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.
roughty, you ran your ass into a tree while trying to wrangle an errant throw from mr stoney. you went all out — ultimate athleticism. you crashed like evil knevil — faulty. hahaha. even the wanna-be-cool-100-dollar-shirt-wearing-barely-able-to-pay-their-rent-venice-beach fuck-o-ramas couldn’t even bring themselves to laugh at you. if i had a video camera, your ass would be the toast of youtube right now. it would look like this:
“yeah, so what’s your point, butt-face?” well, i’ll tell you. this blog is composed of the faultimate citizens of the world. faultimate = faulty/ultimate. faulty = broken or malfunctioning in some or another wise. ultimate = to the maximum extremity of extremocity; not to be surpassed.
sorry that roughty was my poster-child for this description. but before you dickfaces start thinking that you’re not included, don’t worry. you are. i will, forthwith, mention an individual case of your ultimateness and your faultiness — depicted in convenient bite-size stories. i will, of course, include myself, (so danny boy doesn’t have to cry his way to another blog waling, “man, why does everybody have to be so meeeeaaaaannn to me?!”).
stoney, you ass, you were the hook-up master for a little while. you remember? oh yeah. (sorry t.) freshman year, them girls wanted the junk. all it took was one drop of andy roddick’s name, and they came circling about you like so many earring dangling, flashy belt wearing turkey buzzards. let’s all face it. they wanted your johnson… all over them. that, my friend, is ultimate! however, let us not forget to mention the inauspicious occasions. desparation and milwaukee’s best light led to some funny funny situations. how can we forget the ripped jeans girl?! we can’t. she was a laughingstock even before she came crashing to the floor from falling the fuck off robbie mcketta’s bunk! how about that other girl? … the skinny blonde girl with the really pointy nose… you know who i mean. fucking terrible. she was like greg higgins’ girl-piece tina except without the talent and classic beauty. that, sir, is faulty. again demonstrating that this blog is peopled by the faultimate of society. best game, worst scores, stoney. pat yourself on the back, and then give yourself a swirly, you loser.
dankkkkkkkkk, in lieu of a story, i’ll include an image that should say it all. extremely ultimately fucked the fuck up.
yeah, dankkkkkkkkk. faultimate to deff, yo. some people just go insane, but you went ultimately nutso. i can remember stoney giggling, “yo, dankkkk’s craaaazy.” haha. dank, you’re in. the blog was meant for crazy ass psychos like you. enjoy grad school. don’t worry, though. you already saw the local nut-house, and you’re already on the waiting list, so no worries.
tre — (no longer present but worthy of mentioning) some people just skip work. he went on the missing person’s list for like days and days, and his dad came into pet world crying, asking me, “is my son on drugs?!” tre — faultimate. (what’s the etiquette on shittalking somebody who never reads this anymore? sorry, tre. my bad. not deleting it, though.)
drew — do i even have to start? this guy belonged here from the word “go.” blowing lines like it was going out of style and simultaneously intimidating us to pay him 8o bills for a half-g?! faultimate. you’re in, you big nazi-ass mutherfuck.
twitch, i don’t know you like talking about it, so i cannot declare you faultimate. i will assume, though, that you must be. you were friends with stoney, and that alone qualifies you for faultimate status in my book at least. congratulations. you’re among the best of the worst.
stoney’s little shit for brains brother (haganav) — freshman year… yates… fast forward four years… smoking weed in amsterdam… need i say more? no. i needn’t. we’ll be here to welcome you back with open arms when you get extradited back to the usa. (or would that be intradited?)
and last but not least, suityourself. there are so many examples, i don’t know where to begin. robbing the channannello’s for like 350-400 beezies at age 15, eluding the vbpd, only to get hemmed up by my best friend’s parents and made to wash their shitty-ass cars the next day as pennance. kept the money, though. stealing cigarettes and then having a panic attack (my very first one, the start of a long and illustrious friendship) and thinking my heart was going to explode after my first nicotene buzzzz. hitting some guy in the football game so hard he broke some bone and had to get ambulanced away and then, the next day, passing out from a concussion into my salad bowl at the golden corral. these are just a smattering of my faultimate moments. i think i deserve to be among you guys. you’re not wastes of space. you’re ultimate wastes of space. congratulations. let the fantastically worthless blogistry continue uninteruptus.
keep going big. after all, it’s better to burn out than to fade away…
Thats right folks, the SWS has a new member. As the newest addition I can only hope that my stories don’t suck are as bad (ass) as the rest of these yahoos.
