The Shocking Truth about Danica Patrick’s Phallus
Behind that adorable smile and leather unitard is a secret so girthy, so penetrating, the news will quite literally, enter you from behind and plug away at your manhole.
Danica is packing a monster phallus in her underpants! The proof is on this woman’s, excuse me, this dude’s biography at www.danicaracing.com. Take a look at this actual item!
FAVORITE CLOTHES: Guys briefs and a long sleeve t-shirt
Whoa! Back the truck up, Danica! Your favorite clothing is 'guys briefs?" Not a pretty floral sun dress? Or a satin tube top? Guys briefs??
And you thought that Danica had some low hangin’ tees. Those are actually testicles!
Oh, the Places You’ll End Up!: Defenestrated from a High Rise Luxury Condominium after a quarrel with a jealous Lover.
"I want out of this relationship!" you'll say to your jealous lover.
An argument will start over a simple round of Connect 4. Your lover convinced you reluctantly to stay in and have board game night. He'll playfully toss Connect 4 tokens at you and try to land them down your cleavage until you say, "Stop it, Just fucking stop it you stupid fuck! God, I hate you!"
You'll go on to list all the things he does that make you hate him and then you’ll reveal how you've nailed most of his family members. For the sake of impact you'll finish your tirade with, "Being in a relationship with you makes me yearn for the sweetness of death!"
And that's when he flies into a terrifying rage. Oops! You'll say, "Hey, I didn't really mean ALL those things. I was using hyperbole... Wait. What are you doing? Oh no!"
As you're pushed through a glass window from the 14th floor of a luxury highrise condominium and begin plummeting, you'll wonder how your obit is going to look in the quarterly Alumni magazine, and you’ll sigh, "Oh! The places I've ended up!"
Oh, The Places You'll End Up!: On Stage at The Comedy Zone telling 9/11 jokes to Other Gutless Asshats and The Bored
If you're a used airplane salesman and some toweljockey comes lookin' to buy a plane... There's probably no point in pushing the extended warranty! I'm just sayin'! Just sayin' people.
Everyone in college thought you were hilarious. Heck, your friends still encourage you, "You should totally submit something to McSweeney's! Like a list or some bullshit." Little do they know, your email inbox holds countless rejection letters from every editor at every magazine in the world—even Equus.
Your office job is really stifling your creativity. Maybe it's time for a career in stand up comedy? Yes that's it! You've got some good material about college life in you. Oh! You know what else is funny? Swearing! That's hilarious. But you want to be edgy—that's your thing. Bingo! 9/11 Jokes.
Did you hear Michael Graves is designing the new Freedom Tower? Yeah, he's going to put a Target logo on the front of the building! I’m just sayin'! Just sayin' people.
Tonight is your first night. You have been practicing your bits for weeks. Now get out there and shine!
Uh oh. No one's laughing. Oh dear. A fat dude just threw a battery at you. Eek! But you have 20 more minutes of these jokes! At this time you'll look at your watch, wipe the disgusting sweat off of your bald brow and remark, "Oh, the Places I've Ended Up!"
Oh, The Places You'll End Up!: The Waiting Room of a VD Clinic for the Uninsured
You majored in Scientist Studies, the ink on your diploma is still wet. You say goodbye to college and head to the big city...
May I suggest you make one careful decision before you commence your hopefully short lifetime of bad decisions? Do yourself a favor and move to a town with a Planned Parenthood or a GMHC. The truth is, it usually takes months of intensive STD treatment before you start a career.
Commit their numbers to memory. Upon moving, schedule a meet & greet appointment so you get to know the health care practitioners who will be habitually swabbing and gazing at your soon-to-be fetid noonie. You'll also want to choose a waiting room that’s right for your lifestyle.
Honestly—how are you supposed to get on the corporate ladder if you're not stuffing one cock after another into your face? That's a problem for today's grads. Sometimes it's hard to ask a potential employer if it'd be okay to wrap the lower half of his or her body in saran wrap and just cuddle.
Your taint outbreak isn't going anywhere. Neither is the gonorrhea in your throat. All you new grads are gonna spend a lot of time in the waiting room of a VD clinic because studies show it could take as many as 8 or 9 variant strains of the human papilloma virus before you even land your first temp job!
When you're unemployed and revising your resume in the waiting room of a VD clinic for the uninsured, you'll lean away from the decrepit half-wit next to you with the Tuberculosis cough and say to yourself, "Oh the Places I’ve Ended Up!"
This One Goes out to all the New Grads!
Yard Sale! - Part 2
- Part 1
"Come back with my tuxedo!" I shrieked as I chased after a wanton mongoloid. He barrelled down 5th Avenue, Brooklyn, and I was hot on his trail. I can't believe this guy would come to my yard sale and try to run off with my priceless tuxedo!
A well timed slide tackle brought the burglar to the pavement. The tuxedo flew from his hands and landed in a scum puddle on the edge of the sidewalk. I pinned and mounted the criminal UFC style and started punching him in the face.
A crowd began to form.
"Hey buddy, what are you doing?" a man in pleated khakis asked.
