Blow me

My New Blog

2005-10-16T20:59:00.000-04:00

I have a new blog. It will be more of a satire site instead of a cringey/sick humor site. Here it is...

http://www.aworldfullofidiots.blogspot.com

Visit it or die.

By the way, I will be shutting this site (frankendick.blogspot.com) down in about a month.

False Alarm

2005-09-25T21:29:00.000-04:00

Sorry to scare you all. I will be able to continue writing. It will be on another site, though. It will still be on blogger, but I'm making a new blog. My parents think I should be published, and they want me to continue writing provided that I: 1) Get rid of this site to "clean" everything up. and 2) Keep my next page at a PG-13/R Rating instead of writing the X-Rated stuff I'm known for. I will still write funny, but I will try to make a point or explain what I think is wrong with the world in my new and improved blog. I can't think of a new name (I've dismissed ideas like "The Skank Page" and "Harlot Publishing"), but I guarantee it will be creative and funny.Anyway, I received a comment from an anonymous guy who thinks I'm whacko. Here it is.

Anonymous said...ZACHI HAVE JUST NOW STUMBLED UPON YOUR PAGE. WOW! YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND A FEW THINGS. I READ YOUR CLOSING OF THE BLOG AND AM NOT CONVINCED. THE BIBLE SAYS THAT OUT OF THE ABUNDANCE OF THE HEART THE MOUTH SPEAKS. AND IN READING ALL OF THIS, IT IS OBVIOUS THAT YOU HAVE SOME MAJOR ISSUES AND OUT OF THE ABUNDANCE OF YOUR HEART YOU HAVE SPOKEN. UNFORTUNATLY YOU FAIL TO REALIZE HOW CONTROLLED BY DEMONS YOU ARE OR MAYBE YOU DO REALIZE IT. ANYWAY, YOU NEED SOME SERIOUS DELIVERANCE AND PRAYER AND NOT REALLY EVEN KNOWING YOU, I WILL COMMIT TO DO SUCH THING FOR YOU. I FEEL THAT YOU ARE WORTH IT. YOU DEFINATELY HAVE A TALENT FOR WRITING AND IT IS A GOD GIVEN TALENT. THE DEVIL HAS JUST PERVERTED IT. BUT THATS OK, FROM WHAT THE LORD HAS TOLD ME ABOUT YOU, YOU BELONG TO HIM AND NOT SATAN. SO YOU WILL BE CHANGED, IT IS ALL A MATTER OF TIME. AND JUST SO YOU KNOW, GOD DOES NOT HAVE ANY CANCER IN HEAVEN TO GIVE TO PEOPLE. HE DOES NOT GIVE PEOPLE DISEASES, WE LIVE ON THIS EARTH AND WE ARE SUBJECT TO ALL THE SIN THAT WE ARE SURROUNDED WITH AND INVOLVED IN. BUT WHEN WE HAVE FAITH, GOD IS OUR HEALER. JUST AS HE CAN BE YOURS AS WELL AS YOUR DADS. ZACH, YOU ARE UNIQUELY AND WONDERFULLY MADE. YOU ARE LOVED NOT ONLY BY YOUR PARENTS BUT BY GOD. I PRAY THAT YOU CAN COME TO A POINT IN YOUR LIFE OF TRUE REPENTANCE AND REALIZE THAT SERVING THE LORD IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN ANY ONE HAS EVER TOLD YOU. GOD HAS AN AWESOME PLAN FOR YOUR LIFE, PORN IS NOT A PART OF IT. PERVERSION AND ALL THE OTHER SIN YOU ARE ENTANGLED IN IS ALSO NOT A PART OF IT. I WILL PRAY THAT GOD REVEALS HIMSELF TO YOU IN A WAY THAT ONLY HE CAN, A WAY THAT YOU WILL KNOW THAT YOU KNOW THAT IT IS HIM. AND I KNOW MY GOD, HE WILL DO IT. I AM PRAYING FOR YOU AND HOPE TO ONE DAY BE ABLE TO MEET YOU IF I EVER COME TO FLORIDA. -some anonymous guy

First of all, I'd like to thank this guy for at least being concerned about me and being aware of my dad's health. That's more than a lot of people who've posted bad comments have said. I may be twisted in some ways, but I still do have a heart.

However, as for anyone who doesn't like my blog, I gotta take a few spiteful jabs at this guy (I won't set him ablaze, like I do to my other victims)

Hey Pastor! First of all, who are you to tell someone that they are posessed by demons or that they have something seriously wrong with them? Doesn't the Bible TELL you not to judge? But I do believe that you're on to something. I found this in my bedroom last night:

http://www.onlineseats.com/upload/concerts/598_con_billoreillycol.jpg

Bill O'Reilly! What did you think? A demon? C'mon.

I do believe in God, but you've gotta be evenly balanced. You can't let your religion take you over. I believe that you should guide your kids in some sort of religious way. At least give them certain morals and beliefs. If you don't, they will come out doing the sort of stuff I poke fun of a lot. So with that, I leave you with "Old Ladies on Trampolines."

Ahhhh, Fuck

2005-09-18T20:50:00.000-04:00

Before I begin, I would like to say thanks to everyone who reads this and supports me. It means a lot to me. I started this just to make my friends laugh and it seems that it has come to be an appreciated blog. It means a lot to me.

Well, I took a break from Grand Theft Auto: Vice City to write this. I would like to start off by saying this: HILARY CLINTON, PLEASE GO FUCK YOURSELF. I hate you hippie Democrats. The world of politics is a lose-lose situation. If you vote democrat, say goodbye to guns and violent games. If you vote Republican, you lose all of your fucking money. Please, Hilary, it's not like us teenage kids are influenced by these games. It's all a myth.

Anyway, I've been trying to re-create my greatest moments on GTA using my dog as the target. So far my greatest re-enactment involved me pretending that my dog was a hooker. I banged her and then drowned the bitch (hahaha it's literally a bitch hahaha OMG PWNT LOLLERSKATES). Damn, I'm gonna miss that dog.

Do you believe in miracles? My Tampa Bay Buccaneers are 2-0 so far this season. How the hell? I thought we sucked. This could only mean one thing: The hand of the almighty Lord himself has touched them. God, if you're reading this, I repent.

So, do you wanna know how my school year is going so far? Me neither. But I'll give you a little bit in my life. I have the most crowded bus in the school. Not just a little uncomfortable, I mean it's more crowded than a slave ship. The bus is supposed to hold 60 to 65 people. (that's the biggest bus they make. Speaking of big buses, I wish I had a bigger bus if you know what I mean) Our bus has easily 90 people on it. There's three people to a seat when there's only supposed to be two to a seat. I remember one incident in particular. A while back, this past Friday to be precise, I had to wake my ass up after a marathon guitar practice session the previous night. I ran out the door to catch the bus just in time. I had to sit next to two fat, ugly chicks. Now I hate fat chicks (or at least the ones that I've met so far), so I'm already thinking "don't say anything stupid." So of course they do. It wasn't just anything stupid, It was one thing in particular that I hate: male strippers. I hate male strippers because I didn't get a job as one. They said they needed somebody that didn't have bony arms and a farmers tan. So, these twats go into great detail about this male stripper. It was excruciating. I even had his taste in my mouth as I walked into my first period class.

I also somehow managed to do great on my progress reports. I only got one "D." Of course I only got one "A," and even that came in weight training class. As long as I dress out and do a couple of 5 pounder curls, I get an A. But nonetheless, I'm still mega proud of myself.

As I said in my previous post, I am going to be a rock star. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I've figured out who my first groupie will be. Check this out http://www.karisweets.com. You like? I do. I can't wait until I get to bang her. Kari, if you're reading this, I love you. I want to be yours ever truly. I wanna make your gardens grow. Yes, from the houses of the holy, we can watch the white doves go. From the door comes Satan's daugh....... Fuck. Had a Zeppelin moment. But I still love you, Kari.

Anyway, among having my evil ways with Kari, I have other goals for my life. Here they are:

1)Get a restraining order.
2)Rob a 7-Eleven.
3)Kill a hooker (It's Grand Theft Auto's fault. Take 'em down, Hilary)

I feel that these are great long term goals.

Anywho, I will end with an essay that I wrote for school. The prompt was "How much money would you need to be happy and what would you spend it on?" I don't have the actual essay, because my mom found it and showed it to my youth pastor. But I just about memorized the damn thing word for word before she got a hold of it. Here it goes:

To be happy, I would need at least 380 trillion dollars. This money would be very useful. I would use it to buy a mansion with a state-of-the-art security system. I would need this security system because my mansion would be in Mexico.

Adjacent to the mansion would be a slightly smaller mansion where I could hide the bodies of family members and women who've rejected me. Along with this mansion, I would buy the Lysol factory so I wouldn't have to worry about the smell.

I would also have Larry the Cable Guy as my personal slave. I would give him everything he needs: a pickup truck and his sister or cousin. However, I would make him hunt for his own food in retribution for how much pain his comedy has caused me. If he is caught taking food from the premises of either of my mansions, (That's right, he can't eat the dead chicks either.) he will be shot on sight.

I would also buy Carmen Electra and Estella Warren as my personal love toys. I would have my evil ways with them whenever I want to. When I'm done, I could probably con them on the pay seeing as neither of them strike me as bright individuals.

Finally, I would do something less selfish seeing as I am a kind person. Along with all the "me things," I would donate a large portion of my money to help feed starving African children. Oh, wait, just kidding.

Just Stopping By

2005-09-11T22:32:00.000-04:00

I hope that nobody suspects that I'm dead. Sorry for the lack of updates. I haven't been able to touch a fucking computer for 2 weeks. I was at my mom's house (the computer there has come up more HIV positive than Magic Johnson himself) and I was at Universal Studios until this afternoon. I promise for a kick-ass update next week seeing as I can only make a short one now.

TO JESSICA RABBIT: Looking for a man? I'm all yours baby ;) xoxoxo Call me.

TO LOLALANE: I'll mail you that fudge brownie if you cover shipping costs and the postage stamp.

I'd also like to inform everyone that I'm making a career change (although I haven't even fucking started the first one). I've switched from golf to guitar. I figured out that there was no fucking way that I'd be a pro in golf, so I've switched to the sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll lifestyle. I'm starting a rock band (blues and classic rock rooted) and I'll be playing lead guitar. So far (Besides me, silly goose) I have a bass player and a rythym guitarist. I need a GREAT drummer (I emphasize GREAT) and a lead singer that sounds similar to Robert Plant/Steven Tyler (Preferably a good-looking, long haired guy because the lead singer has to be the guy we market). I've started writing 3 songs so far and I have the band named. However, I can't give any of this information because I'm far too protective of it. I don't want anybody stealing my shit. Anywho, that's all. I'm out.

PS- I'm in deep shit with my youth pastor over an essay I wrote. I'll tell you about it next week.

Replies

2005-08-25T16:25:00.000-04:00

My answers in bold because I'm much gooder.

Anonymous Fucktard said...
3 Questions,
1.Where do babies come from?
2.Is there a god?
3.Are you ever going to get a girlfriend and stop jacking off?

1) Hell
2) Yes, he is the one answering this question
3) No, but I hope the roof of your double-wide trailer caves in and collapses on you. Oh, and thanks, Jesse.

AJ said...
Zach,

So straight to the point,how many people have you sucked off to get to the top?Also, what's this rumor about you, fudge brownies, anal sex and cuban cigars?

- Honesty would be your best answer, seriously dude.

I haven't had to suck off anyone, but I have had to sleep with numerous people. People like your mom, your sister, your girlfriend, your mistress, your girlfriend's girlfriend, and so on and so forth.

The rumor has been blown way out of proportion. You see, I like to have anal sex with my girlfriend while stuffing fudge brownies down her mouth. Afterwards, I'll celebrate with a cuban cigar.

mrshife said...

What do chickens think we taste like?

Well, if rats taste like chicken on Survivor, I would have to assume it would be the other way around for chickens.

And BipolarPrincess, thanks for the story. I can only imagine what you've done to those poor piglets through buying this game :)

Ask Zach

2005-08-21T20:08:00.000-04:00

A quick post just to let everyone know that I'm still alive. But anyway, my birthday is in two weeks and I'd love for somebody to mail me Grand Theft Auto San Andreas or Vice City. It would be much appreciated.

Anyway, I'm trying something new. Ask whatever your hearts desire. I'll reply with a smart-ass remark (Hey, after all, you're asking ME the question). I'll make a new post to answer everyone's questions. Unfortunately, you'll have to wait until next weekend for me to reply to you. I am unable to write on weekdays.

Loathe/hate/despise,

Zach

School Blows Monkey Cock

2005-08-13T20:23:00.000-04:00

Well, somebody wrote this as a comment on my top blog crap-a-ma-bob. Here's what they wrote:

"Too bad you cannot see that the World is a special place. Whatever you see that sucks is unfortunate for you. Wake up again and see if you can smell the roses. Just a suggestion."

Smell the roses? You figure if they're criticizing my writing, they'd have come up with something more origional. Hey pal, why don't you go fuck your mother? Is that a thought? Come up with something new. And stop being such a pussy about what you write. If you think my blog blows, just fucking say it. To you, I hope you have an accident in your yard that causes you to be sterile. So, in other words, I hope your dick gets chopped off by the lawnmower so you can't have any kids who turn out to be as much of a loser as you are, faggot.

So, I'll now move on to shcool and the couple of days before and after it that were actually meaningful. Tuesday I went to get my physical for golf. I ended up in a room that had some sick images. It had an advertisement for an inhaler, a picture of a wrist (trust me, it'll get sick), a poster for prostate exams that had pictures of dicks (told ya it would get sick), and a box full of KY Jelly. I like to believe that wherever you go, if you look hard enough, there is a message for you. So, I took this message to mean something like this: Jerking off (wrist and prostate poster) without lube (KY Jelly) leads to asthma. What the fuck? Jerking off without lube leads to asthma? Ok, so maybe there isn't a message everywhere you go. The physical examination sucked and isn't worth going into (from the doctor's point of view, that is)

Wednesday was the first day of school and my teachers sucked. Well, except for my Geometry teacher (OMG! A junior in geometry! I'm such a loser LOL!). He kinda looks like Johnny Depp if you're blind and lost in thought.

I did, however, make my school year resolution on Wednesday. I vowed that I'd get laid at least 20 times this year. I know that'll never happen, but I'll try. The reason I set the bar so high is so I have some margin of error. If I say that I'll get laid by 20 hot chicks, I'll get laid by at least one hot chick and two fat chicks. If I only set the bar at 10, I'd only get a fat chick and a guy.

Thursday, I got an essay for English. Of course I put a bunch of bullshit. There's no other way to do it. The rest of the day blew.

Friday was cool because I didn't have to go to school the next day. When I got home, I took a huge dump. I seriously considered considered calling the paramedics. I can only imagine how the call would have gone:

911: 911, what's your emergency?
ME: I just took a dump so big that there's a 90 percent chance that my turds are radioactive.
911: We can't do much about that.
ME: I could have a serious problem with my stomach.
911: We'll send an ambulance down to pick you up.
ME: Just kidding, you tool. There's nothing wrong with my stomach. But I'm scared as shit to go anywhere near the bathroom. I highly advise you to send a nuclear physicist to handle this radioactive waste.
911: I'll see what I can do.
ME: Even better, send Sally Struthers to fish the crap out. There's enough shit in this toilet to feed all of the starving African children until they're 35.
911: Sir, I'm going to hang up now.
ME: No problem. I'll flush it down. If it's brown, flush it down! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! But seriously, if my toilet explodes you know that you owe me a new one, right?
911: (hangs up)

As you can see, it wouldn't have gone very well.

Today, I tried to call the girl I like. She hung up on me. I'll stop pursuing her from now on. I don't want to look like a fucking rapist. If I build a reputation for that, it'll be hard to reach my goal of getting laid 20 times.

Check This Out For Now...

2005-08-12T22:05:00.000-04:00

Until I am able to post my normal post tomorrow, read the latest person I've slammed on http://frankendickfightclub.blogspot.com. Somebody finally grew the balls to slam me.

For those of you who actually like reading my blog, I thank you. It means a whole lot to me. If you really love me, you'll click the "Vote Top Blog" button near the archives on the right sidebar.

Muchos Garcias (LOLOLOLOL),

Zach AKA Humberto

50 Things About Guys That Girls Don't Know (Part 2)

2005-08-07T13:43:00.000-04:00

Ok, I hope this is as good as the first part. If you haven't read the first part yet, read it you dumb shit. That is why this is clearly titled "Part 2." One comes before two, fucktard. Ok, here it goes.

