New Year's in Park Slope 2005
- I'm gonna throw an awesome block party in my apartment tonight to ring in 2005! Anyone want to come? I'm fairly certain I'm stocked up on provisions. But just in case, if you'd like to join me in my studio for this exceptionally blogworthy affair, you should bring a case of beer, sacks of ice, two jugs of Korbel Brut, a half dozen hot sluts, a 5 liter foil bladder of white zin, a plunger, confetti, some party friendly grindcore or thrash metal, Black & Milds, a television, Anderson Cooper, and a wavitrol cap.
Let me know what time you're coming so I'll be awake.
Terribly UnFun Facts: Another Year down the Pooper
- --Dick Clark will have to endure the misery of his Rockin’ New Years Eve show by watching it on TV just like everyone else. Bummer…
--In about 5 billion years the sun is going to get so big that it will engulf everything on earth with flames and eventually consume it. Humanity’s only hope to save the planet will rely on us managing to pull an Earth sized meteor into Mars’ gravitational field so that we could slingshot our way further into space. What a drag…
--Don’t ask me how I deduced it, but I’m pretty sure I’m actually 3785 years old if I combine the Hebrew and Gregorian calendars. This news is depressing…
--The recent tsunami messed with the Earth’s rotation so much, we’ve lost 3 millionths of a second from our 24 hour day. We’re going to have to compensate with a leap day every 28.8 billion days—someone better make a post-it note about this one. Ugh…
--In 1 day, I’ll be so drunk, I’ll forget how to control my bodily functions. Why do we go on living?...
--In fifty years Ashlee Simpson will be remembered for her acid reflux induced Irish jig on national television. Meanwhile the history books will completely gloss over you. I’m going back to bed…
From the Webmaster - Site Redecorating
- Earthshattering template changes are looming. Some new colors used will be mildly vibrant. Others may be impossibly dull. Fresh links will be added and stale ones that no longer amuse me will be stricken from the page FOREVER. Any suggestions before the bronze is cast?
Out with the old, in with the totally IN.
1 Down, 4 to Go!
- Remember this post about 5 jerks who should drop dead?
Top Five Assholes who Should take a Clue from Arafat and Drop Dead
Well, it seems one of them has taken my advice. No joke.
Yahoo News Story Regarding one of those people listed
The slums of Columbus, Ohio will miss you dearly.
You Call these Christmas Presents??
Snuggle fabric softener is not a christmas present Mom! Neither is a half used tube of antibiotic ointment that I “can just keep.”
Where’s my presents?! I like to think of myself as a Christmas kind of dude. I generally love receiving all kinds of Christmas presents—but not crappy ones! This is the second year in a row I received a Crocodile Mile. Where am I supposed to slide around at? Down the stairs of my brownstone? And how am I supposed to operate this piece of tarp without a garden hose or a chest protector?
Sarcastic thank you very much to Aunt Blair who bought me the Pizzazz frozen pizza rehydrator. She said, “I know how New Yorkers love pizza!” and then handed it to me without a hint of shame or guilt. How dare you.
Little 5 year old Cousin Natalie made me a macaroni necklace. How do I eat this without a packet of powdered cheese product? What a stupid and thoughtless gift!
Don’t people get 6 megapixel digital cameras and Xboxes and used Chrysler LeBarons for Christmas? The only other “gifts” I got were a shirt with a horizontal stripe, a Hulk Hogan Thunder Mixer, and a toothbrush in a baggie. I know it came free with the toothpaste Dad! Dick.
Where’s my LeBaron??
winneroftheSAT's 2004 Christmas Card Bulletin
- Hey there friends and relatives! 2004 has been quite a year for me.
From January through most of October, I was unemployed! In order to pay for food and rent, I had to turn tricks outside the YMCA Community House. It's not as bad as it sounds, you make your own hours, you're your own boss, and sometimes clients would lend you their AARP cards to take advantage of some of the great deals at participating vendors. My best night in terms of net gains, including the value of the two Big Buford sandwiches purchased for me minus the loss of dignity, came out to about 46 dollars!
