#14: You Won’t Like Him When He’s Angry

This week, the word of the day is “Mytacism”. We have an rare sighting of the enraged Jerry Jones, we talk about Facebook stock, “The Dictator”, cupcake sausages, a post-op beauty pageant contestant, and we insult every person in the world!

You want notes? YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE NOTES!!! Fine you can have them…

UNCIVILIZED BEHAVIOR

WEEKS!!!!!!!!!!:
– no time for shit!
– Tropico 4

WORD OF THE DAY:

-mytacism- The incorrect or excessive use of the letter M

Riffle:

– Facebook Stock

SPONSOR: Cocktails with Punch!

MEDIA MONEYSHOT:
–  “The Dictator” What the fuck is wrong with you Sascha Baron Cohen!?

Raffle:

– Over agressive-ness

WTF;
– Cupcake Turds http://www.geekologie.com/2012/05/cupcakewurst-grillable-cupcakes-in-sausa.php

MISSED CONNECTIONS:

UT Girls Not Brave Enough for Secluded Campus Encounters – m4w


You! Slim, with the black hair We had the whole floor of the law library (now apparently being renovated) to ourselves. It was late at night, we were both stealing glances at each other. We got around to talking at last, and I asked you if you were going to be studying all night. “Oh yes, all night,” you said, pausing to smile invitingly before you added, “At least, that’s the plan…” There were plenty of empty, dark rooms, offering stupid amounts of fooling-around possibilities to us. But you ended up being too scared to go beyond anything but the blind under-the-table groping, constantly scanning the area as if some unseen (possibly Catholic?) authority figure was going to leap upon us–“Fornicators!”–and, I don’t know, lock us in a frightening gun store bondage basement to be sodomized (which would seemingly contradict the whole Catholic impression I first had). Anyway, for some reason, the countless shadowed nooks and crannies we could have been cavorting in seemed less favorable to you than our table in the middle of the room, devoid of any cover whatsoever. Maybe you were afraid I would murder you or something? Whatever. The building closed. I left frustrated that we had come so close to a possibly fulfilling impromptu encounter.

And you! Really hot blonde in the PCL lab that one night! We made out for a minute or two, I got handfuls of your great ass through your tights. We heard somebody coming around the corner, broke apart, waited for them to pass. After that you seemed to lose your nerve, even though we were literally standing right in front of an empty room no one had any reason to enter! You were convinced that somebody would walk in on us. So our encounter, which had only just been starting to get really hot, came to an abrupt and lame “separate-ways” ending. I went home that night with a seemingly permanent erection and masturbated in frustration and anger against God. Against all the world. It could have been so good.

And goddamn you, gorgeous short-haired brunette with the Death From Above 1979 tote bag and great taste in music who I ran into in the Union. The place was practically dead, and those bathroom stalls on the third floor are impossibly clean! I tried to explain this to you, but you, too, lacked the courage, convinced that we would be heard.

Please UT girls. I like private home-made sex as much as anybody, but these opportunities are rare goddamned semi-public-sex unicorns. They will not roam the halls of the retirement home you will eventually inhabit once your children have back-stabbed you and imprisoned you there. By then you will be drooling and possibly rambling about the time uncle Jo left all the cat food out and the cat ate too much of it and my it smelled awful in that house for days until the cat finally died and a wild “ky-oat” or summit dragged the carcass into the forest one night and oh are you my husband?

Just make this semester a little more exciting.

Taxidermied hamsters for sale

I have a family of taxidemied hamsters for sale. They are perfect for the kid who wants a hamster but you know damn well won’t take care of them. Just buy a cage, pose them in it and tell the kids to enjoy. If the kids ask why they aren’t moving just explain to them that happy hamsters keep still. These hamsters were originally bought with love and taken care of very well. Then, as is usually the case with my little ba**** kid, he lost interest and kept forgetting to feed them. One by one they dropped off. I couldn’t bear to flush these cute things down the toilet so I bought a taxidermy kit and stuffed them. The best part about these guys is that they won’t soil the cage or cost anything in food! They’ll just give hours of pleasure like live hamsters. Call or e-mail me with an offer so that you can begin your new life as a hamster owner! [number deleted]

Thanks,
Joe “Buzzy”

Dear, guy masturbating in the bathroom stall at my work…


Ok, I get it. You had to rub one out. I know the feeling. Maybe it was thinking about that totally hot little minx in purchasing that got you going. Or you got some steamy email from your wife. Whatever it was, you just needed a little release. We’ve all been there my friend.