"What does it look like! I'm cleaning up the streets," I breathlessly shouted as I landed a jab in the robber's fat gut.
"But he's just a retard. Why are you punching him?" a crotchety woman with purple hair chimed in.
"Let the retard up. He's harmless," said a dude holding an issue of Radar Magazine.
"Stop hitting that helpless retard," motioned a girl eating a bomb-pop.
"I find it culturally insensitive that you all keep calling him a retard," I gasped while rifling through my enemy's pockets for his wallet or some cash.
"He's trying to steal that retard's wallet!" a passerby on a low-rider bicycle added.
A Rastafarian in cargo shorts pulled me off my assailant. "Just chill, dude. That retard isn’t going to take your tuxedo."
The crowd stood around my thief and we watched as he slowly reestablished consciousness and came to his feet. He shook his head and wiped the dirt off his sweatpants. He looked wearily around at all of us watching him then looked at the tuxedo that was still on the ground. He gave us one more groggy look.
Then he snatched the tuxedo and began sprinting!
"AFTER HIM!" I howled.
To be continued!
What's the deal with my Internet Friends being Missing or Dead?
- You used to be so young, so virile, and so full of life. Now look at you. You're all dead.
Who could possibly take your places? Were there signs? I'm usually better at ruining lives than saving them, but was there something I could have done to save you?
I'll dispatch an Amber Alert just in case...
Check it Out!: The Pringles Flagship Store in Times Square
This past weekend, Pringles opened its 50,000 square foot flagship store, right in the heart of Times Square.
Designed by brilliant architect, Rem Koolhaas, the main attraction of the Pringles flagship is the 4 story tall Pringles volcano situated right past the atrium. Every half hour, a Philip Glass orchestral score comes on the loudspeakers and a lazer light show begins. It culminates in a million crisps erupting out of 25’ radius can—dehydrated potato particles shower the mania consumed patrons like confetti on New Year’s. Then, a simulated lava river of partially hydrogenated oil washes over bystanders and floods out onto Broadway.
I stayed for about five or so washings. There’s just so much to do there. The Virtual Reality Chamber allows you to virtually eat any flavor of Pringles. The Pringles Man animatronic band plays an electro version of "Once U Pop, U Can't Stop" over and over. What else? Oh! The bathrooms were designed with public sex in mind.
As some of you know, I am an avid Pringles collector. I find most the pieces of my collection at the local Rite Aid for 99 cents. The Pringles flagship store in Times Square has awesome limited edition flavors you can’t find anywhere such as Sausage Supreme, Hardee’s Frisco Burger, and Gay Agenda flavored.
Next time you’re in New York, Check it out!
Live Blogging 25 Shots for 25 Years
- At my own insistence, I just poured 25 shots for myself in celebration of turning 25 yesterday. I’m very excited about ingesting all this alcohol. I thought it might be fun to live blog while I do the shots. What do you say, readers? Okay! Let's go!
Shot 1: Whew. That went down smooth.
Shot 2: Mmmm. Yeow! Only 23 more shots of Peppermint Schnapps to go!
Shot 3: Not feeling anything.
Shot 4: Still not feeling anything. This is boring. There must be a way to quicken the pace here.
I’m dumping the remaining 21 shots into an oversized beer stein. At this VERY MOMENT, I am chugging the alcohol from the stein. There! It’s all finished. I’ve consumed all of the liquor and I just slammed the stein upside-down on the counter.
Hmmm. Is there even alcohol in this alcohol?
Here it comes.
I'm so wasted I can't type!
I don’t feel so good!
OMG! Akajldkjfiaghdh I'm entering into a coma right THIS SECOND! Call an ambulance!
HOLY FUCKING FUCK! I was just in a coma! Thank goodness I've pulled out.
Ugh... I'm soooooo hungover.
Why didn't you people try and stop me??
It's my Birthday!
- "Birthday, Birthday, Birthday for you! It’s hard to believe that a year is through!"
Debbie sang this unconventional song and presented me with a burnt lasagna pan of angel food cake with no icing and a single candle. She had carved the word BIRTHDAY into the top of the cake, but the letter spacing was misjudged and the AY of the word curved down.
"Surprise! Make a wish!!" my roommate implored.
"I wish I was never born!" I responded.
"Aw, Come on. Turning 25 can't be that bad. Wish for something that can actually happen," Debbie urged.
"Um... I wish a jet engine would land on me while I slept like in Donnie Darko."
"Oh, I know. I wish you'd go away forever but leave me with enough money to cover your share of the rent."
This wore Debbie's patience, "You know Nate, you should be careful what you wish for. What if I really did go away forever? Then you’d feel awful."
"Maybe," I lied.
Debbie gave me a side hug and I cringed.
I blew out the candle and we sat in our apartment in the dark.
This can only end with a sidewalk shooting outside New York’s Hot 97FM
Oooohh! I totally scooped Brooklyn Vegan, Central Village, and the rest of the music bloggers with this exclusive!
Hot on the heels of Macho Man Randy Savage’s LP, Be A Man, WWE Superstar John Cena dropped what COULD BE the best wrestling related rap album since.
Click here to try before you buy!
