Archive for the 'blogs' Category

Abdication saves ruler from the blade

Shiiiiit.  I’ve been gone.  I know it, you know it, all of SWS knows it.  I hear it almost daily from Stoney’s filthy face sewer. 

The glory days of summer are over (for the time being) my friends.  All the joy I experienced for writing words laced with daggers, tasers, and cocaine has dropped out the window.  Now when I sit down to this shitbox of a computer, it is to write bullshit about how China’s economy is squeezing Atlas’ testicles, or comparing/contrasting the works of Thomas Jefferson to John Locke.  F U C K I N G   B U L L S H I T.  Heres my comparison for you professor, they are both rotted corpses and both were probably assholes.  Deal with that.

I hate school, always have.  I enjoy learning, but do not feel the need to participate in an institution’s theory of how to learn.  A college degree means only one thing; you put up with four-? years of bullshit and getting fucked by pricks who believe they are better than you.  A degree does not mean you are smart.  See also: Dank, Suit, and Stoney.  I know plenty of college graduates who are complete and utter mongoloids, and I am sure you readers do as well.  It is all about how much shit you are willing to take.

That being said, I am taking the bullshit royally lately.  Mired in group projects with a bunch of knuckle-dragging slackers who cannot perform basic grammatical or mathematic operations has left me increasingly jaded; more so than usual.  Honestly, I have not thought about this fucking blog in quite some time, and yes it shows.  With many calls for the king’s head, I was teetering ever so close to one of Stoney’s false chops, hoping to extort me back into writing. 

However, the king has abdicated his throne for a while to a worthy up-and-comer from the population – Twitch.  I salute you, Twitch for picking up my slack in these dark and dire times.  The king will be back, most likely with a sharper tongue and infinitely more skewed views.  Abdication will always save one’s head from the chop.  More to come at a later date………I promise.


His Royal Roughtonius of Funkytown.

school, baseball/football, dentistry and blogistry

this is the first week of school. fucking worst. doing all the work for none of the money as… per… usual. worst. oh well, as we all know, the first week of fall semester means one thing above all others — girls with tans in their fresh threads. yup that’s right. all over the place. william and mary had dorky ass tanned chicks in fresh threads. when you saw them, you were like, “hey, how did that roast turkey escape from the window of boston market?” now, i’m at a dif. place and the ladies are way dif. way hotter and… wait for it… younger.

you know it’s bad, but it feels so right. my mind’s telling me no but my body, my body’s telling me ye-e-es. (if you don’t know this line from the classic rkelly song, i’ll bet you had zero darkies in your whole high school. yup.) so, that’s what school’s about. sitting here and working and staring at 18-yr old girls… sad and deplorable, i know, but it’s what i’ve been reduced to and, truth be told, i’ll bet you fucks would do the same goddam thing. uh-huh.

braves are playing terribly. i think i’m going to have to say that this may not be their year. i hate to be pessimistic, but i don’t want to fool myself either. they’ll have two great games, and then 2 terrible games. they need starting pitching, and they don’t have it. it’s a shame, but i’m taking the long view. if they don’t win it all this year, it’ll make it that much better when they do win it — next year. just the same, with 30 games left, they’re only a few games out of the WC and the Divis., so hope is not lost just yet. nearly lost, but not quite lost completely.

the mets are fucking terrible. i hate everyone on their gay team. i hate their black coach (not cuz he’s black, though), and i hate their speedy baserunners. i hate the mets and i hope their plane crashes. i’m dead serious when i say this. nothing would make me happier than if omar manaya, jose reyes, carlos beltran and david wright got run over by a bus and then gored by a bull right in their respective junks. seriously. they’re so bad, and i hate them. good thing they’re getting destroyed by the phillies every night this week on my tv! pla-zow!!

speaking of soooo bad, i hate the red sux. dankkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk, you know better than to think they were winners. now, it’s crunch time, and manny has gotten some “injury” (aka yeast infection) and papi is too busy looking like a black and even more deformed andre the giant to hit homeruns. … … this is me trying to think of some other redsux to make fun of… … … wait a minute… … … they got nobody else. their team is made up of two power hitters and a million other foreign or geriatric also-rans. i hate the redsux, and they’re getting their just deserts by getting destroyed by the YANKEES two games in a row. bla-zam!! a-rod can hit, and manny and papi should learn something about class from him.

