I hope everyone enjoyed that

Here is a much more accurate picture of Steelers fans. You may recognize this scene, because this is what your stadium looks like after the Steelers come in and beat your team. During the last ten minutes, your fans are out in the parking lot crying while ours are inside pissing all over your seats and watching our team win. Ok, enough of the homerism.

Well maybe not. But the Steelers just fucking killed the Patriots. That's something we can all be thankful for! Seeing the Pats lose is the great uniter. You know what's even better? When some douche player you hate gets jacked up. And you know who I hate? Little white possession receivers. These guys are instantly fan favorites because of their whiteness. It's like reverse affirmative action. All the closet racist fans really feel like a white receiver is just like them, except said player is actually, you know, fit. That's why I love when something bad happens to these guys, because I imagine all their douche fans feeling their injury vicariously. Which is why this hit by Ryan Clark on Wes Welker got me totally JACKED UP!!!!



Holy shit! did you see that? Welker basically just got hit by a car on national TV. When I saw this hit I immediatly downed a can of Joose and punched a hole in the drywall. Now he did get flagged and he'll definitely get fined, but who gives a fuck. I have a theory that the Steelers' fines are being used to fund the federal bailout. And to anyone bleating about how much of a "thug" clark is, you can stick a clothes hanger up your pee hole. Ever watch old school football highlights? People like Jack Lambert and Dick Butkus did worse shit like this after the whistle, on every play. When they did it, they were just bein' tough, good ole' 'merican boys. Bring that fucking attitude back. This is football, if they can't make hits like that, what the fuck is the point in wearing pads. Man the hell up NFL. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to watch that hit while having sex with my Ben Roethlisberger Fathead.

I Play Redskins GM/Owner for a Day

The Date: June 4th, 2009


The Place: My Sweet Owner Suite

The Reason: Offseason Moves (and so I, Mr. Kennedy, don't drink myself into a supremely early grave).

Hi, I'm Mr. Kennedy. Owner/GM of the Washington Redskins. I have murdered Dan Snyder and Vinny Cerrato because they are a bunch of dickbags.
I am going to turn my team, currently underachieving morons, into a legit contender. How will I do that? It's simple you plebian.

I dump Shawn Springs and his "8 Million dollars a year for 8 games played" contract. He wanted to leave 2 years ago, yet, inextricably, Danny Snyder re-signed him. Not me. Fuck that fruit. Gone. Cut. BYE.

Next, I ABANDON the Jason Campbell project. He needs to go. I have had enough of his 7 yard passes on 3rd and 9. I need a fucking winner. And Jason Campbell is not a winner. Even that fucking doofus, Eli Manning, has won shit in his life. And he came from Ole Miss. Manufacturer of RETARDS.

What now? Simple. I trade Campbell and a 2nd rounder in 2010 for Colt McCoy, Chase Daniels, or that asshole from Texas Tech. QB situation resolved.

Next, I buy Jason Taylor out of his contract. What a waste! Holy shit. While I'm at it, I cut Thrash, buy Randle El out, and trade Carlos Rogers for draft picks (I'll take a 3rd in 2009 and a 2nd in 2010).

"Wow Mr. Kennedy, that's harsh. You done yet?"

NOPE. Zorn. You. Are. Fired.

And take your shitty staff with you. Take George Blache. Take Sherman Smith. Go float, you dickbangers.

Who do I hire?

Me. I hire myself. Because I know how a football game works. I will hire some high school coach to coach my offense. And I'll hire Bronco Nagurski (is he dead?) to coach my Defense. I will just tell my players what pieces of shit they are when they lose. That will work.

Back to reality. We need a D-Lineman. I trade away all of the draft picks I acquired in my various trades... and I throw in Randle El.... and I get ALBERT HAYNESWORTH. That guy is a criminal in a football player's body. And Gibbs don't want that. Guess what? Gibbs is driving cars around an oval. FUCK GIBBS. Gibbs, I wish you were dead. We need players. And, outside of Portis, Cooley, and Santana, the "REDSKINS-type" players are fucking dog shit. I need some BALLERS in here. Not fruity tooty dancers like Jason Taylor.

Oh. Laron Landry. Geezus, you're good....... NOT. You are the most overrated safety in football. And I joke you not. I'll trade u too. Give me a 7th Rounder for you. You are non existent.

Deangelo Hall. You stay. I give you a 2 year deal for 5 million a year. You take over as the #1 CB. New CB lineup: Deangelo, some 5th rounder, and Smoot. Clearing house.

