The New Year Unfolds

I have goals now, and I’m working on them.

Trying to “do stuff” instead of “fucking about.”

Wish me luck. The blog is dead. The Felonius Roughtonius has abandoned me in bad faith.

Everybody must get stoned.

White Lips

In a conversation yesterday between stoney and i while we were both supposed to be working, we had laughed about the lockjaw incident and i jibed stoney about his own oral malfunctions.  He did not find the remark too funny, so in the tradition of assholedness and shittalking, i will relate his story.  Our dear stoney can sometimes get so excited by something he may be prone to drooling at the mouth as he snarles in excitement.  This however, is no malicious snarl like a rabid beast, nonetheless, it is a snarl of wild excitement where he loses control of his saliva and forgets to swallow.  This will usually be accompanied with snorting and mouth-breathing.

 Above this minor, occasional loss of control sits the grand pubah of oral malfunctions.  Stoney will often be so parched with excited dialogue and excessive smoking that his lips will be covered in a dry white substance that is not the storied mystery cream of another episode.  Now i know, everyone’s mouth has been so dried out that they might get a white film in the corner of the mouth, but this is by no exageration a veritable caking of dried saliva that covers the entire lips like cream lipstick.  This could be construed as an isolated episode, but i assure ye readers with full confidence in my truth-telling that it is a perenial event. 

One episode stands out beyond all the rest.  Sitting in a frat room with some friends and some fiends, we were extremely overcrowded as many had seen that the people with the weed had showed up.  Stoney, Suit, and I being the carriers of the sacred nuggets, and at this point, Stoney emptying his bank account after mine had dried out from the Fall and being the true carrier, we proceeded to smoke weed per usual.  Well, the crowded ridiculousness and gayness of the group soon, as it always did, got to us, but none more than stoney.  Looking over at stoney i see he had proverbially just taken a bite out of a piece of wedding cake too big for his face.  well, as i discreetly let him know, he was already noticing a huge bump on his arm.  In my not so discreet way, everyone looked at stoney and hence the bump on his arm.  As a room full of questions pummeled stoney his bumps multiplied with every ‘oh, my god’ and ‘what’s wrong with you’.  In front of everyone, his hives as we came to understand just kept going until he was forced to leave.  Of course, i had the bag cause i was the only one who can roll and suit and I continued to smoke stoney’s bag until we met with him shortly after. 

On completing this story, i have realized that it is poorly written and extremely unfunny.  I hope though at least the stonies will have a smile at the memory of a suffering white lipped leper. 

 With that said, i’d like to move on to another topic.  If anyone is looking to get paid to do nothing at all, i have two recommendations for you.  Temp or substitute teach in northern virginia.  it seems that the employers are as worthless as the citizens of this forsaken land.  or, maybe i’m just as worthless, but that is besides the point.  i have sat at this job all week and have yet to be explained my responsibilites.  though i’ve only made 13 dollars an hour, i still have not done any work.  that’s about 500 bucks to do jack shit.  Stoney can sympathize as we’ve both done nothing and gotten paid.  I ask you, our readers, are you as lazy and worthless as us?  i know the other stonies are just as worthless, but they’ve prolly been busy.  however, i’ve been too busy watching tv on my computer to talk to them. 

1 monkey, 5 bulldogs. What else do you need?

Yes, this will be a Japanese themed day for me.  But how can you blame me?  As much as we vaunt our television, Japan has demolished us with much more interesting programming than our Harvard and Yale grads can ever muster.  Case and point:  A young chimp walking bulldogs. 