But if I may be so bold as to offer a few tips?

1. Location Location Location – Maybe it was the bathroom closest to your desk. Maybe it has bigger stalls for more elbow room. But whatever the reason, the bathroom just off the factory floor is not your best choice. It is huge for a reason. There are about 80-90 workers on that factory floor at all times, plus about 30-40 office workers, and there’s almost always at least one person who needs to take a squirt.

2. Silence is Golden – While we all might empathize with your situation, NO ONE WANTS YOU HEAR YOU SLAP YOUR SALAMI!! And we certainly don’t want to hear the gentle grunts you were letting out. It was like being forced to listen to the audio of a bad gay porn soundtrack, minus the cheesy Casio keyboard jazz/funk fusion music. Keep it down, will ya?

3. Ms Manners says… – Ok, so you had a poor choice in bathrooms and you are just naturally loud. Even elemental problems such as these can be overcome by following rule #3. When someone comes into the bathroom….STOP!!! Seriously, I’d think that would be the easiest rule to follow. Did you not hear me open the door? Did you not hear me pull the ass gasket from the holder, tear off those 3 annoying pieces that hold the center in place, and sit down? Good god man, another man is taking a shit not 8 feet away from you. Shouldn’t that take the bloom off the rose, so to speak?

4. Good fences make good neighbors – This is the most important rule of all. If you have been caught rubbing one out in the men’s room, do not, under any circumstances, come out of your stall until all affected parties have left the bathroom. I’m never going to be able to get the picture out of my head of you going over to the sink right next to the one I was at, and looking at me in your mirror with a big contented smile while you’re washing your hands.

They don’t make a body soap strong enough for the ick I felt after that. No amount of showering tonight will do it I’m afraid.

Oh no fatty. That food’s not for you.

Hey fatbottom, don’t think I don’t see you coveting the kitten’s rich tasty kitten food. So knock it off, cause you ain’t getting any.

You can hatch evil plans to acquire the tasty food all you want, but let me remind you, you’re a cat, and your strategies have been at best dismal failures. Let’s refresh, shall we?

You headbutted the kitten away from her food. This was your best strategy to date, and you actually got to snarf down some of good stuff until I caught you, and you were greeted by your arch nemesis, Captain Squirtgun and his sidekick Lieutenant My-Foot-To-Yo-Fat-Ass. Me 1, Tubbins 0

Brute Force no longer an option, you decided to go stealth ops. Lurk, waiting for the kitten to wander, then you swoop in on a high speed raid. That didn’t work out so well for you either did it? Why not? Cause at 20 something lbs, you don’t ‘swoop’ very stealthy. There’s a reason Possums hunt at night- because they’d starve otherwise… just like you’re doing now. Me 2, Sumo-cat 0

Taking no chances and sick of having to guard the kitten bowl until she was done, I decided kitten gets to eat up on the counter. You hate that more than anything don’t you? I can just see the resentment in your pudgy face. Why does she get to eat steak up there, when I’m eating compressed dust down here? Because I know you can’t get up to the counter without a loud distinctive grunt and making a calamity trying to wiggle your raccoon-ass between the wall and the toaster. Me 3, Fatty 0.

Clearly I own you. In all senses of the word. You really ought to just get used to the Vet’s prescribed food. You’re gonna be eating it for at least a decade, which is forever as far as you’re concerned.

Riff to the Raff:
– Would you think she’s hot? http://shine.yahoo.com/fashion/trangendered-miss-universe-canada-contestant-takes-stage-172200662.html

GET FRENCHED:
– Modern dentistry by Pierre Fauchard

INSULT OF THE WEEK:
This one goes out to…… everyone! I fucking hate you all.