Let’s start off with the hot topic of Religion. Now I don’t want to blow my load all in one place so we’ll start with just one religion, how about Christianity. Christianity is a monotheistic religion centered on the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. Bob Loblaw. There is no god, deal with it.
A lot of Christians wear crosses around their necks. Do you think when Jesus comes back he ever wants to look at a fucking cross? -Bill Hicks
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.
I think sometimes, I might get a little carried away and maybe talk myself up a little too much…
Roughtonius, you are the Master of the Blog.
The top 10 posts on our blog in the last month have pulled in about 6600 individual readers. Roughtonius, you are solely responsible for 5835 of those hits, which is 8 of the top 10.
This means that 88.25% of the people who read this blog’s top 10 posts last month were reading Roughty’s words.
Comcast, in its infinite wisdom, has deemed it necessary to remove HBO from my TV. Ever since The Sopranos series finale, HBO is only offered to those with digital cable. Weak.
However, while I still had HBO I saw previews for their new shows, John from Cincinnati and Flight of the Conchords. Like many people I thought, “Hmm, these can’t be as good as HBO staples like OZ, The Wire, or even The Sopranos.” Thus, I cast them off because I knew I would not be able to view them once Comcast digitally castrated me.
Last month though, a good friend of mine – who has digital cable, and HBO – asked me to come to her place to watch Flight of the Conchords; she thought I would enjoy it. And man, she was right.
Let’s get a little background information on these guys first, before I detail the show. Flight of the Conchords is the name of a folk comedy duo (Bret McKenzie and Jemaine Clement) from New Zealand. What’s folk comedy you ask? It is picking up an acoustic guitar and singing comedic songs, or having comedic banter while picking. Think of Dmetri Martin when he abandons the oversized pad, and picks up his guitar. Flight of the Conchords was a huge hit in international comedy festivals, and had their own BBC 2 radio show, that served as the precursor to the HBO show. They have been around.
The premise of their HBO show is, their band has come to New York to make it big. However, they struggle to get gigs, are constantly stymied by an inept (but hilarious) band manager, and try to cope with New Yorkers who think they’re British. Sounds like a pretty generic premise. Well, it is. Yet, it is pulled of with brilliant British-style comedy, and they incorporate their comedic folk act into the show. That’s right, they break out into song, rap, reggae, etc multiple times each show, leaving the supporting cast of characters dumbfounded. This show is also great because they don’t film in any studios, everything is filmed in New York city.
I have been warned by Stoney not to put up too many videos because he is worried it will increase page load time, thusly losing a lot of our readers. What a Negative Nancy. Please Stoney, I wrote the Pegasus post, I get some leeway bitch. Let’s start with some of their comedic folk act, shall we? Let’s, because it’s business time.
It is songs like that that they incorporate into their episodes. Don’t like it? Then you should abandon this post because there is more to come. Stoney has written some bullshit on NASA, why don’t you check that out.
The Conchords are not limited to folk music, they can “hip up” their act with some rap stylings. I love the way they bring their songs to life in their show.
Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymnocerous
They also use some outdated special effects and song genres, which leads to more hilarity.
Are you into it?
The Conchords are also very deep, using metaphors for such complex things as love.
Well I will tried to adhere to Stoney’s warning about too many videos…..pffft whatever. Knowing him, most of these videos will be deleted by the end of the day because he is a prick. However, I will leave you with probably my favorite on stage song the Conchords perform. It is like trying to choose my favorite beer, they’re all delicious and fuck me up. Except, “you know who”.
You should feel priveledged to view this song because it was not intended for humans.
The Conchords used this song as the closing credits to one of their episodes. If you would like to see how stand up transfers to TV, check it out. They changed it a little, but the point still gets across. The humans are dead, they used poisonous gasses to poison their asses, and BINARY SOLOS ABOUND!