F U C K I N G  B R I L L I A N T

Okay, you can ignore the fact that at the beginning of the video the chimp leads all the bulldogs into a ditch (hilarious), but how the chimp wrangles the dogs through the rest of the video is priceless.  This is one smart monkey.  You know there were some Japanese scientists working on training this chimp, which automatically makes Japanese scientists far superior than ours.  Enjoy.  (count this as your weekly video, bitches.  Yes, it is long, but worth the whole watch)

With chimps like that around, they will take over the world soon.  It’s a fact.  This little guy is a lot smarter than a lot of people I know, ahem…  AND he wears overalls. 

there’s nothing i can add…

… to roughty’s masterful la blog.  absolutely nothing omitted that i feel worth mentioning.  in fact, he went into detail in places i would have left out completely — namely, my vomiting incident.  you loyal readers (who are apparently enthralled with pegasii {search term}) had grown accustomed to seeing me stone sober, cradling lovely trout, perch and bass in my adept fishing (and masturbating{search term}) arm.  this is only half the real suityourself.  the other half is the drunken, light-weight puking on stoney’s roof.  by the way, i doubt seriously that stoney has bothered to drag a hose up there and wash that shit off.  hope those infamous la pigeons were hungry for roast beef sandwiches, bong ashes, whiskey, coca-cola and half-digested xanax(sp?) {search term} pills, cuz that’s what they are eating off the roof right now.

did i say there was nothing i can add to roughty’s blog?  well, nearly nothing.  i would feign go into some detail about the culture — if it can so be called — in los angeles, califreakia.  let me start (as i do every day) with the weed sitch.  it is, as i stated earlier, all true.  you can buy it if you have a prescription.  i don’t have a prescription, so i could get busted out there as easily as i could right here in good ole virginny.  stoney, on the other hand, is immune.  he’s legit.  too legit, in fact, to quit.  leave it to the rich blond fucker to have all the luck that the rest of us working men (just me) really deserve.  i have these pictures of ornately arranged bongs {search term}, blunts {search term}, rolling papers {search term} and big, fat, kine bud nuggets {search term} that i should post as soon as possible.  not today.  no camera.  you can continue to wait in vain.  the weed is chron-drizzle-fo-shrizzle.  the youngsters out there are just how they were when george harrison {search term} described them some 40 years ago.  dropouts and losers.  while sir roughtonious and i were traversing the boardwalk one morning, we walked past this band of raggidy fucks who were between the ages of 16 and 22, probably.  they were “protesting” in some way i guess.  they all had some shitty cardboard signs that read, “give me money for prescription weed!”  these busted-ass looking fuckers all had some mangy white-boy dreads {search term}.  you know the kind.  they’re dreaded at the ends, but just real teased-looking nearer to the scalp.  this is because white boy hair doesn’t naturally dread.  you have to either put some wax or something in it or work really hard at it consistently for a long while (see Dankkkkkkkkkk’s dreads from long long ago), and these kids had either run out of wax or motivation, cuz they had these fucked up looking dreads, and coupled with their sweat-stained, tie-dyed greatful dead {search term} t-shirts, they suited out as one of the mottliest crews i’d ever seen.  i smirked at one of them (see “pffffft,” and he asked me for a dollar.  news flash, asshole, if you can’t afford a weed-card, you’re most definitely not going to have the money to support your fledgling tree-habit.  here’s an idea for you.  try cutting that shit off your head, taking whatever money you begged so far and buy a new shirt.  after that, how about getting a job?  this has been the bit about the youth culture.  i didn’t see too many other “kids” around.  most of them were either sleeping under cardboard boxes on the street or eating at restaurants where appetizers cost 400 beezies.  needless to say, i did not fall into either category.

now for a little bit on the rest of the society out there.  service industry is made up almost entirely of mexicans.  as i said before, the kids are either filthy rich or lazy as shit and worthless in both cases.  this leaves a huge void in the marketplace for service industry people — people who know how to work for a dollar even if it means messing up that fresh hair-do or breaking a nail.  mexicans fill this void.  yussir.  all the mexicans i saw were pretty nice to me.  i didn’t try to bust out the spanish on them.  i’m sure they get that enough from tourists just like me, so i just grinned at some of them, exposing my yellowing teeth and my blazed-out red eyes.  surprisingly, lots of them grinned back.  i am not the most sophisticated guy on the block, but i think their grins were, in general, sincere.  could it be that they were happy to be in america and making those big green american dollars?  i dunno.  i like to think so, but who knows?  maybe they just thought if they grinned at them, i’d give them some money or something.  maybe they thought i was a movie star…  yeah, that’s probably it.  yup, that’s the one i’m going with.  as far as other people in the la working world, i didn’t really see many.  again, most of them are either much too rich or much too poor to be seen in any of the places i visited.

