2.28.2005
The Word
Okay everybody. I want you to take a deep breath. Grab a hold of something really tight and don't let go. This one is going to be heavy.
What I have to say here might shock or offend you. You might hate me. You might never read this blog again.
This is about a word in the English language. It's just made up of letters, but it's offensive to many. So offensive, in fact, that in the lexicon of curse words, it's one of the lesser used ones.
Seriously.
Go away now.
Don't read this.
You will be offended and God will smite you for listening to the heresy that I preach.
Got it? Okay, good.
Cunt.
There. I said it. Now grow the fuck up.
I got into a bit of trouble this past weekend in my visit to Tallahassee to see the good Dr. Jarae Sacman. Now I don't want you to think that I go around spouting that word, but I'm not afraid of it. I'm a big boy, I can be responsible with it.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not saying you should use this kind of language around your grandmother or in the office. In fact, you should never use it. And it's your God-given right to be offended by the word.
So Friday night we sat at Sacman's apartment after going out for a bit. We enjoyed the classic film CKY2K with two females. We'll call them "Hippie" and "Bitchy."
Nice girls. Seemed pretty cool. We got along and all was well for the time being.
A song by a loud and obnoxious band is featured in the film CKY2K. The song is called "I Sold Your Dog to a Chinese Restaurant." The band's name is Anal Cunt. These are facts.
"Anal Cunt!" I proclaim when the song comes on, simply naming the band. "Alright, great song."
"WHOA!" Hippie says. "We don't like that word."
"What word?" I ask. "Cunt?" I later realized it would have been funnier if I asked them if they were offended by the word "anal" first.
"WHOA!" both Hippie and Bitchy proclaim. They're taken aback, as if I've pulled out a gun and I'm waving it around carelessly.
"Just don't use that word," Bitchy says. "We really don't like it."
"It's part of the band's name," I say. "Besides, it's just a damn word."
I mean seriously. None of us were going to be winning Bible Reading Club Member of the Month here or anything.
"Well if you keep using it, we're just going to leave," Hippie says.
Oh boy. Nothing gets me going more than threats that are totally non-threatening to me. I bite my tongue and walk to the little boy's room to keep myself from doing what I really want to do: yell "CUNT! CUNT! CUNT! CUNT!" And so I drain the urine out of my system and head back to the couch with a cooler head. The girls, apparently, have decided not to leave.
As I sit down, they both give me dirty looks. At this point I've said the word twice, both in fashions that were not meant to be offensive in any way, shape or form. But then I realize that my time away has not eased the situation, and the conversation is still about, lo and behold, me and my free use of the dreaded word which is used to negatively describe the privates of a female.
"I just can't take it," Hippie says. "It's degrading and offensive and I can't hear it."
At this point, my better judgement has gone out the window, along with my patience for these girls. Without any hesitation, I decide to grab the bag of pretzels on the table and hold it in front of Bitchy and Hippie.
"Excuse me ladies," I say. "Would you like some Cunt Brand Pretzels?"
True to their word, Hippie and Bitchy grabbed their things and left, much to the dismay of my friends, who enjoyed the female companionship.
Regardless, we all agreed it was well worth it.
What I have to say here might shock or offend you. You might hate me. You might never read this blog again.
This is about a word in the English language. It's just made up of letters, but it's offensive to many. So offensive, in fact, that in the lexicon of curse words, it's one of the lesser used ones.
Seriously.
Go away now.
Don't read this.
You will be offended and God will smite you for listening to the heresy that I preach.
Got it? Okay, good.
Cunt.
There. I said it. Now grow the fuck up.
I got into a bit of trouble this past weekend in my visit to Tallahassee to see the good Dr. Jarae Sacman. Now I don't want you to think that I go around spouting that word, but I'm not afraid of it. I'm a big boy, I can be responsible with it.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not saying you should use this kind of language around your grandmother or in the office. In fact, you should never use it. And it's your God-given right to be offended by the word.
