Hatredy

NEW BLOG URL!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 18:27:00 +0000

New Blog link:

The Lovely Bastards

Come check us out!

Phil, eat a fat cock.

*Sorry bro, we still love you, we meant phat cock.

Farewell To Friends, a.k.a Good Riddance

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 18:15:00 +0000

"This is it what, Luchini pourin' from the sky lets get rich what, this is it what." - Camp Lo

Well my friends, and enemies, it is my great honor and humble duty to have been given this opportunity to speak on behalf of Jon and myself in saying... we are out. Adios amigos, and happy fuckin' trails. We hope that you will follow us to our new blog, which will be up and running by tom. 1/27/09.

A new blog? Why? These are a couple of the questions you may be asking. Here are some of our reasons. (you knew I had to do one last list)

1. The name. "Hatredy" doesn't really appeal to a great number of people. Trying to ask Phil to change the name has proven to be fruitless and is almost as painful as sodomizing yourself with a broken scotch bottle. We like to have alot of fun on this blog, but at the same time, Jon and I like to be serious occasionally. Bottom line, I don't want someone to find my blog on Bobby Murcer's passing and automatically assume that I am flaming the man because the blog is called, "Hatredy."

2. The links Phil has posted on the page. Hilary is mom jeans? What the fuck is that? 'Nuff said.

3. We have no control. When I first started posting on this blog, my posts were edited by Phil without my knowledge. Changing my grammatical errors, ( I was unaware of the spellcheck option... because well... I never looked). I was fine with that. Then he started changing my phrasing. Strike one. He has since stopped that BS, but we still have no control. I can't control what links are put on the site, and the fact that he can change what I have written is more than enough reasoning to want out.

4. We are subtly, and back-handedly reminded that it is not "our" blog from time to time. Really? I would think that two people who have continuously contributed to this Hindenburg of a blog for over a year would have a majority shareholders stake in this thing. Phil, you haven't posted in over six months... and you call it your blog?

5. Phil is the kind of guy who would read this post and respond by posting fifteen Youtube videos about why Barack Obama is the second coming of Christ and how we are all doomed by Global Warming, (which is widely considered by the world's leading scientific minds to be complete bullshit. Sorry Al). I just can't deal with that right now. The new blog will be comprised of Jon and myself. We do not see completely eye to eye on the topics of politics or religion, but we are pretty damn close. Close enough that I doubt that neither he nor myself would not want to be associated with a blog for what one of us posted.

6. It's time to move on. Believe it or not, I actually like blogging now. So does Jon. Why not make it a bit more serious?

So, in the end kids... It's been real. Our posts on this blog will be posted on the new blog and left here as well. Thank you to all those who have been faithful readers. Hatredy, I will miss you, but not your creator. To Phil, sorry buddy... but it had to be done. This was something that interested you for a while, and then faded away... which is kinda what you do. If anything you should have handed the reins over to us. What will interest you next? First it was your car (his dad was totally gonna buy him a mini cooper brodycake), then it was your cat... then you moved... then it was snowboarding... then it was death metal.... then it was tattoos.... then it was your hair.... then it was your dog.... now it's Candy. I hope for all of their sakes you never get a bird, or then it's so long Canderberus Vig VonHooterscook... and hello Tweety!

On behalf of Jon and myself.... Goodbye... and Welcome (to the new blog) Jonnyboy should have the link up and posted on this here site by tom. Later kids, see you at da' new spot.

Hibernating The Hate: A Farewell To Phil

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny F) — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 03:28:00 +0000

Thousands of our readers have been posing the age old adage, “Where is Phil?” I myself would be asking the same question if I wasn’t so busy sighing in relief. Phil has not posted a blog in nearly 6 months, since his George Carlin tribute (which consisted of “I’m sad: now here be 15 YouTube videos of Jorge Karlen, brody”). This led many to believe that he may ascended (or more likely descended) with Mr. Carlin into eternal slumber. Phil is not dead, the hate is just hibernating. It is way too difficult to find the time to come up with an original thought when the only things floating in your damaged brain is your girlfriend/wife, dog, drugs and an occasional work night (just for some spending money) in that particular order. With Phil seemingly engaged to disengage the simulator that is this blog, we bid him farewell. For the fans of his posts, Jon Drama and Johnnyboy will more than suffice providing you some of the same witticism you have come to know and love or hate. Consider us your beacons of hope, shamans of sarcasm, angor night delights and innovators of idiosyncratic idealisms. I once bashed the man in a blog as a gag and inside joke, but if I was a line cook who was financially secure for life and whose only responsibility was to have fun, avoid jail and simply stay alive, I wouldn’t have a great need to write a blog on a site called Hatredy (I’ve always hated that title and it scares away any potential readers) either. As a working stiff who simply would like an easier life myself, I say this to our carefree former blogger:

A Thank You to The Democratic Party, From a Conservative Republican

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Thu, 22 Jan 2009 04:39:00 +0000

Firstly, I do not pretend to be a font of brilliant political thought. I read the National Review and I read the New York Times. To be fair, I read the latter because I believe it to be important to understand your opponent. I am not a racist, I am not a fascist, I am not a sexist, I am not a religious fundamentalist and I fall to the pro-choice side of the abortion issue. I am not a tobacco chewing, moonshine drankin' son of the Confederacy. On the contrary, I am a middle class white male from New England, and more specifically, the New York Metropolitan area. That being said, I would like to comment on how unbelievably ridiculous it is that I have to preface my post with all those facts about me just to dissuade you from the idea that because I am a Republican, I am Cletus the Slack Jawed Yokel, ya know... this guy...

My reason for wanting to thank the Democratic Party is quite simple. By electing a black president, you have unwittingly destroyed one of your most important rallying cries. What can you whine about now?

If we set the clock back to last year, we can see a completely different Democratic landscape. The mere fact that the DNC decided to push Obama past the Clinton political machine, (which rivals Tammany Hall) should have sent up red flags all over the place. Nevertheless, deals must have been made... ahem Mrs. Sec. of State. The Democrats were hell bent on running a black candidate, and because of that, I feel bad for Mr. Obama. They wanted desperately to look like the party of progress, the party of hope and the party of change. What better way to do that than throw a black American into the show. It is almost sickening, because when you boil down to it... yet again we see an instance of rich white people using a black man for their advantage. Way to go progressives, you set the bar high for being manipulative. The underlying damage they did to their ethos was the destruction of their most poignant socio-political point; the proclivity of Americans to be racists. There are a multitude of other issues that the left hold important and essential to their existence, but this one was their trump card.

If we look back to the fall of the Soviet Union, we see the death of the great Conservative cause... the end of European Communism and undeniable victory in the Cold War. Reagan took care of that with the help of Maggie Thatcher.. and a crumbling Soviet economy. Nevertheless, Republicans seemed lost after that pivotal moment in world history. Small issues were then manically thrown into the forefront of our political thought as Republicans, and things such as prayer in school, gun laws, and abortion rights were given far too much attention. Attention that would have been aimed at ending the Cold War, and more importantly, winning it. If you lose every dime you've ever made in a fire, you will more than likely be hell bent on getting it back. You will put all of your effort into recovery. It may take years, and you will become accustomed to having to put a ton of effort into one aspect of your life. When you gain that fortune back... what do you do with the surplus energy? Undoubtedly, you will expend it on important yet somewhat petty things until people start to shy away from you because you tend to seem "manic" in their eyes. Republicans eventually found their way back to the Republicanism of the Roget's Dictionary definition and decided a return to the fundamental principle of Republicanism, which is, and has always been, personal freedom and state's rights, was the best course of action.

Now the Democrats face the same issue. Don't be surprised if you see the Congress and the President start to really make a full court press on the Global Warming issue, or an attempt to strengthen Roe v. Wade. Don't be alarmed if you hear the term, "affirmative action" again, and above all, keep your cool if your taxes seem a bit higher to fund entitlement programs. The kicker though, is that although these issues may seem a bit fresher because of the new administration, they have all been around and discussed ad nauseum for years. The Democrats will be doing alot of re-iterating in the next few years. This is partly due to the fact, that if "new" issues are in the forefront of the American media, which is fueled by the left, Americans will not forget, but have something else to talk about other than the fact that they no longer have retirement funds. They've lost their big gun with this historical election. Now, we just have to see what they return to and how hard they drive towards whatever new goal is popular amongst college professors and the mass-media.

I am going to end this post with this statement; I am an American and I support my president. I am proud of my country for coming so far and I wish Mr. Obama success, for no other fact than, I have to live here... and I would like it to be a pleasant experience. I don't agree with the man, and in all honesty I do not trust him fully. He's an Illinois politician, and the last Illinois politician that was trustworthy was Abe... and I'm not even a big fan of him. If you are a Republican reading this, take solace in the fact that the Democrats sustained a major blow to their backbone and if history is any judge, it will not be an easy road to recovery. As for now, wishing the president to do poorly would be like punching yourself in the groin. Why? You're only going to end up hurting yourself. It is nice to say, "I told you so" and I have no doubt we'll get to say it more than a few times before this administration is phased out, but it's nicer to say, "wow America is pretty damn ok." In the mean time, look into Bobby Jindal. Above all Conservatives, cheer up, the next election is going to be here before you know it.

Writer's Note: I do not use the term African-American, just as I do not refer to myself as an Irish-American. American is just fine with me, and should be with you.

Recipe..... for Greatness! : people who DON'T deserve props, but get them anyway

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 23:24:00 +0000

There are alot of people out there who are treated like Gods when they should actually be treated like ... well like everyone else. So I guess I can start this list now... before I do, let me state that these are obviously just my humble opinions. Also, I would like to ad that I am smarter than you, so these opinions should be yours as well. If they are not, work on it.

