Archive for the ‘WTF’ category

Make a Left-Click at FUCK YOU!

October 15, 2009

Left Click at Fuck YouFirst and foremost…this post is dedicated to all the fucktards that click the link to my ‘Humans and Pitbulls’ post and go off on some wild ass tangent in the comments section. This post is a direct insult and major middle finger in the air to anyone that disobeys Rules #1 and #2 of the internet: “If you find something you don’t like, hit the ‘Back’ button and keep it moving!”

You wouldn’t believe how many hits I get on my ‘Pitbulls and Humans’ post on a daily basis. It is INSANE! It’s not even one of my favorite posts. But so many people love pitbulls that it must come up on a regular basis in search engine results. Who knew? What I don’t get is anyone without a functioning sense of humor. I’m not really angry. I don’t really care if you think this shit is funny. I don’t care if you think it’s offensive. NEWS FLASH ASSHOLES: This is not the only blog on the internet.

I could could conquer the world, and it would still elude me how natural selection hasn’t rendered you fuckers in a permanent coma or locked in a basement somewhere. In fact, you stumbling upon this blog, probably shares the probability of that lone retarded sperm fertilizing the most genetically challenged egg in your mother’s gravel pit of a vagina. I actually love that so many people hate the post becasue it’s reassuring that I will be near the top of the food chain for the rest of my life.

Surprise! It’s Someone Else’s Shit!

July 24, 2009

Have you ever gone to the bathroom with thoughts of a productive pooping session that gets shattered the moment you realize that you’ve been made an honorary janitor by the asshole that last used the can?  Of course, you have!  This is especially true when you’ve already dotted the ass end of your underwear with your poo quill.  Then, you’re forced to go through the laborious task of using single-ply toilet paper to sterilize a toilet like you’re the monkey cage cleaner at a zoo.  Then, you have people looking at you all crazy when you get back to your desk because you’ve been gone so long.  A productive poo down that includes everything from sending Facebook birthday wishes, updating twitter, texting the person you’re cheating with…whatever.  That all only takes about 20 minutes.  But if you’re not back for 45 because you had to grab a fucking Tyvek suit and rubber gloves, then you look like the perv that can’t wait to get home, or at least to the parking lot, to rub one out.  So, give me a break, you lazy chutney, chili, curry, carne esada, and chili cheeseburger eating fucks!  Clean the toilet so I don’t have to clean your doo doo residue with single-ply.  How do you not see that?!?!  What the fuck?  Seriously…what the fuck?

Time and Place IV…What About AIDS?

July 9, 2009

There’s a time and place for contests.  Now is neither the time, and the richest country in the world is not the place to hold a contest to see which group of nerds can get to space without government funding first!  The fact that two million dollars is at stake just makes my balls burn.  Who the hell cares if we can put more humans into space?  It’s been proven.  Try something new hippies! How about a race to cure AIDS.  How much would that prize be worth?  I’d be willing to personally donate at least one of my balls to the team that cures AIDS.  Is cancer also so far in the rearview mirror?  And what about the still incurable herpes, you low aiming sons of bitches?  The phrase ‘aim high’ is not a direct reference to space for all of your fucking aspirations.  Do you know how much professional athletes, actors, and politicians would pay to remove the stain of their past indiscretions?  Apparently, you absolutely do not, because you fucking nerds are trying to replicate technology that’s been in place for almost 50 years.  So, burn all of your Star Wars action figures until you do something useful with your advanced knowledge of whatever the fuck your 8 degrees entail.  Trust me, the world will be a much better place.

We Can See You

June 29, 2009

We Can See You

Hey, Roger Ebert!  Turn that fucking pen light off.  You’re ruining the climax of the movie for everyone.  Oh, you’re just a regular, paying customer like me?  And you’re not taking notes?  And that’s not a pen light, it’s your cell phone?  What the fuck, Douchey Smurf?  Did Gargamel infiltrate Smurf Headquarters?  If not, put that thing back in your damn pocket or step the fuck outside.  I can’t imagine where you had to grow up to think that shit’s not going to bother anyone.  Even worse, I can’t imagine how much attention your friends and family don’t give you for you to demand it from complete strangers by turning your fucking light saber of a phone on right before someone is about to get their shit rocked or every sensitive person in the theater is about to be brought to tears by the painstaking work of a master filmmaker.