a note on commerce in la, they have pretty much the same type of stores there that we have here.  grocery stores, liquor stores, clothing stores, drug stores, electronics stores, home furnishings stores, etc.  as always, some of these places are over-priced, and some are more reasonable.  however, the most reasonable one out there was much more expensive than the most over-priced on in virginia.  likewise, the cost of living is steep.  housing is hardly affordable, even for two gainfully employed folks like roughty’s and my hosts — stoney and lady t.  just like nyc, la is a place i’d love to live so long as i was dirty-rich.  for regular middle-class people, it’s a nice place to visit.

the physical environment was everything i had hoped for in some ways but not as cool as i had hoped in other ways.  temperature was perfecto!  never too hot.  sun always shining.  cool in the morning and evening.  perfect.  sandy beaches and lovely palm trees.  some good looking women — maybe a slightly better ratio than virginia.  however, i didn’t get to see too much of the country, not-developed areas as i had hoped.  i know they exist, because when we went to the greek theater, it was sick-to-deff.  lots of wildlife possibilities and such.  i feel like cali. is as wild as they say, but i just didn’t get a chance to see it.  we stayed in the suburbs of the concrete jungle.  next time, i plan to check out all the wild places and make a better judgment after that.  as far as animalia goes, i saw some lizards, some pigeons and sea-gulls, a bunch of dogs, a cat inside a window, a crazy shark/ray and that is about it.

enough, for now, on la.  now onto more pressing matters — baseball.

 

braves {search term}are poised and ready to strike out at roughty’s shitty mets (who blew the hell out of that 5 run lead roughty alluded to in an earlier post).  dankkkkkkkkkkkkkkk’s redsux are pulling the usual choke-job.  stoney’s dodgers have fallen off a little bit.  the rest of you need to pick a fucking baseball team, cuz you’re missing out on the best season in generations.  get ready, because in two weeks i’m going to be writing about how my beloved braves are in first place and roughty’s favorite player has broken his leg or sustained an equally devastating injury.  all i hope is that pedro martinez gets called up to the bigs soon.  i cannot wait to see him get shelled by the big bats of the atl braves.  it’s going to be dangerous for him, though, so roughty ought to kneel down and say a prayer that pedro doesn’t get killed by a line-drive off chipper’s bat.

speaking of sports, stoney has been awfully silent lately about

michael vick {search term}.  maybe he feels bad for always being such a fucking racist who hates all black people.  he should.  michael vick has been framed, and everyone with half a brain knows it.  it’s just that the white man can’t stand a talented black man having any money, so they’re framing him.  michael vick is the shit. 

 

if he gets suspended, he’ll just go into seclusion for a couple years and work on his skills like luke s. did in one of the star wars {search term} movies with yoda on degoba.  after this, he’ll just have to win three superbowls instead of the 2 he was planning on before.  there’s no way he’s going to jail, and if he does, i can smell a “longest yard” three-quel.  yall need to stop being jealous of michael vick.  just because you’re racist doesn’t make him guilty.  if i were vick’s attorney, i would use the self-defense ploy.  after all, pits are dangerous.  

 

“if mike got bit, you must acquit.”

now, back to one of my fav. topics — john from cincinnati.  as i mentioned before, the show takes place in one “IB.”  imperial beach is the southwestern-most city in the united states.  i thought maybe it was in la, but no.  it’s nearer to san diego, i guess.  no wonder stoney and the rest of his idiot friends had no idea what the fuck i was talking about.  anyways, the show’s first season is over.  the finale was anti-climactic, to say the least.  in fact, it was close to a let-down.  no secrets revealed, no aliens, no death, no jesus christ, no nothing, really.  just dylan mckay and zach morris dicking it up like they did in the early 90s.  they are setting us up for a second season, so i hope the numbers allow this to happen.  john from cincinnati is the best show you’ve never seen.  trust me.  how about one more clip just for good measure?

