Bosses, weak sauce bros.  With creative powers like this they should have called Forrest Gump “Retard Runs Cross Country,” or Philadelphia “Retard from ‘Retard Runs Cross Country’ Gets AIDS.”

I was really hoping Charlie from It’s Always Sunny would have brought the  heat flame fire like he does in his show, but honestly he kind of sucked.  In Horrible Bosses he plays a guy who peed in a playground at night and is a registered sex offender, very Charlie-esque, but he’s engaged and has a job as a dental assistant.  Charlie from It’s Always Sunny would never get engaged, and most certainly could never lock down a job as a dental assistant, guy is way too much of a disaster for that.  So even though his character in Horrible Bosses is somewhat of a mess, he looks like a genius compared to Charlie who huffs paint, can’t read, and cleans toilets.

Overall movie sucked, but Jennifer Aniston was awesome, hot and sexy as hell.  ”You’re gonna fuck my slutty little mouth,” Wow.

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RadioSurvivor.com – An unlucky DJ at WBIM at Bridgewater State University in Bridgewater, Massachusetts was confronted with threats to “shoot up” the station after refusing to grant a particular listener’s requests to play a song by the punk rock band Rufio. According to an article in The Enterprise, “…WBIM received multiple calls from a man requesting a song they didn’t have, said program director and junior Thomas Hanley. When the man called back, he threatened to ‘come in with a gun and shoot up the place,’ according to Eva Gaffney, a spokeswoman for the university.”

Although the caller, 24-year-old former WBIM DJ Alex Finnegan, claims that his threats were “a joke,” he was arrested on Tuesday and “charged with making a threat with serious public harm, a felony, and making a threat to commit murder, a misdemeanor.” The Enterprise article notes that when he was arrested, Finnegan was wearing a WBIM T-shirt.

First I would like to point out that I was a DJ on WBIM for 3 semesters when I was going to Bridgewater.  The name of my show was BazzleBabble (Thanks Dani)  Once a week for 3 semesters, taking into consideration shows that I missed, I would assume I had about 2 dozen shows.  In my 2 dozen shows I received about 3 phone calls total.  One was from my mom, one was my boss yelling at me because I played an unedited Outkast song, and one was my roommate pissed that I wouldn’t answer my cell phone wondering where my scale was.  The phone lines were never exactly blowing up.  So the fact that this Finnegan character called and threatened to merk everyone in the school while I wasn’t there is pretty annoying.  The most exciting thing that ever happened was I thought the FCC was going to come at me, far less intimidating than a dude threatening to Columbine your ass.

Second, how great is it that this dude got arrested for threatening to shoot up WBIM while wearing a WBIM shirt.  That’s like Hitler rocking a yamaka, or Bin Laden rocking a I <3 NY shirt.  Your Honor, why the fuck would I threaten to do that, look at what I’m wearing.  C’mon.

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Haha, word.

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For those of you have never seen it, Weeds is a show about a woman, Nancy Botwin, whose husband dies of a heart attack so she starts selling weed to support her family.  She eventually gets deeply entangled in the drug game, drama ensues, blah blah blah.  The first 3 or 4 seasons of this show were un-fucking-believeable.  It was wildly entertaining, and funny, with characters who evolved into people the viewer cared about.  It was one of those shows where you would download a whole season and watch it in one sitting even when you didn’t plan on it because you need to sleep and eat.  It won Emmys, it gave me boners, it was awesome.

Fast forward to the end of season 7 and oh my god what the fuck did you do to one of my favorite shows?  Seasons 5-6 saw the show go through a steady decline in entertainment.  The characters became predictable, the writers got lazy, the plot was dumb, the viewer stopped caring.  Where’s the comedy?  Where’s the sexual tension between Nancy and Andy?  Where are the “Oh my god!” moments?  What the fuck have you done?  Season 7 started off painfully awful, but I kept watching.  It took about 5 or 6 episodes to start getting somewhat interesting, but nowhere near the level of entertainment it was in the first few seasons.

*SPOLIER ALERT*

In the final episode Weeds pulls a move straight out of The Sopranos playbook.  There’s a dude in the bushes looking through a scope about to snipe Nancy in the dome.  A gunshot goes off right as the picture cuts to black.  Is she dead?  Is someone else dead?  Does it even matter?  I ask does it matter because they haven’t even signed on for a season 8 yet.  They don’t even know if the show will continue.  It was somewhat of a “Oh my god” moment, but also felt like the writers couldn’t come up with a creative way to close out the season (or series) and was really more of a “roll my eyes – are you serious?” moment.

*END OF SPOILER ALERT*

If Weeds has no more new episodes, I will still consider it a very good show just because the first few seasons were great.  The last few seasons were awful in comparison, and as a fan, that annoys the hell out of me.  If they decide to come back and do more episodes it’s hard to tell where they will go from here, and it seems unlikely it will get back to its greatness of the early years… but yes I will watch.

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I found “blog about Napolean’s cock” in a notebook I was going through last night.  Every time I think I have a great bit of material for a blog or something I usually take note in my iPhone, but this was sloppily scribbled in a work notebook I was going through.  I had no idea what the fuck I was talking about when I wrote this, so I googled “Napolean’s penis” and found that Time magazine has it as the #6 most famous stolen body part of all time.  You can read the full article here.  Long story short, the doctor who was performing the autopsy cut off his johnson, gave it to a priest, it ended up on display in Manhattan, some dude from New Jersey bought it in 1977 for $3,000.  He left it to his daughter when he died and she has been offered $100,000 for it.

Ever since I can remember I have wanted to be famous.  In fact, it’s crossed my mind that if I’m not famous enough to have a Wikipedia page about me by the time I’m 30, I’m probably going to commit some sort of fucked up crime just so that I end up on the news and people know my name.  Well not anymore motherfucker.  I’m not exactly religious, but having had a run in with a ghost (another blog for another day, but it’s fucking true) I know that when you die there is some sort of shit going on.  If I’m famous enough where some doctor is chopping off my dick and I gotta run around the afterlife some dickless idiot I am going to be pretty pissed.  In fact, I might even retire from blogging.  God knows I blog hot fire and this is eventually going to land me some baller ass writing job leading to fame and fortune beyond my wildest dreams.  I dunno anymore man, I dunno…

Ha, who the fuck am I kidding.  I’d rather be a dickless dead famous guy than some schmuck nobody has ever heard of packing a dead johnson.  For those who are curious, below is an actual picture of what Napolean’s pecker is looking like these days.

 

 

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