Let me get this one out of the way....

1. Barack Obama

You really have to worry about the population of a country that decides God doesn't exist, so instead they'll worship a politician. I realize that this is history in the making. I realize that Obots from here to L.A. have been excited as hell since November. I also realized a couple weeks ago that during the Israeli incursion into Gaza, more people were talking about what kind of dog Bammers was going to get for his daughters than a Middle Eastern war. (The Middle East effects us... in case you haven't noticed.) Love him or hate him... I don't care. Lets let the guy have some time in office before we decide he's the greatest American president since George Washington. People seem to be forgetting the fact that black, white, red, brown, Democrat, Republican, Christian, Muslim... all of that doesn't matter, what matters is that after all of that, under all of those adjectives; he's a politician. We all know how honest and caring politicians are. The morons in this country who have decided that this junior senator from Illinois (the most corrupt state in the union) is the Messiah have better come to grips with reality, and soon. One man is not going to change the world, or the course of this country. We will ultimately be deciding in which direction we are heading. So just try this out Obots... listen to what he says from now until he's out of office, listen to it and think... and then decide if you want to be behind whatever he is saying. Don't just pop up because Barack said 'jump'. I know it's a difficult concept to wrap your head's around, but just give it a shot. Oh and by the way, he only got 52.9% percent of the vote. That means almost HALF of the country did not vote for him. Get over yourselves.

2. Joe Torre

I am a Yankee fan. So how could I possibly say this??? Easy, he didn't win the 96 World Series, handing the Yank's their first title in 18 years. Buck Showalter and Gene Michael did. That was Showalter's team boys and girls. Showalter got the boot after the 95 season and we got big Joe. We won!!! Then we won in 98, 99, and 2000.... the talent on those teams was at such a high level that anyone could have managed those man-gods into and through the Series. I can't tell you how many times I screamed at the television, at the radio, and in the stands at Joe to get off of his big fat ass and show some spirit, get pissed off, or take a pitcher out who had been giving up dinger after dinger. Yanks win in '04 if he hadn't put Mo in the game, and just let Gordon keep doing his thing. That was the moment I realized that not only did I think Torre was overrated, but that I actually, hated the man. After we axed him last year he went to the Dodgers as you may or may not know and took his team farther than the Yanks... here's the kicker ; it was actually Manny Ramirez who pulled that team into the playoffs. Once again that pudgy fruit got to ride someone else's coat-tails into the post season. Unbelievable. He sucks.

3. Jon Stewart

Jon Stewart... well where do I begin? First off, I don't trust, nor do I respect anyone who tries to hide the fact that they are Jewish. If you're Jewish be proud. Jon Stuart Leibowitz, you are an asshole. There's nothing more pathetic than a celebrity who thinks their opinions hold water with the American public. Bill Maher falls into this category as well. Apparently, a failed comedy career is a pre-requisite in the world of liberal, pseudo journalistic entertainment. "Couldn't hack it on the stand-up circuit huh? Well that's alright, just start talking politics. Don't know anything about politics huh? Well that's alright, you're non-threatening enough. Enjoy fame!" Every comedian has to have a quick wit, and good timing. Just because you may posses those two very fine traits, it doesn't mean you're intelligent. There are alot of people in this country who apparently confuse a quip, or a punchline with cogent, serious political thought. This doesn't surprise me though. It is easier to not care and just laugh at something than to actually learn about it and form your own opinion. Jon Leibowitz, you are a putz.

4. Bruce Springsteen

Bruce Springsteen... let's call him BS to save time, and I think it's also quite fitting. Where do I begin? He's definitely the most overrated clown in the music industry. His guitar playing is sloppy and uninspired. His voice sounds like a guy singing with a dil-doh jammed up his ass, and the fact that he considers himself the working man's ambassador makes him the most unbelievable douchebag on the planet. He had a couple of hits... and since the mid nineties he's just gotten pudgier and lamer. His albums and singles flop before they drop and he's become a punchline. I remember a time when if you mentioned the words, 'worthless, pompous, self-righteous, liberal, activist, musician, jackass and butthole' in the same sentence, whoever you were talking to would immediately chime in with, "Bono!" but alas, not anymore.... Congratulations BS, you are now the crowned king of the assholes.

This list could go on and on and I will add more installments one day... but it's time consuming and I'm tired. So here is a short list of people that I have no use for..

Joni Mitchell, Rosie O'Donnell, Jerry Seinfeld, Paul Mcartney, Jim Carey, Stephen Colbert, 50 Cent, Snoop Dogg, Courtney Love, Kevin Smith, The bands, Poison, Chicago, The Eagles, Guns n' Roses ... just way too many out there to put down right now. Give me a week.

“Honestly Dude…” An Editor’s Rebuttal

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny F) — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 03:42:00 +0000

Some had been said of Johnnyboy’s recent post. I happen to know said “Jon” in the previous article and while some of that post maybe true, I know that man to be loyal, hard-working and at the very least honest. I know the man who wrote the post to occasionally be the exact opposite of those traits. This is not a tear on Johnnyboy, it’s just an observation. Like the reporter that will make the interviewee seem like more of an jerk than they really are, this is my take, stance and overall reply to Johnnyboy, as this is his life.

Chapter 1: The Saying
“Honestly Dude…” A saying said on an extremely consistent basis by John, sometimes followed up by an obvious, yet blatant lie. Honestly dude, I know you really needed a ride back from purgatory, but I had to chop down a tree with my dad for random reason #543. He really said the tree part too. Honestly dude, Rick Black’s girlfriend sucks, Ray Riggiel is a creep, Khil Macobs is too loud, Don Moncento is a meanie head, Mete Feer is this, Malex Hudor is that… Man this guy kind of dislikes a lot of people. Honestly dude, I can’t make it out, I have a laundry list of things to do including laundry. Why don’t you not waste my phone minutes and say, “To be honest sir, I really don’t want to hang out where you are going.” Period. Honestly dude, some honesty would honestly be refreshing, dude. I totally vouch for the kid, though.

Chapter 2: “At Your Convenience Except Not At All”
John is the opposite of a convenience store. Come to his doorstep and maybe he will oblige you. “Hey man, what are you doing tonight?” he might ask. Well if you are not going to visit John in the closest allotted distance to his house, your conversation ends right there. Everywhere is too expensive for him and if we could hark back to gas prices from the 70s, it would still be too expensive for John. Oh, plus he’d have to leave his house just to get said gas. In fact a friend of his just had to move down literally within walking distance to see John on a regular basis, but we’ll get to that closet case in a little while. I totally vouch for the kid, though.

Chapter 3: When Life Gets A Bit Rough, Wear The Same Clothes
Some guys try to mix it up with a tie or a blazer like the asshole in the previous article, while others don’t have that option because they don’t have the money to do so. John-knee –boy on the other hand, just doesn’t feel like it. Don’t go with what works, go with what you know. “Not everyone at the same empty bar I go to saw me in my turquoise half-zip fleece with a cigarette burn from Kohl’s, let’s make sure they do.” Well, he’s not materialistic; I’ll give him that. I totally vouch for the kid, though.

Chapter 4:The Laziest Rev. Jim Jones or Bow To Me Faithfully
So why does John rarely leave his own backyard or as my old man says “become a gangster in your own neighborhood?” The answer is simple; he has his own 1 member fan club. For the sake of sakes and to produce at least some semblance of anonymity we’ll call this Cable Guy of a fan/friend Rayson Reiggiel. So no matter who never wants to hang out ever again, John has Raye to answer to his every whim. At the very least John never has to worry about losing a friend or fear that everyone will revolt against him because Rey will always be there. A long time ago, John was the life of the party, city, and southern Connecticut (the area not school). Hanging out with John meant that you stood a chance of getting laid (with a woman), you will meet random cool people, go to a party you never knew you wanted to attend and get drunk. It was like watching the original Caddyshack for the very first time, it was great. The past 3-5 years have played up like Caddyshack II. Some glimmer of promise and hope, but let’s face it, now you’ll get drunk, but only on his terms. The show’s over. Don’t tell that to Rhayson though. He still feels that ol Johnnyboy still gots it and it’s a matter of time before those happy days will be here again, henceforth will do whatever John asks of him. At least Barney Rubbel, Gillian, Sideshow Mel, Sideshow Bob and Chachi had some backbone and their own opinions/storylines. I guess having your own personal lackey by your side means at least one person thinks you are always right all of the time. Remember the scene in Boogie Nights where Philip Seymor Hoffman (or Philmore Hoffman for you drinkers out there) tries to kiss Mark Walberg. Our entire group of friends have been waiting for Raymore Hoffman to attack John Diggler any day now for years. (The similarities between John and Dirk end there too). I totally vouch for the kid, though.

Chapter 5: Fountain of Youth
John has managed to find the fountain of youth, but apparently you are a young college man if you go to school for your bachelor’s degree for over eight years. You don’t stop getting older because you continue to go to school. John I would encourage to respond to this, but you probably can’t because you are writing a term paper…but likely blowing it off (which is why you are still in school to begin with). I only graduated two years earlier (putting my lazy ass at nearly six years), so I can’t fault John at all. Besides, it’s not like he’s doing nothing with his life, simply waiting for some inheritance he doesn’t deserve. I totally vouch for the kid, though.

Aside from these factors, along with alcohol abuse, cigarette abuse, dirty cars and talking over people he’s a great friend. Strong family values, funny stories, natural charm when he wants to use it, the gift of the gab, intelligence and another random character trait that escapes me right now describe John very well. He is my friend and I can’t really conclude this positively, so I’ll end it on that, besides I just came from Black Rock myself and don’t feel like it. Happy New Year. Adios.

