Haven’t done the weird band names segment in a while. I went to the A.V. Club’s “2010: The Year in Band Names” feature, picked the ones I liked, and then stole them. Go check out the whole list here. Let’s just cut right to the chase. As always, most of them contain some sort of crude language, so if you’re offended by that, lighten up, they’re just words. I didn’t make them up, so it’s not my fault.
– Sh*t Fight – V.A.G. (for Very Angry Girls) – Scary Areolas – Stegosaurus Flex
-Sorry I Stabbed Your Daughter – Kill You In The Face – LudaChrist
-Diet Cokeheads – Drug Honkey – The Vomit Arsonist – We Aren’t Very Good
– Caw!Caw! – And I Was Like, What? – Man/Ass – Hogz in Dandyland
– The League of Extraordinary Gz – My Sweet Patootie – Smell My Pillow
– Bird Ate My Donut -Babies With Rabies -Fetus Heist -Wrath of the Girth
– Righteous Brisket – Dangermuffin – Smelly F*cking Milkpants -Meatbikini
– Diarrhea Planet – Syphilis Sauna – The Electric Assholes
Yeah, that’s it. Now go on, get outta here.
This Valentine’s Day, I think it is a good idea to heed this important message from the folks over at CBS.
And guy does raise a good question: why spend money on some piece of rock that used to be coal, when you have a living, breathing instrument of procreation already attached to your body? Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!
365 dilly-dallying days have dawned and dragged by since this Blog was born to a brisk brooding brumal season, alive, abundant and abounding with alliteration. What a long, strange trip it’s been man. I bet you thought I would have run out of material by now, didn’t you? Yet, I continue to cultivate content from the lugubrious life I live. In fact, here’s a funny story of something that happened just the other day. I was at the mall, and I found this pair of shoes that I really liked, and as an added bonus, they were 40% off the original price! I go over and get the salesman’s attention, and I says to the guy, I says, “Hey, can I try these on? I need a 10 1/2.” When he comes back from the stockroom, he’s all like “We only have those left in a 10 or an 11 1/2.” Then I said, “Oh, okay. Thanks,” and left.
Reality truly is stranger than fiction. I can’t even begin to fathom what sort of outlandish events will occur over the next year of this Blog’s life. Well, I’m gonna go get hammered. Happy birthday, Blog!
As a lifetime resident of Minnesota, I have noticed that the state can often have an annoying habit of trying a little too hard to let everyone else know how awesome it is here. So of course, when the 1992 Super Bowl came to the Metrodome in Minneapolis, somebody decided that it would be a great idea to do a “Winter Magic” themed halftime presentation, to show the rest of the world just how great winter in Minnesota really is. The home viewing audience of approximately 80 million was undoubtedly captivated by the performance, which has since set the standard by which Super Bowl halftime shows are judged. Witness the glory:
This coming Sunday, millions of men and women will derive pleasure from watching stuff like this happen:
And also, this:
But don’t worry, if you’ve never seen a football match before, it’s not all dirty like those two pictures. In between all the erotic debauchery, the players will cuddle together and talk for a bit. The quarterback will then gently place his hands in the confluence of the center’s thighs and receive the ball from him. Everyone will chase after each other for a little while, and then probably slap each other on the buttocks if they achieve the desired outcome. And if things go really well, they’ll douse an older gentleman with a sticky, fruit-flavored liquid, and then hug. After all of that, they will celebrate by taking a 50-man gang shower, because after all, nudity is the glue that holds a winning team together.
I am here today to predict the outcome of the upcoming Super Bowl. I don’t really follow football too closely, but I will do my best to make an educated decision. Let’s take a look at the two opposing bands of competitors.
On the one hand, we have a group of men who run around, trying to carry a piece of a dead animal across a painted line. They have a predetermined geographical location that they call “home.” Many people that live in this particular concentrated geographical area claim loyalty to this group of men. Some of them look like this:
On the other hand, we have another group of men, who, just like the first group, call a particular geographical location “home.” They also carry a piece of dead animal around, trying to get it over that line and into a rectangular area of grass. The steel industry, the basis of this team’s name, is depicted in this clip from the Simpsons:
So which of these two teams will emerge victorious? I have a feeling that if the Packers score more points than the Steelers, then the social topography of Green Bay will be pleased. But if the Steelers counter that and score more points than the Packers, then the cartological designation of Pittsburgh will have cause to celebrate. My prediction:
Green Bay Packers – 34
Pittsburgh Steelers – 147
If you haven’t realized yet, I don’t really care which team wins. If you have cable, I’m coming over to your house to watch the Puppy Bowl.
The other day I sat down and thought “Man, my penis has waaaay too much freedom in my pants.” I’m sure you have all had the same realizations. So it got me wondering how I could provide my penis with the structure and strict framework that it has been lacking as of late. It’s just been wandering aimlessly – no direction, no guidelines – and it’s high time that it, and every other penis like it, gain some semblance of pattern in its life. This lead me to the concept of skinny jeans.
At first, I never understood the appeal of skinny jeans. All these people, walking around like Frankenstein’s monster, unable to bend their knees, excess skin blasting upwards out of their pants; I just couldn’t understand, I didn’t see the light. Yet upon further review, the positives begin to reveal themselves – I haven’t gone shopping for a pair yet, but I’m assuming that skinny jeans are a lot cheaper right? Less material = cheaper for the manufacturer to produce = the savings pass on to the consumer. It’s simple economics. Also, with the extremely constricted environment, there can’t be much room for any sort of undergarment in there, so I now won’t have to buy underwear anymore. Another expense averted. I’ll also probably make a ton of new friends, because I will finally be accepted by other skinny jean patrons. I can infiltrate their inner circles, and ask them stuff like, “Is my d**k supposed to hurt this bad?” A whole new world is opening to me!
And just think of the workout I’ll get when I’m trying to put them on in the morning. All that pulling, stuffing, screaming and grunting sounds like a good calorie burn to me. And the screaming and grunting won’t be the only sweet sounds exuding from the situation. Do you hear that? No? Oh, it’s because that was the sound of me not trekking down to Jenny Craig! I’ll be saving so much money here, I’ll probably be able to purchase another pair of skinny jeans! And the new pair that I purchase will only add to the savings. It’s like a perpetual money-saving vortex! Hurrrahhh! And now that my penis and scrotum will be in such close proximity to my body, I can’t even begin to imagine what this will do for my fecundity. It will be like the Fertile Crescent, only in my pants. With the newfound warmth, sperm production should presumably be at an all time high, which will in turn increase my vigor and potency, leading me to spawn a new generation of frugal, skinny jean-wearing rapscallions, who will in turn perpetuate the species even further. It’s simple evolutionary wisdom – an advantageous trait emerges, multiplies, and becomes “normal.” Thus the emergence of skinny jeans. They are nature at work.