In summary. Fuck my team. The team that Snyder assembled SUCKS. No heart (outside of Portis), and no intelligence. Better start playing, you fucking fools... because EVERYONE's job is on the line.

Fuck the Redskins (until next week).

Can I take that last post back?

I'm sure I can... by deleting the post. But I want people to see what a MORON I am for thinking the Skins have a chance. Fuck me and my FOOL'S hope.

NFL Sunday Preview!

Well you dickeaters, it's time for my totally arbitrary and in-no-way regimented NFL Sunday Preview that doesn't preview any other game other than the one in which MY Redskins will be participating.

Booyakasha you C-3PO fruitcakes... this is what being a straight male is all about. Hail to the Redskins and the foreskins that cover their johnsons.

After watching MY Redskins stumble and bumble their way to a crappy 20-17 win against the Division 1-AA Seattle Seahawks (which followed a 2 game losing streak, which followed 3 other weeks of shitty football), I was certain that the score of this game would be something like 57-27 Giants.

But, several factors have led me to come to a vastly different conclusion regarding tomorrow's gridiron clash of the Guytons.

1) I'm not a fan like Randy Quaid from Major League II (as seen in the middle of this clip, in which Randy desires to fight the entire Cleveland Indians squad).



2) Plaxico Burress is, and always will be, a fucking idiot. He was probably out with a Hamstring injury before his nightclub incident on Friday, yet the fact that he shot himself in his leg is just the icing on the cake. Hasn't he learned anything from gunshot wounds to the leg? Which leads me to...

3) Sean Taylor. I don't buy into that shit about him being a 12th man or anything. If you don't think ST has better things to do (like riding speedboats and laying bonecrushing hits on pussy Wide Receivers in heaven) other than helping his former teammates win a football game, then you are delusional to the Nth degree.

But it's about 1 year since his death, and they're putting his # in the Ring of Fame. One week after ST died last year, the Skins choked on a big fat Ron Jeremy dick and the entire city of DC was ashamed. If you don't think this squad is looking for redemption, then you're wrong. They're bringing it.

4) Giants basically have a first round bye WRAPPED. They're going to be, at worse, a 3 seed. And realistically, they're only going to need 11 wins to clinch a 2 seed. Let's hope they show up thinking they're playing the Ravens... if they do, the Skins might win by 30.

I'll be boozing all day tomorrow, as I'm taking Monday off. Hail to the Redskins and kill yourselves if you say otherwise.

-Homer.

More Sodoku

"Now what's worse? We talked about this at the party... A SCRAPbooking party, Oscar? or a Sodoku party?"

"Uhhh..."

Yea. Exactly you pussybots. There is a DEBATE between what is worse between Sodoku and SCRAP BOOKING!!!!!

Wow.

Sodoku

And here we go. BUKKAKE!!!!!

Just got another doosh move:



Sodoku.

From my radio idols, Big O and Dukes:

"That game? What is the deal with Soddoku? Isn't like Cherize Theron a professional Sodoku player? Nonononono. Dudes didn't miss it. There's a Sodoku movement with broads, ok?


....There are no dudes playing Sodoku. And if there are.... we don't want to hang out with them.

(Co- host): "How does it work?"

... that's like asking "how does nailing a dude work??"

.............


Later question:

"What's gayer?

Sodoku?

Or nailing a dude?



...."Yea I agree. Soduku."


Phone caller answering if it's gay to do a Sodokuajau:

What if you're doing a Sodoku while doing a guy????

Guess it's all relative at that point.


---------------

And here it goes, for now.

Sodoku... manly, right?? Nope. Cameron Diaz is a pro. So, if you're a pro, you can go float.

Oh, Fuck you Pittsburgh!

In case our billions of fans are wondering what STEAMED HAMS looks like... well there you go. Spoiler alert.

Surprise. Like the rest of Pittsburgh fans, he's a fat mother-fucking zebra slobbing bastard.

So, STEAMED HAMS. Here I am, challenging you to something special. You designed the Mike Schiavo pic. Fine. You bought yourself a 2 week period. Time to get offensive. Oh, is that a challenge from you? Well here it goes.... enjoy, HAMS!

DIE 9 TRILLION DEATHS

Here's a message to the GEEDS of the world.

It's called Thanksgiving.

Acceptable: Skanksgiving, FRANKSGIVING, FATSGIVING, Crapsgiving, BoozeGiving.

NOT ACCEPTABLE:

TURKEY DAY.

Losers.

Marky's Mom wishes everyone a "Happy Turkey Day!!!!!"