"Everyone plays the rules", Things I've Learned from My Friend Jon

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 17:36:00 +0000

Well, What can you say about a guy who greets every serious question you ask him with the same face you see above? Actually, there is a great deal to be said. Let me start off by saying that this lovable bastard is a good friend of mine, in my top three without a doubt. That being said, and out of the way, he is a bit of an asshole. It's hard to say you grew up with someone without having a friendship tenure of at least ten years, and Jon and I are almost there, so for the purposes of this post, I will say that we grew up together. In many respects we did. High School, College and everything that goes along with it an along side of it. I think the true value of a friend is being able to observe the way you deal with situations, and then realize that what you are doing, or thinking, or saying is exactly what your friend would do. Without further ado.... some things I've learned from Jon.

1. Saying you're sorry should have an end result of the other person feeling bad.

It's easy to tell where this list is going to go from that first lesson. This is one lesson that I kind of already knew, but it was perfect in the personage of Jon. I have never gotten an apology from this kid that didn't end with, "but you know John, you did some pretty rotten ... etc..", or begin with, "I wouldn't have said what I said if you hadn't done _____ to me..". Saying sorry is a pain in the ass and a waste of time. Let's face it, if you do or say something that pisses someone off or hurts someone, even though you're "sorry", you said or did it anyway; which means at the time you wanted to say or do whatever you said or did. If you want to apologize, say that you're sorry for hurting the persons' feelings... leave it at that. Or you can take a page out of Jon's book... and make the person feel worse for asking for an apology in the first place. You can't be wrong if the other person is never right.

2. Every once in a while, wear a tie.

This is a very thought out approach to camouflage a life made up of complete misery, drunkenness, womanizing and theft with a little bit of class. I used to have a saying back in college, "never let 'em see the wizard." I used to use this expression when I was referring to girls and not letting them see the "real" you. I used to get alot of flack for that saying, and alot from Jon. He thought it was lame. Now, 5 years later, he's not saying it... he's fucking living it. There is no reason for this man to ever wear a tie, unless he is at a funeral, wedding or his inevitable arraignment, trial and sentencing. That being said... it looks good. Every man looks good in a tie, and theres no denying it. A tie says to all those who see the person, "this guy either has money, a decent job, or has a large inheritance." The cold truth is much different, but that's not the point. While you have that tie on, you're Don Draper, in real life... you're more like Don Carney; kinda funny, used to have an edge but now you're just fucking dead. That last analogy was not meant just for Jon, but for you, dear reader; you fucking hump.

3. If you're not successful, pretend.

I don't know much about what Jon does for a living. I have no idea what a day in the life of Jon at work is like but from what I can tell, it basically consists of making copies, discussing lunch options with "clients" and prank calling me. For the past few years, Jon has been "making moves", to quote the man himself. Not only has he been making moves, he's been smugly holding them over his friends' heads. A. if that is the case... the moves are baby steps as he is still in the same boat as the rest of us to one degree or another. B. He has made no moves whatsoever and leaves home in the morning and sits in libraries, coffee shops and museums until he can come home after a "long day's work." Either case, the man makes an interesting point. Who wants to be around a loser? If I told it like it was to everyone, I would only have a friend or two left. No one wants to hear the true story. Gussy that tale of woe and heartbreak up, and if possible, throw a nice job into the mix. I have no doubt that Jon will be a success one day, he is talented enough and intelligent enough; and if he doesn't... well, I want to say "good", but I can't do that. If he doesn't I'm sure one of us will bail him out. Won't be me though, I'll probably still be in school.

4. Always look on the bright side.

I did NOT learn this from Jon. Jon will always look at things in the worst way so that if they turn out good, it will be a pleasant surprise for him. He believes this to the point where at one time I was worried that he was contemplating suicide when he was actually excited about a date. Listen people, always look on the bright side of life. I believe that firmly because if we don't we will all become like Jon. The world has one J.A.F... and it doesn't need, nor could it survive another. If you don't know Jon, this won't make much sense, but to all of those who are reading this who do know the man... lemme guess, seconds ago when you read, "The world has one J.A.F... and it doesn't need, nor could it survive another..", you smiled to yourself, chuckled to yourself, cringed or whatever, but you fucking agreed.

5. Have a role model.

I'll finish this list off with this most important of points. I know Jon has some role models, in fact I'm pretty sure I could name a couple. But I think they suck, and this is my post, so I give you... Old Gil Gunderson. Jon and Gil are not alike really, but in a way parallels can be drawn. Look at that picture of up there and lets see, they both wear a tie, they both have desk jobs, they both keep bottles of antacids around, and they both have a defeatist attitude and low expectations all the time. Come to think of it, they're not only alike... they're the exact same person. Jon Gunderson. It sounds good. Having a role model will lead you in the right direction, and if it doesn't... in the words of the man I am honoring, "I could really care less, I have my own shit to deal with."

To be clear, this post is in no way an attack on Jon. It's an attack on you, and more importantly me. I have to be friends with this guy.

Happy New Year From Hatredy

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny F) — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 04:22:00 +0000

While I am sick as I type this, it is apparently clear that cold and flu season is upon us. As 2008 concludes, the one constant is shitty weather and runny noses. We need a formula that speaks to US for a cure. We need a syrup that is as gritty and old school as the weathered streets of Bridgeport, Connecticut. I give you a fresh face with a taste of yore, I give you Farmer Stinky John's Melikough Syrup...

That's right Hatredy's own Johnnyboy's first endorsed product! Honestly dude, I can't wait to get me some pessimistic goodness from Garden Terrace (a subsidiary of the Gillman Group).

Side effects may include: upset stomach, dirty jackets, musty living, black lung, erections lasting less than 32 seconds, whiskey dick, more bills, an angry wang and extreme bouts of laziness well after symptoms subside.

If you can't beat them, arrange to have them beaten.

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny F) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 23:59:00 +0000

“What’s your favorite show?” “I don’t have time to watch television.” First of all, you are a fucking liar. Everybody squeezes in their share of hours on the tube, at the very least weekly. If you are too busy eating tofu and trying not to break your own neck (as you try to suck your own dick), then surely your wi-fi connection at Starfucks on your Macbook Air, you watch Hulu or any number of online webcasts. My point is everyone watches television. Everyone also has to deal with commercials that come with this form of entertainment. We always will, you have to pay the bills somehow. Back in the day, be it cars, beer, food, toys and household products that dominated these 4 minute breaks. Now, even during a damn NFL game, I see commercials for pills and other medications. Whether it is acid reflux (motherfucking check on that) or trying to pop a boner (check in 10-30 years or when I’m way too drunk), these commercials are rampant. Then I see these anti-depressant commercials, ah I don’t need pills to make me happy (Although other staff here would beg to differ). That’s what booze are for. But those commercials make a fair point. However, I am more of a natural high type of guy. I hate working out, but I like the feeling I get when I lose a couple of pounds and avoid growing a nice rack of man-boobs for another few years. I like the smell of fresh baked cookies or a mid-day nap. But then again there are some things I like that I can’t necessarily talk about at lunch with my co-workers, so here it is a list of things that make me happy. A long few years ago, a big Yale offensive lineman in a drunken rage told my father that I am an asshole. He then stared me down, with a frozen pizza box in hand and uttered these words, “Jon, you are a miserable bastard and are going to die alone.” He then threw the pizza box at my beloved Lazy Boy chair. I then thought to myself, “Well, I can barely share a queen size bed with a lady, much less a casket.” While that man still holds a lifelong grudge against me, I am really not that bad of a guy. I’m not that miserable, but what is being happy? I’ll tell you what happy is…

Getting a blowjob without having to return the favor. Don’t get me wrong if the maincourse is just of the oral consent, I don’t mind going down on a fresh, nubile vagina. In fact, I’ve repeatedly been told that I am a champ at it (it can be a hairy situation at times though). Sometimes after a long day it just hurts my neck and I don’t feel like it. If the girl doesn’t care (or I don’t care about her) I’ll take a benevolent blowjob any day of the week. I know what you’re thinking: penetrating is great (and it is!), but there are days (specifically lazy Sundays) where I’ll just as well take that blowjob and get off just as much. You know what got me off the most? The fact that I contributed absolutely nothing to the cause…oh yeah and her mouth. Next...

Taking a big, old fashioned dump. Oh I just did one, which is making me write this post. So as I’ve alluded to earlier, I have an acid reflux issue and yes it sucks. The short end of the story is that I oft take shits. Some messy, some refreshingly quick, some after drinking beer (the uglies). Every now and again there will be the perfect dump. It’s hard to explain, but I’ll try. There was a time several years ago when I took Imodium…in massive amounts. I was on vacation and with my stomach problems mounting, I wasn’t going to let anything stop me from letting loose, pun intended. I guess I got Imodium confused with Tums and Gas-X and didn’t take a shit for nearly five days. Five days of burgers, fries, milkshakes, cookies, chips, beer, hard alcohol, soft alcohol, chicken wings, pizza and late night bags of greasy chips and other unhealthy garbage all sitting in my stomach. After three days, I embarrassingly told a buddy about this problem. Was it a change in scenery? Were my stomach and asshole on non-speaking terms? He bluntly explained just what Imodium does so now I play the waiting game and have to stew in my poopy juices. Well the waiting game concluded once I returned from my vacation…at work. Relieved, I went…and went. It might have been a Guinness Book record. I even took a picture of it to share with my co-workers. Now I know what it feels like to give birth to a little shit of a child.