26) Guys seek for advice from girls not other guys. Because most guys think alike, so if one guy's confused, then we're all confused. Oh, yeah. Great stereotyping, asshole. And do all guys get fat, drunk, and refuse to give up the remote during "the game?" I guess so.
27) Any guy could write out a rulebook or advice book for flirting, but no guy can write out a book about relationships. Really? I have one: Rule 1: Give her your credit card. Rule 2: It's ok if she beats the shit out of you, but don't lay one finger on her. That's what I have in the rulebook so far. Check back in three years and maybe I'll have it completed.
28) Try to be as straightforward as possible. Yoo gots to bee straytforwerd cuz us guys is stoopid. Piece of shit whores.
29) A guy has to experience rejection, because if he's too-good-never-been-busted, never been in love and hurt, he won't be mature and grown up. Yes, becoming a man. I was little. Now I strong like Hulk. AAAARRRRGGGHHH! Come on. Don't give me this "Becoming a Man" bullshit. Getting rejected has only taught me that 99 percent of women are stupid whores (1 percent that aren't whores are the gals who read my blog and enjoy it. Love ya!)
30) If the guy does something stupid in front of the girl, he will think about it for the next couple days or until the next time he spends time with the girl. God damn it! Why did I pull out my dick and start singing "Play That Funky Music, White Boy" in front of her? I'm SOOO stupid!
31) No matter how much guys talk about asses and boobs, personality is key. Oh yes, personality. My girl has to be funny, and sweet and..... Get real, faggots. If she has facial hair, I don't care how sweet and funny she is, there's no chance I'm screwing that nightmare.
32) Guys learn from experience not from the romance books that girls read and take as their basis of experience. No shit, Sherlock. I wouldn't be caught DEAD with a fucking romance novel. Any guy who reads Danielle Steele should be executed in public.
33) Guys worry about the thin line between being compassionate and being whipped. Jesus fucking Christ. Must you state the obvious?
34) If a guy looks unusually calm and laid back, he's probably faking it and is spazzing inside. Rephrase: If a guy looks unusually calm and laid back, check his underwear for pre-cum.
35) When a guy says he is going crazy about the girl, he really is. Guys rarely say that. Once again, rephrase: When a guy says he's going crazy about a girl, he really means he's going crazy over a guy and he's still "in the closet."
36) When a guy asks you to leave him alone, he's just actually saying, "Please come and listen to me." No, when I say "Leave me alone," I'm actually saying "Leave me the fuck alone, twat."
37) Guys don't really have final decisions. I always have final decisions. When I decide that I want to get laid, I'm not going to change my mind and decide to cuddle.
38) If a guy starts to talk seriously, listen to him. It doesn't happen that often, so when it does, you know something's up. Unless it's Bill O'Reilly. He talks serious all the time. That's one fucker with no sense of humor.
39) If your best guy friend seems to avoid you or is never around when you're with your boyfriend, he's probably jealous and likes you. Or in my case, the boyfriend can kick my ass and I don't want him to assume anything.
40) When a guy looks at you for longer than a second, he's definitely thinking something. Or he's a rapist/serial killer.
41) Guys like femininity not feebleness. Fuck no! I'll take a weak girl that I can control any day.
42) Guys don't like girls who punch harder than they do. No shit, because she's probably a dike if she punches that hard.
43) A guy has more problems than you can see with your naked eyes. Hey, watch me switch the words around and make this statement true: A guy has a lot of problems and the only thing that will help is seeing you naked with his eyes.
44) Don't be a snob. Guys can be intimidated and give up easily. Oooh, I'm scared of my annorexic love interest. Please, the only way she'd get me intimidated is if she made it into triple-digits in weight. Then I'd know something is wrong.
45) Everything in moderation. Put on makeup, wear perfume. Just not too much. Yeah, especially if you're known to wear enough perfume to kill any small animals standing within 15 feet of you.
46) Guys talk about girls more than girls talk about guys. Only if you're a pornstar, toots.
47) Guys hate rejection, but they hate being led on even more. I'd give my left nut to be led on. I need to know that the girl really likes me. Damn it, I've been so sure so many times yet I keep getting rejected. Fuck, just tell me to ask you out. Ok, that's all. "Zach's Bitch and Moan Time" is over.
48) Guys really think that girls are strange and have unpredictable decisions and are MAD confusing but somehow are drawn even more to them. Trying to sound cool by using the word "MAD" is like, MAD stupid, yo. Ya feel me, dawg?
49) A guy would give his left nut to be able to read a girl's mind for a day. Naw, I'd give my left nut to have X-Ray/Infrared vision so I can see through a chicks clothes. PS: Don't use my line, cocksuckers.
50) No guy can handle all his problems by his own. He's just too stubborn to admit it. Aww, such an emotional ending. Sniff, sniff. Go watch the fucking Lifetime Channel, pussies.

50 Things About Guys That Girls Don't Know (Part 1)

2005-08-05T16:02:00.000-04:00

I saw this on one of my friends myspace page. It is full of crap. I will prove it. Question (Not really a question, just points) in normal font, my response in bold.

1) Guys hate sluts. Really? Is that true. Not for me. I love easy girls. I need easy girls.
2) "Hey, are you busy?" or "Are you doing something?" ~ two phrases guys open with to stop from stammering on the phone. Wrong. Two phrases I use to restrain myself from asking "How big is your cunt?" or "How much tequila will I have to give you before you consider fucking me?"
3) Guys may be flirting around all day but before they go to sleep, they always think about the girl they truly care about. Actually, before I go to bed, I'm jerking it to the hottest piece of tail that I saw that day.
4) Before they call, guys try to plan out a little about what they're gonna say so there aren't awkward pauses, but once he's on the phone he forgets it all and makes it up as he goes. Of course I plan out my phone calls, but not as carefully as I plan out how I'm going to rape and murder the bitch.
5) Guys go crazy over a girl's smile. Smiles aren't erotic enough to make me excited. Show some tits and then I'll think about it.
6) Guys will do anything just to get you to notice him. That's true, including standing outside of your door at three in the morning with a knife and a bottle of Jack Daniels screaming "Cocktease!"
7) Guys hate it when you talk about your ex-boyfriend or ex love-interest. Unless they're goin for the let-her-complain-to-you-and-then-have-her-realize-how-wonderful-and-nice-you-are method. Go ahead, talk about him. He's probably better than I am anyway. But when I've cut open his stomach and ripped out his liver, I guarantee you'll think differently.
8) A guy who likes you wants to be the only guy you talk to. With the girls that I chase, I guess I'll allow her to talk to her boyfriend too.
9) Boyfriends need to be reassured often that they're still loved. Nah. Bullshit. I just need to be reassured that I'll be getting laid on the third Tuesday of every month.
10) Don't talk about your guy friends to your boyfriend. Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! By talking about my guy friends to me, you've eliminated any chance of me having a boner for the next three months.
11) Guys get jealous easily. Of what? The fact that you turn into a bitch 5 days out of every month and have to go through the pain of bearing my children? Try again, bimbo.
12) Guys are more emotional than they'd like people to think. It's true.... sniff sniff. I'm sipping Crystal Light and watching "Days of Our Lives" while I write this... sniff sniff. Get a clue, bitch.
13) Giving a guy a hanging message like "You know what?!..uh...nevermind.." would make him jump to a conclusion that is far from what you are thinking. And he'll assume he did something wrong and he'll obsess about it trying to figure it out. Actually, I'll just think "It's a miracle! The bitch forgot what she was going to say! Now I don't have to sit here for an hour while she reminds me that all I want is sex!"
14) Guys are good flatterers when courting but they usually stammer when they talk to a girl they really like. Example: "B...bbbb...baby? D...dddd... I mean... will.... you fuck mmmm..me in a science mmmm.. museum?"
15) Guys hate asking parents for money to buy girls presents. So they come up with ideas like saving their lunch money for a week. But it never works because guys are always hungry so they end up asking the parents for money anyway. Of course I get hungry, you dumb twats. Yeah, I NEVER get hungry. Do you think about these things before you write them, you impulsive bitch?
16) Girls are guys' weaknesses. Actually, my weakness is Lord Falknawk's Plasma Lazer Beam. It causes my Hit Points to go down 20 percent provided he has two Earth Cards and the coin he flips lands on heads.
17) Guys are very open about themselves. Hahahahaha! Oh my goodness, you haven't got the slightest clue. I don't share shit about myself.
18) It's good to test a guy first before you trust him. But don't let him wait too long. Test a guy? Do I have any holes? Are you trying to see if I'm a manufacturer's defect? How do you test me? Hit me with a hammer and see if I break. And if you wait too long, do I shoot out battery acid because of my rotten batteries?
19) Your best friend, whom your boyfriend seeks help from about his problems with you may end up being admired by your boyfriend. Hey, baby, why not? I'm always thinking about fucking your best friend.
20) If a guy tells you about his problems, he just needs someone to listen to him. You don't need to give advice. I don't tell anyone about my problems, I make fun of them in this blog, shitheads.
21) A usual act that proves that the guy likes you is when he teases you. Is this that "You hurt the ones you love" bullshit? I teased this retarded girl that liked me and I didn't feel any affection towards her. Rephrase: A usual act that proves that the guy likes you is when he teases you. That is, unless, you're autistic.
22) Guys love you more than you love them if they are serious in your relationships. "I love you more" "No, I love you more." "I love you even more" "No I love you more than you'll ever love me...." Please, shut the fuck up.
23) Guys will brag about anything. I have nothing to brag about... wait.... I found a penny..... it's on heads! Hey, you stupid bitch! I found a lucky penny! Put that in your bongpipe and smoke it!
24) Guys use words like hot or cute to describe girls. We rarely use beautiful. If a guy uses that, he likes you. Awww, beautiful. How romantic. Beautiful. See? I used it. I don't think I'm falling for somebody reading my blog right now. MY COCK IS BEAUTIFUL. Bet you don't want me to use the word 'beautiful' now. Unless you like being compared to cocks.
25) Guys think WAY too much. One small thing a girl does, even if she doesn't notice it can make the guy think about it for hours, trying to figure out what it meant. I'm thinking right now. I'm trying to figure out what the fuck you're trying to say.

Today's Music Sucks

2005-07-30T23:12:00.000-04:00

As many of you are aware, I shall be going back to school soon. I might only be able to post once a week, sometimes less since the computer at my mom's house is HIV positive. With school back, I get to listen to teenagers play their shitty music which they think is cool. I will give some reviews of todays hit songs. I may not get all of them, but I'll damn sure try.

Gwen Stefani-Hollaback Girl: To insult this song would be a waste of my precious time. I should use this time to do something fun and useful, like saw off my balls. Apparrently, this bitch is so proud that she can spell bananas. Yeah, I hope she chokes on a banana while trying to eat it and sing this song at the same time.

Gwen Stefani-Rich Girl: Just awful. Next.

Gwen Stefani-Cool: If your song is featured on this post, it is not cool.

Ciara-Goodies: Ciara, you were born a hermaphrodite. Nobody wants your goodies.

Green Day-American Idiot: Is the opening line to the song "Do you wanna be an American Idiot?" Sorry Green Day, you beat me to it.

Black Eyed Peas-Don't Phunk With My Heart: Why can't you just say "Don't Fuck With My Heart?" What's so difficult about that? PS- That girl singer is ugly and one of your band members looks like Weird Al Yankovich.

Black Eyed Peas-Let's Get It Started: Let's not get it started. I hated this song since I saw it on that stupid fucking NBA Playoffs commercial. The NBA sucks and so do you. PS- That girl is still ugly and that freak still looks like Weird Al. This isn't helping you sell records.

Fall Out Boy-Sugar, We're Going Down: Punk rock sucked enough before they had a song with the word "Sugar" in it. What are you, a pussy? Strangle yourselves with spare guitar strings.

System of a Down-B.Y.O.B.: What the fuck is that stupid guitar part in the beginning? It sounds like potheads attempting to play Van Halen's "Eruption Solo." This doesn't make you a good guitar player. PS- Drop D tuning is for faggots.

50 Cent-Candy Shop: Horrible. All rap is horrible. If you listen to rap, you are a trendy douchebag and you should have your limbs chopped up in a Cuisinart. And to all you rappers: Tupac sucks! I'm glad he's dead. Shoot me now, motherfuckers! What, are you gonna dig up his body, place a gun in his cold hand and prop him up so he can shoot me? Tupac isn't gonna come back and kill me, you dipshits. And 50 Cent, you are one ugly motherfucker.

Akon-Lonely: What the fuck? Why do dumb teenagers have to eat this shit up? Chipmunks on crack. This song is worse than "Hollaback Girl," and that's pretty fucking shitty. I hate American teenagers. You suck. This makes me wish that you could abort a child until he reaches the age of 30. Ultra-super-late term abortion. This is why I hate the Right-Wing Christian movement. Yes, we know about Christians, and yes, we hate you. I think Muslim extremists should bomb Pentacostal Churches instead of business offices and government buildings. So to sum it up: this is the worst song in America right now.

Wheezer-Beverly Hills: You know how I said that "Lonely" was the worst song in America right now? I take that back. I just listened to this monstrosity and it's actually worse. If these songs keep getting shittier, I will take the shoelaces out of my shoes and hang myself with them. It is a two chord song with horrible singing. Two power chords, wow. That's fucking talent. They're not even played that fast so that their guitar player, who must be Corky from "Life Goes On," can get his fucking fingers in the right place to play the next chord.

Carrie Underwood-Inside Your Heaven: This bitch clearly can not sing. I'd still hit that shit, though. She's fucking hot.

Anything by Toby Keith: Country sucks, and this guy is the worst of it. You wanna know how I know this. Just do these two things: 1) Listen to ANY of his songs, and, 2) Look at his fans. His fans have to be the dumbest group of rednecks ever. And of course, he has the generic, overused country voice. Why do all country artists feel the need to sound exactly the same? It seems that whenever somebody tries something different, that's what every other goddamn country artist must do. Fuck country music. I hope somebody bombs the Country Music Awards. They truly deserve it.

U2-Vertigo: U2 is back! I thought they couldn't top how bad they were before, but they managed to prove me wrong once again. Bono, quit acting like you know Spanish. You fucking count in the wrong order. "Once, dos, tres, catorce." If I were to translate that literally, you said one the wrong way, then proceeded to two and three (correctly, thank God), and then said "Fuck all of the other numbers, I'm going straight to fourteen." And of course, the wonderful bridge, in which you say "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Great fucking songwriting, imbeciles.

Ying Yang Twins-Wait (The Whisper Song): Anyone who writes a song that does nothing but talk about screwing a hot chick and how he has a big dick obviously just got done fucking a fattie and has a raw, two-inch penis. YING YANG TWINS! I HAVE SOME ADVICE: THE MORE YOU TALK ABOUT HOW BIG YOUR DICK IS, THE MORE PEOPLE KNOW THAT YOU'RE LYING!

Pretty Ricky-Grind With Me: He should be shot solely because the only word he used to describe himself was "pretty." Then he makes a song about getting laid. If you're a man and you're calling yourself pretty, I don't think many girls will fuck you.

T.I.-U Don't Know Me: Why do all rappers feel the need to make a song explaining to the world that we don't know them. What, do I have his number programmed into my cell phone? Let me check.... NO! I'm glad that I don't know you, because after hearing this song, I really don't want to.

Well, that's all. Goodbye now.

The East Wing: Episode 2 (What's Up With My Mothafuckin' Approval Ratings, Mothafucka?)

2005-07-29T20:38:00.000-04:00

Opening scene: President Stevens in front of the TV watching NBC Nightly News. Shitty music starts, announcer comes on shortly after: "NBC Nightly News with Tom Jerkoff." Cut to anchorman: "Tom Jerkoff is out with a three-dollar hooker this evening, so I'm some dumb guy filling in for him. Tonight, a young girl dies trying to save her kitten from a tree and the PETA are still a bunch of Nazi assholes. But first, we go out to Washington D.C. where Sugarpie Honeybun brings us breaking news. Sugarpie?" (Hot blonde correspondant): "Yes, some dumb guy filling in for Tom Jerkoff, this is bad news for President Stevens. His approval ratings have dropped from 97 percent to 5 percent after he said, quote, 'Gay marriage is kinda sorta okay with me.' This comes as shocking news to people suffering from Down's Syndrome and Cuban immigrants who don't understand English. Back to you, some dumb guy filling in for Tom Jerkoff."

"Secretary Bimbo? Approval ratings have dropped. Get me the President." said Stevens as he turned off the TV.
"Umm, sir, you are the President." said Secretary Ima Bimbo.
"Ahh, fuck. That's right. Bring in Tom Ridge so I can kick him in the balls."
"Right away, sir." said Secretary Bimbo.
"Yes, Mr. President?" asked Ridge.
"You're a bitch!" yelled President Stevens as he kicked Tom Ridge in the balls.
"Only on Thursdays." said Ridge, clenching his balls.
"My approval ratings have dropped!" shouted Stevens.
"How the fuck is that my fault?" asked Ridge.
"Holy shit, you said a swear word. That's the first time I've heard you swear. I guess you're not too bad. Now get the fuck out of here." said Stevens.
"Yes, Mr. President." replied Ridge.
"One more thing." said Stevens. President Stevens walked over to Tom Ridge and kicked him in the balls again.
"Mr. President?" said Ima Bimbo over the loudspeaker.
"Yes, cunt." replied Stevens.
"There are protesters outside and they want you to deliver a speech."
"Thank you, cocktease. I've got one prepared already." said Stevens.
Stevens walked outside to the portesters chanting "Fuck the queers! Kill them all!" and "That kid Zach who writes the 'Blow Me' blog is a dumb fucking douche!" (fuck, wasn't supposed to say that.) President Stevens walks outside and shouts "Shut the fuck up!" He then delivers this speech:
"I hate faggots as much as you do. This is all a nasty rumor that started on 'Entertainment Tonight.' You know that they're the dumb cocks who say that Lindsay Lohan isn't eating. And I know that's not true because she was eating my ass last night. So there it is. I hate gays! The only thing they should take up the ass is a bullet!" The crowd of protesters quickly change their mind and cheer on Stevens. However, they leave in a hurry to go burn some gays and Jews.
"So how was I?" asked Stevens, winking at Tom Ridge.
"Wonderful. You've really got them fooled, schnookums." said Ridge, leaning forward to kiss Stevens. (Note: I know that this makes no fucking sense. This is a shitty dramatic twist with no real reason behind it. I learned how to do this by watching "The O.C.")
"Tommy, you realize that we can't tell anyone about this, right?" asked Stevens.
"Of course, darling." replied Ridge.
"God, I'm so fuckin' horny!" said Stevens. Stevens kissed Ridge tenderly on the cheek, working his way down to the neck. They both stripped out of their clothes and felt over each others bare bodies. Ridge stuck his big, hard cock in Stevens' mouth. Ridge's cock reminded him of a hot dog, except that it was sweaty, hairy, and tasted like piss. Okay, so maybe it wasn't like a hot dog.

Ridge loved the way Stevens sucked. It was getting to the point that he couldn't take it anymore. Finallly, he shot out a cum missile that..... AHHH! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! NO MORE GAY SEX SCENES!

TO BE CONTINUED NEXT EPISODE!

I Will Never Vote

2005-07-23T21:57:00.000-04:00

This will be a somewhat serious blog. It will be funny in some parts, but I figured that it was time for an intelligent post. Don't worry, the next post will be the second episode to "The East Wing." Well, enjoy my political commentary even though I don't know shit about politics.

