God, I hate Wil. I've tried killing him so many times over the years, but this is probably the closest I've come. I still think if Gay Andy stuck to our original plan and backed into him--it would've done the trick.
Monday, May 12, 2008
dog urine on couch cushion
Looks like I'll be sleeping on the floor tonight.
Hopefully it's still wet in the morning so someone knows to clean it up.
Hopefully it's still wet in the morning so someone knows to clean it up.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Rejected Dudes
Roommate Dudes was removed from YouTube after just over 24 hours due to inappropriate content. What's so inappropriate about it? The fact that it shows two guys in the bathroom together? Now, the bigotry over at YouTube is what I find inappropriate. Homophobia is at an all-time high, folks, and pretty soon YouTube is going to round up 6 million gay men and women imprison them in camps and gas them to death.
DOWN WITH YOUTUBE!
ALL HAIL COLLEGEHUMOR.COM!
DOWN WITH YOUTUBE!
ALL HAIL COLLEGEHUMOR.COM!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Roommate Dudes
This l’il nugget of shit is the surprise video I unveiled after Bella Morte’s performance at The Haunt in Ithaca, NY two weeks ago. All you out-of-towners that couldn’t make it up to the show (and all you local shitbags that sat around grinding your pud into the carpet instead of going out) can finally see what all the fuss was about. Enjoy...
Friday, February 29, 2008
The infamous taint ring.
The aftermath of Pirate vs Wolfman on Planet X Episode #3:
If you're not listening to Pirate vs Wolfman by now, do yourself a favor and subscribe to it for free on iTunes, catch up on all the old episodes and anticipate the news ones. What other radio show has mayhem like this:
Make sense of it all by tuning in.
Episode #10 went up this morning, so check your iTunes or find it here.
If you're not listening to Pirate vs Wolfman by now, do yourself a favor and subscribe to it for free on iTunes, catch up on all the old episodes and anticipate the news ones. What other radio show has mayhem like this:
Make sense of it all by tuning in.
Episode #10 went up this morning, so check your iTunes or find it here.
Monday, December 10, 2007
the bear claw
It attacked me from behind, so to speak.
The buildup was fairly steady; there were no complications in the delivery, which was conveniently timed and effortlessly consummated; it had a soft, almost spongy texture and a subtle piquancy...yet, in its wake: a menacing formation...
...a bear claw.
Not to be confused with the pastry delight of the same name...this was more than some inanimate cluster with a coincidental likeness. I'd first believed this to be the gentle paw of some sort of aquatic bear, reaching out to tickle my clean-shaven ball sack...or then, perhaps lacerate it; as a savage, bloodthirsty beast would; and ostentatiously march it back to the darkened sewers of Horseheads from whence he came.
With irreplaceable (not to mention above average in both size and performance) assets dangling within his reach, I ultimately chose not to trust this unknown dweller of the deep and made a harsh, but instinctual move.
As you can see, he fought with every ounce of his life as I flushed the toilet. The claw marks left in the porcelain only hint at the potential damage that might've claimed my strapping (yet, given the circumstances: vulnerable) lady pleasurin' mega machine. Looking back, however...my genitals, ravishing as they are, should've been the least of my worries...for I might not have made it out of that Barnes & Noble bathroom alive. I was lucky.
I don't have any solutions to this problem, shall it surface again...as I, myself, have many questions left unanswered. My only advice for the next time you're squirtin' chunks is to keep one eye between the thighs...because you never know just when you'll have a close encounter of the turd kind.
The buildup was fairly steady; there were no complications in the delivery, which was conveniently timed and effortlessly consummated; it had a soft, almost spongy texture and a subtle piquancy...yet, in its wake: a menacing formation...
...a bear claw.
Not to be confused with the pastry delight of the same name...this was more than some inanimate cluster with a coincidental likeness. I'd first believed this to be the gentle paw of some sort of aquatic bear, reaching out to tickle my clean-shaven ball sack...or then, perhaps lacerate it; as a savage, bloodthirsty beast would; and ostentatiously march it back to the darkened sewers of Horseheads from whence he came.
With irreplaceable (not to mention above average in both size and performance) assets dangling within his reach, I ultimately chose not to trust this unknown dweller of the deep and made a harsh, but instinctual move.
As you can see, he fought with every ounce of his life as I flushed the toilet. The claw marks left in the porcelain only hint at the potential damage that might've claimed my strapping (yet, given the circumstances: vulnerable) lady pleasurin' mega machine. Looking back, however...my genitals, ravishing as they are, should've been the least of my worries...for I might not have made it out of that Barnes & Noble bathroom alive. I was lucky.
I don't have any solutions to this problem, shall it surface again...as I, myself, have many questions left unanswered. My only advice for the next time you're squirtin' chunks is to keep one eye between the thighs...because you never know just when you'll have a close encounter of the turd kind.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
six-word record reviews
Gwen Stefani The Sweet Escape
An elaborate prank on gullible retards?
Coheed and Cambria No World For Tomorrow
Impenetrable sex shield for husky virgins.
Kanye West Graduation
Black music for white douche bags.
My Chemical Romance Black Parade
A rock opera without AIDS? Gay.
Ashlee Simpson I Am Me
Art is dead. Fat chicks rejoice.
An elaborate prank on gullible retards?
Coheed and Cambria No World For Tomorrow
Impenetrable sex shield for husky virgins.
Kanye West Graduation
Black music for white douche bags.
My Chemical Romance Black Parade
A rock opera without AIDS? Gay.
Ashlee Simpson I Am Me
Art is dead. Fat chicks rejoice.
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