Eating enough raw cookie dough to give me a stomachache. Actually that one is pretty straight forward, it’s just delicious.

Imitating a friend’s voice…until he or she wants to physically harm you. So I have a small talent, or so I’ve been told that I can imitate some people pretty well. We all know it is an extrapolation of how the imitatee acts, but it’s not always seen that way. I’ve been told imitation is the best form of flattery, so I view my imitations as just that. If I really hated someone’s guts, why would I have put the time in to do an imitation in the first place? When people are drunk or angry…or both, they often tell you how they feel about you without pulling any punches. Some is said at merely the heat of the moment and should not be taken seriously at sober, less raging, happier times. The same goes for an imitation. Once you discover funny words to say as an imitator, you test it out in the car, then in front of a friend, then a group of friends, then a bar, all while doing this behind the imitatee’s back (especially if it is a dead-on imitation). Eventually, this becomes a cycle of life for you and your group of friends. You get ready to go out, get in your car, buy the beer, get drunk and do the imitation. After a period of time, you start to do the voice (usually in a very sly manner) in front of the person you are imitating. Sometimes, the person will recognize this and say, “Hey is that me!?! Haha, that’s pretty good.” In a perfect world, said person would even embrace it to the point where, it grows old and runs its course. Most of my friends, however, are the ones that will tell me my faults and quirks. Tell me how I don’t know when enough is enough, tell me how drunk I got last night and tell me about the regrettable women I’ve pleasured or displeasured. Out of all of my friends, I will be the first to admit that my tongue is way to sharp for its own good. I can break a person down to a point where their only riposte is physical harm towards me. Good comeback. Where was I going with this?

Retro video games, hanging out with my nieces and nephew (because they are more interesting to talk to rather than the miserable adults in the family), sex in which the woman lets me really have my way, a great meal of Italian or Spanish food, the first date with a chick I actually might like, money, gigantic HDTVs, refreshingly pleasing customer service, watching a great flick, stupid viral clips, the perfect haircut, knowing I have the drive to be more successful than most of my friends, discovering a great band’s catalog for the first time, being pleasantly surprised (by an unsuspecting movie/CD), a great sports game, the feeling you get from drinking right in between the buzz and being too drunk, buying gadgets/movies I don’t really need and laughing so hard it hurts are other less detailed things that place me in high spirits. Overall, I am not very difficult to please. A big flaw, at least in the eyes of people that think they know me, is that I love to laugh. Sometimes at what, is questionable. The bottom line, is while you are breaking down my character in your head while angrily crying yourself to sleep listening to Papa Roach’s Last Resort, I am having a rough time sleeping as well, but only because my 50 inch television gives off a ton of light. The truth of it all is this: I’m better than you and during this ecomonic crisis some extra money can in fact buy happiness. Just remember kids, a laugh at someone else's expense, exhilarating dumps and blowjobs (if you apply yourself) are free and great. So be a jerk, take a shit and whip it out life is too short (just not in my direction).

Embracing Economic Collapse

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 18:37:00 +0000

I think its fucking great. I just read that the bail-out plan posed by Congress has been shot down, and I for one almost blew my load. I bet by tonight or by the end of the week, they'll have passed something which will bail out Wall Street, and save the country blah blah blah... but as for right now, I can be happy. Buying up the bad debt in this country is paramount to becoming socialists. Couldn't afford a 2 million dollar mcmansion but took out a mortgage you wouldn't be able to pay off anyway? Then FUCK YOU, welcome to the trailer park.

The people who are going to be hurt by this, or more importantly the only people that I give a shit about in this instance, are the middle class Americans who are going to see their 401 K's etc. raped by this. That reason alone should be enough to send those Wall Street cocksuckers to jail for life. Greed corrupts, and we all know that, but now we can actually see it. I am grinning from ear to ear just contemplating the clenched fisted anxiety and panic that the "upper crust" are feeling right now.

I say fuck em. Get together in groups, if you're retirement plans, or your hard earned money has been negatively effected by this, and go storm the Country Clubs. Burn them down, sink the boats at the yacht clubs, slash tires on Mercedes, throw dog shit at mansions, and when you see a guy walking down the street wearing shoes that are worth more than you make in two weeks, beat the ever living shit out of him and shove his shoes up his ass. Man it feels good to watch them cringe.

(I am in no way advocating violence, destruction of property or vandalism... If you feel the need to engage in such activities, enjoy prison.)

The Olympics... Give Me a %@%$!#& Break

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 18:36:00 +0000

Alright the Olympics are over, and fat-assed house wives from the mid-west and the elderly are crying in their porridge. I for one, am happy. The Olympics are the biggest, most hyped-up bullshit collection of sporting events around today. Does anyone really care? Maybe Jamaicans and Estonians but as Americans, we have entertaining sports to watch. Most Americans who watched the Olympics watched the U.S. basketball team and Michael Phelps... do you know who those Americans were?? Answer : American basketball fans and people who enjoy watching a good freakshow. Michael Phelps is a double jointed, stubby legged, calorie slurping troglodyte who resembles Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel from the Simpsons. Retard strength at its finest. Who knows, maybe the clown was born in Atlantis.
I would respect, and maybe even watch the Olympics if they were played every four years, in Greece, and only if the sports were classic and period. Discus, Javelin, Running, Wrestling..... the real shit. I doubt the original Olympians had synchronized diving, BMX'ing or ping pong in their plans. Shit, I bet if you had proposed one of those "hobbies" to the original Olympians, they would probably have given you a quizzical look and then skewered your beer gut on a spear. (Due to the fact that they wouldn't have any idea what a BMX was, and you probably wouldn't be speaking ancient Greek.) Alas, 'ti's not to be. We're stuck with a bunch of bullshit sports that no one gives a shit about.
Running. Theres a fucking joke. Every race some lanky Jamaican or Nigerian wins. I don't even know why white guys try. Lets face it folks, they're running either in a straight line, or a big loop. Wow, what athletes. How 'bout next time around, the crowd can throw things at the runners, or even try to tackle them. Snipers should be dispatched all around the arena and every once in a while a runaway car should make an appearance on the track. Lets see you outrun a .556 Usain. I say fill the pools with salt water and aggressive sharks. If you can swim fast, great... now lets see if you can outrun Jaws, Michael.. my bet is you can't.
That IOC (International Olympic Committee) is a waste of time. What a great beacon of sports and sportsmanship. Allow blatant cheating when it comes to an athlete from the host country, and then on top of that, allow the whole damn thing to take place in a communist country that has been systematically destroying the spirit of not only it's own people, but the people of an oppressed country called... oh... Tibet for years. Justice and sport for all! If Michael Phelps had any class, or any sort of real American Patriotism, he would take his medals and return them to the committee. Or ask that the gold be melted down and the money sent to a family in Tibet. All the American athletes should. Would they accept medals from Iran, or Syria? Same thing people. Just goes to show that the Olympic spirit of thousands of years ago is dead and gone.
At least the shitshow known as the Olympics is over, and I don't have to hear about it for another four years. Just knowing that it's coming back though is enough to make my blood boil. If that wasn't bad enough... the Winter Olympics are coming up... I think. Great. The ancient Greek tradition of ski-jumping and bobsledding will live on for years to come. I think I'm going to be sick.

No Hatred Tonight... G'bye To a Great Yankee

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 05:44:00 +0000

Two R.I.P posts on a blog created for laughs seems a bit much. Sorry kids, Jondrama, Phil and I are Yankee fans. Adios Bobby Murcer.

He never won a ring with the Yanks. He played his ass off though. Batted a career .277 with 252 homers and 1,043 RBI's. Not too shabby. As a Yankee fan who began his journey through the wonder of the pinstripes during the 80's, I missed his time on the squad. He played his last year the year I was born though, so I feel that I was around for the Murcer years. I knew of Murcer through his wonderful commentary. His back woods, small town, hicky slang mingled with and burned in the bright lights of the big apple. The kid from Oklahoma was more a New Yorker than half of the guys on the grand squad from the Bronx these days. He bled baseball, and more importantly, he bled pinstripes. Love the Yanks or hate them, no one can say they didn't have a soft spot in their hearts for Bobby.

Allen is a story we hear from our grandparents, Rizzuto is a fond memory, Sterling is a great alternative to watching the Bombers on the tube, and Bobby is a player/announcer Yankee legend. From his, "doggoneit's" to his, "that's a fine play right there" and finally to his, "ahhh, well... that's baseball" s <----if you know that one, you're a Yankee fan.. we are going to miss Bobby and his re-assuring voice. On the field, the scrappy outfielder never said die, and against cancer, he fought it tooth and nail, but even legends are human beings. Bobby, we hope you're in a better place, playing ball on perfect green fields, catching balls on great hops in short center, giving you great chances at nailing the opposition's speedster at the plate. We're going to miss your voice, your presence and your love for the game, and for the pinstripes. Rest in peace Bobby... have a round with Gherig, Ruth, DiMaggio and Mantle on us down here. I for one can't wait to meet you one day.

R. I. P Bobby Murcer

NYY 1965-1974 1979-1983

A Few Reasons Why I'm Better Than You

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 01:53:00 +0000

I've decided to put down a few of the reasons why I am superior to you, dear reader. I could go on for volumes on the topic but I simply do not have the time. So here are a few...

1. My Voice
I have the kind of voice that makes James Earl Jones sound like a cub scout. No matter how many cigarettes you smoke, how many times you scream until your throat is sore and red... you will never have the same velvety, masculine tone that I can pull out at a moments notice. Rupert Murdock actually asked me never to go into radio, as this move would destroy his Fox Network and T.V. in general. One time a girl sucked my dick in front of her parents just because of the way I said, "I really dig your shoes."

