We’re home to some of the stupidest products in the galaxy. You know that guy with the beard that was
clearly repainted with black spray paint yelling at you? Literally yelling through the TV into your face to buy shit…
(I have a good place for those 2 thumbs Billy)
Yeah, that’s the ass-hammock! His name is Billy Mays, but that’s not important, because I just found
something even dumber than all that silly shit he sells combined. It’s something called “butt-cleavage underwear”…
You heard me; don’t pretend I didn’t say it…
(I didn’t even know I was supposed to be spending so much
time back here)
First woman had bikini style, then the thong, now this. I personally think they’re just running out
of ideas. If a girl is wearing these, now I’m thinking she wants it’s in the #2 hole. Why else would
she want me to take notice of her ASS CLEAVAGE? Now I must confess, I’m a breast man(Done in the voice
of Daniel Plainview from There Will Be Blood). Even if I was an assman, that’s not hot. Women
don’t all look like top models. They look like this…
(Mud-flaps should be heard & not seen)
Take a peek at that dandy fart locker on the right. If those panties could talk, they’d say, “Stop”.
Not so “accented” now is it? It’s just opulently odd, painful, & needless. Are these simply for people
with massive flatulence problems who previously had skid marks? That’d make more sense to me…
So for all those loud barking carnival turds on TV shouting at me to buy the next must have cleaning
solution/handy switch/puddy/Chia-pet, or new products that don’t make our lives better or simpler, this
throat punch is for you…
March 2008-June 2008
Hillary Clinton, Terry McAuliffe, Harold Ickes, & Lanny Davis are shape shifting, shit flinging,
(With that wry look of “Blow it out your ass America”, she does have the “crazy eyes” down pat)
These people are so far off the planet in terms of reality, they could have their own colony on
Jupiter for all we know. Whatever they’re smoking, count me in, cause it’s gotta be amazing shit.
It’s the kind of weed you smoke and suddenly think you can instantly play the drums for Yellowcard,
or perform open surgery on the pope with no medical training.
There latest pile of mind bindingly sick bullshit is now this. They want to take it to the convention.
I thought, “based on what”? She doesn’t have the popular vote, she is loosing 17,916,838 to Obama’s
17,961,505. She is loosing the pledge delegate count 1,916 to Obama’s 2,072. She is loosing the super
delegate count 292, to Obama’s 331. Then I remembered, like this entire campaign, it’s not based on
anything in reality. It’s based on HER own personal reality.
Well here’s the deal Hillary. You’ve worn out your welcome at our party, so we’re calling the cops
(Super Delegates), to have you forcefully removed. Normally we don’t have to do this, but since you
have the political tact of bear mauling a family of handicapped people in wheelchairs, it’s time we
“tranqed” you. After Tuesday June 3rd, the writing will be on the wall. This has nothing to do with
you being a woman; it has to do with being a shitty American and not giving two shits about your party.
We especially like the stalling, lying, spinning, cheating, lying some more, changing the rules, lying,
then telling ever other rational adults they’re all misogynists. Thanks for the free entertainment,
but it won’t work anymore.
Now please get the fuck out of the way, we have an election to win this November and take our country back!!!
To Hillary, Billary, Terry McAuliffe, Harold Ickes, Lanny Davis, & legions of other uber Nazi feminists
threatening to “vote McCain if she’s not the nominee”, this throat punch is for you…
Sorry if I hit any of the trannies’s in the Adams apple…I should know better…
If one more person mentions Heath Leger as if they were
personal friends with him, I’m going to slap a stamp on their head, shove them
in a mailbox, and send them to “DiscoBatShitCrazyLand”. That way, they can actually
become friends with Lindsay Lohan.
(For a Joker, he doesn’t seem funny)
It was sad. An accident. A tragedy. I watched some coverage
of it on numerous channels, and the reporters/PR people all said the same
thing. “We’ll always wonder all the other
great movies he could of made”. Really? Is THAT what “we’ll” always wonder?
Huh. Silly me, I was thinking “wow, that must be horrible for his wife and
daughter who lost a father and a husband.” But nooooooooooooo, let’s
make it all about us and what we might loose at the movies! The
reality is celebrities are human beings. In death, they become more like us,
more human, vulnerable, real. Rather than celebrate a life, or point out the
simple stark tragedy of it all, let’s make a fucked up Heath Leger video
montage of film clips he was in.
Nice to know, someone at CNN spent the entire day quickly
shoving his film clips together to sad music so they could be dramatically
timely in his death. A year from now, no one will talk about it, but his wife,
and kid will remember. They’ll never forget. The media’s like a hooker at the
Red Roof Inn. When their done, they put out their cigarette, pull up their
pants, collect their money, give you wave, and are out the door. Call the media
a whore and watch them cry “how dare you” while blowing an elected senator
right before a piece smearing them airs.
Big network media coverage, this throat punch is for you…
November 2007-January 2008
Why do I even bother? It’s obvious I’m not remotely committed
to this section of my site. Maybe it’s the masochist in me that keep going. You
guys must feel like I’m the stupid neighbor trying to move heavy, expensive
furniture by myself and dropping everything.
Armoire. BAM! Oak table. CRASH! Baby grand piano. KER-THUD!
I’m not a quitter, but maybe for your sake, I should at least think about it.
Trick or treat! Trick. There’s still nothing here because
I’m such a tool I should have Craftsman tattooed on my ass.
May 2007-September 2007
What can I say? I got really fucking lazy doing shows all summer.
Here’s a picture of OJ fisting a glove! Ahhh, memories. Write your own caption.
Now back to being lazy…
Joey Crawford is insane. There I said it. Now, many of you are asking this important question.
Who the fuck IS Joey Crawford and why do I care?
(Hint, he’s the not-black guy)
I don’t watch the NBA a lot, can’t “get rim” without the help of a folding chair, & thought a “shot
clock” had something to do with drinking. But I do know: referees shouldn’t give two
technical fouls & eject a player in an NBA game for laughing. What’s next, giving someone a technical for
“thinking” of committing a foul? The others players on the Spurs should of stood up, & started chanting
“Attica, Attica, Attica!!!”
According to league insiders, Joey has given more T’s (fancy schmancy term for technical foul) than a
cheerleader at Taft Transit Tech. He has carpel tunnel from making the motion. He was forced to attend anger
management classes, which worked about as well as rehab for **insert current celebrity dunderfuck dealing
with addiction here**.
