TOP 5 SEXY SNOW WHITES.

Ok, I'll admit it.  I'm a big fan of Snow White.  It's true. But not the Walt Disney version.  I like the sexed up version of Snow White.  After 4 1/2 years of therapy the only explanation me and my "team" of experts can come up with is that I'm short - like a dwarf - and I have some kind of Oedipus complex.  I don't even know what the Oedipus thing is but it kind of pisses me off a little.  I mean, I should have known I'd hear some crapola like that when I first walked into my psychologists office and saw he had a surf board mounted on the wall behind his desk.  As like some kind of decoration.  Who does that?  Seriously?  

Red thigh-highs... sapping.. my... strength...

Say 'hello' to my little dwarf.

Holy bows Batman!  Hope they're slip-knots.

She comes with Apple's Extended Care Plan.

I'll eat the poison apple!  I'll eat the poison apple!

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MOTIVATIONAL POSTERS.

Sweet greetings you beautiful bastards.  We all need a little motivation sometimes.  For me it's usually at the the end of the month when I haven't reached my quota for banging hot babes... that's when I know I have to crank up the old wang action.  So tonight I thought I'd feature a few motivational posters... er... yeah, I guess you could call them motivational.  Or retarded.  So either motivational or retarded are the choices.  Funny how those two things are often intertwined.

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AUTOMATIC ONLINE MONEY MANAGEMENT.

Say hey Buckos.  Tonight I'm reviewing the website Mint.com.  It's a free online service that will compile all your financial data automatically; and then put it in reports showing transactions, spending trends, and "ways to save."  It's a great service for me because I tend to avoid looking at my financial situation in detail - it usually sends me into swirls of depression and terrific fits of incontinence.  The catch: you have to provide them with access to all your accounts.  That means giving them your checking account number, your ATM pin number, your credit card numbers, etc.  The pucker factor with doing something like this is about 4000 on a scale from 1 to 10.  So, being the canary in the coal mine, I did all this about 2 weeks ago to see how it would work.  Would it track my finances or would my accounts get drained by some some pimply virgin living in Zimbabwe or some shit?  So what happened.... ?

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It's been over two weeks and the service has worked great.  I've checked my bank and credit card daily for suspicious transactions and there hasn't been any.  If they were going to take my cash I imagine they would have done that almost immediately.  Their analysis showed me spending almost $200 on "kids/education" - and I don't have any kids!  So there's one area I can make some righteous savings right there!  Lastly, it's given me "ways to save."  Some things are credit cards with a lower interest rates and checking accounts that earn interest.  You can sign up for these suggested services right on their site.  My only suggestion here is to read the fine print because some of the special offers they give you go down the old poop chute if you don't follow their directions to the letter.

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My final verdict is a thumbs up - if you have the cajones to enter all your personal financial information.  Which I, of course, do.  Plenty of cajones on this side of the screen Buckos!  

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LESSONS IN BEING A REAL MAN - PART 1.

Howdy Ho Buckos.  Tonight we're looking at increasing our manhood a little.  Let's face it, modern society has most of us pretty pansy-ified.  Four hundred years ago men were fighting each other with swords and battle axes.  Fast forward to modern day when the closest many of us get to that is a little bit of road rage against the senior citizen who's driving 10mph below the posted limit.  Fortunately, I've been able to stay in touch with my primordial machoness through exhaustive nun-chuck training and banging hot chicks.  So follow me my Buckos, into the valley of testosterone and steel gonads; for the first in the "Man Series" - a re-education of what it means to be a red-blooded, blue-balled man. 

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OUR BUDDY IS BACK.

Yeah, this crazy bastard is back.  I posted another picture of him trying to blow off his weenis.  I dunno... I'm going to go out on a limb and say he's single.  It's a little hard for me to relate since I'm so devilishly handsome and sincere.  Can someone please get this guy out of his house before he uses all the automatic weapons he's stock piling.  You know, out for a coffee or something - but be sure to make it a decaf for chrissakes.

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FRIDAY'S BABE, BEER, AND A TUNE.

Salutes and salutations my rag-tag chicken army.  Let's fire up the boobs!

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Boobs and ballet go together like carpentry and anal-fisting but I went with tonight's babe anyway: former ballerina Lisa Marie Scott.  She was Playboy's Playmate of the Month in February 1995 which, ironically enough, is the same month and year my balls dropped... coincidence?  Anyway, she went on to graduate Summa Cum Laude from UCLA.  Now I'm not sure what "summa" and "laude" mean but I'm pretty sure about that middle word; and after seeing some of these other pictures I'd say it's time for a beer.