i got a fantasy football team, and i’m in a pickle. i am in a league with several of my professional superiors. this is fine, but i know more about football than them, so i’m torn between letting them win for the guan-shi (aka asskissing) or beating them back to the stone age just cuz i can. i think the former sounds more likely, but i haven’t decided. my team includes, among others, the following destroyers:

“Fast” Willie Parker —

Clinton Portis —

Alge Crumpler —

Tom Brady —

and many more villainous football rascals. get ready for a season of destruction, i’ll say to all who challenge me. i prefer baseball but have no problem embarrassing anyone who asks for it on the gridiron as well.

what i’m really looking forward to about football season is a) colder weather and b) fishing. the summer sucks cuz it’s hot and it’s hard to make the fish bite. when it gets a little cooler, i’ll get back to my main aquatic pastime, and then the deluge of fishing pictures will begin anew. prepare yourselves while there’s still time.

two nights ago, i broke off my toof. it broke off fo rizzeal. for the previous three days i had thought i had something between a couple of my teef, and i had been flossing like a mad man. then, the other night i was eating some delicious pretzels (honey mustard and onion flava) and felt something strange. i had broke off (and subsequently injested) by own toofus. it was delicious as it, too, was coated with the honey mustard and onion flava’d powder, but when i put my tongue into my toof’s former place of residence, i felt nothing but a terrible sink-hole. my toof was, how shall i say this, gonnnnnnnnn!!!!!!! ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! it was so freaking scary. i was so freaked out. i thought my whole head was going to implode or something, and i’m almost sure it had nothing to do with how blazed i was. just the same, i went to the dentist the next day, and he told me that i had to get a crown… so i did… now i have spent 800 bizones, and i feel nobetter than i did with my old (obviously flawed) toof. this brings me to the main point of this paragraph. i have no idea what dentists are all about. on the one hand, i think it’s good to take care of this stuff before it gets out of hand (as in this particular case) but at the same time, why would you go to the dentist if your toofuses don’t hurt? after all, if it ain’t broke… (you can finish this sentence, surely). in my case, it was broke. it being my toof. and now it’s back. i have a dynamic, space-age toof now, and i will chomp the fingers of anyone who questions my oral hygiene. fyi, this is what a crown looks like

don’t question me when i say that i will verily chomp upon your fingers with my radioactive toof of fury.

last topic for the day — blogs. i was teaching class, and one of my students was saying, “well, you can’t believe anything you read on blogs anyway.” i replied, “sure you can. you just have to read the right blogs.” this was my gut reaction, and i would stick with it. blogs are only as reliable as those who write them. in our case, i think this is a bit different. we don’t write this shit because we want to convince people that we are a) smart or b) cool. in fact, most of the time, these blogs are dedicated to our real loserocity. this is, i think, what makes our blog different from the blog-herd currently polluting the web. everyone else is out there preaching about this or that important issue but really saying very little that matters at all. we are talking about pegasii, tv shows, fake marriages, and other meaningless, non-sensical bullshit, but at least what we’re saying means something to us. i mean, at least when stoney writes something, he knows roughty, twitch, dankklkkkiel and i will like it. when i write something, i know they will like it. when roughty writes something, he knows we’ll like it. when dankkkkkkkkkkkkkk writes something, he thinks that we’ll like it, (and though he’s usually wrong, we like him anyways sometimes). so, my point is that dankkkkkkkkkkkkiel is cool even though his blogs are not, and we are all losers who write the worst, best blog in the galaxy. just kidding. this blog sucks, and nobody should ever waste their time reading or writing anything for this crap-chunk.