Don’t think for a second the irony was lost on me of chastising Joey for anger issues then wanting to
throat punch him…I figure, that’s why I’m not an NBA ref. I’d say something really stupid so they’d weed
me out in the screening process, because if I was an NBA ref; I’d give people
stickers for really good shots. I’d ask for autographs during awkwardly intense finals game before a free
throw. I’d call a foul, & then do the worm over to the scorer’s table. I’d make a shitty ref. I’d stick
out like the tounge of a grade school smart-ass.
Joey. Listen buddy. Come here. Maybe mom and dad didn’t hug you enough, or say you’re special. Well
I’m here to tell you that you are!
**Joey blows his whistle calling a technical on John**
Oh well Joe, anger is what you understand; anger is what cha get…this throat punch is for you…
On March 2nd, 2007, THIS was the #1 movie in America…
Proving once again…we’ve got way too many fucktards in this country with disposable income. Hell, my
IQ dropped 80 points just looking at the poster. Now all I do is shuffle around the house like a zombie
in a bath robe, drooling, scratching my balls with a wire hanger, & farting loudly while talking to telemarketers
who I think are friends.
Here’s the premises…how about we get one legitimate actor from Steppenwolf, two washed up ex-TV sitcom stars
from the early 90’s(One who’s done nothing since Bad Boys, and the other who just did Santa Clause 3-The Escape
the Clause which was so shitty it made shit smell LESS shitty), & a wack-job Scientologist who believes Xenu and
his Galactic Confederacy, 75 million years ago, brought billions of people to Earth in spacecraft resembling Douglas
DC-8 airliners, stacked them around volcanoes & blew them up with hydrogen bombs. Add some motorcycles, a mid-life
crisis, suburbia, & BAM!
WACKY ADVENTURES ENSUE!!!
How could this not be great?!?!?!?!? I loved this film so much, I bought a leather jacket, a Harley, & started
my own suburban biker gang. We’re called “Wilder Hogs”. We don’t have a black friend; so
we panted Eric to be like the movie. If another gang comes along named “Wildest Hogs”…you can bet we’ll tangle.
How about this Hollywood, if you agree to stop churning out this crap, I’ll agree to stop making fun of you?
That’s fair right? The bad news is, as long as people make crap like this #1 at the box office, they won’t. The
good news is I’ll always have fresh material!
For your abuse of simple-minded morons using inane plots, stock characters, & $10 ticket prices. Hollywood is
no better than a three card Monty dealer on the street, moving cards really fast, cheating, & taking peoples money.
I swear to baby Jesus holding a hand grenade if you come out with another sequel to a film that everyone hated in
the first place(The Hills Have Eye II, Hostel II, Mr. Beans Holiday(Mr. Bean II), Dr. Doolittle II, Norbit II, &
Dukes of Hazard II; I’m looking in your direction)…I’ll slug ya in the meatball bag. For your groins sake, you better
hope this if this throat punch takes…
He’s short, he’s quick, he’s from Chicago…oh yeah, and he’s super mega disco crazy homophobic!
(The only balls he’ll ever handle are his own)
What did Tim say when asked on Dan Le Batard Miami radio show how he would deal with a gay
teammate? Oh yeah, "First of all, I wouldn’t want him on my team. Second of all, if he was on
my team I would really distance myself from him because I don’t think that’s right and I don’t
think he should be in the locker room when we’re in the locker room.” Really? Let’s say he averaged
30 points per game, 12 boards, 10 assists, & 7 steals. How about now? I’m straight, so if it was me,
in order to win a ring, dude could be pulling a “bj train” with the cast of the all male strip revue
“Thunder from Down under” right in front of my locker while I’m getting dressed & I wouldn’t give a
shit. Why? Because I DON’T CARE who you fuck if you’re going to put up those numbers. First off I
accept people for who they are. If you can’t, get off your lazy ass & walk away if you disagree
with a certain lifestyle. The issue has become about you, not them.
Then the host became critical of Tim’s remarks, labeling them as homophobic & bigoted. Hardaway
responded, "Well, you know, I hate gay people. I let it be known I don’t like gay people. I don’t like
to be around gay people. I’m homophobic. It shouldn’t be in the world, in the United States, I don’t
like it." Why so hateful of homosexuals Timmy? Do you think one of them is going to try to “tackle”
you and suck your dick in a Best Buy parking lot? Where did you learn tolerance from, a tub of stagnant
Clearly busted for bigotry, we ALL know what comes next. The meaningless, PR apology with all it’s
insincerity to solely save $ without addressing the content of his words. Hardaway apologized during a
telephone interview with Fox affiliate WSVN in Miami. "Yes, I regret it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said
I hate gay people or anything like that," he said. "That was my mistake." In an interview with Miami CBS
affiliate WFOR-TV on February 18, Hardaway again apologized for his comments, saying he "didn't mean" to
say that he hated gay people. "I don't hate gay people. I'm a good-hearted person. ... I respect people.
For me to say 'hate' was a bad word, and I didn't mean to use it." Yeah, it’s exactly like that one time
I called my boss a “stupid fucking nigger dyke”. I didn’t really mean anything by it. For me to say “nigger
dyke” is a bad word, and I didn’t mean to use it. I'm a good-hearted person…I respect people. Apparently
not “stupid fucking nigger dykes”…but people.
For your insane warped world views that few share(including the NBA who removed him from its All-Star
Weekend activities and other future appearances while David Stern released a statement explaining that "It
is inappropriate for him to be representing us given the disparity between his views and ours." and the CBA
Alleycats, owned by Trinity Sports, where CEO Demetrius Ford, added: "Effective immediately, Mr. Hardaway is
removed from the position of Trinity Sports’ Chief Basketball Operations Advisor, as well as all other duties
associated with the Company, its affiliates and subsidiaries."), your ass backwards take on a reality that’s
rooted in bigotry which you should be condemning but are instead promoting, and that one jumper you hit to beat
the Bulls a while back…this throat punch is for you…
Two words that instantly put me to sleep. Al Gore. It’s not his fault, it’s that shitacular voice of his that
makes me sleepy. An Incontinent Truth was a great film. But why did HE have to be in IT? Put ANYONE else in that
and I’m glued to it. Hell, I’d listen to Eddie Griffin before Gore, and that no talent fartfactory makes me want
to rupture my eardrums…
(Up high my grease brother!)