America has officially gone down the shitter. What the fuck happened to the sense of pride we had right after September 11th? It's almost four years later and the only thing I've learned is that The Who's "We Won't Get Fooled Again" is a kick-ass song. That was the only song I heard on the radio for 5 months after 9-11. Even the rap stations played it. Everybody loved Bush right after September 11th, now he's the world's biggest dickhead. He went into a war that everyone told him not to go into. He basically told the UN to shove big, black dildos up their asses. He put us into a war (mind you we didn't even FINISH the first one) for a reason that was false. Saddam wouldn't allow weapons anywhere near his country after the first time we kicked his ass. He was running the country with an iron fist. Sure, he gassed his own countrymen, but how the fuck is that our problem? We started a war to get higher gas prices and women's voting rights in Iraq and Afghanistan. Yeah, and that was worth the thousands of soldiers we've lost in the war. Can you imagine being the child of a soldier lost in the war, never seeing or knowing who your father was?

What's the other reason for the war? Saddam was hiding bin Laden? Bullshit. You wanna know who is hiding Osama? Look no further than our allies: the Saudi Arabians. Osama himself is Saudi, you douchebags in government. And you're saying it was Hussein? I didn't know that America was this stupid. The Saudis gave him a shitload of money (on top of the money he got from his father) and told him to fuck off. The CIA founded bin Laden and his "freedom fighters" in the 70's to fight against Russia. Wow, we support a guy who's going to bomb our country just so we can defeat our future allies. Nice job, shitheads.

That doesn't even piss me off that much. What pisses me off the most is that we jumped into a war before we even killed the motherfucker who bombed us in the first place. Osama has to make tapes of himself jumping up and down, flailing his arms in the air just to get a half of a minute on the news. HE'S ALIVE! If he's still alive, he's still a threat. Do you know how many crazy Arabs want to work for him? With the money he has, it's no problem for him to make a September 11th sequel. Another thing about the war in Iraq is that we attacked a country that didn't even have weapons, yet we negotiate with North Korea who told the world that they had nuclear (not NUKE-U-LUR, President Bush) weapons and the rest of the world can fuck themselves if they opposed this. Wow, what a Cracker Jack Government. A surprise in every fucking box. So to sum up President Bush, I think he's an asshole and I wish he's have flown on TWA Flight 800.

And John Kerry sucks too. He has the debate skills of a fucking Guinea Pig. He could have brought up millions of flawas of Bush's first term, but he didn't. All he did was remind us that the economy sucks and that Dick Cheney's daughter is a dike. Way to go, by doing this you lost an election that was impossible to lose. You're a fucking moron, John Kerry.

This brings me to the point that I stated in the title. I've never voted and I don't plan on voting. All of the candidates are full of shit. Sure, I had an opinion. I'd have rather seen Kerry in office than Bush, but if they both died in a hotel fire a week before the election, it wouldn't have affected my life one bit. That's why I didn't talk much about the election with my friends, because I simply did not care. Why the fuck did teenagers need to get involved in the election? You're not voting, dipshits. Nobody gives a shit about your opinions. When you get your voter registration card, then we'll talk. Until then, do what I do and stick to porn instead of getting involved in politics. I remember on the day of the election hearing a teenage girl on the radio say "If we elect Kerry, we destroy what the founding fathers worked for." Right. We all know that anarchy starts by electing an organized government, isn't that right you dumb whore. To the girl on the radio who said that, this is my reply: I don't want to see you open your mouth again unless a dick is going in it. Is he going to make abortions mandatory? I sure hope so if future generations of children are going to be anything like her. And why do Kerry supporters feel the need to compare Bush to Hitler, and vice versa? Hey, you dolts, Bush and Kerry aren't Hitler. HITLER is Hitler. Until I see footage of Bush building gas chambers in the oval office, you fuckfaces can suck a retarded boy's dick.

I read two political blogs, a conservative one and one written by a liberal. The conservative blog (thejessefactor.com) was actually intelligent and made me think that Bush might actually have an IQ in double digits. The liberal, (youngliberal.blogspot.com) on the other hand, did nothing but insult The Jesse Factor and reminded me that Kerry's supporters were also dickheads who should be shoved in front of a moving train. Young Liberal went grade-school on Jesse. As a matter of fact, calling his insults "grade school level" would be an insult to many Elementary School kids. Chris Bilal (writer of Young Liberal), I've seen better jokes on Pop-Sicle sticks. So needless to say, that blog made me feel differently about Kerry and his supporters.

Well, since I am not a Democrat or a Republican, I'm faced with one question: What do I do? Should I vote for Ralph Nader? Then I'm throwing away my vote because only hippies and Star Trek geeks vote for Nader, so I might as well not vote at all. I think America should vote ME for President. But that's not going to happen. I can hope for all of America to not vote one year, but there's more of a chance of Dat Phan becoming funny than that happening. But something needs to be done to show these dishonest pricks that they need to change their act. So I guess all I can do to protest is give up my right to vote in the next election.

I Hate Cute Couples

2005-07-21T20:05:00.000-04:00

I am finally able to update. I was writing another one, about why I will never vote, but that is on hold for now. So anyway, back to the subject. How many times have you seen cute, internet couples telling the world how "in love" they are? Far too many times. It usually looks something like this:

BeachBabyAngelGurl729: Ooh, u my boo. I luv u sooo much.
BigDaddy98773648938726284 version 7.721: oooh baby, i luv u too. this shit gonna last 4ever
BeachBabyAngelGurl729: ooh, baby i wish u were here
BigDaddy98773648938726284 version 7.721: ooh, me 2

If you've seen it once, you've seen it far too many times. They always have the most generic, overused screen names too. For cunts (I shall refer to these internet whores as cunts instead of women. They are not worthy of the title "woman.") it's usually something with the words "BeachBabe," "Angel," or "CutiePie" with an "xoxoxoxoxo" thrown in there somewhere. For dickhead losers (once again, they are not worthy of the title "man") it involves something to do with a sport, or it has something "daddy" in it. "PimpDaddy" SugarDaddy" "BigDaddy." Hey, you dipshits, I'll allow you to keep the word "daddy" as long as you put the word "AIDS" in front of it.

The funniest thing about internet couples is the fact they think their relationship is going to last. Maybe on E-Harmony, but E-Harmony is full of ugly chicks. Even the girls on the commercial are ugly. The guys are all just fat losers. If the commercial shows ugly people, the people that are actually on the site are going to be twice as ugly. Every time I see an E-Harmony commercial, I think of Mad TV's "Lowered Expectations," which is one of the very few funny things on Mad TV. But anyway, it seems that the internet couples think they're really in love. Oh, so you met your girlfriend on Myspace, great. You fell in love after receiving 20 bulletins filled with nothing but junk and chain letters. You two must really love each other. So you live in California and she lives in Arkansas? Oh, man, talk about a strong relationship. I bet you're ready to propose to her right now. So you had cyber sex with her three times last night? I bet you wore her out. So answer one question for me. She's really a model AND likes everything you like even though she stated on her page that she hates 90 percent of the hobbies you have listed? Are you sure she isn't a 45 year old obese member of NAMBLA? Ok, I'll believe that she really who she says she is even though her pictures on her Myspace page are stolen from last month's issue of CosmoGirl.

For the cunts, this is what I have to say: So, he only lives 2,500 miles away, huh. Bet that's just a bike ride for you, isn't it you overcommited, naive bitch? So he says he's interested in your personality, not the fact that you've posted pictures that show everything but the nipples? One thing, if he hasn't met you and he's only interested in your personality, he's either still "in the closet" or he's a rapist. For you, I hope it's the latter. You sweet thing. If you don't take your clothes of now I will shoot you. That's right, bitch! It's my way or the wood chipper way! What do you want bitch? Oh, yeah, suck it har....... Sorry, kinda lost myself. She's really fucking hot. I was only interested in the pussy anyway. I was gonna pull a "hit it, then murder it."

I hate cute couples, too. The ones who are really in love. The couples whose marriages will last 50 years. I hope one of the partners are killed in a horrible plane crash, or the woman ends up getting alzheimers, forgets who the husband is causing the man to get so depressed that he kills himself. Why can't I get that? I thought I was in love. She would ask me every day how my dad was and if I needed any help. Sure, she's beautiful, but I fell for her because she was funny and was genuinely concerned with how I was doing. Or at least I thought she was concerned. I would have sold my soul for her until I called her yesterday and her brother answered the phone. I asked for her, and her brother told her that it was me. All of a sudden, I hear her shout "No, no, no!" Her brother then tells me she can't come to the phone, which is bullshit, of course. I heard her yell, so she obviously has no interest in talking to me. I tried to ask her to the movies, but she said she was grounded, which was another lie. She told me she was grounded for another week, yet I tried to call again today and she's out visiting her friends. I was completely crushed. Here I am, my stepmom and dad dealing with cancer, barely making ends meet because they've missed so much work, and then this shit happens. I can't get a goddamn thing. My golf game is horrible, meaning the promise to get on the PGA Tour for my dad isn't likely. Well anyway, I'll stop bitching now.

I now don't believe in God or "true love." That's right, God doesn't exist. If he does, I'll say this: GOD, IF YOU'RE LISTENING, YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE! FUCK YOU! YOU GIVE MY PARENTS CANCER, YET USHER IS THE FUCKING HEALTHIEST PERSON ON EARTH? YOU'RE A DICKHEAD!" I hate love and religion. I don't want to become a mysogenist, but now I feel like I am slowly sliding that way. If I get married, this is all I want to hear: "Sorry dinner is late, honey (rubs black eye). No, I don't mind if you fuck my sister." Fuck true love. Cunts suck.

UPDATE: I decided to add my dating rules if anyone is interested.

Rule 1) You're a dumb cunt who is only interested in my money until proven otherwise.
Rule 2) If your screenname features "xoxoxoxoxo" or the words babygurl, beachbaby, hotangel, or luvn4u, I will not date you but I will hang you with the rope I bought at Wal-Mart. Rule 3) If you have siblings that are overprotective or just plain suck, kill them or else I won't date you.
Rule 4) If you don't visit FRANKENDICK.BLOGSPOT.COM, please die in a boating accident. Rule 5) I hate your parents
Rule 6) If you give more than a three minute "autobiography" of yourself on our first date, I better be getting my dick sucked.
Rule 7) If you make comparisons between me and your ex-boyfriend, you will end up in the woodchipper like the last girl that did that.
Rule 8) Under no circumstances are you to call me your "boo." I don't care how sweet you think it is. It is annoying and I hate Usher with a passion. You can call me "limp dick," "shit mouth," or even "faggot," but you can not call me anything with the word "boo" in it; especially if you sing it to me.
Rule 9) Don't send me chain letters trying to win me over. You can send me chain letters, but if you do you're only wasting your time because they will be deleted.
Rule 10) I don't care how hip you are, use whole words when typing me an e-mail. If you write something like "hey baby how u duin, i just be c-in how u is, i luv u n hope u dnt leev me. tc, c u l8r," you will be shot right when I meet you. is dat ok wit u, bbydol?
Rule 11) I'm the funniest guy you know. If you think differently, I'm sure a death threat in the mail will fix that.
Rule 12) I don't care how many celebrities you know. Celebrities suck and I hope they get tortured like that guy in "The Passion of the Christ."
Rule 13) One more thing: fuck you! Have a nice day, bitch!

Love,

Zach

Sorry

2005-07-17T22:13:00.000-04:00

Sorry, but I still haven't been able to update. It will come, be patient. As many of you know, my primary goal is getting on the PGA Tour, so this comes second. The weather has been good lately and I have been working hard on my game. Updates will come, slowly but surely. I am currently working on three posts, including the much anticipated second episode to "The East Wing." Be patient you faggots, and post comments to show me that you love me. If you don't, I hope that you are executed in front of your mother as she cries for mercy.

Your PIMP advisor,

Zach

Why No Updates?

2005-07-09T11:14:00.000-04:00

Sorry that I haven't updated lately. I'm writing something that's gonna be pretty kick-ass, and I'll post it once I finish it. It won't be as funny as most of my other posts, but I think it will bring up a lot of good points for once. Oh, one more thing: Go fuck yourself.

Regards,

Zach

The East Wing: Episode 1 (TV Pilot Episode)

2005-06-25T17:10:00.000-04:00

Due to the success of my Superhero movie, I'm going into the TV business. Because this is a TV show, it will be a whole season of episodes (not just a couple of parts) and will be spread out between regular posts instead of being done in consecutive posts. This is a spoof of the government drama shows such as "24" and "The West Wing." With that being said, let's start the show.

The story starts when Saudi terrorist Mohammad bin Sheetin bombs a "Burning Man" festival, killing four people and injuring seven others. With the elevated terror alert level, the operators at Washington D.C. Terrorist and Pest Control Headquarters must check in on the status of terrorists every three days instead of being able to download porn 24/7. Now that President Mike Stevens (President Bush, VP Cheney, SecState and SecTreasury were all killed in an outbreak of herpes) can no longer download images of zebras fucking blonde bitches all day, he becomes extremely pissed and blames the whole situation on Homeland Security. He calls Tom Ridge a cocksmoking douche and tells him to go fuck a goat immediately, to which Tom Ridge replies "Look, Mr. President, I hate this situation as much as you do. I can no longer get my fill of gay porn. Do you think I'm happy about that?" President Stevens shakes his head and says to Ridge "You're a faggot and I hope your mom gets run over by the ice cream man." Extremely agitated, President Stevens shouts "Get me some goddamn coffee and formaldehyde!" President Stevens is an avid necrophiliac and must have formaldehyde in his morning coffee. The coffee seems to calm him, although the formaldehyde nearly kills him. Stevens' habit of necrophilia seems to annoy his wife, Shaneequa, but she puts up with it seeing as he isn't shoving his cock down Monica Lewinsky's throat. Shaneequa is an obese black lady and President Stevens often gets fantasies of cheating on her. He doesn't because Shaneequa is a surgeon who specializes in sex changes.

It's now 3:20 in the morning (the president is also an insomniac) and Stevens is on Google looking for terrorists with the first name of "Orville." This search is completely useless, as the only thing he came up with was a link to the website of a popcorn company. Exasperated, he forced himself to go to sleep so he wouldn't fall asleep during the environmental issues briefing. He probably would fall asleep anyway, because he didn't give a shit about the environment. It was obvious if you looked at the fact htat he had manatee fins for dinner the night before.

It's 6:30 in the morning, and President Stevens' secretary walks into the oval office, placing a note under the Adolf Hitler paperweight on his desk. The note said this: "The environmental issues briefing will start in approximately one hour. PS- Senator Fitzgerald's mom brought in Cheetos and cucumber-flavored Snapple for everyone to enjoy after the meeting."

"Holy shit! One hour? That's when the Blue Collar TV marathon starts! Fuck" said Stevens.

Even though he missed the first seven minutes of Blue Collar TV, President Stevens thought the meeting was quite interesting. They came up with a solution for global warming. It involved killing Colombian drug lords and using their bodies to patch up the hole in the ozone layer. He still didn't like missing the first third of Blue Collar TV, though. He was interrupted again when his secretary paged him over the intercom.

"Mr. President?"
"What, you bitch, I'm watching Blue Collar TV!"
"Tom Ridge wishes to speak with you."
"Tell him to suck my three-inch flacid penis."
"It's very important, sir."
"I'll be right over. Fuck."

"Mr. President, we have a possible lead in the Mohammad bin Sheetin case." said Tom Ridge. "Why couldn't your parents have been killed in a genocide that faded into obscurity before you were born?" Asked President Stevens.
"Sir, we need to put our differences behind us. This is huge, like the guy's cock in the gay porno I rented last night. Sir, we've caught the cousin-in-law of Mohammad bin Sheetin's secretary."
"Wow, that is huge. Thank you, Mr. Ridge." Stevens said. This was a big step in the case. For he knew that now they'd be able to ask the hard-hitting questions. Questions like: "What was Mohammad bin Sheetin's favorite Beatles song?"

The Superhero Movie! Part 2

2005-06-23T21:16:00.000-04:00

Thankfully, Gary could get all of the things he wanted AND kick Mark McGwire's ass; seeing as it was a WalMart supercenter. Right when Gary gets there, Mark is already wreaking havoc. He was on the roof, forcing customers to buy Upper Deck baseball cards at a ridiculously high price. Using his super speed, Gary gets into the store unnoticed.

First thing on the shopping list was a boombox. "That would be with all the electric stuff and the videos and CD's and stuff." Gary thought. He found a Sony that was even on Rollback! He then had to find a Lynyrd Skynyrd CD with "Freebird" on it. Thankfully this was WalMart, so they had 18 billion copies of "Pronounced Leh-Nerd Skin-Nerd." That too, was on Rollback, as was the six pack of Bud that he bought. Ok, an enlargement pump. That was right between the feminine hygiene products and children's department. "Cocksucker! It ain't on Rollback 'till next Tuesday. Oh, well." Gary said aloud in front of a woman walking by. She stopped and told Gary that she was offended by his language. He told her to leave immediately or else he would rape her children.

Gary stood in line for a half hour. This was WalMart, so only five of the 74 checkout registers were open. Because Gary had his WalMart keychain discount card, he saved a whopping 27 cents on the items he bought. "Time to get McGwire," Gary said as he was leaving the store.

After leaving the building, Gary proceeds to drink the whole six-pack of beer. He then confronts McGwire, who is selling fake rookie cards of Major League all-stars; similar to the cards sold on the home shopping network for seven times what they're actually worth. Mark sees him, and immediately comes out firing. His surprise attack was Sammy Sosa. Gary can't bear seeing Sosa smack his hand against his chest and blow kisses while saying "Come to the Dominican Republic." Gary then uses his first attack. He pulls out his boom box and starts playing "Sweet Home Alabama." Because this song sucks so much, it not only kills Sosa but it effects Mark McGwire, too. Mark then hits a baseball at Gary. This time, he took his steroids, so it wounds Gary. Gary, hurt badly, has to do something. What will he do? Gary, with a wry smile on his face, looks at McGwire and says "I'm gonna fuck you in your ass like your my mom." (Remembering his sexual experiences with his mom makes Gary begin to cry. Mark McGwire consoles him by giving him a hug and saying "It's ok, it's ok." Alright, back to the action.) Gary switches the track on the boom box and begins playing..... "Freebird!" Right when Mark hears the song, he knows that he's been defeated. Halfway throught the twelve minute guitar solo, Mark can't take anymore and explodes, transforming into a million candy bars. The candy bars are a delicious mix of chocolate, caramel, and Vagisil. But there was no time to celebrate, Gary had to save Waxen Meicoochen before the evil monkeys found her and ate her brain. (Oh shit! Did I forget to tell you about the monkeys? Fuck, too late now.) Gary beats the shit out of the janitor with a rainbow colored umbrella he stole and he steals the janitors keys. He gets to the ladies restroom, hoping to guess the key right. Thankfully, he guesses right on the first key, just in time to grab her before the monkeys lunged at her skull. He races to the Confederatemobile and sets the car at it's highest speed: "Sweet Home Alabama piano solo speed." They get to the concert just in the nick of time. Gary and Waxen got to hear great songs like.... like... ok, so Lynyrd Skynyrd doesn't have any good songs. Unfortunately, during the last song, Waxen gets up on stage and bites into an electrical chord from an amplifier; killing her and the rest of the Skynyrd band members who weren't killed in the plane crash. The camera goes in for a close up on Gary, who says "Well, at least she wasn't REALLY my cousin."

