Mr. Ray and His Hair Weaves...

Consider this us reaching out. We've been rockin' the same Jerri Curl for the last twenty years and as much trim as it's brought us, we've been looking to maybe update to a sweet fade or a tight weave or something. We've searched high and low and we can't seem to find anybody that's able to slap one of those satellite-shaped weaves on our head, and even worse, we called our ol' boy Ray who used to be our go-to when it came to a night of turnin' bitches out and making inappropriate sexual comments to unsuspecting white girls, but his old number is gone, along with the free consultations he used to provide. This is really all kinds of unfortunate because sitting around having our curlys weaved in and brushed through with motor oil was one of our only refuges from the daily rigors of getting up at noon, smoking weed, sitting on the steps, and avoiding creditors. It was also a helpful way to avoid process servers and recognizance orders, but we can just hide in our white chick's basement for that, so it's not a total loss. Plus, she makes a mean Kraft Dinner and we've yet to see a bill with our name on it, so, shit's apparently on the up and up right now.

Tom Cruise is fucking C.R.A.Z.Y...

TOM CRUISE IS A HIGHLY RANKED SPACE CADET

We haven't got the slightest clue of what Scientology is or what it entails, but we do know that Tom Cruise is bat shit crazy and that little video above will help you to understand that a little better than our word on the matter. If you were to sit some fat blind nerd down in front of the monitor that same fat blind nerd would try and convince you that he was watching reruns of Battlestar Gallactica when really it was Tom Cruise dropping more acronyms than a psychiatrist in a public school and not making any goddamn sense in the process. We can't figure out what the hell KSWs and SPs and shit are and we don't really care, but when Tom Cruise starts railing on about being the only guy in the world that can save anybody, we started having flashbacks of "Days of Thunder" and thought ourselves woefully inept as we drank some stuff we found under the sink to help us find the larger meaning of that douche bag and his race car while we came up with nothing. At one point he says something to the effect of: "when a Scientologist drives by an accident, we have to stop, because we know we're the only ones who can help". Well, we found that shit interesting because we remembered there was this thing called the fucking fire and paramedics department that have been doing a bang-up job for all of our lives and the many years that preceded those and maybe we're jaded and perhaps even glib, but if we're trapped underneath our piece of shit Geo Metro, we can assure you that the last thing we want to see is Tom Cruise on a mission from Captain Kirk running towards our fireball and dragging our drunk asses out from underneath to a camp where we have to listen to that laugh for even one second more. The leader can kindly suck our balls. Although, from what we've heard, that's the goal around there, so whatever.

UPDATE: Those motherfuckers from the Church of Scientology have slapped a copyright suit on just about anybody that's fit to wear one and since we don't provide any of our own content 'cause we aren't paying for that shit, every video of that cyborg has been taken down with a nice writ attached to it. So basically Tom Cruise can go fuck himself and at the same time, we're just going to go ahead and point out the irony of these douche bags trying to spread the word of a fucking science fiction writer (!) and then threatening people that do just that. Perhaps their ideas are only attractive when put in the context of a gun to your head and shackles around your legs rather than some snarky commentary and a little common sense. Almost how Tom Cruise was considered a heartthrob until somebody exposed his control panel.

UPDATE the SECOND: He's back spreading the lunacy people... Gawker media has basically told the "authorities on the mind" that they're not the authorities on the law and they're going to gladly exercise their first amendment rights (America) to publish what they consider newsworthy. We'll also agree that this is newsworthy because if jumping on couches and losing it on morning show hosts wasn't enough for you all to realize that this degenerate is a complete fanatic, maybe this will be enough to get you to stop renting "Mission: Impossible". Like seriously, if you rent that movie you're an idiot anyway, but now instead of just having that as a feather in your cap, you can thank yourself for contributing to a demonstrably worse universe where people like this have more money than most third world governments.

Sexy Rexies.... We're all about them...

Unfortunately, this picture does not turn into a video because god knows, of all people, we'd engender the most enjoyment from watching this bony-ass chick clumsily stumble her way back to her trailer. But that's really not the point of this post. We're simply using this photo to convey how odd and suspicious we always find it to be when people lose mass quantities of weight. We understand that for the better part of society the notion of losing weight allows the general public to glean the idea of health, conservation, and mostly, a commitment to a better life surrounded by people of the same ilk, but realistically, we just want to make a point where the underlying veracity does not bare the overwhelming reality. This is not meant as some sort of castigation on behalf of our fat ass nor is it some admonition of what the underlying personal variables are in the never-ending quest to be thin, but goddamn it, we have a single-wide trailer and enjoy cocaine as much as you so fuckin' share would ya? I understand that you've let everybody know that your discipline is now intact and that you've supposedly just reached a point where you decided that you were either going to be fat and unloved or confused, anorexic, and loved and you chose the latter so we don't pass any judgment, but for the love of god, we know your secret, we gave you the guy's number, and if nothing else, we'd like a little thanks and we're willing to take it in the form of 5 inch lines, thank you very much. By the way, your secret is safe with us and truthfully, we never had any respect for you in the first place so maybe when you're done cutting those lines up, you can return to your kid that probably doesn't need your advice anyway but demands that you spend at least a modicum of time with them so that in the end it turns out that the remnants of yourself are at least a well-adjusted kid and not just a Zip-Loc bag of vomit and criminal record that states your affinity for prostitution. Sleep tight.