In March, I took a long needed vacation. I packed a suitcase and took the subway all the way to The Bronx. I saw lots of amazing things! (The One Hour Photo people at Rite Aid were probably cursing me for dumping all those rolls of film on their counter.) The gang violence in The Bronx is so different from the kind here in Park Slope. I was also shocked by the number of crimes I saw committed with firearms. Oh, I got a chance to test out my Spanish too. This phrase came in very useful: “Hola, como esta usted? Donde esta la salida?” It’s good to experience new cultures--keeps you grounded. After about 3 hours, I hopped back on the MTA and went home.
It was sometime in May that I began taking hardcore Muy Thai kickboxing classes at a school around the block. Man, one day I forgot to bring shinguards and a helmet. That was a mistake! My shins were snapped in half after two horrifyingly painful blows and I got elbowed so many times in the head the doctors gave up counting how many concussions I received. i've since lost interest in the sport.
In July, I started a blog! I wrote a riveting piece about Coke C2 for my friend Todd’s website. He said, "This is great Nate! Yes! I really feel this article will connect with my readers and bring in higher ad revenues. I’m going to place it right here in my circular filing cabinet. Okay! Ready to file!" *crumple crumple crumple* "Hey why don’t you start a blog?" The rest is history.
Oh, in August, I got a new roommate. She's okay, her name is Debbie. She's still in the hospital, I think. Her cat, Oasis, sucked. And no Mom, Debbie's not my girlfriend! Jeez! Quit hounding me.
In October, I finally landed a job. About time, huh? You'd think someone who wins the SAT could get a job a little bit easier. For friends or relatives out there thinking college is your express ticket to starting a great and satisfying career, you should really consider dropping out while you still have your youth and then kill yourself once you turn 23.
Okay everybody! Have a safe and Merry Christmas!
First Day at the New Job - Part 3
- "What floor appeals to you... Miss?" Sebastian squealed. I could feel his eyes focusing on my large red debutante hat.
I am stuck in an elevator with the two turds I hoped I wouldn't run into. My plan was to sneak into work late and just sort of pretend to have been there all day. If they realize it’s me kneeling to tie and retie my shoes down here, I'm in for quite a tongue lashing.
So, I clear my throat, adjust my Adam's apple, and let out two deep coughs. In a cracking falsetto like Prince in anything from Purple Rain, I say, "Oh. 32. I want to stop at the 32nd floor, kind man. You're such a dear if you push that button for me." DAMN, it smells really gamey at this level--adjacent from Bobo Bridges' crotch.
Sebastian presses the buttons and blathers to Bobo, "So, I heard these sandwiches from The Incredibly Bland Sandwich & Tepid Soup Company are blander than anything anyone has ever tasted. I think they got straight 15s in the Zagat Survey. That is something I've just gotta try!"
"Mmmmmmyesss. I partook in the iceberg lettuce and shredded carrot double decker the other day. It was delightful! I don't like it when tastiness takes over a sandwich."
"Me neither. What about the soup?"
"Oh, the temperature is lukewarm in the most succinct way! Mmmmmm."
Bobo added, “Hey, Sebastian, did Nate, the new hire, ever show up? He was supposed to be here at 9:30."
"I haven't seen him yet, sir."
"That's odd, he seemed so committed at the interview. If he doesn’t have the drive to be the 2nd Assistant to the Vice President of Consumer Affairs’ Assistant, there are probably a half dozen other dynamic people in this city who’d leap at the chance. He is easily replaceable.”
"That he is, sir."
"I could replace him with a broom handle probably."
"Excuse me," I interrupt, "he must have some worth," I say in my squeaky female impersonator voice while continuing to fidget with my shoes.
Sebastian fields this one, "No. If you saw him, you'd know that he's a preposterous boob. You would also want this boob killed because The Council needs him alive for the information he has contained in his pea sized brain. If I could assassinate him or hold him hostage, I would have the leverage to finally exact revenge on the group that left me behind on a mission."
"TMI, Sebastian! T-M-I!" Bobo announces jovially, "Here's our floor!"
To Be Continued!
