Thursday, July 22, 2010

Virgin Hater of the Week

To quote Mr. Belding, what is going on here?



If you haven't seen it, and I'm sure you haven't, another random dude posted on that Stewie Griffin post I made a while back.

Dean said...
Stewie is a GAY BABY, bent on world domination, McPeePants. That's inherently funny.

The show is parody, not plagiarism. As for ripping off The Simpsons, what it actually did was completely neuter that show. Remember when The Simpsons used to seem somewhat subversive? Ever since The Family Guy entered the picture, The Simpsons has seemed about as edgy as My Three Sons or The Brady Bunch.

As for South Park, well that shtick got stale after the movie came out; maybe after the initial viiral video. Played out and not the least bit funny.

Seth Macfarlane is a genius. You probably prefer Leno to Conan, too.
MARCH 3, 2010 3:40 AM


Nothing to bring out haters online like making fun of Stewie Griffin. That’s like saying Luke Skywalker sucks at flying spaceships. Or Megan Fox is ugly.

/braces for impact

There is nothing inherent about a GAY BABY who is bent on world domination. Sounds like Pinky and the Brain. Come to think of it, Stewie does look a lot like one of them

And is your name really Dean? That blows. Or are you a dean? If that’s the case, then go fuck yourself. I’ve never met a dean I liked, and that includes the brilliantly named Dean Cain in How High. Redman, get em!



And why did you write this at 3:40 AM? Oh right, you’re a loser. Why are you reading our blog? I appreciate, but still. And what the FUCK is My Three Sons?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/My_Three_Sons

Goddamn, you must be old. How are we supposed to get that reference? This is the internet, not a church parking lot after Sunday mass.

“Played out and not the least bit funny” Dean, regarding South Park.

(Silence)

(Boos)



And what a great internet-blog-posting quip about Conan to drive home your point at the end. YOU GOT ME! I love Leno, he’s the best! Oh wait, you’re the one in the target market, Mr. Baby boomer.

Enjoy Alzheimer’s disease, I’ll be busy making your daughter call me Stewie.

Cut your goddamn hair, Justin Bieber




First off, the kid lives with Usher. This is some Michael Jackson shit right hurr, U-S-H-E-R R-A-Y-M-O-N-D, my man, I used to be down with you. You were like the black Justin Timberlake, but whiter. I grinded puberty penis all over my slow dance partner to your shit back in the day. And lest I forget to mention “Yeah!” with Lil John, which kept Senor Frogs rocking so well they played it every fucking other song when I was on high school spring break. But now you are just living with this kid? Like combing his hair? Teaching him how to shave? What the fuck.

Here is a video of a little girl crying.

After this video blew up herpes-like all over the internets, Bieber took time to find the girl and attempt to give her a heart attack at 3 years old. She somehow survived, so add her to the piles and piles of prepubescent girls adoring this little pumpkin-pie haircutted freak. And is he hooking up with these girls? The ones who grow the boobs in 6th grade? Or like a horny high schooler? I’m sure Usher just tosses him a magnum when he heads into bed for a Thai-fuckfest, right?

I really want this kid to get hard by puberty. Like become different looking and grow tits or something. He basically lives like Elvis and Obama put together, and should be in like 8th grade. In 8th grade I was calling up a friend with movie channels to see if Erotic Confessions was playing, then go to his house if it was. And I thought I was king shit because I was watching Cinemax.

I hate how he is in rap songs so now I’m pressured to give him some cred. From the accounts of hip-hop hoodrats to probably like, I don’t know, Desean Jackson, this kid is blowing up twitter with entries like “No homo lol but I can fucks with that Bieber white kid. Lol hit me upppp” But no, fuck that. I’m not going to like someone just because Ludacris tells me to. Although he was right about chicken and beer, telling bitches to move out of the way, rolling out, and putting the windows up when I fuck in the backseat.

I’m calling crazed fan shopping mall stabbing in 2014.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Eat Shit and Die: Lebron James



Granted no one used to read this blog when we actually wrote for it, and we ended up aborting this thing quicker than a baby inside a liberal presidential candidates unmarried teenage daughter, but I have to weigh in on this Lebron James thing. For the last year or so I have been screaming off of rooftops how much I hate Lebron James. Every time I hop on the treadmill and tune into sports center to, god forbid, watch highlights of actual sporting events I get flooded with 20 minutes of Lebron James updates. How did Lebron play last night? Where is he going to head next season? Is he going to play for Jay-Z? Is he going to rap for Jay-Z? Did Lebron hurt his hand? Did Lebron hurt his toe? Did Lebron masterbate last night? If so, did he use lotion? If not, did he use something else cool that I haven't even heard of, like toothpaste?
Now I realize that this isn't Lebron's fault, BUT when you decide to host a hour long prime time special announcing where you are headed next season, that is your fault. Every time he talks its always "me, me, me...this is what I did..." Since Lebron has entered the NBA we have seen him develop into one of the most whiney and egotistical athletes this world has ever seen. Now he decides to establish himself as a real leader by jumping on a team where he can hide behind D-Wade when he doesn't want to do it himself. Not to mention Chris Bosh. How stacked do the Heat need to be? I remember once watching a team of all of the NBAs best players on one team play an ordinary team, and the ordinary team won. The year was 1996, and the movie was Space Jam. Fuck the Monstars, and fuck the Heat.