2. Intelligence
Don't even try it mongo, I am smarter than you. Sometimes I find it hard to date because of the inevitable feeling, of being unworthy to wipe my ass, women feel when they, "pick my brain." I can make someone feel stupid in seconds by ripping apart their deepest and most secure dreams and aspirations. Plainly put, I make people want to kill themselves because they know they'll never reach my level mentally. You'd think, that this kind of belief would inspire someone to increase their level of intelligence, but you're wrong. Because you're stupid.

3. Sexual Prowess
Oh yeah, that's right. Every move you've ever put on a partner, fails in comparison to the lamest moves in my vast repertoire. While you're struggling to slip your greasy finger into some co-ed's pants, I am gently setting the mood by lighting incenses from the fairest regions of the mysterious Orient.. while you're trying to unbutton your button fly pants ( yeah you're probably one of those losers who wears button fly ) I am hand feeding my conquest fresh cherrystone's on the half shell with drawn truffle butter. While you're feebly humping away at Krystal, or Sharice, or whatever your pathetic target's name is, I am holding back my orgasm with ancient tantric pelvic restriction methods, whilst taking my conquest to new levels of ecstasy while my horse-cock does a calisthenics routine three feet deep in her snatch. Have you ever heard a woman you've JUST met say, "by everything holy in this universe I pray that you got me pregnant."? No you haven't, and you never will. I hear it two, three times a week.

4. I Never Lose Fights
Oh sure, I bet you've won a fight or two.... but have you won them all? Nope. Well guess what, I have. I carry a large caliber hand-gun. No one is going to beat me in a bar fight, road rage incident or anything which may lead to fisticuffs. You know what I call fisticuffs? 'Pulloutmygunicuffs'. I would fight Kimbo, Tyson, or any of those UFC fuckers, and I'd win ; because the night before the fight I would sneak into their homes and shoot them. Cowardly? Sure, but I'm alive, you're dead, I win.

There will be more soon my friends, but right now I need to rest my superior brain and jerk off with my bigger more powerful hands and wang.

He's Screaming Up at Us

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 04:34:00 +0000

I really can't do George Carlin any more justice than Jon, or any other of the dozens of brilliant writers who have expressed their love and admiration for the man since he passed. So instead I'm just going to tell you what the man meant to me.

George Carlin is the reason this blog is here.

Until about 1999, I was quite unknowing in the ways of comedy. I knew funny when I saw it, but couldn't separate or replicate it. Like everyone "I loved to laugh" (Thank You Patton Oswalt), but when it came to my own understanding of comedy, I was very awkward. I can distinctly recall the first time I made a group of people laugh intentionally. It was the spring of 1999, I was a freshman in high school, and during a music class, the teacher said "Pachelbel" and I immediately quipped "Did you say Taco Bell?". The whole room laughed. It felt amazing.

Christmas of that year, my parents bought a CD for my brother and I called "You Are All Diseased". "What's this?" we asked. "Stand-up Comedy" said my parents. I was unaware that, like music, which makes you feel emotions, there were CDs that made you laugh. More than CDs. People. People who, without clown make-up, could just say funny things that would make me die laughing.

A short list of all the people George Carlin introduced me to:
Patton Oswalt, Zach Galafianakis, Brian Posehn, Maria Bamford, David Cross, Eugene Mirman, H. Jon Benjamin, Mitch Hedberg (R.I.P.) Morgan Murphy, Demetri Martin, Doug Benson, Arj Barker, Tony Camin, Richard Pryor, Bill Hicks (R.I.P.), Louis C.K., Daniel Tosh, Jay Mohr, Jim Bruer, Jim Gaffigan, Kevin James, Mike Birbiglia, Todd Barry, Paul F. Tompkins, Dave Attell, Michael Ian Black, Michael Showalter, David Wainever he feels like it, Nick Swardson, Chris Hardwick, Nick Thune, Todd Glass, Neil Hamburger, Ian Edwards, Scott Aukerman, Mindy Kaling, Dan Mintz, Paul F. Tompkins, Early Adam Sandler, Sarah Silverman, Jonathan Katz, Ron White, and Dana Carvey.

If I had never gotten that first George Carlin CD, I would have no idea what funny is.

Like many other events in my life (or certain events in anyones life), I can distinctly recall where I was, what I was doing, when I heard George was dead. I was sleeping. I had been ignoring my phone, except to see who called or texted. John texted me at 12:01pm. "Farewell, Mr. Carlin". I immediately jumped out of bed and went to Yahoo!News. It was horribly, awfully true.

Which brings me to my conclusion. Phrases like "I laughed, I cried" are exactly the kind of crap George hated. I hate them too. But I'll say this: George Carlin made me laugh, and cry. I laughed everytime I heard his voice, and cried my eyes out when I knew I'd never hear it say something new, and funny, and intelligent, and profound.

He's Screaming Up at Us.

I'll always be listening.

"....But the great thing about George is, he left us hours upon hours of video to remember him with."- Jon Stewart

RIP GEORGE CARLIN 5.12.1937-6.22.2008

The Funniest Grandpa I Ever Knew

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny F) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 02:23:00 +0000

I never really knew my grandfathers. On my Italian side, my grandfather was your traditional hard worker that made sure he put food on the table for his family. He seemed like a great man, but died ten years before I was born. On my Puerto Rican side, my grandfather lived on the island, while I lived here in the states. He seemed like a fun-loving, great guy, but passed away when I was five, so I never really got to know him and my memories of him are pleasant, but limited. Where am I going with this? When I have kids and they have kids, I guess my days are numbered.

So where does an impressionable young boy go to find a grandfather-like figure? Many, many years ago our family received (by accident and illegally) HBO. Sure there were your new movies as always on Saturday nights, but on rare occasions (even rarer today) they would have stand-up comedian preform. As a young kid, I saw this mean looking man with a white beard and ponytail, dressed in all black standing alone on stage making people laugh by saying bad words. He cursed, made funny faces, acted animated, and made my brother and father laugh. Most importantly, there was some push back on my mom’s part with me watching it, so I knew I absolutely had to. I was memorized. I didn’t even know what I was laughing at most of the time, but it was never forced laughter. It was George Carlin. He could tell you about the state of the economy, question religion, present some observational ramblings, then crack a few fart jokes. That what I loved about Carlin. He was never above what makes us all laugh (even if we think we are too old for it) with the most intelligent things a mortal man would never think of or the simplest things in life that we take for granted. He challenged and pushed the boundaries of free speech, makes no apologies and made it look easy. Comedians like Carlin don’t grow old and die, they become legends and pioneers. If my family, friends, colleagues, associates, romantic interests, and co-workers have wondered why I complain, make off-the cuff remarks, say things that others are afraid to say, make inappropriate jokes, and question “the system”? It’s because I probably listened to too many George Carlin records in my time and have tried to emulate his style, sometimes knowingly, often unknowingly. I write on this blog and feel like an asshole-weirdo with some of the absurd things I say. Why do I say these things? Why do I think these things? Am I insane? Am I adopted? Am I drunk? (yes, no, and most of the time). About a month ago, I listened to some of my old Carlin CDs and realized one thing: he did it first. I no longer felt alone. He set the standard and all I can do is follow in footsteps, as only this patriarch and grandfather of comedy can do.

On the subject of George Carlin, I wrote a blog a couple of months ago after listening to a few his CDs. I got inspired and wrote this blog, which is angry, weird, and absurd. In the vein of (but not as good as, hey I’m not a professional, fuck off) George Carlin, here is…

Thinking Wilde

"Quotation is a serviceable substitute for wit." Oscar Wilde

Oscar Wilde said that. Nothing more wilde has ever been so true (although that dude was a freak). Truth be told, be it written, printed, AIM away message (more on that here), or Facebook, a lot of people quote. Why? Some people want to be holistic (The Bible), some people want to be clever (insert comedian here), and some people want to get punched in the face (Paris Hilton or random whore here). Frankly, we have all quoted someone’s brain droppings at some point because we ourselves have nothing overly creative to say. Even in high school, we sum up the accumulation of 4 years (or more) by inserting a quote in our senior yearbook. I never did that, though. While my peers were quoting Steely Dan, The Bible, and Positive K (I got a man), I had zilch under my name. In hindsight, I deeply regret it. In further hindsight, I don’t at all, but in the furthest hindsight, I kind of do again. My biggest initial obstacle in failing to choose a person to quote was making sure another classmate (especially one I loathed) hadn’t already chosen the quote I likely had my probably bloodshot (I don’t remember) eyes on. I always wanted to quote someone that has never been quoted before. My choice today would have to be George Carlin. Although he is a quotable fellow that had been cited a ton of times, I recall George on stage one night pondering a sentence that had never been uttered by another human being…ever. It had to be first-rate and completely outlandish. He then came up with, “As soon as I pull this hot poker out of my ass, I’m going to chop my dick off!!” Carlin was the first ever to string those bizarre words together (I hope at least). Has that ever been quoted, in a yearbook no less? I think not.