THE END!

The Superhero Movie! Part 1

2005-06-22T17:53:00.000-04:00

As many of you know, I saw Batman Begins on Sunday. I loved the movie. I loved it so much that I was inspired to write my own superhero movie. Well, here goes nothing. (God, this is gonna be bad.)

Gary Miller is an ordinary southern man. He enjoys listening to his Skynyrd CD's, watching football, and receiving yellow discipline from his mom and two sisters. However, his life is about to take a drastic change during these yellow discipline sessions.

It's May 29th, 2008. That morning, Mark McGwire went insane and put, what he thought, was a radioactive toxin into the Alabama water supply. However, his son switched the label on the radioactive toxin with the label on his steroids. It's 9:20 in the morning and Mama Miller is waking up after a long night with her son. She has a little dry throat this morning and decides to grab a glass of (steroid enhanced) water. A few hours later, she decides that it's time to give Gary a little yellow discipline. Unbenounced to him, mama drank a container of rocket fuel; somehow mistaking it for Ron Van Zant's semen. Now her urine is really juiced up. She lets out a big piss right into her son's mouth and he instantly goes from an incestuous redneck to having superhuman abilities. Abilities such as supernatural strength, flight, immunity from all STD's except herpes, and the ability to replay the Tara Reid date rape scene from "Body Shots" in his dreams. (He has no interest in the last power, seing as Tara Reid is in no way related to him.) His mother, on the other hand, dies a day later. She was suffering from malaria and a bad case of an ingrown toenail. Her body couldn't take the steroids and rocket fuel. Angered by his mother's death, Gary must now hunt down Mark McGwire.

Enter Waxen Meicoochen, a German prostitute from New Zealand currently suffering from Syphilis. She, unlike other hookers, pays guys to fuck her because her brain is so fried from the syphilis that she now has the IQ of a mosquito. She finds out about Gary after the news reports that he saved two children from a burning whorehouse. She immediately falls in love with him (which is odd, seeing as she only has the brain capacity to drool and shit her pants) as he is attracted to her because she reminds him of a distant cousin. With that thought in mind, he makes sweet love to her that night and she only wets the bed twice. Needing to find Mark McGwire, he leaves her before she wakes up. (Which isn't hard, seeing that she is so weak from the Syphilis that she is only awake for 15 hours out of the week.)

So, Gary gets into his Confederatemobile, which gives him directions to McGwire's house. The directions are provided by OnStar. When he arrives at Mark McGwire's house, he comes into find an unpleasant surprise: Mark has taken Waxen captive. Mark shows that he isn't afraid to kill her by killing Barry Bonds and stealing his steroids (Bonds' steroids, that is.) right in front of him. Mark then hits a baseball with a picture of Gary's younger sister stapled to it. Because Mark hasn't had steroids in over two weeks, the ball only travels 65 feet. But because Gary has to jerk off to the picture, McGwire has enough time to steal a car and lock Waxen up in the ladie's restroom at the WalMart SuperCenter. Gary must save her. But wait, the Lynyrd Skynyrd concert is tonight. That itself presents another problem: The steroids have started to kick in. If Gary wears his tight, rebel pants to the concert, he'll look like a total douche because of the "shrinkage." "What'll I do?" thought Gary. "All I know is I gotta find a boom box, a CD with the song 'Freebird' on it, a six-pack of Bud, and an enlargement pump. Fast"

TO BE CONTINUED!

Typical Weekend of a Douche

2005-06-20T18:21:00.000-04:00

I've always been bored on weekends. Everyone says that weekends are days off and should be party days. After twelve hours of straight partying, I think I'm all partied out. Come mid-Saturday to early Sunday, I find myself bored with nothing to do. The weather sucks in Florida. The weather can do one of two things here. It can: A)Rain every day during summer vacation, but we won't be hit by a hurricane, or B)Not rain for the first two weeks of summer vacation, but the rest of the vacation is ruined by hurricanes. This brings one question to mind:"Why the fuck is Florida called 'The Sunshine State' if it rains every fucking day?" Everyone calls Florida "paradise," when it's really not. The only time when it doesn't rain is during the winter, and even then you still can't go outside because it's 20 fucking degrees outside. Unless I wear a parka and thermal underwear when I'm on the golf course (Making it extremely hard to swing), I can pretty much expect to get frostbite on my balls.

Well, what do I do when it's not rainy? I had a pie chart made up, and it says that approx. 92 percent is spent watching porn, 2 percent sleeping, 3 percent eating, 2 percent on the Cringe Humor forum, and one percent doing other shit. What other shit? Shit like going to the movies. I went to see Batman Begins last night (which kicked major ass. Fuck your opinions, it's the best Batman movie ever), and I sat two rows in front of these two hot chicks. On a scale of 1 to 10, one was a 7 and the other was an 8. To explain my scale, I will go down each point on the scale. 10)Nobody qualifies as a ten. Maybe the hottest angel in heaven. 9)Really hot models and actresses. Only two regular people qualify as a 9. 8)Fucking hawt. I'd do an 8 any day of the week. 7)Still pretty damn hot, but has some minor flaws. 6)Still fuckable. 5)Give me a beer or two and I might do a 5. 4)Give me 5 beers and I'll think about it. 3)5 beers, two joints, and 15 thousand dollars and I MIGHT consider it. 2)I'll only fuck a 2 if I'm unconscious. 1)Any corpse that has been dead for 20 years or more.

Anyway, I sit two rows ahead of these chicks. They start throwing popcorn at me. I decide to play along, and throw some of my popcorn at them. They laugh, and start whispering amongst themselves. One of them starts rubbing my back. The other one gets up and comes to my row, sitting right next to me to my left. The other girl follows her, sitting next to me to my right. At that moment, an alarm is going off in my head saying "Threesome! Threesome! Threesome!" I got a little moist at that moment. The girl to my right gives me a light kiss on the cheek, proceeds to give me a light peck on my lips, and then she goes in for the kill. She's ON MY FUCKING LAP making out with me. She felt me shiver a little (I was EXTREMELY nervous) and asked "Are you nervous?" And because I'm a lying bastard, I used my usual excuse; which was "Naw, I just get cold in movie theatres." The chick to my left then says "I can fix that" and she starts making out with me. That little alarm, it's now on code red. It's now saying: "TTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEESSSSSSSOOOOOOOMMMMMMMEEE! THHHHRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSOOOOOMMMMEEEEE MOTHERFUCKER! WAKE UP AND SMELL THE PUSSY, DOUCHE NUT!" They're both all over me, two chicks giving me "tongue action" as I call it. So after about ten minutes solid of making out, (I missed the first third of the Batman movie because of these girls. Not that I'm complaining, I still got a good enough idea. I mean, I saw SOME of the beginning) they get up, and like any normal guy, and I think they're going to the bathroom. I sat in my seat for five minutes, expecting them to come back. Of course, they left; and I didn't have the opportunity to get their phone numbers. It sucks, every time I come so close to getting laid, something shitty happens. They move, they get out of the Epcot restaurant before I do, they leave the theatre because they don't like the movie, their HIV test comes up positive, it's always some shit like that. This is the second time in two weeks that I've come dangerously close to getting laid and some bullshit thing happens. They move, get out of the Epcot restaurant before I do, their HIV test turns out positive. You know, just stupid, little bullshit that doesn't mean shit except for the fact that I'm not getting laid that night. Well, that is, everything except for the positive HIV test.

Bullshit or No Shit? Vol. 2:Random Stuff

2005-06-18T19:25:00.000-04:00

I figured it was time for another episode of "Bullshit or No Shit?" My trademark satrical post.

I finally watched a gay porn today. I figured that I might as well, because I've watched everything except that. It was really uneventful and not worth going into. However, brought back bad memories of prison. I thought I would be a badass if I went to prison, so I did a test to see if I could "handle the heat." The test consisted of me shoving a broomstick handle up my ass. It wasn't too bad, so I decided to shoplift some Pixy Stix and a "Girls Rule" keychain. Sure enough, the cops caught me and I ended up in a cell with my new friends. My "daddy" was a Puerto Rican named Raul who had been convicted of four counts of murder. He nutted me until I developed scabs on (his words) my beautiful, tight, pink, and tender ass. Nothing lowers your self esteem than realizing that you've been bought by Raul for three Marlboro cigarettes, a snickers bar, and two extra sporks. So, "Bullshit or No Shit?" point one is: Is prison great? The answer to that would be five great big piles of bullshit.

Michael Jackson was found not guilty. Which brings me to this question:Did he really not do it or is the jury just full of preteens with Down's Syndrome? I think it's the second one. They got him off the hook by telling the jury that he didn't molest the kids, he just shared a bed with them. And of course that makes it right. I wonder if I can convince my neighbor to let me have a sleep over with their five year old son? Fat fucking chance. So, "BS or No S?" point number two is:"Is Michael Jackson really not guilty?" The answer to that would be twelve humongo piles of great big bullshit.

Tom Cruise proposed to Katie Holmes at the Eiffel Tower, in France (Duh). How long have they been dating? Twenty minutes? They announced their relationship on Oprah less than a month ago and now they're getting married? But Zach, you don't understand. They're in love. Oh, yeah, and I have a huge cock and eat people. I think if Katie believes he really loves her, she's one dumb cunt. I think Tom is nailing her for the same reason I went to prison: He's desperate. (Wait, I wasn't supposed to say that. Fuck!) Maybe I'm just jealous. I hate cute couples. I hope they die in a strange accident at a Cricket game. So "Bullshizzy or No Shizzy?" (I just found out that I lost my patent on the phrase "Bullshit or No Shit?") point number three:"Are Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes really 'In love?' The answer to that would be 19 billion piles of bullshizzy.

As many of you know, I was on vacation. Vacations for my family are always horrible. You may say "Well, Zach. I haven't been on vacation in six years. At least be greatful that you're having a vacation." Go fuck yourself. I hate theme parks. They're full of old people and little kids; my two FAVORITE types of people in the world (Is there a sarcasm font?). I know that my vacation probably wasn't that bad and I'm probably whining too much, but that's the way I am. Get used to it, prick. I will run down what happened each day.

Sunday was travel day. I got to sit in a car for hours. After we got out of the car, my ass hurt almost as much as it did when Raul was giving me a piece of his sweet, Puerto Rican murderer love. We got a hotel at fucking Days Inn, which means my whack-off life was gone for a week. If I were to do any jerking off, it would have to be in the shower.

Monday we went to Sea World. I was hoping to meet some hot chicks there, but there were none. Summer fucking vacation and there were no hot chicks there. The whole park was full of old people and Asians. The only hot chicks there had already had at least two children. They didn't look much older than nineteen, but they still had at least two children. Guess they start young nowadays. The only good part of the trip was that I got to ride "Journey to Atlantis" in the front row, motherfucker. Got my pants so soaked that I looked like a retard with an overactive bladder. I'm so lucky that my cell phone wasn't fried.

Tuesday was a rest day. Because of my dad's situation, we had to take two rest days during the trip, which sucked. I know I shouldn't be judging, but I'm a pompous, self-centered asshole.

Wednesday we went to Epcot, the worst park in Orlando. It's boring as hell and all you do is learn about other cultures. I did enough of that shit in my history class. Plus, I'm not open minded about others cultures. I was excited about one thing: a ride called "Test Track." I thought it was going to be really cool, but I was let down. I had dinner at Epcot's Chinese restaurant and had some very spicy pork. However, I had my eyes on a different spicy meal: This hot chick at the table next to me that was checking me out. She was about a 9 out of 10 on the hot scale. You could bet that I'd let her suck my nine... I mean.... three. She talked to me a little bit when she found the opportunity, giving me the "sexy look" when she did. As you can imagine, I got more than a little hard when she did. Unfortunately, I didn't get her number. I circled the park twice trying to find her, but there was no luck for me. I went back to the hotel that night and cranked one out in the shower. Don't worry, I jerked fast and furiously so I wouldn't take too long and steam up the bathroom too much. I'm sorry that I put an image in your head of me jerking off, but it was necessary. Nothing sucks more than jerking off while realizing that at that exact fucking moment, I could have been getting laid.

Thursday was a rest day. 'Nuff said.

Friday we went to the Magic fucking Kingdom (minus the "fucking"). Trust me, it's not that magical unless you're on acid. I entered the park and the first thing I did was get in line to go on "The Haunted Mansion," because that's why you go to Disney World. Right when I got to the front of the line, the piece of shit ride broke down. It was totally fucking gay. It took four hours to get the ride working again. But I did get on it, so I really shouldn't be complaining. When I got on the ride. I thought that the way the seats were set up, it would be a really good place to get a blow job. Unfortunately, I didn't have a girl there with me (that WASN'T a relative) so that idea was shot. I also got to ride on Splash Mountain. I didn't get my picture of me coming down the drop because I gave the camera the superfinger (aka SU-FI. Visit DANECOOK.COM for more information on the superfinger.) When the day was finished, I went back to the hotel room and jerked off in the shower again.

Saturday we came back home. Of course my family had to ruin a vacation that wasn't too bad by arguing all the way home. My ass hurt again after we were done traveling.

So, "Bullshiznit or No Shiznit?" (Once again, I still can't get back the patent.) point number four: "Do vacations suck?" That answer, for once, is "No Shiznit." I gotta go have dinner now, which consists of milk duds and a french vanilla cappucino. Probably gonna watch more porn after I'm done.

New Blog

2005-06-15T17:21:00.000-04:00

I sick of having to make posts to slam people who want to insult me, so I've decided to make a new blog just for this very purpose. If you want to insult me, please visit frankendickfightclub.blogspot.com and post a comment with an insult. Only insult me if you're ready for me to attack back. Anonymous posters please leave a name, screenname, nickname, mothers maiden name, etc. If you post a comment with an insult on the "Blow Me" blog, you will be ignored and laughed at for being a douche or for having Down's Syndrome.

To the Anonymous Poster with love.....

2005-06-14T21:58:00.000-04:00

Dear Anonymous Prick Who Needs a Life,

If I'm so unfunny, why do you waste your time here? You say that I'm unfunny but in the same paragraph your only insult is using the word "Dumbass" 52 fucking times. Spare me sir, your insults are more worn out than Kelly Ripa's birth canal. Every minute you're alive, an Arab resolves himself to become a suicide bomber. Your very existence is like the Steven Speilberg film "AI." You keep wishing it would end, but it somehow carries on. You should stop sucking with your insults and try sucking something useful, something like Magic Johnson's dick. Don't forget to swallow.

Friends 'till the end,

Zach

Leaving For Vacation

2005-06-04T22:28:00.000-04:00

I will be on vacation this coming week. This means that I will be unable to post until next Sunday. If I have inconvenienced you in any way, please buy a huge vibrator and go "pleasure" yourself. Hope you rip some internal organs while you're at it.

Summertime, Motherfucker!

2005-06-03T15:45:00.000-04:00

It's finally summer, and I'm already sick of it. The weather fucking blows. I've been out of school for a week now and it's done nothing but rain. I am here at my dad's house in Boynton and I have yet to see somebody that I actually know. I haven't been able to play any goddamn golf because of the weather. It's only been one week and I'm already contemplating suicide. This is even worse than Oklahoma, and Oklahoma was fucking hell. The whole time I was there I was asking God why I wasn't a victim of the Oklahoma City bombings.

But there is good news: now that it's summer, hopefully I'll be able to write more often. This blog and the good comments that people post on here is the only thing that keeps me alive. Ok, well maybe I'm overexaggerating, but please continue to post only GOOD comments. If you post a bad comment, I hope you get rammed in the ass by Magic Johnson's cock, you faggots.

I just stopped playing Rogue Spear to write this. It's a Tom Clancy game, and it's cool as hell. Not only is it violent, but you're only killing Arabs and Russians. Nothing is cooler than a game filled with violence AND stereotypes. I usually play on the easiest difficulty level with cheat codes, because I'm a fucking pussy. But speaking of violence, I've figured out how to get any girl to like you: kidnap her and threaten to rip out her internal organs one by one if she doesn't give you a blowjob. Trust me, it works every time.

In case you don't know by now (fucking idiots), today has been a horrible day. This morning, I found out that I had to help out my stepmom with a nursing home gig. My stepmom is a musician and she usually does her work on weekends. On weekdays, she does nursing home shows. I was getting ready to jerk off when I found I had to help out. The one group of people I hate with a passion are the old people. Most of them are pricks. Not only am I going to see old people, I'm going to see crazy fucks with Alzheimer's. Fucking great. By now, my hard-on is completely shot. I can only think of old people drooling when I see the word "blowjob." So, it turns out we aren't doing a show for Alzheimers patients, we're doing a show for blind fuckers. My stepmom told me that they just want to dance so she won't have to sing too much. Great. I'll be in the same room that blind people are dancing in. That's a disaster just waiting to happen. So not only am I fearing for my life, I've lost a whole lot of money. When we do the Alzheimer's shows, I can usually make fifty bucks off of these Alzheimer's patients by pretending to be their grandson. So now I'm really pissed off.

Anyway, we get to the place, which was called Mae Volen (Sounds like a Chinese bitch and a German screwing. Don't know why, that's just what the name reminds me of.), and we find out that the assholes fucked up on the calendar, so my stepmom wasn't even supposed to do a show. The person who was REALLY doing the show was some fat fuck with the last name of Stevens. Great, so I woke my ass up, hauled equipment, and drove all the way to a goddamn senior center (god I hate those words! UGH!) just so I could turn around and put all of this shit back in the van. Those dumb motherfuckers.