Hopefully you will get to see all these videos before Stoney chops them. I love Flight of the Conchords, you should too. They have been picked up already for a second season after they have hit it big, which is a lot more than I can say for John from Cincinnati, Suit.
Well, last night snapped the Mets’ four-game winning streak as they lost to the Dodgers, 6-2. Furthermore, as this was a nationally televised game, the sting was that much more biting. It’s baseball though, one out of 162 games, no big deal right? Yeah, in some respects, I suppose.
Yet, as a die hard Mets fan each loss tortures me a little. I had just enough booze in my system, and the right mixture of douchebags in the vicinity to morph from my mild-mannered alter ego, into “Roughty”. “Roughty” will embarass you in front of your girlfriend by ripping your popped collar, yanking out your gelled hair, peeing in your daquiri, then taking her home. It’s been done before.
“Roughty” was always the person who was arrested all those times, and lately I have been able to control his presence because I don’t want to go to a Richmond jail a lot more than I like your girlfriend at closing time. So naturally, I kept him at bay, had a shot, paid my tab, and walked home; all the while cursing under my breath the verbal beratement I was sure to receive from Stoney becuase of his fickle and convenient love of the Dodgers.
But one Queens resident takes Mets losses to heart. Read. That is right. The title is, “Losin’ Mets made me kill my mom”.
“Michael Anthony, 26, was frustrated with the Mets’ 6-5 loss to the Washington Nationals in the second game of Saturday night’s doubleheader when he started arguing with his father, according to a statement he gave police.”
(File photo of a Mets fan getting ready for a little, ultraviolence)
Ok, I can understand his anger. I mean, who doesn’t get pissed when their team loses to the Nationals. They are even worse than the Expos were. While the Anthony household sounds like a replica of Mayberry, I would venture to guess that Michael and his old man were boozing quite heavily.
“We started fighting and my mother jumped in,” he said, adding that she took a knife from the kitchen of the Fresh Meadows home. “I took the knife from her and it got stuck in her head.”
Once again, seems reasonable. The Mets just lost to a garbage team, the old man is on his case, and now mom comes leaping in with a goddamn butcher knife. In my experience, there is no family disagreement that cannot be resolved by brandishing a weapon. Unfortunately, mom had to ruin the fun and put her head in the way of Michael’s stabbing motion.
“Fischman then fled to the bedroom, where Anthony said he thought she was going for a weapon in a dresser drawer. “I grabbed a weight from the top of the dresser, swung it, hit her and she fell to the floor,” Anthony said.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. The bitch ran into the bedroom after getting a knife stuck in her head? I know the mothers of Mets fans are known for spewing out superior sons – Spartan mothers come to mind here – but, holy shit. If I get a knife stuck in my head, I’m cashing in my chips and waiting for my direct flight to Hell. I will lose the will to fight. But not this woman. Unfortunately, her mad dash alarmed her son, who then clobbered the woman (with a knife stuck in her head mind you) to death with his heaviest barbel.
Now, this barbel could not have been more than 5 pounds. He must not be doing any serious lifting if he feels threatened by his elderly mother, who again, has a fucking knife stuck in her head. I am a huge Mets fan, but this Michael Anthony is my new hero. (Bonus points for having two first names). My only wish is that the AP does a follow up in depth look at how Michael reacts to a Mets loss while watching it at Rikers Island. I smell a Pulitzer.
METS UPDATE / BRAVES DEMISE
NL East standings as of 8/27/07
NY Mets (73-56): 1st place
Philadelphia Phillies (67-62): 6 games behind
Atlanta Braves (67-64): 7 games behind
THE BRAVES ARE TOAST.
CHIPPER JONES UPDATE:
Hey Suit, you know how you love that ass grabbing jerk-off, Chipper Jones so much? Well guess what he named his son? Shea. That’s right, Shea. As in Shea Stadium, home of the Mets. Seems like he wishes he was playing somewhere else. But fuck him, we don’t want his bullshit.
This would have to be the funniest thing I have seen today, maybe even this week. If you go out in public, you most likely have seen what I saw today.
Bravo to the father who came into the restaurant with his little hellian tethered. People let their kids get away with tons of shit, I see it every day. Their deplorable motor skills create messes that I have to clean up, they whine and cry about every minor inconvenience, and their bodies are fluid factories that churn out their product at a rate any respectable company would be in awe of.