So Friday night we sat at Sacman's apartment after going out for a bit. We enjoyed the classic film CKY2K with two females. We'll call them "Hippie" and "Bitchy."
Nice girls. Seemed pretty cool. We got along and all was well for the time being.
A song by a loud and obnoxious band is featured in the film CKY2K. The song is called "I Sold Your Dog to a Chinese Restaurant." The band's name is Anal Cunt. These are facts.
"Anal Cunt!" I proclaim when the song comes on, simply naming the band. "Alright, great song."
"WHOA!" Hippie says. "We don't like that word."
"What word?" I ask. "Cunt?" I later realized it would have been funnier if I asked them if they were offended by the word "anal" first.
"WHOA!" both Hippie and Bitchy proclaim. They're taken aback, as if I've pulled out a gun and I'm waving it around carelessly.
"Just don't use that word," Bitchy says. "We really don't like it."
"It's part of the band's name," I say. "Besides, it's just a damn word."
I mean seriously. None of us were going to be winning Bible Reading Club Member of the Month here or anything.
"Well if you keep using it, we're just going to leave," Hippie says.
Oh boy. Nothing gets me going more than threats that are totally non-threatening to me. I bite my tongue and walk to the little boy's room to keep myself from doing what I really want to do: yell "CUNT! CUNT! CUNT! CUNT!" And so I drain the urine out of my system and head back to the couch with a cooler head. The girls, apparently, have decided not to leave.
As I sit down, they both give me dirty looks. At this point I've said the word twice, both in fashions that were not meant to be offensive in any way, shape or form. But then I realize that my time away has not eased the situation, and the conversation is still about, lo and behold, me and my free use of the dreaded word which is used to negatively describe the privates of a female.
"I just can't take it," Hippie says. "It's degrading and offensive and I can't hear it."
At this point, my better judgement has gone out the window, along with my patience for these girls. Without any hesitation, I decide to grab the bag of pretzels on the table and hold it in front of Bitchy and Hippie.
"Excuse me ladies," I say. "Would you like some Cunt Brand Pretzels?"
True to their word, Hippie and Bitchy grabbed their things and left, much to the dismay of my friends, who enjoyed the female companionship.
Regardless, we all agreed it was well worth it.
2.25.2005
Forever's gonna start tonight...
Two of my most favorite things in the world are covers of terrible 80's pop songs and abused kitchenware.
As you can imagine, it's a bit difficult for things like this to come together in a coherent or successful fashion.
Enter Hurra Torpedo.
But the geniuses of Hurra Torpedo don't just provide you with a horrible 80's cover and abused kitchenware, oh no. Let me make a list of what makes them so great:
-Grizzly beard.
-Heaven's Gate-style Adidas soccer jumpsuits.
-Bare man-ass.
-Over-extended buildup to an event that is uneventful.
-Man unnecessarily stirring a pot.
-Nerdy guys from Norway.
Honestly, if that doesn't make you want to watch this video, you're visiting the wrong Web site. Get lost.
For the the rest of you...
"Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Hurra Torpedo
Now encoded in shitty WMV goodness for all you folks who had trouble with the DivX!
As you can imagine, it's a bit difficult for things like this to come together in a coherent or successful fashion.
Enter Hurra Torpedo.
But the geniuses of Hurra Torpedo don't just provide you with a horrible 80's cover and abused kitchenware, oh no. Let me make a list of what makes them so great:
-Grizzly beard.
-Heaven's Gate-style Adidas soccer jumpsuits.
-Bare man-ass.
-Over-extended buildup to an event that is uneventful.
-Man unnecessarily stirring a pot.
-Nerdy guys from Norway.
Honestly, if that doesn't make you want to watch this video, you're visiting the wrong Web site. Get lost.
For the the rest of you...
Now encoded in shitty WMV goodness for all you folks who had trouble with the DivX!
2.21.2005
Get your ass to Mars!
