Archive for the 'mets are embarssing' Category

A Great Awakening: The Blog Revival

Well, my plan worked.  Everyone is gone and there is nobody to read/write entries.  All mine!  mwhaahaahaa.  Anyway, it’s been awhile and I just wanted to start off by telling everyone that they are gay. 

 For news, well, I ran into a long lost brother: III dog.  I was standing outside of an academic building dreading the fact that I had to go to class and up walks the one the only.  But, does everyone know that grad school is for fags?  This shit blows and if you ever feel any inclination to lead a more fulfilling life and escape your wage slavery–don’t.  Yes, that’s right.  You have an eyewitness that is telling you.  Live an unfulfilling, selfish life.  Work, put in your eight hours, go home, and forget about what hell you just went through.  The beauty of work is that you can leave it at the office if you want.  Grad school is gay.  I’ve actually decided to do my reading for once and now all I do is fucking read.  Read, Read, REad.  And, some may say,  “well, that guy is lucky.  He is enlightening his brain and reading interesting stuff.”  Well, if you think that is the case you are sorely mistaken.  Nothing is interesting in my course of study.  I mean, does anyone find gender roles in Antebellum (pre-war) America interesting?  No, only man-hating lezzies.  Well, I guess I miss not reading cool stuff and listening to people talk about it. 

On another note, all the nay-sayer can eat a big fat because the Giants won the Super Bowl.  Yep, that’s right, Giants.  As for shit-talk for upcoming events, Red Sox are looking to defend their championship.  Unfortunately, I’ll be stuck watching the National League suck the big one. 

Anyway, I’ve got to go eat dinner at 7 -11.  Ahh, the good life. 

 Also, stoney, suit, roughty, and twitch are gay. 

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Champions

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peezy is gay and as usual wrong in his predictions.   i expect him to be donning a red sox hat in the coming months.  no, do not listen to his wiley scheme of falsity.  if he is ever seen wearing a red sox cap, which he might only do in private, he will surely make an excuse of some ridiculous nature, claiming to welcome sox fan into his clutches so he can rip on them.  anyone aware of stoney’s track record will no doubt agree that the incredible urge is rising in him to now turn and root for the champions.  that’s right–champions.  again.  for all the shit talkers on this blog and foolish sports ‘pundits’, i would just like to say that yes, you were wrong, you knew nothing about baseball, and are too gay to celebrate such an achievement in the shadow of such pathetic defeat by your respective ball handlers. 

The Red Sox are the champions and will be until April when they begin another championship run.  Denying their championshipnocity is a futile fool’s effort sure to be joined by this blog’s numerous fools. 

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shhh, don’t cry.

Happy Birthday Roughty

a little waste of time…i’m sure your ending would be a little different to the night, but not by much.

Bitches…Based Upon a True Story

You are all a bunch of bitches. ‘boo hoo, i hold down the blog all on my own–sniffle, sniffle, nobody helps me out’. Now, no one is producing shit except for twitch’s brainless miney mo of football picks. the grand introduction you were afforded was quite undue. Stoney was apparently wrong in his fear of unleashing the savage that must have been. I was expecting more ridiculous puttering buttholes and second grade male teacher fantasies, but i guess the life of a savage cannot include the blog, though true savagery also does not recognize the 70 down genital coddling that is football. Yes, i love football and sports, and many unsavage things, but i do not and have never claimed to be a savage. Far from it, i am more a pinkie flipped, tea drinking, legs crossing, former weed smoker who has done everything in his power to reject savage lawless behavior for the groovy rewarding of responsibility (sarcasm).

twitch, i’m sorry for the blatant attack, but your work is limited to picking, often accurately, the upcoming weekend’s games. you offer no commentary and hardly any shittalking. i was expecting you to be ripping and stoney claimed to be anxiously anticipating the coming shittalking brought with football.

stoney, you’re gay. bucs suck, ‘your’ steelers are winning, and i can undoubtedly bet my entire net worth of -200 dollars that you have yet to watch a single play. well, maybe if i lose then me paying negative 200 dollars would actually mean i get paid 200 dollars!?! shit, why didn’t i think about that before? i think i might have a good case for wachode and chase you down a dark alley and beat you with a proverbial debt bat credit cards.

suit, simply said, thanks for the sushi dinner and getting me into academia where i certainly do not belong.