My day actually got better. We went to Burger King, because the food is just so yummy and good for your heart, and I got a double cheeseburger value meal, which came with a large order of fries. Burger King is holding a special contest because of the new Star Wars movie where you can win a million dollars. They are doing this because we all know that winning a million dollars has EVERYTHING to do with the Star Wars series. So I scratch off the stupid thing, and guess what? I didn't win a million dollars, but I did save a bunch of money on... just kidding! I won a free cheeseburger. Woohoo! I guess I can win a bunch of free cheeseburgers and then when I win the million, I'll be able to put it to good use to cover my hospital bills when I have a heart attack because of the burgers.

Don't Mind My Ranting...

2005-05-14T21:27:00.000-04:00

No, I'm not dead. I'm finally back from the torture chamber. Actually, life's been good to me so far (My Mazirati does 185. I lost my license, now I don't drive.) You know that chick in my Biology class? The hottest girl in the school? She goes to my church now. She's been encouraging me, more like begging me, to try out for the church band. I could play guitar and I would try out if the songs were about buing hookers and murdering them after I've finished with them. But on second thought, she desires popularity. I'm the only person she knows or talks to at the church, so she's desperate to meet people. This means that I could get some seriously hot pussy. Think of it. How popular will she be when people find out she's blowing the lead guitarist of the youth group band?

However, there's a problem. One of my friends...well.. now a former friend, is trying to set her up with her ex-boyfriend. He really misses her. That's why he knocked up her best friend. Nothing says "I love you" more than getting your girlfriend's best friend pregnant. However, the dumb bitch still likes him. I have no idea how many drugs she had to consume to feel this way about him, but it's her life, so she can screw it up however she wants to. You know how I know she still likes him? Because she writes "(her name here) loves _ _ _ _ _ _" on every flat surface she can find. Those six blank spaces come out to spell "Steven." What's her ex-boyfriend's name? Steven. That's right, you fucking guessed it. When I meet this "Steven," I'm gonna dig up Freddy Mercury's dead body and ass rape him with it so he can get AIDS.

But on a brighter note, one of my enemies (Hugo) is gone forever. Not dead, (unfortunately) he's graduated. That fucking Ukranian kickboxer. Gone. That makes this the best day of my life. That zit-covered faggot. He has zits all over his face. I heard that (in the puberty age) are caused by not releasing testosterone. I wonder if he has to beg his hand to jerk him off, because he sure as hell isn't releasing enough testosterone.

My house stinks. It's powder blue on the outside. I have no idea why my parents bought this house. They thought it was beautiful. I wanted to yank them on the ear and yell "Are you fucking blind?" It seriously looks like shit. Shittier than shit. If shit had eyes and it saw this house, it would run for its life.

Well, my grandpa is going to move in. He's, to put it in a polite way, insane. He keeps telling me about serving in World War II and how he dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, which is obviously bullshit. He was a supply sergeant. The closest he came to being killed was when he dropped a 9mm. bullet on his foot. Thinking about my grandpa has reminded me about the most useless holiday in America: Grandparents Day. Do you know why it's a useless holday? Because my own grandparents don't even know when the hell Grandparents Day is.

I had to run the mile in my Phys Ed. class. I managed to run it in 12 and a half minutes. I finished it in less than 15, so I passed. I'm so proud of myself! I can do three chin-ups and I run the mile slower than the Pope's dead corpse. I am one fine conditioned athlete.

Well, I'm on Maxim Online right now, trying to find a picture worth jerking off to in the "Hometown Hotties" section. After looking at these pictures, Maxim should stick to photographing models and hot actresses, since most of these so called "Hometown Hotties" have the sex appeal that the lovechild of Jay Leno and Terri Schiavo would have. Speaking of Terri Shiavo, I would really love to dig up her body and fuck her in the hole that's in her neck.

Going back to the first paragraph, I didn't try out for the church band. I don't type these out off the top of my head. I usually spend a week gathering ideas and writing them on paper before I type these out. This shows you how fucking dumb and lazy I am. After I finish writing my future blog, I type it out word for word, speling and grumaticul errs inkludid. This shos how weller I be after I had gotten hukt on fonickxs. I tolk lots gooder now.

I really wanted to try out for the band. I was going to play Bad Company's "Feel Like Makin' Love" at the audition. I can picture it now: me on stage, blowing kisses at the girl in my Biology class while I dry hump my guitar. I always wanted to be a rock star. In third grade, I grew long hair like my favorite rock stars. Hindsight indicates that this was a horrible idea, because now I look at my old pictures and think "Who's the gay kid with the mullet?" I despise mullets because I hate rednecks. The only people with mullets are rednecks and Professional Bowlers. I consider bowling a sport for gays who want to get drunk with their straight friends so they can turn them gay. You do nothing but drink beer and roll a ball, which has three little holes in it. I'm sure you can figure out what the three little holes are used for.

Well, this update hasn't been that bad. Sure, it may not have been worth waiting two months for, but it's ok. Think of it as a bad night at a singles bar where you ended up taking home the fat chick. Sure, you'd love to be fucking the hot piece of pussy sitting next to her, but it's better than nothing..... I guess.

I Know That Life's Not Fair, But......

2005-03-19T22:05:00.000-05:00

I've never figured out why St. Patrick's Day is always the unluckiest day of the year for me. Maybe it's because the closest thing I've found to a four-leaf clover is the dollar weed on my lawn. "Hey, mommy! I found a four-leaf clover!" "No, you didn't! Now just shut up and get me the goddamn Weed-B-Gone."

So I had a monologue that I had to get for my drama class. Easy, right? Wrong. I had to get it and memorize it by the next day, fight off being tired from all the hospital visits and stress that kept me up until 2 o'clock every morning, and walk three miles in the fucking rain. I got the monologue and thankfully, I didn't get pneumonia. I guess I should count my blessings.

Friday was different. I was talking to a few hot chicks and telling some of my stand-up material. This chick in my biology class, who happened to be the hottest chick at my school, kept saying "Oh my god! You're sooooo funny! I'd like, pay you to do this at a party or something." Me, I kept staring at her chest thinking "If only you knew what I'd pay YOU to do." I really want to nail her. And her friends, too. I've always loved it that hot girls hang out in groups nowadays. You never see a chick that's a nine on the hot scale talking to a 350 pound moose. It might just be me, but when I see a bunch of hot chicks in a group; I get fantasies of a sixsome.

Well, now it's time for some serious stuff (I advise you to have a box of tissues nearby). Life's been pretty tough lately. My dad has been diagnosed with advanced colon cancer and it's had me worried as shit. My dad has always been like a best friend to me. He's never trying to run my life or get on my case all the time like most parents. I can always tell him dirty jokes and I appreciate that so much. It's a real pain in the ass being around my mom when she's on one of her "God Streaks." She'll do nothing but talk about some stupid scripture in the book Nebezecheciah or something like that. My dad would help take my mind off of that. It's been a real reality check.

He gave me a speech on the subject earlier this week. He told me that I was the best kid he could ever ask for (yes, he likes me over my sister. Usually, parents try not to pick their favorite kid, but my dad is a different person.) He was in tears and he said that he was just wishing to live five more years. He also told me that whatever I do, I should think of whether or not it would make him proud. I'll let you know that is why I won't be posting as often. Not that the blog would make him upset, but I want to work more on my golf game so that I can qualify for the PGA tour before he's gone. I feel that's the only way I can thank him for all he's done for me. His speech literally had me in tears. I don't cry very easily. That was the first time I had cried in more that four years, dating back to my sixth grade year. That was because of me being such a wuss. Back then it was because of fear and physical pain. I even remember what made me cry. It was my first detention and I lied to my stepfather about it. When he found out about it, he decided to grab me by hair and play a round of pinball with my head. He slammed me into walls, tables, chairs, even the fucking refrigerator. Then he said that if I ever lied again, he'd cut off my tongue with scissors. That's a great thought to put into an eleven year old's brain.

What's had me the most pissed off is my goddamn stepmom. She's obsessed with her fucking job and house. She yells at dad and tells him to get off his ass (Mind you that this is only ONE day since he left the hospital) and clean up. She's barking orders at us while she sits on her ass eating Grape Nuts and reading the comics in the newspaper. Yet she has the nerve to whine about how hard she works. Fucking bullshit. On top of that, she's done nothing about wine about some stupid song. "Should I play it in E flat or C?" I don't know, how about you flip a fucking coin? There are bigger things to worry about, bitch. I'm about to give myself a heart attack worring if my dad, YOUR FUCKING HUSBAND, is going to live long enough to see me graduate. And all you can do is whine about how difficult it is to learn some song that you're going to play for a Jewish couple who you don't even know. It makes me sick to my stomach.

Well, this is how my life is going. I'll to try to post when I can, but I've got bigger things on my mind. However, for as much as I hate it, this is good in a way. It's put a whole new perspective on my life. I now try to be the best at whatever I do. If I compete in a competition, I won't settle for second place. Settling for second place is like settling for being second best. That's how I see it, anyway. Well, I'll leave you with a serious note instead of some gay punchline: Live every moment as if it is the last, because you never know when it will be "the last."

I Can Rap!

2005-03-13T22:07:00.000-05:00

Hellow fellow people out there in blogdom (that was either a pitiful attempt at being mildly amusing or a great attempt at being gay. I haven't decided which one it is yet), figured it was time for me to update. Right now I'm listening to some Amy Grant and looking for nude photos of Queen Elizabeth. Obviously, when it comes to seeing Queen Elizabeth nude, one photo is just a little bit too much. But anywho, I be writing a rap sizzong, biiiatchizzz (That sentence is just screaming "White boy! White boy!"). It's called "Yo Ass be Like a Jungle." I haven't decided on a rapper name yet. I will either steal Eminem's idea and name myself "Skyttlz" (Skittles) or 50 Cent('s. Sorry, can't put an "s" in his name. He doesn't like the plural form of "cent." Proper English be for them white people, right 50 Cent?) idea and call myself "Half a Dollar." Well, enjoy my artistic (more like autistic) songwriting, peeps.

Yo Ass Be Like A Jungle

Yo ass be like a jungle

And I'm Yo monkey

And I wanna get funky-crunky

I be goin into yo pussy

Swingin through yo trees

Bitch be gettin hot cause I bring her to her knees

I be givin her da beatdown if she give me a disease

Flyin through da air like my little butterfly

Keep showin yoself off like dat I poke ya in da eye

You know da Amazon Jungle be in my Escallade

Cause dat's where da hot bitches be gettin laid

Fuckin da hottest bitch dat I eva seen

Her breath is really stank cause her teeth be turnin green

Cause it's a jungle

Gettin low in da jungle

Pimpin hoes in da jungle

Yeah

Motel 6 be like my jungle

Where we can smoke some crack

Ya know dat once you go Zach

Ya never go back

Don't be goin through my biz

Or I'll cover ya wit jizz

So come into my jungle

And give me a blow job

I be gettin really hot if her name wasn't Bob

I know she be a guy

But I guess I'll let it fly

And I know dat it's real wrong

To touch him on his dong

But I just can't help it

Cause it's a jungle

Shout out "Como Arigato"

To my dawg Mr. Roboto

North America, Bitch

Copywright 2005

"Yo Ass Be Like A Jungle"

Skyttlz feat. Half a Dollar feat. Snoop Dog feat. Lil John feat. Eminem feat. Ja Rule feat. Bubba Sparxx feat. Akon feat. Ludacris with a special guest appearance by Bob Saget (WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?)

Fuck Josh

2005-03-11T23:09:00.000-05:00

Okay, I fucked up on a blog. I tried to type the stupid thing at the library and it wouldn't let me type anything. The post was entitled "No Porn For Me" which was an appropriate title since I was typing it up in a library and was unable to watch any porn. I was thinking of downloading some porn (if there wasn't a fucking filter on the computer), but I figured I wouldn't put the nice people at the library (should I use italics for sarcasm?) through the misery of smelling my cock. Anyways, I did the smart thing and exited out of the current post thinking it wouldn't post. But no, Blogger had their own fucking agenda. It posted the shit up anyways. So it stays on there and this dumb fuck Josh posted a comment (had to be a dumb fucking redneck) without scrolling down to read any fucking previous posts. So his dumb ass posts a comment on a post with NO FUCKING WORDS on it! He said "This is the most fucking pothetic (Yes, he fucking spelled "pathetic" wrong. Dumb redneck prick) blog I have read in my life, you fucking douchebag" (Suprised that he managed to spell that right. I swear, this dumb nutmunch must have a fucking IQ of 16. I bet if I gave him an orange he'd probably try to drive it.) So, Josh. If you come back here and don't have the sense to find a blog that didn't fuck up, don't bother posting a comment. I hope you get a rare terminal disease that causes you to shit out chunks of your intestines. GOD I fucking HATE rednecks. That's goddamn right! I really don't give a shit about what you think. Guess that if you want revenge you'll have to track me down and force me to fuck my sister, asshole.

This Week Is Hell

2005-03-05T19:39:00.000-05:00

I woke up and watched a porno today, (what else is new?) doing what I call a "wake-and-spank." The porno was called "Barney: Behind the Scenes." It's wrong to watch child pornography, but that doesn't stop me. It was Barney ass-raping little kids. He still had his suit on for Christ sake. I always knew that he was one fucked up dinosaur. It proved that when Barney tells the kids "I love you," he's really just trying to get in their pants.

Right now I'm listening to music by The Shins and Maroon 5, great stuff. Check it out if you get the chance. This other guy named Jack Johnson makes some pretty good stuff too. I only listen to this stuff when I'm by myself. I prefer to listen to Marilyn Manson the rest of the time, especially when I'm around my right-wing Christian mom. I swear, she's going to be a Christian extremist. She'll strap a bomb to herself, walk into a Mosque, and blow herself up. I am an atheist, my motto is "Jesus is dead, get over it you pussies."

I've now written enough songs/comedy material to do about 45 minutes, although I'd probably do my best 30 minutes at a comedy club. Well, that is if I ever get booked for a gig. Shit, I'm only 17, I've got fucking time. Wow, I gave away my age. I write this shit and I'm not even 21. So what? Everybody who reads this is over twelve, it won't hurt anyone. If you do judge me for my age and don't think that this is funny solely because of my age, go fuck yourself.

Anyway, this week has been hell. The girl from the "When you're a fool in love" blog has a boyfriend, and that's just the start of it. So I guess that means no pussy for me. Wait, or does it. I've got my eyes set on another girl, but she's kind of short. She's somewhere in the three-foot height range. Okay, maybe two feet tall. But it's not the size that matters, it's how you use it. I'll be saying that to her a whole lot when she sees my dick.

Also, my dad is in the hospital. We found out that he's anemic and has some internal bleeding. He has to have a colonostaphy (Fuck! I bet five dollars that I spelled that wrong), and I feel bad for him; seeing as he has to have a tube shoved up his ass. But as I say, better him than me. God, I'm such a fucking prick.

Because of this, I get the opportunity to give up playing in a golf tournament for watching four fucking ten year old girls. If you get the chance to do that, fuck it. Not only are they annoying as hell, they're not fuckable yet either. I can't fuck a girl who hasn't developed tits yet. I also can't fuck my sister, either. I wouldn't be able to hate Jeff Foxworthy if I did. Shit! Just saying that makes me look suspicious. Okay, people, forget that I said anything.

So maybe my life isn't that bad. Maybe I'm just a whiny little cunt. I prefer to say that my life sucks just so people will give me sympathy. I want to be happy all the time, but if I was, you probably wouldn't be able to read my comedic genius. I usually try to refrain from trying to tell people that I'm funny, seeing as the only comic that I know of that does that is Paul F. Tompkins, and I hate that asshole with a passion. It would be different if he was funny and bragged about his jokes, but he's a fucking hack. Seriously, if you watch his Comedy Central Presents special, you hear about five people laughing through the whole thing. Have you ever noticed that the comics who call themselves funny are usually the unfunniest pricks on the face of the earth? Paul F. Tompkins and Larry the Cable Guy are two examples. So I'll just sit aside and let you comment on whether or not you think I'm funny. If I am, I'll reward myself by beating off to some of my most cherished Carmen Electra pictures. If you say that I'm not funny, I guess I'll just cut my balls off; again.

Why The Fuck Am I Watching Friends?

2005-03-04T20:34:00.000-05:00

I found out today that my "Candace" blog made it on the news. I have no idea how they fucking found it, seeing as only two people read this shit, but they did. It was on News Channel 5 here in Florida and it was "The Nightbeat" (That dumb name for the 11 o'clock news proves that NBC truly does stand for "No Brains Consulted) and it was the special story. It was called: "Blogs: Are they getting too dirty for your children?" Well, with me on there giving graphic descriptions of rape and murder, I guess the answer would be yes. With that said, check out my Candace blog. It's the third one that I wrote and I guess it's funny, seeing as news channels only talk shit about stuff that's actually funny. Hey, it's NBC, how the fuck else did Dat Phan win on Last Comic Standing?

