WEE MODELS = BIG CRAZY

(click picture for larger view)

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I found this picture today and enjoyed it for scoring high in both creep and crazy.  I mean, where do you start?  It has helter-skelter written all over it - from the orange face right down to the part about playing games with the "wee" models.  That's awesome.  And you know that the guy who put the notice up is actually the guy who's doing it.  When I see things like this I like to pause and take a deep breath.  Insanity is so common that most of us don't even notice it; but there are times when you hit a particularly heavy patch that you can really get a wiff of it.  For me, it's a mix of mothballs and shit... then again, it could just be me farting on myself... but you get the idea.

FRIDAY'S BABE, BEER, AND A TUNE.

Well, Buckos, we made it through another week.  One step closer to spring.  I'm looking forward to living like a human being again instead of like some mole-man.  The sun hit my face two days ago and I had to scurry into a corner; and shield my eyes with the tattered rags I use for clothes while I'm burrowed under a dung heap for the the 9 months of winter here.

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First up, the babe.  It's an artsy fartsy photo of Eva Mendez in a Campri ad.  Now, I really have no idea what Campri is, but I'll buy anything she's gonna slather all over her legs... which it looks like she's gonna do in this pic.  Plus, it's about a million times more arousing to see how she, the dog, and the fireplace are so awesome and hot that the rest of the house got totally wiped out - and they're the last things standing!  I know how it is though: having sex appeal stronger than a hurricane is both a blessing and a curse. 

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Next up, the beer.  That would be the delicious-ey malt beverage I'm sampling right now: Sam Adams Boston Lager.  Nothing fancy here Buckos... just a nice hoppy brew that'll get me to a nice warm place after about 4 more.  It's a place I like to call "shit-tard-ville".

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This week's joint is a relaxing little ditty which I think compliments the beautiful ladies above.  It's called "Coming Home" by Alter Bridge.  Cheers Buckos!

http://www.youshare.com/view.php?file=05ComingHome.mp3

THE 48 LAWS OF POWER - PART 1

There was this kid in high school who used to try and burn the tip of my nose with his cigarette lighter every day at the lunch table.  He was one of those dudes who had a full beard by the time he was in 10th grade; and would make out in the hallway with the cute girl who I had a crush on since kindergarden.  Yeah, it was a magical time.  

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Soon after high school I took up boxing.  And after a few years of getting my ass kicked over and over by a Puerto Rican who worked at a bakery down the street, I decided to try destroying others in a more gentlemanly way - through graft and deceit.  And that's what led me to "The 48 Laws of Power" by Robert Greene.  It's a fancy little read about how to grind people into dust both morally and emotionally.  So far it's worked like a shiney friggin' charm.  I summarized the major points of the book in a slide show.  Here's the first part.  

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By the way, the kid who used to try and smoke my nose in high school... I saw him a few years ago.  He's bald and works at Radio Shack.  It was like a hug from the little baby Jesus.

TAXES HURT MY SPHINCTER.

So some fantastic news today from my local IRS office in Holtsville, NY.  My tax accountant messed up on my returns from a few years ago and I now owe an extra $1500.  So that's relaxing.  Really is.  Just like the time my cat tried to crawl up my leg and ended up hooking one of his claws in my left nut.  Except, with that, I had money left over to buy groceries.

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Funny little thing about taxes though.  You know that 'old wives tale' that says, "there's no law that requires you to pay taxes."  Well, there's something to it.  Just beware: challenging the IRS is like having a million cat's claws hook into your junk.  I'm just saying.  

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A warning about this video: wear old clothes when you watch it... it made me piss and shit myself, and ruin a perfectly spiffy pair of corduroy pants.  True story.

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   AMERICA: FREEDOM TO FASCISM (part 1 of 12)

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ps - the rest of the series is posted on YouTube.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENTS... BY RICKY BOBBY.

And that's "one to grow on" Buckos.

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PEOPLE I DON'T WANT TO HANG OUT WITH.

So it's Monday night and I'm just doing my usual browsing of gang photos.  I get a perverted sense of amusement thinking how uncomfortable I'd be if I were dropped right in the middle of these pictures.  I'd be forced to fall back on my wit and charm.  And while I'm the wittiest, charm-iest fellow you're ever gonna meet I have a bad feeling it would mostly be lost on these dudes - especially the maniac pointing the gun at the camera (wrapped in the purple bandana).  So that's why I carry a few tubes of glitter with me where ever I go.  The way I figure it, tossing all that sparkley goodness into the air will simulate some kind of "bling" storm that will create a shock-and-awe effect on the bandits.  And that, Buckos, will give me all the time I need to high step it right the f*ck out of there.  I'd probably cream the old drawers but it wouldn't be the first time and probably won't be the last, if you know what I mean.

CHRIST, I MISS THE 80s.

You know, I see pictures like this and I miss the 1980s.  And this picture pretty much sums it up.  I mean, these guys got up and got dressed for this picture, and were trying to look as bad-ass as possible.  It's ironic that almost 30 years later they look the absolute opposite.  The fake leather, the mullets, the skinny tie, the boce-ified looks.  Yeah, it's magic.  It's friggin' magic.