As far as I'm concerned the only way the Heat management can right this wrong is by making a few more clutch key free agent moves before the season begins in order to put together America's most hated team. Acquire T.O., Kanye West, and Dane Cook and their line up would look a little something like this:

F Lebron James
F Terrell Owens
G Kanye West
G Dane Cook
G Mario Chalmers

No offense to Mario Chalmers, but someones gotta bring the ball up the court and Dane Cook isn't as nimble as he needs to be in his skinny jeans. Then, they hire the drunk dad from Independence Day as the team pilot and we all can root for plane crash like the future of Amurica depends on it...




Monday, July 27, 2009

New Blog



Due to the fact that contract negotiations fell through with the other members of this blog, or maybe the fact that I'm the only writer, I have begun a new blog with a much easier name to remember.

WadeBoggsBrewery.blogspot.com

Also a factor? A Google search that revealed the White House’s Office of Management and Budget (OMB) had a ridiculously, almost eerily, similarly titled blog. And no one wants similarly named blogs writing about exactly the same shit. Enjoy.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Colleges I could do without: The Ohio State University



Whenever I’m watching Monday Night Football, I nearly vomit when I hear an athlete refer to his alma mater as “THE” Ohio State University during the introductions for the TV broadcast.

Naturally, I thought that this meant that these fine gentlemen were proud of their collegiate affiliation and wanted all to know that we should look up to them for going there. Let’s take a look at why these guys are so proud of that beacon of higher education whose mascot is a tree that produces these.

Is it because Columbus is such an amazing college town? No, it is lined with Skyline Chili , Steak N Shake, and Dollar stores. Actually, that sounds like a pretty legitimate college town. Let’s try something else.

How about heroes from the gridiron:

Proud men of character in Ohio State football history

Cris Carter (WR, 1984–86)

Prior to Carter's senior season, he secretly signed with notorious sports agent Norby Walters. When the contract was discovered, Carter was ruled ineligible. The absence of Carter in the 1987 offense contributed to a disappointing 6–4–1 season and the firing of Coach Bruce

David Boston (WR, 1996-98)

Left Ohio State a year early. Before the 2004 season, he tested positive for steroids and was ordered to serve a four-game suspension. Soon after, he tore ligaments in his knee and was unable to play for the entire season.

Maurice Clarett (RB, 2002)

Has a laundry list of well-known troubles. Ended up playing just one season. Instead of going on about what you already know, how about a humorous anecdote:

“He would take that water bottle everywhere, including the Bronco weight room, and the team started getting suspicious when, before minicamp practices, he'd grab the bottle and say, "I gotta get my Goose on.'' It wasn't a joke; the Bronco players were convinced he was chugging Grey Goose.”

Jim Tressel (coach, 2001-present)

Dresses like a class A prick while maintaining no class at all. Also has been accused of illegal activities involving players at every school he works for.

Coached at Youngstown State before OSU and led them to a division 1-AA championship by carefully allotting cash payments and car loans to players:

"That's what kept that city alive, the university and the hospitals," said Ray Isaac, quarterback on Tressel's first title team. "We were the toast of the town. We had parades. We had it all."

Isaac had more. As the NCAA would later learn, Isaac was taking money from a booster from virtually the moment he joined the team in 1988. A few hundred here, a thousand or so there, including $3,800 during the 1991 championship season.


At Ohio State, Tressel continued his sleazy ways:


From an ESPN article:

Maurice Clarett also says he likely would have been ineligible for Ohio State's national title season of 2002 if the football staff had not "aligned'' him with an academic advisor whose goal was simply to keep him eligible. He says the academic advisor enrolled him in Independent Study courses and also put him with hand-picked teachers who would pass him whether he attended their classes or not. He says his advisor also introduced him to a tutor who prepared outlines and told him what to write for assignments.”

Before anyone asks why I am assuming “Slow-Mo” is telling the truth, let’s consider who we’re dealing with. Do you really think that Clarett would be able to make this up? How else would he know the words “advisor,” “tutor,” “class,” or “outline”?

Also, there are teammates who agree the program was more corrupt than elections in the Middle East.


Academia


Now instead of making empty claims about how shitty academics are at OSU, I did some investigating. Of course, this research was done with the potential embarrassment of a co-worker seeing the course catalog for Ohio State on my computer screen.


Now, it took me a little while to find the “sports” major, as I began looking for the usual suspects, like “Physical Education” or “Athletic Studies.” Someone must have a PhD in Bullshit Major Names, since they somehow call “Gym” the “School of Physical Activity and Educational Services”


Not only does this “school” give major credit for participating in varsity and club athletics, but the course descriptions are so short it looks like they were written on Twitter.