First Day at the New Job - Part 2
- I was running about 4 hours late for my first day of work because of the incident at The Old Carriage Inn. You may recall I was a bit carefree with my prep time when I went to interview for this job and I was forced to explain my tardiness by pretending I was brutally stabbed in the face. I couldn’t use the same line again, people might start to think my value as an employee carries little worth.
Figuring I would cause too much of a stir if I slink in without some sort of camouflage, I rummage through my roommate Debbie’s closet and find a large brimmed red hat--exactly like the kind made infamous by Carmen Sandiego and old bags in the South. Perfect!
I make it to the Downtown Burning Bridges building located adjacent from the former Trade Center Site within about 25 minutes. I trot past the robust bronzes of Bobo Bridges adorning the lobby and slither towards the elevator banks and tap the up button over and over. Ding. I step inside and pray for the door to close.
C’mon Satan, close, close, close, close, close…
Suddenly, an atrophied and liver spotted hand juts into the elevator car and thrashes the air like an arm in a zombie movie. “Mmmmmheyyy! Could you hold the elevator please?” And then another black gloved hand bursts in the narrowing crevice and its shrill voice wails, “Please stop the elevator from going up!!”
I slammed on the Close button but it was futile. The doors bumped their hands and lazily opened wide.
It was Bobo Bridges, my boss, AND Sebastian Tolliver, a nutjob who is stalking me. They were carrying to-go bags from The Incredibly Bland Sandwich & Tepid Soup Company.
“Oh no!” I gasp--hopefully inaudibly--and I duck down, pretending to tie my shoes.
Are You on the wotSAT Christmas Card List?
- I've been meaning to tell you some thrilling news! I stole about a dozen blank Burning Bridges Christmas cards from the factory. Since now is the season for giving, I thought that if any of you living in the continental U.S. would like a personalized Burning Bridges for the holidays, forward me your address at email@example.com. I'll come up with some reasons why I hate you--or even better, you can tell me why I should hate you (e.g. you're ugly)--and then I'll have Santa stuff it in your chimney.
Quantities are limited! Let me know before 5PM Tomorrow!!
There's a Hot New Restaurant Coming to Midtown
- The Incredibly Bland Sandwich & Tepid Soup Company is in negotiations to open its very first New York restaurant right in the heart of Midtown, Manhattan. An article in The Times said they’re looking for a prime Rockefeller Center area location situated next to a dime-a-dozen pizza counter and an authentic Mexican restaurant owned by Chinese people. No one is more thrilled than I to hear this awesome news.
CEOs at Hale & Hearty Soups and Pret a Manger are rethinking their mission statements and drawing up defensive battle plans at this very moment. One counter spokesperson at Cosi spoke with me on the condition of anonymity that the workers at her store are very upset at the prospect of increased competition in this lucrative terribly lame sandwich and grossly underwhelming soup market, some have made vows on their stained smocks to offer higher standards of customer service to sway consumer loyalty while other coworkers have decided to just up and quit. You have nothing to worry about Lucinda Arroyo-Sanders, there’s no chance this amazing new jewel of a restaurant will put you out of a job.
Or will it? The Incredibly Bland Sandwich et. al Company is going to offer poorly designed sandwiches on 7 grain bread and sub-grocery store brand condensed soups at prices Midtowners love swallowing. Look here: 2 Tablespoons of any soup and a ¼ of an understuffed sandwich – 8.95! Supersize it for 5 Tablespoons of any soup, a quarter of a sandwich and A PICKLE for 12.95. Maybe Lucinda better sign up with a temp agency just in case.
Set to open sometime in 2005, The Incredibly Bland Sandwich & Tepid Soup Company is predicting lines about a mile long at the grand opening.
Say Something Nice to... Viktor Yuschenko!
It's been a bad couple months for Viktor Yuschenko with the fraudulent Ukrainian election and the horrifying near fatal poisoning and whatnot. You all know this site ain't about kicking people when they're down--it's about lending a limp hand to help them up. Let's see if we could say some nice things to Mr. Yuschenko to support him with his current problems.
--I don't think all Ukrainians want you dead. Just a handful.
--I may not be a skin therapist, but I'm pretty sure a couple dabs of Clearasil will really work wonders.