Al Gore. More like Al BOAR…
I just want to grab the flab on his neck with both my hands, shake it, and yell, “Hya, giddy up…let’s drive
this stupid old timey head of yours to Les Be Fun Land”. He makes reading the bible from cover to cover seem
interesting. I’d rather play UNO with a coma patient. He’s stiffer than a guy who just popped 7 Viagra…
Jeeeeeeezzz, loosen up buddy. Well Al, for your amazing film that half of America should of watched but didn’t
cause you’re drier than a martini made with sand, for your inability to gracefully fade away after your time is up,
your sing-song voice that is the single reason for a string of mass suicides, across America, this throat punch is
Your jowls engulfed my hand…can I have it back?
This is the most horrific thing in the known universe…
(This authentic Atlanta family presents a distinctive spin on entertainment for kids and
their parents though infectious pop songs with hip, retro aesthetic, and attractive healthy lifestyle messages.
Think The Flanders on crack.)
These colossal “Tard Jacks” are called Laughing Pizza…oh no, you haven’t even had
the full effect yet. Click here…
I laughed, then puked, then cried, then swore vengeance, and then laughed louder. I heard they were originally
called Billy, Lisa, and Emily Are Assholes...but marketing at Epic Records agreed it was
I actually bought their CD…just to take a shit on. The good news is, I came up with some other names the band
could of used:
Selling Your Soul
We're Fucking Stupid
Hate Me...Hate Us
Jerky Jerkenton & the Jerkettes
One of there songs is called Don’t Cry About Stuff. Here’s some lyrics, “Romeo & Juliet, they lost their love
and were quite upset…so we can cry cry cry, but don’t you cry about stuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuff”. How vague. What’s next,
a song called Something About Things?
For your creepy pseudo enslavement of a daughter, your husbands ability to wear clothes that make gay men look
straight, those silly satanic Mormon smiles, the bubble gummy garbage lyrics & singing, and your total emersion into
a singing family that makes the Brady Bunch seem like Motley Crue. This punch is for you
Kramer, Kramer, Kramer! It’s officially up there as the all time stupidest thing someone ever said. Please
tell me how this…
Well, everyone, I have a little formula for all you that explains everything. It goes like this:
Celebrity X Inability at Stand-up ± Being heckled
The rant Latent racism comedy
He’s not a good stand-up comedian. It’s no big deal. People and club owners assumed he was a quality stand-up
because he’s a funny character on a TV show. News flash, he got a room full of writers who help him be funny.
Being a comedian is totally different. You write you own stuff(most of the time), perform in front of people live,
and are used to people shouting things out. Shit, that happens in every club across America. Now, he works in front
of a camera where he’s in control, can do a retake, and audience members don’t shout things out during taping.
This just tells me he hasn’t worked much in stand-up and he’s not a comedian. Expecting him to be a great stand-up
would be like me walking into a Dentist with a severed leg bleeding everywhere and asking him to reattach it. When he
can’t, I shouldn’t act all surprised…
For shaming Seinfeld, for your ignorant racist views come to light, for your inability to understand the craft of
stand-up comedy, for needlessly attempting to suck 5 more minutes from your 15, and your weak-assed deer in the
headlights confusing apology on Letterman. This punch is for you
This one is from pacifist Dr. Martin Luther King…
His mind rotten? Fame ill begotten? Still on Oxycontin™? From radio he’ll be trottin’?” This turd should just be
flushed, then forgotten!
(Never before have I seen such an unfunny, pompous, factually incorrect, self-serving douche bag.
Wait, I saw Denis Miller two years ago)
President of pomposity at large, Rush Limbaugh, has decided to mock another human being for having, now get this,
Parkinson’s! Forget this person really has the disease, and forget that he’s the lovable Michael J. Fox, AKA Alex P. Keaton.
I kind of thought that since he played a v-neck swear wearing Regan loving Republican on the show, and campaigned for both
parties, Rush would actually like him. Not the case. You all know the story by now, but here’s the clip
“He is exaggerating the effects of the disease. He is moving all around and shaking…and it’s purely an act” **While
saying this Rush is twitching and flapping his arms to mock Mr. Fox’s movements**
Exaggerating? Oh yeah, I forgot the time my friend Gordon exaggerated the effects of cancer by dying. What a jerk.
He was so committed to the whole “death” thing we had a funeral, burial, and even a tombstone. I hate when people act
For the rest of us on this planet, we all understand Rush isn’t acting like a man with his head up his own ass. He
IS a man with his head up his own ass. Finally his audience has become what we always thought it was, one giant asshole.
Smoke your cigar, sit in your doublewide chair with your triple-wide ass, and tell the world Mr. Fox is faking. Congratulations,
you just picked on the crippled kid in the wheel chair. Bravo! I heard you’re planning even funnier bits like throwing every
kitten of the US into the ocean, followed by lighting senior homes on fire, and finally bringing down the house with a kick your
baby in the face day. Gems, all gems!
For your numbed inane chatter even a retarded child wouldn’t listen too, for your inability to understand the effects of a
disease you don’t have, your inability to listen to others, your phallic cigar sucking, your shirts all being made from 100%
Oxycontin™, and your dipshittednessly ironic gestures of Michael J. Fox which actually mirror your own ratings…spastically twitching
up & down…this punch is for you
Dear Lord, God, Jehovah, Buddha, Allah, Vishnu, cabbage head, or whatever it is you like to be called…please take this
“thing” off the air!
(It’s not Star Jones. It’s something worse and begging for a shoe to be inserted in that gaping vortex called a mouth…
quickly followed by three cheeseburgers, five orders of fries, and a vat of Crisco)
I don’t need to see this “thing” on a road trip, pumping gas, then commenting, “I haven’t pumped my own gas since 83”.
Ha ha ha, how incredibly witty. My guess is you haven’t wiped your own ass since 90, been the same weight three consecutive
months since 94, and should have been cancelled in 02.
I don’t hate Oprah people, I’m just sayin’ if she got hit by a bus…I’d root for the bus. I personally don’t think it
would even stand a chance against her wall of conceited fat walrus flesh. Only if the bus was a doublewide, filled with
copies of A Million Little Pieces, Tom Cruise, & cement. I’m no Physics major, I’m just saying…
She goes on to astutely say, “The pumps aren’t the same as they used to be”. They aren’t? I thought in 1983 gas stations
had old-timey looking men in overalls with a hat, straw in their mouth, and would pump your gas from a small old well in
the ground. Then they’d take a dirty rag out of their pocket for a forehead dab, tell you to avoid the camp at the top of
Make-Out-Hill where all those teens got murdered years back, point out Luanne’s Diner for the best apple pie, all while
Jed Clampett restocks his now lower crude supply.