on to me, i still can’t make any money with no bills to pay and working all the time. i’m a piece of shit who fights with his girlfriend all the time and watches sports rather than do anything else. i literally have to think about, no, draw up a spreadsheet of pros and cons whether to buy an iced tea for my smoldering ashtray asshole mouth. on a lighter note, i am happy to inform you all that i have been successfully mining green gold from the deepest caverns of the Upper Dank Nasal River, wiping them on and flicking them toward all unsuspecting victims. Be careful where you reach or grap for balance when leaning to pick up that damn elusive runaway pencil. there may be a boogie man lurking in the shadows–one of my minions of ectoslime.

roughty, well you a bitch ass nancy who can’t handle liquor. i guess this is as good a time as any to relate my recent visit to the confederate capitol in which nancy reagan, roughty-as he is first lady, resides. I arrived in his spacious 13 bedroom apartment to remember the all to familiar later 1420 A smell. yes, quite noxious. however, if you have not been depraved enough to cross the river of burnt matchsticks, pay the toll man, Mikey, and sneak past the snarling starving beasts willing to tear your flesh for its first meal since a woman had visited (rarely and never prolonged), to find the beasts’ litter box, then you can hardly imagine roughty’s. overflowing like a bloated pot of chili, the smell sticks to your skin and dampens your hair and cannot be removed by the sticky shower and mildewed-bottom of the pile towel you will be lent. after given the grand tour of his apartment modeled after a bunker in Fallujah and seriously debating wearing my flip flops in the shower, I air-dried for fear of putting the towel on my head, and then roughty and i set out to watch the mets inevitably blow it and hopefully find college football game on a nearby tv at the bar.

as everyone know the mets blew it, but not without a shimmer of hope for those unfortunate enough to confuse the ny mets for the recently swept phillies with a 13-1 shallacking on that day. well, we sat and drank beer and i ate a hockey puck with bacon and cheese, roughty in nothing out of the ordinary, drinking 1-2 more beers at the bar. This will come in to play soon, but everyone should know that roughty drinking 1-2 more beers with his typical diet versus mine would be no excuse for the ultimate shamery to come. we split the tab and went down stairs where i decisively defeated roughty in the first victory of the night-ping pong. when exiting the bar i wisely asked roughty if he had paid the second tab as he had lost the wager, moronically trusting the word of a drunken irishman. he walked out on that one and we moved to his sister’s boyfriend’s house where he exploded the tonic everywhere and left the floor adhesive. roughty made the drinks, one per person, and after thoroughly wearing out our welcome, we proceeded to dinner. both of us sitting slumped waiting for our respective lasagna and sub, i began to feel the stupor of Diana and Bacchus’s love union and looked across the table at the waning, leaning tower of a slurring man. Immediately upon finishing Roughty stood up and implored me to “get out of here” claiming we were done. Being the naive sentimentalist, I asked, ‘don’t we have to wait for the waitress? No? We can pay up front?’ this was the second, but failed attempt to walk out on a tab. He ended up begrudgingly paying the unfair tarif for both of us, saying, “you ive me sa money layter” i forgot.

well, we walked the few blocks home sandwich in tow knowing the state of affairs of any autonomous stonies’ kitchen. We arrived home and shortly after, i snapped this picture:

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**will not upload-does not meet security guidelines**

i guess the material is too sensitive. a picture of roughty passed out at 8:30 p.m. would surely explode the head of any with knowledge of him.

so, he passed out and was eventually roused with threats of exposing his nanciness. in another failure of the night, roughty,quite out of character,did not shag the fly puerto rican girl that wanted his nutsack. instead, quite in character, he was content to be defeated in video games while she watched.

1st Victory- Ping Pong

2nd Victory- Drinking

3rd Victory- Madden (Roughty quit before half, I forced him to finish the half at least)

4th Victory- MVP 2005 (Red Sox defeat Mets at Shea-3-1. Big Papi eventual game winning homer in top 8th. )

5th Victory- Madden (again)

Roughty would only chalk his days losses to 0-4, but i assure you he was spent on drinking as i mixed up another gin. The next day i awoke to roughty going to work where i was going for a stoney style free brunch (remember the trellis? sweet) when my lady cracked the whip and was bitching, so i had to go home.

It was a very enjoyable trip. I only shit talk now because i have the god given right to make my friends feel bad for putting me up and paying for a dinner he wanted to walk out on. i only got slapped in the face once, which by anyone’s standards is another victory. i had a good time and a lesson in hopeless savagery. Now it’s time to get in my mom’s car and go eat McDonald’s and relay my exact gps coordinates to the wife.

signing off:

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