(look close for zach and dylan)

peace out squabblerinos.

Foreign Invader Takes Over Blogres, Installs New P.M.

Similar to the blietzkreig’s lightning attack of speedy fast quickness, a foreign invader has conquered vacantly empty Blogres.  The invading invaders advantageously took advantage of King Stoney’s debaucherous debauchery on a weekend retreat into the depths of the dark wooded forest of ghouls and plentiful fairy dust.  The Minister of Defense, Roughty McRoughton, and his army of little green Alesman sensed the plot afoot and attempted to meet the insurgent infidels but was impeded by the River of COX’ s Dam break and flooding of the southern swamps of the South end of the Kingdom.  The sole availabe resource to meet invader was the King’s Huntsman, SuitYourSelf the Busy, but the woodsman was off hunting the woods for herbs, berries, fish, and small game.  Now, all that stands in the invader’s way is the Blacksmith, Twitch the White, also the Court’s Rebuter empowered solely with the title of Premier Commenter.    

Travelin’ by day in their own land, the conquerors arrived in the early hours of Blogres and seized the Book of Savagery–the incredulous edict of the King and his court.  With this powerful empowerment the invader gained total controlocity in the unthinking subjects longing for the gift of endowed savagery.  They will now listen in dumbblankfaceirification to the holder of the Book of Savagery. 

His Awesomeness, Chancellor Ixniamak, the head of the new government, has issued his first decree:

Mouth-breathing, grass smoking, wannabe Fuckenstein polska opposition like this will be eliminated:

 

Do not fear, my children, I will be victorious in battle

Your Loving Father and Chancellor,

 

We, the Royal Press, promise to bring you all the details.  We hope we can bring you an exclusive of the Chancellor’s ceremonial Sulfuric Acid baby-head baptismal.  We will exploit all means to bring you the most suffering, death, and destruction of any news organization.   

–Morel the Destroyer–

Brought to you by Apple, Pickers of the Tree of Knowledge, (censored by the Committee to Kill the Human Spirit):

Repeat Offenders

Dedicated to those who just can’t seem to keep it clean…at least they’re keeping it real.

Try matching your favorite Repeat Offender with their repeating offense.

1. smoking herb

2. cocaine, heroin, driving while fucked up

3. credit card forgery, paying for prostitutes, various debauchery

4. cocaine, driving while fucked up

5. smoking crack, marrying bobby brown

6. beating up his wife, smoking crack

7. smoking meth, prostitutes

8. molesting pre-pubescent male children

9. international human rights violations, US Constitutional violations, complete disregard of various international treaties

10. crack, cocaine, driving while fucked up

11. getting some on the side

12. eating cookies

Konichwa, bitches

Puts everyone to shame.

 p.s. stoney’s a bitch

heading west…

…is a frightening prospect.  pretty worried over here.  what if the moviestars like the oompa loompa are too sophisticated for me?  shit, what am i saying?  more sophisticated than ME?!  ME?!!  i know.  you’re all saying to yourselves, “suit, why are you worried?  you are the classiest mutherfucker since don johnson.”  well, i know.  i know.  i mean, it is my divine providence after all.  i’m like lewis and clark.  except more like clark, cuz i’m not going to shoot myself after i get back home. 

all the same, i’m a little worried.  they might be on a different level of consciousness, and maybe i won’t even be able to communicate with them.  worse yet, i might wreck the rental car or get my wallet jacked at lax.  shit, they might blow up my damn plane  — atlanta to lax.  sounds like a lot of fuel in that boeing. 

no good stressing out, though.  that’s why, with this post, i’ll chronicle some of the main reasons why i’m looking forward to l.a.

1.  crossing the mighty mississippi — never done it yet and am looking forward to it, big time.  a big milestone for a waterman like me.

2.  going to another mlb ballpark — dodgers stadium should be fun.  as long as they sell beer and caps, i’ll be all good.  a mets’ loss (or, better yet, a terrible injury to beltran) would just be icing on the cake.