--You've taught us all that when we order soup, we should request that it be brought to 165 degrees in order to kill off salmonella. What's that? You got food poisoning from dioxins? What the heck are those?!
--It has been reported you have the 2nd highest level of dioxin poisoning ever recorded in a human being. With a little more training you can finally get your name in the Guinness Book of World Records and ditch that lame plate spinning act!
--Whenever Britney Spears' Toxic comes on at the dance club, I will keep you in my thoughts for those 3 minutes while I grind and swing.
--Be grateful you're not living in oppressive, beauty obsessed America. I walk around here with an oozing fever blister on my lip and people look at me like I got contagious herpes!
--Should the 80's television series "V" ever come back on the air and casting begins... do I need to finish this one?
--At least your country's Supreme Court frowns upon stolen elections!
--Chloracne is way better than buttcrackne.
Say something nice!
First Day at the New Job - Part 1
- I thought that since today is my first day at the Burning Bridges Greeting Card Company, I would celebrate yesterday the end to the baluga sized employment gap on my résumé with a drink.
So, I went by myself to a local Park Slope bar I've never been to before that looks like a life eroding denizen of pestilence on the outside, yet extremely charming on the inside called The Old Carriage Inn. It was so ironic there! Everyone was wearing New York Jets jerseys, chugging Schlitz out of party boners, and clapping at TV screens playing football. Hilarious! This must be what’s totally IN right now, I thought.
While I was sipping on a Belvedere and sifting through the short fiction section of The New Yorker, the bleeding edge hipster patrons in Zoobas would intermittently slap me on the back whenever events transpired on the monitors.
“Put that homo trash down and watch the game! Tennessee is gonna get whomped. Oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man! Whoo!!!”
I averted my eyes from a cartoon I was on the cusp of understanding and sighed loudly to the shit-stain looking, moustached, indie rocker dressed ironically like a gluttonous slob, “Oh, all right,” and I peered at the screen skeptically, studying others in the room for the precise moment to revel during the broadcast.
At first, whenever the ball would go into the air, I would get so pretend excited I’d throw my arms up and interject gaily, “Yeah!! Sports!!!”
“Would you like another Belvedere?” The bartender came by.
“Fill me up!”
Soon enough, I was coming up with new witticisms like “That guy with the ball really succeeded just there!” after a well done offensive drive or "A Nickel defense? You'd think with those salaries they pay those millionaires out there that they could afford a Dime!"
“Another Belvedere, sir?”
“Yeah, no wait, I’m having a good time…plus I'm celebrating my new job I start in the morning. I think I’ll switch to a double 151 on the rocks. And keep 'em coming!”
I was feeling so of the moment--it was electric to take part in this hip new NYC trend that no doubt will hit the Midwest in 3-5 years.
And then I started feeling some other things. Most exclusively, I was getting the feeling you get when your brain is drowning in a shallow bathtub of alcohol and instead of just going home to bed, you decide to have another drink and threaten to kick everyone at the bar in their stupid comfortable pants, and you throw your 151 in the face of the bartender accusing her of conspiring to disenfranchise black voters, and then people start breaking bottles actin' like they're about to cut you, and finally a gaggle of sweatsuit loving hipsters you thought were your friends manhandle you out the door.
Anyways, to make a long story short, I have the hangover from Hell and it's already about 1 in the afternoon, and I was supposed to be at The Burning Bridges Greeting Card Company around 9:30.
I'm just gonna slip in and hope no one notices.
Ultimate Test of Wits: Which Fuckhole from The Golden Girls is Most Like You?
- I've developed a taxing and revealing quiz for you to figure out which Golden Girl you most identify with! When you are finished, please post your results in the comments page so I can determine whether or not I'm writing for a bunch of Dorothy Zbornaks and so that I can decide whether or not I'd like to continue doing so.
