I finished watching the fourth season of The Wire on DVD and am dying to see the fifth season, but the fucking thing doesn’t come out until August. And like a “her-on” junkie from the show, I needed a new obsession. Lost isn’t doing it, I need a regular fix, and watching an hour a week or spreading it out over a season is for suckas. I’m now convinced that watching full seasons of shows on DVD is the only way to go. I have absolute control over what, when, and how. And I can fix-up a couple of shows a night if I get into it.

I actually don’t watch regular TV anymore. Can we dump our cable now? Hell no, we need Dora, Diego, Sesame Street, and the fucking-douchebag Wiggles for the crazy spawn on-demand.

My latest obsession is Entourage. I watched the first season in two days and am mid-way through the second season. Best line ever from the second season:

Dude, did you just get cock-blocked by Bob Saget?

Fucking classic…

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Sadcox over at Hear It From Us found a cool tool called toonlet that creates comic strips. Here is my first “hello world” comic (in geek talk, my first attempt)… later bitches.

AND, my second attempt:

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So I’m sitting in a coffee shop in the San Diego airport reading a book by Chuck Palahniuk (the dude that wrote Fight Club) and there was a great line in it. So great that I logged onto my laptop and was going to jot it down in notepad or something so I didn’t forget it. Then it occurred to me that if any airport in the world had terminal wide WiFi it would be this one… guess what, I was right. I love technology. Therefore, I just began to write this post.

Now, I love lines, quotes, lyrics, blurbs, or whatever you want to call them. The problem is, I can’t seem to remember them all as my short-term memory is shot to shit from too much unprotected sex in Haiti… wait, that’s hepatitis and my liver, never mind. At any rate, the excerpt that I was referring to is:

It’s not that I want to get married. I admire guys who can commit to a tattoo. - Chuck Palahniuk, Survivor

What a great line, to denigrate marriage to window dressing in such a succinct manner, that is flippin genius. That led me to think of other biting lines I had read or heard over the years. I’m not referring to classic pickup lines like “Nice shoes, wanna fuck”, but more like:

• People who speak in metaphors should shampoo my crotch - Jack Nicholson, As good as it Gets

• If you want to know who your friends are, get yourself a jail sentence - Charles Bukowski

• The Universe is a big place, perhaps the biggest - Kilgore Trout

• Be careful who you pretend to be, because you are who you pretend to be - Kurt Vonnegut

• A patriot must always be prepared to defend his country against his government - Edward Abbey

And…

The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald… striking. So, I’m on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one - big hitter, the Lama - long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. Do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga… gunga, gunga-galunga. So we finish the eighteenth and he’s gonna stiff me. And I say, “Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know.” And he says, “Oh, uh, there won’t be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness.” So I got that goin’ for me, which is nice. - Bill Murray, Caddyshack

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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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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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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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So I was in Best Buy the other day salivating over a bunch of shit that I wanted to buy when I noticed an entire DVD section dedicated to HBO shows and movies. When I was browsing the titles, I came across the first four seasons of The Wire. I remembered reading somewhere that the show wasn’t just good, it was fucking good, and I decided to check it out. So I bought season 1, jerked-off on the clerk, and walked to car… ok I didn’t jerk-off on the clerk, that would be ridiculous, I just shat on her stomach. On my way home from Best Buy, I remembered where I read about the show, it was on Sadcox’s site. I think the word for his view on the show is evangelical. Check out his take on the show in the previous link, he has a much purtier mouth than I do… I just swear a lot. Anyway, I just finished up season 1 last night and bought season 2 during my lunch hour today, it has been exactly 6 days since I picked up the first season. Hello, my name is billymac, and I’m addicted to The Wire. Thanks Sadcox.

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Don’t worry, I’m not turning into a sports geek blog, but I really hate this time of year in terms of sports and I have to get this off of my chest.  For me, the time between March Madness and the kick-off of football season is a dead zone for sports.  Baseball fucking sucks, the NBA play-offs are boring as hell, and does hockey still have a league?

As far as baseball goes, the players are pussies, they won’t play in the rain or snow (or if the ump farts too loud), and they are overpaid prima-donnas.  The league minimum salary is $390,000 in 2008 and the average salary from 2007 was  $2.8 million, seriously let that sink in and remember that 2.8 is an AVERAGE.  Compare that salary to yours and think about what they offer in return for such huge salary’s… entertainment, often times shitty entertainment.  Anyway, 2.8 mil seems a bit low, isn’t it time for them to strike again?.

The season lasts 17 and half years with a 10 year play-off, and it’s like taking a cheese grater to your scrote to watch it on TV.  Granted, it is kinda fun to go to the ballpark every once and a while, but let’s face it, it is normally just an excuse to get wasted.  I think the reason hard-core baseball fans are such fucking stats dweebs is because the game is so mind-numbingly dull that they have to fill in the time with worthless trivia.

Jebus… I can’t wait until football season.

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