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I'm not usually a fan of the newest Big-Brewery-Ice-Roadhouse-Light Lo-Carb-in-a-hemp-lined-can beer.  But, like the first monkey strapped to a rocket and shot into the cold death of space - I have adventure in my heart goddammit... and someone recommended it to me.

I'll just cut to the chase: if you've ever drank seltzer water that's had a piece of iron soaking in it for about a week to ten days you already know what this grog is packing.  Beer Advocate rates is a D+ - "avoid" - based on 105 reviews.

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The musical notes in the keys of C and E-flat emanating from my sphincter today have inspired tonight's musical selection.  It's "Inhale" from Edgewater.  Oh, and before I link to the song I'm including a bonus picture of tonight's babe.  Because I love you maniacs who suckle the WTCCTR teat.  Stay classy Buckos!

"Inhale" by Edgewater

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WAIT... SMELL MY WHAT???

About every 10 to 15 days something will confirm I'm pretty much right on track with my thinking.  Politics, religion, culture, thongs... I'm scary in touch with all that shit.  So when I see a video like the one posted below it's like a familiar tap on the shoulder from God and he says, 'Right again kid.'  This time I happen to be right about rap, and urban culture in general (e.g., baggy jeans, cockeyed baseball caps, ebonics).  Mainly, that's it's a bunch of ridiculous crap - a "wack" banana peel under the foot of America.  Check out the first minute or so of the video just to get the idea because watching the whole thing has been shown to induce severe mental assification.

Now, if someone held a gun to my head and threatened to steal my penis if I didn't listen to a rap tune I could make it through this without completely ruining my underpants.

So, yo, what it do my bitches.... *cough*... I mean, stay strong Buckos!

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TOP 5 FRENCH MAIDS.

Even though they're cowards the French have made some pretty nifty contributions to culture: toast, fries, dressing and - the greatest one of all - the French maid.  Oh sweet Mary yes... for they are one of the most developed life forms on our planet; a perfect combination of form and function.  Seriously.  How many things in this life get your apartment clean and get your gut stick to stand on it's tippy toes.

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So I rummaged through the internet to find the five best pictures of French maids.  And by "best" I mean boner-riffic.  I wish I could dust with my dong.

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I like to call this one, "Helga waits for permission."  Don't ask me why but it sounds good and dirty... get it?!?  She's a maid... it's dirty.... uh... ok... moving on... 

It would take me a solid week to climb up this woman's legs... and frolic in the lush valley called poodie-tang.

Awww... she forgot her duster.  'Dang you, you little scamp.'

Is it me or are those shoes reminiscent of a fairy tale... from a beautiful, lusty, premature ejaculatory childhood.

I'm kind of like the Crocodile Dundee of cleavage - it speaks to me.  And this cleavage says, "Oui.  Oui... you chicken choking bastard."  'Yes' and 'please' and 'thank you.'  

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FUNNY 911 - I NEED A ... BAMBULANCE?

This is an old 911 call... but it tickles me every time.  Now, I'm not sure what a bambulance is but I'm positive that this guy f*ing needs one.  And, like Shakespeare, he goes on to ask the timeless question: who gets the deer... him or the dog?  Get you some bambulance and deer my hard workin' brother.  Buckle up Buckos!

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I MISS THE MAN SHOW.

I'm not sure how many of you guys out there remember The Man Show (with Jimmy Kimmel and Adam Carolla).  It was on from 1999-2003 and it was f*ing awesome.  The show was, in a nutshell, about boobs, beer, and practical jokes.  But like most things it got too good and so it had to be destroyed.  Utterly and completely.  Kimmel and Carolla both went on to watered-down shows of their own with watered down jokes and boring talk-show interviews.  They probably got big paydays but - sweet Fanny Adams - can't they just pay 'em more to do the same show?  Why is that a dumb idea?  I'm assuming it's a dumb idea because TV executives get paid a lot more than I do to make those decisions... and in America the people who get paid more are smarter.  I think it's in the Constitution...  I'm pretty sure it is.  Or in the Declaration of Independence... or the Louisiana Purchase... or some old timey document like that.

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Here's a clip from the show where they dressed up like pilots and went to the airport blast-assed drunk.  Bottoms up Buckos!

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DOUBLE YOUR GAS MILEAGE.

The gas situation shows no sign of moving out of the "retarded" zone so today is another post on how to get the the most our of Mr. Gas pump (earlier post is here). As many of you know, I'm a crafty and fanciful gentleman so I'll be tackling the problem from both ends - the head and the ass... er... rear.... er... you know what I mean.

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First, getting the cheapest gas in your area.  For this you can go to GasBuddy.com.  Type in your zip code and the prices for your area come up.  But a nifty little side feature to the site is that people who submit price changes in their area will earn points for accurate claims. You can then cash in points for prizes such as free gas cards or a chance to win an electric car.  I haven't heard of a deal that sweet since I got a free plastic rain parka from Marlboro for puffing down eight packs of smokes.  