(A befuddled Jed Clampett looks at Oprah trying to pump gas in total disgust. Mostly because it’s 1960,
the Deep South, and she’s black)
For your arrogant “Aw shucks everybody, I’m the same as you” attitude while making Zillions, that schlock magazine with
65% advertising that I wouldn’t even use to wipe a bums ass, your creepy cult of housewives who echo anything you say as
if it were their own thoughts like Satan’s minions, your asinine comment of “Welcome to the real world” after spending $129
to fill up your car when the rest of us have been in the real world the entire time, and your weight fluctuating more than
George Bush’s approval ratings. Orca, this throat punch is for you…
There are two words that make me involuntarily do a spit-take. Two words that give people an instant taste of puke in
their mouths. No, it’s not Del Taco, but stay with me. Two words that make little children ask, “Mommy, why did you use
the “c” word?”. Those two words are…Ann Coulter.
(In fairness, the two girls didn’t have much choice when “idols” were handed out. It was either Coulter,
their unemployed drunk fathers who shoot at tin cans, and creep into their bedrooms late at night, or the cable guy who
scratches his nuts with a screwdriver. I would of taken the cable guy)
As a waste of humanity, Coulter licks FOX news anchor Sean Hannity’s ass so much, he hasn’t purchased toilet paper in
7 years. In her latest piece of provocateur hate theater on FOX; she tries to lecture a guest host and panelist by spinning
the foreign policy mistakes of this current administration.
After being asked about US letting Osama Bin Laden get away and the fact that the president said he doesn’t even THINK
about him Coulter chides, “As for catching Osama, it’s irrelevant, things are going swimmingly in Afghanistan…he’s like a
fading movie star”. The fill in co-host Kristen Powers disagrees about the situation, then quickly asks, “the mastermind
behind the Al-Queda attacks on the United States is completely irrelevant, is that what you’re saying?”.
Here’s where it gets good. Rather than backtrack, accept what she just said was a terrible choice of words, Coulter
turns and does what every Neo-con does today when faced with a serious fact or question. Change the subject to suit their
personal views by attacking a Democrat or someone else not who’s not in the same room. Here’s how she responded, “Alright,
it was handed to Bill Clinton TWICE”. Kristen quickly and correctly points out, “Yeah, well I believe George Bush was the
president in 2001”. Coulter then begins her Meltdown. Since Coulter had no valid response she tried to stall by saying,
“OK wait! I know you’re trying to imitate Alan Combs, but at some point he does let me answer.” It became obvious that
Coulter did not have a solid handle on any facts and needed to use personal attacks to be effective, so Ms. Powers
intelligently began to ask another panelist an issue related question hoping they might respond intelligently to move
things along. Then Coulter FREAKS OUT. Looking like she “lost her puppy” she beings huffing at camera, calling out for
her sweet clean bottomed Sean to save her from these terrible people with facts pointing out serious problems with her
logic. How can Sean help her? She’s getting her clock cleaned with her OWN ignorant words. The topper? In frustration,
she then decides to get up, and leave like some petulant 1st grader not getting the toy she wanted during free time.
Ann, for your use of personal attacks to others who ask reasonable intelligent questions, your rampant abuse of facts
to suit your own beliefs, your ability to change the subject to talking points rather than deal with the question, creepy
stick like figure, leaving the set a television show when you couldn’t even answer the simplest of questions, and total
inability to understand that what you say does in fact mean SOMETHING, this throat punch is for you…
Sorry about breaking your Adams apple sweetie, but we ALL know you’re smuggling sausage in the front seat.
You’ve all seen the commercials with people at a football game where the temperature is hot and rising. If only
something would come and quench this insane thirst. Then we hear a rumbling sound, and out of the tunnel comes the
Coors Light Silver Bullet “Love Train” to the tune of the O Jays “Love Train” flying through the middle of the game.
The entire place starts icing over and is cold. I can almost hear the fans right now…
“Hey! We got a game going on here douche bag. It’s the 4th quarter with :17 seconds left, down by five at their
10 yard line, so you decide to drive an entire locomotive train through the middle of the field? Now? You stopped the
game, tore up all the grass, and ran over our starting quarter back along with every other player who didn’t react in
all .5 seconds. Besides, my shirt was soaked with sweat and now it’s like –17 degree’s so hypothermia is sure to set
in. You Mr. Coors Light Silver Bullet “Love Train” conductor, are an asshole!”
In another spot they have it barreling through a beach volleyball game, a construction site, and down the middle
of a fucking street!
Where did he get his engineers license? During a tour of the Coors Light Brewery? Was he just hammered and missed
the tracks? Is there such a thing as a CUI, Conducting Under the Influence? Look, we get your “silly”, “wacky” premise
that a speeding train will deliver refreshing cold beer anytime and anywhere it’s hot and people are in need. Nice. But
news flash jackasses, you choose places that ALREADY have beer there. Football games HAVE beer vendors, beaches HAVE
coolers chalked full of booze that people bring, and please tell me the last construction site that didn’t have enough
crushed beer cans to erect a whole other building?
For your stupid failed premise, for besmirching the O Jay’s masterful song “Love Train”, for running every ecosystem
by making the temperature drop 100 degree’s in a mater of seconds, and for fucking up a perfectly good football game.
This throat punch is for you…
Love, exciting and new. Come aboard. We're expecting you.
Love, life's sweetest reward. Let it flow, it floats back to you…
Love won't hurt anymore. It's an open smile on a friendly shore.
It's Looooove! Welcome aboard - It's Looooove!
Yes indeedy, its Doc from The Love Boat! That sly son-of-bitch waited till all the women on that floating sap barge were
vulnerable, shaken, questioning their relationships, and drunk. Then, he’d ply them with more booze from Isaac and WHAM! Doc
was suddenly “the sweet sensitive guy”, who “listened to all my problem and really “gets” me better than the guy I’m with”.
You just know he threw his anchor in all of them. Hell, I don’t know weather to punch him or hug him…but since I didn’t directly
benefit from any of his adventures, a punch it is.
