Other Things Electronic Arts has Landed the Exclusive Rights To
- No one likes competing for things--especially the world's largest software developer, Electronic Arts. In addition to their industry shocking multi-billion dollar exclusive acquisition of the NFL license, they've recently secured the exclusive rights to the NHL too. Soon, all sports games will be made by the same gaywad company. This is fantastic news! Drunk on its own power, I've found that Electronic Arts has been buying up and hording all sorts of things:
--All the poop that comes out of your anus
--Exclusive fingerbanging rights to your girlfriend
--Terri Schiavo's cremated remains
--The movie option to the tragic demise of my former landlady
--A summer share on the Jersey Shore
--One Crunch Wrap Supreme from Taco Bell.
--8 Minute Abs
--Lots and lots of roofies
--Chapelle Show Season 3, for private viewing only.
--A black dildo factory
--The Dollar General dollar store chain so EA can vertically integrate a nationwide dumping ground for all their sporting titles once a new year comes out.
Another Parade Disaster
Man! I get some really fucked up parade information. Yesterday wasn't the 4th of July Parade!! I spent hours in the morning caking on Uncle Sam make-up and BeDazzle-ing turquoise rhinestones into my red, white, and blue patriot landsuit to celebrate the birth of our nation. I get to the parade line-up at 50th Street in Manhattan and was completely dumbfounded as to why no one else was wearing our country's colors.
I got up on my stilts and surveyed the queer assemblage of a crowd before marching down the street.
"You don't look anything like lovers of America! You look like lovers of same-sex genitals!!" I pointed and laughed at the nearby dudes in thongs and rollerblades. "These colors don't burn!!" I chanted to the parade watchers.
"Whatever, Mary!" snarled a fabulous looking drag queen, as she kicked out my right leg. "This is the gay pride parade, you freak!"
"Whoa-a-whoa-a-whoa!!" I yelped as my stilts went in opposite directions.
The crowd cheered as I did the splits all the way to the ground. Could this be any more embarrassing? Yes! My pants had the biggest rip right down the middle of my crotch! The tear was so gaping and far-reaching, my pants AND boxers were literally divided into two. As I stood back up on the stilts, the waist of my pants peeled away to the sides like a banana peel, revealing my manhood to all of New York City and its rabid, undulating gays. The crowd cheered again.
What's worse was I couldn't get off the parade route. All the sidewalks were barricaded! While covering my face and my dingle, I stilt walked as fast as I could the remaining 50 blocks and escaped to a nearby subway station.
Mortifying! To think, this is practically a repeat of what happened to me on St. Patrick's Day, too. I should learn my lesson and just stay home.
Run for Your Lives!
I knew immediately after reading that Snapple was attempting to set the record for the world's largest popsicle, that I simply must bare witness when they hoisted the 17 ton ice phallus in the center of Union Square. After work yesterday, I sauntered leisurely over to the scene where a swarm of Union Squarians had circled ravenously around the popsicle to partake in the viewing. It was such a hot and beautiful Summer day, what could possibly go wrong?
A crane baring the Snapple logo, began moving towards the 25' thing resting on a truck. Something was not right. The confection was unstable. The crane operator started shouting. Production assistants on headsets were panicking. The popsicle glistened ominously. And then, the UNTHINKABLE happened.
The popsicle was melting!
"GaAAAAAHHHHhhhhhh!!!" I screamed. "Run! Everybody run!!!" Children were shrieking, parents were crying. I started pushing people to higher ground. "Get out of here!" The icee gushed and the first wave of Snapple swathed violently over bystanders. The frozen treat was melting faster than anyone expected and a HUGE 2nd wave crashed, knocking the elderly to the street. In my periphery, I saw a helpless infant get picked up in the swirling, murderous Kiwi-Strawberry goo-current.
"Somebody help that helpless infant!" a homeless skateboarder beckoned.
"My baby! My helpless baby!!" the mother of the child rallied.
"There's no time!!!" I recoiled.
And then the baby was swept down a storm drain.