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The ass end of my strategy involves some simple tips shown in this video.  Try to ignore the fact that it's sponsored by Saab.  My very first car was a Saab and I mostly just pushed it from one service station to another... so the Saab logo induces violent convulsions in me.  In fact, I've just settled down again and am looking for my other shoe - I seized that fucker right off.  Even if you don't care about the mileage part, the chick has some low mileage looks if you know what I mean... those Swedish cowards at Saab aren't complete idiots.  Anyway, I'm going to try all these tips and report back in two weeks.  In the meantime, pump on Buckos!

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PRETTY BOY VS. TURD.

I don't know about you squirrely bastards, but I love violence.  Organized violence, that is.  And tonight is the UFC 83 on pay-per-view.  I'm not going to give a lecture explaining mixed martial arts except to say that it rates extremely high on the awesomeness index.  And tonight's main fight matches the rugged, athletic, gracious favorite - George St. Pierre - against the foul-mouthed, short, shit-sucking ghetto opponent - Matt Serra.  And I'd give my left testicle and most of both nipples to see Serra win.  Why?  Because pretty boys always win.  They always get the girl.  They always come out on top.  And any time someone can toss a turd in their eye or flick a booger on their face - that's the guy I'm rooting for.  

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They fought once before and Serra won, believe it or not.  But tonight he's still the underdog.  No really good reason except that Serra is a monster turd.  So here's rooting for the turd!  You're my guy!  In fact, I fancy myself to be quite the turd.  

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Anyway, below is a post of the *end* of their first fight.  It's like a hug from the baby jesus.  It is.

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FRIDAY'S BABE, BEER, AND A TUNE.

Salutations my beautiful bitches.  It's Friday.  I don't know about you but, in my book, Friday's mean suds, sex, and whammy bars.  So...

The babe tonight is Rachelle Leah.  She's done a lot of work as a spokesmodel for the UFC, and has gotten pretty popular since then.  I've had a hard time putting my finger on why that is but I'm sure it has something to do with black leather bikinis.  Funny thing about this picture of her - it's kind of an optical illusion.  If you stare at the picture long enough you'll see a tiger in the background.  I haven't been able to get it to work yet but maybe you'll have better luck.

Tonight's malty wonderland is Magic Hat No. 9.  I haven't been too enthusiastic to try the Magic Hat brews because any use of wizardry or witchcraft on the most perfect beverage ever made seems a little unnatural to me.  But I gargled a little holy water, high-fived a nun (at least that's what she told me before she started grabbin' at my bean tosser), and cracked the cap.  It was a smooth beer that left little after taste.  But, you know, it's a beer.  Unless someone can pull a goddam rabbit or some shit out of the empty bottle I don't see what's so magical.  But when I took a piss afterwards little butterflies came out.. so that made me feel special.  Beer Advocate rates this beer a "B" (good) based on 604 reviews.

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Now that we're all titillated and buzzed it's time to toke up the tune.  It's called "Ordinary" by The Buzzhorn. Don't pay any attention to the title because this song is like spanish fly... but music.  So give it a listen.  Just make sure you have the love napkins (aka, Kleenex) standing by.  Smell you later Bucko!

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"Ordinary"

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LET'S GET JERKY WITH THE DILITHIUM CRYSTALS.

Abbot and Costello.  Peanut butter and jelly.  Guns and whiskey.  Sex and violence.  Some things just go great together.  And another great duo: prank calls and Star Trek.  The Jerky Boys prank call a mining company and ask about digging up some dilithium crystals in Manhattan.  But what they're really digging up is comedy gold.  Gold I tell ya!  Oh yeah, and as a bonus, I'm throwing in another Tom Mabe prank call on a telemarketer... because I'm good to you like a supple teat to a baby.  Ok Buckos... buckle up for funny!

Jerky Boys Mining Call

Tom Mabe Telemarketer

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THE COST OF GETTING LAID.

Sex.  We all pay for it.  Single, married, dating or time, money, and tears... we all pay... for the love of the sweet swinging christ.  One time I even had to arm wrestle a guy and kick the shit out of a bunch of chickens just to get the chance to take a girl on a date.  It was at a kind of weird time in my life when I was living on an indian reservation with a bunch of Hell's Angels... but that's a whole other story.

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Anyway, the web site is here: Cost Of Sex.  It will figure out the cost of taking a trip around the old parsley patch with your wife, girlfriend; or that maniac with a vagina you were sweet talking last Saturday.  Ok Buckos!  Prepare to have those boners annihilated!

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TAXES HURT MY SPHINCTER - PART 3.