Geezus. Fuck you. It is not Turkey Day. That's what dooshes call Thanksgiving.

We give thanks for beer.

We give thanks for money.

For football.

For Schiavo.

For the Globetrotters.

For 5 fucking days off!!!!!!!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

That's what we give thanks for.

It is NOT Turkey Day, you fucking geed dooshes.

God you make me sick.
----------------------

Period.

Now. As our website has gotten over a million hits, I feel it necessary to plug something.

Your mom. Which I've done 3 times a week for the past 5 years.

Go-to Bums

As I strolled by another POOR on the streets today, I wondered why I didn't reach into my pocket to help his sorry ass out. After all, what's 1 dime to a HIGH ROLLIN' CELEBRITY such as myself?? It's less than a drop in the bucket. It's an H2O molecule.

Does this make me a bad person? Nay. It does not. There are millions of other factors that make me a bad person. This is not one of them. I realized the real reason I didn't donate to this sad sack of nothing:

He wasn't my "Go-to Bum".

You see, much as an old pair of sweat pants, a sick pair of SpongeBob socks, or a sweet Chicago Bulls Starter Jacket can serve as a source of comfort in times of crisis, panic, or stress, seeing a "Go-to Bum" seems to make all of the wrongs in the world right.

My Go-To Bum, hereto after "GTB", happens to be a yelling maniac type fellow. Every time I see him, he's got bags of stuff in both arms. Could be food, could be money, could be body parts. Bottom line, it doesn't matter. I'm scared of him. I see him, ALL THE TIME, yelling at some poor young lady who has neglected to donate to his McDonald's fund. I don't want to end up like that, so every other week, usually on a Tuesday, I will throw 2 nickels and a penny into his little styrofoam cup, to which he always utters a very congenial word of thanks.

Mission Accomplished, and he doesn't even know that I also included a little chunk of lint. I figure, I do this enough times, I can trick God into thinking I'm a good Samaritan. I mean, it's not like God has X-Ray eyes. He's not fucking Superman. Oh wait, Superman had laser beam eyes. Doesn't matter.

The bottom line is, every time I donate 11 crusty cents, not only am I appeasing my GTB, but I am also knocking a few weeks off of my sentence in purgatory. And that's, as that dumb chick from Mean Girls would say, "so fetch".



Probably wouldn't donate to this crazy asshole. My GTB is far more respectable.

Pissed-Off Rant Wednesday

Well, I know that I've been straying in a different direction lately, as the daily dose of angry rants has quietly subsided. This is due to the fact that I haven't had a whole hell of a lot to rant about. Some would argue that this is healthy for my well-being. I contend that it is not. You see, I feel like a shell of myself when I'm not venting, spreading my frustration to the numerous masses. Swearing, yelling, and flipping the world off are all great ways for me to exude my bitterness. The fact that I've been, for the most part, content with how things are going... well that just tells me something has been amiss.

But all that has changed this week. It all changed on Sunday Night. And I was so angry because of events from Sunday Night that I HAD to let my rage subside for 2 days, lest this site get banned for being tooooo explicit. And that's saying something, BRO.

You see, I made the UNFORGIVABLE mistake of going to the Redskins-Cowboys shitfest on SNF. What could be better than seeing my favorite team take on its most hated rival on a National stage? How about Stomach Cancer? Yes. Stomach Cancer would have been better.

And another thing that would have been better: being tortured by one of Jigsaw's maniacal contraptions from the Saw series. This rant will be in a series of personal letters to Redskins personnel, as well as a few surprises. Commence rant NOW:

Dear Antwaan Randle El,

You might as well be a Somalian pirate, because you are thieving from the Redskins like few players have ever done. You are the WORST punt returner in the NFL. But that's old ass news. You've never been a great receiver, but you'd at least give us some fucking effort. Not anymore, ass. Get the fuck off the field you stupid midget. I'd rather have a bag of fucking sand rolling around out there.

Dear Shawn Springs,

Seriously dude, die. Whereas Randle El is lazy and incompetent, you are the biggest PUSSY in the NFL, and that's far far worse. You have missed the past 5 games with a strained calf. Cmon you bitch. Listen, a torn calf, whatever. I can accept that. A pulled hammy, ok. Fine. A strained calf is a 1, maybe 2 week injury. If you just rest that shit, you should recover. I've strained calves numerous times. Times when I've been involved in varsity athletics. But you're a fucking athlete. And YOU are getting paid to play the fucking game. Grab your balls and get on the field.