1. When you use the bathroom to take a massive dump, how would you best describe your stool?
A)Backed up, can't go without suppositories
D)After several manly grunts, you plop out some real solid turds
2. What medications or supplements are you currently on?
A)Centrum Extreme Silver
B)Stem Cell Gel Tabs for brain regeneration
D)Human Growth Hormones
3. What is your favorite TV Show?
B)CSI: St. Olaf
D)Cagney and Lacey
4. Who is your favorite rockstar of all time ever?
5. How would your friends describe you?
A)An old sack of poop
B)An old dummy from the hills
C)An old tomato with nice melons
D)An old transmale who couldn't give it away in a Longaberger basket with a bow.
If you answered A-D on any of these questions, Congratulations! You are a lot like the fuckholes from The Golden Girls!
From the Webmaster:
Trackbackrubs go out to Thighs Wide Shut, Fleshbot, Brooklyn Vegan, Central Village, The Decadent West, Drunken Stepfather, The Vertical Slum, Tale of Two Cities, Monkeypup, & Fiveoclockbot for the links and the enthusiasm over the week that took a glimpse deep into Sophia Petrillo's punani.
Tomorrow: The winneroftheSAT gets ready for his first day on the job at the Burning Bridges Factory!
The Fuckability of The Golden Girls! - Part 4
- Dorothy Zbornak
Let me start off by saying that if I wanted to throw it in a fatalistic botched op trannie, there's plenty of 'em listed in the back pages of the Village Voice--I don't need to go to Miami to get my fix.
I'm in no mood to stand behind Stanley Zbornak for a piece of Dorothy's pie. Why's he always trying to get back in her pants? He knows what's in there--a giant strap on dildo. Someone get this man one for Christmas so he can leave her alone.
Can you even imagine Dorothy's man hands gripped around your tool? I'll reenact it for you:
Dorothy: Do you like it when I do this? *Squeeze*
You: Um...I guess that's okay Dorothy.
Dorothy: How about this? *Squeezes really hard*
You: Er...Could you lighten up just a tad...erk.
Dorothy: Like this? *Rips off penis and sack, throws them into mouth like popcorn chicken, chomps dramatically, then spews the mixture all over you like a scene out of a Dennis Cooper novel while you cry/try to run*
What's a matter pussycat? Didn't like that visual? You'd be thrilled to know she got married on the last episode to Leslie Nielsen and they moved far far away to a town that accepts that sort of thing.
If you threw a party and invited everyone you knew, don't invite the Debbie Downer of the 80's, Dorothy Zbornak.
On a scale of 1 to throbbing boner, Dorothy gets a -2... million!
The Fuckability of The Golden Girls! - Part 3
- Blanche Devereaux
Blanche Devereaux is such a great example of someone with Southern hospitality. She's dainty, charming, fun, and her hoo-ha literally has a neon WELCOME sign dangling from it. I've seen it!
She's the kind of Golden Girl who'll let you put "it" in "anywhere" on a first date. By "it," I mean your donger. "Anywhere"=Anal. Clearly.
With most ladies, this uh, generosity can create a situation in which you may become emotionally unavailable should they start asking for an actual relationship, however, that's not the case with Blanche! After stuffing it in her pooper, you'll want to get breakfast at Denny's in the morning, swab each other's mouths with syrupy sausage links, and do the pooper thing all over again a few hours later.
You best keep your eye on her when you squirm out of the booth to make change at the register. She'll be eyeballing the busboys and kitchen staff for future pole wrangling prospects.
Busty Blanche is a bad girl. Bad girls need bad boys to keep them in line. Unless your name is Bobby Brown, this insatiable sack hungry broad may leave you in the dust. Except, I don't think she dates black people. So I suppose your name better be Rocker Tommy Lee if you wanna keep her.
When all is said and done, is she doable? Giggity yeah. On a scale of 1 to throbbing boner, she's a throbbing boner!!
The Fuckability of The Golden Girls! - Part 2
- Rose Nylund
There's something endearing about a woman who will let you poop on her chest. Rose Nylund is that woman. Go on, just ask her. Sweet talk her a little bit. "Nice blouse. Hey, do you care if I give you some applause from the back row?" or "Those pumps are quite sensible. Would you mind trying on a Roman War Helmet?" You never know though, she's probably just as capable of accidentally giving you some new deviant creation no one's ever heard of like a George Jefferson or an Einstein's Equation while tryin' to be cute.