NOSTRA-DUMBASS PROPHECIES:
Jerry-
Josh-

Plugs :

JERRY “Baby Back Ribs” JONES:

JOSH “Burnt Cracker” MUSSER:

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-Donate
-Tell Your Friends! cause we’re a cult
Outro:
Extrie Extrie!

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#12: The Transvestite Soliloquies

This week the word of the day is “borborygmus”. Jerry serenades Josh after missing last week’s word, Taking a lightning strike to the balls, if we could live without money and technology, the Disney movie “Wreck it Ralph”, licking a monkey’s ass, Mantyhose, drunk spray, and we insult flamboyant gay people!

Silly Rabbit… Notes are for kids!

UNCIVILIZED BEHAVIOR

WEEKS!!!!!!!!!!:
– Done with education, failed robbery
– HOT AS SHIT! New glasses

JERRY SINGS!

WORD OF THE DAY:

-borborygmus- The rumbling sound of gas passing through the intestine
Riffle:

– Lightning to balls

SPONSOR: Cocktails with Punch!

MEDIA MONEYSHOT:
– “Wreck it Ralph” http://yhoo.it/JZVGL6

Raffle:

– Living without money/Technology

WTF:

– Lick my Hairy ass! http://now.msn.com/now/0503-licking-monkey-butt.aspx

MISSED CONNECTIONS:

Death Ray – Once in a lifetime opportunity!


Date: 2008-12-07, 12:10AM EST



This is a genuine Death Ray, aka home made solar oven. This thing is badass. You know how the economy’s been sucking? Well, burn up your least favorite politicians in a fiery ray of destruction and cook your dinner with the same device. Slick, eh? Since there’s a good chance, because a.) you’re reading Craigslist and b.) you’re reading the Northern Michigan section – that you’re homeless or close to becoming so, this is the perfect oven for you–it requires no electricity, and flip it over (it’s shaped like a parabola) and use it as a house.

With this Death Ray, lovingly handmade from refrigerator boxes and $30 worth of tinfoil, you could literally cook your Christmas ham and all the sides–at the same time. At over four feet tall and approximately six feet wide (when assembled) the Death Ray is sure to fill all of your cooking, living, and vaporizing needs.

Hurry to catch this special offer, as it won’t last long! Ask me with questions and for more pictures, if so desired. Please, serious offers only.

It even comes with a cardboard base so you can move it around to follow the sun’s rays. This beast was made for a physics class and got an A, but now the owner (that’s me) is tired of seeing it. It originally took three of us several weeks of intense cardboard-cutting, measuring, and tinfoil-wrapping to produce this thing. All measurements are present and correct. those sunrays will dive ecstatically to one white-hot point of heat about six inches from the bottom of the parabola.
It’s fully functional. It seemed a shame to just throw it away, not when there’s a buttload of valuable tinfoil on it. If nothing else, putting this shining Death Ray in your living room would be a powerful conversation starter.

It is made of twelve tinfoil-covered cardboard panels, three each taped into four larger panels. To put it all the way together, grab some duct tape and a friend and spend a few quality minutes wrestling the pieces into an appropriate cone. Flip it upright, plop it on the cardboard stand, and you’re ready to cook–or maybe, destruct!

Pick-up only. A normal car should be able to transport it, unassembled, although a spaceship might be more appropriate. And, in case you missed it further up, serious enquiries only. I know a genuine Death Ray is wont to make readers quite excitable, but save for congratulating me on my superior mental acuity or offering to take the lovely Death Ray off my hands, please refrain from pointless messages. I’m a busy woman. I’m currently working on the Death Ray 2–Earth Destroyer.

New Period Underwear!