[shit aint working right]
yall know…

god damnit stoney!

you pansy! 

dankkkkkkkkk will be the first to tell you that you’re not in touch with your feelings, and i actually agree with his hyper-girly perspective on this issue. 

clearly, your poor little feelings were bruised by the fact that i (def. not dankkkkkkkkk) have a job and do not always have time to meet in this blogariffic “clubhouse” to talk about girls and tv shows and ganga-weed and funny sports bloopers and scientology and celbrities and the rest of the endless string of drivvvvvvle.  rather than just saying that your poor little feelings are bruised, you flew off the handle and threatened another choppulation.  this, sir, is not appropriate.  you don’t always have to chop people who piss you off (dankkkkkk and suit) — or move to the other side of the country from them (jack, kay and kstack) — or write blogs about how terrible they are.  follow dankkkkkkkkk’s advice; get in touch with your emotions.

search your feelings, luke.  you know it to be true.

the truth is that you are scared of being alone in the blogosphere.  rather than risk fading out and blowing away like so much sawdust, you alienate dankkkkkkkkk and suit and simultaneously corral roughtonious into a homosexual electronic embrace. 

you should know by now that the firm foundation on which the wageslave was built (ie — roughty and suit) has been holding this entire structure together since minute one of hour one of day one of month one.  what the hell was supposed to happen when you were xan’ed out at work?  and in key west?  and drunk at home?  i’ll tell you what happened.  roughty and suit (and some other hangers-on) picked up the slack.  stoneywageslave was wounded, and we bandaged its wounds, gave it a pat on the head and sent it on its way better than it was before your slack-ass crumbled into oblivion.

in short, stoney, you should be ashamed of yourself for disgracing the blog.  further, you should pray to everything you hold holy that when all of my loyal readers read that you were chopping me, that they didn’t pack up their trucks and move on to search for their suityourself fixes in the nether regions of the web.  you’re treading on thin ice, son, and you better get down on your knees and grovel.

as far as dankkkkkkkk goes, i suggest that you limit him to pics only.  his pics are often flavorful, but his text is rarely intelligible.  it’s been a few years since william and mary, so the humongous words he frequently busts out are no longer as impressive to me as they once were.  i need more of the old dankkkkkkkkkkk — dumb ass yankee-land stories and weed smoking adventure tales…  no more coup d’etat, and surely no more feaux-candidacies.  my advice — stick to pics. 

now dankkkkkkkkk, as you read these words (and i know you’re gonna) please do the right thing.  don’t give me the legendary dankkkkkk cold-shoulder.  rather, take my advice for what it is — sage advice from a worthy counselor…  think of it as…


i dunno…

something like this…

holy gospel.  that’s what it is.  and you shall address it as such or risk fury of heaven (kempsville).

in other, non-gay-ass-booger-eating-blogger news, the atlanta braves are coming on strong.  here are a few faces that are either already haunting your dreams (roughty) or will shortly appear there (fans of any other non-NL east team).

willie harris

learn something for a change, and read this article.

yunel escobar

4-4 last night with 3 rbis.  defies logic and play better than the player he’s replacing…

edgar renteria

going for his first ever 200-hit season.

no need to mention the names of the two best perennial braves powerhouses…

walk-off double last night.

roughty, pray he never comes out of his slump.  makes david wright look like a blind t-ball player.

finally, the devastating force behind this year’s championship run — mark teixeira

last note, if this post doesn’t bring in the awesome and super-cool page views you bungholes are so interested in, why don’t you cry about it?!  who gives a shit if johnny joe the startrek dorkus reads this shit or doesn’t?  not me.  it’s not like colin powell, george foreman or dankkkkkkkk’s mom are reading this shit, so why the hell would we give a shit?  get a reality check, o ye worthless blogaholics; this blog is a piece of crap.  denying its pieceofcrapitude is denying the blog of its one real strength.

pu-pu-pu-peace out.