I know the average wotSAT reader probably isn't one to kick someone out of bed for making crumbs, but personally, if I had to hear a single god damned story about St. Olaf, Minnesota after we made love, her wrinkly butt would be out on the street.
And likewise for the St. Olaf factor, Rose would be relegated strictly to booty call status. There's no way I'd go steady with Rose and meet her entire stupid backwoods family. Sorry babe. And also, when I page her, she better call me back within 5 minutes, because I don't have time to put up with her idiocy. One strike and she's out!
Caution! She’s not a behind the dumpster kind of girl like Blanche, you’re going to have to take her out a few times to see results.
Therefore, given that Rose Nylund has a child like innocence only R Kelly could love, on a scale of 1 to throbbing boner, Rose gets a 3!
The Fuckability of The Golden Girls! - Part 1
- Sophia Petrillo
With age comes experience. Sophia is a nonagenarian with the figure of an octogenarian. She's got sass and a thing or two to teach you in the bedroom if she can remember it. She used to be the most beautiful girl in her Sicilian village, but hard times have befallen the matriarch of The Golden Girls over the past 70 years and her youthful good looks have sagged to new lows.
Menopause is everyone's friend when you're old. The major bennie for dudes is that the elderly woman is more apt to partake in mindblowing uprotected sex binges. Because Sophia no longer has periods--her menses is paused--the risk of accidentally bringing another Dorothy into the world is reduced to zero! There is probably no need to worry about VD with her, she's a committed monogamist to the spirit of her deceased husband Sal. Although, we never know for certain what went on in her years at the Shady Pines nursing home, one could assume no one got into those cotton briefs with incontinence liners besides the occasional staff nurse.
There's something in the air though in Miami. The heat, the salty waves--it drives men and women wild. If you do choose to rail Sophia Petrillo, bring plenty of astroglide folks. Chances are that shit is drier than the Atacama desert and tighter than LL Cool J driving a Bentley with one arm. Picture it!
Something I've always wanted to know: What's she always carrying in that purse of her's--series E savings bonds? An alterable will? When you're taking a break from engaging in coital acts, you can find out once and for all after you help her get up to pee.
NYC Sophia enthusiasts can find real life impersonators working at Rosemary's Greenpoint Tavern in Brooklyn.
On a scale of 1 to throbbing boner, Sophia gets a 1!
Watch out for that BUS!
Guess who got hit by a speeding double decker tour bus the other day?! You got it—me! I was in Midtown where I love to hang out to shop and eat and have a great time and all of a sudden a huge red bus comes careening into the sidewalk where I was standing. I felt MUCH better after the jaws of life were used to mechanically separate me from the twisted metal and I truly appreciate everyones’ concern over where I’ve been lately. Instead of prayers, please send get-well-soon cards filled with money. You should always assume that if I fail to post each day, then I most likely have been hit by a bus.
Anyways, the past few mornings I’ve been gathering my strength to carry on and I thought I should give you a teaser of what’s to come on this site. I hinted way back in the summer about a weeklong feature on a certain ability of the Golden Girls. That’s coming very soon. It’ll be way tasteful! Oh--this is big--as many of you may know, I’m beginning a new job at the Burning Bridges Greeting Card Company next week! I think they have some new cards out too. You might also recall that I don’t want to work there anymore since I found out that Sebastian Tolliver, this total maniac who is trying to kill me, is going to be my boss there. That’ll sure make for some awkward situations, huh!
I’d quit the job, but do any of you have any idea how unemployable I am? It’s practically mind boggling. The buffet attendants at Ponderosa hide behind the salad bar when they see me walking up in my tuxedo to get an application and a third helping of mac & cheese casserole. I get no respect.
Hey, does anybody like any of these regular wotSAT feature columns: The Positively Opposite Review, Totally IN, Which Did I Care About Less, Newsblitz!, Yesterday I Was Culturally Relevant, or the Say Something Nice To series? You do? Fantastic. They’re all copyright protected now. Don’t even think of stealing them for your blog or publication! See you Monday!