Christmas at Our House...

It's been a few days since we've posted, but we've good reason; It's Christmas! We've attached a video for you all to enjoy of our Christmas morning celebration with the kids and Grandpa stumbling in drunk. Don't feel sorry for us even though we had to replace the hinges on the trailer door. Let this be a lesson to all of you. When Grandpa comes rolling through the door drunker than a seaman on shore leave at 9:00am, you'd better be thankful that he passed out early last night and was able to get his drinking in early this morning, 'cause he's bearing gifts and goddamn it if there's a time earlier than that and if you think that drunken clod spent 65 years of his life drinking and impregnating unsuspecting women for the hell of it, you're wrong. He did it to see his grandsons open gifts and when you get to the point where you can't even stand your own company without the help of your old friend Jack, maybe then you'll understand how much some company can mean to you. As it stands, Jack is also one of our oldest friends, and maybe that's coincidence and maybe it's not, but frankly, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and at least we've devised no fewer than 14 excuses as to why that whiny little fetus isn't ours. Mostly because after a little math with our piece of shit calculator that doesn't calculate anything but dollars and cents we've reached the conclusion that having kids is goddamn expensive and although we've heard of some intrinsic benefit, we're naturally skeptical and overly so because we've yet to see a kid that dispenses Whiskey rather than drinks ours.

We're Not Going to Take This Anymore

No, we're not going to make a blonde joke; I doubt she's even a natural blonde. Instead, we're going to promote the use of ridicule. Obvioulsy this young lady has not been ridiculed for her blatant ignorance enough in her life. The reasons are obvious: She's hot. She wasn't ridiculed
by guys, because even those who had no chance of sleeping with her still didn't have the guts to ridicule such a pretty face, risking the oppurtunity of being at the right place when she made the inevitable mistake of sleeping with some loser. Of course, there were those who did realize that they had no chance, and would bitterly sneer as she raised her hand in class, awaiting another gem to slip from her moist lips. But of course, these embittered souls never had the guts to ridicule her to her face. And the other girls were just as bad; sure, they'd ridicule her behind her back, but again, never to her face. That would threaten their friendship with the most popular girl in school, and they couldn't have that. Even the biggest hater amongst the girls
would put on that fake smile for this bombshell, so as not to raise suspicion; after all, they couldn't risk their invitation to the cool parties. Though, we don't want to make this girl seem stupid, necessarily, just ignorant. I'm sure she could hustle more money from an old rich guy than 50 cent could from an alley full of crack heads. But still, this show of ignorance is not acceptable. She doesn't even seem ashamed. Yes, we need more ridicule in the world. So, to our loyal readers, please have the balls to ridicule this kind of ignorance, no matter how hot the person it's coming from is. We all have to do our part to make this world a better place.

Somewhere This is Acceptable... But Not Here.

Here's a picture that was sent to us by one of our sick-fuck buddies who thought this was funny. Obviously we thought it was funny too, but we're not even going to comment on it because we'd rather have a challenge and joke that didn't write itself. On that other hand, if we were you we wouldn't be laughing, 'cause if you go to the next room you'll find you're basically laughing at yourself.

Oh, and; No, maybe if completely wasted, no, and no.

Cat Scratch Fever...

So here's a video of our good pal Enrique Iglesias on a sound stage during the making of a video. You must watch to fully appreciate where we're going with this. We were going to get all snarky and start talkin' shit about how this guy can't sing to save his life and that if he didn't have enough electronics in the studio to satisfy even your mother, he'd sound like a cat being sucked through a radiator, but we won't. Instead we're just going to remind you of the fact that he's fucking Anna Kournikova and you're still nailing that fat chick you picked up at the bar whose stomach rolls over her low-rise jeans because you're such a horny bastard that not even your dignity can save you from your penis and that should be just about enough for you to realize who you can make fun of, and who you can't. At this point you probably don't even qualify to tea bag this guy, so the best thing you can do is use this video for instruction. And unlike the rest of the ones you watch, this one isn't to be masturbated to. Peace.