And you aren’t in a cocoon of darkness, eagle eyes.  NOT ANYMORE!  Maybe you figured you would be the only one that could see it.  Did you feel like James Bond, covertly extracting your million dollar celly from the inside pocket of your $4000 tux?  Did Q give it to you with a stern warning to bring it back in one piece and a tutorial on how to instantly annoy the shit out of 200 people you don’t know?  If so, this would still be unacceptable behavior.  But you’re not a secret agent, and a picture of your buddy whacking it to pictures of your mom is not a national secret, no matter how fucked up it is.  So, check your twitter later, to which no one probably responds, and get a Netflix account.  We don’t like your kind at the movies.  Peek-a-boo, bitch!

The Stock Market

June 1, 2009

The Stock MarketRich men are technically not allowed to hunt poor men.  So, they devised a slightly more fucked up way to pass the time.  It’s a lot like gambling against the house in some posh ass casino in Monaco.  The kicker is they play with our money instead of using their own.  I mean, look at the recent trend in the markets.  Rich people fuck up, poor and semi-well off people give them money to continue fucking up or retire, and it all ends with the market up because rich people put their money back into it when it’s dirt ass cheap to invest.  It must be such a fucking rush, like doing a hybrid designer drug like cocashroomethstacy!

Not that I would know, but have you ever seen how excited Allen Greenspan and Warren Buffett look on a daily basis?  Must be the money.  You could do shit regular people never even think of like buying pairs of exotic cars and paying hookers to reenact episodes of 24.  Think about it.  Eventually, you’d get tired of making men fight to the death in your mansion’s ballroom for your kids’ entertainment?  And millions aren’t enough if you want a collection of servants from different countries or a bedroom set made of ivory and human souls.  That shit isn’t cheap!  You have to keep it fresher than a newborn’s innocence.  So, thanks, rich men around the world.  Without you, I wouldn’t have enough tears to masturbate with every time I check my 401k balance.

Your Doctor’s a Fuckin’ Snitch

May 19, 2009

Shhhhh-ut the fuck upATTENTION ALL DOCTORS: Shut the fuck up!  You’re supposed to be like a secret agent…emphasis on ‘SECRET’, fucker!  You should have to pass some sort of interrogation exam before getting your license.  I’m not saying you should be waterboarded, but you need to be able to keep that lipped zipped.  Comprende, muchacho?  It’s either that or I get a number for my records, and get to show up in a mask.  Your spouse or your ass on the side doesn’t need to know my shit comes out red no matter what I eat.

Would it not make run-ins outside the office a lot less awkward because you couldn’t tell anyone all the awkward shit about your patients.  I don’t really give a shit if you don’t use my name.  Just the fact that you could be a cold-hearted sack of shit and point me out to a friend makes me want to replace you with WebMD and a book on human anatomy.  I wouldn’t need to immediately flash to that moment when their cold ass hands were on my junk if I run into your ass at the farmers market because you’d have no idea it was me. Or what if I had a bit of an erection issue, you wouldn’t call me out to your entire table at a restaurant to make up for the fact that you’re a shitty parent.  Everybody wins!…except your kids.

Knock Offs

May 13, 2009

This is a serious issue, and I’m going to take it upon myself to bring it to light.  You are officially cheap as fuck and as shallow as a kiddie pool if you consistently buy knock offs.  Specifically, you’re so worried about looking good, that you sacrifice looking good by buying shit your dog wouldn’t wKnock Offsear.  So, I guess we should add stupid as fuck to the list of qualities you should want to remove from your repertoire.

I can count, motherfucker!  Don’t think you’re fooling anybody but yourself.  You spent $100 for something that usually cost $1000, and it looks like it’s worth $2 dollars.  However, it only costs 13 cents to produce.  So, your dumb ass is out of $99.87 you could have used to buy some decent shoes or a purse or whatever the fuck you’re too cheap to save for.  This is why the American economy sucks and the reason my kids will be homeschooled.  That is all!