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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