Doc was no dumbass. He knew the women of the LB were there only so long, so they were like that friend of your girlfriends
who’s in from “out of town” so anything went because they were gone in two days. He pounced when they were weak. That makes
him no better than a low-grade high school date rapist. See, maybe that’s it. Waiting till they were weak WAS his A game.
That’s pretty shitty.
For your weasely head games, your ability to find the weakest in the heard, needing extra booze to seal the deal, and
finally not cutting me in on any of the action. This throat punch is for you…
Cross town classic between the Cubs and Sox! With Comiskey packed, the entire crowd is in love with baseball, beer, and
broads “front-loading” brats. No slew of fights in the stands, no batteries being thrown at players, no urinating on each other.
Wow, all the sudden it made me proud to see Chicago fans from both teams filled with respectful pride. Then out of nowhere…
Go ahead and watch the replay 7 times. Watch it 700 times and you’ll come to the same conclusion I did. Barrett didn’t
have the ball, he blocked the plate, and AJ ran him over like any other baseball player would. Then Michael Barrett got pissed
off about being run over in a clean baseball play, grabbed AJ around the waist as he attempted to go around him to get his helmet,
and then squarely punched him in the jaw. Sure, Barrett said things like, “I came out and blocked the plate, he had every right
to hit me”, and “There is no correlation between that play and being frustrated with playing poorly this season.” Dusty echoed
with, “It was a clean play by AJ. That’s how you play the game”. But there’s something deeper here. Something much more sinister.
It’s the illusion of being honest with yourself. Telling the truth. Saying something, but not really meaning it. Barrett was
quoted by AJ after the collision as saying, “I didn’t have the ball bitch!” That does not sound like a person who feels, “he(AJ)
had every right to hit me”. That sounds like, “Fuck you, you have no right to barrel into me even though I blocked the plate.”
I honestly believe he didn’t know AJ was getting his helmet and sort of snapped because he was hit. But where’s THAT explanation
publicly. It even makes sense to me. He just got hit pretty hard, a little dazed, really pissed, and sees the guy who laid him out
kind of walking around him.
Why not just be honest? Why say things he doesn’t believe? Why, because the north side has spent 100
years blaming everything and everyone for their own mistakes. Everyone from a goat, to Bartman, now to other teams playing the game
the right way. Until the Cubs take a long, hard, look at the man in the mirror, they’ll be doomed to the same fate over and over.
In fact, if Cubs fans really want a winning product on the field. STOP going to the games. Until that day comes, the Tribune
Company has no reason what so ever to field a winner. Vote with the only power the Cubs front office understands, money.
For the “sucker punch” heard round the world, for Barrett’s horseshit excuse for WHY he did it, for his total lack of honesty,
for brain-dead Cubs fans who “think” AJ deserved to get punched for playing the game the right way, and that Barrett was “Cool” for
doing it, this throat punch is for all of you clueless dunderfucks…
Hear that? It’s the sound of peanuts and crackerjacks! We’re talking baseball season. The reason men
and women all over America blow off work, parties, recitals, weddings, funerals, and each other by saying
it’s one of those things above.
Why the PISTP then? Surly I don’t have something against our national past time…
Nope, but I do with all those ass monkeys on cell phones BEHIND the batter when they are on TV and waving
like a bunch of drunk Special Olympians. This has to STOP! Last time I checked people tune into the game to see
their favorite team play, not be subjected to some pasty white fat guy in a Cubs jersey with #25 and the name
Stepincowshitski on back waving his arms like he’s trying to take off at O’Hare.
Look, you paid a lot of money for your seats. Great! So why do you have to SHOW all your family & friends you
did by calling them, then waving like some jackass till they see you and acknowledge with a simple “oh yeah, huh,
I see you” on the other line? I just don’t see the payoff. All that work, waving, making a douche of yourself and
all you’re going to get is a “gee, neat”, or maybe a “yep, there you are”. I could understand if some guy has been
courting a beautiful girl his whole life trying to get her into bed and this would win some ancient bet, but it’s
not. About the only thing this person does, is make sure EVERYONE except the people he/she’s calling the phone who
sees them on TV knows they’re one colossal turd. Heck, maybe the people talking to them on the phone after they
hang up say, “Yep, Kevin’s still a dickface”. Why do they do it? I could see if you won something or people knew you
but now you’re only known as the “dipshit behind Pujols”.
For those cell phone chatting, attention whore seeking, TV batter shot interrupting, clueless messes, this throat
punch is for you.
You just know these are same dumb ass’s who stand behind a reporter reporting on a fatal shooting while in the
background they wave shouting hi to friends.
Hey all! Enjoying the madness that’s March? Gearing up for baseball season? Putting panty hose on your head,
walking into a bank with a gun, and colleting a few extra bucks? Wondering what the hell THIS thing is?
(Oh look, it’s the old double fishhook going though two triangles club)
That’s easy. It’s a Church of Scientology logo.
**Silence. Puzzled look. Awkward stare.**
They’re the douche bags that brain washed Isaac Hayes to quit his wonderful gig as Chef on South Park.
**Heading nodding in total recognition**
Some say Tom Cruise is a part of this group who’s been brainwashed, but that doesn’t make sense. He was
ALREADY a highly gullible douche bag to begin with, so there was no “washing” necessary. Anyone who can be
talked into doing Mission Impossible III, knowing how much I & II sucked is a couple clowns short of a circus
so he doesn’t count. Who else is a celebrity in this wonderful religion where there was a galactic ruler named
Xenu, souls were boxed near volcanos, then taken to the cinema and shown films for several days? Let’s see, you
got John Travolta, who was responsible for Battlefield Earth, which should have listed his home address in the
credits so if you actually saw it, you could go to his house, ring the door bell, and punch him in the meat bag.
Kirstie Alley, the greatest third banana of a well-written sit-com in the 80’s, so who cares. Lisa Marie
Presley-Jackson who married “putty face the boy bedding singer” so she’s nuttier than a planters peanut factory
to begin with and doesn’t count. When you really look at it, THAT’S why people are pissed off with all this.
Chef here was one us.
