It’s Friday… Photo caption contest. Try to use the photocrank tool on the picture as well as the comments, the photocrank tool is really working out well. To use it just click on the photocrank widget on the lower right side of the picture, it will bring up a menu system and then you can crank away (on the picture that is… sleeping with altar boys when you are a priest is bad, mmmkay?).  Enjoy!

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Dear Mr. Man in the Yellow Hat,

I have some words of advice and a couple of bones to pick with you. First off, what’s up with the yellow hat, shirt, tie, pants, jacket, and underoos? Yellow is the color of cowardice and piss… the man in black would be hella cooler. Anyway, we all know you have a creepy affinity for animals, specifically little monkeys. Another eccentric man had the same inclination towards wild simians, his name is Michael Jackson, and we all know where that led. I’m not going so far as to say that monkey love is the gateway to pedophilia, but it’s probably a good start. I have my eye on you.

This letter isn’t the forum to discuss your possible preference for little boys, it is to discuss your discipline problem with your little monkey. Your little monkey, named George, is very inquisitive. We get that. The problem is it appears that you don’t. Week in and week out, George finds himself in a situation where he creates a problem, havoc ensues, and then while George attempts to right his many wrongs, some sort of mitigating factor comes into play (more often than not, George is just “cute”) that makes the situation OK. You are apparently ignorant to the shenanigans and typically show up after the shit has hit the fan and find yourself apologizing to the victims of the mayhem.

I am placing the blame for all of these problems squarely on your yellow shoulders Mr. Hat. In nearly every instance, poor George was left alone prior to his getting into trouble. I’m not sure about the rest of the world, but if I had a wandering monkey that got into a ton of shit when I wasn’t watching, I probably wouldn’t let him out of my site or allow him to skulk around off of a leash or out of a cage. But you have left him alone hundreds of times with the probability of a shit storm at 100%. Mr. Man in the Yellow Hat, you are a fucking idiot.

We all know you can spank your monkey, but what GEORGE needs is some discipline. If he gets out of line, break a finger. If he does it again, throw him into the closet for a week without food or water. Third strike, back to the fucking jungle with ya. I hope this helps.

Sincerely,

Billymac

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Best. Month. Ever. Some of you choads probably think that December is the best month ever because of that stupid holiday, but you’re wrong, May rules. In fact, my month could kick the shit out of your month any day, I don’t even have to hold it down.

May signals the beginning of summer… don’t tell me that June 20th or the 21st is the first day of summer, I know that shit, but when you were in school, it was May. Even if your school didn’t let out until early June, you’ve checked out in May, and in college, it was May. The weather is right, not too hot, not too cold, the broads break out their summer dresses, it’s time to grill out again with a couple of cold ones (beers not icy cold bitches), and you just have this incredible urge to scream out “SUCK ME BEAUTIFUL” at the top of your lungs.

The icing on the cake for Month awesomeness is the fact that I was thrust upon the earth in mid-may. That’s right cheebs, I wasn’t just born I was created from a lump of fine clay mixed with gold, silver, platinum, wine, beer, syphilis, a retarded midget, and topped off with a pinch of bitterness and entitlement.

Anyway… May rules… later.

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I saw a post over at Anonymous Idiot yesterday about The Wire and an infamous scene where the only dialog was with the word fuck (or slight variation, as in motherfucker or fuck me). I had to post the video of the scene, check it out below. The setup is a couple of salty cops recreating a crime scene in a vacant apartment some period of time after the crime (weeks, months?). The challenge, no dialog but the big F…. The Wire passed with flying colors, it kinda sounds like me putting together a bookshelf or any kids shit in my house.

Later bitches…

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I have joined the beta of a new site called Anonymous Idiot (AI, not to be confused with Allen Iverson). This is a place where men are men, women are men, and dogs are scared shitless…. wait, that’s my last church, never mind. Anyway, AI has two main objectives: 1) Provide a place where you can post content that doesn’t fit in with your site’s content because it is too controversial (or in my case not controversial enough), and 2) generate backlinks to your site with the goal of generating additional traffic for you. If this is something that might be of interest to you, check it out, at least the content should be interesting enough for a laugh with a bunch of idiots writing them.

So now I’m a certified moron idiot… at least I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.

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The title of this post is in regards to the “I’m feeling lucky” button (IFL) on Google, not to the fact that I think there is a high probability that I will get laid tonight… but shit, ya never know. Anyway, I haven’t used that particular button in a while, mostly because it has little value, especially after stumble came out, and I like to see my options before jumping in. Lately, the searches I toss into IFL end up on urban dictionary (like this) or wikipedia… actually, that probably says a lot about me.