Rubber Matches, Growing Up, Other Reflections and another Roll Call

the first category tag i clicked was worthless friday, cuz that’s what i’m in.  it’s fantastic.  finally some time to interact with the tech-junkies, alcoholics and weed-fiends who read this link-laden, anti-american, diaperlicious bloghole. 

has anybody noticed that politics are continuing to play a large role in our blog?!  i can’t believe that shit.  if you knew, (and most of you do), the authors, you’d be as surprised as me.  four years in the burg, and we never talked about it.  now it’s all over everything.  i think that comes along with growing older.  things we never cared about before are starting to look more and more important.  we’re all realizing our global citizenship, and i think it’s pretty encouraging.  now all we have to do is change the minds of all the fuckos in general society *(see stoney’s note about the a&f models on the airplane… these are the dipshits to whom i’m referring.) 

on another very different topic, there’s this issue going on in the baseball world.  my boy john smoltz won his 200th career decision last night.  i don’t need to remind any of you who the braves defeated.  i don’t need to tell you that they beat the metropolitans.  further, i don’t need to explain to any of you that this win brough the braves record against the mets to 6 wins and 3 losses on the season.  no, i don’t need to mention any of these things.  why am i talking about it then?  to hurt your sensitive yankee feelings?  no.  to rub salt into your still-smarting wounds from last october?  of course not.  well, i’ll tell you why.  the braves are currently recruiting new fans, and if you all have been converted over the past few days, just let me know, and i’ll be happy to provide a letter of recommendation.  no guarantees, but it’s at least a 50-50 they’ll accept you.  last night’s prodigious victory over the hated mets was a rubber match.  “what is a rubber match?” all of you except the sport-savvy roughty might be asking yourselves.  again, i’ll explain it for you.  in a 3-game series, if each team wins one of the first two games, game three is the rubber match.  in a 7-game series that’s tied at three games each, game seven is the rubber match.  check out this helpful wiki article on the topic.

what’s the point of this discussion? it’s not just to make fun of the sucky mets.  in fact, i want to bring it back to politics.  since i’ve been old enough to think about politics, there have been two presidents.  (during bush the elder’s administration, i didn’t understand anything at all about it.)  these presidents have been billy clinton and george dubya bush — a democrat and a republican.  in 2008, we’ll have the rubber match between these two political powerhouses.  as in sports, this rubber match will play a big role on the way our generation will be viewed.  will our generation be defined by the shitty republicans or the shitty democrats?  lord only knows.  i got a guess, but it’s just that — a guess.  so i won’t even mention it here.  in a baseball rubber match, all we can do is drink beer and root for our own version of the good guys.  last night, my team won, and i was happy.  roughty’s team lost, and i’m sure he drowned on his tears.  in politics, however, we can play the game and get involved.  we can be the shortstop who turns the double play, or we can be the asshole who lets the ball roll right between his legs.  (by the by, what team was he on again?  hahaha.)  either way, in politics, we don’t have to sit on the sidelines.  we can cast our votes and join in the action, right?  here’s the other big difference.  if i make a throwing error, and the winning run scores for the other team, the game is over and i immediately know who won.  if i hit the walk-off homer, it’s conclusive.  i’m the big winner.  with politics, it’s not so cut and dry.  i might cast my vote and be all happy for a couple years after my selected puppet wins.  then, out of nowhere, he blows some country off the map, and my walk-off homer turns into a “you-blew-it” game ending error. that’s why, when this year’s political rubber match comes along, i’ll be drinking beer and watching from the sidelines.  the punchline of this discourse — do yourself a favor and don’t vote.  vote for your favorite amer. idol.  vote for which of the stars dances best.  vote for the best apple pie you ate at the county fair.  don’t vote for the president.  you’ll invariably be sorry!

thus ends the politics of this post.

i’m still going to school.  it still sucks.  i also work at a school.  that, too, is no good.  i am trying to learn about the material required for my degree, but all i keep learning about is that everybody only cares about money.  the only question my peers and superiors ask themselves is, “how can i make the most money off this situation?”  it’s sad to think that this is the world we’re trying to earn membership into.  maybe the solution is to drop out and move to an island and try to grow coconuts for food and decorative brassieres.  my ridiculous boss’s boss’s boss’s boss volunteered me today to take part in some terrible task around the office.  my autonomy is non-existant.  i don’t decide what i do at all.  they tell me what to do, and i do it.  it’s bad for one’s psychology.  you’ve all been there.  i guess the right thing to do is just grin and bear it until retirement… in like 60 years.  one more thing about work, i had to make a presentation yesterday to a room full of suits.  i wore a rainbow colored (ambiguously androgenous) plaid shirt untucked and my oldest, rattiest pants.  i gave a great presentation.  (probably because dank wasn’t there flicking his damned zippo to distract me.)  after this, i got an email from my boss’s boss who told me that i should have dressed nicer.  this is a big old problem in our society.  why in the world do people still judge you based on the clothes you wear?  i’ll tell you.  it’s because they’re terrible idiots who don’t know any better.  and these are the people who i’m scrambling to compete with as a peer…  sad.