(Chef using cute little white kids as a human shield)
Scientologists are starting to steal from our “normal” “healthy” population. Go swim in your own fucked up
gene pool! Why not take some emotionally starved person with no self-esteem and limited range. Being based in LA,
that’s all there IS. You can’t spit in that town without someone filming it and trying to sell it as a reality TV
show called “Spitting Spitters & The Spit They Spat Vol. VII”,0 so go Scientology apeshit on the whole town. We
won’t care…but stop taking from our “normal” population or you’ll find my very real, size 11, up your Thetan ass!
For Xenu, boxed souls. Thetan (which is you break it down, look for anyone with THE TAN and ask them to join),
your immense tales of galactic bullshit, and stealing Isaac Hayes from South Park, this throat punch is for you!
Oh yeah, thanks again for taking Cruise, Travolta, Alley, and Presley-Jackson off our hands. You kind of helped
us out there. Hail Xenu!
This is special Valentines Day PIST message from our good friend Mr. Bobby Darin. It’s for lover’s
only. That’s lover’s ONLY!!!!
(Mr. Bobby Darin getting drunk)
Hi. I didn’t notice you there. All dressed in that beautiful outfit of clothes. How’s about I place
my penis in your vagina?
What’s that? No? But honey, I’m Bobby Darin. What, that doesn’t mean anything to you? How can that be?
**inaudible whispers from a woman**
You want a man to treat you like an equal? With respect, understanding, and care while offering you
the same jobs opportunities as a man? You desire me to be there for you and share the load in child
rearing? You want me to consult every decision I make with you BEFORE I make it, and eagerly accept
your wonderful advice? You want me to refrain from calling you names that objectify you such as: baby,
chic, Ms. November, and sex flaps. You need a firm commitment of dating before you’ll even think about
placing your mouth on my magic Mr. Microphone?
Wow, you’re amazing and have given me a lot to think about. I must say, besides being breathtakingly
beautiful, intelligent, and wonderfully spoken, you hold an excellent conversation.
(Bobby strokes his chin taking a puff from his pipe. He exhales turning his chair toward this smutty
hot blonde with enormous tits)
Hi. I didn’t notice you there. All dressed in that beautiful outfit of clothes. How’s about I place
my penis in your vagina?
(Mel and Kid Rock ring in 2006)
Happy New Year!!! Merry New Year!!! Have a great New Year!!!
We hear this every, single, year from smiling folks we’re meeting, leaving, or passing by in an
elevator. People, it’s got to stop! Let’s break it down. If you really want me to have a happy new year,
then get to it. Give me some money, let me have sex with your wife(providing she is attractive, and I
can’t stress this enough), or do something nice for me. Just saying it doesn’t make it so.
My new thing is this. When someone says, “Happy New Year”. I say, “You mean it?” They look at me
puzzled and confused. Then I say, “Cause if you mean it I’m very happy when I smoke expensive cigars
and I have none. Would you buy me some?”* The person will slowly furrow their brow and blurt, “What?
Why the heck would I buy you something like that?” To which I reply, “Oh, so then I’M responsible for
my own happiness. Would you please stop offering me shit you’re not going to give me? Good luck in 2006!”
Isn’t that really what we’re saying? Let’s all take a cue from Christmas. See, with Christmas, the
shits already built in. We wish you a merry Christmas. That’s all, that’s it, and bam, you’re off the
hook. Then why does everyone still tell us happy new year? I have no damn clue, but this throat punch
is for them…
Good luck in 2006!
*I actually hate cigars. It’s just a dickish item that almost no one with half a brain would buy
for acquaintances, and worked well for the story. That’s all.
Crap! It’s that time of year. Time to be subjected to the “Mall Santa”. I don’t care if you’re the
kid who sits on the wino’s lap crying a river, others getting gifts, or the parents trying to calm
their hyperventilating tikes breaking the sound barrier with loud shrill shrieks of “Noooooooooooooo,
I don’t wanta goooooooooooo”. Can you hardly blame the yapping monkeys? Maybe they’re smart. This
charlatan Santa is nothing more than a liquor hound who can’t hold down a regular job, smelling like
an odd mixture of urine and Vicks Vapor Rub.
The fucked up part is that you have to pay for it. With your time AND money. You wait in line for
hours with the little monsters asking, “When’s it OUR turn?”, “Why’s the line so long?”, and “that’s
not the REAL Santa”. You finally get there when the water works and freaking out starts. Kicking,
drooling, and speaking in tongues until you’re left paying $35 for copies of this:
(Mindy Merchant’s kids at Christmas being abused by Crap Krinkle)
The real joy is watching this all happen as you’re walking to Spencer’s for those last minute
“wacky” gifts like poo spray, edible underwear, and toilet seat lid that farts the National Anthem.
You look over at the parents, half in schadenfreudial delight, the other, in understanding pity
catching a glimpse of the pain on the moms face. You feel bad…
until the kid vomits up a Snickers Cold Stone Creamery mix up on dads reindeer sweater. Then you
laugh, and laugh, and laugh.
For all those imposters impersonating Santa, the snotty kids, horrible lines, and those booming
“Ho ho ho’s” that hurt your ears smelling like cheap cigarettes and tooth decay…this punch is for you
(All that’s missing is the mustache and the goose step)
President Bush unveiled his latest work of Orwellian bullshit with a new banner that read,
“Plan for Victory”…TWO AND HALF YEARS after we invaded Iraq. Isn’t this where according to Bush,
Cheney, Rumsfeld, Wolfowitz, and WHIG(White House Iraqi Group) "We will be greeted as liberators",
our "Shock and awe will assure quick victory" immediately followed by "Mission Accomplished", and
finally "the insurgency is in the last throws"? It is? How could this be? Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, I know.
Because it’s all made up bullshit to market our occupation of Iraq. Cool, just making sure. You know,
I think I kind of like this. All you have to do is just make up anything you want when people ask you
specific questions that require specific answers.
Let me try this. Go ahead ask me a question. Any question at all…
Josh Dunkin (Titchler High School AV president): “Have you ever dressed in an Evil Knievel costume,
had ass sex with your dog, and then took a dump in the church collection plate?”
John Response: “No. That sends the wrong message. You’re emboldening costumed bestiality, and public
Shit, this is easy. I think I got it. Watch this. I can make shit up without you even asking me.
Here goes…Jesus had a 3ft long dick. Jews can eat more than their total body weight three times a day
without gaining a single pound. Black people can fly. Wait, scratch that last one, it’s true. They could
always buy an airplane ticket. How about “Black People are very quiet and respectful in movie theaters”.
There, now that works.