Anyway, back to the subject. My clock on the fucking computer screws up all the time (it was a half hour fast today) and it said it was 9 o'clock, which meant that Austin Powers was on TV. However, it was only 8:30 and I tragically stumbled on "Friends." The show sucks, yet the audience still laughs at it. Wait, I forgot. This is also A FUCKING NBC SHOW!!!! Still, I have no idea why people think this crap show is funny. Maybe NBC holds the audience up at gunpoint, forcing them to laugh at every mediocre punchline that never even comes close to funny. I am a fan of Matthew Perry because of the great job he did in "The Whole Nine (and Ten) Yards." He's also a hottie. I can picture myself riding a horse with him (oh, I'd ride his horse if ya know what I mean) and dancing nude in the wildflowers at spring. Ok, back on track. TV SUCKS! How do shows like "Friends" and "Joey" do so well when shows like Tough Crowd get cancelled after only three seasons? It's not fair. Blue Collar TV? That's the sketch comedy version of Friends. Since when is a TV show about a bunch of rednecks pouring gravy on everything considered funny? The only one out of that group with any fucking comedic talent is Ron White. The rest of them rely on the same redneck schtick that is done to death. Everybody knows about Jeff Foxworthy and Larry the Fucking Cracker Guy, but nobody hears about great and honest comics like Jim Norton, Greg Giraldo, Rich Vos, Dave Mordal, Nick DiPaolo, Stephen Lynch, Robert Kelly and Russ Meneve. This society seems to embrace pathetic fucks with no talent, that's why rap and pussy pop/punk rock is so fucking popular. That's why Paris Hilton has a show that's all about her. I hope that her dog runs away again or rapes her and takes her credit card. Our country has a love of the rich. Look at that fucking stupid show "Super Nanny." Spoiled little kids that whine at everything and parents so desperate that they have to hire a fat British bitch to tell them that they've been "very, very naughty." I hate rich fucks. Especially Martha Stewart. Five months house arrest was the worst they could do? I'd give my left nut to have five months house arrest in her house. House arrest? More like "House Party." Well, I gotta go. I'll leave you with a few words of advice: Don't watch "Friends" and stop humping your pillow; it already has enough holes in it.

When You're a Fool In Love....

2005-02-26T22:50:00.000-05:00

I was looking myself up on Google (as you may have guessed I didn't find anything), I realized I gots to update mis blog. I've been busy on myspace lately and writing songs, my latest songs being "Strip Bingo" and a song about internet dating. I realize I'm young and I shouldn't be so busy, but that's the way it is when you don't have a girlfriend. You have to beat off at least six times a day to keep yourself satisfied. Haha, you guessed it. Time for another "Whack-off Zack-Off Porno Review" (Whack-Off Zack-Off Porno Review is a registered trademark of Horny Zach Enterprises and Blow Me Publishing). I was watching a porno today called "Loose Heads." It was of an Iranian terrorist group screwing a girl. Of course, they covered her whole fucking face but I didn't give a shit. I was horny and I needed a good four and a half minutes to relieve the hormone rush. They're all piled on top of each other (From top to bottom: Guy on guy on girl) humping madly, the kind of hump a retarded boy gives a fire hydrant. In the end, they behead the girl and kick her head around, letting us see the cumstains on her head coverings. That 's not the only porno I saw. The other was of an extremely fat couple screwing. I could see the friction between them and I knew that this was a disaster just waiting to happen. Finally, it happened: they started a fire. I was laughing my ass off until I found out that the poor girl in the porno died as a result of that fire. That made me laugh even harder. Oh, before I forget, I'm writing a parody. I'm not the parody type of guy, but this idea was just too funny. It's a parody of "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" (Shut up, shut the fuck up! I know Christmas was two months ago, no need to remind me) and the song is called "I Saw Mommy Blowing Santa Claus." If only I could figure out the rythym and tempo to the song. It sucks being a bad guitar player.

Okay, I'm off on a tangent again. Back to the subject. I think I'm in love. She's really hot and she's one of the funniest people I know. That's a double turn on for me. I know she'll reject me and say that she'd rather fuck her mom, but I've gotta keep the hope alive. She hugged me, so that's a good sign, but then again, my dad hugs me too. And don't worry, I don't think of my dad in "that way." Only rednecks do that shit. I feel like I can fly. My heart races and I'm watching romantic comedies (Fuck! There's definitely something wrong with me). I know that it sounds corny, but I can't help it. The thought of not having to fuck the pillow anymore is enough to get any man excited. But I'm ready for the worst. I'm prepared for failure. I've been stood up enough times that I really don't care if it happens. I'm in to the double digits in rejections (Last time I checked it was 17 rejections in a row) but if William Hung can be considered a serious artist by some people and the Red Sox can win the fucking World Series, I've got a chance.

But this thought of love is making me feel all lovey inside. Last night while I was beating off, I wondered if at that same time she was in her bed fingering her beaver. After thinking that thought, I realized that we were meant to be. I know that's the exact thought I've had the last seventeen times, but I feel that this time is different. Okay, I have to stop with the serious love stuff. Let me get back to my evil ways. Fuck shit cunt fuck Jeff Foxworthy and those goddamn Blue Collar motherfuckers fuck damn fuck god fucking dammit. Sorry, just had to get myself pumped up (mentallty, not physically assholes).

Well, right now I'm watching Iron Chef and I'm paying close attention to one of the judges. She's a Japanese (duh) actress with a name that's something like Yuki Tuki Muki Who Gives a Fuki. Seeing her made me prematurely ejaculate on the sweet potatoes. The only reason I had out sweet potatoes was because I was trying to follow along with the chefs; but that never fucking works. Now, I have a new assignment: Research this girl.

I'm looking for an underground porn site that features underaged Japanese women. I found one and I am currently beating off to Takeshi; a 13 and a half year old Japanese hermaphrodite with huge tits and an even bigger cock. It's really hard to maintain an erection while fighting off thoughts of incest and killing Jeff Foxworthy. Actually, I'm only trying to fight off thoughts of incest. Killing Jeff Foxworthy would be a good thing while incest is only a good thing in Alabama. However, the only place where killing Jeff Foxworthy is considered a bad thing is in Alabama. Hmmm, isn't that a coincidence? I think I've figured out why so much of Jeff Foxworthy's material is about his daughters.

Well, I'm still in love. I was sidetracked trying to find out the connection between Alabama, incest and Jeff Foxworthy. If this girl doesn't like me, her sister is pretty hot too. If the first girl rejects me, and then I go after her sister, I might, just might, go 0-for-18 (Man that was a whole shitload of misused commas). Hmm, her sister. I wondering if she's fingering herself right now....

Hello Again

2005-02-25T18:42:00.000-05:00

I have a new blog on myspace. Please go to profiles.myspace.com/users/16887179. Sorry I haven't posted lately. I feel stupid posting when I have nothing smart to say (well, then again, I usually don't say anything smart anyways. Not like my blog is going to find a fucking cure for AIDS). I haven't given up hope of being laid yet. I think that I should, but I just can't. Gotta keep on trying. So anyways, keep checking up and go to my new profile on myspace. I'll post again when I actually have a funny idea, not a poor excuse for a Dat Phan joke.

Internet Dating

2005-01-17T01:57:00.000-05:00

Today started out odd. I had a funny feeling in my stomach, so I went to go take a dump. Just as I suspected, I had diahrreah. However, this wasn't just any type of diahrreah. When I wiped my ass, I found blood all over the fucking piece of toilet paper. That usually isn't a good sign, now is it? Didn't fucking think so. I realize that I went a little overboard on the graphic detail of my morning shit, and I'm sorry, but it isn't going to stop for a long time. As a matter of fact, I might describe my daily dump on every blog. Just think of it:

"It was 4:30 in the morning, and I could just feel that I was gonna drop a huge log. So I go into the bathroom discreetly, not wanting to be detected by the enemy forces. I could smell the air, smelling the past victims of the can. So I shout 'bring it!' and lift up the lid. Slowly, I pull down my Spider-Man underoos. I sit on the seat with a look of fury and determination on my face. I give it a good push and let out my battle cry: 'eeerrrrggghhh!' It just won't come out. 'AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!' I can feel it move a little. Finally, I give it my all: AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHOOOOOOFFFF! I can hear a splash. Finally, I see it: the look of victory! A six-foot long turd in the bowl. I pick myself up, wiping the bloodstains (or poopstains in this case). Victory was officially mine!" Wow, pretty dramatic for a man taking a crap. It could have been a goddamn Tom Clancy novel with the detail and action.

Also, I went online looking for nude photos of Tara Reid. The site is celebritymoviearchive.com, I think. It showed pictures from all the movies Tara Reid has appeared nude in; meaning there were pics from every movie she's done. My favorite was "Body Shots" because the whole movie seemed to be about Tara getting fucked and date raped. Now that's my type of movie. God DAMN, I gotta rent that. There had to be at least 20 pics of her nude in that movie. I beat off to it twice and now my boxer shorts are more moist than they've ever been in my life. So go to the site and take the tour; it'll be the best decision you'll make in your life.

I had a flashback today, remembering when I had tried internet dating. Even then I couldn't get laid, but it at least gave me some hope. Looking back at it, I realize that I was a bit naive. I could have easily been ass raped, seeing as 80 percent of the "women" on internet dating sites are 40-year-old fat white guys fresh out of prison. I can remember my ad like it was yesterday. I can't believe I said what I did, but I figured that honesty was the best policy. It was a big mistake.

"I am an honest and caring guy with a well-hung, two inch cock (well, closer to one and a half, but I learned to round up in my math class) and the incredible sex appeal of Bob Saget. I'm always ready for action, except on Thursday which is my taco day. I'm sure you can understand and will be a lot happier if you do. Besides, I don't want to have to diarreah-shit all over you while we're screwing. Sorry for any inconveniences, but you better get used to it."

That was good enough to get me a girl who said she looked similar to Nicole Kidman. However, when I met her, she had the face of Courtney Love and the body of pre-Trimspa Anna Nicole. She took me to her house, put me in shackles, and damn near ate my dick. I'm now thankful for my size. If it were any bigger, it would have reached passed her embarassingly huge lips and on to her teeth; allowing her to eat it.

However, not every girl was dishonest about her physical appearance. I read an ad for one girl who's motto was "more cushion for the pushin." She said that she was a 300-pound cheerleader. To this day, I can't figure out how the hell she made the cheerleading squad. I think she might have been used as a safety mat in case one of the other cheerleaders fell. I respected her honesty and I asked her out to dinner. However, I got drunk before the date and I thought it would be funny to dig up a corpse. When I got to her house, I took out the corpse, walked up to the door, rang the bell, and then dropped the body and ran. To this day, that is still the best prank I've pulled off in my life.

This blog has managed to make fun of fat girls, my small cock, and my habits of beating off to Tara Reid. However, the only other place you will find these subjects is in every other fucking blog I've posted. So with that being said, I'll leave you with a question: What else is new?

"Bullshit or No Shit?" Vol. 1

2005-01-08T19:31:00.000-05:00

Sorry if the new background is confusing you. I'm trying a little Feng Shui and getting in touch with the artistic side of my mind, body and spirit. I watched an episode of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" and decided that I was a new man. If a man with style is what a woman likes, I might, MIGHT be getting fucked a whole lot more. It's weird how much you can change in just a short period of time. I used to make fun of that show whenever it came on. I'd shout "Fairy boys!" and rub my ass on the tv and say "bet you like that you fucking faggots." Now I have sympathy for the men who take it up the ass. They can take a lot more pain than I can. And I know because I fell on a broomstick earlier today. HAHAHAHA. So I'm just typing this and watching a "porn." It's in a Sears in a mall and it's in the clothes-trying-on-room or changing room (sorry, I can never remember what the fuck that room is called.) It shows about zero hot chicks, and 70 percent of the women in it are over 80. Once again, my porn rule comes in. I'm over 45 seconds into the video, so I'm screwed. Besides, I'm sure I'm gonna bang an old bitch once or twice in my life. I think that's my only shot.

Today I will be starting a new thing. If I see an article that catches my eye, I'll examine it to say if it's true or if it's just crap. Most of them will probably be crap. Today's article is from the KKK's website (don't ask. I was high and I thought it would be funny to find their website.) I saw a HILARIOUS article on why we should abolish Martin Luther King Day. Obviously, this article has more shit in it than a Ukranian's mouth. The first reason they said we should abolish it is because that King Jr.'s father's name was originally Michael, but he switched it to Martin Luther King, after the protestant reformer. Therefore, it should be called "Michael King Day." This is what they're fucking pissed about? If we changed it to "Michael King Day," would they shut the fuck up? Prince changed his name to a fucking symbol and nobody gave a shit, so blow me. By the way, I wanted to let you know that this article was written by Dr. Ed Fields, so you can look him up, track him down, and then electro-shock him and put some goddamn sense into this imbecile. They said that King was affiliated with many people in the Communist party. That's shit. Do you know any black communists? I don't think so. Who was in the Communist form of government? Russia, China, and Cuba. No African-Americans there. If they went there, I'm sure that right when they stepped off the plane, they'd probably say "Fuck this" and get the fuck back here and blaze another hip-hop joint by P. Diddy, that J-Lo fucking nimrod.

They go on to say that King knew a man named Bayard Rustin who was charged with performing lewd homosexual acts in public. Once again, shit, shit, shit, shit! This is in 1953; you couldn't even dance in public. And even Ant wouldn't do something like that. What, did he get on someone's back and shout out "Look, I'm fucking a guy in the front of Walgreens and nobody can fucking stop me! HAHA!" Shit spewing assholes. The KKK has a problem with him because he urged "Black-Jewish Unity." Why not? I know of fucking Nazi-Jewish unity right now. Do you have a problem with interracial friends? Oh, wait, I forgot. You're the fucking KKK! It's too bad that I could go onto any of their computers and find a whole shitload of interracial porn. They're also uppidy because Rustin sayd that America was "Tenaciously racist." Oh yeah, and OF COURSE the KKK isn't racist, is it. Fucking morons. You know, I'm pretty sure that my HAMSTER could beat any of these motherfuckers at Jeopardy. White trash junkies. They also say that Rustin introduced King to a Soviet, A SOVIET, spy named Stanley Levison. Do you know any fucking Russians with the name of Stanley, or a last name of Levison? I don't fucking think so. That's about as likely as finding an Iranian named "Joe." Idiots.

Now is the part when they go on talking more shit about how King sabotaged the Vietnam war effort. Did anybody fucking like the war in Vietnam anyway. I'd have liked it if they killed Dat Phan. The Ku Fucks Klan went on to say that King said that he compared the US troops foreign oppressors and conquers, saying they were "Like Nazis." This is what sabotaged the war? Him calling them Naziz? Oh, poor soldiers. That big bad Mr. King hurt their feelings. Now they can't fight good. The reason we lost the war is because they were well guarded, well armed, and ready to fuck us right up the ass.

They also have a picture of him with Carl and Ann Branden, two people who they claim to be in the Communist Party. They say that although Carl is dead, Ann is still very active. Oh my god, look out for those 80 year old female Communists. Before you know it, they'll take over every early bird dinner in town. They also say how the Communist party funded King. They quote a woman named Julia Brown, who was in the "Communist" party. Sure, fuckface. The quote basically said (I'm paraphrasing) "King went to Communist camp and I'm a Communist and us Communists gotta help out our brother communists and aren't we a bunch of big, fat, fucking communists? Communist this, communist that. Communist, communist, communist." I could tell by reading this that the KKKok masters were eather bluffing and typing a bunch of shit up; or Julia was retarded. Obviously it's not choice number two. If you picked that, I hate to break it to you, but you're an in-the-closet white supremacist retard. If it were number two, the only thing she'd probably be able to say is "YAY! Martin Lutha King!"

Other shit-spewing lies that the KKK spreads include saying that King forced white women to drink "Black Russian" (HAHAHA! Now that's fucking funny), going to Vegas and banging prostitutes (hey, who hasn't?), and banging his dentist's wife (Bullshit. Have you SEEN you're fucking dentist and what he looks like? Chances his wife isn't worth the time). The KKK says it is about love, not hate. Yeah, that's why you have meetings where you talk about nothing but how much you hate n***ers. That's why you post a bunch of shit about a role model and a national hero on your website. Is that love? Just because you're a bunch of morbidly obese crackers who have no chance of amounting to anything doesn't mean you have to talk shit and spread lies about someone who's better than you. And for you KKK members, all I have to say to you is: "Have a happy MARTIN LUTHER King Day, you fat fuckers.!"

So, the verdict: Shittier than the movie "Gigli."

It's Finally Friday!

2005-01-07T23:30:00.000-05:00

I tried to call the cocksucking bitch again, but got an answering machine. I have a strange phobia of answering machines. I'm not quite sure why, but I do. I think I see them torturing me in my dreams. "Hi, you've reached _________, please leave a brief message and...... ROAR!! I'm gonna fucking kill you Zach!" That's how I usually see answering machines.

I was watching another porno earlier (once again, what's new?) entitled "DOGma." (No joke, it was spelled just like that) If you haven't figured out where this one's going, you never will. I play the movie and it starts with a girl examining her naked body in the mirror. Then, Spike walks in. Spike is not a man or a woman. Spike... is a DOG. I was going to exit, but I have a rule when it comes to porn: If you already have a hard on or it is at least 45 seconds into the movie; you're fucked. No getting out, no websurfing for something else. You're stuck here, Jack. So, the dog walks in, and starts humping the fuck out of her. The dog was having a great time, but unfortunately for the girl, the director took no precautionary measures in case the dog took a shit on the set. The dog starts doing the "I gotta take a fucking dump" whine. Nobody listens to the dog, so eventually the dog says "fuck it" and poos all over the dumb bitch. It looked like a wet "Baby Ruth" bar, althouth I'm sure it doesn't taste anything like one. In case you want to know what the shit tastes like, ask the girl in the porn video. In the end, the dog cums and the girl gets up to wash her shit-stained face.

I love Fridays. I have been stood up for every date I've had on Fridays, which is my only complaint about Friday. I think I should ask out girls on Tuesdays and switch it up a little. Why do people find it funny to ditch their dates, anyways? Wait, never mind. If I were going out with a fat chick with a severe acne problem, I'd think it would be really fucking funny to ditch them. I think that movies should portray love in a different way. One stud meets a hot girl at a party, or a restaurant, or a funeral, or in the sewage plant (not really), and it's love at first sight and they take it back to the girl's trailer and they fuck all night. Or the good-looking guy meets the fine-ass girl and at first, the girl hates the guy. But after he kills her boyfriend and then calls her and threatens to push her in his father's woodchipper, she starts to befriend the guy. After twelve margarita's, they dry-hump in the back of his Honda Accord. I think romance movies should show two fat slobs after they've been married for nine years and name the movie: "I Told You Five Times That I Took The Kids To Day Care. Now Shut The Fuck Up, Bitch!" It will show the romantic scenes that they have on the third Tuesday of every other month after they get done watching the Maury Povich Show. After they are done, she tells him that they need to talk meanwhile he ignores her and gets up to microwave a Marie Callender's Chicken Pot Pie. Or they can make a movie about a stalker trying to go after Mariah Carey. He continues to go after her, even after his friends try to talk him out of it, reminding him that she is the ugliest bitch in the world... oh wait, that title belongs to Christina Aguilera. I remember when I saw Christina Aguilera's "Dirrty" music video. I couldn't get a hard on for three months. Anyways, the guy ends up sending bombs in the mail, anthrax and free Pizza Hut coupons (don't ask) until one day, she catches him and they both commit suicide at the same time. I know that's probably a more horrid, sucky ending than any of the movies in the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, but that prooves that I'm an unintelligent slob that failed my freshman english class.