At this point, I'd like to move on to ripping non-players. But before I do, I'd like to offer a humongous "fuck off" to the following players: Jason "The Dancing Queen" Taylor, The Entire Redskins Offensive Line, and the Redskins Rookie Wide Receivers, who exude zero passion whatsoever.

Now that that's out of the way, it's on to the true focus of my ire. The following two parties make my blood absolutely BOIL over with the fury of a millllllion Bunson-burner flames.

Dear Dan Snyder,

You effing h3eb. Your greedy ass has sapped nearly all of my passion for that franchise. I'll leave aside the fact that you've employed a totally incompetent derelect to run your team (Vinny Cerrato). I'll leave aside the fact that you refuse to draft O-linemen or D-linemen. Instead, I will focus on that HIGHWAY ROBBERY of a fucking live experience that you run. The field, though it wasn't built by you, has been made into what I'm sure is the WORST NFL EXPERIENCE EVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR>:(>:(>:(. ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH.

The stadium seats 90 thousand people. Sweet right? Gets loud, right? Yea, it does get loud, but only when all 90 thousand people start screaming their colons off 25 seconds before each play commences. And then, it gets quiet in literally .25 seconds. That's why NOBODY has a 90 thousand person outdoor stadium! You want 90 thousand people in your rip off of a playing field? THROW A FUCKING ROOF ON IT!

Whatever, but if there's 90 thousand people coming to all of your sold-out games, then there must be plenty of reasonable parking near the stadium, right?

FUCK NOOO!!! Nononononononono. I literally just paid $40 to park 3 MILES AWAY FROM THE STADIUM... in a CORPORATE BUILDING'S PARKING LOT.... not even a FEDEX parking lot. But there's gotta be a convenient shuttle service to and from the stadium, yea?

HAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA now that's funny. The shuttle took 45 minutes to get to the stadium! And the line to get on the shuttle was about 8 zillion people long. SO I WALKED. Fuck you, I chose to walk 3 miles.

And when I asked stadium personnel where my road was, a simple fact that they SHOULD know, were they helpful? What do you think, Dan Snyderbergensteinenheim? Typical response, "Sorry man, I just work here."

GAHHHHHHHHHH!

So it took me 3 hours to get from the stadium to my apartment. A 45 minute drive MAX was given 2+ hours more body just because of the CRIMINALITY that is occurring at every FedEx home game.

In other news, if any of our billions of fans want tickets to the remaining FedEx games, just comment below. I'll be in touch.

And finally,

Dear Redskins "FANS",

You make me sick. 2 Weeks ago, you allowed stupid Steelers fans like Steamed Hams to overrun crappy FedEx (well on second thought, maybe the joke was on them... NAH, you're all too stupid to think that far ahead, you dunderheaded morons).

On Monday, you were pretty stellar for 3 quarters. AND THEN, the 4th Quarter...

which is the time to rest, right? Rest up your voice for work on Monday?

YES!!!!

JUST KIDDIN'! But I bet you FELL for it, SHITHEADS! Because not only did you go pretty much silent as the Cowboys jammed the ball down the team's throats, but you LEFT IN DROVES with 4+ minutes to play... with the team down by only 4 POINTS!!!!!!!!!

DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Listen, I can go on for 10 minutes as to why this is unfuckingacceptable, but somehow I doubt you fair-weather FAIRIES would learn anything. Just know that you are an abomination and should be ashamed of yourselves.

I'm going to vomit on my desk (and no, I didn't drink 28 beers last night).

Mr. Kennedy

And no, you all don't even get a funny photo today. You haven't earned that shit.

GS Pollitikul Korner: The Official GS Presidential Endorsement!!!

Ladies and Gentlemen. The 2008 Presidential Election has redefined history, redefined our sense of country, and forced a reassessment of the tenets of our fine country. Congratulations to both Senator McCain and Senator Obama. They both ran historic campaigns that did more for women and black Americans than perhaps any political endeavor in our storied history.

Now, the millions of you out there reading this blog (994,000+, actually) are left assuming that this week-late Political Endorsement will go for either Barack or for John. Well, two things. 1) The election is not over, not by a Santonio Holmes’s penis-sized long shot. There are hundreds of millions of absentee ballots waiting to be counted. In addition, we at GS have unearthed startling voting discrepancies throughout the country. We feel that exposing these discrepancies, in addition to counting those absentee ballots, will produce a conclusion far different from the one reached by the mindless simpletons that make up the American media. And 2) Our endorsement will SHOCK you.



(Only watch the first 2 minutes or so, the rest is worthless).