As seen here at the 1:16 mark:

Ok, so that one is a bit extreme. I have actually seen the quote "Make love, not war" in a yearbook. While I thought that was cliche, George Carlin actually wished he was the man that created it. He didn't, so he offered up this one: "Make fuck, not kill." We have a winner, teach. It’s great to be the first. I can’t wait for that 10 year reunion coming up. So with the way technology changes, the way we can “quote” changes as well. For those of us who are too money for reading, you can watch videos online instead. Dig this, daddio, you can embed (or “put in” for you normals) videos into your own website text or Blogger account (that’s us!). I like that word embed, it’s a classy way of saying rape. That would make the news less nauseating. While we have the sentence “Serial killer Prance Hartfeld raped this latest victim”, the word “embed” and some additional synonyms could change that. Entertainment in installments eradicator Slick Prance Hartfeld embedded his swinebeast in his least tardy chicky-poo that was askin’ for it. Okay, that’s appalling. Admittedly, I’ve raped YouTube videos onto this blog. Our own Blogger Phil even tried serial rape his way into becoming the unofficial poster-boy for HULU. What better way to be original than show a video someone else made (several years ago at that). I digress, I suppose I never really cared what my peers thought of my in high school. In fact, a Carlin quote I always used for my AIM profile (talk about hypocritical) was "People who say they don't care what people think are usually desperate to have people think they don't care what people think. " Anyway, back to my yearbook quote, I wonder what that quote would look like had I been on our crack yearbook staff…..

In any case, thanks, George. You will be greatly missed by this asshole. Let us know if God is anything like Joe Pesci like you wanted. Rest in Peace, you will not be forgotten.

Saying Goodbye To the King... R.I.P George Carlin

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 01:46:00 +0000

The world of bitching lost it's greatest ambassador today. Rest In Peace, George Carlin. From rants ranging from tongue-in-cheek to true on hate... we are going to miss his gruff voice, his ratty goatee, and his stance on well, everything. JonDrama is planning a tribute post in the man's honor and I am sure that it will not disappoint, but I felt it proper, that this blog should put up a post on the date of his passing. Thanks for the years of hilarity, the way he made us think about things we took as fact and the escape from social bullshit that he offered. I'd say, "he's with God now", but he'd probably call me a schmuck for it. Anyway... see you in the good land Irishman.

Hatredy Sports: A Single, A Double, and a Walk-off Mustache

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny F) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 01:46:00 +0000

Okay, so this blog is as worthless as Phil's HULU suckfest, but come on, look at that. It's Jason Giambi's moving tribute to Don Mattingly circa his "Hitman" era playing days. I for one love it. Clean-cut Yankees manager Joe Girardi has viewed all the scouting reports and believes the Yankees owe their recent success to the power of the mustache. Johnny Damon and others are following. As for Giambi, he's breaking slumps and the hearts of single 40-something women everywhere. No mortal man can be certain as to when the first whiskers sprouted on Giambi’s upper lip but since May 15th Giambi has a .388 batting average with 5 dingers and 11 RBIs. Oh, not to mention he has upped his batting average 77 points from .181 to a much more respectable .258. How cool are Burt Renyolds and Tom Selleck now? Now the Yanks have a bit of a winning streak, so come along for the mustache ride, drink a brew or 10 and enjoy the summer.

P.S. I realized the ladies may like a fella with a clean-cut look. Well sorry, ladies if you want a clean stache, it's going to look a lot like this....

So do you want to know why you can never have this guy, ladies? Because he is strong, sensitive, and has a boyfriend. And yes, he is the best Met of the past 15 years. Kind of sad really. My third blog on mustaches, but don't worry I don't play on Piazza's team.

A Declaration Of Independence

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 04:13:00 +0000

In CONGRESS, June 13, 2008

The unanimous Declaration of Independence from the Blog of Hatredy

When in the course of human events it becomes painfully clear that the founder of a blog has forsaken its' existence and left its' contributors to piss blindly into the wind it becomes self evident that it is altogether fitting and proper that the contributors should dissolve all allegiance to said blog and its' tyrannical creator. Phil R. Jacobs has become an abomination to the world of blogging. It has been thusly left to myself and my colleague Jonathan A. Dramathan to rear this bastard-child into a productive beacon of hope for all those who hate. In the beginning our creator posted regularly, and with much studious hilarity. In recent times, the posts have been few and when they do appear they bring much shame to the Blog of Hatredy. Hulu Phil? C'mon. We are told half-truths of busy days toiling for mere dollars and tails of a dog which has become a behemoth of hell which plagues our nights out with the Tyrant, Phil. We are told of female troubles. We are told of personal health issues. We are told of others whom just recently have returned to the fold with false-promises of powder-snow dreams. We have been replaced with false idols and have suffered through all slings and arrows without a word. Today June, 13 2008, Jonathan A. Dramathan and John N. Melonballs have decided to pledge to ourselves our sacred honor as writers of Hatredy and hereby as of this day dissolve all allegiance to the Blog and its' creator, which govern all matters of tact, prudence and language. From here out as contributors we shall post freely what we truly feel, yet were unable to properly convey, due to our newly destroyed ties to the original creator. As of this day, Hatredy will no longer exist an Shitshow Blog is created. In name we are to remain hatredy, but in spirit, Shitshow shall reign forever. We are to no longer be be-littled, we are to no longer be subject to talking about Phil's hair, nor shall we stand for the slander of our Sacred crew of 4B, by the names and petty anecdotes of outsiders. We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created somewhat-equal, but it is our sacred right, to rebel against tyrants in the name of free literary expression.

John N. Melonballs

Jonathan A. Dramathan

June 13 2008

This One Might Piss Some People Off

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 04:32:00 +0000

Here we go folks... another list. Tough titty, deal with it

Things Hitler Could Have Done To Make Himself Seem Less Evil

1. Get Rid of That Moustache
What the hell was he thinking? That thing just reeks of evil. Hell even psychos in old timey movies had Snidely Whiplash handle bar moustaches. Even though 'ol Snidely was trying the blond virgin to the train tracks, there was something about that 'stash that made you think, "eh I kinda like this guy." Sorry Adolph... the moustache was a bad idea.

2. Instead of Killing Millions of Jews, Kill Millions of Coldplay Fans.
So what if they didn't exist in the 1930's-1940's... They all deserve to get it. There's nothing more dis-heartening than flipping on the radio and hearing that whiny bullshit band clanging away. It almost makes me want to drive my car into a tree. Maybe he could have killed the forefathers of Coldplay fans... how would he have know you ask? Just round up all the guys out there who cry when they see a flower, or guys who wore socks that matched their shirts. Bastards all of them.

3. Stop Yelling All The Fucking Time
Did he have to yell all the time? I mean c'mon Aloise (yes if you didn't know the bastard's real name was Aloise Shicklegruber, Adolph Hitler doesn't sound too bad now does it?) just pipe down. What was it like taking that guys order in a restaurant? "And for you mien fuhrer?" "GIVE ME THE CHICKEN, THE CHICKEN, NO RICE, I HATE RICE, MAYBE SOME ICE WATER TO HAVE WITH IT, MY TUMMY HURTS!!! DO YOU HAVE ALKA SELTZER??" No wonder his ho offed herself.

4. Stop Trying to Kill My Grandfather
OK so maybe Hitler didn't personally try to kill my Grandfather, but his fucking army sure as hell made it a mission to do so. That shit pisses me off. My Grandfather waxed a shitload of Nazi's and that's pretty awesome. He probably would have gotten alot more if they hadn't been shooting at his tank constantly. Dirty Nazi schmucks... they had to make things complicated.

5. Shot Himself About Twenty Years Before 1945
What would people say about him then? "Oh yeah Hitler? yeah he was that short weirdo painter who wrote that book about how he was the man and that Jews and pretty much everyone else in the world were bad. He was a dick dude... but who cares, lets get some pizza."

Hitler was a mass-murdering cocksucker, but there are still backwards psychos out there who think he was A-OK. What a world. Wow I want pizza now.

Lazy Sunday Blogging

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny F) — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 13:27:00 +0000

Fuck effort. For the record, I do put some into this, but I'm hungover today. My head hurts. My stomach is growling (I don't know if it wants food or wants to reject it). I'm pretty sure I made an ass out of myself last night (as my late night phone log would dictate). Yet the world is at my fingertips. It's Sunday. I might sleep all day. I might buy an X Box 360. I might visit Grandma. I might buy Grandma an X Box 360 and take a nap. Who knows? There's a lot to do today, so I don't have time to type. Instead, I'll use this as a forum to post old Photochopped (I don't want to get sued by Adobe) images that have been sitting around for awhile.....

RuddBate
I think Jason Bateman and Paul Rudd are underrated comedic actors that could star in a really good movie, but together, it would be box office gold. When thinking of a title for said buddy flick, what would the title be? RuddBate. It made me laugh hysterically for five minutes given the fact that there is absolutely no plot. After creating this, I didn't find it as funny (I'm sure you dont either). Onward....

Congratulations to my buddy Tony. He's the first of my bros to start a family. Here's a picture of that happy family.....
Ok, maybe not. This bizarre photo was supposed to be part of a greater creation as a comedic foray into video, but you guessed it, I was too lazy. Maybe the video will appear on the site one day.

R.I.P. Hatredy's very own Phil. His dog ate him.

But who would commission such an act of trechary? Hmmm. Clearly someone that knows him but doesnt like him much. But I dont know any angry, evil millionaires, wait....

Mutual admiration, right there folks.

Speaking of anger, I've saved the best for last. Ladies who are pro-choice, I want to give you an option. I'm not about pro-choice, I'm about pro-choices. This is a new option....

Thanks to blogger for fucking up the picture, but I'm to lazy to do anything about it and could care less if you enjoyed this. Have a great day.