Well, peeps, got to go. I once again wrote a post that had nothing to do with the title, but that's me, Good Ol' ADD Zach. (Please kill me the next time I use the words "Good Ol" when describing myself) I think I'll beat off to Mariah Carey while fighting off my fantasies of killing her.

Cocksucking Bitch!

2005-01-07T02:26:00.000-05:00

Have you ever had a great day and then have it FUCKING get RUINED in the end? This was one of those fucking days. It started out good. I saw "Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle." The movie was fairly funny, not a whole lot of a plot, but it was funny. It was sick and politically incorrect; which makes it double fucking awesome. When the movie was finished, I felt like going to a 7-Eleven and ass-raping the clerk with a fucking shish kabob.

Then I saw "Garden State." It put me in a great mood, as it had some funny lines with a lovey-dubby feeling. It was a sweet movie that helped me find my feminine side. I actually cried at the end (insert stupid insult here). It made me realize that I was in love with one of my female friends. I had to show her; so I wrote up a very sweet song. I also looked online to find "Meet the Fockers" and buy some tickets. As you can tell, I'll have to use those tickets for myself. I figure with two seats, I can sit in the back of the theatre and jerk off; using the other seat as a place to deposit my sperm when I'm done (Hey, Pee-Wee Herman style).

Anywho, here's what happened. I called her up and I was feeling really optimistic. I had my lyric sheet by me, because I hadn't taken any fucking time to memorize the goddamn lyrics, and my movie tickets ready. However, when I called, the stupid bitch did a tell tale move: she picked up the phone and hung up immediately before I had said anything. This means one of two things: she has Parkinson's, meaning she couldn't control her shaking hands and she accidentally hung up; or she wanted to say "Drop dead, fuckface," but was too polite to say it over the phone. The fact that the stupid whore didn't take the time to call me back leads me to believe that it was probably option number two. So I called her back and got the answering machine; now I'm one hundred percent sure that the bitch is avoiding me. So I left a sweet message on her answering machine. I will quote it word for word: "Hey ______! It's me, Zach. I know this is going to come off strange, but I love you. And if you are interested in a man who is hung like a donkey and his favorite hobby is plucking off his pubic hairs and measuring them, please call me back. All you have to do is look my name up in the phone book, which is how I found yours." It finally occurred to me that no matter how much you care about a person, they aren't going to give a rat's giant shit about unless you're: a) good looking, b) rich, or c) all of the above. The fact that I have the sex appeal of Madaline Albright, even then only on a good day, and am about ten thousand dollars in debt eliminates any chance I have of getting laid; without having to pay for it. I now hate everyone that has found "true love." If I hear one more person say that, I'll dismember them, using their limbs to beat their "life partner" to death. I'll take the line "Till death do us part" to a new level. The thing that really pisses me the fuck off is that she hung up the phone without allowing me to at least say "hi." The fact that her heart was so cold that she did this. I would have been satisfied with anything else. Even "Zach, I'm kinda busy blowing my boyfriend's cock right now; which is something you'll never be able to experience, well, not from me at least. I think I'll have my big black boyfriend track you down, beat you to death, and then me and him will simultaneously take a shit in your mouth. If you ever call me again, I'm going after your dick with a steak knife and a pair of tweasers." Just to hear her voice would have given me that feeling. That hard-on that you can't even imagine. But just wait, one day I'll show that annorexic street skank who her daddy is. One day, when the small cock porn becomes the big market for stag films, she's gonna want me and my two inch Johnsonville Brautwurst. And I'll fuck her up the ass fuck her, oh shit, premature ejaculation. Maybe when she calls me, I'll scream "Cuntbag!" and hang up right in her face and give her a taste of her own medicine. For now, it's time for a bachelor show bio: (in extremely homosexual game show announcer voice) "Bachelor number one: You won't find many people like him, and if you did, you'd probably run, chop of your tits and claim to be a man. He is like a human cockroach, no matter what you do, you can't get rid of him. He'll stand outside of your front door yelling 'Pussy! Pussy!' at three in the morning. If you choose him as your date, you will probably end up strangling him with a phone chord or electricuting him while he's in the bathtub. Good luck getting rid of the small dick images that will haunt you in your dreams for at least 35 more years."

I know my life is fairly good, but moments like these can cause me to go into a deep state of depression. I tried to slit my wrist today, but the sharpest thing I found was a crayon. I still wish she would see me for the sweet, funny, sociopath man that I am. I still don't believe in true love and I may never believe in it again. I guess I'll have to wait until men hung like a fly are back in style and get into the porn industry. I was thinking about ending this with that callback, but realized that it sucks ass. I didn't even fucking stick to the topic. So I'll end it with a letter that I wrote to god.

Dear God,

You really fucked up this time. The one person I cared about more than anyone or anything is a stuck up little bitch. Well, I've got something you want. I'm sure you've realized by now that I've kidnapped Jesus. If you ever want to see him again, listen up motherfucker. Send seven whores, 50 million dollars, and Michael Jackson (To take care of my neighbor's goddamn kids to: (My address here). Hurry, Jesus doesn't enjoy what I'm doing to him. Think, god. What would Jesus do? I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that he wouldn't keep taking it up the... never mind.

Sincerely,

Zach

It's A New Year, Bitch

2005-01-05T23:41:00.000-05:00

It's the start of a new year, and once again; I don't have a resolution. I can never fugure out what I should change in my life, although friends and family can point out a million things that are wrong with me. My resolution was to stop watching porn, but there's more of a chance of me cutting my balls off than that happening. Speaking of porn, I watched another one today. I know that this is getting a little redundant, but until I get laid, it's not going to stop. Anyway, the porno flick, was of a black couple going anal. The movie would have been good if the girl had tits that didn't make her look like an ape. The guy looked similar to Samuel L. Jackson, except with a feminine side. He kept saying "I love you" instead of the normal "Fuck harder, bitch." He made sure this was what she wanted and said they could "just cuddle" if that's what she wanted. Which is better than me saying "suck that cock, n**ger." Having said that, I will probably be shot in a matter of weeks.

This new year has been full of surprises. Dog shit in the kitchen, dog shit on the couch, dog shit on the TV (this is another thing that you don't ask about). As you can see, I think the only problem with the world is dog shit. Shit that comes out of a dog's ass. Not hunger or disease, just dog shit. People say "We're killing civillians in Iraq just for oil." Good. Fuck them up the ass and take their money the prison thug way. I've also been playing golf and working on some new songs, my latest song being an ACDC cover. It will have a romantic side to it. The song is about a relationship in a concentration camp between a Nazi soldier and a Jewish woman and it covers the song "You Shook Me," except that my song is called "You Cooked Me." I can picture it now:

"The pan starting shaking
I thought you were faking
But instead I was baking cause
You cooked me all night long"

I'm sure you can tell which one of the two is becoming a deep-fried Jew.

I had a strange day today. I had dinner at the "Kingdom Buffet" (A Chinese buffet with great food.) and I saw a woman that was at least 6-foot-3; meaning that there's an 80 percent chance that she's Rupaul. I also saw a retarded sixty year old. If I were that old and STILL retarded, I'd kill myself (that is, if I could keep myself from drooling on the gun. It was hard to understand what he said, not only because he is retarded, but because there was a chinese waiter taliking at an obnoxiously loud level in Chinese trying to take an American's order. However, the main part of that was because he was retarded. I think they should install a robotic voice box on him, similar to the one Stephen Hawking has (I know I'm gonna burn in hell for that one.)

Although I'm a hell-bound asshole, I have a sensitive side (my balls are really sensitive, in case you ladies were wondering). I like to frolic in the flowers in the springtime, hold hands and watch romantic comedies. I'm a melodramatic pussy, and that's something I own up to with pride. Men need a sensitive side, actually they don't. I really don't have a sensitive side, (once again, except for my balls. They really are sensitive.) I just wrote this paragraph up so you'd actually think I've done nothing but go on the Maxim website and crank it out all day. Also, I hate romantic comedies because they don't reveal what a skank the girl really is. I've come to detest pretty girls, probably because I can't get any, and I've even started to hate them. I've tried to be the nice guy, but they like it better when black Marcus or JaQuielle or JaQueef or Queer was being the abusive pimp. Maybe I should pose as the rapist, although that doesn't work for white people. My two mottos in life have been "everybody needs love" and "somebody's gotta bang those fatties." I think I'll put on the beer goggles and stick with option number 2. Folks, I have a new year's resolution: get laid. Even if she's a morbidly obese black girl with tits like an ape.

Dodgeball

2004-12-29T14:48:00.000-05:00

Today was a normal day. I woke up and decided to "crank one out" while thinking about that Tara Reid look-alike I mentioned earlier. I pictured me trying to place a thimble on her cock, I mean, pussy. Okay, that was strange if I must say so myself.

Speaking of women with cocks, I finally saw one today. It was on one of those dating sites for one-night stands (please don't ask.) She had a nice tit-and-cock combination and it actually looked a little better than, uh, horrible. The surgically attached dick was plain white, not caucasian-colored white, but printing paper white and it looked as if it was covered in some strange, clear liquid. She had no balls, making it one weird cock. This no-ball style allowed me to see a little bit of her pussy; so I thought that it would be perfectly fine to beat off to her. All I had to do was to pretend that her cock was just a vibrator. It took a lot of reassurance and I will never be able to think about vibrators the way I used to.

I saw the movie Dodgeball today. Oh, that surgically attached cock. Dodging having to get balls. Did I say cock? I meant vibrator, vibrator, vibrator. Okay, back to the subject. The movie itself was alright, but I found myself focusing on Christine Taylor; Ben Stiller's wife. I found myself drooling over her when she was in the dominatrix outfit. I'd love to be her kid. I'd breast feed from her until I'm 20. Unfortunately, I'd have one problem: Getting around Ben. How can I make my dream come true without sounding like an insensitive perv? Obviously "Dear Mr. Stiller, I wanna fuck your wife." won't work. I guess I would have to say that I'm terminal and promise to use a rubber; provided I find one that fits.

I myself am working on an underdog sports novel. It will be about mud wrestling. A young woman wants to join NAMBLA, I mean, NAMWA. (Sorry, I get confused a lot being a NAMBLA member.) NAMWA is the North American Mud Wrestling Association. When she asks to join, the other hot female wrestlers laugh at her and say that her huge boobies will get in her way. But she ignores them. She is determined to win so she goes out and finds a mud wrestling coach by the name of Joe Josephson. (Hey, a perfect redneck name.) Joe is a pervert and an avid porno-movie watcher and he puts his reviews on semenonmyhands.com. However watching porn has been a little more difficult for him since the terrible strip club accident that left him paralyzed from the middle of his neck down. (Once again, please don't ask. I don't know; I'm just making this up as I go along.) Fortunately, he trained a "Paralyzed Person Helper" monkey to jerk him off. Tit Woman (Sorry, that's the only name for her that I can think of for her at this time.) and White Trash Joe work for hours on end. At first, her tits keep pulling her down in the mud. However, she won't quit and gets back up and tries again. Her hard work pays off when she wins the Heavytit Division World Championship of Mud Wrestling and the grand prize: 20 bucks and a six-pack of Bud's.

I wish I could tell you more, but unfortunately; I'm very busy. I've got a lot of shit to do and little time to do it in. I have to go next door and see if Michael Jackson will let me borrow his monkey, Bubbles, so I can have him jerk me off.

Porn and Sexual Abuse

2004-12-27T21:53:00.000-05:00

It's hard to believe that Reggie White, the greatest defensive end of our time, passed away yesterday. I will always remember him as a kind, right-wing christian fat ass. Those Cheeseburgers sure did take their toll on your heart, didn't they Reggie?

Anywho, I'm thinking about writing a movie. I don't have a title yet, but that's okay. It will be a romantic comedy about C.F. Turner, the lead singer of Bachman-Turner Overdrive (That band that made that shitty sont "Taking Care of Business.") It will talk about him overcoming his speech impediment by meeting a girl that convinces him to go into the recording industry despite his stuttering problem. That's when he writes "You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet." Words used most frequently in the song: B-b-b-baby you just ain't seen n-n-n-nothin' yet. Wait a second. I want to make sure that you know that I was just shitting you this whole paragraph. If I ever wrote a movie, it would be 25 minutes long and have nothing but dick jokes in it; with the title being none other than "Blow Me." I would probably make a sequel, which would be the same title, just add "Harder" at the end.

I had an odd day today, going to the golf course. I saw a hot chick checking me out. She looked just like Tara Reid, except for the fact that she was flat-chested and was wearing more than a bra-and-panty set from the Blue-Light Special section from K-Mart. I hit on her (Hey, she was Tara Reid's Mini Me after all), but quickly we got to the part where I fond out her age. Unfortunately, she was twelve, which means she's so tight that I couldn't shove a pencil through her pussy. But my dick fit just fine, so I decided to bang her anyway.

I talked to the girl I want to bang today. I think she's catching on to the fact that I dream about her nonstop and that when I think about her, I tie my one and a half inch buddy in a knot and try to jump rope with it. She said that she was in Ohio and that she was going to be smacked down with long distance charges. However, I called her fucking house phone, so that was bullshit.

I am eating a pizza and watching internet porn, making this an "Italian Party" themed night. I like the old people porn, seeing as I was (and still am on a daily basis) sexually abused (actually, I kinda liked it) by my grandmother years ago. My grandmother is a hefty young lady, and she really needs to shave her beaver that's covered in white hairs. If she does that, I think the abuse will be more enjoyable. The old people porn I'm looking at is cool, seeing as the man looks like my grandfather that recently passed away. The man in the porno looks like he's starting to rot, too. The woman isn't all that impressive, seeing as she looks like a heavier version of Kirstie Alley. I can't believe she managet to fit on the video. All I have to say is thank god the guy is on top.

I've finally ejaculated, and it got all over the keyboard, which sucks because I like this keyboard. I have to be very careful typing this, because if the moisture from the semen gets into the electrical parts of the keyboard, I'll be found dead the next day with my embarassingly small cock hanging out. Unfortunately, I'm getting a hard on again, because I can hear my neighbor having sex. I would probably be a little hornier if my neighbor wasn't gay. He looks a lot like a cross between Star Jones and Yoda, meaning he's probably Michael Jackson. I've never dared to go over there and find out who he really is, because if he is Michael Jackson, I'm still borderline fuckable. That thought has just shot my hard-on. I guess the only way I can get it back is by thinking about a threesome with a twelve-year-old Tara Reid look-alike and my grandmother. See ya later, motherfuckers.

Shitmas Day

2004-12-26T02:41:00.000-05:00

Christmas sucked again. I am probably going to write a song about my christmas experience and call it "Kill My Neighbor." They had a fucking party until 2 A.M. last night and I damn near snapped on CHRISTMAS! If I'd have had an ax I would have been more chop-happy than Carla Faye Tucker. This Christmas has made me realize that my family doesn't give a rat's turd in a hat about me. They tell me gifts are about quality, not quantity. If stuff from the Dollar Tree Store is top-of-the-line quality, good job mom. When people say "it's about quality, not quantity," this is what they mean (I'll use a sex experience for an example): "Well, your cock is the size of a thimble, and I'd rather not 'get it on' on the first Tuesday of every other month, as scheduled. I think I'll break out the vibrator from now on and turn lesbo unless you get some enlargment pills, take the whole bottle, and stop screwing like a retarded, catholic schoolgirl." For Christmas, it means: "The family got together this year, and we decided that we were worth more money. Hit the lottery, and you'll get more than a yo-yo and talking bass."

I think I'll talk about my worst christmas experiences to date for this christmas season. It's a fitting subject, because today's Christmas.

When I was four, I got a mini-golf set with putters, a mat with a hole in it, and a bag. Would I be a future Tiger Woods? Not so. The first swing I took, the putter slipped right out of my hands and went through the sliding-glass door. We had to take my presents back and get a refund to pay for the damages. I took up golf six years later and I'm worse now than I was then.

When I was seven, my mom and dad worked together to buy me a monkey. The monkey was a wild jungle fellow. His hobbies included urinating on me and various members of my family. Unfortunately, he pissed on the toaster while it was toasting, setting our house on fire. The only pets we have bought since that fateful day have been Neon Tetra Fish.

When I was twelve, my uncle Joseph (Uncle on my mom's side of the family) decided to stop by that Christmas to see if we could loan him $70,000. When he called, we had a feeling that he would be begging from us, seeing as the only time he visits is when he wants us to pay his bills or when he wants to fuck my mom. He thought it would be real funny to light farts at christmas dinner. However, I had to go to the kitchen to get a soda. To make a long story short, I bumped into him, causing the flame to touch his Route 66 Jeans; setting him ablaze. We haven't seen him since then; probably because he's dead. To top it off, the only thing I got that christmas was a Prince (Later to be known as *&##^@$*#!#&$) CD. There was a bright spot, fortunately. Despite the fact that uncle Joe was burnt to a crisp, at least the house wasn't this time.

I realize that this blog sucks, like all of my other ones. All I have to say is "get used to it." I think I need some Zoloft and an Ethopian kid to change my outlookon life. I need to turn the negative into positive. Even Carla Faye would respect that, just before she goes Paul Bunyan on my ass.

Ready For Christmas

2004-12-20T11:23:00.000-05:00

Christmas has nearly driven me insane, making me feel like I should shoot the next person who says "Happy Holidays." This politically correct bullshit has gotten way out of hand. They're trying to come up with a name for ALL holidays. Chrismakwanzakahannadan, Ramachaismakwanzahanukachristmadan, and I can't type anymore fucking letters. It's Christmas, so fuck you. Go back to where you came from if you have a problem with it. I'm part Jewish and I don't give a fuck. As a matter of fact, don't mention hanukkah. It sucks.