As I write this, I shudder to think how many other families had their lives ruined by Snapple on this black day in history. God help us all.
I Much Prefer Times Square to Union Square
To visit the Pringles Flagship store!
To see Mariah Carey!
To go to Red Lobster!
To get hit by a bus!
Congratulations College Graduates!
Congratulations college graduates! To my Spanish readers, Feliz Navidad college graduates! To the Germans, Glückwünsche!
Could I have said those words had I myself not graduated from college? Never.
Let me share with you the pride I feel when I stare at the diploma above my workdesk. The diploma above my workdesk is something I can feel proud of. It tells me who I am, how many bad decisions I've made, and where I’m about to go. It says to executives and other passersby, "This guy isn't no stupid idiot. He has a degree. With someone else’s name on it. From a fake school, most likely. Certainly, printed off his computer using ancient Print Shop publishing software and a dot matrix ImageWriter II."
A college diploma is your passport to success. It's something you can take with you to job interviews. Upon meeting potential employers at that crucial first interview, it is common practice to shake hands with your right hand and transfer your degree with your left. Keep your icy, menacing eyes locked on the interviewer. Allow him or her to feel, in complete silence, the gravitas of the moment and the history behind that degree.
Ah... as I look up at the diploma above my workdesk, smug self-satisfaction washes over me. Everyone said I couldn't do it. But I did it. Look where I am today. I'm living paycheck to paycheck in New York City and I'm the 2nd Assistant to the Vice President of Consumer Affairs' Assistant at Burning Bridges Greetings in charge of ordering binder clips for all of our North American offices. I could never have made it ALL THIS WAY without a college degree and the advantages known as white privilege.
Congratulations college graduates! I look forward to welcoming you to the workforce someday.
What Did You Do with My Wiener?
- "Where is it? My wiener was just here a few minutes ago and now it's gone! Debbie, did you touch my thick wiener?"
"No. Good God no," Debbie replied while jerking meat in an electric food dehydrator.
"Then where could it possibly be?" I reached for Debbie's buns. They were soft and supple.
"Awful. This is just terrible. How are we going to have a festive patio BBQ without wieners? Should we just use sausage instead?"
"Sausage parties are always fun."
"But the ratios of sausage to non-sausage items can be overwhelming, Debbie."
"Then you know what Nate, forget about squirting sausage and beefy wieners. We could always get some poultry--maybe a plump cock and pullet!"
"Well, If I didn't spend so much time already working on my wiener, then I wouldn't be asking in the first place. Debbie, did you call everyone to remind them about the party? Ivana Kegel, Aunt Crank, Hoff Olivier, and Master Bate?"
"Oh yes, they're all coming. Everyone's agreed to come at the exact same time. It will be quite an experience."
"Oh GEE, dilemma solved! I found my wiener! I placed it in the bathroom next to my Bathroom Reader Volume 68! I'm a moron."
"That you are Nate, that you are," concluded Debbie as she rinsed out a novelty Party Boner in the sink.
Live Blogging the Countdown to the Michael Jackson Verdict
- The fate of the known world rests in 12 lame, non-celebrity hands. At 1:30 Pacific Time, or 4:30 here in the East coast future, the verdict of the Michael Jackson trial will be announced!
3:45 PM Here we go! 45 More minutes til the healing hand of justice applies balm to the swollen anuses of the alleged victims.
4:20 PM I have to interrupt the countdown. It's 4:20! Pass those blunts over this way.
4:30 PM We should take this moment to look back on Michael Jackson's stunning career. It all began with Moonwalker for the Sega Genesis and then it ended abruptly a year later during a music video with Eddie Murphy.
4:33 PM I was thinking, if he's guilty, then I hope Michael Jackson has learned his lesson once and for all. If he's found not guilty, then he should continue living his life exactly the way he's been living.
5:17 PM Get to the court room Michael! This is boring. You know, I took a cancer test a few weeks ago, and I didn't want to take it but when the blood tests came back and said I didn't have cancer, it was silly of me to think for all those months that I had cancer all along. I guess it's a slightly different because I had nothing to do with diddlin' baby boys. It's not like he was ever accused of molesting a girl or anything, but the honest fact is that Michael will be relieved once he finds out the verdict is GUILTY. Er, NOT GUILTY.