Today being tax day or, as i like to call it, "Cornhole Tuesday", I thought I'd continue the series "America: Freedom to Fascism".  It's an 11 part series on YouTube that sets out asking the question, 'Is there a law requiring us to pay income taxes?'  I don't want to ruin the ending but I will say the shock of it made me severely incontinent for days.  I eventually regained sphincter control but not before ruining 3 pairs of goddam spiffy trousers, 2 pairs of socks, 1 right shoe, and a baseball cap (<-- that was a weird day).  Yeah, it was explosive.  If they'd made mud flaps for human assholes I would have been one happy clown-holed dungranger.  But I've soldiered on since then and now I wear my rectum-riffic excesses as a badge of courage - a fecal warrior fighting injustice in a madcap world.

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THE REAL COST OF WAR.

Howdy ho Buckos!  I'm back!  I rolled back into town last night with a heart full of courage and a fresh case of genital warts, ready to tackle the week.  But when I woke up this morning I had a horrible realization: taxes are due.  And if any of you read my blog regularly, you know that taxes hurt my sphincter.  So in celebration of tomorrow being tax day I thought we'd celebrate by seeing where some of our hard earned dollars are going.  

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That's right you beautiful ass clown... it's the cost of the war in Iraq... in real time.  Relaxing isn't it?  I just like to watch while dip my paper cuts in bleach and bang my nuts with a hardcover book.  To put this number in perspective, it's about $341 million per day; or $1721 per person.  So be sure to get out and pay your taxes tomorrow; so we can afford another 12 seconds fighting towel heads in an oil soaked sandbox.  If you really want to get into it a little more go here.

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By the way, that picture above... the soldier has become pretty well known and labeled as "The Marlboro Marine."  If you want to hear his story and see the real cost of war, check out this video.

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FRIDAY'S BABE, BEER, AND A TUNE.

"I'm thirsty!  I'm randy!  And I want to shake a tailfeather!"  If this is you Bucko, you've come to the right place.  Yessirreebob.

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The babe this week is Jo Garcia.  She's Playboy's Cyber Girl of the Year for 2008 (whatever that means).  She was born right here in good old taxed-to-the-teeth New York.  So that means she's hot and can severely break her foot off in your ass if she has to.  For more "fun" pictures of Jo click here.

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Ok, enough of the happy horseshit.  The beer.  St. Pauli Girl is a brew I haven't had since I was getting beat up for my lunch money... so I'm nostalgic about it.  However, having it again so many years later made me wonder what the hell I was nostalgic about.  It kind of tasted like yellow water.  The best part of it was looking at the cartoon girl on the label.  And don't pretend like you haven't gotten turned on by a cartoon before.  Hell, I even thought Bugs Bunny was kind of sexy when he dressed up as a girl bunny to fool Elmer Fudd.  Anyway, good old Beer Advocate agrees with me.  They rate this Pauli chick a "C" (mediocre) based on 233 reviews.

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Almost done Buckos.  We're up to the musical portion of our program.  On deck tonight is "Caught In The Rain" by Revis.  Not only is it a nifty little number but it celebrates the continuous rainfall we get in April in New York.  Yeah, it's great.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I think my dingy is floating off.  And I can't find my boat either.

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"Caught In The Rain"

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Programming note: I have to get out of town for a few days... gotta lay low.  I had a picture of Mohammed painted on the hood of my car and the Muslim community is giving me a hard time.  I don't know what the big deal is... it's not even the prophet Mohammed.  It's a picture of my buddy Mohammed Dingman.  Cripes these religiousey types are sensitive.  ANYWAY, I won't be updating the site again until MONDAY.  In the meantime, face east and have a pork-free weekend you crazy bastards!

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WHERE'S YOUR GOD NOW?

Kind of tired after a long day of choking chickens, so I'll keep this short.  I liked this pic because it's a big 'suck it' to that sadistic kid with the ant farm... er... I mean God.  Stay fruity Buckos!

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HOME SWEET MOTHERF**KING HOME.

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GHETTO PROM

I'll apologize in advance - the following pictures are old. They've been bouncing around the internet for at least a few years. But I ran across them again a few days ago and it was just like the first time: the butterflies in the stomach, the pageantry, the innocence of youth, the silky fervitude of my first prom dress. It's was all a bit overwhelming really. So I had to post them again here. All the young jeezies out there should see what it means to be young with a beautiful, demure damsel on your arm, and a big bright future ahead of you... oh... and what's it like to be big pimpin'. Time to get our prom on Buckoz!

The arrival.

Note the red... plastic... er... carpet.

Pose, you photo-riffic maniacs.

The white guys blend in like Ronald McDonald in a North Korean POW camp.

And for dessert...

Drink it in Buckos.

Oh yeah, it's happening.

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