3.  seeing my ole pal roughtonious — live 2 hours down the road from him and have to go to l.a. just to touch bases with a guy i used to see 5 times every day.  p.s. roughty, i apologize for stealing all those subway station sandwiches from you.  i always blamed in on stoney, but it was really me sometimes.  also, while i’m apologizing, sorry for laughing at you for the sj punch to the grill.  you did have it coming, though…  pffft.

4.  feeling comfortable in another city — when you’re a homeboy like me, you really get confident when you go someplace else and can function like a reasonable human.  not sure if this will happen, but i’m thinking positive.

5.  not leaving my wallet in the bar — stoney will remind me this time after the “off the wagon” incident in greenwich vill.  if not, he’ll have a new permanent roommate.

6.  going to the actual locations where some of my favorite movies were shot — training day, friday, don’t be a menace to south central while drinking your juice in the hood.

7.  going to all my favorite places from 90210 — the beach where brenda met dylan, west beverly high, the radio station where david silver learned about speeeeed.

8.  meeting lady t. — after all the hype, i’m ready to meet the genuine article.  if she can make our boy take nudie pics off the blog, she must be a wonderful person.  —editorial sidebar — yes, i’m kissing ass, boys.  this is what you do before you go and share a teeny living space with somebody you never met before.—

9.  the pacific ocean — another one of those things i never saw before.  should be suhweet, gnarly, bodacious and that hang ten sign you do by sticking out your thumb and pinky finger and jiggling your hand around.  maybe i’ll finally get to see the monster swells like on point break.  i’m paddling out, bra!

10.  smoking west coast rocks — i heard they’ll make you grit your teeth until they fall out.  i already packed up my tire pressure guages and steel wool.  yall know how we do.

most of all, though, there’s number 11. scratching the shit out of my pal stoney’s cd collection — i’m sitting here listening to let it be, and wouldn’t you know it, the shit is scratched right to hell — right in the middle of the long and winding road, no less.  why don’t i take it out and put in something else like the love below?  oh.  that is scratched to shit as well.  oh.  what about all your sublime cds?  you guessed it.  looks like someone ran them over.  bob dylan discs?  fuuuucked up.  broke a cd player with one of them just last week – seriously.  why are all my cds scratched?  i’ll tell you.  it’s this blog’s fearless leader — mr stoney.  it’s almost as though he destructulated my shit on purpose.  oh well, iain’tmadatcha.  all i’m saying is you better hide your shit, holmes.  for real.  i’m bringing some rusty nails and broken glass for the whole collection.

all jokes aside, i can’t wait to see my friends again.  the only thing that would make it better is if dankkkkk could come.  what am i saying?  i know he could come if he really wanted to.  (peer-pressure’s a bitch, muthafuckah.) 

Alien Sightings and Paul McCartney is Weak

There I was yesterday, at the Santa Monica courthouse, standing in line to pay a registration ticket. Lady T was sitting on the bench or something, and she went, “Psst,” and I looked over.

BAM!

Ever heard of a motherfucking Oompa Loompa? I had a fucking Oompa Loompa, THE Oompa Loompa, standing right next to me, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and really really small, white Keds.

Little Dude was also in The Dark Crysal, one of Suit’s favorites, and was an Ewok in the old Star Wars. Pimpin.

How did I know he was an alien? It’s pretty fucking obvious.

How do I see all of these world famous celebrities? My inner beauty and stardom obviously acts as a magnet for similar people. Movie stars are inherently and automatically attracted to me by a gravitational pull that is not unlike the phenomenon of certain flowers attracting certain insects, by just growing in a certain shape and color. Biology and evolution (or god’s perfect design, you pick) makes it so that the bugs and their flowers look the same, so they are enmeshed in an eternal relationship of survival and give-and-take. So it goes with my celebrity interactions.

Or it could just be I hang out in courthouses, where celebrities also frequent.

Last July at the courthouse, this guy winked at my special Lady T. WTF you pansy bitch? I don’t care if you can make squeaky voices.

Here’s proof that Paul McCartney is an old gay man.