well, mr dank nuggets is in, so let the fun begin.  in honor of him, i’m taking this opportunity to post yet another savage roll call.  feast your eyes on the following collection:

most savage cartoon character:  Monterey Jack — he’ll whip your ass and then console you in a lovely aussie accent.

honorable mention:  Nermal — fresh off the boat from abu dhabi

least savage cartoon character:  Rita and Runt — an ill-fated space-filler in an otherwise exceptional show

most savage world leader:  Queen of Jordan — rules with an iron fist and a lovely pair of jumblies

honorable mention:  Stalin — (translation of caption:  respect the moustache.  fear the moustache.  obey the moustache.)

least savage world leader:  Jacques Chirac (someone either just snuck up him, or he was presented with a lovely quiche.)

most savage cereal mascot:  Sonny (cocoa puffs) — this guy has “junkie” written all over his face

honorable mention:  Andy Milonakis (fruity pebbles)

least savage ceareal mascot:  Tony (frosted flakes) — why don’t you find a gayer bandana.  we’re not all convinced you’re a homo yet.

most savage car model of all times:  AMC Eagle (no competition)

honorable mention:  El Camino (the original cross-over vehicle)

least savage car model of all times:  ford tempo (my first car)

most savage blogger:  suityourself (no photo available)

least savage blogger:  you (look in the mirror and recognize your inferiority.)

finally, most savage drugs:  steriods

least savage drugs:  whipits (you’ll freeze your lungs)

Another one bites the dust


CHOP!  I wonder how a guillotine sounds.  Hmm, ponderous.


Stoney member Haganav is history.  He has been on the chopping block for quite some time, and after he gave me some lip the other day, his fate was solidified.  Stoney was so pleased with my dismissal of HouseParty, that he has tasked me with Haganav’s, “o-bitch-uary”.

 People have jeered me commenting, “You only axed the weakest link who didn’t have any posts.”  Yeah, that’s why he was the first to go assholes.  Yet now Haganav – who did not impress with the quantity of posts, but for a while was the single day record holder for post views – finds his head tumbling into the basket. 

As you faithful readers may have seen in my comments on Haganav’s posts, I enjoy giving him shit.  It’s all in jest, and he knows it.  Even though he single-handedly holds the record for, “Most Roughty Knuckle Sandwiches Eaten” he will be allowed to resubmit drafts to the Stoney team after a probationary period.  And after we receive his stipend.  Get your shit together Haganav, there are no third chances.    

I leave you to the stylings of one, Freddy Mercury.


Good-bye HouseParty, we hardly knew ye


CHOP!  HouseParty is no more.  So, you thought we were so cute and cuddly, huh?  Stoney and I are not only dead sexy, but ruthless executers.   

Nobody is safe, especially when they do not post.  HouseParty, while his musings would have benefited this blog immensely, chose not to post after his initial introduction.  So yoink!  He’s gone.  We are like digital ninjas.  We sneak into the servers at night and relinquish the writing privileges of the retarded children of the blog. 

I never know if Stoney will axe me, or vice versa.  That is how we keep our shit together.  With the Sword of Damocles hanging over our heads, we persevere.  Nobody is safe on this site; it is with this agenda that we are able to have quality control.  With threat of banishment ever-present, our writers fear they will be the wildebeest to our wrathful crocodile.  Let this be a lesson to all WageSlavers, keep up the good work (and it is good fellas) or fear the reaper. 

The Blog

Despite massive attempts to forget about this blog and never return, Stoney is back in action.  What have I been up to while not blogging?  Not too much actually. More of the same. I’m flat, dead ass broke. I have been showering semi-regularly, which makes me feel nice.

Who’s still coming back? Do you like feeling disappointed by our negligence? I think that you do.

