This is my roommate and his boyfriend.
Shedding pseudo-light on non issues…
This is my roommate and his boyfriend.
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:
**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.
Fear not ye who stare in dumbblankfacerificatio. This blasphemous affront from he with the royal nose and created royal lineage will be met with brutally harsh impunity. He will be crushed with my iron gauntlet as I mold his flacid will like a piece of wet clay.
The King’s claim to royal lineage is false and ridiculous. My children, King Stoney was once a young grasshopper in my School of Debaucherous Edification. This State sponsored program reluctantly admitted the Prince to imbue the naive Prince with the necessary rejection of extravagant material objects and extravagant g.p.a.’s . What the young Prince did not realize is that this propagandalistic program of debaucherous inundation and and murdering of reason was to weaken the privileged for our worker’s revolution. My arduous work of the last few months, day in and out, working into the wee hours of the night, was for the building of my barnesian army.
I am a man of the people. My father, a poor dirt farmer who struck oil through his rural education, rose through the ranks of the privileged like the early Blogres lineage that King Stoney claims. Abandoning me in his quest for the tainted coin, I was raised in the hardened industrial center of our land. I am a worker that will crush the priviliged and distribute their wealth to the people. Rise against your attacking tyrannical despot who rules with wild passion and uncontrolled partiality. Join the ranks of the industrialized worker. Sign up at your local Volkswagen dealer.
In my brilliant plan of genius, I paved the way to revolution through my puppet P.M. Sunburner. He is a weak man of the senses swayed toward the passion. He is a weakened by his addiction to the witch’s brew squeezed of the rotten teat. His ludicrous claim of peak conditioning and corpus care are being revealed by the pictures provided by Morel the Destoryer, a man of truth.
Taken after his royal decree last night
Suppressing the Truth
Destroyed by his Extravagance–Poisoned by Morel the Truthsayer
Let this be a lesson to all who oppose the strengthening of the Bloggerland. Sunburner is an example of any who stand in the way of our glorious revolution of the people. Treacherous lechery will be Punished!
In a predictable unexpected turn of events, P.M. Sunburner has disposed of his newly befriended assassin. In his ruthless ruthnicity, the P.M. beguiled the attacker into a partnership of death. No, not the scythe to his iron hand, the attacker became the victim of his glorious impunity. The colossal hand that now makes Blogres strong and empowered to meet the agression of any would-be agressors has come down on any who oppose it.
It seems that shortly after the Toast of Sunburnable Brotherhood the P.M. threw the attacker off of the Royal Balcony where he plummeted to the marble floor, falling to his death. The P.M.’s delight in destroying all those who oppose the Bloggerland will assure the people of his pledge to protect the people from the royal despotism with brutal force. “I will destroy all those who oppose my shepherding of the followers of the Book of Savagery”, said the P.M., “But, I will usher in a newer, stronger Iron-age in which our land is impervious to the flacid assaults of limp troglodytes.”
The P.M.’s promise of a stronger land rising from the ashes of the former King’s debaucherous disregard for public affairs was compounded by a State exposition of strength, physical prowess, and the P.M.’s superior body type. “Not only through genes, but arduously hard repetition, can you too approach my chiseled greatness. I take care of my body, I am believe in preserving the sanctimonious temple which is the human body. I am outlawing all manufacturing, sale, distribution, consumption, and even speaking of substances harmful to the realization of your goal to approach the human specimen that is me. Any caught consuming drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, or polska kielbasa will immediately be executed. Do not fear my children–I will liquidate the threats to our ever-lasting security. Everything Must Go!”
–Morel the Destoyer–
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The drama of the foreign invasion has escalated in the last few hours as P.M. Leopold Sunburner was attacked by a would-be assasin while giving his second decree.
The identity of the attacker has been revealed. In a tribute to the long forgotten fighter of injustice, El Kabong, the defiler of the sanctity of the sanctimonious new P.M., was stopped not by security, but the iron hand of Sunburner.
His foiling of the attempt was not accompanied with a bum rush of security or the summary execution as expected, but a peace offering. It seems the P.M. recognizes the assailant as the now dishonored and disgraced former American presidential candidate. Aligned closely in their political persuasion, they ironically have become great friends and confidants. A proposed consulship and extermination of the exiled King is rumored to have and still be considered.
We, the Royal Press, will continue to bring you the continued late breaking newsworthy news. Heil Sunburner.
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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–
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Pickers of the Tree of Knowledge, (censored by the Committee to Kill the Human Spirit):