However, there were a couple of searches that ended up “interesting” like:

fucking weird (yikes! my eyes my eyes!)

mile high donkey kick (this just wasn’t what I was expecting)

asshole prick bush (you have to really pay attention to this one)

The “asshole prick bush” one was good enough that I embedded the cocksmoker below for your enjoyment… later bitches.

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Say it isn’t so, our bullshit government has engaged in propaganda activity directly on US soil? The New York Times had a very interesting article yesterday titled: “Behind TV Analysts, Pentagon’s Hidden Hand“. No, the hidden hand wasn’t up Bush’s mostly retarded ass as I had originally guessed, it is actually in your pocket and mine, as well as up the skirts of school girls (the Pentagon is a dirty dirty place full of creepy pederasts). The article is a great read and goes into detail how the Bush Administration uses former military officials, who are now mostly tied up with the private sector defense industry, as embedded puppets at the major TV news outlets. Big surprise, FoxNews had the highest number of these ass-clowns followed by NBC, CNN, CBS and ABC. One warning, the article is fucking 11 pages long, most of us don’t have the attention span or time to dedicate to an article that long, but it was worth the extra minutes for me.

We all know suspect that the information flowing from the Bush Administration is bullshit, but now there is solid evidence of an information tampering program initiated by the assholes in charge of the country. They brought these “independent” analysts in and held private briefings with them with the exact message points the administration wanted to get out and then deployed them to the networks. And this shit works.

Hidden behind that appearance of objectivity, though, is a Pentagon information apparatus that has used those analysts in a campaign to generate favorable news coverage of the administration’s wartime performance, an examination by The New York Times has found.

The effort, which began with the buildup to the Iraq war and continues to this day, has sought to exploit ideological and military allegiances, and also a powerful financial dynamic: Most of the analysts have ties to military contractors vested in the very war policies they are asked to assess on air.

I really fucking hate this administration. And, I’m not sure if our government is realistically fixable.

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It’s Friday… Photo caption contest. Try to use the photocrank tool on the picture as well as the comments, the photocrank tool is really working out well. To use it just click on the photocrank widget on the lower right side of the picture, it will bring up a menu system and then you can crank away (on the picture that is… stop turning tricks for drugs…).  Enjoy!

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Or at least heading in that direction. I’m referring of course to our civilization. The answer to the question of “What caused the fall of Rome” has no real answer, however it had some dominant factors like population in decline, incompetent and corrupt political system, and economic crisis… we are fitting the bill fairly nicely. For me it is those factors plus the unbelievable shit that we as a population get into. For example, check out this disturbing motherfucking shit out:

I’m speechless and sick to my stomach.

Then there is shit like this:

What the fuck is wrong with these people…

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As a parent who is subjected to a barrage of children’s movies, shows, songs, stories, books, nursery rhymes etc… I have come to question the validity of most of the content/material of these items, and wonder what the fuck are we trying to convey to our progeny with some of it. For example, in the infamous Frosty the Snowman TV movie, at the end when Santa and Frosty drop off the girl at home, they left her stranded on the snow covered roof of her house. Jebus Christ Santa, that is pretty fucked up, even for an old peeping-tom pervert such as yourself. We all know why you have a round belly and a red nose, you’re a wasted alcoholic and you and Frosty had to break out fast to finish your bottle of Jameson’s.

More examples include the ubiquitous nursery rhymes. Like:

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water

Jack fell down and broke his crown

and Jill came tumbling after

What really happened is Jack and Jill went up a hill to smoke crack and have unprotected sex (i.e., “get wet“). Jackie-boy was too fucked up to perform so Jill pimp-slapped him upside the head with the crack-pipe. Thus, Jack fell down up busted up his melon. Jill fell down too, because she was too wasted to walk down the hill and was rushing to go out and score some more crack and buy a new glass dick. She was probably going to have to turn a trick or two first, but I’m just speculating here.

Then there is this one:

This old man, he played one;

He played knick-knack ‘on my thumb’

With a knick-knack, paddy whack,

Give a dog a bone;

This old man came rolling home.

This old man, he played two;

He played knick-knack on my shoe.

With a knick-knack, paddy whack,

Give a dog a bone;

This old man came rolling home.

This old man, he played three;

He played knick-knack ‘on my knee’

With a knick-knack, paddy whack,

Give a dog a bone;

This old man came rolling home.

This shit goes on for like fifteen versus. I’m pretty disturbed by this rhyme on a number of levels. What’s up with the dirty old man? And WTF is knick-knack? If you replace “played knick-knack” with “hit me” or “spit on” or “jerked-off” this makes for an anonymous call to the feds or dateline. Also, this old pederast is tripping (i.e., rolling ) on E and fucking the dog? How is this good wholesome entertainment for the children?

I can go on for days about this shit… I will post some more after I scrub myself with bleach, these nursery rhymes are just dirty dirty dirty.

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