Are you my friend? Do I know you?

Sid Vicious fans remain our greatest asset. I wonder if you little Vicious-ites are getting down on this blog, and keep coming back. I imagine so.

As a recap for those of you who don’t know, I work on this blog from work. I try not to ever ever work on it when I’m not getting paid for something else. Why should I?

Possible new job lined up for next week at a pretty big film company. I’m excited to say the least, but after a string of excessive job-prospect let downs, I’m trying not to give a fuck, but it’s hard.

If I get a new job, and it kicks ass, I probably will be blogging a lot less.  This very well could be the twilight years of our WordPress extension.

Roughty is coming to visit this summer, which should be nice. Dank came last summer….”Very nice.”

Hope all of you are doing good and having fun.

Blogrolls are gay and non-savage

I got a lot of hits from my “gay” post the other day. I use the word “gay” a lot, and I use it in a derogatory fashion. I just wanted to clarify that, as Jerry Seinfeld would say, “Not that there’s anything wrong with it,” but I can still use the fuck out of the word to make fun of shit that I think is…..really fucking gay. If you want to call something “white” or “cracker” or some shit, go right ahead, I don’t care, you fucking gay ass bitch.

Blogrolls are gay as shit. Let me tell you why.

First, this relates to my Circle Jerk post. Blogrolls facillitate a circle jerk mentality, where everybody is friends with each other, and there’s a bunch of people running around in circles, clicking on everyone’s blog and stroking themselves to The Sound of Music. NON-SAVAGE.

This blog is an entity unto itself. I hereby declare that this blog shall have no “blogroll,” in the regular sense of the word.

I will not rely upon the linkage of others to expose my grandeur to the world. If you hear about this site, you heard about it from someone who has been here, not just on a random, late-night, internet blog binge (you are gay if you do that) link sausage fest. Fuck you, blogrollers, you suck.

And another thing. I’m trying to think of it, but I think I will post funny pictures or something that someone else took and copyrighted as their own. Get with the program, bitches, you cannot keep shit on lock down on the internet. The fucking internet pirates used to be on the “good team,” but then they realized how gay it was, so they became pirates, and now there’s tons of free shit on the internet, for you and I to consume for free.

And you know what else? Who the hell are you, reading this site? I mean seriously. Do you know me? Do you know Roughty? Are you interested in our demise, or are you just randomly clicking around the internet. Or is this just a mini-circle jerk, which will never become a mega-jerk because I won’t have a non-savage blogroll up here.

Anyway, I guess that’s it. I’m still tired from my “Fuck You, AH” from yesterday. That shit wore me out.

Alert: My old man just called me, a U.S. veteran savage. Savage. He was slightly freaking out about the AH post, the status of my job, and how this blog will hamper my future abilities to get a job.

To him, I say, “Touche.” However, Fuck a job, fuck all this bullshit. Please. Thank you.


1000, that’s right people. 1000 times, a random person in hyperspace has clicked on this page for some reason. There were probably lots of doubles, triples and quadruples, but that’s ok. Most of you we probably knew face to face, but for those we don’t, trust me, we really are this badass.

I skipped work today on account of deep feelings of dread and death.  I was watching Batman Begins last night, and I was like, fuck this shit, I’m Batman, and I’m not going to work. So I called in.

Here’s to the Batman in all of us.


You, dear readers, deserve the best, and that’s what we are here to give you. I would give you a weekend update, but I don’t want to.

I am working on one huge project and one mini project.

The mini project is an expose into the world of boogers. To pick and flick? Or to reap and eat? The possibilities are endless, and I am one of the world’s most infamous pickers. Many a wall, desk and bedside have been marked by my nasal debris.

The huge project is a story. It is about a man named Geoffrey who is destined to be King, and his brother Thomas. There will be sacred swords, oaths, destinies and princesses abound. Check out Chretien on Wiki, and you might get a sense of where I am going with this.

My fellow bloggers will support my endeavors with their own posts, to keep you coming back for more, while I slave away in the kitchen of seriousness.

Little ham bone, some soup, maybe a carrot….you got yourself a stew going baby!
~ paraphrase by Carl Wuthers