Kids Are Assholes

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny F) — Wed, 28 May 2008 22:50:00 +0000

As a full grown human adult, I realize one thing: I can be, at times and generally, an asshole. Some say its my most negative and some (especially my comrades here) think its so negative, it’s almost a positive trait. Whether it’s “borrowing” a DVD I don’t intend on ever giving back to an aquaintance, photochopping a friend in an unflattering light, avoiding or pretending I didn’t see someone in public from high school, work, or from my not that distant past (oh yeah, I saw you), I am an asshole. Hell, we are a society based on assholes. We’ve all purposefully ate the last slice without asking, parked where we weren’t supposed to, not picked up the phone for someone that doesn’t know what a loser they are, “called out sick,” threatened harsh acts of death towards fellow drivers, or just plain killed a guy. Some of our most successful public figures are assholes (Donald Trump, Gene Simmons, most U.S. Presidents, etc.). I could go on and on, but I am here to talk about a whole other society of assholes that oft times go well overlooked: children.

Children are assholes. Sure, when they are born they come out of one hole, but they act like the other in turn. Ever wonder why people say, “Don’t act like a baby.” Simply stated, you are acting like a first class, Grade-A, Glenn Guilia asshole. I’m not bashing kids, I love my nieces and nephew. I think they are awesome, but like any decently flawed human being, they do act accordingly. Crying to get your way, pandering for the newest toys, dominating the television, wearing your shoes on the wrong foot, watching the same DVD over AND OVER again, and knowingly taking what’s not yours, I even know some people my age that still act that way. I have to admire it in a way. If life was hockey, children would be goons. Yet, why aren’t children brought to justice and called out on these flaws? Well, some are grounded and some get a “time out” (mostly by pussy white parents that need to go back to “Caucasia” forever), but we forgive children because they are young, unknowledgeable, immature and don’t know any better, like your typical Mets fan. If you knew, sooner or later, that you would have to grow up, wouldn’t you really milk acting however you want? Bear in mind that there are many adults who act this way and, of course, the mentally challenged are excused. However, should you read this and still do any of these acts of childhoody, you may in fact be mentally challenged. If so, ask your folks what the deal is or if they are too busy drooling and laughing at a pink bouncy ball (or watching According To Jim on syndication), please see a doctor. With that said, I am majestically segwaying into another list. Why majestically? Because I myself am a royal asshole. Anyway, here’s a short list of things children do to make themselves Lil Denis Learies…

Pee wherever you want (while sober) – I miss this one, especially in the tub. Nothing like waking up, taking a shower to clean off the grime of hours elasped, and getting rid of some excess urine in the process (sorry, ladies). Taking a piss naked is great (I am man, hear me roar…and drip). Somewhere down the line, I knew that my parents standing on my old urine (soap can’t rid everything) was wrong and stopped (regardless of pipes leading to one place, Costanza). I think when I was an infant and fully potty-trained I remember knowingly pissing myself one last time, thinking, “Mom, will make the arrangements.” That, my friends, is the work of a true asshole. Great work, pissy pants.

Spill something and NOT pick it up – This was awesome. There is nothing funnier and scarier than a really little kid trying to pour a 2 liter or gallon container into a tiny cup or glass. Best and worst case scenario, the glass is missed, the beverage container is dropped, spilled, and the glass is shattered. It really sucks if you are the adult and have to clean it up and naturally you would be peterbed. This leads to anger at the child. If you are a smart child, you cry, the parent feels sorry, and said child gets the beverage and didn’t have to clean up anything. Nice play, bucktooth.

Eating “stuff” – Stuff isn’t limited to food, either. How do you think we know that grass, ear wax, boogers, and Legos tasted bad (alright this blog is turning into the Freddy Got Fingered script). “Excuse me waiter, I’ll have the dandelion, mashed french fries sprinkled with your finest boogers and for desert I’ll have some ear wax along with the Lego. You know, the ones small enough to get lodged in my throat, so I may possibly die, sir.” Excellent choice. Way to live on the edge, Bingo. Moving on…

Wear whatever you want (while being deemed a “normal”) - I once went out of the house to play in a cartoon-Magic Johnson sweatshirt, cheap neon sunglasses, red jean shorts, yellow Hulk Hogan wristbands, purple Donatello TMNT kneepads, cheap neon green and blue sneakers from Bob’s, a cape and a tophat (yes, I had one back then too). I was the Teenage Mutant Hogan Johnson Magician Turtle Retard (I don’t feel tardy). My brother concurred to say the least. Way to dress, Palooka.

Wear flip-flops everywhere and not be an asshole – As a kid I wore my fair share of cartoon-themed sandals. To me it’s a beach and kid thing. But from stoners with “Jesus” sandals to women wearing them out at night, flip-flops are everywhere. I am writing this at work as we speak (a professional office job) and I hear that unmistakable flip-flop sound…and it gives me a friggin tumor (actually, it’s not a tuma). Flippity-floppity, open-toed whores. It annoys me, you ain’t at the beach sweetpants and unless you’re a kid, don’t do it. Be a fuckin pro, dollface.

If you are a kid and are smart enough to read this, keep it up, your cuteness will die sooner than you think. A Long Island drunk once said, these are the times to remember, so do just that. P.S. – if you are an ugly kid: beware. The tables will drastically turn. As Americans, we feel sorry for ugly kids, but in adulthood, you’ll get what coming to you, you ugly stupid kid. Until next time, learn to love it, learn to live with it, diamonds are forever, but your youth ain’t, you little shits.

Why I Will Never Watch, "The Notebook"

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Fri, 09 May 2008 04:47:00 +0000

I like to consider myself something of a movie buff. I watch a ton of movies all ranging from silent films to current day supermegaboner box office hits. I give everything a chance. Movies are a legitimate artistic medium and I believe they all, to some degree of another, have merit. I will never watch the Fucking Notebook. Every girl from here to hell seems to automatically orgasm at the mere mention of it. The movie has taken on something of a mythic proportion. AIM away messages, (see my post on them) profile quotes, hell even ring tones are dedicated to whatever sappy line is currently making them teary eyed and gushy. Enough is enough.

When I see a quote from that movie in any form on the net, posted by anyone, guy or girl my fucking blood boils. Not a quote from the Bible, Koran, Torah, Declaration of Independence, Gettysburg Address, Constitution, hell even the Communist Manifesto.... no I am forced to read something from a movie which was created for the supreme reason of making money on the fragile hearts of young girls. If you didn't think we were going to hell before, well guess again. Some movies can be categorized by the majority as, masterpieces. Goodfellas, The Third Man, Gone With The Wind, Citizen Kane, Fight Club... the list goes on and on. Sit any girl down to watch any of these movies and more than likely mid-way through she'll get up and walk away. Show her a movie with some guy with a five o'clock shadow going through some sort of romance related hell and a scene where to people make out in the rain and she'll probably cry like a fucking pansy.

Ladies, you don't have to be the stereotypical ditz that loses her shit when the boy gets the girl in these kinds of movies. Anyone who has experienced love knows that for all the wonderful moments that it presents us, there's and equal number of moments that feel like you've been sodomized in half by a horse. Do you want men to treat you equally? Do you want women to treat you equally? Do you want to me looked at as intellectuals? If so, it may be a good idea not to fall to pieces at a pre-dertemined time, put into a movie purposely by a billion dollar industry that feeds on your emotions. If Hollywood only made movies for one whole year, along the lines of the movies nominated for best picture last year, i.e. No Country For Old Men, There Will Be Blood... you'd see Brad Pitt driving around L.A. in a fucking Scion. Doesn't work that way.

I agree that movies, essentially, are made to entertain... but when entertainment becomes a model for you to deal with real-life situations concerning love, or the human heart in general, it's time to stand up and look in the mirror. What do you see? I'll tell you honey... I see a bonifide dipshit. Wake up... and for God's sake put on some make up.

P.S. Ladies, go to Blockbuster this weekend, and just pick a random movie... something you've never heard of. Go online and post a quote from it. Do something unique. Oh and once you're done put on something tight and go out and use what God gave you. For my sake.

Some More Things That Piss Me Off

noreply@blogger.com (Johnnyboy) — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 03:40:00 +0000

Alright here's some stuff that REALLY pisses me off... or at least it's been pissing me off recently.

1. Cal Ripken
What the fuck is there to like about this guy??? Because he played alot of baseball games in a row??? Wow what a TEAM player. This guy is the quintessential bad sportsman. Everyone likes to talk about his streak, but no one talks about the games where he was nothing more than a balding, hulking, old, doughy faced drip out there sucking it up for the O's... and hindering the team. "Hmm.. Cal can you play today, you don't look very good, I mean you're bleeding pretty profusely from the eyes, nose, ears, ass and mouth." SURE I CAN!!! Nice record asshole. There is no I in team, unless you played for the O's in the 80's, then there was ... it was called Cal Ripken

2. Soccer
Heres and Idea for a sport... We get a bunch of guys and a ball, follow me so far? Ok so we all run around a HUGE field, I mean big, like almost TOO big.. you still with me? Ok so here's the best part, we try to kick said ball into a net! I'M SERIOUS!! We totally kick the fuck out of it and try to get it in the net... oh and we can't use our hands. "Well... we'll anybody guard the net?" OH FUCK YEAH!!! A guy will def be there and get this... HE can use his hands. Dude your mind is so blown right now! "Alright well... what happens if no one scores, or it's tied?" I knew you'd ask that... if that happens we get to totally kick it at the net! "So the game is alot of running and then at the end if its tied we make the game ridiculously easy to end it?" Exactly dude, exactly. "Ok well what if we still cant score, and the other team can't score either?" You ready for this man?? We go home... I swear dude we just end the game. TIE GAME MAN!! EVERYONE WINS!!! "I'm gonna go home and smash my head open with a balpeen hammer." HOLY SHIT BRO!! I WAS DOING THAT ALL MORNING AND THEN I CAME UP WITH SOCCER!!