Can somebody loan me $9.99?
The program director at New York’s Hot 97FM, the station where 50 Cent's friends shot some of Fat Joe's friends, graciously chipped in, "We can't assist every rapping wrestler with their dreams of pinning the world champion, but we can certainly help them slay each other in our studio."
My Problem with Mother's Day
- Whereas Mother's Day is like the biggest day of the year for restaurants, florists, and anal lube manufacturers, sadly, the Burning Bridges line of Mother's Day cards simply wasn't moving.
Mother's Day is really confusing for me. As astute readers might recall, I have a dual set of post-op transexual parents. Who doesn't these days? But, let's say I buy Mother-to-Father a pretty teardrop necklace, she-to-he starts bawling, telling me I'm oppressing her gender identity. If I buy Father-to-Mother a nice tennis bracelet, he-to-she reminds me, "I hate jewelry! Just because I drink estrogen in milkshake format, doesn't negate the fact I used to have a fat sack of semen, you know."
So on Mother's Day, instead of buying anything for either one of them, I simply send a blank card addressed to both that says "Congratulations Trannies."
Cinco de OH NO!
- I saw a curious bodega selling the following items on a sidewalk in Park Slope today.
-Girls’ t-shirts with shiny fonts and cute phrases like "Chica Caliente," "Muy Bonita" and "Estupido Maricon"
-Fake immigration documents
-Sunless Tanning Cream
-Baseball bats to be used with pinatas or for beating French expeditionary marauders.
I picked up a couple tubes of Sunless Tanning Cream and walked across the street where I saw another sidewalk sale with this stuff for sale!
-French marauding gear.
-Girls' t-shirts with cute phrases like "Trop chaud," "Fille Mignonne" and "Je suis un homo"
-Baseball bats to be used for beating indigenous Mexicans.
-Posters of Archduke Maximillian
-Idiot’s Guide to Colonizing Foreign Land book
I bought some posters. And then it struck me. Hey, wait a second, what's today? The 5th of May... Cinco de...
Just then, a nearby church bell ominously rang out and other pedestrians on the sidewalk grabbed their kids and scuttled inside their tenement buildings. Slowing cars abruptly stopped in both lanes of the street. Oh my God! Someone help me!!! People dressed like the Three Muskateers stormed out of one car firing rifles and hurling epees. In the other car, dudes in ponchos, pulled out glocks and lobbed Molotov cocktails fashioned out of Corona bottles.
As the cars sped off, both concession stands were completely decimated and dozens lay dead in pools of blood.
I've Located the Best Website IN THE ENTIRE COUNTRY! Link inside!
- Read Sploid's Finest Headline
HERE BEFORE YOU IS THE BEST WEBSITE THE NATION HAS EVER LAID EYES UPON.
If you venture into the site's Guestbook, you'll find some precious treats. Such as:
"I am 80 years old, a veteran of the Pacific war, father of a 36 year old webmaster, and a former Madison Ave. advertising art director. Do not listen to those criticizing your website...simplicity is the essence of all art and of good taste also. There are too many glitzy, HTML web pages filled with clever stuff authored by non artistic people. The web, after all, is for communication not an art gallery for tasteless graphics. --John E. McColuogh"
"Good Job. This is a great start to a brilliant career. Keep learning and improve it and you'll be amazed at what the future will bring. --CG"
"I must say I was disappointed to see that you built this site using MS FrontPage using a template. If you had hand-coded it in HTML, now that would have impressed me! --Webmaster"
"You think you're something now, huh?! I'll tell you what! You ain't! You ain't nothing! Have you ever won the SAT? I didn't think so. I'm a genius. You're not. Face it. When you're not looking, I will steal that web design trophy from you and use it as a doorstop! --Anonymous"
Say Something Nice To... Lynndie England!
Lynndie R. England. American icon. You need cheered up! Too many player denigrators out there. She's in the news again for pleading guilty to the Abu Ghraib prison abuses re: her and a bunch of naked Iraqi detainees. These are trying times for our hometown girl. Follow this trail of kindness and say something nice too!
--We’ve all "Done the Lynndie," but only a handful can say they’ve actually "Done" the Lynndie. (sexually).
--11 Years in federal prison sounds sooo long. Yuck! Think of it as 4017.25 days.
--This is outrageous! The prosecution has no evidence!
--I think you were framed. Isn’t being stacked in a hooded, nude fuck-pyramid how Iraqis normally spend their time?
--You and co-conspirator Charles Graner went on to conceive a beautiful child together. Goes to show this old adage still holds true, All you need is love... and torture!
--Laughing at others' genitals is not a crime.
--You won't have to worry about getting a stifling admin day job to make ends meet. Work stinks!
--When America's Next Top Model photographer, Nigel Barker, saw your portfolio when you were 18 and seeking modeling work, he said you were "dead in the eyes" and dismissed you. Look who the camera loves now. You!
--I'm pretty sure entering a Guilty plea before a military tribunal to enjoin in the commission of war crimes gets erased from your permanent record when you turn 25. I think your car insurance premiums go down too.
Say something nice!
The last time we were nice:
Say something nice to... Paris Hilton!