Now, all of you wrestling nerds out there can put your 4 inch boners away. We’re not endorsing the fucking Shockmaster. This is serious business. And the country can’t be lead by that fat slob.

No, folks. We are endorsing someone who has the fortitude and the courage to do what this country needs: the right thing!

We are endorsing a MAN’s MAN. A man whose wife will SHUT UP and listen when he asks her to.

We are endorsing a man with the strength to make the TOUGH decisions, even knowing the consequences of his actions.

A MAN who will sacrifice whatever it takes. A man who can face the criticism. A man who doesn’t FUCK around!

A MAN who won’t shy away from tearing the FEEDING TUBE out of the braindead body of America’s SLUMS.

Ladies and Gentlemen. We here at GS are proud to announce our OFFICIAL ENDORSEMENT in the 2008 Presidential Election:



Michael Schiavo!!!



Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen. While McCain and Obama helped advanced women’s and minorities’ interests, we are left to ponder, “WHO WILL STAND UP FOR THE MIDDLE AGED WHITE MALE FROM THE SUBURBS WHO IS FED UP WITH HIS WIFE AND SHITTY JOB?!?!”

The answer is Michael Schiavo. If you doubt the credentials of Michael, or if you doubt his ability to be President, I ask you to ponder one thing:

“He pulled the plug on his wife because he didn’t feel like dealing with the strain anymore, and yet, here she is supporting him as he makes his future State of the Union address. If she can support him, can’t we all support him?”

Yes we can.

It's Weekly Character Wednesday!!!!!

Hey Dickheads,

As I stood naked in my shower this AM (had to clarify that I wasn't wearing a business suit), I pondered several important issues. There was one issue in my life that stood head and shoulders above the other issues.

Was it the plummeting economy? Nay, not on this gloriously annoying day.

Was I pondering ways to be effective at work today? No, definitely not. Never, in fact.

Was I thinking of Barack Obama's TENTATIVE election as President of the USA? No... especially since he didn't actually win (GS Endorsement of the real winner soon-to-follow).

Was I counting the # of times I would be seeing Madagascar 2: Back to Africa?? Well, yes. (2 times in theatres, twice on DVD, and 6 times when it comes to On Demand)

However, Madagascar was basically an afterthought as I dreamt up our latest and greatest character. He will surely be a solid addition to our already impeccable stable of heroes. So, Hochuli the Giant and Jack Frost, step aside. Make room for our shiny new toy:





Stromboli Thurmond!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Stromboli Thurmond:

Greetings, Blog universe. I am Stromboli Thurmond. I am a clever invention, as my creator combined my actual name, "Strom", with a tasty italian treat, "Boli". You can read all about my crappier version here. As you will no doubt learn, 50% of me is racist and bigoted. Not comical at all. However, as you will see here, my other 50% is delicious. The combination is comical, as in future episodes of the Stromboli saga, I will have an inward battle between my intolerance of minorities and my desire to provide culinary delights.

So for now, I will leave you with this: the USA should resegregate schools while providing delicious Italian cuisine to all (including the poors).

Have a crotchedy day.

Steamed Hams is STEAMING mad

Well, what a rollercoaster week-and-a-half it has been. Last Monday Mr. Kennedy and I attended the 'Skins-Steelers game, which will go down as an epic experience. Like a bitch I was feeling ill for the first hour or so of our tailgate, and I thought I was going to ruin the entire weekend. But, incredibly, I started feeling well! This was a clutch move by my body, because it allowed me to get drunk. As(s) soon as we got into the stadium, every other word out of our mouths was either fuck or a derivative of it. We insulted everyone in our vicinity, and generally made it a very family-unfriendly experience. By the end of the first quarter, any family dumb enough to bring their children to a football game were gone. 

At halftime, Mr. Kennedy pulled one of the most epic moves in the history of alcohol and left the stadium. Not becuase he was disgusted by the Skins (which he probably was) but because he thought the game was over. This will definitely be one of the most legendary events of his and my life.

Without the support of their biggest fan, the Skins were hopeless in the second half. More and more of their fans joined Mr. Kennedy in the parking lot, leaving FedEx field a sea of black and gold. The highlight would have to be when I converted the retarded kid a couple rows back into a terrible towel-waving Steely McBeam acolyte.

On the drive home the next day, I successfuly convinced my boss that I was sick, assuring that I had Tuesday off. That night we put in a president who can dunk and I was extremely content.

Then we got to this weekend.