Our favorite hero and serial-groper may have been busy for the past two years forcing the girly-men in California to submission, but, as I've shared with you all before, that doesn't mean you can't get your usual fix of the "fantastic adventures" popularized by Arnie.That's right, ArnoCorps is still around and recently announced that they're working on their first full-length debut album, aptly titled "ArnoCorps." They also say they'll be touring again in March, but seeing as how they only tour in California, I don't think we'll be seeing them anytime soon. But I'd pay top dollar for the opportunity.
But, for those of you not in the know, any similarities between ArnoCorps and Arnie are purely coincidental. This is action-adventure hardcore rock & roll, which, of course, serves as the best medium to share ancient tales of heroes passed down from generation to generation.
But if you were looking for a Kindergarten Cop or Jingle All the Way song, not gonna happen. ArnoCorps says that these ancient tales of lore and mythology are "worthy in many respects," but do not encompass the action-adventure lifestyle that makes up their repertoire.
Holzfeur, the band's Austrian lead singer, did an interview with a Chicago radio station a few months ago, and went out of his way to explain that they are not a tribute band, as well as detalining how he thought his grandmother's boobs were punching bags at the ripe-old age of 4. But for ArnoCorps fans and virgins alike, it's an interview that's definitely worth the download.
2.16.2005
Fuck You
2.10.2005
Osama bin Laden Finding Team
Having survived a week without a computer, my graphics card finally arrived in the mail. And so, this long delayed post has finally made its appearance.
From the "Going to Hell" department, my good friend Brandon and his Osama bin Laden Finding Team, which also features Will and Dornacher (pictured right), have gained a bit of attention for their Ebay auction.
While the amateur show "hosts" are somewhat awkward and untrained, Brandon used his extensive PR skills on the The Asylum Show this past weekend to carry the segment and also promote his mercenary services. Being the nice guy I am, I'm hosting the entire interview segment here for you to listen to. It weighs in at about 10 megs and runs almost 22 minutes.
Enjoy the testicle torture and the opium.
2.01.2005
Lex Luger Returns!
Wow, it has been way too long since I've updated. Been too busy with a whole mess full of stuff, but I finally have found the time and have also been in good enough spirits to provide you with this quality update... or not. Let me know if you like it.
The wrestling will take a minor hiatus. I'm sick of throwing together those images and cutting and coding the video files, so deal.
But as for the wrestling news, well that's gotta continue. And who better to talk about than Lex Luger?
That's right, our favorite mullet-wearing meathead, the master of the torture rack, good ol' Lex Luger. Haven't heard from him since he got coked up with Miss Elizabeth and was too fucked up to call the cops when she was dying. Class act, that Luger is.
My friends and I have often hilariously (and inappropriately) wondered how that series of events played out. Rather than horribly attempt to recreate it through text, which cannot provide the comedic context necessary for such inappropriateness, I will instead do a photo essay.
So now, for the obligatory disclaimer:
You've been warned.
And so, you may ask, what inspired the return of Luger at this point in time? Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he's in the news again. I originally thought of creating the comic strip for this one, but I decided the text will suffice, since the story is so hilarious that it could only involve Lex Luger himself.
From prowrestling.com:
Lawrence Pfohl, wrestling's 'Lex Luger,' was arrested Monday morning on DUI and other related charges. Authorities made the arrest on 1-575, reports the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
A Cobb County officer found Pfohl stopped on the side of the interstate highway. The officer, upon investigating the car, discovered Pfohl slumped over his steering wheel.
The former pro wrestler eventually woke up and drove away and the officer called authorities for assistance. He was later taken into custody on charges that included DUI, driving on an expired tag, alteration of tag, no proof of insurance and having an open container.
Really, folks. Does it get better than that? Just picture good ol' Lawrence "Luger" Pfohl passed out at the wheel of his car. The cop goes back to his squad car to write up a ticket and maybe call for an ambulance, thinking the asshole is dead. Luger, in a drunken slumber, finally wakes up and takes a peek in the rear view mirror. Oh shit, cops!
And he peels outta there.
Brilliant.
|
2003 - 2005 Reverend Hughes |