Enough of the free pass, brats. These kids have the world at their fingertips because people excuse their mongoloid manners just because they are young. That’s bullshit. Parents shouldn’t have to purchase these leashes or harnesses, they should be paid as an incentive to use them. Slap a few company logos on the leash, or maybe, tattoo, “Pepsi” on your child’s head, just to make a buck and show the kid who is boss.
If your kid starts acting up in public, just give little Billy a swift pull back, not enough to maim him, but enough to get it through his soft skull that that shit will not be tolerated. Personally, I am partial to the retractable leashes. If you are going to discipline your child, why not have fun with it? Let them think they have some tether to work with then, BAM! Lesson learned. Now all we need is a muzzle accessory, and we can keep these monsters at bay.
Give it a second to get through the initial credits.
I’ve loved Devin the Dude since III Dog introduced me to him in 2001. After playing his latest album for Suit during our LA trip, he is now a full believer. Suit needs, “da BOOM”.
Devin is not your usual rapper. He doesn’t bullshit about tearing up clubs, ice/bling, or Escalades. Devin’s lyrics are comprised of “The 3 Bs”.
Bitches
Blunts
Budweiser
…or the 3 Ws, if you like…
Women
Weed
Wine
There is a lot of humor in Devin’s lyrics, coupled with lots of coughing, and beer drinking. Now how can I not love that?
Favorite Devin song: Zeldar. Zeldar is the tale of an intergalactic traveller who is at the Show&Tell convention on Mars. Zeldar had recently crash landed on earth, in a field of green leafy trees. So, he cut them, rolled them, smoked them, and guess how he felt……? very good. He took some on his spaceship, and now he is regaling his adventure with the intergalactic Show&Tell convention. I unfortunately cannot find this song.
Stoney’s Favorite Devin: Doobie Ashtray
Suit’s Favorite Devin: “da BOOM” prank phone call
Devin is from Houston, and has become quite proficient at imitating rednecks. His redneck persona is incorporated into a few of his songs, as well as this prank call.
Dank’s Favorite Devin: None. Dank is a Devin hater. He will come around someday.
Vick better hope Ren doesn’t get a crack at him, that motherfucker is crazy. Not Dank crazy, but just as liable to fuck you up.
Well, the latest celebrity to blindly defend Michael Vick and his douchbaggery is the knucklehead Jaime Foxx. You can read his interview here.
Let’s review an excerpt:
“It’s a cultural thing, I think,” Jamie said. “Most brothers didn’t know that, you know. I used to see dogs fighting in the neighborhood all the time. I didn’t know that was Fed time. So, mike probably just didn’t read his handbook on what not to do as a black star.”
Sure, let’s give Vick a break, he is the true victim here. He was probably just unaware he faced “Fed” time for fighting and killing dogs. Now that I think of it, people usually do things they don’t think are illegal in hidden, dark, windowless places. Furthermore, digging graves to hide evidence shows me Vick and his hobbyists possess the clearest consciences in the tri-state area.
I think Jaime also let a secret slip to white America. Maybe I am in the dark here, but I had no idea a, “handbook on what not to do as a black star” existed. No-nos would most likely include, making it rain, firing your gun into the air outside a club, or masturbating to a porn DVD while driving your Escalade.
“I know that cruelty to animals is bad, but sometimes people shoot people and kill people and don’t get time,” Jamie continued. “I think in this situation, he really didn’t know the extent of it, so I always give him the benefit of the doubt.”
That makes sense. He’s young, rich, and can run fast, we should give him a pass. Because we all know he can’t pass. Ka-zing! The nation, according to these celebrity Vick supporters, is unfairly attacking Vick. Well I’m sorry. Sorry to hold him to the laws real citizens have to live by. I’m tired of this bullshit with celebrities getting off, or doing 1-2 days in jail.
See also:
But then again, what do I know? I’m broke, never been on TV, and I don’t have boobs. Let’s listen to all these celebrities, sure I can trust them. As a matter of fact, I recall I voted for George Clooney for president in 04. People just were not ready in 04, maybe 08.
Thats right folks, the SWS has a new member. As the newest addition I can only hope that my stories 
Stoney Wage Slave 