First, my beloved Nittany Lions shit the bed and lost to Iowa, ruining all national title hopes and just generally embarrassing the state of Pennsylvania. I was crushed, but Sunday provided an opportunity for me to bounce back, as the Steelers were 6-2 and running shit. The Colts have looked like garbage and a good thrashing of Peyton and murderin' Marvin Harrison would lift my spirits. Instead, the legally retarded Ben Roethlisberger did his best Kordell Stewart impression and threw awful interceptions at the worst possible times. It was just like the Giants game, thrown away in the last quarter after dominating the previous three. 

I'm not going to abandon either team yet, as PSU should still win the Big Ten and go to the Rose Bowl, and the Steelers proved in 05/06 that they only need to make the playoffs to make a run at the Super Bowl. But I'm still mad pissed off, and I'm not ready to resort to rooting for the Penguins or Celtics this early in the season. At least our endorsed presidential candidate (stay tuned) still has a chance, as he will likely carry all of the yet-to-be counted military votes!

"Pack it Up, Pack it In.....

.....Try to battle Roy Jones Jr, it's a guaranteed WIN!"



Dear Roy Jones Jr.,

And when I say Junior, I mean that in the most disrespectful manner possible. On Saturday night, I made the mistake of buying into your stupid hype and purchasing the 50 dollar pay-per-view with the hopes that you had enough gas in your old ass tank to deliver a patriotic ass beating of British Joe Calzaghe.

It started off promisingly. You knocked him down with a lucky hook in the first round. But apparently you forgot that Broadway Joe Calzaghe dominated the round outside of that ridiculous punch. So what do you do? Do you focus your attention on knocking him out, putting one of the top 3 fighters in the world down for the count??

Fuck no. You started lowering your hands, refusing to throw punches, smirking at the crowd as Calzaghe fucked your liver up, and looked like a pile of shit for the next three rounds. By that point, it was over.

And I came to a realization, as I witnessed your old ass continue to get pummeled in the latter rounds, Calzaghe sticking his face in between your gloves, mocking you for the loser of a person you are. I realized that you're just a rapper who was gifted with Athletic ability. You are one big steaming pile of fluff. You were good for a few years, when you were beating up on white jobbers and backstreet bums. But then, you start fighting real fighters, and you get absolutely dicked. You lost 11 out of 12 rounds HANDILY. It would have been 12 without that lucky punch.

NOBODY LOSES A FIGHT 11 ROUNDS to 1. NOBODY LOSES A FIGHT 12 to 0. Except for you, you piece of dogshit.

I want my 50 dollars back. I want it hand delivered by you. Then, I want a signed contract that you will never attempt to rob me again.

Fuck you.

-Mr. Kennedy.

Who's the Gayest LJ of them All?

Let's be honest here. I don't have an idea for this post. I just thought of the Hornets' LJ and his stupid Grandma-ma outfit from the 90s and then, when finding a photo of Chiefs RB/Scumbag LJ, came across a photo of a teammate giving him the rare "Leaning Tower of Penis". Then, instead of posting comparative photos of the two, I used it as the perfect opportunity to use some crude MS Paint skills (Hams is the resident Photoshopper, I'm the bootlegged version-- sort of like how Al Sharpton is the bootlegged version of Jesse Jackson).

Clearly Grandma-ma is shocked and appalled at fellow LJ's receiving of a public BJ. A ZJ, now that might be a different story. But LJ doesn't know what a ZJ is, so he can't afford it. Now, if only we can get DJ Tanner up in this bitch to offer up a Lou Bega RJ (rimjob).

How's that for some nasty name drops??

Frat Frat Frat Frat

"Well I won, folks. And I'm enjoying a cold bottle of High Life, because I earned it. However, here's a shocker! I never actually endorsed myself. I endorsed Geeds Stink's favorite candidate, who will be revealed later today. Stay tuned for that, it's a real ballbouncer!"

NFL Ga(y)meday Preview

Hey dummies. I just reread Hams's last post, and I realized the kind of pressure he applied to me making a preview post. I did wake up before noon (thank you, Gaylight Gayvings), so therefore I am contractually obligated to offer up an inane and completely irrelevant Gameday preview. So, as Hams rides down from Canada in his Horse-drawn wagon, I offer up my LOCKS of the we(a)k. I'm sweet.

#1) The Buggles had the first video ever played on MTV. The Bangles are bitter that they're not The Buggles (common mistake). And the Bengals field a Divison 1-AA squad. Here's the thing. Only one of these behemoths will come out with a victory today. Yes idiots, I'm picking The Beatles to resurrect John Lennon, who will carry his squad to victory over the Jack(off)sonville Jaguars.