Notice A) his lame cd is being sold at Starbucks B) the fucking stupid look on his face and C) one of the new songs is called “Vintage Clothes,” and it is fucking shitty.

What’s ridiculous to me is how many great reviews this fucking WEAK cd got from all the big reviewers. This shit is WEAK. Rolling Stone and others, stop sucking this guy’s dick, his new songs suck. The old ones were great, but give me a fucking break, do not give this CD a 4/5 or whatever. Bullshit. I heard that song Vintage Clothes when I was getting coffee, and I am not kidding when I say that song is a Grade A piece of shit. Give me a fucking break McCartney. Fucking Macca. What a bitch.

Paul pisses me off. What a fucking nancy. Yoko pisses me off too, while we’re at it. The two stupid bitches fucking wouldn’t get along for 10 minutes so that they could buy the Beatles catalogue. So who gets it? Michael Fucking Jackson…who has now sold a bunch of it to cover his pedophilia lawyers. At least they came together at the LOVE premier in Vegas late last year, but give me a fucking break. Get over yourselves, you old bitches, what’s done is done, why don’t you sell the rest of the Beatles songs to fucking Dick Cheney while we’re at it.

This is really not funny, but…

… it’s still funny as shit.  i told mr dankkkkkkk on the phone already, but you’ll all appreciate this little gold nugget.

sooo, i told you that i work at a school, right?  well, anyways, my boss is out of town — in sri lanka, actually (not doing drugs or getting blowjobs — aka he’s wasting his time), but during this trip, i’ve been running the show in this class that i’m also enrolled in.  ok, so the dean was pissed off that i was in charge and am not a professor, so he made my boss’s boss sit in on the class while he’s out of town.  his reasoning?  and i quote, “what if someone starts stripping in class?  the g.a. [me] can’t be responsible for those liability issues.”  so, my dept. head and i were laughing about that.  i mean, who strips in class?  nobody, right?  i told her i’d rather have some VT type shit pop off than have some lady start ripping her clothes off in class.

ok, so fast forward to last night’s class.  the lecture was going on, and about an hour into the class, we took a break.  i smoked a cig, and on the walk back to the class i see this dude (i’m not saying he was black or anything, but he wasn’t white, hispanic, asian, american indian or pacific islander) walking through the hallway.  i didn’t recognize him, but no big deal. 

so, about 30 minutes later, i see this hand come in the doorway of the class.  it was the same guy, but i didn’t make the connection at the time.  he pulled the door almost shut so it was only opened like 4 or 5 inches, maybe.  i figured he was studying or talking on the phone, and we were distracting him.  again, no big deal.

then, like 10 minutes later, this lady in my class whispered my name from across the room.  i walk over there and sit down.  she says, “there’s this black guy masturbating in the doorway!”  [pffft]  i didn’t know what to think, so i look over there, and sure enough, there he stands, dick in his hands, wacking it in the doorway of my classroom!  right there so this lady has no choice but to look at his junk!  my department head says to me, “call the cops right now.”  so, i go out of the class toward my office.  by this time, the dude has zipped up and is digging it to the exit.  i saw the back of his head, and he was gone. 

 hahahaha.

 so, i called the cops, and they’ve been interviewing me and my classmate all day long!  how funny is that shit?  with all the porn on the internet, this dude is going to wack it in public to a bunch of 40-60 year-old school teachers?!  w….t….fuck?!  that is some deviant shit fo-rizzle.  the cops didn’t catch him, and in my conversations with them over the past day, they’ve had like 4 other reports about him doing the same shit all summer long. 

my hope is that i’ll catch him next time.  i see myself tackling him and kicking him in the balls.  that’d be funny, but what happens if my hand accidentally touches his johnson or ballsack? 

does that make me gay? 

seriously? 

does it? 

cuz…  

i mean…

 (i really am not sure if i can handle that.)

so, anyways, that’s my funny story.  i’ll bet stoney never saw no shit like that in venice beach!  so, for all you easterners, stop packing your bags.  there’s no need to go west.  we’ve got plenty of sick fucks in this part of the country, too.