5:22 PM Drum roll... NOT GUILTY!
5:23 PM Well that was unexpected!
Keep your browser tuned here for up to the moment results!!
Yard Sale! - Part 3
- Seven rowdy bystanders, three street kids, and a mole person--who climbed out from the soiled pits of the subway system--helped chase after the retard who stole my priceless tuxedo from my yard sale.
But it was no use. The more we trotted and shoved aside slow moving pedestrians, the more our breath became heavy and our legs turned to jello. The mongoloid escaped.
I stopped abruptly and held up a defeated hand to signal our quest to capture the thief would no longer continue. I made a stoic speech thanking each of the angry mob members personally for their contributions and we all parted ways. I had a yard sale to get back to!
As I walk up 5th Avenue towards my brownstone, I begin to see a steady stream of people carrying my stuff. Couples looked so happy clutching my personal items, swinging them saying things like, "I can't believe they paid us to take this!" That's odd. My roommate Debbie has been running the yard sale in my absence... Debbie!
"Debbie!" I yelped after dashing the rest of the way home, "Where's all my shit?!" The yard sale was picked over like a lesbian bar at closing time.
"I sold it."
"How much money did we make?"
"Mmmm... I dunno. 12 or 13..."
"Phew. 12 or 13 thousand dollars! Praise the lord," I sighed.
"No, I meant 12 or 13 nickels. Yeah, 65 cents." Debbie showed me the handful of change. I slapped the change out of her hand.
"You idiot! Everything is gone! How much did you sell my original early Jean-Michel Basquiat for?!"
"Oh, that? I sold that and your 2005 Series Pringles collection for 3 bucks," Debbie responded.
"It took me months too eat all those Pringles! How much did you get for Romance of the Three Kingdoms VIII for the PS2 and Sorority Boys on DVD?"
"It wasn't very much--a few Canadian pennies."
"Oh Debbie! How could you." I began bawling. "Whore."
"Cheer up, I sold your shredded documents for 5 bucks! Someone was very interested in those." Debbie rubbed my shoulder gingerly.
"Hmph. Then how is it you only have a handful of change?!"
"Because I had to go buy tampons," Debbie answered sheepishly.
"God damnit! You wear a burqa, Debbie!"
This was quite possibly the worst yard sale ever. Things couldn't possibly get any crappier...
To be continued
The HOTTEST baby names are IN!
- The June edition of Hottest Baby Names just went to press! I think this may be the best issue yet.
CLICK HERE to see the Hottest Baby Names for the Month of June 2005
From the Webmaster:
That thing the winneroftheSAT has been working on isn't ready for primetime... yet. Soon though. Soon.
Have you Seen The Apiary?!
- Holy Cow! I'm never one to link to anything useful or culturally relevant, but this site I stumbled upon is totally wicked!!
Come back Monday. I have something I've been working on that's going to take all of us from the C-list... straight to the bottom of the B-List!
Shocking Deep Throat Secret Captures Imagination of Nerds Living in Washington, D.C. and That's It.
- Did you hear about Deep Throat? OMG! Fellow nerds living in the District, isn’t this like the biggest story ever? Debate must be raging in social clubs across your city. Is he a hero? Is he a traitor? I yearn to join you, D.C. He kept his secret for thirty years—why come clean now?!
Rest of America, I turn to you. What is your take? You don't care? That's interesting. Who is Deep Throat, you say? Your high school American History class never made it past the Civil War because you lacked things rich schools had like “textbooks” and "running water?" I didn't think schools were like that. You’re saying all this chatter about Deep Throat is a trite waste? And that old people are gay? You're throwing a party over the fact that Deep Throat has been knocked off the Yahoo headline feed already? Hold on now. I think that’s a bit insensitive. What’s that? You have a good Deep Throat impersonation?
Surely you must comprehend the colossal weight and deft of this news?!