#2) Brad "Huge" Johnson is old as dirt. But he's not Jeff "Boy" George. Therefore, I see a (Hams coined) "cum"petitive matchup occurring between the Cowboy-touchers of Dallas and the Jew York Giants. I predict a 31-28 win for the G-spot Men, but don't be surprised if the Cowboys make like Andy Dick and swing it the other way.


-Karma "Cum"eleon

#3) Tits almost ga(y)metime, so this is the final predic(k)tion. I will go out on a severed limb and predict another upset. And the only reason I'm doing this is because there's an 80s theme to this post, and "A Flock of Seagulls" was the first 80s band I thought of when considering this info-less fore(skin)cast. The Seagulls of Philadelphia take on the Seacocks of Seattle today. I like the idiotic jabronis from "Depressing, USA" to take advantage of Philadelphia's "cock"iness surrounding the World Series of "Who Gives a Shit". Look for the boneheads from Washington state to win an ugly affair, 17-13. That, or 170-130.



See you later today for the official GS endorsement of some culturally irrelevant and utterly obscure human being for President of the United State (because we bring the hard hitting journalism around here).

Super Bowl week preview # something

Alright everyone, we all know that the Super Bowl is just days away. How many days, I'm not sure, because I'm too lazy to count, and I think daylight savings screws things up somehow. But rest ASSured Monday Night Football will blow you away with more force than a Tera Patrick squirt. Now tomorrow I will embark on a journey to Baltimore where Kennedy and I will engage in activities such as drunken scummy movie watching, drunken lazy duel-blogging, drunken videogaming, drunken chastising of under-performing fantasy players, drunken sexual harASSment and/or misogyny, drunken drunkenness and finally drunken attendance of the Super Bowl. Now, for the record, let's check the electoral map to see where the two team's stand in the eyes of our sporting nation
Wow! That is close. It looks like the Redskins are carrying a lot of states, but mostly those known for encouraging incest and necrophelia, and any combination of the two, while the Steelers are favored in states where you are most likely to have an education and make a lots ca$h. But it will undoubtedly come down to the wire, as it looks like the swing states are split pretty evenly, with the Steelers having the edge in Ohio, New Mexico and Nevada, and the Skins leading in Missouri, Virginia and Florida. It is our job to make sure that you are educated thoroughly on the two candidates, and hopefully our mudslinging has provided you with adequate information on our teams' policies and stances towards such issues as fat chicks and child rape. Now, go make an informed decision. USA! USA!

Also, I just decided that this weekend Mr. Kennedy and I will be co-authoring a post where we issue our endorsement for President of the United States. Now, you may be thinking that we are just going to choose from the two mainstream candidates, but you are wrong. We here at GS believe in opportunity for all, so without even consulting with the editor, I'm going to say that we will be endorsing a WRITE-IN candidate for Tuesday's election. So sit closely by your "cum"puter tomorrow and hit refresh every five seconds until a new post pops up. I'm sure if Mr. K is up and coherent before 1 0'clock he will give you an NFL preview or something to keep you entertained. If not, just watch this badass WWF Attitude era matchup between X-Pac/Kane and the Brood.

VICTORY!

Congrats to Steamed Hams and the PSU Nittany Lions. Texas Tech just took care of the #1 squad in the nation... if this were a sensible world, PSU would be #2 in the BCS tomorrow. Let us all hope that this is the last bit of joy that Hams enjoys for the next 3 days. See below for a bunch of disgusting female PSU fans. Joe Pa had a vasectomy, so even tho he blew a fat PSU nut inside of these slobettes, they didn't get pregnant.



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-That's a Joe Pa sperm cell.

Manlantic City

Hey bitchez. I made a little jaunt up to Atlantic City last night and realized that there are very few things as manly or as sweet as absolutely running shit in a Casino. Let me break it down for you: free drinks, hot chicks (depending on the casino), money being thrown around like Pacman Jones was scoping some vajayjay at Scores, and did I mention free booze?? I did? Good. Free booze is key.

Here's how my night went. My boys and I set up shop at a Craps table at Bally's (where my friend had scored a free room comp for being a frequenter of the Casino-- comps are clutch). Some fucking derelict Hispanic pro gambler (or at least thought he was a pro) threw off our shwag and set himself up in between our group, fucking up all of the karma. Within about 60 minutes, we were all down (I had lost 150 at this point). Instead of being stupid idiots and staying at the crappy table filled with senior citizens and dooshbags wearing suit jackets over their t-shirts, we made a truly exXxecutive decision to head to the Borgata.