Here’s to the mounds of bullshit coming from a tainted administration, to the people who made the
“Mission Accomplished” sign. What? They’re the same people. Oh. Well then, this throat punch is for you…
What? You can’t hit the president of the United States? Oh, that’s simple, I didn’t do it. The ghost
of Tookie Williams did.
(Looks like a man who’s done a fake smile or two before)
Tom DeLay was indicted this month, this was his mug shot, and couldn’t have
happened to a nicer guy. This months PISTP is a two for one. Who says you can’t
find savings in these tight money times? What’s that? Economists do…oh, well,
ok…I guess like the rest of the world, I forgot about them. If turds smelled any
turdier, they’d smell like Tom DeLay. He got caught with his hand in the cookie jar,
and when that happens to a politician, we all know what’s next. LIE…and lie BIG!
Imagine this. It’s Halloween, and you are a little boy or girl. You walk up to
the house of a neighborhood kid with whom you regularly play. You ring the bell
expecting normal adults to hand you candy, and you find this…
or even THIS…
Sickening isn’t? What happens to the children of these two schmoes you ask?
Humiliation, public mockery, and ass kicking’s galore; all thanks to you two parents
trying to dress up to answer the door. If you’re going to a party that’s one thing,
but this “parents that dress up just to pass out candy” shit has got to stop. If you
won’t do it if for yourself, think of the children. It’s more for your kids ass safety
by helping him/her avoid atomic wedgies or a wicked swirly in some dirty truck stop
crapper. If it’s red, at an intersection, and in the shape of an octagon, let’s STOP!
For Tommy D’s lies, asinine “happy grin” mug shot, obligatory American Flag pin
you always wear that signifies he MUST love the US more than anyone without one, for
stupid parents who insist on mocking their very existence by dressing up to passing
out candy, for their ignorance on how it damages their kids neighborhood reputation
of now being “the kid of those jackasses who dressed up as Danny and Sandy from
Grease”, and the sheer disbelieve at that lady in that first Halloween photo even
being able to lift her leg off the ground with out getting seriously hurt, this
punch is for you…
And now, the mayor of Dipshit City…
Mikey Brown. This former Horsy showman, screwed the pooch so hard in his
response to Hurricane Katrina, it made the seven years teaching Helen Keller to
say, “water” look lightening quick. Ahhhhhh, it’s not a good PISTP till Helen Keller
is evoked now is it? He should have know the severity, because apparently EVERYONE
ELSE DID. Besides, I’d be ready when Katrina sounds like a name of some batshit
crazy Russian gymnast who defected to the US to work customer service for Cingular.
“Brownie, you’re doing one hellava job”, says president Bush. Proving once again,
his foot should be in the spot where his mouth is talking, but yet they never occupy
the same space at the same time. Some say, “well it was the worst natural disaster,
what can you do”? Well, that’s what FEMA is supposed to do. It’s the Federal Emergency
Management Agency. Not the Don’t Actually Do Anything Agency. That’s right, it’s baby
talk. Fucking baby talk. What do you do when you’re three years-old and royally
screwed something up? Call DADAA.
For your bullshit lies, blaming other people for the management of the relief
effort of Katrina which is you fucking job, stupid looking “what’d I do wrong?” face,
robot suburban uniform with a blue shirt/khaki pants, and ability to wait FOUR days
after all this happened that you KNEW would happen, this punch is for you…
So is this extra nut shot…from a horse named Nipsey you showed three years ago…
Remember this incredible band?
That’s right, it’s alt rock edgy band Linkin’ Park! What’s that you say? No it’s not?
Is it Nickleback? Destiny’s Child? The Children of Destiny’s Child? No? Then just who the
hell are these guys? I’ll tell you who, these guys are now THESE guys…
Ah! These weathered, cracked asphalt looking faces passing as human beings were once
the single greatest rock and roll band in the world. What happened? Why do most of them
look like a mix between Alan Greenspan & Betty Davis in What Ever Happened To Baby Jane,
and why do we have to see them like this? Better yet, why all the Questions? I’ll tell
you why. Musicians today fucking suck, that’s why. In fact today’s music sucks so hard
the Stones farting in wheel chairs for three hours would sell out faster than Ashlee
Simpson. Hell, I’d even watch the Stones work a crossword puzzle on stage before I’d go
see manufactured crap. Beck, Smashing Pumpkins, and many others who are true artist I’ll
always enjoy immensely and don’t belong in this group…but as far as Nelly, Kelly Osbourne,
Lindsay Lohan, Fall Out Boy, Kelly Clarkeson, Shakira, Britney Spears, and the endless parade
of glamorized karaoke acts ruining music today, this punch is for you…
Dust off those knuckles kiddies, coming next month…the throat punching of FEMA director
Mike Brown, so stay tuned…
He’ll annoy you with his high-pitched voice. He had enough money to go see a good
dentist, now he’s stuck eating an apple through a picket fence. He doesn’t talk well,
but’ll chew you ear off in the end. Now after officially retiring, he wants to have sex
for you on camera. I didn’t think the words "Mike Tyson sinks to a whole new low” could be
written and taken seriously. But there they be.
Jenna Jameson wants him to do porn with her. Yet what I can’t believe, is after all the
dipshit things this man has done in his life, he didn’t said YES right away. For all that’s
holy, take it Mike, take it and run. This is a no brainer, and the best offer you’ve had. She’s
attractive and wants to pay you to have sex with her on film. Shit, I’ll do it pro bono.
Maybe I’m missing something here. Maybe since she’s so willing it takes all the “sport”
out of it. He likes em feisty and yelling “no”, not on all fours screaming, “rattle my mud
cage Mandingo!”. Well Mike, here’s for all your dumb ass tattoo’s, your retarded tirades, your
tired final bout with soup can Larry, that high pitched whinny voice, and seeing you anywhere
in the media over the next five years…
Ha, look at that…he went down faster than that house of cards that Tiger the dog knocked
over on Brady Bunch.
Paris in the summer is wonderful! Not the place with the penis shaped tower,
woman who never shower, or ass clowns talking through their nose like they’re sniffing
cheese gone bad. Oh no, it’s the skinny blonde heiress who has done virtually NOTHING
to earn her spot on the 30-second wall of shame. The only thing she’s done is have more
dicks on top of her than a bar-stool at a gay club.