3. Hippies
Take a shower, cut your hair, stop listening to music which was created years ago to rebel against people like yourselves and get a fucking job. If anything, the music of the 60's and 70's was all about expression, and not following the crowd... so how better to celebrate that music than dressing like that guy at the cafe who's always grinning, growing dreadlocks, and saying "man" after everything. Get over yourself douchebag you drive an SUV.

4. Sandals
Nothing like the look, or smell of feet. Especially in the summer... when you naturally sweat more. Feet are hideous. Sorry girls, you can paint them, wash them, scrub them, whatever you do to them and their still going to be gross. No one wants to look at them. Guys... what the fuckin hell are you thinking? "Well Johnnyboy, its comfortable." Go fuck yourself that's a load of horseshit. Have you ever seen a guy keeled over of wincing in pain and anguish? I'm sure most of us have at one time or another... Now imagine that guy... you walk over, and ask him if he's alright. Now imagine you hear him reply with, "AHHH MY FEET ARE HOT!!" I know that personally I would probably pee on the guy, or at least break a thumb or two.

5. Frisbee
I'd like to think that we've come pretty far as a group... yet we're still bewildered by a fuckin lime green plastic plate. You know what I do when someone tosses me a Frisbee? I take it and purposely launch it in the wrong direction. After a couple of tosses like that, whoever is throwing me the stupid thing gets the point and we can move on to wiffle ball. "But dude its fun!" So is jerking off but I don't do it at picnics. Get a new hobby Mongo.

More soon but I'm tired... there's another thing that pisses me off, being tired. I'll talk about that some other time.

You've done it now, Johnnyboy!

noreply@blogger.com (Phil) — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 06:53:00 +0000

Stay tuned for me to post every awesome thing I find on Hulu. Every Arrested Development, every Andy Barker PI, every The Office, 24, Lost, and any other shows that at least one of my friends likes. Oh, and this:

"You're out of your element, Donny."

I Think That’s The Tops…List!

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny F) — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 02:21:00 +0000

The last list I created was a truly a pain. It was a Top Ten that provoked a lot of thought and effort on my part. That’s not what this blog is all about. This time, I’ve decided to branch out with multiple categories and just create the top “what-have-you” in said category. Without any further dissertation on this, let’s get right into the scary…

Top Woman I Be Intimidated To Have Sex With

Jamie Lee Curtis – Now, I know what you Macho Men are thinking, “He just can’t fit his winky in her pinky, uhuh.” No, I’m cool on that front, hell a very early me had a very early boner from watching Ms. Lee Curtis show her tits in Trading Places (still do). While she seemed like a happy hooker in that flick, it’s the real woman that has scared me. My old man gets AARP magazine (not a bad read for bad shits) and JLC “bares all” from the shoulder up and one thing’s for sure: I’m still frightened. Congrats, she still has a great body and all, but looking at those menacing, wincing eyes, that now pepper grey short hair cut, and that stiff upper lip still makes my dick cringe in fear. What would it be like to have sex with Jamie Lee Curtis? I assume there is NO foreplay whatsoever and I’d probably have to be fully clothed (assuming she is disgusted by all men) with only my fly open for penis access. It is a rather militant operation that lasts as long as Ms. Curtis sees fit. During the whole thing she is probably watching the WE Channel or Monster Truck races very loudly and since Gravedigger doesn’t turn me on that much, I’m in big trouble. For the life of me, I better keep this thing up before she clenches together and rips my junk right off. After I receive a few black eyes and JLC angrily gets off, a report card of what I did right and mostly wrong is received, as I lay in the fetal position and I feel like less of a man because of the whole experience. The other reason I Jamie Lee Curtis scares me? I don’t go for dudes (sorry Sigourney Weaver).
Sigourney Sidenote: I have to admit feeling weird for thinking Sigourney Weaver was hot in Ghostbusters considering she turned into what we all thought she was in the first place: a monster.

Top Douchebag I Should Hate, But Secretly Admire
Bret Michaels – Glam Rock to me is the metal equivalent for disco, but I kind of respect the guy. He was the first rocker to bang Pamela Anderson (Tommy Lee and Kid Rock are still fighting over his sloppies). He’s stayed true to his shit form of rock and it’s worked. Bret is an idiot, a douche, a womanizer and doesn’t stray away from that stigma. He’s parlayed it into a reality show and now new generations that were in diapers when Poison was on the charts want to jump his bones. As I look in my closet at my played-out obnoxious Ed Hardy polo, I see a little Bret Michaels in me. Straight men of America can all see Bret in them figuratively. Women of Rock of Love have seen Bret in them literally.

Top 80's Trainwreck Clip That's Fun To Watch

Corey Haim - The clip says it all and yes Lost Boys 2 is in fact coming out straight-to-DVD with both Coreys (although I question Haim's speaking lines after watching this).

Top Person I Enjoy Seeing Get Fat

Al Gore – I’m 25, I’m in relatively good shape, it just comforts me knowing that he’s getting bigger and I’m getting thinner. Moving on…

Top 2 Guys I’d Like See An Enemy Stuck In An Elevator With
David Lee Roth and Flava Flav – Sure, you might be thinking, “I can party with these guys. I like hip-hop and rock, I can have a great time with these guys.” Ugh, that’s what I first thought. Imagine being totally sober in an elevator. In comes David Lee Roth. Awesome, right! Wrong. I love DLR as much as any fan of Van Halen, but think about how obnoxious he’d be. Highsteping and kicking like a Rockette, all the while making incomprehensible scat noises (bippy-bop!) and such. He’s wasted with a bottle of something really expensive, doesn’t want to share that bottle, and tells you he is the reason Van Halen is successful again (foreshadowing yet another break-up). Then when things couldn’t get any worse on this excruciating elevator of death, in walks Flava Flav. Yelling and screaming and not making any sense, his gigantic clock (and maybe glock as well) make the ride more claustrophobic than Diamond Dave’s highstepping ever was. So Flav’s yelling and Dave making mocking kissy lips with a victim sandwiched in between...I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy (who am I kidding, I would wish much worse). Bippy-boop, indeed.

Top Story We Need To Get Over Forever
Yo Roids! Watching Barry Bonds cheat his way past Hank Aaron’s record and see his massive head (dome, not just ego) inflate grotestly is disgusting. Did Roger Clemens do it? His stats reached an all-time peak after the Red Sox stint, coincidentally when he is being accused are being of enhancing performance. While I thought he was a bad-ass throwing a broken bat at fumanchu wearing Mike Piazza (the Pizza-Man was always a little light on his feet anyway), there was some roid-raging going on there. The debate remains…should they be in the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown? I say without a doubt, absolutely 100%. I think half of Roger Clemens should be there for real reasons, while Barry Bonds should get his own wing, possibly in a bathroom, utility closet, or how about just a hole (think Silence of the Lambs-ish). Throw Cancesco (whose name Spellcheck wanted to correct to “cancers”, how fitting) in there, Sosa, hell even Palmeiro. Why, you ask? I graduated the eighth grade and high school along with five and a half years of college…barely. One of my teachers senior year of high school wrote: “Close Call” (asshole Mr. Wright). In grammar school, I made first and later second honors six years in a row. Alright, so I hit puberty and did nothing for the next six years academic wise. Did my father praise me? No, I got the “you barely made it so we don’t care about your previous accomplishments.” That’s how it should be in baseball. While the halls of academia have honored me with a piece of paper, my family did not let me forget how I screwed up in the past. That’s what life is: a series of trials and errors. Create the Bonds Wing in Cooperstown so we all have a place to piss freely and throw our garbage. Hatredy Sidenote: Fuck Barry Bonds.

Top Guy To Really Overachieve With Women (aka the Lyle Lovitt 2008 Award)

Jordan Bratman (the guy who knocked up Christina Aguilera) – He impregnated one of the hottest, actually talented pop stars and he as neck flab! He’s worse-looking and in worse shape than me. Good for him. Thanks for the hope, Brat Man.

Top Casting for a Crazy Homeless Guy

Jerry Lewis (Law and Order) - From Jerry’s Kids to Jerry’s, uh, Shit. “Got any spare change, glaven.” And he was a murder suspect too! Ah, the hilarity. A small part of me would find it hilarious if it were real too. Somewhere in heaven Dean Martin is laughing. Ain’t that a kick in the head.

Top (Former) Fat Guy That I Gave Up Hating
Jared from Subway – It was one of the first “healthy” aimed commercials for fast food and he was (still is) all over their marketing. I grew tired of him. Then South Park parodied him. That was six years ago. His real ads have been running for nearly 10 YEARS. I got my license, lost my virginity, graduated high school, graduated college, saw a few deaths, saw a few births, moved, and had a few jobs all the while this guy has stayed true to his diet and hocked these fucking subs on us. I give up, keep pimping out those hoagies Jared.

Top Disturbing Thing I’d Like To Do
Punch a really, really hot girl in the face – Think of the scenario, guys. You’re drunk. You’re frisky. You’re courageous. You decide to spit game at a girl that’s way out of your league. Then she rejects you, cold. Not even the old “I have to catch up with my friends” bit. Just plain rude to you. Your friends saw the whole thing. Your confidence is shattered. It ruins your night (until the next drink). Picture the same scenario: rejected. Let’s make it worse, her mini-van shaped friend laughs in your face too. That’s okay guy, you’ve got the power of the punch! She laughs at you, so you deck her square in her face. Your buddy then throws his drink in the fat friend’s face. Then security escorts them out in a huff. You win. Perfect. Actually, I am firmly against violence against women, so let’s just have a dog pounce them instead. Oh and let’s stop making those slutty kissy faces!!!