Here's what the scene at Borgata is like (keep in mind that Bally's is filled with old people, pathetic life gamblers, and many many poor people trying to hit it big):

Borgota is like the Colt Brennan of Casinos. But not current Colt Brennan, a 3rd string QB. I mean Colt Brennan when he was slinging jizz rockets all over the field at Hawaii. Borgata is young, brash, cocky, and straight dickin'.

At Borgata, they're blasting BEATS. Techno, Rap, high energy shit. Bally's has Ace of Base and Matchbox 20. Ugh. When I'm slanging 50s around, I want to feel my balls vibrating and my brain tingling. I don't want to feel like I'm in Lakewood Hills' fucking Retirement Community.

At Borgata, the cocktail waitresses are fantastic. It was Halloween, so you know the COCKtail waitresses were dressed as total Slores. It was great. Ours was some Jersey trash dressed as Chase Slutley (the nickname I have her for wearing a sexxxy Phillies costume). She looked good, chewed gum obnoxiously, and had my testosterone pumping (you know, because the virility of my johnson was demanding it). At Bally's, the waitresses are crunchy middle-aged skanks who look like they've been aged in a leather shop for the past 15 years.

At Bally's, the drink service was poor at best, and fucking disgraceful at worst. Ask for a whiskey and coke, and they might give you a Diet Pepsi and Captain Morgan. Honestly, fuck that shit. I want the real thing. Drinks also took 25 minutes to get, preventing me from working on my buzz (I might have graduated college, but my tolerance is still way higher than it should be). Instead of worrying about packing my jockstrap with C Notes, I was worrying about receiving a Zima instead of my Gin and Tonic order. Shit.

Anyways, we get to Borgata, and things just get rocking. I've shunned the mixed drinks, and just start sucking down Whiskey on the Rocks. You would think a steady diet of a straight whiskey drink every 15 minutes for 8 hours would get me really fucked up. But you're wrong. Wrong like making a Bernie Mac death joke. They pump straight oxygen into these places so that you'll remain energized. Combine that with the absolute RUSH you get from throwing humongous stacks of bonedawgs on the felt (gambling surface), and your mind stays much sharper than it normally would.

The most big tyme game to play in a casino is 100% Craps. It's not that close.



Look, as a rule, I hate most people. In general, I want to see others fail. But in a Casino, it is awful karma to wish bad on others. That's why a game like Craps (a game that doles out glory or dismay to an entire table) is perfect for forming a great camaraderie. When others are winning, you're likely winning. When one person gets on a roll, everyone gets on a roll. There are very few things better than seeing the casino send down their "chiller" to cool off a hot table. That means they're getting worried. Wah, casinos. That industry, filled with crooks, makes more than the movie, music, and porn industries COMBINED each year. It's a good thing to take money off these dickbags.

But I digress, which is something I am apt to do with high frequency. This, as it were, is allowable whenever I am running shit, as I have been doing for the past 3 months. Back to the point. In a casino, when you're rocking your liver with straight whiskey, slapping high 5s with the old dude who thinks he's Johnny Cash, and collecting those 25 dollar chips like they were Micro Macines, time FLIES because life is GREAT. This is what happened to me last night.

We went on a humongous run because some dude (whom, I believe, had never played Craps before) went on a monumental roll. He went about 45 minutes without losing any money. And I probably ended his roll up 450 dollars, at least. His fat girlfriend went on a shorter, but just as profitable roll, right after him. I won about 200 right there.

When it was time to cash out, the table manager doled out two 500 dollar chips, plus some 25 dollar chips. I had made about a grand. It was 6:30 in the morning.

Let me emphasize something. At 6:30 in the morning, while the dregs of society have whittled away their last crunchy 5 dollar bill in the casino, while the prostitutes are headed home to their shitty life and vapid-headed child (and the smell of semen permeating their aura), there is a great sense of self satisfaction when you've got a fat stack of greenbacks in your pocket. My shit-eating grin was in full force as me and my other war buddy dined in the casino's BREAKFAST bistro (the sliders were immaculate, if you care to know (which you don't)).

I'm sure I'll touch upon this subject again (like Redskins fans like touching children), because I have a daytime nocturnal emission every time I think of winning a substantial amount of dinero, but for now, rest assured...


Having this happen to you will keep beer in your fridge, condoms in your pocket, and porn on your computer, while this:


is just fodder for having snarky assholes like me make fun of you. Loser.

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