You’ve all seen or heard of the controversial burger commercial by now. It’s for Carl
Jr Spicy BBQ burger where she is cleaning a luxury car in a bikini. It’s incredible, not her,
but that this thing is the freaking size of her head.
It's the first time a hard, stiff, piece of meat has ever been that close to her mouth;
without actually going inside...
Overheard from the PA's bullhorn on the set of the commercial: "talent less whores to the
set...all talent less whores to the set". Before she could get there the entire cast of NBC's
cancelled sit-com Coupling showed up along Scott Baio...
If you haven’t seen it, here it is in all its bullshitty splendor:
I feel sorry for is the car. What a half-assed job, only 20 seconds into cleaning the fucking
thing, she takes a lunch break? You lazy bitch. So for her being more overexposed than Elvira
cleavage, less entertaining than FOX networks, and skinnier than a whisk broom…this TP is for
your, skinny, “should be white trash in a trailer park” ass…
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh May. The flowers are blooming, booze is flowing at block parties, everyone’s
wearing less clothing, and the heat is making people nuttier than my stool after eating 3lbs of cashews.
Who deserves a firm set of knuckles to the throat THIS month? I’m so glad you asked. Remember that kid
from the television show Growing Pains? Well he’s back…as a fundamentalist, bible thumping, wack-a-do
bent on sending normal people like you and me to hell. Don’t believe the oh so cool Mike Seaver could
ever flip out and go “Super Jesus” on evil sinners? Just take a peek:
It's weird; I was just lying awake in bed last night thinking "I wonder if that kid from that
shitty movie Like Father Like Son found god and is trying to save us Catholic pagans from the eternal
damnation of the flames of hell?" Then I got distracted by an issue of WANK on my nightstand, blew
some sperm in a sock, and went to sleep...sorry Kirk, the urge to purge kicks fundamental religion's
ass every time.
Flames of Hell: 7,347,567,666
Kirk Cameron: 3
If you do the quiz you can quickly find out that ol’ Kirk needs a nice jacket with sleeve that
tie in the back. I love how the ten-commandments quiz (Am I a good person? nope!) has Guilty and
Innocent as choices instead of Yes and No. If you don’t have time to take the Way Of The Master
Quiz, here is a simple version you can try instead:
What do Kirk’s “WAY OF THE MASTER”…
…a baby’s diapers
…and the contents of this toilet seat lid have in common?
Here it is! The first time ever on the web, a list of people
who should get a firm slug in the throat because of actions, words,
or events they’ve been directly responsible for. After each
month passes, you’d think people would take a hint, learn
from mistakes, and try really hard to avoid them again. But that’s
the true beauty of America people; we’ll all step in the
exact same pile of dog shit we just did a day earlier. Look, the
sad reality of it all is that when one dip shit dies, twenty larger
stroke jobs will sprout up to take their place with some talent-less
network there to film it all. So, guess there’ll always
be a need to curl up those knuckles, make a tight fist, aim for
the larynx, and punch away till they can’t speak.
This month’s PISTP, is a three for one! Who says you can’t
find saving in W’s horseshit economy? For real, cokes on
sale at Jewel, $3.99 a case so pick it up while it lasts.
Anyone involved in the Jackson trial
in air, he’s obviously a member of the Whitish Panthers)
Oh, you know who you are, from the creepy parents of cancer boy,
to the grinning pizza plattered head of George Lopez, to the endless
parade of freaks dragged into court everyday. Hummmm, let’s
see, we’ve got a bizarre man named Majestik Magician performing
tricks for the jury, his former body guard that robbed a Jack
in the box so he couldn’t testify, and possibly the most
disturbing inexplicable media thing to ever rome the earth; Jay
Leno. I can honestly say this; this trail makes every person in
an Alabama trailer park, looking in a mirror, feel pretty well
adjusted right about now. To Michael, the trial, the accusers
out for money, the media, Liz Taylor, and all the nuts under the
big top of this circus…this Throat punch is for you…
The senate hearing on Steroids in MLB
(The only thing
missing in this photo is an old man with gray hair and a silly
grin playing a calipee)
Wow, a St Patty’s day free for all! This was like watching
low budget community theater of the absurd. At one point, I started
laughing for 5 minutes at how bizarre the whole thing was when
asked “If you could take a ‘smart pill’ to win
the noble prize, would you?”. The giggling was either the
intrinsic comedy in this whole kangaroo court or the near wheel
barrel of weed I smoked.
Let’s see Sammy’s been cashing major league baseball
checks in our country for what now? 18 some odd years, and yet
can barely order a burger at Wendy’s without fucking it
up. I was actually glad he had his lawyer; that way I wouldn’t
have to listen to a PC sentiment less statement butchered by him.
Every time Sammy talks all I hear is the sound of bee’s
buzzing or him saying “me take wrong bat, that all. Other
bat to put on show for fan before game”. The slick political
word play Curt Shilling used in not answering a single question
with a straightforward answer while towing the company line made
him a real possibility for the Republican presidential ticket
in 2008. All I could say about Palmareo is he probably looks great
in tighty whiteys.
Big Mac never took steroid and doesn’t want to discuss
ANYTHING in the past, except his records, his highlights, the
summer of 98 with Sosa, the incredible ass sex he had with LaRussa
in an abandoned Milwaukee Brewers shower after a game, his days
in the game, the photo’s he’s been autographing from
past performances, and the first two seasons of Mr. Belvedere
he has on DVD. Obviously I’m embellishing on one thing above;
he never really even liked Mr. Belvedere, it was Charles In Charge
he loved. People in the senate who wanted to feed softball questions
like “We're not interested in embarrassing anyone or ruining
careers or grandstanding. Do you like the game of baseball?”,
to Big Mac shutting up about the past faster than either Ollie
North or a mob stoolie, to the clueless reporters second guessing
this train wreck of a proceeding…This throat punch is for
all of you…
(The logo that
made UPN look like an actual television station)
Cancel Arrested Development? Air Kelsey Grammars The Sketch Show?
Let the Simpson’s start slipping into a weak malaise? This
is for the newly departed Gail Berman, for the people who green
lit The Simple Life, the ass clowns who even spoke the pitch for
My Big Fat Obnoxious show idea, and for everyone else around there
who adopt except JG (he seems to get it and understands the medium)…this
throat punch is for you…
If you think they got off pretty easy, think again. They have
live with their shitty shows they created everyday; we can just
turn it off. See you next month!