This Christmas season has caused me to try to find the true meaning of Ba Humbug. (Thought I was gonna say Christmas, didn't you?ASSHOLE) I've seen "A Christmas Carol" about eighty-five times and I still don't know how to use it. If someone says "I fucked your girlfriend" do you respond with a "ba humbug?" I like that word, because it pisses off right wing christians who take this holiday way too seriously. Santa= Satan; bullshit. I thought satan stole instead of giving presents to children. He's even involved in the Toys For Tots program; that fat, jolly, old man. I'd love to be able to give something to Santa. I'll give him what he gave me: dog shit (maybe it was reindeer shit, knowing him)

Although I like the idea of letting your kids have fun with Christmas and believe in Santa, I hate Santa Claus extremists. "He, Johnny! Let's write Santa a letter!" Fuck that shit, that sounds like homework. Wasn't the trip to the mall enough? If he didn't get it through his fat skull then, he'll never get it. No Micro Machine Metropolis for me this year. The Santa website? That's right, Santa has his own goddamn website. I guess we're too lazy to get up and go to the mall; e-mail the elves. You know what I think? I think you should stand in line like the rest of us, bitch.

Well, Christmas sucks. I guess I suck, also. I'm just a young man who still believes in santa. I really fucking suck.

Christmas Party: Part 2

2004-12-18T00:55:00.000-05:00

I am going to inform you about my days before I go on talking about my suck ass Christmas party. I had an odd day Thursday, running into my lesbian third grade teacher. She's really not a lesbian; I'm just saying that because I hate her. I hope she falls in the fireplace and suffers a long, agonizing death. She saw me, and right when I saw her, I knew that she was drunker (is that even a word?) and meaner than ever. She said she was surprised to see me, but I didn't like her tone so I kicked her in the nuts. That night, I also got laid. I was gettin' it on. Oh, man was my sister amazing.

Today sucked ass. I found out Don Donatello lost to Kip on the Big Break II (The Big Break is a reality/competition show on the golf channel, for those of you who have no fucking idea of what I'm talking about.) I also had my dialogue to work on. I worked my ass off on it over the last week and when I came in, I found out that my partner had memorized two fucking lines. I felt like I wanted to pull down my pants and drop a log (a shit) right down his throat.

Anyways, about the screwing on Thursday (actually it wasn't my sister. Wasn't anybody actually. I just had a fantasy moment while I masturbated onto some Chips Ahoy Cookies.) it was awsome. I used my new seducing method, which has me spraying a can of Mountain Dew on my bare ass while I strip dance to the Rolling Stones song "Beast of Burden." When the song ends, I'll look at her with a playful smile on my face and say "Did that turn you on?" To which she'll answer my question with an overwhelming and heartwarming "NO!!!" Anywho, the sex lasted a nice long three minutes, which made me happy since it was a new record for me. The girl I was donk-donking was a very hot (and obviously blind) Italian girl with nice bazoomers. I almost cut them off with my J.A. Heinchels carving knife so I could have a souvineur (SOO-vin-EER for pronunciation help because I can't spell). Her cooch-cooch kind of smelled like a racoon that had been hit by a car a week ago and was just starting to decompose. After I had done my business, she had to go into the bathroom to "finish the job" that I had done so poorly.

Now, I will talk about the Christmas party. It was a great party seeing as I got to sit next to the three hottest foxes I had seen in my life. The hot scale: two 10's and one 20! The 20's name was Emily. Emily is a good name, unless the dad came up with that name, making him a pussy. What kind of dad would give their kid a bitch name like "Emily?" Pussy bitch. She was giving me the eye the whole night and I was sure she would be mine. Unfortunately, I used the wrong catch phrase/pickup line. I smiled and looked at her and said "You know, I think you looked better when the lights were off." She excused herself, awkwardly, from the table. Not letting me have a peek at her melon jugs. Her clothes showed off her incredible body. Her outfit showed so much. Compared to her, Jenna Jameson looked like a fucking nun.

The food was horrible. I have eaten TV Dinner chicken nuggets without microwaving them that have tasted better than the chicken there. The chicken must have been cooked at 20 degrees. The plates were smaller than my dick, so I could only fit two nachos and 1 chicken wing on the plate.

The pastor told us about the true meaning of Christmas, telling us about the virgin birth of Jesus and reminding us that Mary wasn't a whore. Yeah, right. "Joseph, I swear, it's God's baby." Yeah, like I haven't heard that excuse before.

The music was awesome. The band leader had a Taylor acoustic guitar. I would have held him up at gunpoint and jacked it from him if I weren't in church. Unfortunately, I was, so all I could do was give him the finger in the middle of praise and worship.

The ending was nice, as I paid for my New Year's Eve trip to Boomers in Dania. Last year's party was awesome, except for the fact that there was a limit on the ALL YOU CAN EAT buffet. (Fucking liars) I will probably sexually harass the girls while I'm there and leave the place with thousands of dollars of damages just like I did last time.

All things considered, maybe my life is a trainwreck. The only time I'm not watching internet porn and beheading videos is when I'm eating a bag of Frito's and typing this up. I don't know how I got this way, seeing as I have a mom who probably wouldn't even allow me to dance. We all have a weird side, some more than others and a select few who are mental hospital- worthy. But that's what life's about, solving our differences and smoothening out our rough edges. Ah, what the fuck am I saying? I guess I'm bipolar and the melodramatic bitch side of me is coming out again.

Suicide

2004-12-18T00:43:00.000-05:00

I think I'm an odd young man. I guess it had something to do with the extreme punishment I received growing up. When I misbehaved, my mom would drop me on my head over and over again until I had learned my lesson. It's too bad that I can't remember what those lessons were. Now the only memories I have of my childhood are the scars and the fact that my head looks so goddamn weird.

I am writing this because my only other option was to go on steakandcheese.com and look at cartoon porn, which I am getting extremely sick of. Besides, if I chop my cherry tree like George Washington taught us how to do, (I'm so creative) I'm sure the scabs on my ding-a-ling-ping-ping will quickly turn into scars.

Well before I wander off the subject too much and start making up a bullshit story about how I saw the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (see, they ARE real!) with Liza Minelli, I'll stick to my subject I have chosen to post.

This world drives us to do crazy things. If you're Saddam Hussein, you gas your own people, although I'm sure that was by no fault of his own. He'd probably be a lot more calm, cool, and collected if he loosened up the turban and moved to a country with a cooler climate. (heat plays some crazy tricks on the brain.) The most common of these crazy things is suicide. I've never experienced suicide, (obviously I haven't or else how the fuck am I writing this blog?) but I've heard it's bad. (once again, no shit, Sherlock.) I think suicide is a complicated process. The person committing suicide must have the mental stability of Adolf Hitler. I've thought of some things that might drive me over the edge and cause me to commit suicide.

When I was twelve, I fell in love for the first time. As you damn well have figured out within the last five seconds, she wasn't so smitten towards me. She was beautiful, and one of the few girls her age developing some meaty bosoms. Looking back, I think it was foolish of me to fall for a girl who was even more mentally insecure than myself. She's changed her hair color six times in the last three days. And that's just her pubes. Besides, she was just the skank of the week anyways. But I will still miss those meaty jugs. I will never forget that falling for her told me not to fear that fuzzy feeling I had in my heart; just shoot the person causing that feeling.

Several hundred rejections later, I found myself believing in god and giving offerings. I came to church with all 90 dollars that I had, giving sixty. I have yet to receive a reward from "god" for that offering. It has brought out the cheap Jew side of me. I now prefer to give to my "Baby Ruth" foundation than to the church.

Here's when it gets bad. When I went to Disney World two years ago Mickey Mouse fondled me while I was on "It's a Small World." First of all, I hate the song. I think that no song should be sung in 32 different languages. Secondly, I was raped by a goddamn MASCOT of a CARTOON CHARACTER. Do you know how freakishly embarassing that is? I will have mental scars that Dr. Phil can't fix. Finally, not only was it a cartoon character, but a cartoon character of a very vulnerable animal. Cheese and a mouse trap is all it takes to bring him down and I was still his Zippidy-Doo-Dah bitch. I suck. And boy, was I sucking on that ride.

I was also in a poetry club. That's enough to drive any sane man off the deep end. Thank god I can still keep my dignity being the most uncreative slob in the club. My work was of the "Roses are Red, Violets are Blue" genre. Here's a poem about an ex-girlfriend:

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
No matter how much you deny it,
You can't avoid the fact that I banged you

See my sensitive side?

Well, I don't have enough reasons to commit suicide; plus, I'm too lazy to write the fucking note. Although with how horrible this blog was, I'll have another reason to kill myself. See ya next time, cocksuckers!

Christmas Party Part 1

2004-12-16T12:01:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was my church Christmas party (what, are you surprised I go to church? Idiot.) I had a great time, throwing snot covered chicken at my youth pastor. He's a husky young man who could be the new poster boy for the Big Mac. He's a loving pastor, calling every girl in the youth group a "whore," "skank," or "slut."

I went to the party with a sprained finger after practicing kickboxing moves with a kid named Hugo. Hugo is short for "Hugostainislav" which means "I'm gay" in Russian. He thought it was okay to go "chop suey" on my hand. I will have to update you with more later as I am typing thiss in school and I could be expelled for this.

Beheadings and Weird Shit

2004-12-12T01:15:00.000-05:00

I have found a great website for sick and hilarious things like drunk pedestrians getting hit by cars, hangings and beheadings. The site is ogrish.com. You can find some pretty fucked up stuff. But before I get to the good stuff, let me tell you about my day so far.

The alarm rang at about 6 a.m. I hit the snooze to get a few extra minutes and woke up at about 1 o'clock. Hey, its Saturday. I had many chores to do today, one of which was mowing the lawn. I have to mow the lawn and do everything else around here because my dad is too goddamn lazy. I had a new lawnmower to deal with. It was a light green color, it looked like the Fab 5 from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy made it. It had self-propelled wheels, not something I was used to. But I did a great job handling the lawn mower, running into more things than Billy Joel.

I also had to rape up, I mean, rake up (sorry, had another Freudian slip) the dead grass from the bare spot in the yard. The reason we had a bare spot in the yard was because that was where we stored the sticks that fell off the tree in the hurricanes. Changing the subject, the hurricanes struck right in the middle of my un-sweet sixteenth birthday. I was going to play golf at the Diplomat Resort and Country Club, but that obviously never happened. All I got was a cell phone. I didn't even want a cell phone. It's a shitty excuse for a gift. It's an irritating machine. "Hey Zach, it's mom. Where are you?" "I'M IN THE FUCKING HOUSE YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" The cell phone companies try to lure you in with ringtones and games. Don't fall for it. The ringtones sound more like hospital heartbeat monitors than songs and the games have the graphics of a fucking Atari. What's the definition of the word "cellular phone?" I'll tell you: piece of shit.

Well, I finished up my chores and went on the computer. Just to be funny, I typed "beheadings" into the search engine. It came up with many sites, my favorite being ogrish.com. The first picture I saw was hilarious. It was a picture of a drunk pedestrian getting hit by a car. What sucks is that he was being responsible and not driving and he STILL got his ass killed. That is why drinking and driving is a good choice. I almost thought that that was sad for a second, but then remembered that I am a mean and insensitive asshole so I kept on laughing.

Another hilarious photo was one of a public hanging of convicted rapists. You should see the look on their faces. It looked like the face that my Pentacostal Christian mom would make if I told her I was worshipping the devil.

On to the videos. The first one was a video of an alligator show (we all know where this one is going to end up) of some country in Asia (didn't take the time to respect their culture and find out what the name of the country was.) The video was of a man trying to show the audience that he could royally piss of an alligator and not get eaten alive. Obviously, he failed. He kept slapping the gator in it's snout until it ripped his arm off. Blood flying everywhere and I couldn't have been happier. After this was over and the man was led offstage, they zoomed in on the blood-covered face of the alligator. It looked so happy and content. I know I would have been if I were him.

Finally, the beheading video. This was pure gold. It was in Iraq, but the person being beheaded wasn't American; so I had an excuse for watching the video. They go on talking in Iraquian (don't know what the language used in Iraq is) about how despicable this man was. Finally they decide to go Benihana on his head. They don't use a guillotine, they use one of those 20-year old rusted hacksaws that you would find buried in your shed. While they're cutting away, you can see the blood oozing out of his neck. The squishy sounds were so surreal. It was heaven (for me and him. Those 72 virgins. Lucky son of a bitch.). They place his head on his back and his face has a proud look to it, as if he wanted to be beheaded the whole time. He probably did. If I had 72 virgins waiting for me, you'd see a smile on my face when my decapitated head was placed on my headless corpse, as long as the virgins didn't end up looking like Yasmine Bleeth's mug shot when she was arrested for DUI.

P.S.

How many Freudians does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Two. One to screw in the bulb and one to hold the penis, I mean, ladder.

Candace

2004-12-11T20:18:00.000-05:00

Well, looks like I'm excited about my new blog here. Three in one day.

Anyways, I can picture Candace now. Her tight pants that show off her perfectly molded beaver. Her baby blue shirt worn with no bra that let me see her monsterous milk jugs (and I'm not talking about McArthur cartons HAHAHAHAHA!). I'd suck those tits so hard I'd rip them off. She sure is a hot bitch.

I think my life would be complete if I could just suck those juicy tits while jerking off. When I climax, I'll cum all over her nose and lick it off. I'll then ask her to finger me up the ass while doing a Jack Nicholson impression, to which she'd politely say "Fuck no." I'll then ask her to print up photos of Gary Shandling, David Hasselhoff, Tom Cruise, Jeff Garcia, Matt Damon, Ben Affleck and one of Matt Damon and Ben Affleck together. I'd pay her half of my life's savings: three dollars. After getting these photos, I'd unsuccessfully try to blow myself. I would then have to cope with sticking it into my belly button while she stradled my face. I'd once again ask her to finger my ass while doing a Jack Nicholson impression. She would reject my request again. Her rejection leaves me no other choice but to slaughter her. I'd cut her throat while ejaculating in her hair and watching reruns of "Gilligan's Island." I'd hide her body in the closet, bringing her out whenever I get horny. When she starts to stink, I'll chop her up into little pieces and feed her to the dog; using her bones to start my own drumstick company.

I can see I've gone off on a tangent again. I just need love. If you're a horny girl (or guy) that likes photos of Matt Damon and Ben Affleck screwing each other and you like getting semen splooged on various parts of your cranium, please sign your name in the comments box.

P.S.

For those of you who do sign, I have a two-inch knob and my scent is reminiscent of the ass of a man who just walked out of a San Franscisco bath house.

Update to: "My First Week!"

2004-12-11T17:58:00.000-05:00

I accidently bumped into the CTRL key, which automatically publishes your blog. Sorry!

What ends up happening is that I don't get that whore in my first hour class. Instead I bang the retarded girl that always bugs me. I go to her place, get her in bed, and she starts screaming "mommy , mommy!" I'll think she's making fun of me, untin her mom walks in. Her mom will say that we can't be friends anymore and that she'll never let me borrow her daughter's "Tickle-Me-Elmo."

I go on to talk about how I've fucked up my whole life, you know, just stupid , melodramatic shit.

My First Week!

2004-12-11T17:01:00.000-05:00

I am doing this blog on my whole week. Usually you're supposed to do them about a certain day, but I don't give a rat's ass. If you have a problem with that, fuck yourself! As many people can see, I'm doing this for me, not for anyone else seeing as only four people will be reading my blog. well anywho, my writing starts on Tuesday and ends on Friday. So I'll shut the hell up and start now.

Tuesday- Well, I've added to my list of oral STD's. On top of having my throat Ghonnoreah (did I spell that right?) I now have my lip herpes (cold sore). Must be that skanky whore that I visit for only ten dollars (hmm, that's where I got it from).

Anywho, I woke up today knowing I had FCAT (Florida Comprehensive Assessment Test) Diagnostic Tests, so I deliberately forgot my pencil. It was my small way of protesting Jeb Bush and how he's fucked up the whole school system. Tere are many things in live that will never be explained. Things like the Hanging Gardens (of Babylon?), or The Leaning Tower of Piza (in Russia? HAHAHAH okay, that was dumb), or how Jeb Bush was elected governor of Florida. We've already had two diagnostic tests and we'd probably have had three by now if it weren't for the hurricanes. Is this really helping us pass? In my opinion, those who can't pass the test now, never will. They're screwed!

So I walked into my math class without my pencil, ready to take FCAT Test #1 from Hell. I prayed that there would be some mistake and that I wouldn't have to take the test. Just like that, a miracle happened. The greatest Christmas present ever. My prayer was answered. For the Lord hath shown me the light. Can I get an Awwww Yeah! (awww yeah!) Hallelujah! (Okay, I know what you're thinking: I bombed again. It happens, get used to it.) My teacher (he looks like a fat Matthew Perry) began to pass out answer sheets. I didn't have to take the test. This moment was better than porn! (Especially that "Reality Porn." I'm NEVER looking at that shit again. UGH!) I think I'll celebrate it when I get home by spanking the monkey while thinking about L... oh shit, can't say it. I may have just jinxed myself for the Reading test, but this is still the best moment of my life!

Wednesday- To make a long story short, yes, I did have to take the Reaking test. And, yes, I Christmas Tree-d it. I am at the bus stop now and I almost thought I saw Warren Sapp, but quickly realized that it was a morbidly obese girl with his jersey. Speaking of jerseys, I was thinking of wearing some of my Buccaneers jerseys with some South Pole Jeans so I'd look like a pimp, but had visions of walking into school and people calling me a retarded Jewish Eminem. I hate Eminem. I hate rap period. Rock and roll baby! I'm a Hendrix man till the day I die (GOD DAMN! that really sounded gay).

Thursday- I've finally got rid of my lip herpes and I'm hating it. I loved going up to pretty, ditzy girls and kissing them. They actually thought that they had herpes and that they were going to die! HAHAHAHAHA

I'm in my first period class and I'm looking at a hot piece of tail, I mean, beautiful woman. I'm thinking about how much I'd have to pay her for her to let me stick my big bomb-bomb in her bum-bum. I need her because I haven't got laid since my last family reunion. She's kind of a whore, so she shouldn't be too hard to get.