3.04.2015

Enrich Your Life with Mutton Bustin'

I had no idea this exists, but I guess America is a rich tapestry of people from a melting pot of cultures and so mathematically it was just a matter of time before I learned that a segment of the population enjoys strapping their children to sheep and watching them hang on for dear life.




At least those kids have some safety equipment. Half the kids in this video look like they're wearing bicycle helmets they brought from home:



"I think the kids are having fun. They look like they're having fun. There's been a few criers, but it's fun." - Mom of the Year.

God bless America.

3.03.2015

10 Easy Steps to Have the Worst Day Ever*


  1. Spend the entire night before wide awake.
    • Not just awake, but frantically trying to fall asleep in desperation. Be sure to get so furious at your inability to sleep that you rile yourself up even more. Then take a sleeping pill at 4 am so you can completely fuck your morning up.
  2. Get stuck in traffic.
    • Not the usual traffic, either. Make sure there are no fewer than two road construction crews, one lane-closing accident, and of course you'll need two psychotic assholes at different intervals to cut you off with no turn signal and immediately stop in your lane. Your normal 25 minute commute should clock in at right around 92 minutes.
  3. Bitch about it on Twitter.
    • This is critical, because while you're walking absent-mindedly and staring at your phone, you'll spill your coffee all over your sleeve.
  4. Forget your computer.
    • You know the one thing you need to take to work to be able to, like, work? Yeah. Leave that at home. But, and this is key: don't remember it until you get to your desk.
  5. Tell your boss.
    • But instead of saying decisively, "I'm going to work from home," or "I'm taking the day off so I don't murder you all in a blind rage," leave it vague enough that your boss can say, "See you soon."
  6. Get your hopes up.
    • So that when your boss says, "You know what I would do?" you can immediately begin fantasizing about going home and falling asleep in your bed and forgetting this whole disaster ever started. That way it cuts extra deep when he tells you, "Just roll down your windows, crank some tunes, and enjoy the ride," like some kind of low-rent Big Lebowski wannabe asshole.
  7. Get stuck in the same fucking traffic, going the other way now.
    • This is where you really lose all faith in humanity and the universe at large. Oh and a cunt in a Miata will cut you off here too. Gotta keep you on your toes!
  8. Get home and grab your computer.
    • This is where you cry softly to yourself for having such a shitty day while simultaneously hating yourself for letting such trivial bullshit bother you so much. THERE IS NO RIGHT WAY TO DO ANYTHING AND YOU ARE THE WORST AT ALL OF IT.
  9. Sit silently on the couch, staring at the floor for like 20 minutes.
    • Tell yourself you're waiting for traffic to die down while knowing all the while that you're actually debating whether to quit your job rather than face the highway again.
  10. Go back to work.
    • Nothing really cements the futility and hopelessness of human existence like having to go to work after all that bullshit.




*Not, like, an actual worst day ever where someone dies or you find out you have cancer or something. "Worst" as in the kind of day you bitch about on facebook or your shitty blog.

3.02.2015

I Owe You All an Apology

Ladies and gentlemen, assorted members of the press, thank you all so much for coming. I must admit, I did not expect my press release to garner so much attention, but I suppose part of the reason we’re all here is that I have repeatedly underestimated the media’s attention to my affairs.

Right. Let me cut straight to the point then. I would like to apologize to everyone: my family, my friends, my fellow competitors, and the public at large. The simple truth is I misled you all when I said that I was the winner of the 1978 Wild Willy’s Wing Ding Wing Eating Contest.

I did in fact attend the contest, and was one of the competitors. However I misremembered my performance day. I did not actually win by eating 47 “Kamikaze Suicide Spicy” wings in under three minutes. The actual contest rules, as noted on the sauce-stained napkin acquired by CBS, state that participants were to consume seven (7) of the afore-mentioned wings in under two minutes.

Further, when the left-leaning magazine Wing World Weekly questioned some points of my story, I reacted poorly. I should not, in retrospect, have called them "cum-guzzling shit goblins hellbent on ruining all that is good on this earth." They were just doing their jobs, and for that I apologize. It is only through diligent reporting and fact checking like that exhibited by Wing World Weekly that the citizens of this great country can hold their politicians and celebrities accountable.

So let me just state for the record that I was not at the 1978 Wild Willy's Wing Ding Contest. It seems I misremembered that when I was correcting my previous misremembrance just 70 seconds ago. It has recently come to my attention that I was not even born yet, and thus could not have attended in any capacity. I regret the error, and appreciate several people on Twitter correcting me. Most notably @TitsMagoo, @BaronVonStretch and @CNN.

I do really enjoy eating hot wings, though, and hope that we can move past this youthful indiscretion and enjoy some together.

I apologize, I was misremembering my enjoyment of wings. It has come to my attention that I have been a vegetarian for 17 years and in fact once renounced chicken wings as "the most shamefully cruel snack food of all." This was do to a misrememberance on my part that the chickens lived after their wings were harvested.

The important thing is that we've addressed this horrific scandal before it blew out of proportion, and now we can move on to other topics, like my duplicity in pushing America into any number of unwanted, fruitless, and criminal wars in the last 30 years.

2.25.2015

Now You Can Eat Russell Wilson's Balls

I know, I know: FINALLY. We've all waited for this day since that dreamy 5'10 touchdown machine breezed into Seattle with his squeaky clean Jesus shtick and the most annoying insurance commercials since the GEICO cavemen. 





Side note: who is the sadder individual, the person who said the Lowe's robot assistant was his new best friend, or the person furiously typing questions to the "Ask Russell" app to get canned responses like some weird insurance shilling version of Cleverbot?