I shit you not, these are credit worthy at Ohio State (just don’t try to transfer these to another school) :



  • skydiving (“You do NOT have to jump in order to pass the class," according to their website)

  • History of Physical Education and Sports in the United States

  • Problems in Intramural Sports

  • Sport for the Spectator (“A study of the great American spectator sports including football, basketball, baseball, ice hockey, golf, tennis, and others which meet the interests of the class.”)

  • Movement and Self Awareness

  • How to Avoid Dying from Cancer Now and Later (Is this a course title or a redneck's recent AskJeeves search?)

  • Interpersonal and Coping Skills For College and the Workplace (a third-year class)

  • AIDS: What Every College Student Should Know (two words: condom)

  • College Sport (“Explores historical development of college sport; the influence of race, ethnicity, class, and gender.”)

  • Officiating

If you were to give these guys Method Man’s truth serum from “How High” and asked what the best part of OSU was, the unanimous answer would most likely be “all dem white bitches.”


These dudes like going to school in Columbus because of the celebrity status and the ability to play Xbox all day instead of going to class. Since they didn’t graduate, I guess you could say these guys majored in giving nerdy white TA’s boners for having a football player talk to them.


But I don’t limit my hatred of Ohio State to the football team. I hate that they have hot girls. I hate that every guy is a douchebag. I hate that they accept Dave and Buster’s coupons for tuition.


And then there’s the Ohio State fans: what’s not to hate there?




















My point here is that these students, staff, alumni, and fans have no reason to refer to their school as “The” anything. It’s not like the school is Princeton or Oxford, where this pompous behavior would be (slightly) more acceptable. But the fact is that you are going to a third-rate school in a fourth-tier state.



P.S. Don't think that I forgot about you folks at The George Washington University. Congrats on being the runner up here. I have a suggestion for you guys: it may be more accurate to replace “The” with “Thank you for your application to Georgetown, but you’ll have to settle for”

Monday, June 15, 2009

Music Lyrics I Don't Understand Sundays: Threemix

In Eminem’s recent album, Relapse, he talks about a variety of things he’s been doing since he last released an album in 2005. And by “things” I mean “prescription pills.” And by “doing” I mean “swallowing better than Briana Banks.”

In between tales of murder, robbery, and getting butt-fucked by his step-father in a shed, Eminem dedicates a song to his mother, aptly named “My Mom.”

One of the lines strikes me wrong each time I listen to this song. In an effort to understand this lyric, which sticks out worse than a Long John Silver’s fan in a group of Ethiopian refugees, let’s look at the preceding lines one at a time:

Pee in a tea cup? Bitch you ain't my keeper, I'm sleeping

Ah, the old pee in the tea cup trick, eh? Obviously Slim Shady isn’t falling for that one again.

What the fuck you keep on fucking with me for?

Double “fuck.” I like it. Really drives in the point.

Slut you need to leave me the fuck alone I ain't playing,

Nothing like calling your mom a “slut.” Another gem.

Go find you a white crayon and color a fucking zebra.

And the wheels are off.

What the fuck is this line supposed to mean? Even if his mom had a fresh pack of tasty Crayolas in her hand, how was she supposed to track down a zebra? At the zoo? I’m pretty sure as soon as she knelt down near the beast, his mom would get kicked square in the pussy.

And what an insult from Slim! Call me jaded, but I don’t think this punishment has the same pizzazz as, say, telling your mother you’re going to rape her (known in the South as “a pickup line”).

Does crayon even work on zebra? Why not tell her to paint one? Literally anything but a crayon.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

People I Could Do Without: Casual biker wearing intense racing outfit


Nothing like driving along and almost running over some jack-off puttering around on his bike looking like he is prepared to line up for the Tour de France. Instead of squeezing a practice ride between blood-doping sessions, however, this douchasaurus is merely avoiding his family by coasting aimlessly around the block a few times.



I understand spending some dough on a helmet. But gloves? Spandex shirt? Really? Wind resistance doesn’t play a factor when you are only going 11 miles-per-hour and are 11 Krispy Kremes from being legally obese.



Do you put on a spandex onesie and cleats when running a single time around the block? A Rip Hamilton clear mask and arm lingerie to play hoops? Full helmet and pads when tossing the football around?

And you must rock a swim cap and sharkskin swimsuit when sitting in the hot tub too. The closest I come to impersonating Michael Phelps is polishing off a bag of Jalapeno Popper flavored Doritos while laughing my ass off to Weekend at Bernie’s. That is if you don’t count the 1200 daily sit-ups and weekly rimjobs to beauty queens.

Obviously the main reason for this get-up is to create the image that you are an awesome athlete and we should all be jealous of the shape you’re in. And the dedication you show to pedaling. And that you entered a bike race and received a free, skin-tight shirt as a parting gift. And that you think it’s ok to wear it in public.

If you’re so interested in mimicking Lance Armstrong, why don’t you ditch the mother of your three kids after she stuck with you through cancer treatments and marry a B-list singer-songwriter?