Date: 2007-05-31, 7:03PM EDT



Today, I turned a perfectly good pair of panties into Period Underwear. I hate when that happens. Men may not know what Period Underwear are. I shall explain and enlighten. Period Underwear are what chicks wear when (surprise!) they’re on their period. NOTE: they start out as panties, but morph into underwear – PERIOD underwear. A few things can turn panties into Period Underwear. Here are some examples:

1. You’re wearing a capable pair of panties and the Monkey Gets a Nosebleed. It leaves an awful stain on the panties, which USUALLY can’t be removed, rendering them Period Underwear

2. They’re older panties, no longer favorites and you’d never wear them if there was a possibility you were getting laid, so you feel comfortable wearing them when Aunt Flo Comes to Visit, demoting them to Period Underwear status

3. They’re granny panties, you can’t remember why you have them and you pretty much only wear them when you’re home sick, or just plain suffering from the pain and bloat of being OTR because they’re really comfy and never ride up so they’re by default Period Underwear

4. These are nice panties, something you’ll wear even if you’re NOT Surfing the Crimson Flow and you’re not at all afraid to be seen in them but they’re dark colored (black, navy, red), thereby making them both Non-Period Panties and Period Underwear

That should do it! So men, now you know one of our dirty little secrets. If you see us in items #1 – #3, consider it notice that George is in Town. How you handle that knowledge is your affair, I’m just here to give you the low-down. If you see us in item #4, things could go either way, proceed as you wish.

Ladies, as one of THOSE commercials says, Have a Happy Period!

Your Life is Imperfect, and It’s All My Fault


Date: 2007-07-03, 4:07PM EDT



As an administrative assistant, I am imbued with all sorts of power. And with power comes responsibility. But I’ve failed you all, egregiously, in all sorts of ways. And mistakes from my past have come back to haunt me.

You see, back when I was the mayor of Trenton, I elected to not pursue the idea of building more convention centers or hotels. This has led to a room shortage, which is why I haven’t placed you in your first choice hotel.

It gets worse. When I was the Vice President of Logistics for JetBlue, I chose to route all flights through JFK airport. It pains me greatly that you now have to change planes at what is apparently your least favorite airport in America. Incidentally, I also invented the hub-and-spoke system, the very reason people have to change planes in the first place. I wish I’d made all flights, everywhere, nonstop. Because that would make you happy. And that’s reason enough to overhaul air travel all over America.

I know your new computer’s ship date was delayed. Oh, how I wish I’d spoken up about these issues when I was on the board at Dell. After I retired at age 25 with a handsome pension, I forgot all about enforcing delivery schedules.

And those rude technicians from the phone company? Yeah, that’s my fault, too. I used to be their supervisor back in the 80s, and I demoralized them to the point that they answer any question with the nonsense phrase, “plug and play” I also sent them on repeated fact-finding missions to the Soviet Union, where they learned about customer service.

And let’s not get into that time I murdered my clone. Because if there were two of me, I might potentially be able to get to everything I am asked to do in a typical day.

So these failures and catastrophes have brought me to where I am today. An underpaid, rapidly burning out secretary/den mother who wishes her charges would just grow the hell up already.

Riff to the Raff:
– Mantyhose & Guy Gowns http://living.msn.com/style-beauty/simply-chic-blog-post/?post=621d0363-3e25-4ecc-bfc0-107f09b5e324

GET FRENCHED:
– Get Drunk Spray! http://yhoo.it/Ko1tv5

INSULT OF THE WEEK:
This one goes out to…… Unnecessarily flamboyant gay people!

First thing I have to say to you… SHUT THE FUCK UP! I KNOW you’re gay. you don’t have to flaunt it. Talking like a valley girl with a speech impediment does not just happen after you step out of your cum stained closet. Talk like you’ve always talked before. I don’t care if daddy doesn’t love you anymore. You are not rebelling by dressing in lady clothes, you’re just obnoxiously pointing out something that no one else cares about. Not to mention we probably already knew about your little secret after that time you sucked the substitute teacher’s dick in the janitor’s closet. So go ahead and keep up your bible camp shenanigans, just act like a normal douche and be done with it. All in all… FUCK YOU!

NOSTRA-DUMBASS PROPHECIES:
Jerry-
Josh-

Plugs :

JERRY “Laughing Cow” JONES:

JOSH “Swampy Ass” MUSSER:

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-Facebook
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-Website

-Donate
-Tell Your Friends! cause we’re a cult
Outro:
Extrie Extrie!